Redemption | Jeon Jungkook

Americans be really give you lecture about women empowerment, human rights, equality and then elect a president like Trump :)

wicked • 1

↳ Summary: In a desperate hope to stop war from breaking you are a serviced to wed the most vile man alive, the one who has committed atrocities and war crimes beyond comprehension, he who is responsible for the fall of many nations, the wicked prince who’s heart is made of stone. You are to marry a man who challenges every belief and moral you stand for, all while being faced in a foreign land with nobody but yourself too trust…But are you both truly that different? Or is hate not too far from love?

↳ Pairing: Jungkook/reader feat. Seokjin

↳ Genre: arranged marriage AU, enemies to lovers, it’s kind of a period AU??? Historical but also technically not? prince!AU, eventual smut

Word Count: 4k

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Note: I’ve sat on this story for like 8 months and I still feel bad for posting but bYe I’m a hoe for e2l and I sure hope y’all are too bc gOd daYum

To be a princess, is that of obtaining and following duty whenever it calls. Whether you agree with it or not is of none concern to no one, even yourself to an extent. There were many times in your life when you could assume that, if you felt strong enough about a situation, eventually, your parents would sit you down and work something out that was, at the very least, comparable.

Those times were few and far in between as you often understood that you had to do things, even if you didn’t personally want to, from a young age that you could no longer remember. But still, to be told this. It was a laughable matter at the time, you were so shocked that you couldn’t even fully believe it, it was two years ago after all. But for the day to have finally come. 

For the little bubble you had sheltered yourself in, to pop.

It was laughable only at how pathetic you were, you had two years to prepare. And yet here you were, still in denial and even more bitter than before. You had cried, begged your parents for some other alternative, but low and behold, they could only look at you with pity in their eyes. After all, what good was a daughter outside of selling off in marriage?

“Mmm, is something wrong, my love?” Your heart beat had risen and your hands were a little too shaky, was it because you were naturally shy during such activities as these? Or was it the shame cast over you? This was the day you’d meet him, and you were currently in your room doing this. 

A hand tenderly stroked your face, cupping your cheek as he gently raised your chin to look at him, Seokjin’s face was soft as a finger traced your jawline, your lips had jutted a little and your expression strong in remorse, if you stared at him any longer the moment would be ruined by your tears, “I’m fine.” You mumbled, offering a weak smile that you were sure if Seokjin looked close enough he would be able to tell it was a lie for the sake of the moment. 

Your hands quickly got back to work to keep him from asking any questions, you didn’t want to talk about it. Nor did you want to be in this position either but when would be the next time you got to do this? If ever. 

Sexual favors were not something you were often inclined to do but Seokjin was an exception as he was your lover and originally, had things gone the way they should, you would be married off to Seokjin. But of course not, no, Penumbra had to frighten every nation in the world by threat of invasion. 

They had to be so cruel in their wars and battles, their soldiers and training, it was no match for anyone. No matter how many troops were sent, they were torn down one after the other by the highly skilled soldiers there. Penumbra was everyone’s worst nightmare, a nation so bitter and angry, they’d stop at nothing to seek vengeance on everyone who once destroyed their original nation of Seoul. 

They didn’t take mercy on children or women, they didn’t care about anything but their own. You wholeheartedly despised and stood against everything they were. And for your parents to look you in the eyes and say you’d have to marry their Prince. 

The Wicked Prince. 

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jungkook went back to his past self of when he was 15 years old 🥺 (trans cr. ryuminating)

Second Chances {M}

Summary: Work. One of the most important things to him. It kept him company at night, it was all he thought about, all he put his attention to. His work had become the mistress within your marriage. Years after you left him you’re back with only one goal in mind. Get him to sign the damn divorce papers. Yet you should’ve known that your husband wouldn’t let you go that easily. 

Jeon Jungkook x Reader  Genre: Angst (but like not angst? like. intense longing??? IDK) | smut | fluff  Word Count: 14,439 Warnings: Explicit Sexual content A/N: This was supposed to be a story about rekindling of love. Idk how it turned out like this. Stupid Jungkook for making me like this.

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—chapter ten: chasing pavements

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

pairing: jeon jungkook/reader

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

word count: 2k

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

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

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

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𝐀 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥'𝐬 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥

✿𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: Jungkook x Reader

✿ 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚:  The one where you hate your boyfriend's best friend. Lucky for you, your boyfriend's other best friend's girlfriend hates her too.

OR

Hoseok's girlfriend will not let you be disrespected.

✿ 𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒔: Angst, Short.

✿ 𝐀/𝐍: this is Aera, btw. We all need one in our lives.

Anyway, very short and silly one shot. Maybe one day I'll write YN or JK's POV.

°•. ✿ .•°

(Fanfic masterlist)

(support me on my ko-fi <3)

°•. ✿ .•°

Aera had, as a personal rule, the habit of not meddling in other people’s businesses. Her own were already too much of a burden and she was not put on this earth to overwork herself with someone else’s problems. They could it either solve it on their own or fuck off, as far as Aera was concerned.

But everything had a limit and you, with your kind ways and pretty smiles that had sneaked your way into Aera’s very tight circle of friends, were just too nice for her to just watch you suffer. After all, she was a girl’s girl through and through.

Except when it came to Eunjae. That bitch could choke and no amount of girlhood talk would change Aera’s mind.

It all exploded on a cold Friday when the whole gang got together to meet at a bar, squeezing into a booth. There was Aera, her boyfriend Hoseok, his friends Jin and Yoongi on one side, sharing a plate of fries. On the other side, Namjoon, you, your boyfriend Jungkook and Aera’s number one public enemy, Eunjae.

Eunjae had been a childhood friend to the boys, knowing them for many years as they held on to her like a security blanket. And that would of course not bother Aera at all, if Eunjae had any sort of common sense or boundaries. She seemed to think there would never be another girl in the group and she would forever remain their collective girlfriend, leaving no room for anyone else.

But Aera, fearsome and outspoken, had cut that evil from the root at the very beginning, making clear to Hoseok that she would not allow herself to be antagonized. Either he spoke up or she would walk out. Not buts. 

Unfortunately, you were not as assertive as her. And even worse, Jungkook seemed to be Aera’s favorite target.

You and Jungkook had been dating for quite a few months and it was clear to anyone with eyes that you did really like each other: you looked at him as if he hung the stars in the skies and he brought you up in any possible conversation. 

And so, of course, Eunjae hated you. But men were way too simplistic to pick up on her veiled and nuanced aggression, so even though Aera could see clear as day how much Eunjae bothered you, Jungkook never seemed to notice a thing.

It was all in the way Eunjae seemed to drape over him anytime he showed up, throwing herself in a way that made him drop your hand in order not to lose balance. It was how she never allowed you to call him Kookie, as that was “my nickname for you, is it not, Kookie? That’s our thing!”. And, as if that wasn’t enough to trigger even the chilliest of girlfriends, it was the way that every time you had a date schedule, Eunjae suddenly had an emergency that only Jungkook could solve.

And he would go, leaving behind a teary eyed you and an awkward shuffling Aera that did not know how to console you without telling you that you should dump Jungkook’s ass and punch Eunjae on the tits.

So Aera said nothing. And she would stay like that, if that night Eunjae hadn’t pushed her luck a bit too far.

“Oh my God, Kookie!” she exclaimed in the over strident voice she always seemed to have, making your eyes roll in annoyance at the nickname “You’re never gonna guess what I just got!”

Aera exchanged a sympathetic look with you over the table.

“What?”

“Tickets to tomorrow’s baseball game! For all of us! Isn’t that cool?”

The boys whooped in celebration, crowding around Eunjae to check the tickets she had on her hand. But Aera was the one that saw you freeze and look at your boyfriend with the saddest eyes in the world.

He, of course, was too busy staring at the stupid piece of paper. But Aera could see the satisfaction in Eunjae’s eyes, and so she asked “How many tickets did you get?”

“Only six, sorry!”

Aera huffed “Yeah, what a bummer.”

But you were still focused on your boyfriend. “Baby” you called pitifully “but we had plans tomorrow.”

“I’m sure you guys can reschedule, right, Kookie?” Eunjae said and Aera never before in her life wanted to twist someone’s neck so hard.

Ok, there was that time that dude cut the line at Five Guys and she was really hungry. But this was a close second.

“Yeah, baby.” Your dumb boyfriend agreed and if heartbreak was audible the room would’ve exploded in sound at that moment if your expression was anything to go by “You can hang with Aera tomorrow.”

“Oh, okay” you agreed, eyes teary as you hid under a curtain of hair. “Actually, it’s getting late. I think I’m gonna go. I’ll see you all later” and before anyone could say anything, you picked up your purse and left.

And now Aera was furious, as no one seemed to notice nor know why you were so upset and you were way too nice of a girl to be disrespected like that and still manage to not make a scene. “What a saint” she mumbled.

Eunjae scoffed. And that was Aera’s breaking point.

“Yup, okay, I’m done” she raised her hands and stood up from the booth. 

“Baby?” Hoseok called, surprised by her sudden anger. 

(He shouldn’t be. Aera was always at least 5% pissed off, like the Hulk.)

“I really tried not to say anything out of respect for your truly dysfunctional friendship, but I had enough. You” she pointed at her boyfriend “if you pull half of this shit on me, just know I’m dumping your sorry ass and putting a curse on you. Like, your penis will actually fall off. You” she turned to Eunjae, who seemed only mildly bothered at her explosion and that pissed Aera even more “are the evilest bitch on earth to pull this stunt on a girl as cool as Y/N and I hope you know you’re lucky she’s so nice, cause if that was me you would’ve been bald in a ditch right now. And finally you” she at least turned to Jungkook, who seemed stupidly shocked at her outburst “that girl will dump you anytime now and although I truly love you like a brother, she deserves better than what you give her. Oof, that feels great to get out of my chest.”

The table was silent for a while before Eunjae screeched “Are you just going to let her talk to me like that?!”.

Hm, yes they were. No one wanted to lose their penis and Aera was fucking scary.

“W-what do you mean Y/N is going to break up with me?” Jungkookie asked, looking truly upset at the news.

“C'mon dude. You’re lucky you’re handsome cause clearly your head is just a hat rack if you can’t figure that out.” Aera looked around the circle of flabbergasted men “Really? No one? Ok, let me explain in a way y’all dumb dumbs can understand: Jungkook, how many times in the last few weeks did you and Y/N hang out just the two of you? Like a date?”

“Two times, maybe?”

“And how many times did you hang out with the wicked witch of the west right here?”

Jungkook winced and did not answer.

“It’s not his fault that I’m more fun to hang with!” Eunjae exclaimed.

“Ay, don’t say that” Jungkook tried to defend you but by then it was too late.

“And how many times were you hanging out with Y/N and this soon to be bald bitch called you and asked to see you?”

No answer.

“And did you go?”

Silence. Guilty silence.

“Yup. That’s what I thought. And finally, do you know what day tomorrow is?”

Jungkook frowned “Tomorrow? We had a date planned, I guess.”

“You guess, huh?” Aera let out a strangled laugh that made Namjoon slide under the table a bit “Tomorrow was your girlfriend’s birthday, dumbass. And you know how I know that? Cause I heard Eunjae ask her in the girl’s bathroom about her plans before she suddenly appeared with these magical tickets. So!” Aera clapped as Jungkook’s mouth opened in horror and other boys cast disappointed looks at Eunjae “I hope you all enjoy the game and I do hope the ball hits you bitch straight on the head and you get amnesia and forget what a terrible person you are. And finally I do hope Y/N finds herself some back bone and breaks up with you tomorrow because what a birthday gift would it be to be free of this clusterfuck. Anyway, good luck to you all.”

And with that, Aera left, going after you cause she would be damned if she left you alone. After all, she was a girl’s girl.

bts x netflix originals  ↳ thank-you for 10k followers ♡

Azaleas

Author: Randombtsprincessa

Characters: Jeon Jungkook x Reader (2nd POV)

Words: 9.9k

Genre: Smut

Summary: The Last thing you wanted was Jeon Jungkook on your case…but maybe you can find it in yourself to come to enjoy it.

Disclaimer: Most of the legal terms and phrases and references are what I found online. If anything is wrong, please forgive me and don’t take me to court.

Warning: A lot of legal talk, Courtroom scenes, Drug trafficking, Wrongful arrests, Cops being morons (sorry cops of tumblr), Inappropriate Courtroom conduct (sort of), Mean teachers, mean classmates, Depiction of drug addiction, Explicit Smut, Protected Sex, Consent taking (Yes, that is a thing, a good thing), Fingering, Oral (Male receiving), Profanity.

A/N: I just…it’s Jungkook guys.

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Let me drive. / JJK

pairing | jungkook x reader

summary | road trip + california + your koo 🥺

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

words | 3,522

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m okay.”

“That’s what you always say.”

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Stay. [JJK angst + fluff ]

Pairing: idol husband!Jungkook x wife!reader

Genre/Rating: NC17 due to heavy themes on mental health. Hurt/comfort fic.

Wordcount: 2.9

Summary: “Till death do us part” Your husband JK will do everything in his power to help you see how much he needs you to stay. 😍🥰😩😢😭 angst and fluff. Depression. Recovery.

Tags/Warnings: Depression. Recovery. Mentions of suicide. Tiny mention of religious theme.. 😢 Soft, happy ending 🥰

a/n: This is a commission from the lovely Mina @bangtanmademedoit for the ARMY for AAPI fundraiser! Please consider donating or checking out the Army Advocates resources! Mina, I hope this is not too angsty. 😛

Thanks to @augustbutwinter and @jin-fizz for betareading

Playlist: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JxPj3GAYYZ0

The air on the rooftop is chilly. It’s cold up here. Quiet too, as it should be at 3am. Another sleepless night for you. The doctor adjusted your meds again and it’s making it hard for you to fall asleep.

Antidepressants are such temperamental things.

It’s nice to be alone for a while. You came to check out what the roof looked like. Wanted to see if it’s really scary looking down the edge of a sixty-storey building. Would you be afraid or just numb? Fearless or finally relieved that you’ve seen it and know what to expect?

Just a few more steps and you’ll find out.

But first, you look up into the heavens with nothing between you and the big, black sky. There are no stars tonight; there haven’t been any for a long time in Seoul. Funny how the bright city lights make the sky look so much darker. Like a bolt of deep velvet, its expanse is breathtaking and dangerous, able to envelope you and swallow you whole in a moment. Naively, you look for a star anyway, faintly hoping for a sign among the smoky red clouds to just stay for a little longer.

The sky stays dark and silent. No angel. No flash of lightning. Nothing.

You take another slow, measured step. A few more and you’re near the edge. It’s not like you’re going to do anything. No, not tonight, you think. You’re here to see what it’s like. Just to see. Only to see.

“Y/N.” His voice, that famous one which carries the weight of the first line of so many songs, the one amplified to reach thousands, recorded to reach millions, comes clearly to you, just for you and only you tonight.

You turn to face him. He’s in his dressing robe and slippers, floofy hair mussed from sleep. His beautiful doe-eyes though, are wide and alert. “Whatchu doing up, baby?” he asks quietly. Like he has just gotten up and found you pottering about in the living room.

“Can’t sleep. Just wanted to be alone. Wanted to see what it’s like up here,” you whisper, eyes darting to him and then back to the edge that’s just a few more steps away from your own slippered feet. It had taken you so long to work up the nerve to climb those thirty-four steps in the roof-access stairwell from the penthouse to this roof. You’re finally here, and you don’t want to go back. Not yet.

Jungkook senses your hesitation and seizes the moment to speak. “Stay, baby. Don’t go there without me.”

“Okay, Kook. I’ll wait.”

He walks calmly to you, careful not to startle you, careful to hold your gaze, careful not to overwhelm you with all the things he wants to remind you of. Things like how much he loves you. Or how much your students adore you. Or how much joy and light and love you bring to his little heart that has only grown bigger and bigger to absorb all the goodness you are to him.

He’s relieved when he’s finally next to you and his arm can secure you in his embrace. How he wishes he can secure your heart and mind too, make sure none of the bad stuff can reach you.

If he could, he would put on a full fucking suit of armor and fend off those treacherous thoughts, thoughts dark and deep that sneak in after breakfast, ambush you before lunch, corner you at dinner, lure you in the middle of the night.

If he could, he would go into the ring with just his bare hands and fight with his last breath to shield you from the despair he has seen swallow you and spit you out and swallow you again and again.

If he could.

But Jeon Jungkook knows the battle is not his. It’s yours. And so he arms you. Arms you with his love. His attention. His tenderness. His time. His presence.

Except, he fell asleep tonight and you had slipped away. Something woke him— an unspeakable urgency to get to you. Maybe it was… god? He doesn’t know. But he’s here now and just in time.

“What do you want to do now, baby?” he asks, just like how he did at the carnival for your first date together. It was the mother of all first dates, filled with salty pop-corn and sweet cotton candy, with good rollercoasters and bad photo-booth pics that revealed too much love in the eyes of two people on a first date.

“I-I just want to see what it's like. To stand at the edge.”

“Okay. We can do that.” His heart is pounding. He thinks back to his wedding vows, how he has sworn to have and to hold you, cherish you and love you in sickness and in health, for better or for worse. Till death do us part. He’s not going to let you go if he can help it.

With one hand around your waist, the other holding your hand, he shuffles with you to the half a foot away from the edge.

“C-can I look down?” you ask. You’re half scared yourself, not terribly good with heights since you were a kid. Coming up here alone was a bad idea, you realize.

“I’ll hold you okay? We’ll both look.” He helps you lean forward, while bringing his dominant foot back to stabilize you both.

It’s dizzying. Little roads and little cars and little street lights twinkling in the downward distance.

“Do you want to sit here or go back in?” he asks.

“Let’s sit here. Just for a while. Please?”

“Sure, baby.” He eases you back a foot or two away from the edge, and then helps you sit down carefully, making sure he has your waist in a firm grip, bringing you in the curve of his arm. As you lean against each other, the silence brings up the old question again.

“Why do you always come for me, Kook?”

Because you matter.

Because I love you.

Because every beat of your heart is every beat of mine.

“Because,” he says, using that line again, the legendary one his father used on his mom a lifetime ago, “I'm kind of into you if you haven’t noticed by now.” It's the same line he used on you when he proposed.

“Just kind of?” You know the routine. It was how his mom had replied.

“Just the tiniest bit.” He smiles.

Which, of course, is not true. Because his devotion confounds you.

On your bad days, he doesn’t tell you to snap out of it, doesn’t belittle your pain.

On your bad days, he goes into the darkened room and lies beside you, bringing that clean laundry smell with him that reminds you of your grandmother’s house.

On your bad days, he holds you, whispers to you little jokes and stories from his childhood.

He’s so good to you. Too good for you, if you’re honest.

“I’m sorry, I’m such a mess,” you say quietly.

“Hey, I’m a mess too. Look at my hair.” He ruffles it up a bit more to make it look messier than it really is. “We’ll be a mess together. Mr. and Mrs. Mess.”

“You know what I mean,” you sigh. He has accompanied you to countless doctors’ visits for meds, driven you himself to your appointments for psychotherapy, fed you soup, fetched you water, brushed and braided your hair when you could barely get out of bed.

It’s funny how good he is at all those complicated braids. French? Dutch? Waterfall braids? He’s an expert now. After doing up your hair, he’ll get a handheld mirror and show you off to the mirror, a husband proud to introduce his gorgeous wife. He’ll call you princess, call you beautiful, call you his. Then, pouting his lips, he’ll take a silly selca with you, coax a smile from you and maybe even earn the sound of your tinkly-bell laugh.

“I do know what you mean,” he murmurs into your hair, its weight and texture he already knows so well. “I’m lucky to have you. Bong Bong is too. No one loves us like you do. We don’t deserve you.”

Bong Bong. A perfect name for the yellow lab you brought home together from the animal shelter when you got married three years ago. The poor puppy was rail thin and skittish in your arms, but over a period of six months of constant, watchful care, he grew sleek and strong, confident and playful. No one loves Bong Bong like you do.

But Jungkook. Jungkook had a string of girlfriends before you. You wonder whether they had loved him like you do. Or if you love him like they did. Whether any of them or all of them combined would be as much of a burden to him as you are right now.

“Kook. Do you regret this?” You point to the wedding band hanging around your neck in a thin gold chain. It doesn’t fit around your finger anymore. You’ve had too many of those days where food brought neither comfort nor pleasure.

“Never. Never, ever.” It’s said without a moment’s hesitation, said with a certainty backed by all the gold in the world. He twines his fingers with yours and lets you feel the hard wedding band that he has never, ever taken off since it went on. “You?” he asks, all quiet and serious.

“Sometimes. Sometimes I feel like I’m too much. That I’m holding you back. That you’re better off--”

“With you.” He plants a kiss on the top of your head like a period to a statement which needs no further elaboration. “I’m better off with you.”

He remembers the first day he met you. You were subbing for his regular guitar teacher who called in sick. When you walked into the practice studio, Jungkook forgot his own name, who he was and where he’s been. All he could remember was the way your fingers strummed against the strings, the way you smelled, the way your eyelids fluttered open and close as you pulled music from mere wood and metal.

He knew he was a goner. Knew he’d have to marry you. Knew he’d want to play music and make love and live life with you for all of his days and all of his nights.

When you’d asked him which song he was working on, he couldn’t answer. He was lost in his own world, thinking of how to ask you out without seeming desperate, or weird, or superstar-ish. How to do it sincerely, but casually; to appear interested, but not too invested so that your rejection might not sting as much because surely, surely someone as beautiful and soft and sweet as you must already be taken.

Only when you asked him for the third time did he answer shyly that he was learning how to play You’re Beautiful by James Blunt.

“You’re a romantic one, aren’t you?” you’d chided gently, quickly pulling a poker face while you wondered who he plays that song for.

“Always,” was his reply, the tip of his ears blushing as he gave you a bashful, sideways grin. “What about you? What do you like to play?” he’d asked so as to drown out the loud pounding inside his chest he knew you could hear, wishing so much that the soundproof studio could wrap around his heart instead.

“Eric Clapton. Tears From Heaven.”

He knew that one and tried it with your help, your gentle fingers guiding his across the guitar frets. He’d shuddered inwardly at the first feel of your soft skin on his hand against the hard steel of the strings. Your touch on his fingers burned deeper than the dark ink tattooed there, seeped right through his skin, into his blood, into his very heart.

Would you know my name

If I saw you in heaven?

Would it be the same

If I saw you in heaven?

I must be strong

And carry on

'Cause I know I don't belong

Here in heaven

It was after the song, both of you barely breathing from the weight of the moment, when he met your gaze and impulsively asked if he could kiss you. You hid your yearning with a laugh, and replied you don’t usually take kisses as payment for the first lesson.

“Then we need more lessons,” he said.

So of course there were more lessons, followed by payments of every kind, in every way, given everywhere. Payments that made you gasp, and hitch a breath. Payments at sunsets and sunrises, by the beach and on his bed.

He loves to overpay you, loves to lavish you with all that he has and all that he is, which explains why he’s here, next to you, ungodly hour be damned as he tenderly strokes your hair in what has been your worst episode of depression.

“Thank you, darling,” he says stroking the sides of your arm, his nose lodging gently in that little curve of your temple. He loves to breathe you into his very soul, chase every molecule of your scent, every second he can get.

“For what, Kook?” you ask, staring down at the ocean of city lights spread before you.

“For taking your meds. Making it to all your therapy appointments. For choosing to stay even when it’s hard." He pauses, thinking about how strong you’ve been even though you feel weak. "For fighting everyday. Fighting for us, for you.”

From all the way up here on the edge of this tall, tall building, to all the way down in the depths of your heart, a flood of gratitude fills you. Jungkook affirms your fight. He knows.

You say nothing, a squeeze of your hand back on his is all you can muster as the tears you’ve been holding in finally slip down your face.

“I love you so damn much.” His voice is cracking a little, but he pushes on, determined to convince you of what’s true and sure. “You ground me, you know? You keep me safe from me. Make me good. Make me better.”

You know his tendency to push himself, how he always takes on a lot more than the rest of the members, always willing himself to go faster, go harder, go higher until he burns out like the candle on the cake that doesn’t quite make it to the end of Happy Birthday to You.

You know how easily he gets drunk, no, not on soju, but on work, how he inebriates himself with fatigue, drowns himself in success, addicted to the myth of the golden maknae. For Jeon Jungkook, just one more was never enough. Not until you came along.

You know him. And yet you chose him. And this, Jungkook thinks, this makes him the luckiest man in the world.

“I need you here. Need you to remind me that there’s more to life than that craziness. So don’t fucking say you’re holding me back. You keep me safe, okay?” His eyes are all bleary and red now, face crumpling with emotion. “Don’t — don’t leave me, baby.”

You reach across to him and press yourself into him. Nothing moves you more than when he lays his heart bare before you. “Oh Kook. Kook.” You want to say it, feel it at the tip of your tongue, yearn with heart and soul to swear to him you’re not going to leave him this soon, this way.

But… but you just can’t quite say it yet.

He’s crying now. His tears are dripping down to the side of your cheek, merging with your own tears, reminding you that he’s here to stay. Your pain is his sorrow; your joy, his triumph. Teardrop by teardrop, the truth slowly sinks into you: Jungkook’s the strong tower you can always run to. He’s your refuge, your hiding place. There’s no need to go anywhere else.

You’re not sure how long you hold him and he holds you. All you know is that you’re so very glad to be in his arms, to be his girl.

He starts singing that familiar tune, the one that knotted his heart to yours from the very beginning.

Would you know my name

If I saw you in heaven?

Would it be the same

If I saw you in heaven?

And somehow, you find the strength within to sing with him—

I must be strong

And carry on

'Cause I know I don't belong

Here in heaven

With the darkness above, the lights below, and him around you, you listen to the last, mellow notes of your voice harmonized with his. It sounds like something you’d want to keep hearing.

Wordlessly, he leads you up and brings your body flushed against his, envelopes you in his big, strong arms, swaying to an invisible rhythm that only you and he are familiar with, the dance that’s just for the two of you.

“You know you belong here, right?” he asks, arms tightening around you.

You pull yourself closer to him, drawn to his warmth, to the goodness and steadfastness of this man.

You’re sure of your answer now.

“I know, Kook. I know I belong here.”

It’s true. You belong here and you’re going to stay.

~END~

Strong tower / refuge /hiding place imagery taken from Psalms and Proverbs, Holy Bible.

If you need help, please reach out to the nearest Samaritans hotline in your area. You’ll find someone who will listen. Hugs.

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Posted on April 14, 2021 by sahmfanficbts. All Rights Reserved © 2021 @sahmfanficbts. Please do not translate, post or upload this content on to any platform including YouTube without permission. This is a work of fiction.