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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

(this is for the 61.5% of the 52 voters who favored in have a graphic designers for the visuals for their stories! ♡︎)

I’m a graphic designer who is willing to bring together your ideas in order to enhance your stories! (With the additional perk of reduced work duration)

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞:

⇝ 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐬

⇝ 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐛𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬

⇝ 𝐏𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐮

⇝ 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐂𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬

𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐒:

—————————ミ★ ————————

If interested please feel free to message me on tumblr @0rangesuga or Instagram @ vital.tae

Thanks so much for voting on my poll 🫶

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

if anyone’s wondering what post of oc’s made him get so riled up(?)

fic : back to you

timeline : post before she left for the trip that made things messier between them

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────

'back to you' coming on Wednesday 16/04 — 10 pm EST !

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.

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.

BACK TO YOU ⋆ JJK

TEASER ; brief.

˖ ࿐ two souls, one storm to weather—need.

the yearning to turn on the tip of pointed heels, with much urgency, and go back into the same cycle that once made the both of your timbers shiver. resolve crackle.

he, who never wished to serve whatever you craved on a platter.

you, who knew how to bring him back every single time.

back to you.

OUT NOW.

category : ONESHOT/ TWO-SHOT word count : 5k+ [edits yet to be made] starring : drummer!jk, trust fund baby!oc tags/warnings : smut. dry humping [more will be specified in the fic], reader and jungkook are emotionally very wrecked individuals— oc more [lmao she's kind of an ass, but he's not any better], not quite friends with benefits (basically js benefits), oc is a rich spoilt brat who thinks she has the world at her feet. kook's in a band— jimin and hyunjin cameo. it's my drummer!jk fantasies that led to this. so he's a walking warning.

snippet wc : 164

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

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 enough, you hear your favorite 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.

Main course coming right up.

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?”