Follow Your Passion: A Seamless Tumblr Journey
Baby Girl | Q&A
The characters have been through a lot, and now they’re ready to answer your burning questions. Whether you’re curious about their pasts, their wildest thoughts, or just want to know what’s going through their heads in the moment, drop your questions below or in my inbox and see what they have to say. No question is too big, too small, or too weird! So, what are you waiting for? Ask away!
Baby Girl
Pairing: DILF!Jungkook x PreSchool Teacher!Reader
Synopsis: You always gave yourself one rule, never fall for a single dad. It would be messy and you’d never be his number one. So why did your favourite kid’s dad have to be so hot?
Warnings: fluff, talks of child abandonment, single father JK, angst, arguments, smut, penetrative sex, oral (m and f receiving), light spanking, hair pulling, make outs, kissing, fingering, clit play, clit stimulation, teasing, pet names, mentions of past relationships, dom!jungkook, big cock!jungkook, blonde!jungkook, talks of past pregnancy (not reader), mention of abortion (JK’s ex), sexual tension, alcohol consumption, thigh riding, masturbation, aftercare, swearing, praising, a bit of jealousy, hickeys, handjob, protected sex, rough and soft sex, overstimulation, and multiple orgasms
______________________________________________________________
“Why are you trying to feed Sara the crayon!” You squealed from your spot behind your desk, swiftly approaching the small circle table holding the kids before taking the purple crayon from Ara’s tiny hands. The small girl’s large brown eyes stared back at you, a smile breaking out onto her lips as she began giggling and babbling about the drawing she made for her dad.
“Look! Daddy has a pur..pur-el shirt cebause he love pur-el!” Ara pointed excitedly to the shirt she drew on her stickfigure, pride glowing in her eyes.
Your smile grew as your grip around the crayon loosened, placing it back down on the table, crouching between her and Sara’s little chairs. “Now that’s gorgeous, Ara! Your dad is gonna love it so much, but how about we stop trying to feed our friends crayons?” She giggled, agreeing before going back to her art. It was true, Ara’s dad, Jeon Jungkook, treasured every single thing she made for him. Every time she would run up to him after school, hands reaching up to him with a new little project every day. One day it was a flower that had things we were grateful for written on the petals, other days it was just a little drawing she made, or it was a seasonal art project. And she never failed to tell you all about his reactions the next day.
Every day you would watch all your students run to their parents coming to pick them up at lunch, most stopped to say ‘Hi’ or ask how their kid was doing - Jungkook never did that. It seemed odd at first, wanting to meet your student’s dad to introduce yourself and get acquainted was a normal thing most teachers did. However, you started noticing pretty early on he hung out near the back of the group of parents that waited near the doors, waiting for Ara, getting her, and then looking at you with a little smile before leaving. Why did he do that? The small pleas for help to get their coats on before the bell filled your classroom, the children still mingling and talking, some cleaning up their tables, but most ready to up and leave as the bell rings. After making sure all the kids had their belongings, you told them to line up, “One, two, three! Eyes on me!” You called out, watching all their little bug eyes look back at you. The small action made a smile spread across your face each time - how could it not? There are about fifteen pairs of eyes that look at you at the same time, with the same little focused expression. It’s impossible not to smile!
Everyone crowded at the door, talking in soft whispers as they waited for you to open it and let them run off to their parents. You let the children run in different directions, enjoying the happy chatter around you as people began leaving. Just as you were about to head into the school again, you felt a little tug on your sleeve, making you look down. “ Miss L/n, daddy’s not here…”
Her little voice trailed off and it instantly made you go into protective mode. You crouched in front of her, holding her small hand as you observed how her big boba eyes got glossy and her little button nose got red. It was a rare sight seeing Ara cry, she almost never did in your class unless it was something truly meaningful to her. “Shh, it’s okay, Ara. Your dad probably got caught up in something! How about we wait here until he arrives, hm?” You offered, wiping away the small tears that dropped down her cheeks, her head nodding softly as you stood up and held her hand outside.
Twenty minutes pass and nothing. It was unlike Jungkook to be late, every day you could see his car park in the same spot under a tree, getting out and adjusting his jacket before taking a few steps…then pausing beside his car to lock it three times. Now that you think about it, you sound kinda stalker-ish with how much attention you pay to him. The air started getting cooler, so you took Ara back inside the classroom, thankful that you had an hour break before your afternoon class showed up. “Are you warm? You can take your jacket off, Ara. Do you want some paper to draw?”
Her head was tilted down as she sat in her normal seat near the cozy corner you had set up for your students, not really answering your questions. “Did daddy leave me?” She asked, her tiny fingers picking at her other ones as she asked.
Sourness filled your heart as you heard her question, you pulled out the small chair beside her, tilting your head to see her face. “Honey, of course he didn’t leave you. He’s just running late for some reason. Why would you think that?”
“Mommy did…” Her words were cut off by sudden footsteps approaching the class quickly, a man hunched over huffing and puffing like he had just ran a marathon. “Oh god, I’m so sorry, baby.” He said, still gasping for air as he approached us, kneeling down on her other side.
Her mom left? You stood up, straightening out your cardigan as you stared down at the man pressing his forehead against Ara’s jacket covered arm. “Ara, I’m sorry, daddy had to close up the shop cause your uncles weren’t there. I’m sorry, bug.” Wow, he apologized a lot, even though Ara had already probably forgotten about what happened. Her bright little smile was there again, brightening the room as his large…tattooed hand caressed the opposite arm.
“Daddy! Look what I made!” Ara exclaimed, showing her dad her little portrait of her and her dad, wearing his purple shirt.
“Wow, I love it, baby girl! It’s so me. You know where this is going?” The way they both said “on the fridge” at the exact same time would make any woman’s ovaries burst. It was too cute! Ara’s dad stood up, rubbing his hands on the back of his pants before looking at you, staring blankly before his eyes widened and a hand was out stretched. “Sorry! I’m Jungkook, Jeon Jungkook! Ara’s dad, cause she has the same last name as me, but not only that reason! Her mom and I-” He stopped, his cheeks tinting a light red as you grasped his hand, shaking it with furrowed brows. “I’m gonna stop talking before I make it worse.”
“No, no, please. I always enjoy hearing about how parents are related to their child.” You laughed, releasing his hand again - eyes gleaming from the way his cheeks darkened in colour again. “It’s honestly okay, Mr. Jeon. Ara and I had a feeling something came up at work and that’s why you were late.”
The sigh of relief that escaped him must have been in him for a while, his whole body relaxing a little more after you said that. “Thank you for looking after her. This won’t happen again, at all. Uhm..Ms…?”
“Oh! Sorry, Y/n. Y/n L/n, Ara’s teacher. Since she’s in my class.” You over explained just like he did, thankfully he had a sense of humor since he let out a soft breathy laugh. “Again, don’t worry at all, I understand. Things happen sometimes.” You eased him, smiling gently as he grabbed Ara’s little hand, helping her out of her chair.
“Yeah…but thank you…still.” He said one last time, leaning down to pick his daughter up before propping her on his hip. Her little hand went to his hair immediately, tugging softly as he pulled his head away, smiling at her. They left the room, chatting softly as he walked back down the hall to exit through the front office. Sitting at your desk, you opened your computer, preparing your slideshow for your afternoon class on how to make a pretty sunset with pastels, but the only thing you could think about…
He had really pretty hair.
______________________________________________________________
“Wait, wait, wait- rewind. You’re telling me that you were face to face with a DILF and did nothing?!” Rose practically yelled as you walked together down the hall towards the parking lot.
“Okay, let’s not call him that…he’s still the father of my student. It feels wrong calling him something so…vulgar?” You squeemed while fumbling for your keys. “Plus, what was I supposed to do? His kid was right there, it’s not like I could’ve just jumped his bones right there.”
She glanced at you from the corner of her eyes, a small smirk on her lips as she grabbed her own keys out of her bag. “Well, I’m just saying, maybe he would’ve been into that. Having you get all up on him, nice and close and just-” You shoved her away playfully, laughing as you watched her mimic some sort of makeout session.
“There is no way that would've happened! Again, Rose, you’re forgetting this was the first time I’ve ever actually talked to the guy. It’s not like some magical thing is gonna happen to make us instantly fall in love.” She pushed open the doors to the front office, a shiver running down your spine as the cool breeze hit your face. You unlocked your car, standing by the driver’s door as you spoke again. “This is real life, not some romance book that’s gonna have me sweeped off my feet by the end of it.”
“Yeah, yeah…” She waved a dismissive hand, opening her car door before poking her head out again. “I’m just saying, it’s been a while for you since you’ve dated, so why not try out the awkward, DILF of a dad?”
“Have a good night, Rose.”
All you could hear was her laughter as you got in and closed your own door.
______________________________________________________________
Mondays are the worst.
It’s almost like a sick joke - you wake up and feel like it’s gonna be a productive day, but instead, your makeup looked trashy, your favourite shirt that you were supposed to wear today had a stain on it, your coffee machine was broken, and your car wouldn’t start for a good twenty minutes.
So yeah, it’s a lovely day.
“I am so sorry, Rose! Thank you for watching over my class, I swear I’ll be there soon.” You rambled quickly, looking both ways on the road before taking a left.
“Girl, relax, it’s okay. Could you pick me up a coffee though? Didn’t have time to make my own today.” You could hear her shuffling around, probably in your desk to find the spelling sheets you had ready for your students.
“Of course, I was gonna pick one up anyway.” Your voice came out as a murmur, trying to focus on the road so you didn’t add another problem to your list of issues today.
There was some sort of sound that came from her side of the call, something between a hum and squeal of delight. “There’s one coffee place that’s not too far from the school, The Quiet Bean, reaaaaally cute place!”
The Quiet Bean? People are getting creative nowadays…After a few more minutes of talking - you telling her what she should start the kids on, and her telling you where the shop is - you finally hung up. Plugging in the address of the coffee shop, you pulled up to a small shop. It was the sort of place that invited you in without making a scene. Its façade was a blend of weathered brick and soft, taupe-painted wood, the kind that had aged gracefully, like it had stories to tell. The large windows were framed in simple, cream-colored trim, their panes reflecting the faintest light of the afternoon sun. A faint trace of ivy crept up along the edges, as if nature itself had taken a liking to this quiet little corner of the world.
The café’s sign hung above the door, a modest wooden board with the name The Quiet Bean painted in elegant, flowing script. The letters, accented by a small, delicate illustration of a steaming coffee cup, as though to beckon you inside with the promise of something warm and comforting. It wasn’t flashy, but there was something undeniably welcoming about it, something that whispered of calm moments and good company.
As you stepped closer, the faint scent of lavender and earth drifted from a row of mismatched flower boxes, their colors a soft mix of greens and purples. Small, bistro-style tables were scattered outside, their wrought-iron chairs empty for now, but ready to welcome anyone looking to enjoy the sun with a cup in hand.
Pulling the door open, you were met with a strong scent of freshly brewed coffee and pastries. Your eyes widened as you looked around, taking in the detail of the shop and taking note of every little detail that was put into building it. You slowly approached the counter, eyes trained on the display of sweets. God, they looked delicious. It was as if everywhere you turned there was something new you noticed - now, it was the simple yet captivating writing on the menu board that hung above the counter. Why was writing captivating you? Nevermind.
You glanced around, a few people were sitting at tables, enjoying a warm coffee with a sweet treat, but no one behind the counter. Your brows furrowed softly, tilting your head to try and see if someone was lingering behind the walkway to the back of the coffee shop, but there was no one. You reached forward, tapping the small bell that sat beside one of the pastry display cases, the high pitched shrill sound making you jump slightly.
A guy, wiping his hands on the towel that hung from his apron quickly rounded the corner. His blonde hair tied into a small bun as he looked up. Those eyes…the wide doe ones that seemed all too familiar. The ones that held the universe…where had you seen them before? “Welcome to The Quiet Bea-” The man’s voice cut off as he stood there staring at you, his round eyes widening slightly. “M-Ms. Y/n…what…you’re…”
It clicked. Those eyes, the ones you have to look at every single day, the same ones Ara had. “Mr. Jeon, it’s…uhm, hello.” Why was this so embarrassing? This was just like when you saw a teacher outside of school and didn’t know how to act. Holy hell. “Sorry…sorry, good morning.”
His cheeks tinted a light pink, the sound of him clearing his throat sounded through the small cafe, you watched him cringe from the sound. “G-Good morning…I’m sorry, I just wasn’t expecting…never mind.” He shook his head, a few strands of his blonde hair framing his face as he approached the cash register. “What can I get for you?”
“Just two lattes please.” You smiled, gaze wandering off to the side as you eyed the pastries again. As if on cue, your stomach rumbled, causing you to freeze and Jungkook to glance up at you from the register. A soft chuckle escaped his lips as he leaned forward on the counter, a small tilt to his head. “Did you maybe want some food, too? Our pistachio croissants are really good, if I do say so myself.”
Now it was your turn to turn pink, a sheepish smile spreading across your face as you nodded. “I’ll take two of those, too, please.” He nodded, a smile still lingering on his face as he used the tons to grab out two of the fresh croissants. Placing the bag on the counter, he turned his back to you as he started on the coffees.
As you stood there, it was hard not to notice how wide his back was. It was the perfect size to his waist which was - surprisingly - small. And not to mention the way his shirt hugged his chest and torso, there was practically nothing left for the imagination, there was even a teasingly small amount of tattoos shown that littered his right hand, and you just knew there were more. Maybe Mondays aren't so bad. I mean, you got to see that perfect ass- okay, no. Stop it! That is still your student's dad!
He turned around, two coffees in hand as he placed them on the counter, tapping something into the register before telling you your total. You pulled out your card, tapping it on the card machine before situating yourself to grab everything. “Uh…I don’t mean to be, like, that one parent…but why is the teacher of my daughter here getting coffee when school has already started?”
“Oh, so you were one of the kids that was always on time to class.” You said with a small smile, looking down into your wallet as you placed your card back into its proper place. “I was having a bad morning, running late. But my friend, who’s a teacher as well, is watching over my class. She wanted a coffee.” You wiggled your finger at the cup, a smile on your face that wouldn’t go away for some reason.
It was impossible not to giggle at the way his brows furrowed and his bottom lip pouted from your comment. “I was not ‘one of those kids.’” He crossed his arms, looking at you as you grabbed the coffees and bag that held your pastries. “If it means anything…I hope you have a better day.” His voice was like honey, something so sweet, you never wanted it to disappear.
“Thank you…I hope the same for you, Mr. Jeon.”
“Please, call me Jungkook!” Even his smile was sweet…fuck.
Just as you were about to exit the shop, you turned, using your back to push the door open. “Alright then, Jungkook. And call me, Y/n…I’m not your teacher.” Your last words left him going red again, and to your unease, it was a sight you wouldn’t mind seeing again. ______________________________________________________________
As the warm afternoon sunlight streamed through the windows of your classroom, casting a comforting glow over the tidy rows of desks, Rose settled into the chair across from you, a concerned expression etched on her face. The air was filled with the faint scent of chalk and the distant hum of the air conditioning vent.
"Y/n, you're not going to tell me what's going on, are you?" Rose asked, her voice gentle but probing. You hesitated, fidgeting with the edge of the paper bag as you took a bite of your croissant. Damn they were good. They were alone in the classroom during their lunch break, the door locked securely behind them.
Rose's eyes narrowed as she watched your flustered movements. "Come on, spill it," she urged, her voice a gentle coaxing. You took another bite, your eyes avoiding Rose's inquiring gaze. "It's just...I saw Jungkook at the coffee shop this morning…Ara’s dad," you mumbled around a mouthful of food, eyes darting back to Rose.
Rose's eyebrows shot up. "That coffee shop? Where you got our lattes?" You nodded, your cheeks flushing. Rose's expression turned thoughtful as she leaned in, her voice taking on a conspiratorial tone. "So you saw Hot DILF again?"
Your eyes widened in alarm, hastily causing you to look around the room as if ensuring they were truly alone. "Rose, please, don't say that out loud," You whispered, voice laced with a mixture of embarrassment and fear. Rose chuckled, her eyes sparkling with amusement.
"What's wrong? You're not going to date him, are you?" It was almost as if this was the day you couldn’t stop blushing. Your face turned bright red as you hastily shook her head, your ponytail bobbing in time. "Of course not, I'm just...I'm just saying, he's a great guy, from what I’ve seen, but...but it's just a rule, you know?" Your words tumbled out in a rush, your voice growing more agitated by the second.
Rose's expression turned to understanding, and she reached out to place a reassuring hand on your arm. "I get it, I really do. You've always said no to dating single parents, and I respect that. But...it's just so hard when you're around him, isn't it?" Your eyes dropped, looking away, your face burning with a mix of embarrassment and longing.
Rose's gentle words hung in the air, and you felt your heart racing as you tried to process her emotions. You couldn't deny it - you had felt a flutter in her chest when you saw Jungkook, and it wasn't just because you were worried about being professional around him. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down and rationalize your feelings.
"I don't know, Rose," You said finally, voice barely above a whisper. "It's just...he's really nice, and easy to talk to...it's just hard to ignore the fact that he's Ara’s dad."
Rose nodded understandingly, her expression sympathetic. "I know, I know. And it's not like you can just...ignore the fact that he's cute, either," she added with a sly smile, her eyes sparkling with amusement.
You playfully rolled your eyes, trying to deflect the attention from your flustered state. "Yeah, real help, Rose. You're not making this any easier for me."
Rose laughed, her eyes shining with mirth. "Sorry, sorry. I just want you to be happy, and if that means being around Mr. Hot DILF...I mean, Jungkook...then so be it."
A smile spread across your face, feeling a warmth spread through her chest at her words. "Thanks, Rose. You're a good friend."
As they chatted, you couldn't help but think about Jungkook's warm smile and gentle laugh. You pushed the thoughts away, reminding yourself of the rule and the reasons behind it. But you couldn't shake the feeling that you had crossed a line, and that your attraction to Jungkook was more than just a harmless infatuation.
The lunch bell rang, shattering the peaceful atmosphere in the classroom. As they made their way to the classroom door, Rose leaned in, her voice low and conspiratorial. "Hey, Y/n? Just out of curiosity...what do you think would happen if you did date him?"
Your eyes widened in alarm, and you quickly shot Rose a warning glance. "Rose, don't even say that. I already told you I'm not going to date him, so let's just drop it, okay?"
Rose held up her hands in mock surrender. "Okay, okay. No more talking about Jungkook. Let's just focus on surviving through the day and parent-teacher interviews. How ‘bout that?"
You smiled, feeling a mix of relief and gratitude towards your friend. "Sounds like a plan to me."
______________________________________________________________
The faint echo of footsteps grew louder in the quiet hallway as you straightened up at your desk, glancing at the clock. The dim lights above flickered softly, casting a warm glow that illuminated the classroom filled with colorful student artwork. It was the night of parent-teacher interviews, and your heart raced in anticipation and anxiety. Each appointment was a gateway to success and growth, but tonight felt different. Tonight, you faced the sight of a certain single father…again.
As you set out fresh papers and a cup of coffee—mostly meant to ward off your own nerves—you tried to shake off the flutter twisting in your stomach. You had told Rose you wouldn’t get involved with parents, yet here you were, feeling exhilaratingly torn between professionalism and a sudden spike of anticipation.
The gentle knock on the door pulled you from your swirl of thoughts. “Come in!” you called, your voice steadying to mask your racing heart. The knob turned, and Jungkook stepped inside, his tall figure silhouetted against the hallway light. He looked slightly rumpled in a casual white fisherman’s sweater and jeans, as if he had just finished a long day balancing work and parenting. His sandy hair fell over his forehead, giving him an endearing boyishness.
“Hi, Y/n,” Jungkook said softly, his voice low and a little shy. He shifted between his feet, running a hand through his hair, and for a moment, you felt as though the air in the room thickened with something—tension, attraction, or perhaps, an endless stream of unspoken words.
“Hi, Jungkook! Thank you for coming,” You replied, trying to maintain the professional tone you’d rehearsed in your mind. “Please, have a seat.”
He hesitated for just a moment before sinking into the chair opposite your desk, glancing around the room and admiring the colorful projects that adorned the walls. “It’s nice to see what you’ve done with the place. Ara talks about it all the time,” he said, a smile creeping onto his face that lit up his eyes.
As you reviewed Ara’s progress report, you couldn’t help but feel Jungkook’s gaze lingering on you, like a gentle warmth wrapping around you. “She’s doing wonderfully, really. She’s bright, creative, and so full of energy,” You continued, your voice flowing with professional ease.
“That’s great to hear,” Jungkook replied, his fingers nervously tapping on the desk. “I mean… I worry about her sometimes, you know? Juggling everything has been—” He paused, biting his lip slightly as if searching for the right words. “—hard. But she loves coming to school.”
In that moment, you could see the affection etched on his face. His love for Ara was so palpable, so tender, that it made your heart swell. “You’re doing an amazing job as a father,” you blurted out before you could catch yourself.
A flush crept into Jungkook's cheeks, and he chuckled shyly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Thanks. I still feel like I have so much to learn,” he said, glancing away, his honesty disarming you.
“I think it’s a continuous journey for all parents,” You replied, forcing yourself to ignore the way your heart fluttered at his vulnerability. You forced herself to focus on Ara’s achievements, highlighting the areas where she could improve.
Yet with each laugh Jungkook shared, with each genuine word of praise he offered about his daughter, you found it harder to keep your feelings at bay. The chemistry crackled between them, threatening to bridge the gap of professionalism that you had once held sacred.
“I don’t know how I can ever thank you for what you do,” Jungkook said suddenly, a sincere expression on his face. “I feel like Ara has blossomed since she started in your class.”
“You don’t have to thank me, Jungkook,” You spoke softly, heart racing as you met his gaze. “It’s my job and my passion.”
He leaned back in the chair, taking a moment before asking softly, “But what about you? Do you… do you enjoy being a teacher?”
You nodded, feeling a stirring inside you—a mix of admiration and a desire for connection that you fought to suppress. “I really do,” you confessed. “It's a rewarding experience, but...” You hesitated for a moment, knowing your feelings threatened to slip from your grasp. “It can be challenging at times.”
“Yeah, life can be tough,” Jungkook replied, his voice low. “But I guess we all find our way through it.”
Their eyes locked for a heartbeat longer than necessary, and you felt an electric jolt, a silent understanding passing between them. But just as quickly, you pulled yourself back, focusing instead on the paperwork scattered across your desk.
“I believe Ara will continue to thrive under your guidance,” Jungkook said, attempting to break the growing tension.
“Absolutely,” You agreed, feeling the flicker of excitement mingled with anxiety. “If you have any concerns, please don’t hesitate to reach out.”
Jungkook smiled, the warmth in his expression making your pulse quicken, and you couldn’t help but smile back, even as reality settled back in. They were from two different worlds, tethered by the innocent bond of a daughter between them, and you knew you had to tread carefully.
“Thank you for your time,” Jungkook finally said, rising from his seat, his voice a blend of gratitude and something softer, like an unexpressed hope. “I really appreciate it.”
As he turned to leave, you felt a mix of longing and resolve. “You’re welcome, Jungkook. Have a great evening,” You managed to say, your heart heavy with unspoken feelings and the sensation of his presence lingering in the room long after he had gone.
With a sigh, you sank back into your chair, trying to reclaim your professional demeanor, fully aware that this was only the beginning of a journey you had carefully set herself against. And yet, without a doubt, it felt exhilarating and terrifying all at once.
The echo of Jungkook’s footsteps faded down the hallway as you sat back in your chair, staring blankly at the stack of papers on your desk. The soft, dim light of the classroom wrapped around you like a cocoon, but instead of feeling comforted, your thoughts spiraled into chaotic disarray. Your heart still raced at the memory of his shy smile and the way his gaze warmed you, sending unexpected flutters coursing through your chest.
“Okay, Y/n. Let’s think this through,” you murmured to yourself, pushing your chair back a bit to pace. You took a deep breath, holding your head high as you began your internal debate, your footsteps echoing softly against the tiled floor.
Pros:
1. He’s Kind: Jungkook showed genuine concern for Ara’s well-being; that spoke volumes about his character.
2. He’s a Good Father: Seeing how much he adored his daughter made your heart melt. A man who values family is definitely an attractive trait.
3. We Have Chemistry: The connection was palpable during your meeting, the kind that sent thrills of excitement coursing through you.
Cons:
1. He’s Ara’s Father: You would always have that complex dynamic, which could complicate everything. What if things went wrong? The relationship with Ara would be at stake.
2. Professional Boundaries: As a teacher, you reminded yourself constantly of the boundaries that existed between you and the parents. Getting involved with a parent could lead to gossip and drama.
3. Could She Actually Do This? You didn’t want to enter the dating world and find yourself getting hurt. There was so much at stake, and discretion was key.
The rhythm of your footsteps quickened, your thoughts tumbling into a whirlwind of confusion.
“No, no, no.” You held her temples, trying to massage away the tension that gnawed at you. “You can’t think like this. You would be crossing a line, Y/n. Your job is to inspire and educate, not fall for the parents!”
You paused, catching your breath, feeling the weight of your emotions. “But—what if this is something special?” An involuntary smile sneaked onto your face at the thought of Jungkook’s easy laughter, the way he nervously fidgeted in his chair, and the sincere glances he offered. “What if…he’s different?”
Your heart raced again, and you bit your lip, taking another deep breath to steady yourself. You have dedicated yourself to your career. You loved teaching and the bonds you created with your students. But you also felt the longing for companionship, for someone who would truly understand your heart, your struggles, and your dreams.
You found your way back to the desk, grabbing the paper you had written notes on about Ara. It was filled with nothing but good observations and bright notes that showcased the little girl’s personality. “This is about Ara, too,” you whispered, glancing at the portrait Ara had drawn of you standing beside her at the school. You had never looked better as a stick figure.
“Could I do this?” you inquired softly, staring out the window at the fading sunlight. “Would this be fair to Ara? To him?” You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to visualize yourselves together, the gentle kind heartedness belying a deeper connection that tethered you.
Footsteps interrupted your reverie, and you looked up to see Rose peeking through the door. “Y/n?” she called softly, stepping inside. The infectious energy of her friend brightened the room. “I saw Jungkook leave. How did it go?”
Your internal debate halted as you met Rose's eager gaze, the warmth of friendship wrapping around you like a comforting embrace. “It was... interesting,” You replied slowly, trying to sort through the flood of emotions that threatened to spill over.
“What does that mean? Was he flirty?” Rose raised an eyebrow, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
You shook your head, your cheeks flushing slightly. “No, it wasn’t like that. We just talked about Ara and her progress. But there’s this…connection, Rose. It’s hard to explain.”
“Do you like him?” Rose leaned forward, her excitement palpable, her curiosity evident.
“I don’t know! I mean, I shouldn’t, right?” You sighed, throwing your hands up in exasperation. “He’s Ara’s dad, and I’m her teacher. There are boundaries, Rose!”
“But do you want to explore those boundaries? You said it yourself; it’s a connection!” Rose's voice rose slightly, her enthusiasm inexhaustible. “You only live once, Y/n!”
“Why are you so supportive of this? Are you trying to get me into trouble?” You chuckled, trying to lighten the mood, but you felt the weight of Rose’s words pressing upon you.
“Maybe I am!” Rose teased, crossing her arms. “But look, if you feel something for him, that could be something worth exploring. Relationships don’t always lead to disaster, you know. Sometimes, they lead to wonderful things.”
You chewed your lip, your heart fluttering at the prospect. “But what if I mess it up? What if I ruin things with Ara and her dad?”
“I think Ara would be happy if he found someone who makes him smile,” Rose asserted confidently. “And if that someone happens to be you...well, then that’s just a bonus!”
Looking down at your desk, pondering the vibrant artwork that Ara had drawn, you felt a gentle surge of hope amidst the confusion. Maybe there was a chance for something beautiful—if you could just take the leap.
“All right,” You said finally, fortifying yourself. “I’ll think about it. But I have to be careful...for Ara’s sake. And for my own.”
“Smart girl.” Rose grinned, her eyes twinkling with excitement. “Now, let’s plan how to help you catch his attention.”
You couldn’t help but laugh, the tension lifting slightly as you felt the warmth of Rose’s friendship. As they began to chat and brainstorm about playful ways to show your interest, you felt a new storm of possibility unfurling in your heart—one that you could no longer pretend to ignore. ______________________________________________________________
After leaving your classroom, Jungkook leaned against the cold, tiled wall of the hallway, taking a moment to catch his breath. The sound of his heart thudding loudly in his chest seemed to resonate in the quiet space around him. What just happened? He couldn't shake the feeling of exhilaration mingled with a flicker of anxiety as memories of their conversation flooded his mind.
He rubbed a hand across his neck, still feeling the heat rising to his cheeks—a bashful evidence of how easily flustered he had become in your presence. Your smile, your laughter, the way your eyes lit up when you spoke about Ara—it was utterly charming. Why did she have to be so captivating?
His thoughts immediately twisted into a flurry of whims. Honestly, how could someone be so effortlessly beautiful? Your enthusiasm about teaching resonated deep within him; he admired how you handled the classroom, how you brought warmth and light to every interaction. The way you carelessly tucked a strand of hair behind your ear made his heart flutter. He relished in the thought that you cared so deeply for his daughter; it filled him with a swell of appreciation that lingered a little too long in his chest.
But then there was that chemistry, that intoxicating vibe that seemed to hum in the air between them. Jungkook winced slightly, aware that he was entering dangerous territory. Your laugh had tugged at something deep inside him—a longing that he rarely dared to face. Could he be falling for you? The thought was both thrilling and unsettling.
His mind wandered to the moment their eyes met, the way you had smiled at him as if you were sharing a secret, a moment just for the two of them amidst the world. Thoughts he knew he shouldn’t entertain slipped through like silk ribbons, tightening around his chest. What would it feel like to hold her? To run his fingers through her hair, to pull her close and whisper sweet nothings in her ear?
Jungkook pressed his lips together, forcing the blush creeping up his neck to subside. Damn it, Jungkook. Focus on Ara! But the image of you was stubborn, filling his thoughts with mischievous imaginings—your laughter echoing in his ears, your soft, inviting gaze lingering in his mind.
He imagined you tucked against him on a lazy Sunday morning, sunlight streaming through the window casting dappled shapes on your skin, and he couldn't help but wonder if you would look up at him in that soft, sleepy kind of way—your hair tousled, and that peaceful smile gracing your features. God, he would do anything for that smile.
His heart raced at those thoughts. Was it wrong to want more? The deeper he delved into his fantasies, the more he wondered if he could truly let someone in again. The idea of developing a connection with you was thrilling but terrifying.
But what if it went well? What if he got to know the woman behind the teacher façade? What if they clicked like he suspected they might? A sudden image of their hands intertwined danced in his mind, the warmth radiating from your soft fingers sending shivers down his spine. He imagined kissing you—a slow, intimate exploration that left you both breathless, your hearts racing in sync.
His body reacted even to the thought, and Jungkook groaned softly, shaking his head at the direction his mind had taken. He just wanted to know more about you—the fear and the thrill of the unknown gnawing at him as he paced in place. Was he ready to join the dating world again? To risk his heart?
Jungkook glanced down the hallway, half-expecting you to appear again with that mesmerizing smile. He exhaled slowly, trying to calm the whirlwind that churned within him. You had met as teacher to parent, you were cautious in your own ways, but there was something in your gaze, the spark of possibility daring him to breach the barrier.
“Just take it slow,” he whispered to himself, trying to ignore the overwhelming desire unfurling within him like a curtain drawn back to reveal a dazzling stage. “She’s worth it.”
In his mind’s eye, he could see your face, lit with warmth and kindness, exhibited perfectly in the classrooms where you worked magic with children. But he wanted you outside of the school, in the real world, where they could be themselves.
With another deep breath, he turned and walked away from the classroom, his heart still racing and the ambitious thoughts whirling inside his mind. The night air hit him like a splash of cold water, grounding him, reminding him that this was just the beginning of something he knew could change everything. And as he left the school grounds, he couldn't shake the feeling that he wanted to do whatever it took to make sure he saw you again. ______________________________________________________________
The restaurant was awash in golden candlelight, casting flickering shadows on the walls adorned with tasteful art. The hum of conversation intermingled with the clinking of silverware, creating a cozy atmosphere that settled around the tables like a warm embrace. Jungkook had arrived early, wearing a fitted navy sweater that accentuated his figure and dark jeans—not too formal, but just enough to speak of a thoughtful effort. Tonight was important.
He twisted his napkin nervously in his lap as he surveyed the room, his gaze darting to the entrance. How do you prepare for a date with someone you genuinely like? It had been several weeks since they started talking, gradually letting layers peel away to reveal their authentic selves, and now here they were, on the brink of something new.
As if summoned by his thoughts, you walked in, your presence radiant in a deep emerald dress that hugged your curves and made you look effortlessly elegant. Your hair cascaded in soft waves, and when their eyes met, a bright smile danced across your lips—a smile that made Jungkook’s heart skip a beat.
“Hey,” you greeted, your voice warm and inviting as you approached the table.
“Hey! You look amazing,” Jungkook found himself saying, his cheeks warming at the earnestness in his tone.
“Thanks! You too!” You replied, taking your seat across from him, the evening lighting casting a gentle glow on your features.
Jungkook tried to shake off the nerves, but it was hard not to stumble over his words as their waiter arrived. “Good evening! Can I start you off with something to drink?”
“Uh, yes! I’d like a glass of red wine, please,” Jungkook said, his hands fidgeting on the table beneath the napkin.
“Same for me,” You chimed in, your openness making it easier for him to remember how to breathe.
As they sipped their wine and exchanged laughter, they discussed everything—their favorite movies, childhood memories, and even the quirks of teaching that made them both laugh aloud. But as the conversation flowed, Jungkook felt the slight pressure of anticipation build in his chest, the electric tension flickering like a candle in the wind.
“So, what’s been the best part of your week?” he asked, hoping to keep the conversation light while his nerves simmered beneath the surface.
You leaned forward, eyes sparkling. “Well, this week we were doing some more basic spelling skills. And there was one point, where I said that our class was gonna have a small spelling bee competition against the other Kindergarten class. Ara took it a little too seriously, she started buzzing like a bee after every word she spelled.”
Jungkook chuckled, picturing the adorable scene. “Oh God, is that why she came home and couldn’t stop buzzing around? I mean, at least she’s remembering to spell more words correctly…she rewards herself by buzzing a little each time.”
“Well, she does have a great teacher,” you teased, your eyes locking onto his with that playful glimmer.
Jungkook felt the heat rushing up his neck. “I’m just trying to keep up with your class levels,” he said with a grin.
Their connection felt tangible, fragile yet electric. Jungkook summoned his courage as the waiter returned with their meals. “It looks great. I hope it tastes great,” he said, lifting his fork, eager to divert his nervous energy.
As they began to eat, Jungkook was distraught to discover that his mouth seemed to have developed a mind of its own. “So, I was thinking maybe—I mean, if you’re interested—” he stumbled through the heavy words, glancing at her, “we could visit that new art exhibit next weekend? Or maybe a picnic? I’m definitely up for a picnic.”
Your brows raised in surprise, a smile breaking across your face. “I’d love that! An art exhibit sounds fantastic.”
Jungkook exhaled, relief washing over him. They continued chatting, light and airy, until a relaxed silence fell between them. An idea struck him, and he leaned closer, teasingly, “You know, you’re making this date really easy. I thought I’d be sweating bullets.”
Just as the words left his mouth, careless and relaxed, he slipped. “I guess I just feel comfortable, baby girl…”
His voice trailed off in horror as his brain caught up with his mouth. Did he really just call you that? His cheeks blazed a deep shade of crimson, eyes widening as he braced himself for your reaction.
You blinked, pausing mid-bite, amusement dancing in your eyes. “Wow, that was unexpected. Do I look like a baby girl to you?”
Jungkook’s face burned, a thousand apologies spiraling through his mind. “I-I didn’t mean it like—! I mean, you’re—!” He stumbled over his words, rendering himself a stammering mess.
You couldn’t help but chuckle, clearly amused, leaning forward as if to ease his embarrassment. “It’s okay, Jungkook. I kinda liked it, actually. It’s sweet.”
His initial panic spilled over into relief, but the flirty undertone hung between them, making the air around them more charged. Under the table, his heart raced as he played with the hem of his own sweater, unsure whether he was feeling flustered or exhilarated.
He took a deep breath, trying to regain control. “Well, um, you are adorable, so I guess it fits—just not in the way I set it up!”
“Do you think I’m adorable, huh?” You teased, your playful confidence radiating from you. Your gaze held a challenge, one that made his heart race anew.
“Not just adorable,” he clarified, leaning in slightly, feeling the heat of her presence. “You’re… captivating. Thoughtful. Kind. And it’s…” he hesitated, a smirk creeping onto his face, “dangerously charming.”
You bit your lip, eyes glimmering with intrigue, every inch of your body language inviting him closer. “Dangerously charming, huh? Is that a compliment or a warning?”
“Both,” Jungkook said, letting the tension linger in the air, a quiet challenge exchanged between them. As if he were testing the waters before diving in. “How about you tell me something about yourself that could potentially get us both in trouble?”
This time, you laughed, and it echoed around their cozy corner of the restaurant. The flirtation was undeniable, thickening the air as they engaged in the dance of unspoken desires. Finally, it seemed like this date might indeed lead somewhere—somewhere beautifully unexpected, where the two of them could explore the chemistry that had sparked between them.
With their plates nearly empty and glasses refilled, you glanced over at him, a light blush dusting over your cheeks. Under the table, you let your foot caress up and down his calf, watching how he paused halfway through paying for the bill to look at you with a tilted head. You turned your head away, resting it in your palm as you continued your movements, hearing how Jungkook’s breathing changed from light and even to heavier and quicker.
“What’re you doing…?” He asked quietly, cheeks burning a red colour as he sunk into his chair a little more. You shrugged your shoulders, looking away again, the intensity of the situation making it hard to stare directly at him.
The sound of chair legs scraping against the floor made you finally look back at him. His cheeks were a dark red, a hand extended towards you as he helped you out of your chair, pushing it in before slowly walking with you. A shaky hand was placed around your waist, sending tingles all throughout your body, it was clear Jungkook was nervous, but it was also clear he wanted something else. Craved something else.
“Jungkook, are yo-”
“Do you want to come back to my place?” He asked hurriedly but softly, his eyes staring into yours as he waited for your response. “I know it’s inappropriate to ask, especially since it’s only our first date, but you just…you look really good in your dress, like, really, really good- and…and…”
He looked as if he were about to lose his mind if you didn’t speak soon. You carefully cupped his face, brushing your thumbs along his cheeks as you spoke. “Hey, relax…it’s okay. You can breathe…” You calmed him down, his hands coming up to hold your forearms gently, taking in deep breaths. “I..I would love to…go back to your place, I mean. But…what about Ara?”
“She’s with her uncles…Namjoon and Jin promised to look after her.” He said breathlessly, his eyes looking everywhere on your face at once, taking in as much detail as possible as if he were trying to engrain an image of you into his mind.
“Am I supposed to know who those people are, or?” He shook his head, a small laugh escaping his lips as he leaned forward, resting his forehead against yours before pulling away.
“They’re my friends that helped me raise her. Also work at the cafe.” He mumbled, bouncing a little as he looked at the parking lot. “ I really love sharing things with you, but I’m about to lose my mind if I don’t have you soon…so…my car is over there.” He said, pointing over to a black car parked a little further away from the restaurant.
There wasn’t a lot of time between getting in the car, the drive to his place, and getting inside his place. As soon as you stepped foot inside the threshold, Jungkook was grabbing you, needy hands grabbing at your waist as he looked at you, quietly asking for permission to kiss you. You barely nodded before he gently pressed his lips against yours, the kiss was firm yet soft, everything you expected from him.
“God…” He whispered against your lips, cupping your face as he kissed you again, groaning from how good you were. “You’re so perfect…so, so perfect.”
A soft giggle escaped you, pulling back so you were face to face with him, “You’ve barely kissed me, how can you know I’m perfect?” You asked, following mindlessly as he dragged you to the bedroom.
“Because.”
“Because?”
“Yes, ‘because.’ Don’t ruin the moment.”
You could hear the smile in his voice as he kissed you again, lifting you slightly to place you on the bed. His hands moved to your waist, squeezing and kneading the flesh under your dress. His lips slowly moved from your lips to your jaw, peppering soft kisses all along your skin. His left hand grabbed your chin, turning your head to the side so he had more room to find the spots that made you shiver. “Your skin’s so soft, baby girl…”
The feeling of his lips latching onto your skin made you shiver, feeling the slight suction as he sucked a mark into your skin, his tongue soothing the area afterwards. He hovered above you, arms propping himself up so he didn’t squish you completely, not that you’d mind.
“Fuck…Jungkook…” You whimpered, feeling him smirk against your skin. He pulled away, eyes meeting yours as he pressed another soft kiss to your lips.
“Can I take your dress off?” If he wasn’t breathless before, he sure was now, panting as he waited for permission. “Please, I wanna see your pretty body, baby.”
You managed to nod, propping yourself up so he could reach back and unzip your dress. His fingers gently grasped your sleeves, pulling the forward as the top half of your dress slid off your body. The sound that left his lips made your panties damper than before, his eyes focused solely on your bare breasts. “Oh shit…no bra?”
“Didn’t have one that worked with the dress.” You replied, finding it hard to stare at him head on. Jungkook seemed to notice this, his hands cupping your face again, focusing on your eyes as he spoke softly.
“Hey, you don’t have to be embarrassed or anything…you have the hottest body ever. Like, ever. I mean, you just showed me your bare tits and I almost came.” With his admission his cheeks tinted pink, but he didn’t pay any mind to it, instead focusing on you. “If you ever feel uncomfortable, just tell me. Okay? I’ll stop right away.”
His gaze slowly went back to your tits, his thumbs resting just under your breasts, brushing against the soft skin before fully grasping them in his hands. You let out a breathless moan, eyes fluttering closed as you relished in his touch. It wasn’t long after that he had you out of that dress and your panties, being stripped down to only his boxers himself. His face was level with your pussy, lips pressing soft kisses against your inner thighs as he edged closer and closer to the place you needed him most.
He darted his tongue out, licking a stripe down your folds, before making contact with your clit. The moans you let out egged him on more, pressing his face further into your cunt without any care in the world. The sloppy sounds that came from his mouth on your pussy was borderline pornographic. He used his fingers to part your folds, paying as much attention to your clit as possible. After a few minutes he pulled back, taking a few quick breaths before tugging you closer to the edge of the bed. He noticed the way you were gripping the sheets, how your eyes were screwed shut in pleasure.
“Aww, are you close, baby girl? Does my good girl wanna cum?” He taunted, and all you could do was whine and nod.
Your eyes were glossy as you opened them again, looking down at him to see the bottom half of his face covered in your juices. “Please… Please, wanna cum…wanna cum for you…” You moaned, blindly reaching for one of his hands.
He got the idea, intertwining your fingers with his as he rested them just above your pelvic bone. He nipped at your inner thigh before licking another bold stripe up your sensitive folds, sucking your clit into his mouth. His tongue flicked over it slowly, steadily changing the rhythm to a pace that would bring you to the edge in an instant. With a few more flicks of his tongue, he had you coming undone on his tongue, slurping up every little bit of juice that leaked from your hole.
You laid on the bed, limp and breathless as you looked at him, watching him stand up straight and wipe the rest of your juices that were on his face on the back of his hand. “How’re you doing, baby?” He asked softly, kissing your cheeks a few times to make sure you were still with him.
You hummed softly, nodding as you pushed yourself up, connecting your lips with his in a slow and sensual kiss. Your hand snaked down to his boxers, barely rubbing against his hard-on before he grabbed your wrist gently. “If you do that, I’m gonna cum. And I want to cum while I’m inside you…”
The pout that formed on your face was inevitable, but you agreed, “Fine…but next time, you have to let me return the favour.”
His smirk grew as you insinuated there would be a next time. “Fine. Next time.” He kissed you again, fingers tangling in your hair as he groped your breasts again, groaning into the kiss. “I’m never gonna get over how soft your tits are…wanna fuck them.” He panted, rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger.
A breathless giggle escaped you, “Maybe next time…” He took the answer you gave him, kissing you once more before flipping you to be on your hands and knees, your face pressed into the mattress as he grabbed at your ass.
“Fuck, is there anything about you that isn’t perfect?” When he saw you turn your head and part your lips to respond, he spanked your cheek gently, grabbing it to massage after. “Don’t answer that.”
It almost happened too quickly, he got the condom, slipped it on and pushed into you gently, rocking his hips into yours to make sure you adjusted to him properly. His hand reached under you, cooing at you to part your legs slightly so he could play with your clit. The sensations of his fingers stimulating your clit mixed with the rocking of his cock in you, you were a lost cause.
“Mm, f-feels…so good…” You moaned into the mattress, feeling him speed up more, probably trying to chase his own high as well. Your walls fluttered around him, making him groan deeply, leaning forward to press a kiss between your shoulder blades. “Yeah? S’my cock that good for your little pussy? Hmm? Fuck, you take me so well…”
You whined, your walls tightening more around him, that knot in your lower belly slowly becoming too much to handle. “F- fuck…K-Kook, m’gonna cum…” You said in a high pitched tone, trying to hold back for him for as long as possible.
“Shhh, it’s okay, baby girl. Let go for me. I’m right there with you…” He encouraged you, thrusting into you faster as he kept rubbing your clit. Your moans melded together as you both came undone.
He kept pumping into you until he was sure you were satisfied, a gentle hand coming to your hips to stabilize you as he pulled out, listening to your soft whine. He hushed you sweetly, laying your hips down to the mattress as he quickly disposed of the used condom. He came back to the bed, curling up behind you, nuzzling his face into your neck as he breathed in your scent.
“Mmm, you’re so pretty…” He whispered drowsily, smiling softly as he heard you giggle. He loved that sound so much.
“Sure, I look so pretty with messy hair and sweat covering my body.” You groaned, shifting to get more comfortable. It was his turn to chuckle, his arms wrapping around you tighter.
“Yes, you do.” The moment of peace was disrupted by the doorbell ringing. He furrowed his brows, looking at you before towards the bedroom door. “Give me a minute, I’ll go see who it is.” He murmured, kissing your temple softly before getting up and pulling on his boxers from before.
He was gone for a few minutes, quiet chatter echoing through the house, but it wasn’t loud enough for me to hear. You wrapped the sheet around your body, tugging it securely around you as you got closer to the bedroom door. Then you could hear it, Jungkook’s voice stern and low, something you hadn’t heard from him before. But who was he talking to like that? And then you understood…
“I want to see my daughter.”
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.
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?”