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O3O/O47

에이티즈 ── ATEEZ. OOO/OOO

OO1.

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OO1.

엔하이픈 ── ENHYPEN. OO3/OO3

OO1. OT7 x Gender Neutral Reader SFW STATUS: posted!

OO2. OT7 x Gender Neutral Reader SFW STATUS: posted!

OO3. OT7 x Gender Neutral Reader SFW STATUS: posted!

OO4.

(여자)아이들 ── (G)I-DLE. OOO/OOO

OO1.

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OO2.

뉴진스 ── NEWJEANS. OO2/OO6

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피원하모니 ── P1HARMONY. OO1/OO1

OO1. Jongseob x Trans Boy Reader SFW STATUS: posted!

OO2.

스트레이 키즈 ── STRAY KIDS. O16/O23

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엑스디너리 히어로즈 ── XDINARY HEROES. OO8/O13

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O14.

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↳ 𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐚𝐥’𝐬 𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

→ 𝐁𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐁𝐅 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐱 𝐁𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐆𝐅 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐓𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐦𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞, 𝐲/𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝, 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝’𝐬 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝. 𝐀𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐮𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐮𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐢𝐥, 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐲𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝.

→ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟏,𝟑𝟔𝟒

→ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞 𝐀𝐔, 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐚, 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐍𝐨𝐧 𝐈𝐝𝐨𝐥 𝐀𝐔

→ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐭, 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐝𝐨𝐠𝐠𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞, 𝐦𝐢𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫, 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐦𝐚.

→ 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬: 𝐨𝐧 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠

→ 𝐁𝟐 𝐌.𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐏𝐀𝐃

“Is this ok?” he breaks the kiss, his voice low, thick with desire, his dark eyes darting between yours and your slightly swollen lips before biting his own.

The bathroom was a sharp contrast from the lively energy of the bar outside. The air was filled with a distinct red hue, casting ethereal glows on each of your faces, heightening the intensity of the moment. You were perched on the counter, your legs draped over the edge, encased between his body.

Your mind was caught in a whirlwind of emotions, every nerve in your body had a desperate longing for the man, yet your mind was screaming telling you, “No, this is wrong,” but you couldn’t stop, you didn’t want to. The tension between the two of you was palpable, making it impossible to think clearly. You felt trapped between your impulses and morality.

He leans in again, his breath warm and intoxicating against your skin, making you shiver. The proximity was maddening each second stretching the tension to its breaking point. You can feel the hunger in his gaze, this man wanted, no, needed you.

You nodded slowly but no less eagerly, silently agreeing to whatever the stranger had instored for you, A flicker of relief flashed in his eyes. His fingers gently brushing your cheek, the touch tender, almost as if he was searching for something,

Without breaking eye contact, he pressed his lips against yours again. This time. The kiss was far more intense, charged with energy that had been building since you first locked eyes, His lips moved against yours in feverish intensity, a desperate exploration of the desire that neither of you could no longer hold back.

Your hands roamed up to his raven locks, fingers gripping into his soft hair as you pulled him closer. His body pressing against yours, making the moment feel impossibly intimate, every touch sent little jolts of electricity through you.

The kiss deepened, his hands slid down to your waist, gripping you firmly, grounding you, but with a tenderness that contrasted with the kiss, His hips grinding into your clothes core, achingly slow

You couldn’t help but let out little whimpers into his mouth, making him smirk into the kiss. He breaks away once again, trailing kisses down to your neck. The room was filled with your pants and small moans. The mixed sensations of the wet sloppy kisses and the slow grinding against you was driving you insane. You couldn’t wait any longer.

You grip his black hair pulling his head up to eye level with you, “Just fuck me already” your voice came out slightly hoarse, “please”, something shifts inside of him, his slow movements now change to a sense of urgency,

He pulls off his black denim jacket revealing his big frame, followed by his white crew neck. fuck, you gulp once you catch the perfectly sculpted body the jacket was skillfully hiding, This man that you just met would be the death of you.

His gaze met your eyes, a cocky smirk plastered all over his face, “You gonna keep staring or get undressed?”, his voice just as cocky as that stupid smirk on his face but equally, if not more, playful.

You push his check back some, your excuse of a way to feel his chest, and leap off the counter turning towards the sink, you get a glimpse at yourself in the mirror. “What the fuck are you doing y/n,” you said to yourself. You already looked slightly disheveled and all you did was make-out.

The strange man grabs your waist, his lips trailing heated kisses along your neck. His eyes lock onto yours though the mirror, a smoldering gaze that pierces through the reflection. He presses you down, forcing your body to bend over the counter. He could easily overpower you, and you’d be a liar to say it wasn’t turning you on even more. The air was thick with tension as he maintains unwavering eye contact,

His eyes leave yours to lift your skirt, revealing the lace black thong adorning your skin. "Fuck," he breathes, his voice low and husky. He slides the delicate fabric down your legs, his fingers brushing against your clit, making you shudder. "No, none of that," you insist, your voice more desperate than intended. "Just fuck me." His eyes lock with yours in the mirror, a low chuckle escaping his lips as he notices you clench around nothing.

He unbuckles his belt, pulling down his loose jeans and boxers, letting his erection spring free, precum glistening at the tip. He gives himself a few slow pumps before gliding through your wet folds, barely grazing your entrance each time. Growing impatient with his teasing, you plead, "Please." Seeing your face in the mirror, he can't hold back any longer.

Finally, he sinks into you, both of you exhaling a shared breath of satisfaction. He pauses, giving you a moment to adjust, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort. He feels how tense your body gets.

“Relax mama,” He leans over your small frame, peppering a few kisses on your shoulder, “I’m not gonna hurt you. I promise”. You clench again.

You try to relax around his letting out a few gentle staggered breaths, He was thicker than you expected, you needed a little more time to get adjusted to him,

After some time he finally feels you relax around him. With a gentle tap on your hip, he silently asks for permission to continue. You respond with a fervent nod, your voice lost to the intensity of the moment.

“I’ll go slow.” he says reassuring you,

That's exactly what he did, his movements were slow, giving you all the time you need to adjust. Your head hung low, your plump lips slightly parted letting out the prettiest, sweetest moans he has ever heard. You were driving him nuts already,

You felt every single vein that decorated his dick, Your body was growing more and more used to him with each slow thrust he gave you.

You looked so cute and pouty in the mirror, but as cute as you were, he couldn’t take it anymore. His grip on your waist gets a tad bit rougher, grounding you before pulling out, just barely leaving his tip sunken inside of you, before roughly thrusting back into you.

If he didn’t have that grip on you, you would have for sure fell face forward into the mirror. You grip the sides of the sink tryna find a sense of stability over your own body.

He was fucking you hard, and deep.

The room was now filled with the slapping of your bodies meeting, along with the occasional ‘ngh’ and string of curse words that would leave both of your mouths.

“Fuck, you feel so good around me”, his voice is coming out breathless, you simply moan in response unable to form any sort of words, he was turning your brain to mush.

You make the mistake of catching his eyes again staring at you in the mirror, you couldn’t look away, the way his brows were pinched together his pink pierced lip caught in between his lip, The violet glow contouring his dark prominent features.

Neither of you can look away, something shifts in between you, neither of you know if it's the alcohol talking or the pure and raw lust shared between the two of you, His gaze softens for a quick second before he shakes his head putting all his focus back into making sure he gave you the best fuck of your life.

You drop your head, unable to hold it up any longer, loud moans turning into whimpers, he feels you clench around him, you were close.

He speeds up his movements, fucking into you at a harder pace.

You closed your eyes, giving all your focus to the pleasure in between your legs. He felt so good inside of you, too good that neither of you heard the constant ringing of your phone.

Your phone illuminated in the corner of the bathroom, “E ♥” the phone screen read, displaying a picture of you kissing your boyfriend…

𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 >>>

Nini’s Note: Taglist?🤔 FEED BACK IS APPRECIATED !!

@coralmusicblaze @alpha-mommy69 @lovkiss

when the camellia blooms | pjm

park jimin x kim! reader | 1 | 2

sypnosis: diagnosed with the hanahaki disease, you had only two options - accept a deathly fate, or never love again. 

genre: au, angst, fluff, humor, friends to lovers? maybe.

warnings: many talks of death and dying, namjoon is the sweetest brother omg, unrequited love, swearing, pining, longing, fictional added terms and effects of the hanahaki disease, really sad reader, really sad characters, and lots of angst.

word count: (read author's note)

reminder: this is a sequel. please read part one here; however, this also could serve as a stand-alone, but I would advise you read the first part as well for the full experience.

a/n: i was mauling for a long long long time over whether i should do three parts at most or just keep this one really lengthy, and since i was afraid of losing track if i chose to cut it in parts again, i just decided to make this one quite a bit long. sorry!

"let me try to love you back to life."

"Is that what you think?"

You remember the long pause before your response, a deafening silence amidst the growing tense and suffocating air that evening as you spoke.

You had known then that Jimin regretted what he said the moment he did, but it was too late. He’s already said it, and he’s hurt you.

Jimin looks at you with ache as you stare accordingly at the blank wall, noticing the way your eyes have begun to well up in tears as the familiar feeling of tightness succumbs your throat, light feathers of pink flowers forcefully being swallowed down, "Do you think that I don't remember? That I simply don't care? That I'm just on the fence playing peek-a-boo with death on my door?"

Focusing on you with a heart contrite, Jimin places his bottom lip in between his teeth, eyes meshed together amongst sorrow as he swallows in shame, feeling completely guilty at his preceding words.

"y/n I-"

You then laugh ironically, halting him to a stop.

"Forgive me, Jimin."

Your throat is furthermore burning by each passing second as you direct your gaze at the cause of your painful love, "Forgive me if I prefer to want to spend my last days in peace with the acceptance of my crushing fate. Forgive me for not wanting to die on my death bed sulking and cursing the universe and God and myself and whatever I can for this unfair hanafuckinghaki sickness. Forgive me-"

You uttered every word that night with a sense of despise, a sense of spite, each one a striking arrow shot directly at Jimin's heart.

"-if I choose to pretend to be happy and to be okay for my brother and for your sake." You spit out, last words purposely said with more effect.

Taking a few steps closer towards him, you point your finger accusingly against his chest as your tears willingly fall, lips slightly quivering as your anger all the more increases the moment you two lock eyes.

Your breath is caught at the back of your throat as you look up, finding yourself standing in the very front of Jimin's presence.

You swallow harshly, height difference being of no use as your red eyes focusedly trained on his same ones tower over him, both pairs seemingy battling for agony, "But don't you stand there and accuse me of being indifferent- fucking indifferent of all fucking things towards Sung's death. She was my friend before yours, and losing her hurt just as much as anything else."

You remember crying out, not finding an interest on holding in neither your sobs nor your coughs any longer as you did so right at his face, further recalling how you felt not even an ounce of guilt whatsoever as you purposefully reminded him of your current illness in hopes of making him feel worse.

“y/n please...” Jimin barely utters out, almost visibly fading from the way you raise your voice further in his attempts of cutting you off.

"Don't. Don’t you dare accuse me of ever forgetting that night, because as far as I remember, I was the one who kept inside the pain of losing someone close. I was the one who held you when you cried, consoling you to an unbearable extent that I forgot to console myself." Still looking at him in the eyes, you speak out words of regret as you proceed to cough lightly, the pain inside you endlessly growing that you insisted on passing it to someone else.

One word after another, you could remember physically witnessing the pain in Jimin's eyes.

The way his eyebrows were furrowed together and the glistening streaks that ran along his red cheeks were an evident proof of your success in wounding him, but you didn't care. You told yourself you didn't care. You lied to yourself in saying you didn’t care.

No. You didn't care.

For once, you could still sense that rushing feeling of wanting to lessen the burden of falling in love with Jimin. For once, you wanted to make him feel the pain you've kept inside you for the past two years. For once- for once you wanted to be the cause of his pain, not the other way around.

But that once lasted only as is, just once.

The moment you speak those words against him, your heart begins to ache all the more, the dreaded feeling of guilt and shame and love and pain all united together in rising above your limit as you abruptly collapse onto his arms, growing weak and coughing brutally as the camellias say hello to its desired lover.

You eyes begin to desperately search his as you cling onto him, head proceedingly buried against his chest all the while sobbing uncontrollably, apologies escaping past your visibly whimpering lips, “I-I'm sorry, Chim. I didnt- I don't blame you, I'm so sorry-"

You remember seeing Jimin, just seconds ago having been distraught and practically falling apart from your direct words, somehow manage to gather himself as he stands his ground, still and determined on holding you securely.

His arms are wrapped around you in a protective yet delicate manner, eyes trained worriedly on your fragile state all the while patting your back, tenderly comforting you, “Shh- shh. It’s okay, y/n. Just breathe. Focus on your breathing, that’s right.”

Your breathing has gone erratic, lifting your head a tad bit in order to look at him as you reminisce that night, when you were the one holding him as he cried. "I'm so sorry, Chim."

You remember the first few of your countless apologies which Jimin nevertheminds, holding no other concern than that of which is your state of well-being.

"It's okay, okay? We're okay. Now c'mon, walk with me to the sofa. You can do that right? On three. One, two three..”

Minutes feel like hours as you recall the way Jimin assisted you for a time on end, treating you as though you were a rare delicacy with his manner of tenderness, softness, soft whispers against your ear and soft touches along your spine as he helps you find your amity once more.

Unaware that he is just that — your amity, your armistice.

Sat on the sofa, you continue on controlling your breathing as you inhale in and exhale out, Jimin's voice supple and light by the side of your earlobe as words of encouragement slip past his lips, still slightly red and swollen from his previous cries.

You could practically feel his breath against your ear with the sheer distance between the two of you, the noticeable intimacy of both your positions making you shudder and shut your eyes in an attempt of preserving in place another series of newly blooming flowers.

Standing up abruptly, you look at anywhere but Jimin as you scan your surroundings, all before making a clear statement.

Hesitantly, you whisper, "I think I should go."

Jimin's eyes haltingly falters, confusion capitulating his entire expression before attempting to reach out to you, "So soon? I think you should stay y/n-"

"Why?" You intervene motionlessly.

Caught aback with the benevolence and lack of sentiment in your voice, Jimin unrequitedly stutters as he responds, "Because y-your condition is still not well and I-"

"My brother is a doctor, Chim. I'll ask him to stay with me."

"-I just think it'll be better for you to stay here for a while and rest-"

"Better for me?" You begin, once more keeping his words short, "Or better for you?"

You remember Jimin's widened eyes, clearly not expecting you to say what you did.

"I.." Jimin thinks before continuing, hands grazing yours just as he speaks, "I just want you here. I need you here."

At his words, you remember recalling that exact phrase spoken to you the night Sung died, just when he caught himself falling apart and firstly reached out to you.

You remember the way he stared at you with a sense of longing, a sense of yearning, deeply wanting to convey an emotion you don't- you refuse to understand.

Because you recognizes the love held not only on his eyes, but on his touch, on his lips,

making you want to kiss him, hold him, touch him.

God, you just want to love him.

“Jimin..” Your voice feels light against his face, whispers eluding past your lips as your breath leaves a wisp along Jimin’s plump cheeks, stroking the slightly pink and flushed skin from the sadness it’s undergone not too long ago.

His eyes beam longingly at you, conveying messages that seem foreign to your understanding as your heart palpitates unevenly against his grasp. But it was enough to block your mind, it was enough to drive you wild, it was enough for you to completely lose all sense and thought-process, your brain not reciprocating anything other than what the heart is yearning for.

Him.

And lastly, you remember not being able to hold yourself back as you bring to life the buried words you have kept underground for the longest time.

Your eyes trained directly at his averts down to his lips, the camellias no more blooming as it succumbs to desire, craving no more than to offer him the love you have saved in secret for the past twenty four months, "I love you, Jimin."

Lowly pronounced words as you gaze at him, breath still and steadily fanning the smile slowly forming on his lips.

"I love you too, y/n. You're my best friend."

You remember your conflict, the feeling of pure loss and distraught overtaking you as you remain still. There you were, being loved by him completely, yet it is a love that seemingly leaves you feeling incomplete. Feeling unwhole and broken, feeling void and sunken.

You remember hearing your heart physically crack as you perceive his words, your sight lingering on his own, mockingly filled with a kind of love that you didn't want.

A love that you, quite literally, didn't need.

As soon as you hear what he’s chosen to disclose, you crack an unwilling fictitious smile on your lips just seconds before a hand covers it, your body limpingly maneuvering against Jimin’s hold as you feel your throat contract once more, catching his undivided attention.

Eyebrows furrowed, Jimin calls out in confusion, “y/-”

You remember the endless coughs that had suddenly broke out of you, the worst of what is offered from the Hanahaki being at present time the moment his lips offer a chaffing smile, his concern and sincerity being your death unbeknownst to him.

Coughing vigorously, you push Jimin aside as the overwhelming feeling of sorness and torment leads you to spurt out tears by the corners of your eyes, pushing you to whimper out cryingly. Your back is turned from the origin of your agony as he calls out your name, a voice so quiet yet loud against your hearing, emotionally wounding you as you cry out in pain.

"-y/n..?"

Because you remember a one petal.

And then two, then three,

and you remember blood.

Not wanting to let him see you in such a state that shall most definitely force him to fully understand the meaning of your supposed ‘love’ for him, you run out of his home, opening the door and not bothering to shut it close as you hurryingly exit out.

You ignore all of his calls and pleas as you run

and you run

and you run

and you run

and you cough, thanking the heavens silently as you locate a bus stopped after passing a few blocks.

“y/n wait! Please!-”

You step inside the transportation with no intention of looking back, forcing yourself to cancel out the calls of Jimin's voice, muffled from the reaches of the outside bus doors. A voice that's calling you. A voice that you most definitely would run to if given the opportunity, a chance that excludes coughing and hurting and crying

-and dying.

Ignoring the whispers and talks of the three other passengers inside the vehicle, you avert you tearful sight from and to the driver's concerned gaze as you send a small forced smile his way, meekly stating,

"I don't have any cash on me, but I'm dying in 30 days. You'll let me ride, won't you sir?"

You remember that eventful day, exactly five days ago, one hundred and twenty hours since you had avoided any association with Jimin.

He's contacted you endlessly, knocked on your door several times and even stayed outside your apartment overnight during one weekend, and each time you had luckily spent it over at your brother's. The times he went there though, you were gone and so was Namjoon, leaving him calling out to your brother’s empty studio apartment.

Five days without fits of vicious coughing, yet five days without him.

Is that the sacrifice you have to make to be healthy?

Then, would that be the sacrifice you'd have to make to live?

"Jimin called me."

"AH- Kamchakya!" Your thoughts are finally cut off as you jump at the sound of both your brother's voice and the slam of the door. Stumbling backwards, you barely get the chance to hold your balance as your hand clutches your clothed chest, visibly startled at your brother's sudden presence.

Namjoon had entered your apartment nonchalantly as he shut the door close behind him with no more than a small smack, yet his strength effects the opposite of what is intended.

Eyes widened, you attempt to catch your loss of breath before bending down completely, hands now placed on both knees, "Joon what the hell?! You couldn't have knocked?" Turning aside, you conquest onto throwing the first thing you could find at the genius which he opposingly catches without a beat, throwing the tablecloth right back at you easily as he takes small steps forward, mumbling a small apology afore repeating his previous words, "Sorry. Jimin called me. For the tenth time in five days, may I add."

Rolling your eyes at his bluntness, you contrastingly fail to catch what you once threw as you walk a couple steps back, grabbing the now dirty item and attempting to hide the way your chest tightened by the mere mention of Jimin's name.

"Jimin called you. Congratulations. Would you like an award, big foot?" You joke accordingly.

Now stood up in the kitchen, Namjoon leads on to making himself at home through the means of providing himself something to eat, attempting to hide a small smile dragging its way onto his face out of gladness in finding that his little sister is not letting some pathetic disease affect her overall personality.

"Big foot? That's a new one." Reaching for the bread and peanut-butter, he calmly makes himself a sandwich, as that is the only food he can prepare without failure, all the while strategically conversing in a serious talk with you, "But don't play dumb with me, y/n. You know Jimin and I aren't on good terms right now. Since..." Namjoon trails off, wanting to obviously avoid the topic of your illness.

You sigh, chest heaving as this doesn't go unnoticed by you, of course. Yet not wanting to go down that path in the early morning either, you choose to passively ignore the way he quickly averted his eyes away from you and let him continue.

Clearing his throat surreptitiously, Namjoon proceeds to act indifferent towards the newly formed tension, "-anyway, he and I aren't okay yet but he's still called me for the tenth time, and I finally answered. You're telling me you aren't even a tiny bit curious on what Jimin and I spoke about?"

You've now sat yourself on the kitchen counter, careful not to hit your head on the overtops as you habitually clean up the mess your older brother had habitually started on creating, "I'm not curious, Joonie, because I don't need to ask."

"Mhm, is that so?" Namjoon turns around to look at you, his head somewhat tilted sideways as he proceeds to happily munch away his sloppy and disgusting-looking meal, "You already know what he said then?"

Neatly putting away all the ingredients of which your brother has taken out, you begin to shift in your spot as you look down at your now wobbling feet which you noticed have too begun to unconsciously shift and play with one-another.

You respond hesitantly, letting out another sigh, "Probably asking how I'm doing? Telling you to say sorry to me for him? A bunch of sappy stuff, I bet. He didn't even do anything wrong."

Smiling every so slightly, Namjoon nods his head meekly as he makes his way to the fridge in order to grab some water, throwing his sandwich in the trash bin in the process, "Yeah.." he pauses before chuckling softly, "-that's our Jimin.. Holy shit that sandwich was fucking disgusting by the way. Aish-" He curses before pouring some of the cool liquid on a glass and desperately chugging it down, tears forming around his eyes as he scoffs in distaste.

Confused and surprised, you check to see the bread if its begun to form any mold, which you find none.

"Huh, I wonder why. The bread is good." You say just before stepping off of the counter carefully, "-can't believe you managed to fuck up a sandwich, Joon. You really do suck at cooking, don't you? Well I guess, food in general." You addingly joke, which Namjoon, in contrast, takes complete and total offense to.

Yet just as he is about to bark back at you with a Nobel Prize winning poetic insult, you unintentionally proceed, therefore cutting him off.

"Don't worry, I'll make sure to leave you the recipes of your favorites before I leave, okay?"

Smiling at him innocently, you find no flaw in your choice of words, making your brother's heart ache without warning as you look up at him with a tilted head.

"I know how much you love my cooking anyway, no matter how many times you claim that you don't." You laugh lightheartedly, "I might forget though, since I forget everything- but hey, Jimin cooks a little bit too, so just go to him whenever you miss my cooking, yeah? I know you guys fight a lot but please try not to once I'm g- mph!"

Pausing, your voice is unexpectedly muffled as your lips come in sudden contact with your brother's shoulder, completely quieting you down.

Taking a moment to fully comprehend such an unforeseen situation, it wins a small while for you to come to notice that he has completely submerged yourself in a tight embrace, both arms wrapped around your waist as his chin is placed right on top of your head.

You didn't know how to react.

It is without a doubt that you and Namjoon are close, don't get this wrong. And furthermore are there the endless comforting shoulder rubs and thoughtful words of advice from time to time, but a hug? A hug is usually where the two of you draw the line, both finding an unspoken mutual perspective on personal space.

So to find yourself in his position, with both your hands up in the air by the side of his waists as you remain frozen from the abrupt fright, you remain still, the only thought being in your head is how the last time that the two of you practically hugged this long was back from your parents' passing.

That being thirteen years ago.

Namjoon, on the other hand, does not give a flying fuck as he feels nothing but yearn for you. Your previous words has caused something inside of him to trigger and suddenly feel a certain lack of your warmth and existence, which he hates.

Don't worry, I'll make sure to leave you the recipes of your favorites before I leave, okay?

That's exactly what you had just said.

-please try not to once I'm gone.

You would have added.

His mind is in disarray, his medicinal IQ of 148 fading into an 8 as his thoughts are gathered in shambles, trying so desperately to rid of the now forming vision of a future without your not-so-bad-but-not-good-either cooking, a future without your Namjoon please get a liscense nagging, a future without your unbearable teasing, a future without-

a future without you.

How could he wake up to a future that's missing his little sister?

Namjoon is an orphan now. You both have been for thirteen years. The orphaned doctor, he would sometimes call himself.

And thirteen years ago, this orphaned doctor swore as he looked upon his parents' opened casket for the last time that he will never abandon his sister. Thirteen years ago, this orphaned doctor cried as he smiled against the clear plastic on his dead mother's pale box, swearing under oath that he could never let an accident take his sister away too. Thirteen years ago, this orphaned doctor choked back tears as his hands leave prints against the plastic of his father's case, promising to keep the strength he trusts his dad would have asked of him to endure. Thirteen years ago, this orphaned doctor painfully smiled as he kneeled down and looked at you, your black gloves of mourning beginning to dampen as stains become visible from your attempts of wiping away your brother’s tears.

Thirteen years ago, Namjoon mentally vowed in his deceased father and mother's name to always prioritize you first, determined in a future of being his little sister’s hero as he lastly placed a bouquet of soft pink camellia flowers on top of his parents' shared grave, squeezing your smaller hand intertwined with his.

Thirteen years ago, he was only thirteen, yet he had been the father and the mother and the brother his eight-year old sister needed.

Namjoon didn’t realize when he started crying.

At this point, the both of you are now on the floor, the age difference having been confusing as you are the one cradling you older brother tenderly.

Your once frozen hands are now soft and delicately wrapped around his back, rubbing in circular motions as you mouth words of comfort against his ear. Dampness could be felt on your shoulder down to your chest as your brother maneuvers while sobbing silently, head now seemingly permanent on the base of your neck.

Does being sick always come with scenes like this? You think to yourself.

"Shh, Joon. C'mon it's okay. Shh, it's alright," You coo softly, your own tears subsiding as you don't care of much other than your brother's current distress, "Joonie, c'mon. Seeing you like this is breaking my heart."

Okay scratch that, your tears aren't subsiding, they're sliding.

"Joonie..." You whisper softly yet desperately, wanting nothing more than to console your brother ever so leniently, "-please stop crying."

Suddenly, you feel Namjoon halt as he abruptly pushes away from you at an arms length, hands holding both sides of your shoulder as his reddened eyes direct yours before making the suggestion,

"Get the surgery."

Truly, that was not the right time to bring up the surgery, of this Namjoon is certain.

And to be honest, he doesn't even have a clue whether there is a right time to bring up the surgery. But he's become overwhelmed and desperate, wanting nothing more than to guarantee your life be saved. So although the timing doesn't match, he allows the situation to happen and chooses to not take back his previous words, instead facing whatever you decide to let on. Fate shall take its course.

Caught aback, you look at your brother bewilderedly, "What?"

"Get the surgery, y/n." He sniffingly repeats, nose still red and mouth still dry from his previous and still cooling breakdown.

"What are you talking about, Joon?” You smile slightly, eyebrows knitted and confused. “What surgery?"

"y/n," Namjoon begins, voice short and desperate, "I told you about this, didn't I? I was training for medicine a few years ago, yeah? I was an intern volunteering. My superior's patient had the disease, th- the Hanahaki disease, right?" Namjoon speaks relentlessly as he becomes breathless, looking slightly crazy as he rambles over a particular memory which you have no recollection of discussing with him.

"His name was Jung Hoseok, one of the first ten Hanahaki surgery recipients. He survived, y/n. The surgery was a complete success. He's alive even to now and I also still have his contact saved in my phone. Look-"

"Wait wait wait," You shake your head, hands coming to stop his phone-reaching hands all the while trying to process the vast information suddenly provided, "-the Hanahaki surgery? The surgery you did a Science project on that I helped you with during your senior high school year? F-flower Chowder? The Flower Power?" You finish, grinning at the newly found memory yet just moments before frowning entirely,

"Joon, you're telling me to get the Flower Power?"

Namjoon inhales a short intake of breath as he looks down and shuts his eyes, dreading the soon-to-be-happening conversation, "I know this seems crazy but-"

"Yeah no shit, it's crazy."

"Just hear me out oka-"

"This is really bat-shit off the walls crazy, Kim Namjoon!"

"-it's medicine, y/n. It's not really crazy-"

"medicine. my. ass."

"-it's been successful each time it was performed, and-"

"Joon just stop it!"

"-it's the only way to save your damn life!"

With wide eyes you blankingly stare at him, scoffing in disbelief at his sudden raise of voice, "Save my life? Then what? I go to live like a fucking robot for all eternity? Lose all my emotions and live as some kind of cyborg? We aren't in a fucking sci-fi movie, Joon!"

Processing your words, Namjoon does understand your point; but he's become helpless, the helplessness making him reckless, the recklessness making him desperate, and the desperation leaving no room for understanding your point, "A robot is still alive, y/n."

All in all, a reckless mess.

"A robot is still al- what?! Joon, are you hearing yourself?" You speak incredulously.

No, truth to be told, Namjoon is not hearing himself.

"I don't know what you think this, but I am not about to turn into some kind of sim with no feelings. Both you and I know that I would rather die as I live than live as I exist to be nothing more than just that, existing." You speak threateningly, "Don't you ever make me go through that, Joon. Not even as a last resort and not even when I'm not awake anymore to defend my point."

Holding up your right pinky finger, you raise your eyebrows, staring at him expectantly, "Promise me."

Namjoon glances down at your raised finger, jaw clenched and gaze hesitant. Yet just as he proceeds to reach forward in order to seal the deal, he speaks one last time, defeated, "And what if it is the last resort, y/n?"

You look at him, eyes downcast as you begin to subconsciously lower your hand as he continues, "What if you're moments away from leaving me? What do I do? Do I just let you die? Do you really expect me to just let you die even wh- when there's an option to take where you can live?" Namjoon is breathless as he speaks, voice desperate in convincing you.

Sighing, you lower your head slightly, "Joon, I already told you that I'm okay. I'm ready. I've accepted it-"

"But I haven't." Namjoon cuts you off, his words serving a stab at your heart.

"I haven't accepted it. I won't accept it." He takes hold of both your hands, lowering his height so that the two of you are on same eye level afore smiling sadly, "I've lost both our parents, y/n. I've accepted that. I've lived with that. But you can't ask me to accept losing you either because I don't think I'll be able to keep myself sane without you around. I need you, y/n. You're my sister, my anchor, God, you're my lifeline. You've kept me going for these past thirteen years, and I love you. I love you so so so so much, nae yeodongsaeng." He finishes, your heart crumbling at the sight of his flooding eyes.

"And I'm sorry if this is somewhat unfair to you, but please." Namjoons cries out, voice barely above a whisper as he sheds diring tears, "-please choose to try. Choose to try to live.

-If not for you, please do it for me."

"Fuck you Namjoon." You curse mutteringly, voice low and steady as you stand in front of Jimin's door for the past ten minutes.

You twist and turn like a little child as you curse mentally, feeling dread throughout your entire physicality and not at all wanting to continue with your plan. Nonetheless, you remind yourself of your brother's desperation and of your reasons for doing this.

For your brother, you cheer on.

"Okay. Okay! I can do this." You jump up and down, feet bouncing lightly against the hard ground, repeating the same phrase over and over again, "I can do this."

Turning to knock, your mind then suddenly flushes with dread as you subconsciously retreat back to your car, hands waving frantically around, "I can't do this."

"y/n?"

You freeze.

Fuck.

Hands still amidst the air, you stay still, unbelieving of the situation.

"y/n? What are you- is that you? Am I seeing shit right now?" He mumbles the last words to himself, which he silently thanks goes unbeknownst to you as you stay frozen, feet glued onto the ground and heart beating out of your chest at the familiar sound of his voice.

Hesitating, you muster up the determination to slowly turn around.

Your throat tightens once more all the while your heart contrastingly does backflips as you physically see him for the first time since five days and-or one hundred and twenty hours and-or a very painful long time for someone who's in love with someone.

"Hey, Chim." You meekly call out, trying to hide the anxiety creeping in within you.

Jimin, still processing your presence after countless failure of trying to see you, steps forward lightly, eyebrows furrowed as he evidently attempts to figure out the right words to say, "Hey."

"Hey." You wince as you attempt a grin.

Jimin's lips form a tight smile, "Hey."

.

.

.

Shit, this is so awkward.

The thought enters the both of your minds as a seemingly unprecedented tumbleweed passes by.

Clearing your throat, you notice the way Jimin looks down at his fiddling thumbs and curious little pinkies as you speak out once more, trying to ease the visible tension, "So are you going to invite me in or what?" You laugh breathily, chest heaving up and down in desperation of holding in those God-awful petals.

Jimin looks up at you with wide eyes, breathing a sigh of relief as he nods his head repeatedly, "Right- right! Yeah come in. This is your home too, you know." He speaks as he holds out his keys and turn to unlock his door, not noticing the way you've weakened among with the just fallen petal that silently wisped past your lips.

This is your home too, you know.

It's insane how such light words could make a person feel so lost and contracted.

Seven simple words that were spoken without a thought have you in a dazed mentality, hand tighteningly gripping your clothed heart before faking a positive expression as he turns around to face you.

"You can head inside first." Jimin shows that beautiful smile, moving aside as he lays his hand out in the direction of his now opened abode.

You only nod in return as you waste no time in entering, mumbling a small 'thanks chim' as you pass by.

He then follows soon after, set and determined on making you feel at home as he steps forward.

Yet a sight goes inevitable as your head spins around a moment barely passing as you enter his home, catching the vision of Jimin accidentally stepping on the camellia flower, the fragment that symbolizes your unrequited love, your pain, which lay on the timid ground, cracking it in half.

It seems the universe really is telling you something.

You ponder to yourself as you gaze wanderingly, the now torn petal not leaving your sight.

Smiling ironically, the formidable occurence somehow boosts your acceptance of the situation at hand as you make your way to the sofa, speaking aloud even more so formidable words, "We need to talk, Jimin."

Just moments before sitting down, Jimin remains still, eyes glazing at you directly for a second before gathering himself and proceeding to act indifferent, "Of course."

Jimin. He thinks.

Not chim, Jimin.

"Jimin I-"

"No please-" Jimin cuts you off as you begin to speak, "Please let me say first what I've been keeping inside for this past week of being avoided by you."

You didn't know whether you were supposed to take offense or not, yet nonetheless you decide

"-just wanted to let you know that I'm getting surgery."

I can't believe she's calling me Ji- "What?"

You smile empathetically, "I'm getting surgery, Jimin."

part 3, maybe?

taglist: @itsdingdong @honeyd99 @010op10 @chubsjmin @outropjmm @nynhope

when the camellia blooms | pjm

park jimin x kim! reader | 1 | 2

sypnosis: diagnosed with the hanahaki disease, you had only two options - accept a deathly fate, or never love again. 

genre: au, angst, fluff, humor, friends to lovers? maybe.

warnings: many talks of death and dying, minor character death, pain, unrequited love, swearing, talks of past sexual experience while intoxicated, pining, longing, really sad reader, and lots of angst.

word count: 7.2 k

"you would die for her, for him."

"You're dying."

The two words escape past his lips steadily and breathily as your widening eyes linger on the way his hands fiddle with one another out of habit. He sighs deeply and resists the urge to avoid screaming at you and maintain eye contact out of professionalism, pushing back his slipping glasses.

"At this rate, you won't have any more than a month. Had you told me this sooner, y/n, the results wouldn't have been as scarce. But because you waited after almost a year of this, I'm afraid there's not much to do." He pushes his desk lightly to pull away from it, creating a mere distance between himself and the papers which finalized your future's passing. Reaching his collar, he tugs on his tie to loosen it before unbuttoning the first stitch as he looks at you with seemingly stray and angered eyes mixed with sympathy.

Suddenly, his sight wanders the room as he shakes his head repeatedly, scoffing in disbelief. He then smiles, dimples prominent, lip tightened, eyebrows furrowed, and eyes broken, piercing straight at its target - that being you.

Standing up, he takes off his glasses and slams his fist onto the chair's arm rest before running a hand across his hair, softly hissing.

The professionalism is now out of the drain, "You're an idiot, y/n."

"Fucking stupid. How could you not- I mean- how could you not tell me? I'm your brother! We're family. Blood. We're supposed to- we're supposed to tell each other these things and you just fucking- you kept it to yourself all these months! Ten months! And now I'm sitting here being the one to tell you that you're dying? That you're leaving me? I would've done something. I would've helped you, I- I would've killed whoever this person you're in love with is. y/n, please- I just-"

You don't know why, but you felt exhausted.

The ringing in your ears is deafening. Truthfully, you hadn't heard a single thing the minute you received news that you'll be, well, passing away. Not to mention, within 30 days time.

It's not as if you didn't already know about your condition, of course you did. Coughing soft pink camellia flowers every time you see the man that's brought you here is not exactly something that just simply passes a blind eye. You sense it, you feel it, and it hurts.

It really, really hurts.

You also felt awful for your brother. You hadn't meant for it to go this far. You didn't mean to not tell him. You didn't want your assigned doctor to suddenly call in sick and have your brother temporarily take his place. You didn't mean for him to find out this way - such a twisted, horrible fucking way, but here you are.

"I'm sorry, Joon. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for this to go this far. I just-"

"Were you ever even going to tell me?" He cuts you off, voice low and steady, almost afraid of your coming response.

Your eyes locate his across the cramped room, and one could clearly tell that it's striving its hardest to fight against desperate tears.

"I- yes, Joon. I was. Of course I was. I was gonna do it after this check in actually, but I guess God wanted you to find out sooner than I intended, though He could've just waited a little while longer and it would've been fine." You joke whisperingly, the heavy weight of your heart lightening just a small bit when you notice the corners of his lips twitch and his eyes faintly soften.

Regrettably, that was a lie. You didn’t plan on telling him, not today at least. Maybe not even ever.

The softening air lasts for only a second as his following question makes you hold back the urge to cough up another camellia flower slowly blooming its way to your throat.

"Who is it?"

Genuine, concerned, curious. These were all that he was.

But noticing the way your body went entirely rigid at his words and the way your hand clutched your clothed chest in attempt to shut down what you know will happen next, Namjoon's brotherly instincts causes him to naturally make his way towards you softly, taking small and careful strides towards your fragile state.

And once he's finally reached you, he gets on his knees gently in order for him to be of nearing same height level as you're sitting down, his hands rubbing the back of your hand in a comforting manner.

He does this all before pulling the trigger.

"Who are you in love with, y/n?"

two years back

"Jimin!"

You call out your brother's best friend loudly, who is currently in the midst of doing a one-man stage play in front of the mirror, "Joon's saying you guys need to get going now. Says he has a patient in two hours and wants to go over all sorts of documents before treating her."

Turning around, you scan the living room and dining room for the keys of your friend's car as your brother also asked you to hand them to him since the two always end up on forgetting it until they've already reached the car parked across your apartment's block.

You hear Jimin shuffle behind you, "Really? He wants to go over documents at- 9 AM in the morning?"

Smiling at his attempts of complaint, you nod your head softly in order to play along and answer his rhetorical question, "He really needs to learn how to drive doesn't he? Since he's dragging you along everywhere he goes."

Jimin laughs at your statement, which being an opinion, your brother would argue, 'driving isn't a necessary aspect of life.' But who really thinks like that? Oh right, non-drivers.

“I guess he’s getting too caught up in learning medicine that he forgot to learn how to officially become an adult.” Reaching above the kitchen top, you finally found sight of Jimin's car keys.

How did it even get up there? You think to yourself. It's really high up, so Namjoon must've been the one to leave it as to where it is.

You groan slightly, "Joon, can you get over here! I found Chim's keys but it's too far up high so I can't reach it. Hell I don't even think he can reach this-"

You are cut off when you feel a hand sneak around your waist, making you flinch and suddenly spin cautiously.

Eyes widened. Lips parted. Breath hitched. You let out an inaudible gasp as you come to the realization that Jimin is now in front of you, head tilted with an amused smile on his face, "Excuse you? I can very much reach this." He says, all the while reaching up behind you, inchly leaning forward. At this point, your body is being pressed up against the kitchen counter and his oh-so-very toned front.

This small action is enough to instigate a flaming abyss inside of you as you very much attempt to calm your alarmed heart.

You can feel the cuts and lines of his abs against your chest as he is now standing on his tippy toes, desperately trying to reach the keys on the kitchen top. Anyone that could see his posture would call him adorable, but your body is currently being sandwiched and by all that is high and mighty your mind can't even really process a single thing. Wait, what were you thinking just now?

"See? Got it." Jimin falls back in place as he jiggles his car keys in front of your stone-cold face, smile wide as he giggles softly, "Piece of cake, y/n."

He then proceeds to move on with his life like he didn't just do what the fuck he just did.

Clearing your throat, you blink about a million times in order to gather your thoughts. Your heartbeat is racing faster than the speed of light and your lips have become as dry as a desert. If you had gone standing on your tippy toes just as he did, you would've been a baby hair away from lips touching. The thought is enough to make you grow weak.

Yet as if something inside of you is suddenly turned on, no pun intended, you remind yourself that these thoughts are wrong. You can't be having these apprehensions, they aren't right. Because not only is he your brother's best friend, he also has a-

"y/n?" Jimin's soft voice calls out your name.

Breaking out of your trance, you turn to see him sitting down on the dining table, head tilted downwards with a small smile on his face. The sun escapes your pastel curtains as it slips past the window sill, reasoning with the current ray of golden yellow that has found its home on Jimin’s plump cheek, shining on the left side of his luminous face.

It's absolutely senseless how he can look as beautiful as he does simply by existing, and it makes perfect sense that your finding yourself to liking him more and more.

Just look at him.

You are broken out of your enchanted daze once more as dreaded words leave his smiling lips, "I'm gonna ask her to marry me."

Only then were you brought back to your inadequate reality.

“W- what?” You attempt to speak, but you notice the way your voice has suddenly become noticeably hoarse.

Jimin looks up at you with a smile, the kind that has his eyes almost disappearing.

“Sung. I’m gonna ask her to marry me tonight.”

silence.

silence.

and more silence.

Like a coward, that was all what you could muster to respond with.

And only then did you notice the velvet box on his hands, upon which he is tenderly caressing. Only then did you recognize the questionable romantic script of his one-man stage just moments earlier. Only then did you realize that the reason behind his growing smile are because of her, not you. Not because of what had just taken place.

Only then did you remember that no, you can't be having these apprehensions - they aren't right.

Because not only is he your brother's best friend,

he also has a, now upcoming, fiancé.

present time

"I already loved him then, Joon."

By this time, your brother has stood up and begun pacing back and forth the modest office, murmurs of curses towards his friend escaping past his lips, "-that small son of a bitch."

Smiling softly, you look down in reminiscence of the moments you have spent falling for Jimin. "I guess I've always been infatuated with him ever since our first meeting, but my God Joonie," you pause, inhaling a short breath in attempt to stop tears threatening to spill. "-ever since that day, when he told me that he was going to propose to her, I finally realized that like was the wrong term to use. I realized that I loved him and I just- I lost sight of everything." You cry, small sobs coming from you as you blinkingly look up to try to contain the waters forming in your eyes.

It was true. That day, when he told you about his plans to ask her to marry him, you've never felt more indignant.

Of course you faked it at first, congratulated him and consoled him into truthfully believing that she will undoubtedly say yes. But the minute he and Namjoon left your apartment, you collapsed on your carpeted floors, sobbing loudly and hitting your chest repetitively all the while cursing yourself in your head for ever even considering the tiniest of possibilities that you and Jimin could ever happen.

You also went out that night, got drunk, found a guy, slept with him, and never looked back.

Sure, this may seem like a regular night out for many, but not being the type to kiss and sleep, sex meant a lot to you.

Nothing wrong with one night stands, that just wasn't your particular chosen lifestyle. But you were wasted. You were intoxicated. You didn't know what you were doing. Had you been sober, you wouldn't have done what you did, especially with the person you did it with. So when you woke up in the middle of the night naked in bed next to a familiar face and realized what you've done, you rushingly stood up, got dressed, and left, ignoring the calls of the man you had just been with.

You went straight home and washed yourself for hours, feeling dirty and sloppy and disgusting. You can easily recollect sitting down in the showers, head tucked underneath and in between your legs, sobbing and crying loudly as the steam surrounding you from the warm water kept on worsening.

You hated what you did, and you most definitely despised the reason for what you did, - to simply get over someone else. You felt guilty. You felt ashamed. What would Jimin think? You thought to yourself. And though that truly didn't really matter, the ache in your heart kept on making you believe otherwise.

You didn't notice how your tears have fallen and stained your newly-bought jeans until Namjoon's hands holding a napkin comes within your perception.

Mumbling a small 'sorry Joonie,' you accept his offer and wipe the tears still continuously streaming down your now reddened, warm, and puffy face. As you do this, you furthermore catch sight of your brother's shadow rubbing his face in frustration, matching the groans that you also hear release from him in the background. And without meaning so, you deflate in insecurity.

Hearing the sound of air being released from a pulling force, you look up to see that Namjoon has sat back down, his elbows resting on the desk while his chin rest on his hands. "Does he know about this, y/n?"

You sigh, "No."

"Are you going to tell him?" You hear him ask once more.

Closing your eyes and sniffing lightly, you inhale a steady breath as you answer him for the second time, "I don't know, Joon."

Namjoon looks at you, eyes full of worry and concern. You don't know?

You're his sister, and he loves you. He would do anything for you. If he could shower you with all the love that you lack from Jimin, he would. And he would do it in a heartbeat. But you're dying. You're leaving him. And he doesn't know what to think. He doesn't know what to do. So how could you not know? How could you sit here, in front of him, after keeping this shit for ten months to yourself, tell him that you just don't know?

He feels frustrated. Frustrated over the clearing fact that if you don't know the answer to that simple yes or no question, then how more could you know the answer to when he asks you to make the choice?

The choice - to love or to die.

A very careful, unprecedented surgery that has been performed by professionals only a few times, yet each one has been successful. This seems easy, yeah. A surgery to save your life? Of course you'll do it! But there's a reason as to why this has been done only by a certain small count.

To perform the surgery and live, the price is not the expense, but rather the loneliness that shall come as you spend the rest of your life void of emotions. The surgery doesn't get rid of love on its own, it gets rid of everything that comes with it - happiness, sadness, trust, pain, pretty much everything that one can possibly feel. The only emotion left is indifference, yet even indifference lacks its self-sustainability.

Who would want to live like that?

Who would want to live a life where you just simply exist and nothing more?

He knows that the day will come eventually - when he offers you the choice, the chance to save your life, and he knows it will come soon. But right now, he has chosen to prioritize being a brother over a doctor. Right now, the only thing in his mind is comforting you.

"Okay." Your brother nods, making your eyes widen slightly in shock.

Okay? No scolding? No 'how could you not know?!' older brother reprimands? But then you remember, oh yeah. You're dying. And who could possibly scold their dying little sister?

"I'm sorry Joonie-" You try to apologize once more before he cuts you off again.

"No, don't apologize, y/n. It's not like you could've possibly wanted for any of this to happen, yeah?" He offers you a smile, but you could easily see past its fabricated purpose, "But instead let me ask you this. And I need you, in our deceased parent's name, to be completely honest with me."

You only nod, completely submissive and understanding of his seriousness the moment that he mentioned your passed parents.

"What you just told me, when you first fell in love with him, that was two years ago." He starts, making you nod again in agreement.

"But you were diagnosed only ten months ago."

Your heart drops, and you don't nod again.

"The Hanahaki Disease is not something that gradually begins and comes to existence over the course of time. It is an illness that is triggered. It could be by a sudden forthcoming realization or proclamation of love, or by an event that triggers the heart to completely shut down in overwhelmth. Either way, basing on the timing of what you've said, you should've been diagnosed with the Hanahaki two years ago. But you weren't."

Namjoon eyes you questioningly, but not too much to the extent that you feel uncomfortable, only just enough to remind you of the importance of this conversation, "You were only diagnosed ten months ago, y/n. Why?"

You sit still, not wanting to move, as if your stone figure would somehow make him think that you're not real or that you're a simple figment of his messed up imagination.

"y/n, what happened ten months ago?"

He finishes his question and you swallow harshly only to realize that you're parched, your throat completely dry. You then tilt your head to steal a gaze at your brother, making you catch the way his eyes suddenly widened as if he just realized something of high importance. As if he had just realized the answer to his own question. And that didn't work with you.

Clearing your throat, you are about to answer him in order to cut off his thoughts until the door swings open and you feel your throat compact, - the coughs of a camellia flower slipping its way to visibility -because there he is,

the man of the hour.

"y/n." He noticeably breathes a sigh of relief before making his way to you, engulfing you in a giant embrace. "I was so worried about you. Why didn't you tell me you had the Hanahaki? How could you not let me know? How long have you had it? Who is it? I swear I'm going to murder whoever this piece of shit is that he dared ever making yo-"

"Jimin this is a professional space between a doctor and his patient." The two of you pull away almost exactly the same time as soon as Namjoon speaks up, Jimin's eyebrows furrowing, "Get out."

"What?" Jimin barely gather the voice to ask him as he is completely caught off guard of his friend's erupting vulgar attitude.

"I said-" Namjoon speaks before getting caught off again.

"No trust me, I heard what you said. But what?" Jimin repeats himself, "So you're telling me you're not prioritizing being y/n's brother right now? You're still caught up in this Doctor Kim bullshit? Like you're a real one?"

"Jimin-" You attempt to budge in, sensing that a certain trouble may suddenly come knocking.

"No, y/n. Listen hyung-"

"No, YOU listen. You small piece of shit." Your brother raises his voice, "-don't come barging in here like you own the place or like you have any authority over her. She is MY sister and this is a family matter. So it's best you stay out of it and keep in your lane."

At this point, Namjoon is in front of Jimin, a short distance separating the two of them, "And don't you ever dare speak to me in that tone again. I know you're my friend, but remember to treat me with respect. Not only am I your superior, but I'm also your hyung." He finishes with a serious voice, tone low, and message deep. His earnest eyes piercing through his friend's pained ones.

Jimin, mouth slightly agape being at loss for words and clearly confused at his close friend's unreasonable anger, storms out of the room.

But not before he drags you along with him.

Namjoon is quick to act as he tries to reach for you, but you turn back and look at him pleadingly, signaling him that it's okay and to not worry. And him being the understanding brother that he is, pulls back and holds himself steady.

You can handle him. You’re a Kim. You’re strong.

Strong enough to survive through this.

You’ll be okay.

And as he watches the two of you leave, the door closing shut right in front of him, only then does reality hit Namjoon as his legs tremble abruptly, feeling lightheaded all of a sudden.

Falling down the floor, he reaches onto the desk for assistance as he slides his back down the wooden wall, hands painfully fisted and finding its way to cover his mouth in order to muffle the choked-in sobs perilously escaping him. He proceeds to blink away the tears and bite harshly on his lips, trying to diminish the flourishing grievance in his heart.

His sister is dying, and he doesn't know what to do.

“Doctor Kim? The next patient is ready to see you.” A knocking nurse distracts him and calls out from behind the door, “-shall I send them in?”

Namjoon sniffs heavily and sighs deeply, rushingly grabbing his glasses and adjusting his emotionally wrecked state, “One moment!”

He lets out a soft, shaky breath and reminds himself once more that you’re a Kim.

You’re strong.

You can beat this.

It'll be alright.

You'll be okay.

"IM NOT OKAY JIMIN-SHI!" You voicely whine out to your friend who is currently dragging you along the halls of the hospital and out the technologically advanced glass doors, "What is wrong with you?!" You pull your arm aggressively from his grasp as you bend down, hands resting on your knees while you hastily try to catch your breath. The camellia flower stuck just along the chords of your throat making it very difficult.

Jimin stares at you worryingly, having forgotten of your illness, "O- oh no. y/n, I'm sorry I forgot I- are you okay? Should we go back?" He stutters in concern before you hold up one finger, signaling him to shut the hell up. "-sorry."

Looking at you like this, tired and exhausted from having to put up with all his bullshit, Jimin feels a sudden urge to reach out and embrace you tightly, almost forgetting of his previous encounter with your brother.

And so that's exactly what he does.

You are caught off guard the moment you feel a hand grab your shoulder by means of pulling you closer all the while another rests just at your crook of spine, and although this first makes you stumble in a not-so-very prettily way, your destination is found to be in your friend's embrace, his fragile yet protective arms wrapped around you securely.

Not letting this moment simply pass by, you let yourself melt in his arms as you find the comfort meant to be found in his comforting hug, wrapping your arms around his neck as you slightly stand on your tippy toes. Somehow, your simple action makes him pull you even closer, one hand creeping behind your neck all the while his other is completely wrapped around your waist although this time is tighter than before.

As the two of you stay like this in the middle of the sliding glass doors of the hospital, crowds of unfamiliar voices passing by you and ambulances ringing endlessly against your ear, you let yourself submerge within the passion of your heart.

Amidst the chaos and cries of your nearingly counted days, you find consolation in the arms of the same man that has put you in front of death's door, and quite frankly, you wouldn't really want it any other way. You'll take what is given by the heavens above when it comes to Jimin, because well- you love him.

Unfortunately, that quick and simple thought is enough to make you lose control of your reminded disease.

"y-y/n what's- are you okay?" Jimin pulls away from you abruptly as you break into coughing fits, pastel pink camellia blossoms escaping your trembling lips.

The sight has caught the attention of many civilians, but both you and Jimin remain to be indifferent about them as you or more or less are occupied with your illness all the while Jimin specifically aims his attention on you alone.

"Alright that's it, screw your brother alright?" Jimin exclaims a bit louder than what you're comfortable with as this obviously did not benefit with the proceedingly growing public focus on the two of you, "-we're going back, y/n, it's my fault for bringing you outside so suddenly-"

"No chim, please-" You roughly attempt to speak out, your throat painfully extracting the feeling of abrasiveness, "Please just- let's just go."

"y/n.."

“Please chim,” you cut him off for what seemed to be the fiftieth time, coughing, “-please. I don’t want to be here any longer.”

Hesistant yet concerned, Jimin nods slowly as he assists your side, his hands finding its home around your waist and lower back while you both take short and careful strides. You destination is still unknown, but you didn’t mind. A journey a day with someone you love has never turned out for the worse.

At least that's what you think.

"Really?" You roll your eyes as you notice the familiar lane that Jimin's car just entered, "I asked you to get me out of the hospital area, I didn't ask for a sleepover, Jimin." You jokingly accuse him, but you can't help the smile that makes its way on your puffed-up face as you notice him smoothly take a side-glance at you with a knowing smirk.

"Well I thought that with all that bad hospital air, you might've wanted to breathe in a familiar scent," Jimin responds as the car comes to a stop.

You turn slightly to open the door and step out before you here a meek, "Jankkanman!" and perceive a 5'9 in height blondie come running around the bonnet in order to open the car door for you as a gentleman would. It is such a sweet and casual pantomime, yet an ill-patient diagnosed with an illness of the heart can never bring you any wins. Consequently, his actions only causes your throat to feel strained and compacted for the endless time.

God, how much did you love this man that such a simple gesture makes you want to cough out countless of fully bloomed flowers?

You thank the heavens above for your past endless experiences that allowed you to now be better in terms of hiding your pain as you attempt to smile genuinely, mumbling a small "thank you" in the process before making your way inside his home.

"So," Jimin starts as the two of you plop down his couch, his eyes seeking for yours as he tilts his head ever so lightly, "what should we do today... now that you're out of that hell hole?"

"Chim!" You scold him lightly, "my brother and your best friend just happens to be working in that hell hole, just in case you forgot, and- hey! You work there too, you ass." You accusingly point at him all the while hitting his arm playfully.

Jimin is was a nurse in that hospital. Your brother is a doctor.

He laughs and smiles widely, "Nope. I don't work there anymore, remember? But I did for a while, which is why I can most definitely testify that that place is indeed, a hell hole. And by the way, I'm kind of offended that you pretty much forgot my lost profession just then, y/n, like what the fuck?" He jokes endingly.

Your eyes soften slightly as he mentions his lack of job, yet you still stubbornly choose to ignore his last remark. "Well I sure hope that's not the case since I'll be most likely spending my last days there."

Oops.

The silence that ensues goes inevitably noticed by the two of you the moment those words escaped past your lips, but you paid no mind. That was the reason that you asked him to take you away anyways. You weren't hoping for some cliche romantic bullshit where the two of you simply elope and forget your real worries in your life, no. Instead you were here with the main purpose of facing it.

Besides, even if you did want to leave with him, you couldn't. Remember?

Jimin is the first to break the excessive blockade, "Don't say that y/n."

You sigh, "But it's true, chim."

"I don't give a shit if it's true or not."

"Chim.." You are slightly startled with his sudden outburst, caught off guard in the way his voice slightly raised as his attention and body language are now completely directed at you, "Wha- why are you getting mad?"

Jimin scoffs, almost irritated at your oblivious question, "Why? Because you're talking of dying like it's not a big deal, y/n!" His voice getting louder and louder by every word he spits out, "God, you know you can be so fucking insensitive sometimes. What, did you already forget the shit I suffered when I lost someone? Did you already forget all the fucking shit I suffered when death took her from me?"

At the mention of her, you pause. Speechless. Guilty. Hurt.

Of course you remember. How could you not? You remember the darkest of days as like it was just yesterday.

You remember getting that call in the middle of the night from the contact name of your brother as you slightly answered it in an irritated voice, "Joon I swear to God if you're asking me to drive you to work in the middle of the fucking night I will personally drag your ass right now to get a driver's liscenc-"

"y/n?"

You remember immediately stopping as you recognize the voice that most certainly did not belong to your brother, "Chim?"

"y- y/n."

You remember the outbreak of his sobs as you call out to him, his sniffles and cries becoming more and more prominent as you stumble on your feet, struggling with keeping your phone against and in between your ear and your shoulder as you hurryingly take off to grab a jacket and your keys, "Chim what's wrong, where the hell are you? W- where's Joon?"

You remember the way your heart dropped as your worst fear came to mind, the thought of losing your brother itself being enough to make you wobble in your feet, your heart clenching. He had your brother's phone, and he was crying.

"N-no, he- he's fine, y/n. It's not him, hyung's... hyung's fine."

You remember the way he struggled to find the right words; the way he sniffled and stuttered through forming such a simple sentence all the while you on the other side of the line breathe out a sigh of relief at the information of your brother's wellness, yet feeling slightly guilty that your emotions are in contrast with your friend's.

"It's Sung."

You remember Jimin's worst.

"It's Sung, y/n. Sh- she got in an accident on the way here to visit me during my off hours and- fuck! Some fucking demon pulled a hit and run on her. She was walking, y/n. She walked an hour here and got ran over by someone and.. they're doing an operation on her- hyung's assisting and he just- it's bad. It was really bad and she was bleeding all fucking over and- hyung, he- he left his phone and I didn't know what to do so I just called you- I didn't, they pushed me out of the room, y/n. I need you here. Please, please. Please come here because I'm losing my fucking mind and I need you here."

You remember driving to the hospital as careful as you can with the fear of the possibility of an accident occurring still in the midst of the back of your mind.

You remember reaching the doors of the emergency room and being greeted with a pair of reddened and exhausted eyes that looked up the moment you walked in, "Jin."

He stands up to greet you politely but you stop him, obviously seeing that his reaction upon seeing you is no more than a forced delight, "Let's not do this under these circumstances, okay? You're allowed to feel unwelcoming. It's okay, Jin."

He does no more than mumble a small 'thank you' before going back to his previous spot with you trudging along beside him.

You remember feeling the sorrow of the man beside you as you watch him lean his head back against the wall, fragile streaks of tears rolling down his flushed cheeks. You couldn't imagine his pain, the pain of such a situation where your sister's life is at stake. You wanted to comfort him, to softly rub his back and whisper sweet encouragements against his ear, little white lies that his sister is guaranteed to make it without a doubt. But you couldn't. You weren't here for him, regardless of your history. Regardless of the way you left him the morning after your supposed mistake.

"Uhm, have you seen Jimin?"

You remember the way his void eyes find yours and the way his lips lightly upturn as he gives you a forced smirk, trying to keep up with his image of being Kim Seokjin, Kim Sungkyung's handsome and cocky older brother, "And here I was thinking fate brought you here to me, y/n." He trails off, "-considering how you fucked me then dipped."

You gasp slightly and playfully hit his arm at the blunt mention of your regretted one night stand as you give him a small yet genuine smile, partly glad yet at the same time worried that he can make such remarks during a situation like this.

It was strange really, how everything in your life seemed to be connected. How on the day you felt your heart tore apart the time Jimin first mentioned his planned proposal, you went out and accidentally slept with the soon-to-be-bride's older brother.

Letting out a small sigh, Jin nods his head in the direction of a different waiting room, "He left when I came. Guess he was embarrassed of how fucked up he was but hey- I'm not doing any fucking better am I?" He tells you, subtly pointing at the very visible streaks of tears still falling down his now puffy face.

You get on your feet and turn to leave but not before giving one last glance at the man next to you, a hand softly reaching to rub his shoulder, "I'm so sorry, Jin. I wish I could stay, but-"

"It's okay, y/n. Go." Jin encourages you with a small yet noticeably forced smile, "He needs you."

And so you do, bidding him a soft goodbye before taking off, your eyes beginning to water out of the guilt of leaving a friend in that state.

You then remember being suffocated. Suffocated from the embrace that greeted you the moment Jimin entered your peripheral vision. You remember landing on your behind with a harsh thud from the struggle of Jimin's weight as he continues to seek your embrace for means of comfort, the two of you falling down the floor. You remember getting drenched from Jimin's tears as you cradle him as would a wailing child, rocking him back and forth all the while softly rubbing his back, whispering every bit of amenity that could make him feel better.

You remember feeling your heart physically ache as you fail to notice the tears that have fallen down your own eyes, blurring your sight.

To see Jimin in this state, so broken and hurt and scared, it tore you apart. You wanted him happy. You wanted him smiling. You wanted him. You loved him. And God forbid that you're admitting this in your own mind while his fiance is battling for her own life, but fuck.

You wanted nothing more than to lay down your own life for Sung so that she could continue in existence for him.

If you could, you would take here place.

You would die for her, for him.

You remember pushing back your thoughts as you put focusing on Jimin your first priority. You remember keeping him in a neverending tight embrace as he neverendingly sobs against your chest, his lips leaving prayers you could barely yet still tried to understand;

please don't let her die

don't take her away from me

i love her too much

i still have to marry her.

You then remember hearing a wail of anguish, putting a pause to both Jimin's silent pleas and your eavesdropping as the both of your heads turn to pinpoint from whom the noise came from.

You remember the way Jimin stilled.

"No."

You remember his whisper of such a small, two-lettered word, yet somehow it caused your heart to crumble.

"No no no no-"

You remember having to tackle Jimin slightly as he causes a mess of himself, punching the seats and harshly tugging on his hair all the while screaming wails of pain and suffering, "Jimin please-"

"No- get the fuck off of me! Sung?!"

You remember how Jimin lost sight of reality as he pushes you off of him, your body making in contact with the cold tiled ground.

"SUNG? SUNG! LET ME INSIDE-"

You remember seeing nurses and other staff pull the man you love back as he causes a scene, starting to become physical and violent with the people surrounding him, "PLEASE! Please- I just- I NEED TO SEE HER! SHES MY FIANCE-"

You remember seeing a man dressed in blue make his way near Jimin, a needle in his hand.

"H-hey, no!" You remember trying to catch up to the nurse, attempting to prevent them from giving whatever the shot was to Jimin, "Stop! Please-"

"y/n. D-don't."

You remember feeling a hand on your shoulder which makes you turn around instantly, only to find the culprit behind the anguished scream just moments prior Jimin's outburst.

"Jin." You start, "-they're going to sedate him. That- that's not okay."

"They have to, y/n." Another voice calls out from behind Jin, "I know how it seems and I don't like it either, b-but he's becoming violent. They have to sedate him."

"Joon." You whisper softly.

What a sick and twisted game that life is playing on you, that your brother, Jimin's best friend, Jimin's best man at the wedding being planned, is the one to give news of the bride's passing.

"Sung, is she really.." You trail off, not having the heart to finish your sentence.

It seems neither does he, as he responds with nothing but a simple avoidance of eye contact.

"HYUNG!"

You remember Jimin's faint and tired yet still firm voice as he calls out your brother, "Hyung, you saved her didn't you? You- you were part of the surgery. You saved her didn't you? Didn't you!?" Jimin is weak as he trails off his words as the effect of the syringe takes its course, but that doesn't stop him from reaching out to the three of you, "H-hyung. Tell me you saved her. P-please tell me you saved h-her."

Namjoon doesn't stop the tear that rolls down his hardened face as he only shakes his head, "I'm sorry, Jimin. We did our best. We really, really did. I'm so sorry-"

You remember the way Namjoon's voice trails off your hearing as your throat suddenly feels contracted. You remember the itching pain just within your chest as you find the struggle to breath, your hand clutching it harshly. You remember stumbling back just a little bit as you feel lightheaded, thinking that these were only from the overwhelming happenings in that moment.

But then you cough.

And you cough

and you cough

and you cough.

But no one notices you.

Not even yourself.

Your attention remains still at Jimin, who has now dropped completely to the floor, tears still continuously spilling out of his drowsy eyes. Short breaths are released from his trembling lips as he mumbles words that none of you can understand. He then begins to seemingly reach out for something, someone.

"P-please," He whispers.

And as you bend down almost immediately to attend to his calls, you cough.

And you cough

and you cough.

And still no one notices.

No one except him.

You cough as your eyes find his, barely open yet staring right at you from the lows of the floor.

You remember having to excuse yourself and run to the nearest restroom you can find, legs trembling and stumbling on your way there as you push against the winds of the almost empty halls, still coughing with every step you take. And just as you reach the doors of the restroom, you turn back slightly, just enough to catch Jimin's last sight while his body is being carried away to where you guess is a vacant patient's room, all this before his eyes ultimately close.

Eyes you found lastly staring at you.

You remember finally shutting the door and locking it, thanking God silently that you're in a family restroom hence there is no one else inside. You cough desperately, your throat beginning to feel exclusively sore and your lungs beginning to tighten from all the air being released as you cough and cough and cough again.

You reach out to the sink, gripping tightly onto the white metals as you cough and cough and cough again.

You then brushingly turn to the toilet, your eyes watering and lips numbing as you cough and you cough and you cough once more.

You practically clean the whole restroom, as disgusting as that sounds, from all the moving you made as you coughed anywhere and everywhere. You felt awful for the next person to come inside, now that your bacterium were practically in its every corner, side, and space. You cough again, this time harder, the worst one out of the previous.

You remember sensing a certain feeling rise up, something soft yet itchy, something light yet heavy.

And so you cough, and you cough, and you cough, and you cough,

and you bleed.

And amongst the red is a pink.

A single, individual pink petal from what you would soon find out is a camellia flower - the flower that is soon to be the latter symbolization of death chasing you, growing closer, inching nearer, just about to knock on your door.

So of course you remember Jimin's distraught. Of course you remember Sung's - his fiance's death.

Because her death was too, the ultimate beginning of yours.

taglist for part 2?

writer's block, ddaeng.

i'm having such a diffucult time finishing my fics that are currently under editing because of writer's block [why does it even exist] but i promise that i will be striving to release them this month.

there's nothing worse than coming up with great plots only to lose inspiration and yourself halfway through.

but again, i promise to try pushing forward.

fighting!

Bangtan Sonyeondan

♡

all rights reserved © tannieschim - please do not repost, translate, or claim as your own.

f = fluff | a = angst | h = humor

i do not write smut (sorry!)

further request rules are here.

♡

Kim Namjoon

coming soon~

Kim Seokjin

one last try | a, f, h

he's moved on, and so have you. but the fact that he has suddenly makes you question if you have. cause if you have, shouldn't you not care that he has? yeah, you don't understand yourself either: coming soon~

Min Yoongi

➳ one-shot

true love’s kiss | a, f,

marking the day of his death anniversary, you’re given the prime to tick the clock and love your husband back to life. two things to keep in mind: (1) indifference, (2) a kiss.

Jung Hoseok

coming soon~

Park Jimin

➳ series

when the camellia blooms | 1 | 2 | a, f, h

diagnosed with the hanahaki disease, you had only two options—accept a deathly fate, or never love again.

Kim Taehyung

still, it’s you | a, f | ft. jungkook

succumbing to a menacing loss, you wake up in the arms of a man who claims to be your boyfriend even though he looks nothing like him: coming soon~

Jeon Jungkook

wildflower | a, f

you were too late to be his first love—that’s okay. you take comfort in his reassurance that you would be his last. if only it were true. alternatively, jungkook’s feelings are unrequited by his best friend before you came into his life: coming soon~

one last cry | a, f | ft. taehyung

she broke his heart. you fixed it. she pleads him back. you give him away. how the turn tables, if he wasn’t so devastated—: coming soon~

♡

Destined Through Centuries ⇌ KTH & JJK three

★ synopsis :: They say, life isn't a fairytale and it's the truth. When fate brings the four souls close to their soulmates, they only want to be happy till the end. But is it in their fate to be happy till the end? Will it be a happy ending for them?

★ pairings :: jungkook x idhika (fem!reader) & taehyung x anvi (fem!reader)

★ genre :: historical au, modern au, s2l, f2l, non-idol au, fluff and angst.

★ rating :: 18+

★ warning :: kissing, Jungkook being rude to a servant again.

★ notes :: enjoying writing this so far. hope all of you like it too. feedback is always appreciated. <3

1825, Chandralaya Kingdom

Anvi sighs in distress as Idhika keeps whining to her to see the painting she just completed a few days ago. They walk into Anvi’s art chamber, Idhika looking around when her eyes fall on the easel placed on the corner of the room, a thin veil covering the canvas. Idhika finally lets go of Anvi’s hand, her voice filled with excitement as she asks, “Is that the painting?”

Anvi hums, walking over to it. She carefully removes the veil, neatly folding it and keeping it away. Idhika gasps, her eyes widening as she takes in the details of the portrait. “Oh my god, this is magnificent. This doesn't even look like a painting. You two look so real.”

Anvi smiles proudly but it falters as soon as the younger princess says, “I didn't know your painting skills were this good. I mean I knew you were a great painter but– ow!” she yelps as Anvi smacks her shoulder, glaring at her sharply. Idhika rubs her shoulder, lower lip jutting out in a pout, “Alright, I'm sorry. This was expected.”

Anvi crosses her arms over her chest, side-eyeing, “Better.” Idhika huffs, her attention back onto the painting. She's in awe as she takes in all the details of the painting, whether it's the perfect facial features or the clothing, everything's just perfect and smooth. Anvi surely is a great painter.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ🍂

Anvi smiles, looking at herself in the mirror before her as the maids get her ready. It's finally King Min-gyeol’s birthday banquet and they'll be leaving for Korea soon. Anvi turns to look at the door when Idhika enters, wearing a pale blue gown with puffed sleeves. The fabric of the gown is decorated with delicate lace and floral patterns. A sheer, white shawl delicately wrapped around her wrists, her long, silky hair left open, jewelleries decorating her ears and neck. Anvi smiles fondly when she sees how beautiful her sister is looking, “You look breathtaking, Idhi.”

Idhika chuckles, moving to stand beside Anvi's seated figure, her eyes raking over Anvi's figure. Anvi is wearing a cream colored gown which is elegant and classy. The low neckline of the dress is decorated with lace ruffles and the sleeves go just below the elbows and are also decorated with lace. A tiny bow is placed on the waist and the bottom of the gown is decorated with layers and ruffles. Just like Idhika, Anvi's long, wavy hair is left open, her ears and neck adorned with jewelleries.

Idhika pats Anvi's shoulder, leaning down slightly to whisper in her ear, “You look just as beautiful, didi. Taehyung probably wouldn't be able to take his eyes off you today.” Anvi's eyes widen and she glares at her, motioning with her eyes that the maids are around them, even though they're completely unaware about the sisters' conversation, just doing their work. Idhika chuckles, mouthing to her, “They won't notice.”

Anvi sighs, regretting not being more careful with her relationship because Idhika is only talking about it all the time.

1825, Syndril Kingdom

The carriage stops in front of the huge gates of the magnificent palace standing tall and proud. Anvi looks out of the carriage window, so does Idhika but Anvi's heart is beating faster than Idhika. There's an unexplainable excitement in Anvi and she's trying hard not to smile.

They step out of the carriage, looking at the palace before them. It's beautifully decorated with various decorative items. The two princesses follow their parents as they walk across the large garden. A lot of guests are roaming around in the garden and talking to each other while royals from other kingdoms are entering along with them in the palace.

All of the royals are guided to the banquet hall. The interior is simply majestic. Large paintings and gold details are decorating the walls while beautiful chandeliers are hanging down the tall ceiling, shining brightly. The floor is made of the finest marbles, soft and shiny, rich, soft carpets placed on it. Except for that, every corner is decorated with fancy items and flowers.

Anvi looks around, excitement bubbling inside her as she thinks about finally seeing Taehyung after so long. They sit on luxurious, soft sofas, their parents chatting with the other royals.

Anvi sighs, her hands clasped together and resting on her lap as she looks around everywhere. Idhika notices her elder sister's impatience and chuckles, about to make a remark when she notices the man her sister is desperately looking for. She nudges Anvi's shoulder, a little too excited, maybe more than her sister even.

Anvi turns to face her, an annoyed expression on her face as she asks, “What?” Idhika looks in a specific direction, muttering to Anvi, “There's your prince charming.” Anvi turns her head rapidly towards the direction Idhika was looking at, and indeed Taehyung's standing there all in his glory, talking to a royal.

Anvi's heart leaps into her chest and she tries not to squeal there. She mutters, still staring at him, “Why is he not looking at me?” idhika shakes her head, a teasing smile on her lips, “You're too impatient.” Anvi smirks suddenly, teasing her back, “You wouldn't understand, because you have no one to get excited over, right?”

Idhika looks at Anvi blankly, lightly hitting her on shoulder, “Don't be like that. I'm still young.” Anvi rolls her eyes, “You're not that young, idhi.”

Idhika whines a little and mutters, “Stop it, di. Just focus on your prince charming now. We'll think about me later.” Anvi laughs, turning her attention back to Taehyung. Just then, Taehyung’s eyes scan the whole hall, suddenly locking with Anvi's. His blank eyes suddenly shine, adoration swimming in those deep ocean eyes when they land on the love of his life.

He halts in the middle of the conversation, his eyes glued to Anvi. A small, loving smile tugs at the corner of his lips and he nods at Anvi. He composes himself, turning his attention back to the man beside him before resuming the conversation. Even though he's conversing with the man beside him, he's unable to focus on it. All he can think of is now Anvi, his mind is only on her. At this point his heart is beating so fast that he's afraid it'll come out.

Throughout the whole dinner, they exchange glances and smiles secretly as they eat their meals. After the dinner is over, all the nobles move to the ballroom.

As Anvi and Idhika walk behind their parents, following them to the ballroom, Anvi feels a gentle tug on her wrist. She looks in the direction with a frown, her eyes widening slightly when she sees it's Taehyung. With a smile, Taehyung takes her away from there. Idhika raises her eyebrow at the scene she just witnessed, nodding her head at herself playfully as she follows her parents.

Anvi gasps as Taehyung takes her to his chamber, closing the door behind them. She whispers, “What are you doing? What if someone sees–” Taehyung cuts herself off, pressing his slender finger on her lips, pressing her against the wall.

“Shh, you talk too much, princess. This is the first time you see me after almost a year and this is the first thing you say to me? This is not right.” Taehyung whispers, his voice deep. Anvi breathes out, her cheeks heating up slightly at how close they're.

She swats his hand away gently, looking up at him, muttering softly, “Stop being so dramatic. Also Idhika knows about us now. She barged into my chamber when I was about to read your letter.”

Taehyung raises an eyebrow in amusement, letting out a chuckle to which Anvi narrows her eyes at him, “What's so funny, Your majesty?”

Taehyung shakes his head, a small smile still on his face, “Nothing, just imagining her reaction, sweetheart.” Anvi sighs, shaking her head, “She was so surprised. She's still talking about it and teasing me all the time.”

Taehyung laughs, a deep and melodious sound which melts Anvi as she stares up at him. Her hand slowly moves up to rest on his chest, feeling his heartbeat as she murmurs, “You seem to be in a really good mood. Did anything happen?”

Taehyung looks down at her, his finger tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as he says softly, “Yeah, I'm in a good mood because you came. I missed you so much.”

Anvi smiles, her fingers gently running up to caress his jaw, eyes locked with his, “I missed you so much too. I was so excited to see you.”

Taehyung chuckles, playing with a strand of her hair with his fingers, “Me too, couldn't wait to see you. You look so gorgeous tonight by the way.”

Anvi smirks, pulling him a bit closer, whispering softly, “You don't look too bad yourself, Your majesty.” Taehyung smirks too, his free hand wrapping around her waist to pull her closer, if that's even possible. He looks down at her, his thumb running over her cheek, “Expected a better compliment than that, but alright, that will work too.”

Anvi scoffs, her hands resting on his chest, “As if your compliment was so good.” Taehyung chuckles at her remark, musing softly, “You're the most beautiful woman in my eyes and you know that, sweetheart, don't you? The most beautiful woman I've ever laid my eyes on.”

Anvi rolls her eyes but she can't help but smile, “Alright, don't need to compliment me anymore.” Taehyung laughs again, tilting her chin up slightly as he leans in.

Anvi's breath hitches as he leans in, brushing his lips with her. Her eyes fall shut, fingers tightening on his royal coat when he presses his lips to her. The kiss is slow and deep, filled with love and longing as he pours his everything into the kiss.

Anvi kisses him back just as deeply, moving her lips against his slowly, her heart beating so loudly that she's afraid he can hear. He gently cups her cheek, pressing her more against the wall, tilting her head back, kissing her passionately.

Finally after what feels like an eternity, they break the kiss, softly panting against each other's mouths. He presses his forehead against her, muttering, his voice warm, “I love you so much, Anvi.”

Anvi's heart flutters in her chest, her eyes locking with his. She leans in, pressing a soft peck on his lips before whispering, “I love you so much too, Taehyung.”

As they're back to the ballroom, they can't take eyes off each other, secretly smiling at each other.

Anvi sits with her family as a few couples dance, watching them while bearing her sister's constant teasing and remarks on how her lips look a bit swollen and whatsoever. She sighs, massaging her temple and side-eyeing Idhika, “Mother and father will hear you. Keep it low.”

Idhika giggles, focusing on the dance instead. Anvi sits absentmindedly, playing with the fabric of her gown when she sees a hand extending towards and a familiar voice respectfully calling out to her, she looks up, gaping at Taehyung before her.

He smiles, his hand still extended, the other behind him as he slightly bends down and says, “May I have this dance, princess Anvi?”

Anvi looks at him in bewilderment before accepting his hand, getting up, letting him pull her to the dance floor.

His hands are on her, one on her waist and the other intertwined with her, guiding her to dance as she rests her free hand on his shoulder, moving along to the music’s beats.

Both of them have a ghost of a smile on their lips as they dance before Anvi says teasingly, “You finally got the courage to ask me for a dance in front of my parents, hm?”

Taehyung chuckles slightly, their bodies moving, “Yeah, surprisingly, I did.” Anvi chuckles as well, “Took you pretty long.”

Taehyung smiles sheepishly, “I'm a bit scared of them, you know?” Anvi rolls her eyes, “Sure, you're.” Taehyung smiles again at her eye roll, “I'm serious.”

Meanwhile, Idhika sits with her parents, watching her sister have fun, smiling softly. She notices her parents smiling too as they see their daughter dance with Taehyung, nodding at each other.

Idhika looks at the servant when he comes forward to offer drinks, she smiles at him and takes a glass of lemonade, thanking him. Her parents do the same, before the servant walks away, offering drinks to all the guests, some accept while some refuse. Suddenly, the beautiful moment is broken by glasses shattering, followed by a loud, masculine yell which startles everyone. Everyone halts on their movement, all the heads turning to the source of the sound.

Jungkook, the elder prince yells at the servant, his eyes dark with anger, “What are you doing!? Can't you see someone’s coming!? All of you're useless!” The servant just hangs his head low, not daring to speak a word even though he's not at fault. Unfortunately, Jungkook’s the one who bumped into him, not the other way around.

King Min-gyeol stands from his chair, sharply glaring at his elder son, his voice firm and stoic as he says, “Jungkook, behave. So many nobles are here, you're disrespecting us.”

Jungkook pays no attention, fuming at the servant as he still stands with his head hung low, “What!? Why are you still standing huh? Go and clean the–” Idhika cuts him off, her voice sharp as she says, “Why are you behaving with him that way? Mistakes happen, and humans do that. He's a human, so are you. What about the time when you make a mistake? No one behaves with you like that, do they? Just because you're a prince, doesn't mean you can behave with someone like that.”

Idhika's parents look at each other and her mother tries to stop her, whispering, “Idhika, don't talk here like that. They'll handle it. Be quiet.”

Idhika doesn't respond, her gaze pinned to Jungkook. She wouldn't let anyone be disrespected, after all her mother taught her to not disrespect anyone or let that happen regardless of their status when she was young. Jungkook’s gaze snaps to her, his eyes narrowing at her statement. He walks to her, stopping right before her as he says lowly, “What did you say? Who are you huh? Who are you to–”

This time Taehyung steps in, gripping Jungkook’s shoulder lightly. He looks at Jungkook, his gaze unwavering as Jungkook glares at him, though there's a hint of warning in his gaze as he says to Jungkook, “This is enough, Jungkook. You're creating a scene here and disrespecting all of us. This is not what we were taught when we were young. We weren't taught to disrespect anyone. Nothenless, let's end it here. The mess will be cleaned, you don't have to worry about that.”

Jungkook throws a glare at Taehyung, shrugging his hand away from his shoulder before walking out of the ballroom.

Destined Through Centuries ⇌ KTH & JJK two

★ synopsis :: They say, life isn't a fairytale and it's the truth. When fate brings the four souls close to their soulmates, they only want to be happy till the end. But is it in their fate to be happy till the end? Will it be a happy ending for them?

★ pairings :: jungkook x idhika (fem!reader) & taehyung x anvi (fem!reader)

★ genre :: historical au, modern au, s2l, f2l, non-idol au, fluff and angst.

★ rating :: 18+

★ warnings :: none

★ note :: took me some time to finish writing this as I was busy with my studies, but I hope you'd like this. thank you for reading ! feedback is always appreciated. <3

1825, Chandralaya Kingdom

The sunlight falls on her face, making her face glow. Her eyes flutter slightly as she stirs awake. Anvi sits up on the bed, squinting her eyes to adjust to the sunlight filtering through the curtains and entering her chamber. She yawns quietly, getting up from the bed before walking to the huge window in her chamber. She pulls open the curtains, taking in the view of her kingdom from the window. She stretches her limbs, humming to herself, seemingly in a pleasant mood.

A gentle knock on the door of her chamber catches her attention. The maids enter the chamber after getting permission from the young princess to get her dressed up for the day.

Anvi and Idhika walk to the throne room, when Idhika speaks up, “An envoy from the Syndril Kingdom has come to invite us for the king's birthday.”

Anvi raises her eyebrow, feeling her heart leap into her chest as she asks, trying to mask her excitement, “Really? Is he still here?”

Idhika hums, completely oblivious to her sister's excitement, “Yeah, I believe so.” Anvi glances at Idhika before speaking, “Idhi, what do you think about the king Min-gyeol?”

Idhika frowns hearing that and looks at Anvi, tilting her head as she asks, “What do you mean? Nothing, I guess?”

Anvi sighs, flashing a polite smile to one of the maids as they pass by her, “I mean, don't you think he acts weirdly? He takes too much pride in himself as well.”

Idhika blinks, “Weirdly? No, I don't think so. And he's a well known king after all, nothing new to take pride in him. Isn't it?”

Anvi shakes her head, side-eyeing her sister, “You're just too nonchalant about everything around you. And just because he's a king, he's too proud of himself? That's what I don't like. He also never really smiles, if you haven't really noticed. You know, I also heard the queen is his second wife.”

Idhika’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise upon hearing it, she turns her head to look at Anvi, “Really?” Idhika nods to herself and says, “King Min-gyeol is always so stoic and stiff, isn't he?”

Anvi hums, fiddling with the sleeve of her blouse, “Yeah, he's. He's not very friendly. I've noticed the queen appears very nervous when she's beside him.”

Idhika nods, her eyes raking over the various pictures of their ancestors on the walls of the hallway as they walk to the throne room, “Yeah, I've noticed that too. I think it's because of the way the king carries himself. Everyone seems to be very cautious around him. But how do you know that the queen is his second wife?”

Anvi gulps, nervously saying, hoping Idhika wouldn't catch her nervousness, “I just heard it… you know?”

Idhika nods in acknowledgement, not noticing Anvi's nervousness as they reach the throne room, stepping inside.

The royal councils bowed to the young princesses as soon as they entered and took their seats on their respective thrones right beside their father, their mother seated on her throne at the left side of the king.

Anvi’s eyes land on the envoy and she's momentarily startled when she notices his eyes indicating something. And she knows what it's. It's not the first time Taehyung has sent a letter to her after all. Anvi nods at the envoy secretly, silently letting him know to meet her at the back of their royal garden.

Anvi looks around, tip-toeing to the back of their royal garden quietly, her fingers pulling up her lehenga’s bottom slightly so as to not trip over anything. She sighs in relief when she sees the envoy is standing at a corner, waiting for her.

She walks to the envoy, still looking around to make sure there's no one around them. She nods and smiles as the envoy bows to her and hands the letter to her with utmost respect when she approaches him. She holds the letter, running her thumb over the envelope lovingly before looking at the man, “Thank you so much. You should go now, if anyone sees you, there will be trouble.”

The envoy nods, a small smile on his lips as he bows down to her respectfully, “Yes, I'll take my leave now.”

Anvi nods, watching the man leave before looking down at the letter in her hand. She hides the letter by adjusting her dupatta.

1825, Syndril Kingdom

Jungkook steps down off of his horse, gently rubbing his head when his horse leans closer to get some love. He lets his horse roam around the forest as he walks to the riverside. He lets out a deep sigh, kicking a pebble into the water, watching it drown in the water. He slowly sits down by the riverside, adjusting his royal coat. He closes his eyes, resting his elbows on his knees. His eyes flutter open and he takes in the surroundings, feeling better than before.

Soon enough, his peaceful moment is broken when he hears the heavy footsteps of another horse, as it stops right behind him. Jungkook looks behind and his expression quickly changes when he sees Taehyung as he jumps from his own horse, smiling softly as it nuzzles to him. Taehyung lets the horse stay there after petting it before making his way to Jungkook. Jungkook grunts, annoyed at the fact that his peaceful moment was disturbed by his dear brother. He looks away, facing another way when Taehyung sits beside him.

Jungkook scoffs, still not looking at Taehyung as he asks, “What are you doing here? You can't just let me have some peaceful moments, will you?”

Taehyung ignores his words, plucking out a strand of grass as he instead asks, “I was going hunting. Thought I should ask you when I saw you sitting here. Wanna go with me?”

Jungkook doesn't reply, blankly staring at the river. Taehyung looks at Jungkook, a teasing smile on his lips as he asks, “What? Scared that I'll do–” he's cut off when Jungkook speaks, his voice low, “Why do you keep trying to get closer to me even though I push you away?”

Taehyung silently looks at him for some moments before uttering softly, “Because you're my brother? I know you don't like me and Yi-seul, but both of us love you. You're our older brother. We share the same blood, don't we? You can trust us, you know? We're not as bad as you think, so don't always push us away.”

Jungkook blinks, vulnerability flashing in his eyes as he heaves a deep breath, taking some time to answer, “I don't know. It's so hard to trust people around me.”

Taehyung nods, his eyes following a bird as it sits on a branch of a tree, “I know. Take as much time as you need. No one's rushing you. We'll still be here.”

Jungkook sighs again, running his hand through his hair, when Taehyung reaches out and squeezes his shoulder, his expression turning to teasing again as he asks, “So, let's go hunting?”

Jungkook looks at Taehyung, cracking a little smirk playfully, a sight so rare, “Yeah, let's go.”

1825, Chandralaya Kingdom

She unlocks the door of her chamber especially made for her to drown herself into artworks, stepping inside. She closes the door behind her forgetting to close it as her free hand holds the envelope to her chest, excited to read it.

Anvi strides towards her desk and quickly lights up the candles, before settling down to read the letter. As she opens the envelope carefully, a wide smile dancing on her lips. She pulls out the letter, about to read it when the door of her chamber opens, revealing Idhika who steps inside, stopping midway at her sentence when she sees Anvi holding a letter, “Didi, aren't you–”

Anvi's heart drops and she quickly tries to hide the envelope, but alas, she's too late because Idhika has already hurried to her side, getting a hold of the letter already as she snatches it away.

“A letter? Who wrote it– what? Kim Taehyung?” Idhika's eyes widen when she sees the name as she goes through the letter. She gapes at the letter, not believing her eyes. She looks at Anvi in surprise and disbelief, her voice barely above a whisper, “Didi? A letter from Kim Taehyung? Am I seeing it correctly?”

Anvi bites her lip, shutting her eyes tightly, not being able to believe she got caught even after being so careful. Meanwhile, Idhika reads the letter, her eyes scanning over each letter Taehyung lovingly wrote to his beloved woman. Idhika gasps, shaking her head, “Oh my! I can't believe this. You two love each other? How come I never knew? Does anybody know?”

Anvi sighs in defeat, shaking her head as a no, mumbling, “No, you're the first one to know. Why did you have to come right at this moment?”

Idhika scoffs, pushing at her elder sister's shoulder, “Shut up. Firstly you kept this big thing hidden from me and now you're telling me this? Ah I still can't believe it. But anyways, I'm actually happy for you. How long has it been since you two started this?”

Anvi mumbles, snatching away the letter from Idhika making her giggle, “A few years. We saw each other for the first time when he came to our kingdom to visit it years ago for the first time as well. Since then… we have been talking, you know? He's the one who sends the letters most of the time.”

Idhika squeals, clapping her hands, “Oh my god! I'm so happy for you.” Anvi glares at her, “Stop squealing and clapping, someone will hear and thank you.” Idhika grins ear to ear, on cloud nine for her sister.

Destined Through Centuries ⇌ KTH & JJK one

★ synopsis :: They say, life isn't a fairytale and it's the truth. When fate brings the four souls close to their soulmates, they only want to be happy till the end. But is it in their fate to be happy till the end? Will it be a happy ending for them?

★ pairings :: jungkook x idhika (fem!reader) & taehyung x anvi (fem!reader)

★ genre :: historical au, modern au, s2l, f2l, non-idol au, fluff and angst.

★ rating :: 18+

★ warnings :: brief mentions of abuse

★ note :: hello ! this is my first time writing a fic, on a historical au on top of that, also english isn't my first language, so if there are any mistakes feel free to correct me. hopefully you won't have to wait too long for the chapters because I'll be working on it regularly. I really hope you all will love this story. <3

The painful cries of a woman and the snap of a leather material filled the otherwise quiet, dimly lit room. The woman, who helplessly layed on the floor with bruises all over her body, whimpered in pain, shaking her head weakly. A tall, masculine figure circled her body, the heavy footsteps echoing in the room suddenly. Shaky breaths left her bruised lips, her body trembling as she waited for another painful hit, fearfully. And suddenly, another hit landed on her, the sharp impact of the leather on her body causing her to scream. She quickly covered her mouth, tears sliding down her eyes, no, she can't let her son hear it. Hits after hits landed on her body thereafter, and she took all of it, trying to keep her voice low, unaware a small, petite body trembled and cried hearing all this behind the closed door.

1825, Syndril Kingdom

A small, serene smile decorates her plumpy lips as she waters the plants in their royal garden. She hums softly to a tune, her delicate fingers brushing against the beautiful flowers. She grins when a pretty butterfly comes and sits on one of the flowers, unaware of a pair of dark eyes watching her closely.

His hand rests on the railings of the balcony of the palace on either side of his body, his dark eyes throwing daggers at the female figure roaming around in the garden. He scoffs, crossing his arms above his chest. He looks away, annoyed at the sight of his sister freely roaming around in the garden. He watches as his sister freezes in her place upon seeing him. She blinks as he glares at her one last time and walks away from there.

Jungkook walks back into the palace grumpily, as usual when his eyes meet his brother, Taehyung's, who stops on his track seeing his elder brother. Jungkook rolls his eyes before walking to his chamber, leaving behind taehyung who sighs softly before going to his father's office.

“You called me, father?” The king looks up from the various papers spread on his desk to his son when he hears his voice. He offers his son a small smile and nods his head, leaning back on his chair, “Yes, come in.”

The king's eyes follow his son's every move as he settles on the chair before him. He leans forward, intertwining his fingers and resting his hands on the wooden table before uttering, “As you know, Taehyung, that my birthday is approaching, have you thought anything about the banquet we organize every year?”

Chandralaya kingdom

The young princess quietly nods her head as the guards bow to her before gently pushing open the door of her elder sister’s chamber. The door shuts behind her and she approaches her sister, catching her attention who's lost reading a book, as usual. The elder princess closes the book, quirking her eyebrow at her younger sister when she shakes her head. She places the book aside, getting up from the bed, “Why are you looking at me that way, Idhika?”

Idhika sighs, nodding at the book on the bed as she asks her sister, “How do you always have the energy to read books? Aren't they boring?”

Anvi, the elder princess looks at her younger princess as if she's grown horns on her head, “Boring? Have you ever tried reading books that you're saying they're boring? Anyways, why are you here?”

Idhika rolls her eyes, sitting down on the bed. She twirls a strand of hair around her finger, looking up at Anvi as she walks to the bookshelf she has in her room to place the book in its place. Idhika hums, “Nothing, just came here to see you. Didi, weren't you painting something for over a month? Is it done?”

Anvi turns to Idhika, shrugging nonchalantly, “It's not done yet. I'm still working on it.” Idhika hums again, nodding her head, “What are you painting by the way?” Anvi looks at her for some time when Idhika questions her, her cheeks flushing slightly before she shakes her head, “Nothing special. The regular ones I paint.”

Idhika looks at her suspiciously when her cheeks flush but doesn't question it. She gets up, walking to the heavy door of her sister's chamber, looking back at her to see her lost in her world. She sighs, “Didi, let's go out to the garden.” Anvi snaps out of her dream world, quickly looking at her younger sister. She nods, following her.

As they walk to the garden, Idhika notices how Anvi seems to be lost in thought and blushing sometimes. Idhika narrows her eyes, thinking to herself, ‘She doesn't blush like that. What's wrong with her?’

As they sit on the wooden bench she questions Anvi, “Why do you keep blushing nowadays? As far as I have seen you, you don't get shy easily. What's wrong with you nowadays?”

Anvi hesitates hearing that, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and flashing her sister a nervous smile, “Just because…”

Idhika narrows her eyes at Anvi and utters, “You're acting suspicious these days. But anyways, you remember that the birthday of King Min-gyeol is approaching? You know, I have already selected a gown I'd wear. What are you gonna wear?”

Anvi breathes a sigh of relief when she changes the topic before saying, “I haven't chosen anything yet. We still haven't gotten the invitation, so there's no hurry. You're way too excited for the birthday.”

Syndril Kingdom

Taehyung nods, his voice smooth and deep as he speaks, “Yes, father, I've thought about it. It's the same as every year. Like every year, The same Kings, Princes and Princesses from the same countries will be invited this year as well. I'll have the envoy send out the invitations from tomorrow.”

The king hums, satisfied and proud with his son's answer. He smiles at Taehyung, nodding, “Very well, son. This was expected from you. You're proving each day how much you deserve the throne of this kingdom. I'm so proud of you. Your coronation is approaching as well, right?”

Taehyung nods, his expression neutral, smoothly speaking to his father, “Yes, father. It's a few days after your birthday.”

Min-gyeol smiles, “You seem well prepared for it. It's very good to see you taking after me. You may go now, Taehyung.”

An unknown emotion passes through Taehyung's eyes at his father's words but it disappears as soon as it appears. He nods, his face void of any emotion before leaving his father's office. As Taehyung walks across the hallway, his attention is suddenly diverted towards Jungkook who's shouting at a maid. Taehyung sighs deeply, clearly tired of his brother's regular tantrums and what not. He walks to them, his voice cold as he asks Jungkook, “Jungkook, why are you shouting at Sae-rin?”

The said maid looks somewhat relieved after seeing the soon-to-be king of this kingdom, her hands shaking slightly, face showing how panicked she's. Jungkook looks at Taehyung, glaring at him, clearly not ready to give an answer. Taehyung waits, his patience wearing thin at his brother's childish behaviour. He speaks, his voice authoritative, “I asked you a question, Jungkook, why were you shouting at Sae-rin? Did you not hear me?”

Jungkook scoffs, finally answering through gritted teeth, “I asked her to bring me tea long ago and I still haven't gotten it. Why does it take so long for her to do a simple task like that?”

Taehyung looks at Sae-rin, her head hanging low in apology. He sighs, his voice cold as he speaks to Jungkook, “Unlike you, she has so much work to take care of. Just because you're a prince, doesn't mean you can order them around and treat them like that. Learn how to respect others first.”

Jungkook grits his teeth, sharply glaring at Taehyung, uttering angrily, “Just because you're going to get the throne doesn't mean you get to behave with me this way.”

Taehyung doesn't reply nor looks at him. He simply nods at Sae-rin, his expression neutral and arms crossed on his back, giving her the permission to leave. She quickly leaves after muttering an apology, leaving the two brothers behind.

Jungkook scoffs angrily, about to stomp his way to his chamber when Yi-seul, their sister and the princess of this kingdom walks into the hallway cheerfully, a wide smile stretched around her lips as she approaches them, a flower basket in her hand. Her long, black hair bounces, a flower carefully tucked in near her ear.

She grins, stopping right before Taehyung. She reaches into her basket, presenting a peony to him, softly saying, “Here, it's for you.” Taehyung smiles gently at the kind gesture of his sister, receiving it from her, petting her head, making her giggle. “Thank you, Yi-seul.” The girl nods, smiling widely before she turns to Jungkook, suddenly growing nervous. She hesitantly takes out another peony from the basket and forwards it to him, fully expecting he's not gonna take it.

Jungkook looks at the flower and then at her before practically snatching the flower from her, side-eyeing her and mumbling in annoyance, “What's the need of doing these childish things?”

Taehyung chuckles lightly, his voice slightly teasing as he says, “She's actually a child though.” Jungkook scoffs, mumbling to himself as he walks to his chamber, “Whatever.”

The moonlight seeps into the room, the delicate curtains swaying slightly because of the breeze. The chamber is quiet except for the soft rustling of the papers as the man sits just right beside the window, the lamp dimly lit over the table. His dainty fingers, adorned with various rings hold the pen, writing over the paper. Each stroke of his pen is filled with affection for the woman who owns his heart. There's a small, gentle smile on the corner of his lips as he writes a letter to his beloved woman after a long time, his eyes shining with intense love. He puts down the pen on the table, after giving a final stroke of the pen, leaning back on the chair. He lets out a soft sigh, his eyes looking out for the night sky from the window. He chuckles softly to himself, shaking his head when he finds himself being so much in love with that woman, he whispers, “God, the things you do to me, princess…”

It's early in the morning, the birds are chirping in the garden when Taehyung hands the envoy all the invitation letters, nodding at them, “Make sure to deliver them at the right places. And…” He trails off, looking down at another letter, still in his hand before forwarding it to the envoy, “Deliver this letter to Princess Anvi… make sure to do it secretly.”

The envoy nods politely, receiving all the letters from the prince, “Yes, your majesty.”

Taehyung nods, watching the envoy as he takes his leave. He walks to the garden, taking in the fresh air, the sun blazing brightly over him. He smiles, looking at the beautiful flowers, whispering to himself, “Can't wait to meet you on my father's birthday, Anvi.”

Chandralaya Kingdom

She hums, giving the final stroke of her paintbrush on the canvas. She puts the brush away, leaning back to admire the painting. She smiles widely, speaking to herself proudly, “Anvi, you did it finally. The painting is completed.”

Her eyes take in all the details of the painting she carefully painted, sighing softly as the painted man’s deep, ocean eyes stare back at Anvi. She pats her own shoulder, nodding her head and smiling proudly, “I did a good job. This Taehyung definitely looks like the real Taehyung.”

Anvi pouts then, “But I wish I could show this to you, though. I also have to keep this hidden. I can't let anyone see this.”

She stands up from the stool, starting to organize everything. She carefully washes the paintbrushes, palette and the other essential stuff. She places them in their respective places and cleans all the mess. After cleaning, she moves the easel to the corner of the room, facing it away from the door. She looks around the room after finishing her work, checking everything. She exists the chamber then, locking the heavy door from outside before walking away.

i hope this is a jikook/taekook author hahaha

There are two opposing ships in my fandom and I write for both of them. I have two separate AO3 accounts so people don't know it is me writing for both ships.

.

NIN's NUANCES 🍪 FIC : BACK TO YOU

spoilers ahead ! read here before scrolling further !

“Says the one who’s owning that little wooden chair with his name on it like a throne.” — OC

“Too bad, I do own my name. My own name. It’s my only throne.” — Jungkook

note : here, i wanted to bring in an imagery of how Jungkook build his life set on a stone of pure passion, while he sort of hints at how OC is solely living based off of the name her family has upheld since generations.

____

Forget the back and forth and fall face first into the waters from a height to test your limits, when all you loved and have ever experienced was a cozy, elevating and classy cold plunge. — OC's inner monologue

note: i tried to bring in her conflicting feelings about the encounter with Jungkook and the normal (sort of monotonous) experiences she's used to.

____

the strawberry shortcake

note: it's a kind of inner joke (?) not a joke cuz poor kook gets offended on how she had picked on that ONE part of their earlier conversation and how she understood his weakness aka SEOM (and bandmates) and played accordingly. i wanted to portray her selfishness there.

but, he still finds a way to use it on her.

and that, is Jungkook here. he knows how to bring a situation to his own advantage and stand up for himself.

____

“You played it for me, Jungkook.”

“What?”

“Thank you.”

note: as mentioned, Jungkook is just PURELY absolutely proud of his band, UNTIL he understands that OC knows about the deal with her dad, after which he just succumbs basically lmao.

however, i wanted to highlight that's not the ONLY reason he agreed.

he has never been thanked. it was always relentless work, and as much as it's a simple word, i personally think it goes a long way for someone who has worked AS hard as him in this story.

____

the one month deal

js a mask for these idiots who are down bad.

____

the man-bun

lemme js say, i found it hot. periodt.

apart from that, i wanted to show how she kind of domesticated (?) the whole situation (accidentally) which kinda made his soft strings snap (which he regrets as quickly too.)

Jungkook plops down on the couch, hands slowly untying the man bun that knotted his hair tightly, ruffling the now free curls, raking his palms slowly through them.

this is where Jungkook realises he mistook her actions.

____

end note : ik most of these things are quite obvious and could be picked up, but i was bored and you can also consider this as my favorite parts of back to you hehehe

if there's anything else you'd like to ask feel free to do so, or comment ! mwah

<3

BACK TO YOU ⋆ 전정국

ıllı . . . . . TWIRL ME TWICE — i'll treat you like a holiday and don't say you're over me baby, it's too late ⨾༊

brief, you always seem to go back to him, what about now? starring, drummer!jk x rich f!reader tags/warnings, smut. mdni. dry humping, dirty talk, cursing, oral (m) receiving, slight degradation(?) not pronounced, oc is an entitled rich girl, and jungkook falls for her antics basically, but don't get it wrong— he craves it. usage of drums during intimate moments (he's a drummer and he's jungkook so cut me some slack HAHHA) nicknames, pov shifts (clearly mentioned), emotional push and pull, kind of slow burn, characters are messy in their own ways but everything ties together— if something is unclear, send me an ask/comment !, angst (sorry babies). word count, 6.7k love diaries music rec, "if you lie down with me" — lana del ray, "heartbreak warfare" — john mayer, the party & the after party — the weeknd note, this started as an idea from js a simple thought of mine, can't spoil rn cuz what's the fun in that,, loved writing this because i accidentally js spewed all my need for a slow burn BUT not so slow (iykyk) in here. i edited this so many times its not even funny how i hyperfixated. did i mention how obsessed i am with drummer!jk? yeah that's it.

────୨ৎ────

“1,2,3.. stop!” the man, in his mid-twenties and ginger hair, which is the only color he stuck to for about 4 months straight now, practically yells into his mic.

“Jungkook you actually have to lock in, mate. This is not doing you any good, y’know.”

“You can clearly see I’m fucking trying, Jimin. I told you I needed to step out like right now, we’ve been at this for hours.” 

Jeon Jungkook. Lead drummer, easily a handsome lad who could be mistaken for a very successful celebrity. He’s got that aura, the charm to waddle into the hearts of numerous girls and guys alike, just like he does at those tiny desk concerts— the original miniature set-ups with a lot of sweaty bodies and headbanging. 

The raw stuff. Pure music. Flatlining passion.

“ ‘kay just go take a drag or something, but remember, return back by 7. Or I’m actually going to go hunt for someone else with no hard feelings.” Jimin passes on a complacent grin to which Jungkook rolls his eyes, he knows the latter cannot evade the decade long friendship they shared, nonetheless.

Jungkook walks over to the wooden door of the cramped studio where the duo was practicing, and since this very day consisted of rumbled musings and adjusting tones of the new release because the other members of “Seom” haven’t shown up and Jimin could only get hold of his dear brother to pour sweat into the new album along with him.

“Seom”— island in Korean, grounded the boys to their Southern roots, and tied them to the strings of reverberating music, just like how water expands and ripples around an island. It was mostly Jimin’s idea, to which Jungkook agreed immediately as he wanted their essence to be a part of this whole game. 

Ping.

Classic notification beep. The message is far from the “class”, however.

[shortcake] 5.57pm fuck you.

Oh he wishes. Start of the day so hellish all he wanted to do was be balls deep inside you. 

He shifts, leaning against the tattered door frame, locking his phone, shutting out the cascade of profanities filling up in your chat. The blob of silence that followed seemed to dissolve into thin air as a puff of smoke hindered his obscure view of people bustling about through the narrow alley.

Utter contrast to where he met you for the first time.

Back to : 6 months ago.

Jungkook wisely controlled the awe-filled sounds that threatened to leave his mouth, while Jimin and Hyunjin on the other hand, straight up wow-ed at the dazzle of golden chandeliers, polite service of umpteen number of waiters and waitresses catering to every other person, cold air that refreshed the scorching heat outside this magnificent yacht as soon as their lot entered the foyer.

“We’re looking for Conference Room 3” Jungkook referred to his emails before making a request at the reception, tapping his fingers on the crafted marble desk and adjusting the instruments on his shoulders.

In the meantime he luckily notices Hyunjin slide to the left, initiating loose talk with the other receptionist, thus pulling him by the collar to the latter’s unpleasant surprise.

“I was just shootin a shot, okay?” His lack of understanding was not the mood, especially for today.

They must remain composed and professional until the band’s first official performance for a crowd with more than a 100 people came to a successful end.

There was barely time for aimless flirting and fun. This was the foremost opportunity to grab a place and set the stone for Seom.

Hundred, however, is more than a few for a birthday party. But what more could be expected from a full-fledged family of chaebols. 

“We don’t have much time, but Kook, you need to brush up a few beats before the stage. I’ll go ahead with Hyun to get the set done by then.” Jimin unpacked his guitar set and signaled Hyunjin to follow him outside to the stage area.

Finally done setting up the drums and arranging the kit, Jungkook tests it for a few beats, before flipping through the music book for a brief second to make final touches.

Click.

The door unlocks and closes, assuming it’s Jimin and Hyunjin, he continues to maneuver the stick through the booming plates of the drum.

“Y’all back already? They set up the stage for us too or did something fancy?” He passes a casual joke, unbeknownst of the fact that you were on the receiving end.

“That was quite a faulty pun, Jungkook Jeon?”

You read off of the rear of his chair that had his name on it for identification.

Perched on a personalized chair paired with such a comment rolling out so smartly didn’t sound as cute to you.

His head whipped and almost cracked, turning around at the words that flowed so elegantly, as opposed to what he was expecting.

Hands folded against your chest, slightly bunching up the fabric of the baby pink satin body-con hugging your well-built figure, doing a bad job at leaving much to one’s imagination, especially with the thin straps as sleeves.

Composed. Professional. He reminded himself.

Having seen you during the meeting where Seom was selected to set sail and perform at your birthday bash, he deemed you as a handful when you chanted numerous details into your dad’s ears and when you disagreed with most of the proposals they had for the final track list. As mentioned, fancy was the alternate last name for the Choi family.

He could deal a handful.

Or so he thought.

The damn look in your eyes. It propelled him forward, leaving the wooden seat behind, walking towards you ever so slowly but steadily. 

“Careful, pink princess. Your dress boutta get messed up, don’t want those personal butlers to curse at you.” 

The corners of your lips twitch ever so testingly. As if a single smile could give it all away.

“Were you playing ‘Heartbreak Warfare’? Thought we finalized the track list accordingly.” 

You briefly look around the dingy room with dim lights and concrete walls, unpainted— fit to be a green room, he watches you closely.

Fairly enough, it was an embarrassing accident you wouldn’t admit. The yacht was genuinely too sophisticated and you lost your way to the ladies’ room.

Coincidentally, you hear your favourite song being played live on the drums from a nearby room titled “Staff Only.” No one could stop you from entering anywhere around on the yacht your dad booked for the big day. 21st birthday bash. And you knew you had everyone wrapped around a pinky.

With him, though? You don’t know.

Don’t know why a look at his face, seconds ago screamed “Not today.” 

His smirk yelling at your senses to keep your power to yourself.

And his unfiltered comment at the beginning? Perfect starter. 

You, nonetheless, took pride in your ability to bring what you craved for, at your fucking feet. Only, this one would take a lot more solo effort.

Consider it done because— goddamn was he a man. Sleeveless tank-top hugging his miniature waist ever so tightly, projecting whatever toned muscle that hid beneath, tattoos twirling around his left arm.

“Lined up our songs for princess’ birthday while she shares pretty strawberry cake with her friends.”

He leans on the backrest of the chair, with his name printed across a piece of white paper, tainting your eyes with dripping taunt.

“Can’t wait to hear it.” You spit, but surely you wanted to explore their band and music. 

“Would you give me some cake too, huh?” He slips the mockery in every fucking word with practiced ease, just like how he handles those drums.

“That doesn’t explain you playing ‘Heartbreak Warfare’.” You clawed at the previous question, ignoring the sly ask, genuinely curious as to why he chose that particular song minutes before an actual performance.

“Why, favorite?” He muses, flipping the book to a certain page yet again, positioning himself in front of the instrument.

“None of your business. Can you play it again?” Latter part of the sentence ever so feebly and hesitantly left your mouth as if it was tightly wound against your vocal chords, barely finding strength to be pushed out as a request. 

A wish. One that you don’t know— for the first time— would be granted. Having everything served on a platter from Day 1, this is a new deal for you. The doubt, the anticipation felt confusing to say the least. 

Seeing him steer through the papers and almost giving in to what you said, it seemed like a win.

Until it wasn’t.

“Afraid not, it’s my cue to be back on stage. That was my warmup song and I’m done.”

He sits forward, actions biting back on his words, as he looks least interested in hurrying to “be back on stage.”

“You’re literally performing for my party. It’s my crowd out there and they’d be forgiving if a drummer’s late.” Diving head first into this pointless banter was never on your agenda for today.

“Feeling entitled much?” He seemed calm, fidgeting around to pack up necessities.

“Says the one who’s owning that little wooden chair with his name on it like a throne.”

You were done. All restraints broke, a spiteful remark was nothing. None. Nada.

To your utter disbelief, it actually did nothing to him.

Jungkook finally got up from the damned chair, moving towards you and painfully looking into your eyes before gracing your ears with his raspy, raspy voice.

“Too bad, I do own my name. My own name. It’s my only throne.”

You weren’t stupid to miss the disdain laced stress on that particular word. Like he was throwing daggers at you. 

Tongue poking behind the smooth walls of your cheek, you watch him fucking leave.

His resistance to you was instantly delicious. 

Were you crazy for wanting him to be completely into you? Forget the back and forth and fall face first into the waters from a height to test your limits, when all you loved and have ever experienced was a cozy, elevating and classy cold plunge.

___

“Yeah, wine’ll do for today. You don’t wanna get too drunk.”

You nudge at Jessi, best friend, ride or die, whatever. Having known her since private kindergarten —the ones where a couple of selected children get tutored alone unlike the actual ones— she’s been a tad bit crazy, especially with alcohol and parties, as you grew up together.

“Why, you planning to get wasted and use me as your chauffeur because you can’t get your dad’s car sent?” She deadpanned, adjusting the MiuMiu purse that clung around perfectly on her honey skin.

“Spot on.” You squint your eyes at her, ridiculing, as you walk towards the venue.

“Look at herr!” Taehyung hoots in glee as you enter through the grand doors, starting a poor rendition of “It’s your birthday” as he pulls you by the hand, into the chaos.

Taehyung was the unavoidable guest at any party. He brings life with him, even if it mostly makes you question the invite.

“Guess what flavour of cake i got for your special dayy-“

Taehyung’s words blurred into the horizon as you were consumed by certain thoughts.

Kim Taehyung was no one distinct, just another man from your dad’s friends’ family who owned a bunch of inherited businesses like most of the people present in the party today.

Except the ones on stage.

The one, among them.

His name never left your mind, unusually so, because you don’t hold on.

Don’t build connections, never chain the beads of relationships with bare hands.

It always came with something.

But him?

A puzzling, faint secret.

Jeon Jungkook.

“Stop avoiding me just because I ordered strawberry shortcake, I wanted to give the new bakery a try too, now c’mon and clink clink bitch.” Tae was already tipsy and it was-

What did he just say?

“You’ve got to be kidding me, Kim fucking Taehyung. You literally took freedom for granted.” You shoot a sharp look at his red face, snapping back from the trance, but he just pouted in response.

“My bad I let you buy the damn cake, asshole.” You watch him pay no heed to you, going back to being an utmost social butterfly.

Everyone applause. 

Birthdays were not supposed to be this humiliating.

“Lined up our songs for princess’ birthday while she shares strawberry cake with her friends.”

You recall Jungkook’s words and everything and beyond you want right now would be the ability to sink into the fucking ground.

Courtesy : Kim Taehyung because he literally made way for Jungkook’s assumptions to come to life.

He didn’t have to be so lively, y’know.

“I need another cake there, in 5 minutes.” You whisper to Jessi, but she didn’t seem to notice, eyes glued to the train of texts being exchanged with her boyfriend.

___

21 wasn’t supposed to be as humbling.

The 20 somethings were to be full of cruises through picturesque islands and a possible girls’ trip if Jessi was into it. She’d be, but you wanted it to be a bit more relentless and intriguing. 

You wanted to explore.

Maybe your wish was granted— partly— earlier than you’d please.

“Seom” as you learnt from their introduction was nothing less than a fucking wave. One to explore. To indulge in, especially the lead drummer.

Even if you’d hesitate to admit, seeing Jungkook go all out on the drums, setting a bar so high and then hitting the lows before springing back up with just the taps of two sticks and a determined mind, he looked insane. 

Sweat clinged onto his forehead, wispy stray hair falling to the sides and god the tank top.

One that didn’t go unnoticed by you during the backstage shenanigans.

The music ends with thunderous applause from the audience, and you see Jungkook reach for the mic from Jimin, clearing his throat into it before speaking.

“We really enjoyed performing here today, but there’s a special ending note I’d like to play.” He signals for the others to exit the stage, claiming it alone with undeniable presence, blasting a beat into the speakers with those damn skilled fingers. 

He was playing the background score of “Heartbreak Warfare.” 

You weren’t exactly subtle with the reactions, eyes widening as the tune grew familiar.

“He’s so fucking good at this,” Taehyung slurred from behind. “But missing only one thing.”

“— a grammy nomination.” The man looked so proud of his witticism.

His luck, you were too engrossed in how Jungkook completed the rendition with absolute perfection, doing justice to every single nuance of your favorite song.

“Do we have any of the strawberry cake left?” Your unhinged doubt in the middle of the performance— consuming the premise, and people— makes Jessi chuckle from behind.

“Weren’t you the one who made me go place an order for another one? We literally cut the chocolate cake I had to run last minute for, and this boy is damn upset.” She points at Tae, who was mindlessly chugging another shot of his alcohol, looking farthest from upset. 

“___, we’re going to the dance floor now, c’mon” Taehyung started testing the material of your dress between his sloppy fingers, trying to grab your attention like a carefree kid.

“Can you ask them to send a piece over to Seom’s green room? Meet me at the dance floor after.” Running a hand through well-set hair, you look back again— eyes catching sight of his unrelenting drive towards music that almost topples you over on those fucking louboutins— before catching up with Taehyung’s jittery steps towards the party room next door.

Jessi was cent percent sure you were on to something.

Because, one piece of cake for 3— math wasn’t tallying up right.

And you taking personal interest to have it delivered?

Weird.

__

his pov.

The trio stands around the now droopy cold, untouched piece of sweet goodness dressed in baby pink icing, as if it was about to be convicted in court.

“Whoever sent it in, they could’ve packed three more.” Jimin sulks, as if more pieces somehow equals to finding whoever this anonymous confectioner is.

“But we’re only 3 people and one’s here already, dumbass.” Hyunjin analyses the situation as though satisfying their sweet tooth is the only problem here.

“An extra piece wouldn’t hurt you right?” 

The trial about a damn piece of strawberry shortcake ceased abruptly, hanging over the edge through Jimin’s harmless remark. 

However, someone in the room seems to have attained enlightenment— precisely not so— because he was praying, hoping to whatever higher power that it wouldn’t be what he thought it was.

The conclusion was inevitable.

“I’ll be back.” Lead drummer, guides his own way to the adjacent ballroom.

It wasn’t some sort of cinematic appearance— he didn’t enter in as the prince who aimed to claim his princess.

He was a walking mess. Like a literal strained bunch of bafflement.

At your fucking audacity. 

Like you were mocking his service. His team’s hard work.

There was no way to sugarcoat it.

You were being an asshole.

And just like a rifle zeroes in on its target, Jungkook’s gaze pinpoints yours among the sea of people. He moves further, a mild hurry outlining his steps through a bunch of sweaty bodies mixed with the expensive scent, lingering on, making it easier to distinguish the crowd as ones from high-end families.

He remains aware of the surroundings— the lap of luxury sprawled out and highlighted each speck of dust around— even in the air.

Nevertheless, that was gotten rid of.

His presence of mind packs a suitcase and makes a bolt out of its abode, as soon as your eyes meet his.

As if an urgent sense of victory ziplined through, he watches you slowly bite your lip, trying to hide a smile.

Not the one that looked like a perfect crescent moon, one that radiates joy, though. Yours was synonymous to that of a fucking Cheshire Cat on a mission.

“Knew you’d come.” Your red glossy lips mouth, and he caught it amongst all.

Jungkook was furious, but he was dissolving.

It was as if an imaginary string connected the both of your bodies, the pull growing stronger by the minute.

Slow and steady, wins the race.

But his libido takes over, avoiding all the speed bumps.

And then he realized. As if it wasn’t so obvious.

He wanted you.

However, you didn’t have to know that.

___

If it was the Jungkook 30 minutes ago —who fired up from backstage to ballroom in less than 2 strides to catch hold of the fucking menace of a woman for trying to deride his performance— he would’ve laughed at the face of anyone who tried to tell him, that he was holding that very woman by the waist in the middle of a dance.

Breath.

“Your heels are about to punch a hole in my feet.” He shifts you forward so swiftly with one hand on your waist, legs finally coming alive again after 2 minutes of torturous dancing.

“Tryna hold you together, if you fall apart. I can distinguish between a good dancer and a bad one, y’know.” 

“I’m gonna leave if you keep running that mouth of yours.” He whisper-yells into your ears, above the 165 bpm party music.

His jaw twitches at the reason he’s still anchored in the same spot.

Another request. One that took flight way easier than the previous one. Your pretty mouth asked for help.

“Don’t wanna look alone in my own party. Dance?” You had asked, peeking at his anger infused red eyes 30 minutes ago, through your angel-like lashes, which had him expressing distaste, but quickly securing him behind you.

Ass pressed up against his crotch, he knew you were testing his boundaries. He knew you were careful, measured, as your hands rhythmically made its way around his neck, adhering to the beat.

His hands still around the small of your back— unsure if it was to steady you or himself.

Minx.

His hands find solace in your swaying hips, pushing you forward, trying to maintain distance.

Because this was supposed to be a nice gesture. An act of goodwill so a girl won’t feel alone on her birthday.

Why the fuck was he sporting a semi?

“You’re enjoying this too much aren’t you, shortcake?” 

This time, he didn’t have to push you away.

You sprang off, akin to how the like-poles of magnets repel.

“The fuck did you just call me?” You had to yell, some of the drunk dancers sending weird glances.

“Isn’t this what you wanted? You pulled that act to-”

“Shut the fuck up.” You whisper, moving closer to his ears, dragging him out, swerving through to the common restroom.

____

your pov.

“What’s all this, __?” The sudden silence echoes his deep voice throughout the entire place, making you dizzy at its amplification as opposed to the hushed noises coming from outside.

“Huh?” You pant a little, looking up at him yet again with those eyes.

He hoists you up, cold marble coming in contact with your supple, exposed thighs making you wince in the faintest voice.

“What do you think you’re doing, ___?”

His face is dangerously close. Breaths colliding.

“You played it for me, Jungkook.”

“What?”

“Thank you.”

“You’re kidding me, shortcake.”

He jerks back, hands placed on the table, caging you in them but it wasn’t enough.

Jungkook’s head falls next to your shoulder, barely touching as his eyes remain closed throughout.

“There’s nothing I’m joking about here, Jungkook.”

He slightly looks up, still hesitant to catch your eyes.

“I think the fuck yes. You’ve been diminishing my presence the entire night, and that whole cake situation felt embarrassing, __. In front of my fucking bandmates, I felt like nothing.”

His head falls again, as if some inner beast caught his breath, sighing.

“I don’t see a reason for that.” You shrug, in genuine confusion this time.

“Yeah you wouldn’t. Because I made the mistake of agreeing to perform here, when Jimin and Hyunjin clearly had no reason to.”

“Is it ‘cause you owe my dad?” A sly smirk creeps up into your lips, as Jungkook finds it in himself again to look at you.

“Do I have a fucking choice?”

“You should’ve thought before wandering into our territory, asking for help.” You swing your legs, still on top of the restroom table like you’re on some play-date, enjoying ice cream on a sunny Saturday.

“I needed it for survival. Seom was falling apart, and we really required that sum of money. And oh, you’re talking about Mr. Choi, the ever so generous man, huh? Your dad has put me through it even if I was a minute late to pay him back each month.”

“I can help.” 

You offer. Simple, cut through. It was always the simplest of suggestions that seemed like the end of the world.

“You? You’re holding on by a thread to your family, but except your thread— it’s made of money. Mine isn’t.”

“Bingo.”

Oh.

“Be with me for a month and I’ll help you relieve some stress. Know you need it. In return,”

You pause, meandering your vision to his, watching his expressions twist, lightly.

 “I’ll tell dad about your situation.” This was your cue to pull him closer by the ends of his tank top.

“Best believe, you think I’d be on my knees, accepting your offer right now” He tears himself apart, now fully on two feet, the distance between your bodies increasing.

"Remember the name you own that you boasted about, back there? Don't forget about the price you have to pay my dad, to uphold it." Laid-back, pausing for a moment, you could feel the gears turning in his head, back facing your frame now.

“There’s only one exit, to every entrance.” You say, as he was headed for the door, coming down from the table, you had your hands folded, yet again. 

Always the same.

The sound of his resolve snapping, was another alarming echo, as two worlds collided.

It was the answer to your proposal.

His lips taste like unadulterated need. Those roamed around yours, in a hurry, like a telltale of passion. He occasionally presses your foreheads together, taking as much as he wants before dipping in again. 

There you knew.

This was about to turn into a constant cycle. An endless war against sanity.

You, him— one heated glance, two bodies meeting to fight it.

____

Present.

his pov.

It feels quite deranged to think about.

Approximately a year ago when Seom was in the trenches, Jungkook, unbeknownst to his bandmates, found himself in front of Choi Enterprises. Even though the sum he got from your dad was useful in a way, it was hell to pay off. He handled it all alone, and wanted it to be a secret deal.

He still remembers that day, where you sat in front of him, flaunting the information like it bothers you.

He still remembers the way you thanked him.

Two simple, simple words. The ones that were taught as basic manners in school, ones which are usually ignored. 

Two words he never saw coming his way, even with years of hard work and struggle, living in small dorms and surviving off of convenience store food for a dream.

No one ever appreciated him, except the person who he least thought would.

“Thank you.”

It held the fucking weight of the world when you elicited it from your posh voice.

It took him here. Landed into this mutual succour, drove him into the heights of insanity, shared nights and whatever remnants of passion he had.

It's been six months and a few.

Yet here he is, still tangled up in need for you.

You asked him for a month, but that was just a feeble fabric to mask how you both just wanted to have a good fuck after everything going on in your lives, seeking whatever you missed.

However, Seom was on its success grind. After the storm of hardships, you did keep your promise. Continuous shows, a few sponsorships.

There were clear boundaries in this mad game of push and pull. 

It always remained a casual fuck, right after his gigs or sometimes in the closed walls of your luxurious penthouse that he thought he’d never see.

Because, you were mostly travelling, going on trips with god knows who.

He finds himself concerned about your company to these getaways, more than you’d given him the right for.

He opens up his messaging app again, briefly glancing at the time before opening your chats.

Finally.

Three dots appear, leave for a minute— not to be mistaken— as it comes back again with a bang, bringing in hot trails of new messages.

It was as if you were waiting for him to see your previous string of profanities.

[shortcake] 6:10 pm Asshole, where the fuck are you? [shortcake] 6:10 pm It’s been a week, Jungkook. Send me your location or you know I have my ways.

[jungkook] 6:11 pm I’m at the studio. Come to my room, behind. You know it.

He wondered why you didn’t bother checking in for a week, and clearly popped out of nowhere.

It’s just a casual hook-up with a rich girl who helps, sometimes. Who’s a menace, mostly.

He reminds himself, yet again.

Reality is so fucked up.

___

your pov.

You barge into the small practice room, a sense of knowing wrapping around you, ‘cause you’ve fucked almost everywhere at this point. It’s filthy, but it somehow keeps you together.

There was not a living soul here.

Huh.

“Shortcake?”

Honey coated voice— the one you hadn't heard for almost a week— engulfs you, heating you up like molten lava.

You simply walk over, throwing your bag on his couch, now acting as if the entire place’s yours, before piercing on the stool behind the drums.

“Where were you?” He casually sets up the aircon, closing the door as if he knew what’d happen any moment from now.

“Not your business. But guess.” You extend your hands, flaunting a set of rings made of sea-shells.

“Maldives? You went on tour again?” He asks, placing your tender fingers on his, examining the rings before abruptly taking them off.

“The fuck are you doing?!” You round up, trying to get hold of one of your favorite pieces.

“This’d look good in our studio. We’re sea themed, and I’m starting to think you got these for me.”

“You fucking wish, Jeon. Give. them. back.” You try to reach for his hands behind his back, slightly urging the both of you to the walls behind, but he wouldn't budge.

And then he does.

He turns around, crashing his lips on yours in a frantic kiss, pushing you against the walls, hands still holding your rings behind his back. Clutching together.

Your hands free run to his face, bringing him impossibly closer.

Somehow, his lips roaming around yours, pacing back and forth between consuming your edged gasps, felt like the end  of something.

You can’t pinpoint what, though.

Standing tall, head straight to catch a breath, he throws your damned rings off.

Out of sight, out of mind.

Especially when you have him, diving down again to catch your lips in his, running tongue through its seams, ever so furiously.

“Fuck, you’re even better after each trip, __.”

The contempt tastes bitter on your freshly patched up lips.

You knew he didn't mean that.

Last week, before Maldives, you parted ways after a fiery argument about your 'big girl adventures' like he called them.

All it took was you to post a picture with your dad's friend's son, Minho.

He’s about to kiss you again, when those freshly done nails of yours press lightly against his chest, halting the actions.

“Go sit there for me, Jungkook.” You muse into his ears, pointing at the stool behind his instrument.

“Why do you have such a thing for those drums? Hm, shortcake?" His demeanor seemed out of track, eyes blazing into yours.

He’s always been vocal about what he wanted, the clear boundaries and whatnot. But today was in your hands.

You pull him forward, pushing his chest, forcefully getting him to sit on that little chair.

And the next thing you do, takes his breath away. Snatches it, visibly.

You sit on his lap, legs wrapping ‘round his torso— his hands instinctively moving to your hips, holding you in place.

“Your hair has grown so much, kook.” You scramble about, untying your own silky locks that cascade down, bringing the piece of hair tie to his wavy ones that fell ever so prettily over his forehead, arching your chest into his face in the process of crafting a man bun.

You could figure out his fucked up state under you, but the coherence lasts no longer than a second as his mouth envelopes your hardened nipples, from over your flimsy skims top, the friction sending a zap of electricity through you.

“Wearing nothing underneath, you’re always so planned, huh?”

He goes back, trailing slight kisses around your smooth, buttered up neck, grazing the one spot he knew would send you in spirals, as soon as you finish tying his hair up.

“Uh-huh, wanna see you.” You bring him up, his forehead displayed, skin shining under the lights that illuminate the room.

“Hmm, proud of myself.” You grin, as he pushes you forward, hastily, that makes you helplessly choke out a moan.

Because, he’s already hard, and amidst all of this, you’d almost forgotten the purpose of this visit.

“Show me more things that you’d be proud of, shortcake.”

He guides you again, folds delicately parting at the feeling of his hard on, hidden behind the slacks.

Stupid pants.

“Off. I need these off.” He lets you pull down the sweats, catching you off guard after, by stopping you with a grip on the wrists. 

“Don’t have much time. Just— fuck— just sit on me, okay?” 

Oh.

You inch forth, capturing the supple skin of his neck, sucking on it gently, and you swear he elicits a deep guttural sound that you’re so used to, but he pulls you back by the forearm, halting your actions.

“What is it now?” You roll your eyes, clearly tired of the way he stops you at every fucking step.

“Don’t leave marks, __. I’m serious.” His eyes mirror red-hot warning, which provoked your otherwise vague intentions of actually giving him a hickey.

But all you do is move on his growing hard-on, desperately, because,

Fuck trying to work him up when you can clearly see him snaking into your arms, your actions.

His hands fly to your hips, holding them against his own yet again as you set a rhythm with this entire thing, whatever the fuck it was— it was sure getting him riled up beneath you.

“Fuck, yes- sshit- just like that, shortcake.” He groans into your ears, hands frantically tugging down the white skims top to finally reveal your bosoms. He presses a light kiss to the very ends of your nipples that pebbles under the cold air of the room, making you hiss into his ears at the sensation, head falling back as your torso never fails to ride into his.

You could see how close he was, with just a look at his outline pressing ever so deliciously into the tight Calvin Klein's you were sitting on— claiming as yours with every stroke of friction felt in between your thighs.

“Just fucking want my- goddamn- performance to get over so that I can fuck you backstage, angel.”

Your stomach tightens at the idea, strings of what could be his name, and a few profanities slipping out of your mouth.

“You want someone to catch us, don’t you?” His doe eyes look up at your figure on his, and you just dip down in response, sucking on his neck again, purposefully leaving a dark, purple mark on it.

Maybe, you wanna see him mad.

“Fuck, __. You can never stop being a brat and listen to me for once.” You were achingly close to snapping that knot coiling in the pit of your stomach, the traction from the rough fabric of his boxers giving you life, just about to send you over the peak.

 But he just— as cruelly yanks you off his lap.

“Down. On your knees now.” He gets up, pulling his tee away from his body with just one hand.

This shouldn’t be turning you on.

But it was, so you do.

Drop down on your knees, behind the fucking drums, your frame hidden behind. 

The thought of someone barging in at the sight of Jungkook and you behind, seemed so enticing to you, but it vanishes as soon as it takes form, when the man right in front of you, grabs your open hair tightly in a pony-tail, before you could even pull them boxers down and take him in your grip.

“You’re not gonna utter a word, and do as I say.”

You look at him through lidded eyes, too far gone to even retort now.

“Use your mouth, __.” He spills out your full name, and that means it's done. Your part is over.

“Yes.” You state simply, his face contorting in amusement, before pulling his boxers down just enough for his fully hard cock to come up.

However, he was wrong, in thinking he had the full advantage of being the upper hand.

“What happened to having no time, baby?” You huff, too fast to let him catch the tone, before taking his tip in your glossy mouth, and all that came out from him in response was a lucid groan. 

You knew he wanted to curse at you, sputter pure despise at your audacity to ignore his words. 

Best part is, you also knew what your mouth did to him.

Something that sounded like a hushed out moan rumbled out of him, as he pulled your hair, guiding you well.

“Fuck, you love taking me, don’t you? Filthy girl doing so well for me.” He seems to have entirely forgotten your words amidst the mirage of pleasure your mouth enveloped him in.

“Can you look at me, __?” He sputters, hands hovering over your glossy cheeks, hollowed out around his cock.

He lets go of your hair, brushing it to the side and tucking it behind your ears, the blazing pull that burnt your scalp deliciously all along, finally coming to rest. 

His voice was gentle, the one you could feel everywhere, so you continued, without adhering to his wish.

Because, you were taken aback by the soft call.

Terrified.

What happened to the harsh monotony he put through minutes ago?

The sting on your scalp hasn't fully died out, yet.

How the hell did things transition so quickly?

Like he had a mid-sex awakening, purely due to some blood flow issues?

Hormones?

Focus, __. Your hands presses on the muscular flesh of his upper thigh, as movements grow confident around his cock, slightly stroking the base with your fingers now and then, teasing, the jerk of his hips against you so sudden, you mumble a hushed fuck that travels all the way up his breaking point.

“Yyes- ffuck- shortcake do you not hear me? Look up at me, __.” He forces your chin up, as your eyes follow his face, contorting in gleaming pleasure.

“You’re so f- pretty nghh-” Those sounds. Desperate and splintered.

“I’m c- god fuck, where do y’want me, shortcake nghh-” He makes the prettiest sounds, sure, but you were still dazed.

“Wherever.” Your blunt response caught him off-guard, as he slowly pulled out, his own hands taking over, desperately and rushed.

“I’m- fu- shortcake, you’re gonna be the end- ssshit- of me” He snaps, like its been forever, cumming so fucking hard, as it leaks onto your chin that he’s still got a hold of. 

At one point, he’s gasping, panting, riding his high like it’s the last time, stamina completely thrown off.

But the next minute, his hands are on your forearms, nudging you up, manhandling, imposing, lifting you up by the waist with the ease of his tatted arms, onto his drums.

Your ass presses far too much onto the rim of the drum pad, its nuances nudging your soft flesh as he clings his body onto yours.

“What the fuck was the attitude you gave me, __?” He rasps, bold and unrelenting into your face. 

“I’m leaving today.” You say in a breath, wanting to close your eyes and hide from his questions that you knew would follow after.

“You were the one who texted me, called me and came in here. Now you’re leaving? Is it because of the trust fund baby you posted last day? Minho?” He speaks into the afterglow that glistened your face, the lights more brighter as the evening transitioned into the fall of night.

“I won’t come to your concert this week.” You just keep on spewing these sentences, knowing that he’d get mad, but it was inevitable.

He pushes away, the sudden loss of proximity and warmth almost propelling your body forward to chase it again, but you control.

“I’ll use your restroom, yeah?” You grab the bag and rings that lay forgotten.

His lack of response was definitely novel, but you don’t dwell.

Jungkook plops down on the couch, hands slowly untying the man bun that knotted his hair tightly, ruffling the now free curls, raking his palms slowly through them.

You come back, hands washed and freshened up, seeing him sprawled out on the couch.

Those lingering moments and conversations weren't a part of the deal. As much as you wanted to explain— how you had to urgently leave for London and why you're missing his concert— the way his features softened during sex, while he had you on him, all over and consuming.

That was new.

Bemusing.

You wanted to say anything, really.

But what was there to tell him, that doesn't sound like a goodbye now?

So, you quietly gather your things— the only things filling up the space being the hum of the aircon and the sofa creaking with his legs shaking in somewhat an anxious tone— and leave the studio.

────୨ৎ────

note, endingment and all who am i lmao BUT

part two?

the post oc made with minho here

────୨ৎ────

ONCE AGAIN UNDER THE MISTLETOE ⋆ 전정국

𓂃˖ ࣪⊹ in which . . prince!jk and princess!oc are gifted with a deluge of adversities. in what was expected to be a day of joy, will they find happiness again? the one that was lost in a mirage a year ago?

words, 2.3k filter, @ lovelogs on polarr,, thank you! love diaries, music rec for once again under the mistletoe — "happiness is a butterfly" — lana del ray [specifically for the last part], "i love you" — billie eilish

────୨ৎ────

Winter came anew, snow spread all over like a soft white blanket, a few pellets here and there. You walked out of the palace, draped in layers of clothing which wrapped warmth around, as you walked  down the imperial staircase decorated royally with different kinds of fairy lighting and small baubles stuck onto the handrail.  Elegant and festive air engulfed the palace atmosphere. As you waltz  to the extravagant Jeonju palace hall, you see workers hurrying, walking hither-thither in order to get the big Christmas tree decorated. Like the friendly woman you are, you greet each one of them as they serve a bow to you. A slow smile lines on your lips while you make your way to the door and out into the palace garden covered in layers of snow. 

The kingdom of Jeonju preparing for Christmas is arduous. 

They say, all princesses are happy, for they have everything they want. No struggles and zero distress. But a princess, beyond the shimmery crown, harbors a soul.. Breathes the same air as everyone irrespectively.

Your life was complete, in the eyes of a commoner. Jewelry, innumerable dresses, people to cater to basic needs, everything. 

You were surely grateful, but a constant void colored in the outlines of your mind, enhancing its emptiness.

The scent of winter was apparent, air turned more frigid as you clutched the clothes draped around you, pressing them more onto your skin as a shield, before sitting down on the bench amidst the green and white expanse of the palace garden.

Numerous thoughts smoothly slide into your mind watching the snow decorate the bushes and trees. Sparing a soft glance at your left hand, your other hand slightly caresses the shining diamond ring encircling the ring finger. 

A promise ring. Defining your love for one another, signifying that your heart belongs to him and only him. Jeon Jungkook. He is the only man you have in your heart and secure your love for. 

Jeonju’s deemed enemy, the prince of Busan.

[ Previous Christmas : A year ago ]

Tip-toeing through the silent hallway of your palace at night with only minutes left for the clock to strike twelve was— peculiar. Especially for a Princess who was forbidden to step foot out of the palace without umpteen bodyguards clearing her way. 

You were always kept away even  from normal experiences. No public interactions, no relationships to cherish, nothing.

Just because your dad, the King of Jeonju, feared his rivals, he kept you indoors shut out from all danger. 

Standing to a side, finding space behind the statue of some revered ancestor, your breaths fogged up the smoothly maintained bronze surface of the rigid man’s metal torso— the cold air dominating.

You look around, silently scrambling to the nearest exit in a flash.

Save?

The jolly air of the palace backyard facing the town hit so vividly, the Christmas cheer already highlighting each of the houses— which were only miniature structures visible from your current position.

The previous day, you heard the maidens in the palace talking about a Christmas ball that was being held in the kingdom of Busan. Yes, you knew they were cut-throat enemies of Jeonju. But, you cared less, and decided to take part in it. 

Discreetly.

It was a task, really, but convincing Soojin— your personal handmaiden— to lend you one of her unused dresses and accessories was quite easy. 

Step 1, check.

Now you stand near the stables, whistling to Ira, your best friend, partner in crime.

Ira gallops in glee, however you could sense the tired whine she lets out the moment you feed her— boosting up energy for the adventurous night ahead— the way to Busan, now your red carpet to freedom.

___

Slowly walking through the wide hall— where several people were huddled up enjoying their time with their dance partners as a melodious Christmas tune was being enunciated by the royal band—you smiled heartily after a long time seeing everyone forget war and crime, just dancing to their heart’s content.

Soon, you were pulled further into the crowd softly, and looking up, you found a pair of very familiar doe eyes boring into yours. 

“I knew you'd come.” He whispered, leaning towards your ear, hearing his voice after the longest time sent shivers down your spine. You’ve been close to only one person in your whole life, and he is the one who stood before you, hands circling around your waist, holding you against him.

Before the Kingdoms got into war, you both were best friends. He was a necessity like morning coffee, unwavering partner in most childhood shenanigans— and maybe just maybe, yours.

Both of you knew, for lifetime, that you're meant to be eachothers'. It wasn't required to be put in long words,

You just knew.

In fact, Busan and Jeonju weren’t enemies until the war that wreaked havoc all around the place. From then, you never got to meet him.

The kingdoms separated, cutting all ties, and even imposing regulations on citizens. 

Never did you think that he’ll remember you after all that happened.

You took the biggest risk, now standing in a ballroom where thousands of people could see and recognize your presence.

However, his hold on you only tightened.

“I thought you wouldn’t remember me.” You let out shakily, overwhelmed with all the emotions striking through your being. 

He swayed your bodies side to side rhythmically, his mouth still near your ear. 

“I can’t afford to forget my princess.” Still dancing to the music, a tear rolled down your eye, head rested upon his shoulder ever so gently. And that small action showed how you missed and longed for him, the only person that gave you love.

“Loving your dress choice for the night, angel.” He chuckles, looking down at the faded material of your clothing. Running a hand through the lace that graced the neckline, his hands rest back on your waist, never ceasing to follow the mellow slow dance.

“You’re making fun of me, when I came such a long way to meet you. Talk about being a man.” Your eyes almost meet the back of your head, rolling them in mock anger, as he connects your foreheads with a breathy laughter rumbling through his chest.

You feel it.

Your hands on his chest, you feel the happiness.

The warmth you were never sure of, until now.

He carefully lets you step on his long pointed shoes— finely polished into shiny black— as your gloved palms find home on his shoulders.

And what you were unaware of, was his sneaky intention.

You looked up, to see the both of you standing near the grand Christmas tree, small branches of mistletoe hanging above your heads. Gaze fixed on Jungkook’s doe eyes, he whispered “I’ve been waiting for this moment for years, princess. Let me-“

“PRINCE JUNGKOOK !!” A deep yell echoed throughout the hall as everyone flinched and gasped, Jungkook detached himself from your figure, knowing the source of that authoritative voice. The music halted midway and now, all eyes were on the both of you.

The King of Busan, threw a sharp glare at you, as you bowed to him, eyes darting around the empty ground. “What are you doing with her? She’s our enemy’s daughter, the Princess of Jeonju. And you, who let you step into our palace?”

“I told her to come” Jungkook stood in front of you defensively. 

“May you enlighten me on who gave you the right to decide, when I’m well and alive?” He asked Jungkook, tension crackling between their gaze.

“I love her, dad. I want her to be my Princess.”

You were absolutely stunned at his confession. He did not say “Princess of Busan”. No titles. Just his.

“JUNGKOOK, HOW DARE YOU TALK BACK TO ME?” The King raised his voice, outraged at his son’s audacity.

“I want to make my own decisions,-” He was about to go on, but you noticed The King was at his absolute limit of tolerance. You had to intervene. 

“Jungkook please. You can’t talk back to your father.” 

“YOU, you are the reason he talked back to me, his father. I will not spare you and your kingdom. Guards ! I want her out. This instant.” The King ordered as your eyes widened in terror. This news will surely reach your Kingdom and much worse— your father.

And that shouldn’t happen no matter what. 

Like he read your thoughts, Jungkook held his hand up, gesturing the guards to stop moving further.

“I’ll leave.” He simply stated, your whole body shook in terror, slowly holding his shoulder with your right hand.

“Why” A small shaky whisper left your lips. He turned towards you, smiling. 

“Princess, I promise to come back to you. If I don’t leave now, you will be in great trouble, I don’t want that to happen. You deserve a lot more in life.” 

“Out. Now.” His dad said nonchalantly, as you watched Jungkook slip through the swarm of people, their mouths agape in stupefaction as murmurs filled the air.

Who never thought this Christmas night would be so eventful. 

Breaking down into heavy sobs, tears glistened in a cascade through your skin.

He sacrificed everything he had for you.

Not wasting any more time, you bolted out of palace and from the Kingdom of Busan. 

Ira was in no state to carry you any further, her growing neighs filled with complaint reaching your ears.

What did that poor animal do anyways.

You sigh and hop down, patting her soft body, calming her down and perching on a bench in the outskirts of the Kingdom, the dim streetlights casting a glow over.

Almost instantly, a piece of parchment slipped out of Ira’s side pocket, and caught your attention.

Opening it, you found a few words scribbled on it :

Would I ever be able to visit you in that dream Where you and I are eternal  Not a goodbye, but a faint quest I leave, for answers I promise to come back  With my healing wounds, I had left in my heart for eternity  I’m still with you Darkness of the waves in me will be long gone by then You're my everything, words can't describe your soul Our Heart strings  still embracing each other  I’m never letting go  Never in a million years  기대해줘 (wait for me) ~ yours, jeongguk.

A ring slips out of the envelope, and onto the ground, clattering in the loud silence of the surroundings, as Ira stirs from the sides, alerting your attention.

quietly taking it from the sandy pathway, you dust it and put it on.

You don’t cry.

Just longingly stare at the ragged piece of paper.

[ Present Time : 25th December ]

'Tis the season to be jolly', they say.

Not for the Princess of Busan.

The title felt heavy on your shoulders, each time your entire family brings up the happenings of a year ago.

You never celebrated Christmas with joy after the incident.

Instead, you simply used to walk around Jeonju and watch everyone spend their time with loved ones just to put your heart at ease. 

And that’s exactly what you were doing right now. 

Walking around the street, disguised in Soojin’s dress (yet again), watching people shop for gifts, some out in front of their houses decorating the trees, the endearing giggles of  the children who laughed and played around filling up in the air. 

As you continued the stroll, you stumbled upon a small hall from which low chattering erupted. 

Stopping near its door you peered in, careful not to get noticed by anyone inside. But suddenly a group of girls pushed their way in, taking you along with them, accidentally inwards. 

The whole place was decorated minimally but it looked pretty.

Christmas cheer everywhere, it’s the first time you felt festive. The whole aura of the place just fit the season. 

A medium sized tree perched on the floor and vines of mistletoe on and around the tree. 

Busy admiring the place, you felt a small tug at the hem of Soojin’s hand away dress that adorned your body— one that aided you in this disguise.

Looking down, a tiny girl smiled widely at you.

Gently crouching down to meet her eyes, you asked her ;

“Hey baby, what’s your name?” 

“I’m Mina ! You look like a princess ! I want you to dance with my Koo!” She exclaimed as your eyebrows crashed in confusion.

“Who is Koo, Mina?” In response to your query, she pointed towards a tall man, back turned to the both of you as he talked away with other men around him.

“He’s my Prince ! And I want a Princess to love him, a princess who’s as kind and caring just like the one in the story Koo tells me everyday!” She sounded so excited to introduce you to him, and pulled you towards the man.

“Koo ! Mina found a Princess for you, now dance with the others, it’s Christmas, come on.” She nudged his arm and the moment your eyes met with his, the world seemed to stop.

The same doe eyes that carried your galaxy.

“Princess?” He was surprised to see you there.

Mina immediately put your hands into his, the comfort of them which you felt after an eternity, had a lasting effect. 

She pushed you towards the crowd, déjà vu rushing in at the whole setting— Christmas day and the dance— taking you back to the last one almost instantly.

A million questions in your mind, he pulled you closer once again, but this time the hold was more firm and confident. 

Like he’ll never doubt it. 

Like he never did.

You couldn’t help but let out tears, drowning into his eyes as the music played in the background, the mistletoe above your heads once again.

“Princess, look up” You followed his words and looked up only to find the mistletoe right above your heads again. 

“Seems like they're determined to make us kiss.” You joked and he shook his head, resting his forehead on yours, you couldn’t get enough of his eyes, wanting to look at them forever.

“Aren’t you looking into my eyes a little too much? Makes me flustered, princess.”

“I don’t want to stay away from you anymore. Let me look at you, what if you’d disappear again? How did you end up here?” You asked, bodies still swaying slightly in accordance to the music.

Unsaid words, but you knew your hearts were situated tightly in eachother's iron grips.

“I wanted to see you all the time, didn’t want to give up, so I came here, worked many hours in this small shop to be independent, I don’t want a kingdom that banished me, anymore, when I have my world with me,”

He looks at you with adoration.

"Knowing you're somewhere around, here in Jeonju, that was all that I needed to keep moving forth. Remember my promise?"

You nod, fingers finding its way into the fabric of his ragged, grey overalls, gripping lightly. He notices the ring wrapped on your finger and caresses it, face splashed with surprise.

Intertwining his hand with your ring-clad ones, your bodies sway further under the mistletoe hanging above.

"Do you live here?" Your simple question makes him smile, hands pushing a few wispy strands of your hair to the side.

"Yes, this is my humble abode, Mina's parents own the shop I work in. I live alone, in their outhouse."

He looks at Mina, excitedly playing around with a few of her friends, running around the tree all ready to open the gifts— dancing in tiny moves, occasionally, to the joyous music.

Your eyes follow, and realize— watching his calm face shine brightly under the yellow lights reflecting through the room.

You're not ready to let go.

"I'm so proud of you, never thought I'd see you again." You feel his calloused hands caress you cheeks, thumb rubbing over the unnoticed beads of tears.

He pauses, turning to look at you in deep contemplation.

“I used to see you when you walked around the palace gardens. From afar.” 

“You could’ve approached me, oh, you don’t know how much I missed you, Jungkook.” You replied, slowly bringing your palm around his nape, bringing his face closer to rest your cherry lips on his.

Surprised by your bold move, he smiles into the kiss, sharing all the passion that he had through it, hands encircling your waist, arching you into him.

A feeling you both yearned for, lips on each other for the first time under the mistletoe, anew.

Once again under the mistletoe, this time it’s forever.

────୨ৎ────

uarmygguk. 2025.

je ne sais pas qui est ici

thinking of starting a series of little posts where i talk about certain details in my fics that i intended to add— wanna call it ‘nin’s nuances’ or something— food for thought 💭

shades of you ★ jjk

gguk's ficbook

brief: helping you from getting caught by the cops starring: roommate!jk x f!reader tags/warnings: mentions of graffiti art, reader is sort of a rebel (she's got reasons), jungkook is lowk sus note: clearing my drafts and blurbs before i venture further! tbh it's been long, tiring and exhausting in here— but i love writing too much to let go <3

A dark brown leather, but worn out jacket hung over your shoulders, slumping due to the weight of the bag full of potential tools you had in them, the night washed over the sky, a few dimly lit, flickering street lights were the only form of brightness in your life.

literally. 

Kicking and rolling the few stones that lay unattended on the floors of the walkway, your eyes slowly lift up from gazing at the rocks, and fix them on the few clean and ready to be done walls sprawled out, as if it is welcoming you.

Stopping on your tracks, the sound of the bag being practically thrown on the ground stinged your ears because of the metal bottles of spray paint in them. 

Yes, those were your tools of comfort, the very ones that help you decorate the walls with talent. Your uni didn’t necessarily invite you in for the innumerable art competitions, even if you wanted to, let’s just say because you weren’t very reputable around.

To unpack the happenings from the timeline of your transfer to the new uni from your hometown — from where you were terminated during a collective campaign you launched with a couple of friends against the corrupted management system— the natural looks of loathe you got in the new school wasn’t exactly unfathomable. 

It was inevitable, you knew you wouldn’t be accepted in the right way anymore.

Exactly why now, you stood here in the utmost dingiest part of the alley with the shadiest surroundings— it was the typical place that screamed “unsafe”, but you still felt nothing but pure bliss when you shook the spray can, the light tapping sound reverberating through the atmosphere which was devoid of noise except the occasional chirp of crickets, as your hands moved freely with the strokes that accentuated liberty through art.

Ironically enough, it was something you were deprived of, all your life while fighting for it. 

Getting yourself enrolled in college again was the last thing on your mind, resorting to certain small jobs, but you had the will to live and fight your way along, against injustice. That landed you where you currently pursued studies at, and with a few connections, you managed to find housing right next to college.

It wasn’t anything big— but could call it home. It soon became one for two, as your hunt for a roommate rested when ultimately, Jeon Jungkook, a timid freshman started lodging with you.

You’d usually walk into the house after college and see him sprawled on the sofa, reading. Then you’d get out for some fresh air into the balcony, and there he’d be being an ever know avid reader, again.

And like that, you just decided to keep yourself away from him, so that you wouldn’t become a scar to his peace; a blemish.

Occasional greetings and fleeting moments in the kitchen whenever the two of you grabbed morning cereal or late night snacks were common, but apart from that he was just a regular compsci major.

The one who you were intrigued by.

Your thoughts are occupied with him, while you brush on the wall with the spray paint. Mindlessly, your hands, merged with the rhythm of your mind, stroked “田柾國”  onto the surface of the wall.

You were a Korean culture enthusiast, and thus mastered Hanja, a traditional writing system that consists of Chinese characters. A small chuckle escaped and melted into the air, as you suddenly snapped out of the daze.

Painting was your only escape, but you weren’t one who frequently zoned out while working.

“Shit- Did I just write his name in Hanja..” You mumbled those words contradicting the look of pure amusement in your face.

As you were about to paint more graffiti onto the wall, a faint noise of a siren, possibly of the cop vans, echoed vividly, around the empty alley like an alarm, a warning.

Your ears perked and the thought of getting into trouble electrified your spine like it usually doesn't and pieces of fear pricked into your head wounding your previously soft thoughts.

If you get caught, you will definitely be expelled again. Been through it once, but this time it’s different with Jungkook involved.

You somehow grew attached, and don't want to cease being his one and only roommate.

A warm fuzzy feeling coursed through you.

Beep. Wrong timing.

You were in the middle of fucking running away from cops.

Get your shit together, ___.

Hurriedly, you carelessly stuffed the supplies into the backpack and rushed with folding up the ladder you stood in, putting it aside to clear off any traces of your presence. T

he sirens grew closer and closer as your breath hitched seeing the vans pull up, the headlights illuminating the streets.

This was it. You were about to get caught.

But just as the cops were surrounding the place where you beautifully painted the graffiti on, a pair of hands swiftly scooped you into the nothingness of the small walkway behind the walls and in no time, the person, whoever it was, connected their foreheads with yours, in an attempt to look like you both were just mere couples minding their own business.

A torch light glimmered through the alley and into the small pathway behind and immediately retracted.

Cops were out of sight, but still the man had himself attached to you, his hands tenderly gripping your waist in a ring, his breath fanning over your face.

You were slow to notice the flavor of mint Jungkook timidly asks you to buy whenever you go out—the one smell that makes your heart tumble in an approximately infinite number of somersaults—filling your senses.

“Jungkook?” You cautiously whispered, his face too close to yours to let you breathe. 

“You’re one little troublesome thing aren’t you?” Now that’s not the Jungkook you know. His voice seemed deeper than the galaxies his eyes held. 

“I was just doing what I like.” You shrugged off, just like you weren’t standing wide eyed with a racing heart.

“Same.” He whispered before holding your jaw and diving in, bringing back your lips in his as you were utterly shocked, but your senses kissed him back, with the same passion. He walked backwards, out into the street where the wall stood, his name in Hanja shone brighter than ever, in the moonlight.

Pulling out, he rested his forehead on yours again, but you walked off towards the broken switches that controlled the flimsy bulb that hung over on the most dark alleyway and turned them up, the lights going out as the both of you were illuminated with just the dim moonlight, which seemed to disappear into the clouds, as if they were sucked in its vortex.

“Who are you?”

A question for a question.

As the night entangles its beauty into the walls that lay bare in front of your vision, you watch the letters in hanja, your art piece slowly disappearing from sight.

way back home ★ jjk

brief, cuddling on a rainy night starring, CEO!jungkook (baby daddy!jk 😓) x f!reader tags/warnings, none! just some corny lines cuz even though he's a CEO kook's cheesy like that, also korean euphemism reference (iykyk ;)

love diaries music rec, still with you— jungkook

A cold Tuesday night, the streetlights highlighting the sheets of rain sweeping sideways, the slow breeze along with the soft downpour overall — a perfect night to recollect, relax and reflect. You stood in the kitchen of the penthouse, stirring up and preparing hot shin ramen, simultaneously warming up some milk, as the rain continued to go “pitter-patter” outside. Your glance occasionally shifted to the glass window where the raindrops were sticking on, enjoying every bit of the night, as the sound of rain reverberated through the kitchen, Seoul city spanning out right in front of your eyes with new doors to happiness opening everyday.

A small fist grabbed the hem of your tee and tugged on it to grab your attention, making you look down, only to find your toddler, Mia looking up at you with her doe eyes that held a questioning look—  one that she purely inherited from her father, Jungkook. Her cherubic smile melted your senses as you scooped her up,  along with the cookie plushie she tightly clutched onto.

“Mia, didn’t mommy tell you to play with cookie while she brings milk for you?” You lightly tap the plushy clad in her tiny fists, as she defensively brings cookie closer to her little face, eyes slightly curved and lips already in a small pout, soon parted to form words.

“Dada, me wanna see” She barely made a sentence, but the longing in her sweet voice was enough for you to realize that she had been missing her best friend,  her dad. Jungkook was the best dad to Mia, you love the way his eyes turn into goo when he holds her close, the way the both of them bond. He was off to work for a week now, in another town. He’d never miss a chance to come on FaceTime with you, and Mia pops in, giggling and her attempts to speak were just too cute to resist. She'd host a full fledged puppet show with cookie and her other plushies, occasionally jumping on the couches and chairs, making you sprint along as Jungkook watches the shenanigans a screen away.

But those wouldn't compensate for the feeling of having him close, feeling his warmth around you, and the rainy night caused these feelings to grow rapidly. 

Definitely missing him.

“Dada will come tomorrow, okay? Now my baby can have her milk !” You lit her mood up as she lightly clapped her tender hands. Putting her down gently, you started filling her small bottle with milk, but just then, the doorbell rang as Mia ran towards it hoping that it’d be her dad with you following behind.

Clicking the door open, the familiar scent of forment cologne caught you off-guard, only to meet your beloved husband’s heart eyes that bored into yours.

“Jungkook ! You’re back !” Forgetting everything else, your arms flung around his well-built body, his hands encircling your waist in return. Mia started jumping in tiny, wanting to be in her father’s embrace too. Noticing her little movements, he immediately picked her up and peppered her face with small kisses, making you look at them in awe.

“I missed you both, couldn’t wait to finish everything and come back to my lovely wife and dada’s girl.” He pecked your lips and collected his baggage before going inside with you and Mia.

“Why aren’t you saying anything, love?” He set aside his suitcase and you helped him remove his coat.

“I’m just too stunned to speak honestly- You didn’t tell me that you were coming today ! I could’ve prepared something special for you.” You made a not-so-satisfied face as Jungkook laughed  it away, easing your frown with his free hand.

“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you.” He winked, making you roll your eyes in mock annoyance. That’s when Mia started tapping Jungkook’s cheeks, still in his arms.

“Yes yes baby? What happened?” His attention shifted completely to her, as she yawned, her doe eyes getting droopy.

“Mia wants to sleep, I see. C’mon, let’s rest together.” Patting her back, he was about to walk away with her when you stopped him.

“Koo, you can go and freshen up. I’ll put her to bed.” 

However, he stood still, Mia now fast asleep in her dad’s arms.

“Jungkook? Go take a shower.”

“No fun in showering alone. I’m too lazy. Someone up to help me?” He raised a brow in mischief.

You knew where this was going.

“I’d much rather help my baby sleep.”  You laughed at his shocked expression as you took Mia from him and walked towards the bedroom, him giving up and retreating to the restroom to indulge in a relaxing hot shower, as the rain showed no sign of ceasing for the night, much to his delight..

time skip;

Jungkook eased his muscles, a hot shower on a cold rainy night was pure bliss. He walked out of the washroom drying his soft locks when his eyes landed upon Mia’s sleeping figure. She laid down on the soft mattress, legs tangled together cuddling the very plushie he once gifted her on her first birthday.

You rushed into the room scrubbing your lightly wet hands against the apron wrapped around your figure, looking like you just came from work to check on Mia.

“Hey, cherry” Jungkook walked to you and wrapped you in his hold as you tried to wiggle out to check on the dish cooking up back in the kitchen so that it wouldn’t burn.

“Koo, I gotta make something for you, not now.”

However the “cherry” did something to you, as remnants of your times back in school where it all started, came back in a cascade of memories. A friendship that planted its seed back when the both of you were literal children, morphed into something even more beautiful, but nothing changes no matter the distance or time. He’ll always be your best friend, your partner in every step of life.

“I’d love anything you make, even if it’s just some ramen.” His grip tightened, making you stop your attempts to get away.

“That’s cap, now don’t be stubborn, Jeon.” You scolded but he lifted you up in his hold, your feet now on top of his, moving  behind the divider curtains so that your baby wouldn’t be disturbed amidst the somewhat get-together her parents are having.

“You smell so good, baby” He whispers into your neck, eyes closed.

“I think I smell like ramen and milk powder, for sure.” You swat his shoulder, bringing him close as he hums into your chest, now, placing featherlight kisses all over it and right at the centre of the J necklace that wrapped around your neck.

“Nope, you smell like what’s mine.”

You were about to snort at his corny reply, but his following  response tightens your heart strings.

“You’re doing great. Thank you for holding our family together.”

He leans down, placing his tender lips on yours, foreheads resting against each other as his hands rub your waist over the apron, drawing you even closer, as if it’s possible. 

Just then, you heard a soft sniffle, realizing that Mia woke up, you went over, and took her in your motherly embrace, cooing sweet nothings to calm her down. Meanwhile, Jungkook walked up to your duo and placed himself on the bed, resting his back on the headboard, and gestured to you to go to him.

You had Mia in your arms, his embrace immediately wrapping around the both of you as the rain continued outside, the clock ticked to the time, 9.30 pm. Mia was already fed, since you prefer to put her to bed early. Feeling soft pecks landing on your forehead time to time, you asked Jungkook 

"How was work there? Are you good?" Your eyes went to Mia’s peaceful face as she succumbed to sleep yet again.

He hummed with a sweet smile before opening his relaxed eyes. 

"I did well, but couldn't wait to come back home. But I've left off all the work for a week from today." He said, looking at your confused self.

"But weren't you the one who wouldn't spend time with us until all your work is complete? What's up now?" You whispered making sure not to wake Mia up.

"I thought about it, love.. I'll never have this best version of me if I'm away from the both of you. Now I'm gonna slow everything down and build our family, putting you first before anything." Tears welled up in your hazel eyes, how committed he was about your family. Definitely lucky to have him as your husband. 

"Hey, love, don't cry. I don't like to see you like this." Contradictory to those words, his tummy rumbled making him gasp and smile bashfully, elevating the emotionally charged surroundings.

“Oh god, see you’re hungry. I told you to eat before anything else, didn’t I? C’mon, I’ll make you some ramen.” You put Mia on the mattress, placing a few pillows near her just in case she tosses and turns. 

Taking out two cups of ramen, you fetched the already boiled water, mixed it with the noodles, and added the contents of the flavor packet that came with it into the paper cup. Jungkook wrapped his arms around you warmly, watching you cook up his meal.

“There you go. Eat well, I made it with love, you know.” You joked making him chuckle and dig into it scrunching his face at how good it tasted.

You couldn’t help but boop his nose, as he continued to slurp on the spicy goodness.

“You not eatin’?” He asked with a full mouth, barely making a coherent sentence.

“It’s 10pm. I already ate, baby.”

He seemed satisfied with your reply, immediately asking you for a side of kimchi to go with the last bits of noodles left.

___

[After dinner; 11:01 pm]

Intertwining his hands with yours, he walked you to the balcony, facing the rain which never seemed to end. Standing behind you, his arms around your figure, watching the rain was his little happiness. He yearned almost everyday to just feel you with him when he was away, but since the moment is here, he wanted to cherish every second.

“Lord, why’s the weather so moody? You know, I love the way the rain makes the brown soil seem richer and earthier than they are otherwise. It’s like it makes the things around us more pronounced and seen.” You muse into his ears, hands now resting on his tatted ones around your waist.

“Just like how I feel when I’m with you.” He added to your description, a crimson shade splashing on your bashful visage.

“You’re too cheesy today, what’s in the air huh?” You tapped his cheeks lightly.

“Hmm, I wanted to ask you something, though.” His eyes half closed, lax, almost as if he’s feeling the surroundings.

“Yes?” You waited for a response as he turned you around to face him directly in the eyes.

“Wanna have more ramen with me before bed?”

🦇 TEENVAMPIRE!JIMIN HEADCANNONS

warnings: vampire!jimin x human!reader. 2000s public school au. he’s a hot weird kid idk how else to describe it. non-biting vampire. ⎛⎝( ` ᢍ ´ )⎠⎞

lulu speaks: i edited the fang on him myself thank you thank you no need for applause 😌

ྐ❤︎ teenvampire!jimin who transferred in the middle of the semester with no explanation. no parents. no records. just showed up to homeroom one day in a black leather jacket and eyeliner.

ྐ❤︎ teenvampire!jimin who only drinks from blood bags because he’s “trying to be good now”.

ྐ❤︎ teenvampire!jimin who has the nerve to say “you smell… good” like it’s not the same love spell body mist half the school wears.

ྐ❤︎ teenvampire!jimin who is suspiciously confident. he shows up late to class but never gets in trouble. has perfect grades but never studies. he always looks like he knows something you don’t.

ྐ❤︎ teenvampire!jimin whose eyes are constantly low and tired like his eyelids weigh tons.

ྐ❤︎ teenvampire!jimin who fails gym every semester because his heart doesn’t beat, he doesn’t sweat, and he can’t explain that during a beep test.

ྐ❤︎ teenvampire!jimin who always smells faintly of something sweet and metallic. you can never place it. it makes your chest ache a little.

ྐ❤︎ teenvampire!jimin who hasn’t fed in days—not since he saw you. everything after that tasted bland, like ash. not you. and he couldn’t do that to himself.

ྐ❤︎ teenvampire!jimin who got a good look at your neck once when you tilted your head back laughing. his knuckles went white. he left the room.

ྐ❤︎ teenvampire!jimin who never sits next to you. ever. but he’s always in your eyeline. the cafeteria, homeroom, biology, the hallway. he’s always close enough for you to see; never enough for you to suspect.

ྐ❤︎ teenvampire!jimin who asks you if you believe in monsters one day, completely out of the blue. you say no. he grins, nods. “lucky you.”

ྐ❤︎ teenvampire!jimin who calls you “bright eyes”, all teasing and smug as if his don’t glimmer when they catch the moonlight.

ྐ❤︎ teenvampire!jimin who has a painfully noticeable shift in his energy when he’s hungry—his pupils dilate, his sarcasm dissapears, and he moves like he’s got something heavy chained to his spine. his eyes are set forward: unmoving, deathly set on something in the distance.

ྐ❤︎ teenvampire!jimin who buys a new abercrombie & fitch cologne every release because he thinks it’ll make him smell like every other teenage boy.

lulu speaks pt2: one of my irl friends has my acc now so she can see everything i post🧍🏻‍♀️everyone say hi mani 👋🏼

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📔 CLASSPRESIDENT!JIMIN HEADCANNONS

warnings: classpresident!jimin x brainsandbrawns!reader. he’s basically a smarter & bitchier tristan dugray. private school au. long time rivals with tension. power couple who isn’t a couple yet but SO should be. rich boy with a pride problem.

lulu speaks: he’s hot i want him BHADDD

✎ classpresident!jimin whose parents are part of the school board, and are the main funders of the school.

✎ classpresident!jimin who ran for class president and won by a landslide. it was mostly because his peers are scared to death of him, and because nobody else even bothered to run against him.

✎ classpresident!jimin who finishes physics tests 20 minutes early and leaves students feeling like idiots just for glancing at their calculator.

✎ classpresident!jimin who will give you detention for being late and then walk you to class himself, smirking the entire time down.

✎ classpresident!jimin who pulls your chair out and holds the door for you, but not for anyone else. ever. if someone points it out, he brushes it off with, “she’s too high-maintenance to be trusted with a door.”

✎ classpresident!jimin who shoots anyone who makes you laugh death stares, but only because he knows he’s never even been close to doing that—and he’ll likely never be.

✎ classpresident!jimin who absolutely sabotages anyone who tries to date you. he grades them harshly on their assignments because he’s a TA, tells teachers they were talking during a fire drill, spreads rumors that could ruin careers, all while you are blissfully unaware.

✎ classpresident!jimin who pretends he doesn’t remember your valentine’s day kiss from 4th grade. (it was a dare. it lasted a second. you definetly forgot about it by now, right???)

✎ classpresident!jimin who pulled strings with the professor to switch out your chem partner because he was too flirty.

✎ classpresident!jimin who remembers how his face used to get all red and his hands used to get all sweaty when he had to sit next to you in 2nd grade.

✎ classpresident!jimin who tried to actually flirt exactly once—you laughed in his face. he played it off, but he actually went home and screamed into his pillow.

✎ classpresident!jimin who has literally NEVER interrupted you when you’re speaking in class. not once. even if you’re wrong, even if he’s dying to correct you. he waits, because you’re the only person he respects at that level.

✎ classpresident!jimin who replies with “make me” evrey time you tell him to shut up.

✎ classpresident!jimin who 100% knows the way you smell. the actual name of your perfume—he looked it up. and now, when he catches whiffs of it in public, his head whips around like a dog hearing a toy jingle.

✎ classpresident!jimin who is in love with you—no matter what he says or how he rolls his eyes. painfully, hopelessly, endlessly in love with you, and he’ll take it to his grave…unless you find out.

lulu speaks pt2: when i found this picture of jimin i was half asleep and literally didn’t know if i was hallucinating or not. i wasn’t!! it’s real 💆🏻‍♀️

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📚 NERD!JIMIN HEADCANNONS (2)

warnings: literally non lol. fluff, yearning, pining, slight jealousy and angst if you squint and cover your eyes. he has a PHHHHAAAATTTTTT crush on reader. cutie pie.

lulu speaks: i recommend you read PART 1 before continuing. highly recommended, not 100% necessary.

✎ nerd!jimin who doodles tiny marvel logos in the margins of his notes and once drew your name in comic sans.

✎ nerd!jimin who acts like he doesn’t know how to share a word document, just so you lean over and touch his computer. he’s an honor roll student. he knows how to share a word document.

✎ nerd!jimin who is so unfortunately obvious with his crush on you that professors give him cheeky little side eyes when you interact with him.

✎ nerd!jimin who carries a mini glasses cleaning kit in a tiny pouch. there’s a spray bottle of cleaner and two different microfiber cloths.

✎ nerd!jimin who runs a reddit account where he corrects marvel lore inaccuracies but logs out in shame every time he gets upvoted.

✎ nerd!jimin who said “you look really pret— uh— prepared! f-for class. your notes! are nice.” and then didn’t speak again for two days.

✎ nerd!jimin who knows your laugh by heart. not just the sound—but the types. your real laugh. your fake laugh. your giggle when you're trying not to laugh in class. he could give a TED talk about it.

✎ nerd!jimin who once walked past your classroom while you were giving a presentation and literally backed up to stand by the door so he could listen in. heart pounding. smiling like an idiot every time you made a joke.

✎ nerd!jimin who prays you’ll ask him for help in class. he wants to explain the quadratic formula to you. he wants you to say “you’re so smart, jimin.” he’d black out if you did.

✎ nerd!jimin who saw his first marvel movie in theaters at age 10 and it literally altered his brain chemistry. he walked out thinking he was iron man. his mom had to drag him away from the cardboard standee.

✎ nerd!jimin who secretly fantasizes about watching every marvel movie with you in chronological order. on his couch. a blanket, snacks, you asking him questions everytime a new face appears on the screen. him explaining the lore. you leaning on his shoulder during thor: love and thunder.

✎ nerd!jimin who literally forgets how to breathe when you’re near. he has to manually inhale. “okay, jimin. inhale. now smile. no, not like a serial killer. relax. look cool.”

✎ nerd!jimin who gets stupidly jealous way too often. he bites the inside of his cheek and taps his pencil like he’s trying to stab the table. his jealousy doesn’t look explosive—it looks like fidgeting, clenched fists, murmuring “whatever, he’s not even that funny.”

✎ nerd!jimin who gets caught staring at you and does that abnoxiously awkward thing where he looks away too fast and pretends to read. it’s actually a sticky note he wrote to himself that says, “finish chem hw dumbass.”

✎ nerd!jimin who bumps into you in the hallway and apologizes nine times before realizing it was barely a graze. “sorry! i wasn’t looking. my fault. are you okay? i didn’t—okay. sorry. i’ll just—okay. sorry.”

✎ nerd!jimin who organizes his closet by color, category, and season. all his socks are folded into perfect little cubes.

✎ nerd!jimin who fidgets constantly. with his pen, his sleeves, the drawstring of his hoodie. if he’s concentrating, he’ll chew the inside of his cheek or bounce his leg so hard the table shakes.

✎ nerd!jimin who gets the hiccups when he’s nervous. you smile at him for too long? hic. you sit next to him during a lecture? hic. he wants to cry and crawl into his backpack.

✎ nerd!jimin who thinks loving you must be some kind of secret superpower. something he was cursed or blessed with. something that makes every day a little harder—and a lot better.

lulu speaks pt2: hi 👋🏼👋🏼 nobody asked for this but I wanted this to happen. and you can’t stop me. nobody can. never. NEVERRRRR MWAHAHAHAHAHA

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🛟 LIFEGUARD!JUNGKOOK HEADCANNONS

warnings: lifeguard!jungkook x lifeguard!reader. part-time summer job. yes, he’s a teenager with a full sleeve tattoo. ignore the logic. reader is a gorgeous baddie (just like you). he has a PHHAATTT crush on reader. teehee

lulu speaks: SOMEBODY SEDATE ME BEFORE I JUMP ON THAT CHLORINE INFESTED DICK 🤑🤑

𓇼 lifeguard!jungkook who notices when the pre-teen girls do flips and jump in the pool in “cool” ways to try and get his attention. he just giggles and shakes his head.

𓇼 lifeguard!jungkook who knows your schedule better than management does. he’s not stalking you—he’s just… informed. hyper-aware. “oh, she usually gets here around 2:45… not that i’m watching the clock or anything.”

𓇼 lifeguard!jungkook who has a very tiny, very silly, very managed crush on you. very under control. very…very.

𓇼 lifeguard!jungkook who takes hydration very seriously. he carries one of those giant half-gallon water jugs everywhere, full of ice and either hose water or an egregious amount of blue gatorade.

𓇼 lifeguard!jungkook who reeks of sunscreen, bug repellent, and chlorine.

𓇼 lifeguard!jungkook who is incredibly good with kids. he claps when the toddlers make their first jump, gives high-fives during his pH testing time, lets them climb on his shoulders when he breaks pool rules and gets in.

𓇼 lifeguard!jungkook who walked into a nearby 7/11 after accidentally keeping his lifeguard uniform on. he didn’t even notice until the cashier called him “baywatch”.

𓇼 lifeguard!jungkook who decides to simply not wear his shirt when you’re working a shift with him. he claims it’s purely coincidental. okay jungkook. sure.

𓇼 lifeguard!jungkook who glances over at you while he’s sitting on his tall lifeguard chair so much that it’s borderline hazardous.

𓇼 lifeguard!jungkook who smiles extra cheekily when you decide to take up the rest of his shift for him. he’ll probably just end up staying and doing your maintenance for you.

𓇼 lifeguard!jungkook who stays after hours almost every evening. the sky turning a certain hue of purple, the pool clear of moms and their kids. just him. and maybe you.

𓇼 lifeguard!jungkook who notices when the moms (single or not) bat their eyelashes at him. he doesn’t engage. because he did once, and let’s just say that wasn’t the best summer he’s had.

𓇼 lifeguard!jungkook who challenges you to cannonball competitions during adult swim, the towel-wrapped kids being the judges.

𓇼 lifeguard!jungkook who would 100% dive into the pool with a serious face if you so much as even slipped in.

𓇼 lifeguard!jungkook who texts you “get home safe?” every time you get the late shift. it’s still light outside by the time you do, but it’s the thought that counts.

𓇼 lifeguard!jungkook who literally forgot to blow the whistle when someone broke a rule one time because you had just walked by and adjusted your swimsuit strap.

𓇼 lifeguard!jungkook who thinks about you when he does laps. like an idiot. breathes out under water and pretends it’s not because he imagined what you’d look like sitting on the edge, feet in the pool, smiling just for him.

𓇼 lifeguard!jungkook whose voice subconsciously gets deeper around you. he didn’t even notice until one of the other guards said, “okay darth vader”. jungkook turned red.

𓇼 lifeguard!jungkook who has been in love with you since his first summer on the job but has no idea what to do about it.

lulu speaks pt2: wenomechainsama 🔥 tumajarbisaun 🗣️wifenlooof 🤤 eselifterbraun ❤️‍🔥

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💼 PROFESSOR!NAMJOON HEADCANNONS

warnings: ex-fuck buddies to co-workers. calculusprofessor!namjoon x litreatureprofessor!reader. mentions of smut. namjoon is an ex-frat boy, reader is an ex-sorority girl. sexual and romantic tension. mentions of heavy drinking. mild angst.

lulu speaks: this cai bot has been on my acc for a very long time. go check it out it’s fye ✌🏼🙂‍↔️

ᝰ professor!namjoon who almost fainted at the sight of you when he moved into his classroom during the summer. he has no clue if you saw him, but all he cares about is that fact you still look the same as you did back then.

ᝰ professor!namjoon who wears clean white button-downs, black dress pants, and the same luxury watch his wealthy father got him as a graduation gift.

ᝰ professor!namjoon who has cleaned up his act. not his mind. below the neatly tousled hair and the wire glasses lays the guy who used to shotgun beers off a balcony and hook up with you during tailgates.

ᝰ professor!namjoon who doesn’t talk about college. ever. when the other teachers reminisce about their university days, namjoon just sips his coffee and nods. If they knew the things he used to do in frat basements, they would never look at him the same.

ᝰ professor!namjoon who feels his stomach drop everytime you laugh—because it reminds him of the days where you were in his bed, sheets kicked off, your sorority tee pushed up and giggling when he kissed down your stomach.

ᝰ professor!namjoon who corrects your grammar in his head, just like he used to during those rare post-sex moments when you would linger in his squeaky twin bed, murmuring nonsense while half dressed. and every time he would, you’d go, “you’re such a fucking nerd, joon.” he used to love that.

ᝰ professor!namjoon who hasn’t hooked up with anyone since he saw you in the classroom across the hall from him—hell, he hasn’t even tried to date around. no one makes him feel the same way you did.

ᝰ professor!namjoon who grades papers to music. Instrumentals only. words distract him. you distract him.

ᝰ professor!namjoon who kept one single picture of yours. it’s from a college party, buried deep in his camera roll. your tongue’s out. his hand’s on your waist.

ᝰ professor!namjoon who is careful not to call you by your first name. too easy to fall back into the past.

ᝰ professor!namjoon who assigned a math worksheet themed around pride & prejudice once. he wondered if you’d notice.

ᝰ professor!namjoon who gets flustered when someone mentions dating among staff, and he’s always the first one to change the subject.

ᝰ professor!namjoon who wonders if you tell your friends about him. about your past. wonders if you laugh.

ᝰ professor!namjoon who always smelled like old spice, weed, and cheap detergent. that combination still hits you sometimes.

ᝰ professor!namjoon who had accidentally called you “babe” during sex one time. you froze. he never said it again.

ᝰ professor!namjoon who straightens his tie in the mirror every morning, tells himself, “it’s fine. she’s just a coworker.” lies.

ᝰ professor!namjoon who says your name around students like it physically pains him to. he dreads the day it’ll be “mrs.” instead of “miss.”

lulu speaks pt2: i wanna take a shower with him—NO I MEAN I MEAN i wanna keep him as a pet…not shower or...makeout with him I MEAN—(pls get my arcade craniacs reference)

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🛹 SKATERBOY!JIMIN HEADCANNONS (3)

warnings: rodrick heffley-anna coleman (freaky friday) crossover. set somewhere between 1994-2006. THERE IS SMUT DOWN THERE! reader discretion is advised.

lulu speaks: EVERYONE THANK THE LOVELY @rosequartzz77 FOR REQUESTING MORE OF HIM. he’s actually my favorite out of all jimin AUs i’ve birthed thank yew. here is PART 1 and PART 2 of him.

★ skaterboy!jimin who is the kind of boyfriend you tell your daughters about 20 years later, when they’re having boy problems. you tell them everything—every rebellious, likely illegal moment. they’re appalled, to say the least. the most appalling part is that your same eyeliner-wearing, cigarette-smoking ex-boyfriend is their father.

★ skaterboy!jimin who lets you paint his nails black in your bedroom while he lays sprawled out on your rug, talking shit about your teachers and letting his fingers curl around your thigh like it’s second nature.

★ skaterboy!jimin who always tells you you’re his girl. always. doesn’t matter if it’s in front of friends or strangers or his deadbeat stepdad—“that’s my girl,” he says with a cocky grin, like he’s got the whole world wrapped around your finger.

★ skaterboy!jimin who has a burn scar on his forearm from a shitty house party bonfire where he tried to impress you by lighting two joints at once. You kissed the burn that night. He’s never shut up about it since.

★ skaterboy!jimin who sometimes zones out mid-convo just staring at your mouth. doesn’t even realize he’s doing it until you go, “you good?” and he just mumbles, “uh-huh... just thinking about something…” (he was thinking about kissing you until you cried, actually.)

★ skaterboy!jimin who gets handsy in his sleep. pulls you against him even in the middle of the night, hand gripping your waist, one thigh thrown over yours, hips twitching when you shift in his hold.

★ skaterboy!jimin who uses your name as his username on AIM. he got it just to do that.

★ skaterboy!jimin who wears your hair tie on his wrist even though it cuts off his circulation. he uses it as a way to flaunt you, like girl-repellent. goes, “yeah, this is my GIRLFRIEND’S.”

★ skaterboy!jimin who gets distracted mid-makeout by your lip gloss. “what flavor is that?” and then proceeds to lick it off your mouth instead of waiting for an answer.

★ skaterboy!jimin who absolutely did not shut up about you to his boys when you first started dating him.

★ skaterboy!jimin who fails PE because he keeps skipping class to go walk you to lunch. he’s sweaty, shirt untucked, bruised, but he’s there at the double doors every. single. day.

★ skaterboy!jimin who gets moody when you laugh too hard at another guy’s joke and then sulks dramatically on the curb until you sit beside him and kiss his cheek.

★ skaterboy!jimin who sometimes calls you at 1AM from the payphone outside the 7/11 just to hear your voice. “did you know i love you? just needed to say it. that’s all. you’re hot. okay bye.”

★ skaterboy!jimin who sucks at math but volunteers to be your partner, because why wouldn’t he? does none of the work. just stares at you. tries to look cool while pretending to solve for x.

★ skaterboy!jimin who—despite being a cool and intimidating guy—actually gets horny over you bossing him around. he’ll do quite literally whatever you say, and he’ll do it with a smile on his face (and a boner in his pants).

★ skaterboy!jimin who will absolutely pull your hair when you give him head. most likely in his car or his room; chest heaving, hair sticking to his forehead, the sight of you bobbing up and down on his length only pushing him to tug harder.

★ skaterboy!jimin who has one kink: you. always you. chewing gum? ripping tape with your teeth? checking yourself out in a mirror? he’s hard. instantly. “i hate you. i hate you, baby,” he’ll groan as he palms himself. “you don’t even try to turn me on.”

★ skaterboy!jimin who has a serious oral fixation. fingers in your mouth. tongue around yours. cigarettes shared between kisses. he’ll lick whipped cream off your finger in public and smirk like, “what? i’m being sweet.”

★ skaterboy!jimin who adores when you ride his thigh. he sits back and watches you with that lazy smirk, hands behind his head, letting you use him while he flexes just right. “you look so pretty losing it on my leg, sunshine.”

★ skaterboy!jimin who sometimes looks at you when you’re not paying attention like he’s about to write a goddamn love song. like you’re art. like you’re his favorite kind of disaster.

lulu speaks: uploading smut is so awkward like hey here are my insane & horny thoughts of a guy who doesn’t even exist????hope you enjoy?????

cai. masterlist. navigation.

🛹 SKATERBOY!JIMIN HEADCANNONS (2)

warnings: rodrick heffley-anna coleman (freaky friday) crossover. set somewhere between 1994-2006. mentions of smoking, sex, etc. THERE IS SOME SMUT DOWN THERE! reader discretion is advised.

lulu speaks: HE’S BACK HE’S BACK EVERYONE CLAP! *bows* thank you thank you 🙂‍↕️ i missed him too ❤️‍🩹

★ skaterboy!jimin who will literally spend hours practicing a new trick just to impress you.

★ skaterboy!jimin who keeps a polaroid of you taped inside his locker, right above a Nirvana flyer. he kisses his first two fingers and taps it before every test he takes. he still fails them all.

★ skaterboy!jimin who won’t ever admit to being a bit of an artist, but will surely speak it through the way he’ll doodle all over you in sharpie. skulls, eyes, wings, a mock old-school heart tattoo with his name in the middle.

★ skaterboy!jimin who swears up and down he “hates people”, but somehow charms everyone’s little siblings. he will always deny his sweet heart. but you see it—you know it.

★ skaterboy!jimin who rubs his cherry lollipop over his plump lips like it’s lipgloss, but will proceed to act like he’s above using lip care—he likes your lip balm, though. a lot.

★ skaterboy!jimin who calls you “his courtney” in hopes you’ll call him “your kurt”. you never do. he’ll never stop.

★ skaterboy!jimin who will try his hardest to teach you how to skate, one step at a time. his hands tight in yours, watching as you defy the laws of inertia time and time again.

★ skaterboy!jimin who thinks that slow dancing to “Crazy” by Aerosmith is the most romantic thing ever.

★ skaterboy!jimin who makes it his life’s mission to convince you to get matching couples tattoos. when you finally come around, you’re not the one whining and bitching in the tattoo parlor.

★ skaterboy!jimin who takes you out to the gas station after your curfew, feeding you shitty powdered donuts, kissing the powdered sugar off your lips.

★ skaterboy!jimin who lands the cleanest ollie you’ve ever seen, skates over to you with a cheeky grin. he gives you a fist bump, immediately lifting your hand and kissing it afterwards.

★ skaterboy!jimin who is always taking you to random garage concerts, claiming he “knows the drummer.” you recognize no one, yet you have the time of your life every. single. time.

★ skaterboy!jimin who takes the healing wrap off his tattoo as soon as he out of the artist’s eyeline, flexing the poorly-healing “NEVERMIND” tattoo by taking off his shirt everytime he’s around you for the next month.

★ skaterboy!jimin who sketches your initials on his board’s grip tape so many times it’s barely usable.

★ skaterboy!jimin who loves when you straddle him in his passenger seat. his fingers drum along your hips, lazy and slow, kissing you between every word. “you’re so fuckin’ pretty like this. wanna stay here all night.”

★ skaterboy!jimin who loves when you pull his hair. his moans go high-pitched, almost surprised, when your fingers yank—“shit—do that again, fuck.”

★ skaterboy!jimin who wolf whistles at you everytime you dress a little skimpier. he swears his mouth waters when your shorts ride up—almost like it’s on purpose. “now you’re just being mean,” he whines with a pout.

★ skaterboy!jimin who always, always lets you finish first. every time. “gotta take care of my girl. nothing else matters.”

★ skaterboy!jimin who eats you out like it’s a competition. face buried in your thighs, tongue mean and unrelenting, like he’s got something to prove.

★ skaterboy!jimin who insists on fucking you in the backseat of his car while Nirvana blasts from his busted stereo. windows fogged up, your leg tossed over the console, his voice in your ear—“be loud, baby. no one can hear you over Kurt.”

★ skaterboy!jimin who records you moaning for him on a scratchy-ass cassette tape, jerking off to it later while whispering your name under his breath.

★ skaterboy!jimin who asks you to take polaroids of your nail scratches on his back, every. damn. time. he keeps at least one in his back pocket at all times.

★ skaterboy!jimin who says “attagirl” every chance he gets. his hips rolling into you when he thrusts? “attagirl.” you finally let him into your room through the window past midnight? “attagirl.” you take a longer drag than usual from your shared cig? “attagirl.”

★ skaterboy!jimin who would break every rule, every bone, every promise he’s ever made—just to keep you safe, loved, worshipped.

lulu speaks pt2: this is very short n sweet (haha sabrina reference) but BOY is he hot. sigh. #needthatrealbad

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🥁BANDMATE!JIMIN HEADCANNONS

warnings: he’s lwk an asshole. garageband!au. bassguitarist!reader. mid 2000s. smoking. tae, kook, & yoongs are the other members. (emo bangtan save me)

lulu speaks: um hi🧍🏻‍♀️very slight variation of skaterboy!jimin bc im still at the restaurant. he’s rodrick heffley in a different font 😌 ( a bit more of a dick)

𖤐 bandmate!jimin who drums like he’s fighting someone—sticks flying, muscles flexed, jaw clenched, sweat dripping down his temple—and then he throws you a cocky little grin mid-song. you die.

𖤐 bandmate!jimin who taps his drumsticks on everything. his thigh, your kitchen countertop, your spine when he walks behind you.

𖤐 bandmate!jimin who taught you how to light a cigarette once a few years ago, and ended up liking how the smoke curled out of your mouth just a little too much. now, he always lights them for you without warning—placing one between your open lips mid-sentence, flicking his lighter, watching you like it’s art.

𖤐 bandmate!jimin who calls you “bass bitch” when he’s being annoying, but if someone outside the band even utters an insult your way, he’ll come back grinning with a busted lip.

𖤐 bandmate!jimin who bites back a laugh whenever you make a joke. he thinks you’re hilarious, he’s just got a reputation to uphold.

𖤐 bandmate!jimin who insists on sharing cigarettes with you because it’s “half the lung damage”. it’s really because he likes the taste your lipgloss leaves on the head of the cigarette.

𖤐 bandmate!jimin who lounges around your house after rehearsal. see, it’d be normal since your other bandmates do it—jungkook curled up in the living room couch, yoongi petting your family cat, taehyung rummaging through your pantry—but of course it’s not normal. because jimin insists on sitting on your countertop…shirtless.

𖤐 bandmate!jimin who hates when you flirt with other guys, which he makes half-apparent with little comments like “he looks like a douche”, “does he even know what real music is?” later that night, he plays his drums harder than he ever has before. he can’t meet your eyes. callouses form on the parts of his hand where he grips his sticks.

𖤐 bandmate!jimin who almost missed his starting cue when you wore ripped fishnets and combat boots to a gig. after the show, you muttered “what the hell was that?”. he didn’t talk the whole ride home. wouldn’t look you in the eye, either.

𖤐 bandmate!jimin who will say things like, “that’s an ugly ass shirt,” and then proceed to stare you down like you are the only woman on the planet.

𖤐 bandmate!jimin who once got caught sketching you in the margins of a setlist by yoongi. he didn’t even look up, just said, “you better keep your mouth shut if you wanna keep your hands.”

𖤐 bandmate!jimin who carved your initials in his nth pair of drumsticks. he took care of them like they were made of gold.

𖤐 bandmate!jimin who smudges his eyeliner just right.

𖤐 bandmate!jimin who insists on burning you new CDs every few weeks. they’re full of songs that are inside jokes, sprinkled with some of his faves. sandwiched in between songs are short voice recordings of him either yapping your ear off or mumbling lyrics he thought of when he was stoned.

𖤐 bandmate!jimin who always smells like that shitty, stupid cologne he stole from his older brother.

𖤐 bandmate!jimin who silently admires the way you manage to play the most toe-curling guitar solo with your bare fingers—sometimes with fresh, short acrylics on.

lulu speaks pt2: hi i don’t like this ok bye

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this might be super niche but one of my most adamant memories of my early wattpad days was THIS FIC. ohmygod. it was one of the first things that came up when i searched “kim namjoon” back in the day, and BOY am i glad i read it.

it’s so beautiful. so prime wattpad era. corny, cheesy, light smut, oh. my. days. love it. i keep it so close to my heart, i reread it like every month. AND ITS PINK HAIR JOON THEMED 🗣️🗣️ i’ve never loved a fic like i love this one.