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sweetcarrotsandroses97 · 20 days ago

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~ Loud Silence | 1 | JJK

Pairing: Doctor! Jungkook x Assistant! Fem! Reader

Summary: Your life was grey. Just like his thoughts, like his emotions, like his memories. And you ignored it all, the pain, the sadness, the unbearable silence... All because your heart told you to stay when your mind screamed at you to get away from the drowning force of Jungkook's obsession.

Warnings: ANGST, employer x employee, patients in a coma, medical terms, detachment, low self-esteem, diseases, symptoms, death, Jungkook is married, fluff?, yearning, child neglect? (let me know if I missed anything!)

Word Count: 2.6k words

A/N: Chapter 1 is here, darlings! I am so excited for this story and I hope you will like it as well. I'll do my best to keep updates as fast as I can but please be patient with me.

Let me know your thoughts in the comments, darlings! I'd love to hear from you!

☕Caffeinate me so I can keep on writing! ☕

“Remember you have your fencing practice after your chinese lessons today. They were all moved an hour as Mr. Min had an impromptu. Then you’ll have your piano lessons at five instead of four sharp.”

Your words were met with a boring sigh and an acknowledged hum. Ji-hoon was busy with today's study material you had given him that morning. He sat at his desk, hunched over the textbook while a YouTube tutorial of the math problem he was solving was paused on the large screen of his computer.

“Thanks, (y/n)”

His reply was dry, monotonous. Your heart clenched but you kept your straight face. Adjusting your posture, you lowered your tablet with Ji-hoon’s updated schedule and looked around his big room. The bed was made to perfection, the books on the large shelves were cleaned and organised and the curtains that often covered the ceiling-tall windows were open and the view of the gardens could be appreciated if only the boy would turn around and admire nature.

You turned around, ready to leave Ji-hoon to his studies. The sound of your heels on the white polished floors filled your ears. It was a sound that was too loud, or maybe the room was too quiet. Instead of Ji-hoon’s animated storytelling of his day, he sat in silence contemplating his assignments, instead of the big screen in his room playing some sport as background noise, the smart TV was off. You didn’t remember the last time he had even turned it on.

“(y/n)?”

You stopped. It had been the first time in days, maybe even weeks or perhaps months, since Ji-hoon had called your name with emotion. With the lace of doubt and vulnerability in his words.

You turned around and watched as he leaned back on his chair but looked at you with doubtful eyes. His hands fidgeted with the pen more than usual and your heart sank at how nervous he looked.

You tilted your head to the right, a subtle movement that seemed to bring him out of the lake that drowned his thoughts in doubts. Ji-hoon took a deep breath and you waited until he spoke. You didn’t pressure him. You never did. You already knew how much pressure the boy had, the weight he carried on his shoulders was one no fourteen year old child should carry.

“Did you ask him? What did my father say?”

You blinked. Staring at Ji-hoon with the same monotonous gaze he already got used to when looking into your eyes.

“You already have everything you need here. Your father doesn’t believe that you going to school would benefit you in any way.”

Ji-hoon turned back to his desk, his eyes downwards. The grip on his pen loosened and it pained you how soft his voice sounded when he spoke again.

“Of course he doesn’t.”

His mumbled words pierced your heart. You wished there was something you could do to help him. To ease his loneliness that stood rooted in his heart. But that choice was not yours to be made. And so, you tilted your chin up, your grip tightening on the tablet in your hands.

“Your father knows what is best for you, Ji-hoon.”

But the boy just scoffed at your words. For he was not sure whether to feel sad or disappointed or angry or frustrated. For he felt it all at once. You didn’t linger. Your steps echoed once more on the polished floor as you left the room that was too big for a teenage boy alone.

Once in the hallway, you leaned back against the closed door. It pained you to see Ji-hoon so helpless when it came to decisions that concerned his life, his experiences, his memories. But it pained you more, that it had not always been like this.

There had been a time where he had smiled, where he had laughed.

The household had been happier. And yet, now all it was left of that happiness was the shadow of laughter in the wind.

You walked down the large hallway, the lights hanging on the walls illuminated your features, your steps were calculated; monotonous. The house was big but silent. Your heart was lonely yet it still yearned. The sunlight streamed through the tall windows and as you turned left to descend down the large staircase, you paused.

Looking over your shoulder, you looked at the portrait of Ji-hoon and his father, renowned doctor and scientist, Jeon Jungkook. And yet the boy was the spitting image of his mother. With a sigh, you turned away and continued your journey down the stairs. The ground floor was just as silent as Ji-hoon’s room and with quiet professionalism, you walked to your right, going into Jungkook’s study.

You didn’t look at Jungkook’s piling paperwork on the desk, you didn’t pay attention to the already filled bin by the chair that was mostly empty. You didn’t dare look at the portrait of her. Jungkook’s wife. It was a painting he had commissioned after they had gotten married. A piece of art that now hung over the dry fireplace.

Seo-yun.

A name that was once a blessing of the household was now a curse. You didn’t look at her portrait. You didn’t have to. That painting that looked like a mosaic was engraved into your heart due to Jungkook’s melancholy when he gazed upon it.

Instead, you walked to the very back of the room and into the door Ji-hoon was forbidden from ever entering.

The warmth of the empty house, the soft colours of the walls and the faint smell of books vanished when you crossed that door. The lights were white, blinding in their nature. The smell of chloride and antiseptic reached your senses. Your heels announced your presence as you entered Dr. Jeon’s private lab.

He was aware of you before you uttered a word. Jungkook sat on one of the stools, his posture rigid as he looked into the microscope once more.

“Sir, the conference this Friday has been cancelled. Doctor Kim called, his flight was delayed and he will not make it so the board decided to postpone the event.”

Jungkook looked up at you, his gaze met yours. Calculating and monotonous. The lab was in pristine condition. A sea of exams and samples were on the table, all labeled accordingly. And yet the whiteboard that hung over one of the walls was filled with loose handwriting. Notes, thoughts, symptoms, hypothesis… Jungkook’s mind was plastered on that board. An organised chaos. The eye of the storm of his subconscious. And the contrast was big. Between his wild mind and blank stare, it almost felt like falling down a rabbit hole of confusion where nothing was clear and nothing was known.

“Very well. Is there anything else I need to know?”

You straightened, letting your hands fall to your sides holding the tablet with your right hand. His stare was intense, dark compared to his pale skin. It had been some time since he went outside and allowed the sun to kiss his skin.

“No, sir. Everything’s on schedule.”

He hummed. It was a deep sound that reverberated through your spine and tingled your nerves. Jungkook went back to look down at the microscope with the same indifference he lived his daily life. His hands were firm when he adjusted the lenses, his jaw was tense while he scribbled away notes and observations on a notebook at his right.

You wanted to speak, to ask him so many things. But you didn’t know how to start. You never knew if it was wise enough to start speaking with him. He was so volatile, so silently unpredictable. Your perfect, rigid posture sagged a bit as you let out an inaudible breath. The lab was quiet, too quiet. Just like Ji-hoon’s room.

You hated it.

You hated that silence that strangely calmed your mind as well.

Jungkook changed the sample he was observing, his movements mechanical. The latex of his white gloves stretched as he flexed his fingers and he spoke without looking at you.

“If you have something else to say, (y/n), do it and go. I have work to do.”

You swallowed, remembering all the times he had spoken softly to you, all the times he asked if you could assist him in any of his experiments. All the times you had felt seen by him. Jungkook may be your employer, your boss and perhaps you were just his assistant, his secretary and Ji-hoon’s caretaker. But you missed the times when you had been more; or at least when he had made you feel more than that.

“Ji-hoon asked again, sir. He… keeps insisting on the idea of going to school.”

The doctor let out a deep sigh, almost in annoyance, in exasperation. It hurt to think that he saw his son like that.

“He asked me to tell you to reconsider it. He is lonely, sir.”

Jungkook let go of his pen, the sound as it hit the notebook was dry and it almost echoed in the silent laboratory. He leaned back slightly, his eyes bored; nonchalant. But it took you a second, a single heartbeat for you to see the vulnerability behind his icy glare.

“What should I do, (y/n)? Must I throw him into the world carelessly? If I do not make it, Ji-hoon will be the only remaining part of Seo-yun.”

Your gaze softened for right now, he was not the famous and brilliant doctor, he was a man whose heart had been broken by his own passion, by the hands of science. He was a father scared to lose his one and only son.

You took a step forward, intending on consoling him, advising him. But that single step brought him back from the dark pit that were his thoughts, his doubts. His walls rose, his eyes hardened and he straightened once more. And before he pushed you out completely, you spoke again. With that same professional voice, that delicate tone you always used when addressing him.

“You are a man who would do anything for his family, I have witnessed it more than once. You are taking into account his safety, I’ll just ask you to consider his happiness as well, that’s all.”

Your eyes flickered to the glass wall. The only wall that separated the lab from the confinement area where Seo-yun lay. She was on oxygen, her slender frame as pale as ever. She lay still, unmoving. Barely breathing. Kept alive by the sleep Jungkook drowned her in.

You didn’t linger. You couldn’t. So you turned away, not once looking back and missing Jungkook’s soft eyes as he watched your retreating form. You left him thinking, and that was something few had ever achieved.

The smell of cooked ricotta lasagna filled the spacious and minimalist kitchen. The warmth of the oven radiated towards you as you washed the used dishes. It didn’t take long for Ji-hoon to paddle into the kitchen, guided by the delicious smell of homemade food.

“What are you making, (y/n)?”

He asked out of politeness, already knowing the answer. He sat down on one of the stools on the counter and you felt his eyes on your form while you gave your back to him. Putting away the last of the spoons you had used to make dinner.

“Ricotta lasagna, I know you like it.”

You dried your hands, missing the way Ji-hoon smiled at your words. Though it was a fleeting reaction, it didn’t not reach his eyes. The timer on your phone went off and you silenced it, grabbing the oven mittens, you took the refractory out, the glass warm against your covered hands.

You placed it on the counter and took the mittens off. The smell was delicious and this time, you didn’t miss Ji-hoon’s delighted smile at the thought of the homemade dinner he liked so much.

“You should call your father.”

Your voice was soft as you spoke while grabbing a knife and cutting the lasagna into neat portions. The golden cheese stretched slightly as you pulled the first piece free, steam curling into the air.

Ji-hoon pursed his lips, the smile vanishing from his youthful yet handsome features. His shoulders stiffened as he rested his elbows on the counter. His eyes dulled once more and his demeanour returned to that loneliness that crept into his heart like poison ivy.

“He won’t come.”

The boy murmured. You looked up, frowning gently at the sad acceptance in his voice.

“Did you ask him?”

“There’s no need. He’s always busy.”

His tone was light, almost indifferent, but you knew better. You placed a plate in front of him, offering a small smile and hoping the food would content him, if only for a short moment.

“Eat first. I’ll take him a plate, maybe he’ll come next time.”

Ji-hoon didn’t argue. His silence pained you. He simply looked at you with doubt and hope in his eyes at the same time before he picked his fork and began eating his lasagna. Without another word, you plated another portion and covered it with foil to keep it warm. Grabbing a tray, you added a glass of water and arranged the covered dinner before your feet carried you out of the kitchen.

You passed the big dining area, the table too big by the solitude that ruled over the house. They walked past the grand staircase, the yellow light from the big chandelier illuminating your features.

You entered Jungkook’s office, once more ignoring the staring and gentle portraits of his broken family as you went directly into the lab. The sweet aroma of freshly made food was left behind when you entered the lab for it faded into the crisp sterility of his workspace.

Jungkook was exactly where you expected—standing by his microscope, brow furrowed in concentration. He barely acknowledged your entrance.

“Sir, dinner.”

You placed the tray on the nearest table, making sure it wouldn’t get in his way. But the sound of the tray hitting the steel counter made him speak in that cold and monotonous voice of his.

“I’m not hungry.”

You didn’t move, only blinking at him as you studied him with an unreadable gaze that guarded the secrets of your heart.

“Ji-hoon was waiting for you.”

Silence.

For a moment, you thought he’d ignore you entirely. Then, with a sigh, he straightened, removing his gloves before finally looking at you. His gaze flickered toward the tray, lingering for only a second before shifting back to you.

“I have work to do.”

You swallowed the words you wanted to say. The ones about how Ji-hoon had barely touched his food after you left, how the boy’s excitement had dimmed the moment he realized his father wouldn’t come. But Jungkook knew. He had to know.

“I’ll leave it here. At least eat it before it gets cold.”

Jungkook said nothing, he turned his gaze away from you. His dark eyes were fixed once more on the chamber where Seo-yun slept. His jaw clenched, his thoughts were a myriad of emotions he hadn’t been able to decipher since that day when his life turned dark and his hopes died like embers.

But even in the silence, you noticed. You saw his pain, his obsession, his dedication, his melancholy. You saw it all. Even when the house, when his work, when your heart drowned in this loud silence that cursed your existence.

And so, you left. Leaving Jungkook alone with his thoughts. Alone with his doubts and guilt. He noticed when the warmth of your precedence left his lab, he noticed when he could no longer smell the floral aroma of your perfume. He noticed how your steps faded into the house, away from his and his grey emotions.

And yet, later that night as you passed by his lab again, you noticed the tray was empty and Jungkook stood in front of the glass that separated him from Seo-yun. Drowning in the loud silence of his thoughts.

February/01/2025

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#the anatomy of sacrifice #jungkook #jungkook x reader #sweetcarrotsandroses97 #bts #bts fanfic #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fic #jeon jeongguk #bts x reader #reader insert #clean romance #unrequited love #miraculous ladybug #gabriel x nathalie

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sweetcarrotsandroses97 · 3 months ago

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~ Shadows Of The Night |3| Mon Rêve

Pairing: Archdeacon! Jungkook x Romani! Fem! Reader

Summary: It all began with a mistake that followed you like a shadow on a sunny day. You crossed paths with the enigmatic Archdeacon of Notre-Dame, Father Jeon Jungkook, who promised to protect you from demons he couldn't fight. 15th Century, Paris. A lie. A stolen heartbeat and a confession that was never heard. He wanted you. You needed him. A secret turned into poison just as fate was cruel and it made him love you. Bounded by his vows and his position, Jungkook could only keep you as close as a dream at his reach. A cruel dream forged in a sanctuary of shadows and thorns.

Warnings: religious themes, dark romance?, forbidden love, AGE GAP (Kook is like 30-ish and oc is in her early twenties), angst, Jungkook is a priest 😳, oc is described as a petite woman, oc is described as being of Romani origin but no physical description is given of her other than her small stature (for canon purposes), injury, blood, implied attack on oc, fainting, Jungkook prays, (let me know if I missed anything!)

Word Count: 2.6k words

A/N: I know it has taken my like 3-4 months to write this part, I am so sorry, my darlings!!! I hope you will enjoy it and I will get back on track with my writing schedule. A lot has been going on in my life but I am finally settling back.

I finished my project successfully and I will present it on Thursday but it is practically finished and I will be going on a family holiday on Friday (a much needed mental break) and I hope I'll come back with lots and lots of inspiration. Take care, my darlings and enjoy the chapter.

Let me know your thoughts in the comments! You know I love to hear what you think of the chapter 🫶🫶🫶

Months passed, days that were too long and nights that were too slow and the passage of time felt like an eternity to Jungkook. The cold stone walls of the cathedral, once a place of solace and reverence, now seemed to close in on him. The weight of his devotion, the chains of his duties, had become suffocating in the absence of you. His prayers, once filled with fervent faith, now held your name, whispered desperately in the quiet hours of the night when no one else could hear.

Each day, he rose at dawn, his heart heavy with longing, hoping that perhaps today would be the day he saw you again. His steps through the cathedral were slower, his gaze always drifting toward the door, half-expecting you to walk through it with that same determined fire in your eyes. But you never came.

Every time he walked through the streets of Paris, he scanned the faces of the passersby, searching for a glimpse of your (h/c) hair, the sound of your anklet bells, or even the faintest echo of your voice. He asked discreet questions, careful not to arouse suspicion among the parishioners or his fellow clergymen, but no one seemed to know where you had gone. It was as if you had vanished into thin air, leaving only the memory of your haunting words and the amulet he kept close to his heart.

He tried to focus on his duties—on the sermons, on the confessions, on the endless prayers that filled his days—but your absence gnawed at him, a hollow ache that refused to heal. He could still feel the ghost of your wrist beneath his fingertips, the soft, fleeting touch that had ignited something dangerous within him. His dreams were plagued by visions of you, and when he woke, he was left with an unbearable emptiness.

The guilt ate away at him, too. How could he, a man sworn to serve God, allow himself to be consumed by thoughts of you? How could he forsake his vows for the sake of a Romani girl he barely knew? Yet, every time he questioned himself, his mind drifted back to the moment you looked into his eyes, the way your voice had trembled with fear and sorrow.

“I am a dead woman walking.”

Those words echoed endlessly in his mind. What did they mean? What had you been running from? And why did you fear dragging him into your darkness? He had no answers, only the certainty that he could not let this go. He needed to know. He needed to find you.

One evening, as Jungkook knelt before the altar, bathed in the dim glow of candlelight, he made a decision that would alter the course of his life forever. His fingers traced the edge of the silver bracelet you had left behind, his mind wrestling with the growing conflict in his heart. For months, he had fought it, tried to suppress the flame that had been lit the night he first laid eyes on you. But no longer. The fire had consumed him, burned away the facade of his holy devotion, and left only one undeniable truth: he would do anything to find you.

But he didn’t know where to look. He didn’t know where to even start. A helplessness gripped his heart with fierce claws, tearing at his sanity. There was nothing he could do despite the desire to give everything for you.

The flickering candle light illuminated his path as Jungkook climbed up the stairs that led up to his study. The walls around him were cold, the echoes of his footsteps being the only thing that he heard. Slow, calculated footsteps that carried him to his study.

Jungkook sighed as he entered the familiar place he often worked at. The large desk with piles of paperwork yet to complete seemed to mock him as he stared at them with disinterest. The wall behind his desk was filled with books, the pillars of the faith he had sworn to devote himself into but now those vows were tainted by the darkness of his thoughts.

The archdeacon ran a hand through his hair, his hand playing with the rosary he always carries with himself as his long fingers traced the beads made of wood. He walked toward the window that outsaw the courtyard, the very street before the grand cathedral was drowned by the shadows of the night, illuminated only by the silver spectre of the moon.

As Jungkook stared out into the night, the weight of the moon’s pale light seemed to press down on him, cold and unforgiving. The courtyard below, once a place of peaceful reflection, now felt distant and empty—a hollow shell that mirrored the void in his chest. His grip on the rosary tightened as if the wooden beads could somehow anchor him to the faith he was slowly losing grip on.

He looked down with a sigh, his dark eyes staring down at the rosary, remembering the countless prayers he had spoken in this very cathedral, in this very room. Those words were now hollow. A tightness in his chest, a thorn in his heart.

Jungkook looked up, his eyes narrowing as he saw something moving through the streets. He frowned, holding his breath in anticipation as the darkness made it seem as if whatever he had seen was a trick of his imagination But there it was again. The shadows dancing among the darkness. He saw someone, a person. They were running. He saw a dress. A woman. Sprinting to the cathedral. He saw movement behind her, more shadows he couldn’t count from here he stood. They were chasing her. And as soon as she stepped into the courtyard of Notre-Dame, the moon illuminated her hair, (h/c) in its nature.

“(y/n).”

Your name left his lips in a breath before he left his study, the rosary slipped from his fingers clattering to the floor and the beads spread across the ground. Some of them were lost forever but Jungkook didn’t look back, he was already out of the door and down the hallway, his long robes billowing behind him.

You were running. You ran with all your might. You didn’t dare look back. Your hands were fisting the skirts of your dress as you bolted through the streets of Paris. The cathedral loomed before you like a safe haven, its towering arches and intricate carvings lit by the soft glow of the moon. You could hear their footsteps behind you, the sound of boots pounding against the cobblestones, growing closer. Your breath came in ragged gasps, your legs ached from running, and your heart pounded in your chest with a rhythm that echoed your fear.

Notre-Dame was close now, so close. You just needed to reach the entrance—just a few more steps. You fisted your skirts tighter, pushing yourself to move faster, to escape the shadows chasing you. You had no other thought but to get to the safety of the church, where no one could touch you.

Where he would protect you.

You burst into the courtyard, the moonlight catching the strands of your hair as you stumbled toward the grand doors. The cathedral seemed to wrap around you like a fortress, the nave an infinite path ahead of you, its towering structure providing the sanctuary you so desperately sought. And standing in the centre of it all, just as you had imagined, was Jungkook.

He looked desperate, his eyes, normally holding such an unwavering faith were now filled with anguish as he made his way to you, nearly running. You didn’t stop, you couldn’t and you met him at the centre of the nave, under the big chandelier with a thousand candles above your heads. You ran toward him, your feet barely keeping pace with the desperation in your chest. The moment your body collided with his, his arms wrapped around you without hesitation, pulling you close, shielding you from everything and everyone that might come after you.

“(y/n)...”

“I-I claim Sanctuary.”

You managed to gasp out, clutching his robes as though they were the only thing keeping you from falling apart. Your chest heaved with exhaustion, your words a desperate plea that echoed in the cavernous space of the cathedral.

Jungkook tightened his grip around you, his tall frame towering over yours as he stood protectively before the altar. But just as he was going to take you further into the cathedral, the grand doors opened harshly and several men entered the sacred place with airs of violence. The archdeacon frowned, moving you so that you stood behind him as he faced whatever threat had forced you to seek safety in his domain.

“Give us the girl, priest.”

One of the men spoke, his voice rough, his complexion robust and tall and your hands fisted Jungkook’s robes from behind.

“This woman is under the protection of the Church.”

Jungkook spoke, his voice rang out, strong and commanding, addressing the men who had stormed into the courtyard behind you. His tone left no room for argument, and his eyes narrowed as he met the gaze of each of your pursuers.

“Any harm that comes to her will be seen as an affront to God Himself.”

The men exchanged uneasy glances, their hands twitching toward the hilts of their weapons, but they knew better than to challenge the church. The cathedral guards, alerted by the commotion, stepped forward, their armour gleaming in the dim light as they brandished their weapons. The men hesitated at the threshold, their eyes flicking nervously between each other and the guards stationed at the cathedral. The authority of the church was not something easily contested, and they knew it.

Slowly, one by one, they began to retreat, disappearing into the shadows of the night, though their presence left a bitter chill in the air. The tension dissipated, like fog in the morning.

Jungkook turned to look at you yet he frowned as he saw you trembling. Your hands fisted his dark robes and as you looked up at him, he noticed your eyes, those beautiful and expressive (e/c) eyes were wide with fear. Tears of panic formed in your lash line as you blinked up at the archdeacon that had defended you from harm.

“(y/n),”

A shuddering breath escaped your lips at the way he said your name. In that deep voice of his. With that authority he always carried. Yet the syllables of your name were tainted with underlying sentiment you couldn’t decipher even if you had wanted to.

“(y/n), you are safe. It’s over.”

But you shook your head. Your chest tightened and the tears spilled over. You were exhausted and scared. You bit your lip to try and stop the panic from taking over. Your breathing was erratic and you clung to him with desperation in your grip.

His large hands tightened where they rested on top of your shoulders, he didn’t know whether to pull you closer or push you away. This was becoming too much. His heart was seizing at the proximity, at the sheer physical contact with you.

You looked up at him once more, your eyes meeting his and he was stunned as he saw the fear swimming in your soul. Yet what really made his stomach drop was the glazed over way your eyes held his own.

“Jungkook.”

A simple whisper. The whisper of his name. Very few had ever spoken to him by his first name since he became the archdeacon. But you didn’t see him as the defender of Notre-Dame. You saw him as your protector.

He frowned down at you as your body slackened, his hold on you tightened before he took you fully into his arms, pressing you against his chest. One of his large hands rested on your waist while the other cupped the back of your head.

“You are safe. I promise.”

But you shook your head even as he whispered those words to your ear. Your body trembled against him, and he could feel the erratic rhythm of your breath hitching as you leaned into him.

“I… I can’t-”

You didn’t even finish your sentence as your knees buckled. His hold around you tightened before he lowered you to the ground as he held you firmly against him. That was when Jungkook saw it. Your dress, tattered and dirty, was stained with blood. Your blood. His calloused hand pressed against the wound, feeling the warm sticky liquid taint his palm and fingers.

“(y/n), (y/n)! Open your eyes!”

Jungkook’s voice echoed through the cathedral, cracking with a desperation that felt foreign to him. He cradled you against his chest, his strong arms trembling as they held your limp form. You were so still, too still, and the sight of your blood seeping into your tattered dress sent a cold wave of terror crashing through him.

You had sought sanctuary because you were at death’s door. Jungkook’s chest tightened with anguish as he held you, the weight of your limp body so light in his arms it felt wrong. He stared at your face, pale and drawn, framed by tangled strands of your hair. The world around him seemed to blur, reduced to the sound of your shallow breaths and the frantic pounding of his heart.

The sound of footsteps reached him and he looked up only to see Brother Antoine and Father Nicolas hurrying to his side. Their faces marred with worry and a tinge of curiosity as they approached the archdeacon.

“Whatever has happened here?”

Asked the latter, his voice carried a hint of horror. Jungkook looked down at you while pressing his palm firmer to your wound.

“She has sought Sanctuary in this Holy walls. Antoine, secure the cathedral. Do not let anybody other than the clergy to enter for the night. Nicolas, fetch the physician. Now.”

Jungkook gritted his teeth, feeling the blood seeping through his fingers, pooling on the ground in a crimson depiction of horror. Father above, have mercy. Spare her this pain, I beg you. If she is to be punished, let it fall upon me instead. And forgive me… Forgive me for loving her as I do.

Without thinking further, Jungkook lifted you into his arms as he stood to his full height. Your body was no weight to him, not even compared to the ache that filled his heart. Your (h/c) locks spilled over his arm as he held you securely against his chest.

“Venerable Father, where are you taking her?”

Asked Brother Antoine, his eyes wide as he saw the archdeacon handle you with such delicacy and tenderness. A sentiment that belied his usual stoicism.

“To my quarters. She is not to be disturbed.”

And with that, Jungkook walked away from the two men who later dispersed to fulfil his orders. His long strides ate up the distance as he crossed the nave and went to the private staircase that led to the upper rooms where only the clergy were allowed to enter.

Your dress rustled as he held you, he could feel the warmth of your blood seeping into his own dark robes and as he looked down at you, he felt as if his heartstrings were being pulled with cruelty. Your face was serene even in your unconscious state and you were as beautiful as ever. Not even death could ever take away your beauty. Not that he’d allow for your soul to be taken first.

As he walked through the darkened corridors with you held securely in his embrace, he muttered one last sentence to you before entering his room. A place only he was allowed to enter. Under the flickering candles and the colourful hues of moonlight streaming through the stained glass windows, Jungkook spoke only for your ears to hear.

“Mon Reve, why must you test me like this?”

December/02/2024

~ Masterpost

☕Caffeinate me so I can keep on writing! ☕

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sweetcarrotsandroses97 · 1 year ago

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~ As Sweet As Sugar | JJK

Pairing: CEO!husband!Jungkook x writer!fem!wife!Reader

Warnings: fluff, angst, the in-laws (again), talks of marriage, mentions of divorce, business talks, mentions of large inheritance, love confessions, sweet Kook, enamoured Kook, this is a pretty soft chapter tbh, Jimin and Namjoon feature in a scene (we love these two), implied smut at the end, OC is wiped by JK, (let me know if I missed anything!)

Summary: Jungkook makes a decision that would change his life forever but he can't regret it when he know he'll have you in the end. Promises are made, love gets sealed, because a caramel isn't always as sour as it seems.

Word Count: 4k

A/N: Hello, darlings! Welcome to the final chapter of "Sweet Marriage"! I hope you are excited to see how (y/n) and Jungkook will solve their marital issues O.O

Drabbles for this AU! are open, sweet ones! My inbox is open to all of you who'd like to request a continuation or would like to see in-betweens of this story. Now, without further adieu, happy reading, darlings!

☕Caffeinate me so I can keep on writing! ☕

What kind of caramel has a sour exterior yet a sweet centre? Is it worth the experience?

You sat in the passenger's seat while Jungkook drove to his parent's house. You were tense, he could sense it as well. From the begining you had tried to get along with your in-laws, something he thought was going pretty smoothly to be honest until Jungkook's mother crossed the line.

A silent gasp left your lips when Jungkook's hand rested atop your own. You looked at him only to marvel in his side profile.

"You are tense."

Your gaze lowered at his acknowledgement, you didn't want to speak just how much it bothered you had to go to his parent's residence in fear of making him angry or worse, to see you in a bad light you certainly weren't in.

His hand squeezed yours and you looked up at him only to meet his dark eyes for a second before his gaze returned to the front.

"I promise this is the last time we are going to my parent's house. I just need to sign some documents."

You leaned back on your seat, your eyes focused on the road as you let your mind wander around what had happened five days ago. You felt stupid to some point for doing Mrs. Jeon's will without consulting your husband. Not that you needed some kind of permission from him to do anything you pleased but more so as to include him in a decision that was going to affect the both of you as a married couple.

"I know, Kook."

You replied back in a soft voice, mind already lost in memories from that day and the following day you had lived next to your husband. The next morning after you told him your secret, Jungkook wasn't by your side and you felt how the world fell over you.

Fear took hold of you that moment, you could still remember how scared your had been when he wasn't in the bed, his side was also cold to the touch. You remember standing up in a rush, nearly tripping down with the sheets tangled in your body before you bolted out of the bedroom.

Jungkook was in the living room, his eyes lost in the horizon as the sun was painting the sky in beautiful hues of orange, pink and blue. He turned to look at you, his heart trembling at the distress drowning your (e/c) pools before he stood up and was quick to approach you.

You were in his arms the next second. Your face buried in his chest as you blinked back tears you didn't know had gathered in your waterline. Jungkook didn't say anything, he simply held you tighter when he felt you relax in his hold.

"You weren't in bed."

You said, matter-of-factly and he sighed, resting his chin at the top of your head.

"I woke up early, I didn't get much sleep."

You took a deep breath, inhaling in his scent, taking in his presence.

"I thought you had left."

The sound of your voice so fragile pulled at his heartstrings that a lump began forming in his throat. He pulled back only for one of his hands to cradle your cheek in his large palm while his eyes gazed into your own with countless emotions.

"Never. I could never leave your side."

You blinked and the memory dissipated from your mind like fog when the sun came out. You sighed, silently playing with Jungkook's fingers that were still in your hold, completely unaware of his soft smile upon your gentle touch.

"We are here."

His deep voice snapped you out of your little paradise where only you and your husband existed. He turned to look at you with gentle eyes that nearly melted you in your place. He smiled as if to comfort you; which it did.

"This won't take long, I promise."

You nodded before his hand left your own as he exited the car, making a sudden coldness invaded your body. You couldn't fully describe it but it felt as if your heart was enveloped around ice when you weren't near Jungkook, however the slightest touch or simple glance from him were enough to set you aflame.

He opened the door for you and you stepped out of the vehicle. His hand found home in between your fingers as he led you silently toward the front door.

"Young master, welcome."

Spoke the maid at the entrance. She bowed at Jungkook and you with stiff movements that made you take a deep breath. This is it. You thought to yourself as Jungkook gave the maid a simple nod before asking in his professional voice. He was here to deal business, nothing more, nothing less.

"Is my father in his study?"

"Yes, young master. He's waiting for you. Mrs. Jeon, would you like me to take your coat?"

You turned to look at the elegant maid with kind eyes yet your voice came firm as you spoke your next words.

"It's alright. We won't be here long anyway, but thank you."

The maid bowed down to both of you as Jungkook led you through the house and up the large staircase toward his father's study. His steps were determined, strong and confident. You followed next to him, your hand still clasped in his.

Jungkook had you as his equal in this situation were his future was on the line while you had him as support to the thorns that wanted to hurt your marriage with your sweet husband whom you loved so very much you feared your heart would explode with the amount of love you held for the man walking next to you.

The double doors were opened by two maids and you and Jungkook entered your father-in-law's studio hand in hand. Tension immediately rose in the room. You practically could cut it with a knife. Mr. Jeon stood up from his chair, a shiver ran down your spine but if it was due to the chilly room or the coldness of his eyes, you couldn't exactly tell.

"Welcome. This will be short, I only need you, Jungkook, to sign some papers and then this scandalous situation will be over."

You felt Jungkook's hand tighten around yours, his father's words spurring emotions in his heart he rather kept hidden. You squeezed his hand back in silent reassurance which made him physically relax a bit yet not completely.

"Where do I sign?"

Asked your husband in a detached voice. He was here for an entirely business deal. No emotion was carried by his voice and the tension rose once more in the room, like icicles trying to break the peace that surrounded your marriage with Jungkook.

Mr. Jeon sighed before his eyes lowered, his hands opened a file only for then to turn it upside down so that Jungkook was able to read it properly, he put an expensive black pen next to it and the coldness once more invaded the place.

Your husband let go of your hand as he walked toward the mahogany desk. His steps were large and precise, without hesitation. You found yourself admiring the control he had over his emotions, of his actions. Of how people viewed him. Even when he was in the presence of his own parents.

How sad it must have been for him to wear that mask required by society in front of his parents as well. It must have been tiring. The thought crossed your head before you could stop however, you came to notice how relaxed he was in his home with you. How domestic he appeared in your eyes. Then again, who said you weren't also wearing such a disguise?

You made eye contact with your father-in-law as the shuffling of paper echoed around the walls. You could read in his dark eyes the challenge he carried within him, the arrogance. The slight disappointment he had in Jungkook when he didn't divorce you. The frustration cursing through his veins was obvious to your eyes that only held love and support toward the man who had married you.

"So, according to this, I will no longer be the heir of the company?"

His father nodded, his hands clasped in front of him before he spoke in a monotonous tone.

"Yes, Jeon Enterprises will pass to your Cousin Marlene, I believe she is now in the States. She's already been notified of this."

Silence stretched in the room once more as your eyes focused on your husband. Your heart thumped in your chest ever so quickly you were scared the two men in the study could hear its frantic beating.

"You'll keep your current position but you'll work for us. Are you sure you want to do this, Jungkook?"

But your husband paid him no mind. He wasn't going to be controlled like a puppet. Not anymore. Not when his future, you, were on the line. Never. Jungkook signed the documents, the scraping of the pen over the paper reached your ears and your heart fluttered at his actions.

Jungkook put the pen aside and straightened back to his full height. His eyes pierced those of his father with no emotion at all.

"If that is all then we'll be on our way. My wife and I already have plans."

The older man let out a deep sigh, looking at his son with melancholy or disappointment, you really couldn't tell. Butterflies flew in your stomach when Jungkook called you like that. "My wife." His. You were his just as he was yours. Tangled with the ribbon of fate and tied with a knot of love.

"I'll let you know if there's anything more but for now, that is all."

Jungkook nodded, turning around and when his back was towards his father, he offered you a soft smile. Kind in its nature. Happy in its existence. You smiled back as he walked to you and his hand found home around yours.

"Let's go."

And with that, he led you outside of the study and through the hallway. Mr. Jeon was left in his expensive and luxurious study, pondering if what he had done had been the right decision. It wasn't his fault Jungkook had fallen in love with you and it wasn't your fault that you were sterile. Was it really worth it to discard the company from his son's rightful heritage only for a drama his wife made?

But there was no turning back. There was nothing to be done if he were to feel guilty about his choice. Because as the owner of Jeon Enterprises, Jungkook's father had in him the power to leave the company to whoever he pleased. Was it really worth it?

"Jungkook."

Mrs. Jeon spoke as she stood next to the large staircase. Her piercing eyes went from Jungkook to you and back to him. You squeezed your husband's hand in reassurance. You were next to him, just like every future time he'll have to face anything, you'll stand next to him as his wife.

"Mother."

You felt how the tension rose once more between mother and son and you straightened your back before saying in a steady voice.

"If you'll excuse us, Mrs. Jeon, there's an appointment we need to attend to. I hope we'll meet again under better circumstances."

She eyes you up and down and you feel how she scrutinised you with her gaze alone. But you weren't going to back down. You had your husband next to you and he had you as well. You sent her a polite smile and she nodded in a stiff manner before you turned to the staircase and pulled on your joined hands with Jungkook before he followed you down the marble stairs with his mother's eyes piercing the top of your head as if she could burn you with her anger cursing through her veins.

"You will regret this, Jungkook! You'll regret it for the rest of your life!"

But her words fell on deaf ears. Jungkook didn't need their fame, he didn't need their support anymore and there was no point in keeping a relationship with the people who brought him to this world if it was going to be so toxic he felt like he couldn't breathe anymore.

He had you know. Your presence, your existence was like a new and fresh breeze on a spring day. You brought him hope, you gave him your heart and with it, your love. Your trust. Your life was in his hands. Just as he had given you his heart ever so willingly; without an ounce of hesitation in his actions, in his words, in his thoughts about you. His lover. His wife. His (y/n).

You stood in the lift as it went up to your shared apartment. Your hand was held in Jungkook's larger palm as his thumb ran delicate circles over your knuckles.

You still were surprised at how easily he had given up on his inheritance because of you. Because he loved you. Because he wanted you. He cherished you and gave you your place as his wife. You didn't doubt you would have done the same had you been in his shoes.

The feeling of your heart thumping against your chest for the man you had married made you smile softly. At him. At his love. At what had been built between you both where nothing existed, not a castle stood. A castle of love.

The elevator dinged and the doors opened. Jungkook's hand squeezed yours in an involuntary way but it made your cheeks heat as butterflies fluttered in your stomach. The both of you walked out of the lift hand in hand and down the large corridor that led to your shared apartment.

When you two rounded a corner, you had to suppress a gasp as you nearly collided with two other men who were walking at a fast pace from the other end of the corridor. You recognised them vaguely, as if you had seen them before but couldn't quite place where. Unbeknownst to you, Jungkook tensed ever so slightly at the sight of his friends and coworkers.

"Jimin, Namjoon. What are you both doing here?"

Now you knew where you had seen them. Both Jimin and Namjoon had attended the small wedding ceremony between you and Jungkook nearly a year ago.

"I... well, you see-"

"We visited a friend, Kook. I'm glad to see you, you haven't been at the company for some time now."

The shorter one spoke. Jimin, you remembered his name was Jimin. The man had a pleasing smile over his plump lips and you also noticed he had recently dyed his hair a sandy shade of blond that suited him perfectly.

Jungkook nodded, eyes going from Namjoon to Jimin and then back again.

"How are you, Mrs. Jeon? We haven't seen you since forever."

Spoke Namjoon and you smiled. Reminiscing how you both had shared talks about different books and art, you being a writer yourself he valued your opinion greatly.

"I've been fine, Namjoon. Thanks for asking, I hope everything's going well at the company?"

Your question made them nod and Jungkook bit his lip, this interaction was lasting more than it should have. To begin with, it shouldn't have occurred in the first place. This could totally ruin Jungkook's plans to spend the evening with you.

"Oh, yes. Please don't worry about that but do tell Jungkook here to stop pestering us about the monthly reports already! We have a big loan already!"

You couldn't help but laugh at Jimin's comment, the sound resonating across the walls. Jungkook sighed loudly, visibly irritated by his friends who teased him in front of you.

"Yeah well, keep going like this and there'll be no salary increase for you both."

Jungkook began walking once more, tugging on your joined hands as you laughed out loud at the scared face Namjoon made and the eye roll from Jimin.

"See you guys around!"

You were able to say that before Jungkook dragged you into the apartment and closed the door behind him leaving Jimin and Namjoon standing in the middle of the corridor.

"Do you think he'll do it?"

Asked the taller man as they both began walking down the hall and towards the lifts. His hands shoved into his trouser pockets and a relaxed expression over his face.

"He better do it."

Jimin pressed the button to go to the ground floor, a hand running over his hair as he frowned slightly.

"He better do it, hyung, or I swear I'll kill him."

Namjoon laughed and the elevator's doors closed. Leaving behind nothing but silence in the empty hallway.

Jungkook had taken your coat from you before he had disappeared into the kitchen saying he was thirsty. You sighed in content as you took off your shoes and placed your purse on the entrance table before you walked away from the door wearing your comfortable slippers.

"Kook?"

You asked, but he wasn't in the kitchen and you frowned at his absence. Silence engulfed the flat and you walked to the living room and the dining room but he wasn't there.

"He couldn't have just disappeared into thin air, now can he?!

You muttered to yourself as your feet carried you to your shared bedroom. The door was slightly ajar so you pushed it with your palm and gasped at what you saw inside.

"I thought it would take you longer to come here."

Jungkook said and you stepped forward, eyes roaming around the bedroom. The curtains were pulled to the sides, the mesmerising sunset painting the sky tinted the room in a soft orange hue it warmed your heart instantly.

There were red rose petals on the ground, and the bed was dressed in black sheets with white petals on it. Transparent balloons filled the ceiling as they floated up and you couldn't help the smile that graced your lips.

"Kook, what's this?"

He walked over to you, standing at arm's length as his eyes lost themselves in your own. His heart was beating wildly in his chest; he feared you could hear it. His hands were behind his back as he looked down at you.

"Jimin and Namjoon took longer than anticipated."

You laughed, so that was why Namjoon seemed so nervous at the beginning. The sound of your laughter made butterflies swirl in his stomach, the sight of you, bathed in the golden light of the sun, smiling up at him was enough to send him to heaven.

"(y/n),"

How delicious it was to hear your name coming out of his lips. You looked at him with a soft gaze he thought he'd melt right then and there.

"my beautiful wife."

You blushed at the compliment, breaking eye contact as you looked down in a futile attempt at hiding your flustered state. He chuckled, finding the situation so beautiful in its own existence. Wishing he could frame this precise moment and look at it forever.

His hands untangled themselves from behind his back, one was shoved into his trouser pocket while the other lifted your chin with the tips of his fingers. The moment your eyes met his once more, you felt like melting against him. It was perfect.

"I love you so much, sweet one. So, so much."

You swallowed, feeling his words through your heart as it skipped a beat.

"I love you as well, Jungkook. With all my heart."

He smiled. the bunny smile you loved so much. That smile that was the source of your happiness. That smile that was only his.

"We have faced so many things together."

His hand moved and cradled your cheek, the touch burning you while freezing you in your spot at the same time. You wanted him. In every sense of the word. He did things to you that you had never felt before. He made you feel loved like no-one else had done, he made you feel cherished, wanted, needed. And you could only hope he felt the same way. Because you loved him, you cherished him, you wanted him and needed him just as much.

"I wish we had met under different circumstances but that doesn't mean I am not grateful for what he has grown to be as a couple."

Your hand came up and covered the once that cradled your cheek, your hand over his sending tingles all over his arm and to his body he felt fuzzy, happy to just be with you. To just have you in this moment, exactly like this.

"I have grown to care for you like I have never cared for another woman in my life, (y/n). You are everything to me. Everything, sweetheart. I cannot imagine my life without you."

Your eyes began to water at the sweet words dripping from his lips. Coated in sugar, meant to wash away the sour taste left behind by life itself.

He sighed and took a step back, his hand left your cheek and you instantly felt cold at the loss of his touch. Jungkook looked at you with soft brown and big eyes before he knelt down on one knee. His right hand picked up a small box from his trouser's pocket and you nearly gasped when he opened it.

"We are already married and the promises I made to you on our wedding day are still fresh on my mind. I will fulfil them as my duty to you as a husband but this ring, love, this ring is a promise to you as your lover."

You bit your bottom lip, trying to stop it from trembling as a little tear rolled down your cheek at his words.

"I promise to love you until my last breath. I promise to cherish you as my wife. You will never need anything, your desires are my commands, (y/n). You rule my heart like a Queen rules her kingdom. Now, I ask you with all the sincerity in this world: will you love me as well?"

A sob escaped your lips before your hands went up to cover your mouth. You nodded fiercely as you tried to wipe your tears away. He smiled, standing up and taking the ring out of the small velvety box. His larger hand took your left one and he slid the ring on top of your wedding band. A seal to his love. The two rings even matched.

"Yes. A million times yes. I love you, Jungkook. I love you with all I have in me, with everything. Forever."

The next moment, his lips were on yours. Your hands rested on his shoulders as he cradled your face, his lips dancing with yours in the steps of love.

The kiss was sweet. As sweet as sugar. You poured all the love, all the longing, all the desire into that kiss while Jungkook let his emotions flow into that single act of love. He allowed you to feel how his heart beat for you, how his mind wouldn't stop thinking about you and how his hand itched to touch you.

Your hands ran to the back of his neck before they were running through his dark locks. A soft groan escaped his throat when you tugged on his hair slightly. You moaned as his hands slid down your cheek and towards your waist, pressing you against him.

Passion bloomed in that moment. Starting with a sweet kiss and ending with the promise of eternal love.

Jungkook guided you to the bed, the back of your knees hit the bed and he pushed you down on the mattress gently, hovering over you without breaking the kiss.

Perhaps sour caramels do have sweet centres after all.

As sweet as sugar. As sweet as love. As sweet as life.

Combined into a sweet marriage of eternal devotion and beautiful love.

~Masterpost

March/03/2024

☕Caffeinate me so I can keep on writing! ☕

Drabbles are open for this AU!

167 notes · View notes

sopebubbles · 1 year ago

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Sorry i forgot the extended taglist. Im a mess

@neverthefirstchoice @kameko-ko @sehun096rainbow @fluffyspaceprincess @fluffy-canada-pancakes @armyloveot7 @katcutie @samararose21 @littlebaby-bunbun @thatfatbussy01 @kooslilhoe @forevermoremagcon @lovelgirl22 @zae007live @mushroom-main @serious-addiction @princess-sunshyn @roguesthetic @jenniferk101 @bookingsunshine @mageprincess7 @idk179634 @lovelyaliengirl @welcometomyworld13 @chaoticevilcappuccino @mingods @generouschildcolor @babyboytae1 @bangtanxberm @kaceypdf @popcatx0 @blaaiissee @joonsblossom @haechanlyh @belikejk @distinguisheddestiny @amara-mars @burningfanflowercash @lady-belz @ravenswritingroom @thelilbutifulthings @purplelo @dragons-flare @nikkiordonez12 @sweetcarrotsandroses97 @xjiminsthighsx

Master List

Sixteen

Synopsis: in a world where alphas, betas, and omegas live along side modern humans as second class citizens, you've fallen through the cracks of a society that wants to take everything wonderful from you. Luckily a timely encounter with the boys just might save your life.

Chapter summary: getting closer with the pack means you'll have to learn to live with Kim Namjoon.

Warnings: drinking, breaking things, yknow namjoon stuff.

WC: 7.6K

After both your heats, you and Hoseok were nearly inseparable. When you were home, you followed him around like a little puppy, and he absolutely adored it. He appreciated how well you had taken care of his home and everyone in it while he was off his feet. When he told you as much, you assured him that it was your pleasure, and you would gladly do any chores he needed from you.

But your housework wasn't the only thing Hoseok had come to love.

You had become his new favorite cuddle buddy, much to your tiny pack's annoyance. Any time he could get his arms around you, he'd have you settled right against him with a proud smile on his face. And you certainly weren't complaining. You'd never known that omegas' cuddles were the best. Soft and warm and sweet smelling. Being held by Hobi was bliss. You wouldn't admit it to anyone, but you felt a bit of jealousy every time you scented Jin's sweet, nutty smell on Hoseok's skin, knowing that he had gotten to hold your omega all night long.

It wasn't until you came home from work one afternoon a few weeks after your heat and Hobi pulled you onto the couch, insisting you take a nap, that you realized something was different. You could still smell the light fragrance of Hoseok's body wash, so you knew he'd showered a few hours ago. But he smelled like praline pecans. Nutty like Seokjin, and different from Hoseok normal brown sugar. A new blend of the two.

"I'm going to stop working," you said suddenly.

He pulled back so he could look down at your face. "That would be great, but why so sudden?"

You shrugged and nestled back into his chest. "I just want to help you here more. It seems kind of silly to be cleaning for other people when I should be here cleaning with you."

He couldn't argue with that. Yoongi had told him about how you had called their house your home after your last heat, and it made his heart soar. He certainly wasn't going to deny you the domestic bliss he had always wanted to share.

"I like the sound of that," he murmured into your hair. "I would love to keep you here."

You were anxious to tell Yoongi about your decision, but when he got home he looked stressed and dejected. His shoulders hunched in a way you hadn't ever seen before. Seeing him look so weary made your heart ache. You approached him quietly as he took off his shoes in the entryway.

When you took his hand, one look into your sympathetic doe eyes was all it took to bring a genuine, lighthearted smile to his face. Somehow, one look from you and your tiny hands around his large one manifested energy from thin air. He pulled you closer and cradled you against his chest. Silent, except for a soft happy rumble in his chest, he held you like that for several minutes, but you wouldn't move for all the world, content to gently sway in his arms.

"Was it a bad day?" You asked softly. He hummed. "Come sit down, and I'll get you something to eat," you told him as you pulled away, ready to take his hand and guide him down the hall to the kitchen. But he pulled you back, unready to allow so much space between you. He picked you up by the backs of your thighs and hoisted you up, leaving you no choice but to wrap your arms and legs around him.

"In a minute," he mumbled into your neck, where he took deep breaths of your scent, allowing it to fill his lungs and soothe his nerves.

You complied and let him carry you to the couch as if you were no more than a child. Even if he was tired, holding you was nothing, not compared to the benefits.

"What happened?" you pressed gently after a moment.

"Nothing, really." He didn't need to burden you with the DOA he'd had today. Car crashes could cause such carnage, and he didn't need you to think of that. "I asked my supervisor if I could switch to a permanent day shift, but he denied me," he said after a moment of toying with your hair between his fingers.

"Oh. Why did you want to change?"

"I was hoping it would allow me to spend more time with you," he admitted. "I hate that I'm not able to see you. One of us is always working."

"Oh." A smile tugged at your lips and you cleared your throat. "Well, actually, I was thinking…" He lifted your chin gently with his fingers to see your eyes and waited for you to go on. "I want to quit my job. I-if that's okay."

"Really?" He asked excitedly as he pushed you away to look at your face better.

"Yeah, if it's not a problem," you answered quietly.

Yoongi pulled your hips tighter against him. "Of course it's not a problem! I was never going to tell you to quit, but I was always hoping you would. But why now? Did something happen at work?" His expression turned serious in an instant.

You shook your head. "No. Work is fine. I just feel like it's time to help Hobi out. And I can take care of you and Jimin. You're my pack after all."

"We don't expect you to cook and clean for us, princess," he said, tucking your hair behind your ear. Even though he meant it, he felt his heart flutter knowing you might want to.

"But it's my job."

"It isn't. That's not why we want you here. It's not why we're keeping you around. It never will be." His tone was serious. His eyes looked intently into yours. Heat flushed all over your body, and you tried to backtrack.

"I know that, Yoongi. I actually wasn't thinking that way, which is kind of funny because normally I would. This isn't a-take-care-of-alpha-before-he-throws-you-out thing. I just care about you and I think about taking care of you a lot. Want to know if you're eating well and sleeping well."

Yoongi's smile returned, and he pulled you closer, resting his forehead against your cheek. "Good. That makes me more happy than you'll ever know."

"Aish. I'm not really doing it for you," you teased. "I want to stay home and help Hobi."

"Ah, yes, you're new BFF," he teased back. "That's fine. I'm sure he'll be happy."

You nodded. "I'll put my two weeks notice in tomorrow."

"Why bother? Just quit. You're never gonna need another job again." He grasped the back of your head and pulled you into a passionate kiss, leaving you breathless.

"Aren't you gonna eat something?" You asked hazily, a long moment later.

"Yeah," he grinned. "I'll eat you,"

"No!" You screamed amid your giggles as he playfully tried to bite your neck, tickling your sides at the same time. When you were gasping for breath, he scooped you up in his arms again and carried you into the kitchen. He set you down to sit on top of the kitchen counter.

"I'll fix something for you," you told him as he walked toward the refrigerator.

"You stay," he ordered as he looked inside. "Did you cook this?" he asked, showing you a container of the leftovers from the evening's dinner. You nodded. "Then your work here is done," he said before placing the meal in the microwave.

"I heard the sound of a happy pup," Jimin said as he entered the kitchen. You blushed when he stood beside you. He had been sitting in the pack's nest with Namjoon and Jungkook when they heard your screams and laughter. He wasn't the only one curious, but he was the only one who ventured out to see what was going on.

Yoongi beamed. "Y/N has decided to quit her job and stay home."

"Oh, good thing you made that choice before Taehyung started courting you," Jimin responded slyly.

"What do you mean? Court me?" You stared at him in confusion.

Yoongi nodded. "It's true. He asked me for my blessing already. I told him I don't mind. He said he's going to take it slow, not jump into anything. But now you'll have plenty of time to get to know each other." Yoongi wriggled his eyebrows.

Your voice caught in the back of your throat. Too many feelings swirled deep in your stomach, and you couldn't parse them out. "You don't mind?" you finally asked.

Yoongi gave you a soft smile and lifted your face to meet his eyes. "As much as I love our little pack, I've always known it wouldn't always be the three of us. I mean, I hoped. There's no rush, but I think some day it will probably be all eight of us. And that will be great, too."

You tried not to think about that possibility too often. It made your head spin. Seven packmates. Four alphas. You weren't sure you could handle it. "But I only want you to be my alpha. If Jin–" you cut yourself off abruptly.

"If Jin what, princess?"

"If Jin wants to claim me, won't he be my pack alpha? But I only want you to be my pack alpha!"

Yoongi couldn't bear how childlike you sounded. It made his heart hurt to hear you so anxious and confused. He smoothed a hand over your hair and pulled your head to his shoulder.

"It's okay, baby. Jin will never be your pack alpha. I'll always be your number one. You really think I'd let anyone take my place in your heart?" he cooed.

"What are you so worried for?" Jimin chided. "Who's talking about Jin? It's just Taehyung right now. He's a great alpha. You'll see."

You sniffed and pulled away from Yoongi when the microwave beeped. "Why did you say it was good I'm quitting my job because of him?"

Jimin smirked. "Taehyung could never allow his omega to work outside the home."

"Why not?"

"One, it's too dangerous. It would drive his anxiety crazy. Best to keep omegas safe in the den. Two, it would hurt his pride. He makes more than enough money to support you and Hobi all on his own. And three, Taehyung may have the disposition of a golden retriever, but even the sweetest dogs don't like strange dogs looking at their bones." Jimin grinned deviously.

You pushed his shoulder. "I'm not a bone!"

"Oh, yeah? Just wait until he starts gnawing on you!" Jimin picked up your arm and pretended to bite it much like Yoongi had before, and again, you thrilled them both with your shrieks and giggles.

While the days got longer and hotter with more sunlight, it seemed that each workday dragged on slower than they ever had before. You were diligently waiting your two weeks, but by the time you were nearly there, you wished you'd taken Yoongi's advice to just quit. You were aching to be at home every minute you were gone, and that was a feeling you had never known before.

When Yoongi brought you home on your next to last day of work, you walked into something you'd never seen at the house before. It was something of a party atmosphere, and they were all celebrating the end of the school year alongside Namjoon. Jin and Jimin had yet to return home, but Jungkook and Namjoon had beers in hand, chatting cheerfully at the kitchen table while Taehyung put out snacks on the counter. You walked carefully past them to wash your hands before you sidled up beside Hoseok where he was forming beef patties between his delicate hands.

"Hamburgers for dinner?" You asked.

Hoseok smiled down at you and gestured to the side with his head. "You can slice those onions and tomatoes," he told you before you could ask to help.

When the rest of the pack came home, you all accompanied Hobi outside on the patio while he grilled the burgers. Yoongi anxiously held you back from getting too close to the flames, nervous you might hurt yourself. The afternoon was lovely, and you all decided on eating outside to enjoy the spring weather. You spent most of the time clinging to Yoongi, either in his lap or next to him, holding his hand. He didn't mind in the slightest, nor did he mind the jealous looks he received from Taehyung, who tried to make the both of you jealous by fawning over Jimin. All of them were oblivious to the true reason for your clinginess.

Namjoon tended to stand quietly on the fringes of Seokjin's pack. His status was never in question, and he didn't shy away from sharing his thoughts and feelings, but whenever you were all together, he simply allowed others to take center stage. But tonight was different. Tonight was his celebration for another completed school year, and he felt no need to stay to the side and listen to others. For once, he dominated the majority of the conversation, discussing funny memories from the school year and a few complaints he usually tried to swallow. As the night grew longer and he drank more, his voice boomed louder across the large backyard and you pressed yourself closer to Yoongi.

When it got dark and the air turned chilly, everyone moved back into the kitchen. You were exhausted, but decided to help clean up before you tried to excuse yourself to go to bed. Everyone was having a good time, all of them drinking a little even though you didn't, and you didn't want to bring the mood down, but you were growing tired. When you finished washing the dishes you went to stand by Yoongi, who was laughing heartily to the story that Namjoon was telling. You could wait a few more minutes, but you didn't really want to go to bed alone, and you didn't want to miss out, listening to all their laughter from your room while you sat alone. As Namjoon continued his story, he gestured wildly with his hands. The condensation on the beer bottle made it slick, and the brown glass suddenly flew out of his hand, whizzing past your head in a blur. You were hiding under the counter by the time the glass hit the wall, shattering to pieces and dumping its liquid all over the floor. Shards of class popped around the room as you buried your head in your knees and covered yourself with your arms. A scream built in your throat, but you knew better than to let it out.

Don't scream. Don't scream. It'll only be worse if you scream.

The whole room went silent and motionless for two seconds as they registered what happened. Then at once everything was in motion. Yoongi got out of his chair to check if you were alright, but Taehyung was quicker. He didn't take a moment to ask how you were or assess the damage. He simply gathered you into his arms and lifted you off the ground, careful not to bang your head on the granite countertop. He carried you directly up the stairs and to your room, with Yoongi behind him and Jimin bringing up the rear.

In the kitchen, the remaining two alphas stood, frozen in shock, but Hoseok didn't waste any time putting on shoes and grabbing the broom.

"Hobi, let me," Namjoon tried to say, reaching for the broom when he finally came out of his stupor.

The omega pulled away. "I got it. You stay over there until I get this all cleaned up. There's lots of glass."

The flat, subdued tone of his voice hurt Namjoon as much as the way Hobi wouldn't look at him. "It was an accident," he whispered.

"We know that, Joonie," Jungkook assured him with a light smile. "It's not like it's the first time you've broken something around here. It's just…" His eyes drifted toward the stairs.

"I would never throw something at her," Namjoon defended.

"I know, babe, I know. But she doesn't. It's natural for her to be scared. Don't take it too personally. She's just skittish," Jungkook tried to convince him.

Hoseok felt a tug of war within himself. He was usually always the first one to comfort Namjoon when he accidentally broke something or made a mess. But now he really wanted to check on you, to make sure you weren't hurt or scared. He wanted to hold you in his arms, but he knew if he ran off with the others it would hurt Namjoon, and he knew that it wasn't really his fault. Namjoon was just clumsy, some might say cursed. He never meant to cause chaos, but he did anyway. You would get used to it, eventually, but right now the omega could understand perfectly why you were afraid Namjoon might hurt you without even intending to. His head swirled with competing worries as he swept up the glass and dumped it into the trash can.

"Are you hurt?" Yoongi asked as Taehyung set you down at the edge of your nest. He shouldered the younger alpha out of the way to examine you. You were still too stunned to answer, but it didn't really matter; Yoongi was going to look over every available inch of you regardless. He gently tilted your face this way and that to make sure it was unscathed before he moved onto your arms, lifting and twisting each in turn to ensure your skin was unharmed. There was a small cut on your forearm and he frowned. It wasn't even from the incident that had unfolded moments before. It was from work earlier today, and the blood was already dry—you hadn't even felt it at the time.

"Jimin, go get the first aid kit from the bathroom," he instructed, holding your arms carefully.

Feeling Yoongi's steady hands on you helped to ground you and bring you back to your body, out of your shock and panic. You took in a deep breath and breathed out, "I'm okay."

Jimin shuffled back into the room carrying the first aid kit and handed it to Yoongi. The alpha plucked out an alcohol pad and ripped open the packet with his teeth, spitting out the torn piece.

"It's gonna sting," he whispered, but you didn't react as he swiped it over your skin. "It's dry." You looked down to the very minor wound he was tending to.

"That was from work. It's fine," you told him, but he didn't seem to hear you. He had already taken a bandage from the kit—neon pink—and gently but firmly pressed it over your cut. "Yoongi?" He looked up into your eyes and you could see his own were full of worry. He shrugged.

"It makes me feel better."

You cracked a genuine smile and it lifted some of the weight off his chest.

"Are you sure you're okay, sweet little?" Taehyung asked. His hands were still shaking from the course of adrenaline when he thought you were in danger.

You nodded. "I'm okay. I was just scared. I'm not hurt."

"You shouldn't be scared at home," he replied.

"Come sit with me," you said softly, patting the spot next to you. Your heart ached to see how distressed he was over you. Taehyung lowered his head and came to sit near you, not quite in your nest, but just outside of it. When he got close you realized something the rest of them hadn't. They'd been too worried about you to assess their own well-being.

"Tae, you're covered in beer."

He had been standing closest to where the bottle had hit the wall and, as a result, had gotten sprayed with the contents as well as some glass.

"You're bleeding," you added. "Yoongi, your patient is right here."

Your alpha smiled weakly at how brave you were trying to be. He could tell by the way you were still shaking that you weren't as calm as you pretended to be, but he would talk to you about it in a little while when things settled. For now he turned to Taehyung. Without a word, he began to clean the man's wound, and you held his hand while he winced through the burn on the alcohol. You pulled a neon pink bandage from the box beside you and handed it to Yoongi to apply.

"Now we match," you told him, and it brought a bright, boxy smile to Taehyung's face.

"Why are you the one comforting me?" He asked, bumping your shoulder.

"Why don't you go clean up and get changed? Then maybe you can come cuddle me in the nest?" You offered. "If you want to," you added quickly.

Taehyung nodded enthusiastically. "Be right back," he said before scurrying out of the room.

"Yoongi, you need to go downstairs and see if everyone is okay down there," you told him.

He growled softly, mumbling, "They can take care of themselves."

"Alpha," you cooed, reaching out to touch his cheek, "don't be like that." He pouted for a moment, but nodded and gathered the pieces of trash from his work before he took the first aid kit downstairs.

"What about me?" Jimin stood proudly in front of you, fists in his hips, waiting for his instructions.

"You come cuddle me until the others come back." He didn't waste a second, shucking off his pants and shirt. You'd gotten used to the fact that Jimin preferred to sleep only in boxers. Who were you to force clothes on him if he slept better without? After your heat, it had ceased to make you the slightest bit uncomfortable. He quickly climbed onto the bed, wrestling you into the nest and underneath his body, where he could get the upper hand on you and make the last of our distressed scent disappear as quickly as it had come.

When Yoongi reached the bottom of the steps, Namjoon turned anxiously to look at him. He was cleaning the last of the beer off the wall, looking rather like a pup with his tail between his legs. This was hardly a rare scenario for him, cleaning up his own mess no matter how Hobi tried to tell him to leave it. It wasn't the first glass he'd broken nor the first drink spilled. Namjoon was a walking disaster. He knew that. It couldn't be helped, and everyone knew that, too. But normally, everyone would stick around to help and cheer him up and comfort him when he made a silly mistake like this. This time, half his pack had disappeared up the stairs with you, and he couldn't help feeling a bit hurt about it. He regretted it. He always did, but he couldn't take it back, and he just couldn't change. He opened his mouth to explain to Yoongi, but nothing came out.

"Is she hurt?" Hoseok asked from the sink, after Yoongi and Namjoon had stared at each other for several tense seconds. Yoongi's face was a cold mask of stone, revealing nothing but disdain. Namjoon looked utterly crestfallen.

"She's not hurt. Just scared," Yoongi answered, shaking his head when he finally broke eye contact with Joon.

"That's a relief," Namjoon sighed, and his face showed his relief was real.

"Taehyung got cut up a little bit," Yoongi said sharply. It was petty, but he didn't want the younger alpha to feel as if there was no harm done, and he didn't expect Namjoon to care that you'd been shaken up.

"Is it bad?" Jin asked, looking concerned.

Yoongi shook his head again. "I patched him up. Y/N invited him into her nest to make him feel better, I think." He paused for a second, thinking about your behavior. "She sent me down here to see if anyone was hurt."

"We're all fine, Yoongi. Come have a seat," Jungkook replied, pulling out the chair beside him.

"I should go back to her."

"Yoongi." Jin's voice wasn't raised, but it was loud and firm enough to have Yoongi freezing as he turned away. He hugged the first aid kit to his stomach and dropped his chin. "I'm sure Jimin and Tae are taking perfectly good care of her. Come sit for a minute."

Yoongi hated the way it felt like he was in trouble, when he knew he had no reason to be. He hadn't gone and ruined a perfectly nice evening, or spooked his very nervous omega. But he turned and walked slowly to the table to sit anyway.

"You know it was an accident," Jin said calmly.

"I know," Yoongi answered curtly.

"Just let him apologize." Jin's voice was the slightest bit pleading, as if he were desperate to avoid more conflict between his alphas.

"I really am sorry, Yoongi. I would never–"

"You don't need to apologize to me," Yoongi interjected. "I'm not angry. Maybe if she'd been hurt…but I know you can't control your body. You've never been able to. I get that. But she doesn't know. She's terrified you will hurt her, just by accident. And with you accidents are bound to happen."

"I–" Namjoon began, but the other alpha didn't let him finish.

"Do you know how it hurts me to see her afraid? After all the horrors in her life, I only want to keep her from feeling afraid. I don't just want her to be safe. I want her to feel safe. And if she can't then we…If she can't feel safe with you…" The look of pure devastation on Yoongi's features hurt Namjoon more than any other thing could have.

"What can I do, Yoongi? Tell me. I'll make it right," he begged.

Yoongi sighed, desperate to keep himself together. "If you and her are going to live in the same house…if you're going to spend the whole summer together, you have to try to be gentler. Please try."

Namjoon reached across the table to lay his hand over Yoongi's where he clutched the kit still.

"I will try. I promise. I'll be more careful," Namjoon assured him. Yoongi merely nodded silently, unsure if that would be enough to settle all your nerves about the pack's largest alpha. As if he could read Yoongi's mind, Jin cleared his throat.

"I think, maybe, Y/N might feel a little more comfortable with us if she could see that you're comfortable with us," he suggested quietly. Yoongi's eyes flickered to the pack alpha's and then back to his hands.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," Jin sighed, "you're still holding us at arms length. I get maybe you still want to punish us for what we've done. I don't want to tell you how to feel or to get over it. But how could she ever trust us if she knows you don't?"

"She'll come to her own conclusions,"Yoongi mumbled.

"So you admit that you still don't trust us? You're still angry with me?" Jin sounded frustrated, but Yoongi could hear that really he was just heartbroken. It wasn't a pleasant feeling, knowing that his distance was hurting Jin. He wasn't really angry anymore. He hadn't found the time or energy to be angry. Any spare thought he had went directly to you. Maybe it was unfair, because he knew clearly in this moment that he still carried plenty of love in his heart for Jin and Namjoon.

"I'm not angry," he answered. "I just don't know what you want me to do. I've stayed. I've brought her here—sometimes against my better judgment—I don't know what I'm meant to do to fix things. They just have to heal in their own time." He shrugged.

"But how can they when this is the longest conversation we've had in weeks?"

"I don't know, Jin. It's just not my priority right now!" Yoongi snapped.

"Okay!" Hoseok interjected, coming closer to the men seated at the table for the first time. He'd been hesitant to interfere in the alphas' problems, but he knew both men well enough to see they were on the verge of saying things they didn't mean and would regret later. As soon as he approached, Jungkook's linen scent fluffed through the room, easing away the alphas' tension. "It's all okay. We don't have to solve it all tonight. It's late, and I think we should all just go to bed. Hm?" Hoseok put his hands on Jin's shoulders and gave a squeeze, satisfied when his shoulders relaxed.

"Yeah, fine," Yoongi answered. He stood quickly, scraping the box along the table before he picked it up and moved toward the stairs. He didn't want more conflict. He wasn't trying to prolong their distance. But it was impossible not to want to keep them away when he wanted so badly to be close to you, and to keep you safe.

Yoongi stopped in the bathroom, relieved to hear the giggles of you, Jimin and Taehyung coming through your door. After tucking the first aid kit back into its spot under the sink, he brushed his teeth. Hoseok met his eyes in the bathroom mirror when he stopped outside your door, but neither said a word before the omega slipped into your room to see for himself that you were unharmed. Yoongi remained quiet when he joined the four of you. Jimin had managed to get you into a pair of pajamas and your hair was an adorable disaster from being rolled around in your nest. You'd settled now between Jimin's legs with your back to his bare chest, your attention on Hoseok until Yoongi walked in, but you only spared him a glance. He wondered if even Jimin could tell how hard you were forcing your smile and your happy scent. Had he noticed that your eyes lacked the shine they usually got when the beta scented you silly?

"Come to bed so these kids can get to sleep," Hoseok said to Taehyung while Yoongi changed into his pajamas.

Taehyung whined softly. He'd only just been invited into your nest, and he wasn't ready to leave it already.

"Go on, Tae. Joon needs to know you're not upset with him," Yoongi encouraged quietly.

"Maybe I am," Taehyung mumbled. Hoseok reached for his hand and took it into his lap.

"You know he can't help himself, Tae. Give him a break, okay?"

The alpha grumbled wordlessly, but you nudged him with your foot.

"Go on, Tae Tae. I will be okay. My alpha is here." Taehyung's low rumble turned into a real growl, but you knew it was playful.

"Two alphas are better than one."

"Three are better than two!" Hoseok added. He stood from the edge of the bed and tugged on the youngest alpha's hand to come along. Tae allowed himself to be dragged off the bed, but pulled back to give you one kiss on the top of your head.

"See you tomorrow, sweet little. Sleep tight," he murmured, and then he was gone.

Closing the door, Yoongi turned off the lights before crawling into bed beside you.

"Goodnight," Jimin said, leaning over you to kiss Yoongi, making sure you got properly squished in the process.

"Goodnight," you whispered with a giggle when you received your own kiss.

You said nothing to Yoongi as the two of you cuddled together. Your head laid on his chest, listening to his slow, steady heartbeat as the house slowly went silent. You laid there, but didn't close your eyes, and Yoongi watched you without saying a word. You let the minutes stretch on until you'd been there for almost half an hour.

"How come you aren't sleeping?" you asked softly.

"You aren't sleeping either," he replied. You shifted slightly without moving away and traced his stomach with your fingertips.

"It's hard for me to sleep without your snoring." You felt his chest rise and fall with a huff and looked up to see his gummy smile for just a moment. Then he looked down at you seriously.

"You don't have to pretend for me. You don't have to pretend for anyone, but especially not me." You shifted again, but this time he could tell you were putting space between you.

"I don't know what you mean."

Yoongi grasped your wrist gently before you could move away from him. There wasn't far to go before you would run into Jimin, but he could only bare for you to move as far as it would take for you to look at him eye to eye. He rolled over and scooched down so his gaze was level to yours.

"You don't need to act as if Namjoon didn't scare you. You're still scared now. I don't think I can convince you that you're safe right now, but you are. I'm right here."

Your chest tightened at his words. You whispered, "I know," but it didn't stop your eyes from watering. Yoongi gathered you close, pressing you into his chest.

"I'm so angry."

"It was an–"

"I'm angry with myself. I shouldn't have brought you here." He felt you try to pull away, ready to argue, but he held you tight. "I should have taken you somewhere else. The three of us could have gotten an apartment. Shouldn't have kept you here with such clumsy, stupid alphas." At this point he sounded as though he was talking to himself, mumbling out the thoughts he'd been repeating in his head for the last hour.

"It's okay, Yoongi. I didn't get hurt," you tried to tell him.

"But you got scared, and that's just as bad in my eyes." You managed to pull away from him enough to look up at his face and touch his cheek. "You're still shaking. Do you think I can't feel that? Jimin and Tae scented you, but you didn't feel safe enough to let yourself get all dopey. Do you even realize? I can't stand this, and I hate that you're pretending just so we don't feel bad."

"Yoongi," you frowned and stroked your thumb over his cheekbone. "I'm not pretending because of that. I'm trying to be brave because I want to stay. Namjoon terrifies me, but I like it here. I like living with Hobi and Tae…and you and Jimin here. I'm still scared, but not enough to leave. So let me pretend, okay?" Yoongi sighed, a sign he wasn't accepting this yet. "I may not feel completely safe, but I feel happy. I'm like a stray dog. I may never feel safe, not completely. I might always be a little jumpy. But that doesn't mean I don't love my new home, or that it's not a good home."

Yoongi laughed almost silently and buried his head in your neck. "Don't call yourself a stray dog."

"That's what I am," you replied, combing your fingers through his hair. "I came up to you with big puppy eyes and asked you to stay."

"That's definitely not how it happened," he mumbled. But when he pulled you closer and inhaled your scent, you couldn't help smiling.

"I won't let anything happen to you," he breathed as he relaxed against the nest at last.

"I know," you replied. "So I think we can sleep now."

"Go ahead. I'll watch over you."

Your last shift ended fairly well. The library staff even brought donuts to wish you well. A couple of them who were betas even confessed that they were glad to hear you had settled in with a pack and would be staying home, because they often worried about you. You waited outside the library at your usual spot, pacing and checking your phone as minutes ticked by and terrible thoughts began to creep in.

What if they got into some kind of accident?

What if they dont want you, after all?

Just as you began to spiral into your worst thoughts, a familiar vehicle pulled up abruptly in front of you. Although you'd never ridden inside of it, you could still recognize Namjoon's blue volvo without looking at him, which you only did for the briefest of glances, just to be sure it was really him.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," he said, sounding out of breath as if he'd run instead of driven here.

I wasn't waiting for you, is what you wanted to say, but you merely stood still and stared at him with eyes as wide as saucers.

"Um," he began awkwardly as he got out of the car without killing the engine and walked toward you until he was only a couple yards away. He scratched nervously behind his ear as he tried to start again. "I know you were expecting Taehyung, but he cut his foot on a piece of glass that wasn't cleaned up from last night, and Hobi took him to the emergency room about twenty minutes ago. Didn't they text you?"

You shook your head, remaining silent.

"Yeah…so I was the only other person home so…here I am." He looked anxiously at the car, like he wished you'd just get in and save him the embarrassment of standing here in front of you. "I promise, I'm a good driver. And we don't have to talk or anything, if you don't want to."

You stared at him for a moment longer before your tongue unglued itself from the roof of your mouth.

"Does Yoongi know about this?"

Namjoons throat felt like sandpaper, and he seemed to shrink an inch. He shook his head. "I tried to call him but he didn't answer. He must be busy."

You hadn't moved an inch since he arrived, and he couldn't help wondering if he was really that terrifying.

"I promise, Y/N, I'm not going to hurt you." The idea that you ever thought he would hurt him in a way he couldn't account for. He knew he wouldn't, but the idea that you couldn't believe that cut him deep. What would he do if you never learned to trust him? If you never let him close to you? It wasn't something he ever gave himself permission to want, so why did not having it wound him so? He shook his head clear of the questions. "You can sit in the back and pretend I'm just the chauffeur."

You lifted your chin in his direction and narrowed your eyes. "I think I'll just take the bus."

Namjoons eyebrows raised. You can't possibly think he's that scary, could you? But instead he used what he knew was the only way to convince you.

"Do you really think Yoongi would approve of that?"

Your jaw tightened. You knew he was right. Looking down at your phone, you hoped for a notification from Yoongi, but there was one from Hoseok instead. You swallowed thickly when you read it.

Sorry, pup! There was an emergency. Namjoon should be there to pick you up. I promise it will be okay.

"How do you know you'll take me home and not somewhere else?" You finally asked. Namjoon's eyes grew wide and he actually took a step back. He rubbed his hand over his hair as he tried to process your question.

"What makes you think I would do something like that? What did Yoongi say to you?" Your brow furrowed at the strange question.

"Yoongi didn't have to say anything for me to know you don't want me around," you answered, an edge of bitterness lacing your words. Namjoon nearly choked.

"Y/n, that isn't true."

"If it isn't then why didn't you ever tell yoongi where I was when you knew I worked here? You and Jin didn't want him to know. You don't want me in your pack. I get it. It's fine. But you should know that Yoongi does want me, and if I don't come home there's no telling what he'll do." You were surprised by the firmness of your own voice as well as how sure you felt of your own words. Yoongi did want you, and you knew that was as fierce an attachment for him as it was for you.

Namjoon took several full breaths before he responded. "Y/N, I promise you, all I'm trying to do right now is take you home. I won't lie to you. I didn't want you to become a part of our pack at first but things have…changed. You're a part of our lives now either way. And I wouldn't risk losing Yoongi over you. I never would. So please. Just come home with me," he begged. While the two of you maintained eye contact—for longer than you had ever done before—he fought the instinct to grab you and put you in the car if you continued to protest, but he knew that would only hurt his cause. Just when he was about to lose this staring contest to you, your phone began to ring with Yoongi's ringtone.

"Hello?" You answered, only dropping your gaze from the alpha in front of you for a moment.

"Princess, are you okay?" He asked, sounding out of breath from the way his heart was pounding.

"I think so," you mumbled.

"I got a message from Joon that he was going to pick you up." You narrowed your eyes on the man in question.

"Yeah, he's here." Yoongi sighed in relief. "What should I do? I can take the bus."

"No, princess. Just go home with him, okay? I promise everything will be fine."

"I'm scared," you said so softly that Namjoon couldn't hear it.

"I know, and I'm sorry, but you don't need to be. You'll be safe with him, and I'll feel better if you go with him than on your own. I've got your location on. If anything happens to you I'll be there as soon as possible. But you're going to be okay. Trust me?" It was that simple, really. If Yoongi was asking you to trust him, then you would. As long as Yoongi promised you'd be safe, you'd make yourself believe him. He wouldn't let you down.

"Fine."

"Good girl. I'll be home in a few hours and I'll give you a reward for being so brave." Your cheeks heated at his words, but you couldn't deny loving it when Yoongi sometimes treated you like a child. No one had ever treated you with such gentle care before, and it felt like real love.

"I'll be waiting." You hung up and looked at Namjoon again. He looked back expectantly. "Yoongi said to go home with you. So I guess that's that."

You walked around the vehicle to sit in the back passenger seat, as far from him as possible. Namjoon didn't say a word as you got inside his car and buckled yourself in. As he pulled away from the library, you kept your eyes out the window even though you could feel his gaze on you through the rear view mirror. He chewed nervously on his lip as he glanced back and forth between the road and the mirror, but he kept silent until he was on the main road between the library and the house.

"We should try to be civil, at least," he said at last, speaking as if you'd been privy to the conversation in his head instead of coming into the middle. You didn't respond, so he went on. "We're going to be home together a lot this summer, and it would be easier on everyone if we tried to ease the tension." He finished softly, perhaps knowing he sounded ridiculous to you.

"I'll do my best to keep out from under foot, if you try not to throw anything at me again."

Namjoon deflated with a sigh. "I swear it was an accident."

"That's why I said try."

"I'm just clumsy. I never meant to hurt you."

"Do you honestly think I haven't heard every excuse in the book?" You rolled your eyes. "It just slipped. You ran into my fist. You really should be more careful where you're going."

"Y/N," Namjoon interrupted, trying hard not to become distressed as he drove, but honestly, your words were tearing him apart. Did you really have no idea the effect you had on him? "I'm sorry. I realize I haven't apologized to you directly for last night. I'm sorry for being so careless. I really will try to be more cautious. But I'm also sorry that other people have given you reasons not to trust them, or alphas, or me." He pulled to a stop at a red light and turned in his seat to look at you. "I get that you have no reason to trust me, and that I have to work for it. That's okay. I don't mind. But can you give me the benefit of the doubt and trust that Yoongi wouldn't have me in his life at all if you couldn't trust me?"

At last, you turned your head to look at him. "Why does everyone always pull the Yoongi card on me?"

"Because it always works," he smirked.

"Fuck," you muttered, because he was right. For whatever reason, you trusted Yoongi implicitly. And Namjoon had a point. Your alpha wouldn't have a dangerous person in his life, let alone trust them to be around you. So you merely nodded to his request, and the man turned forward just in time to see the light turn green before he drove you the rest of the way home.

A/n: I don't feel like this has been my best chapter, but I would love to hear your thoughts on it! Thanks for reading!

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sweetcarrotsandroses97 · 6 months ago

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~ Heart Of Secrets |2| Mon Rêve

Pairing: Archdeacon! Jungkook x Romani! Fem! Reader

Word Count: 2.2k words

A/N: Hi, darlings! I'm trying to get back to writing after my extensive break. I'm still not on my 100% but I'm getting better! I really hope you will like this second part of the story. Let me know what you think in the comments! I'd love to hear from you, my darlings :)

Father Jeon Jungkook was a devoted Catholic. He had maintained chastity as he served the Church with his entire being. But lately, his heart had burned with the flames of hellfire when it came to the cute Romani girl that had intrigued him so much. He now knew your name. (y/n). A name that suited you to perfection. A name that repeated over and over in his dreams and was now engraved in his heart.

He woke up with anxiousness lacing his actions as he quickly got dressed before his long strides were carrying him through the stone corridors of the cathedral to the room he had given you last night.

The flickering candlelight sharpened his features and made his shadow look longer than it originally was. His hands trembled at his sides as his palms itched to touch your soft-looking skin. His heart raced at the mere thought of seeing you. The sun was starting to illuminate Paris with their first rays of warm light and Jungkook thought how the sun would look reflected in your enchanting (h/c) locks.

But his hopes crumbled down like a castle of sand when he opened the door to your room only to find it empty. Everything was folded neatly, almost as if no-one had ever stepped into the bedroom as of lately. His heart sank as he stared into the empty room, the neatly arranged furnishings mocking his anticipation.

The silence was heavy, a stark contrast to the bustling energy that had filled his thoughts since he had first laid eyes on you. He had imagined this moment so vividly—envisioned seeing you waking up, greeted by the first light of dawn, perhaps sharing a smile or a quiet conversation.

His eyes swept over the room, searching for any sign of your presence. The bed was immaculate, the linens folded precisely. The clothes he had seen you wear the night before were nowhere to be seen.

Jungkook’s eyes caught sight of something hiding under the bed, highlighted by the colourful rays of sun that filtered through the stained glass window. He bent down, picking out a bracelet made of silver and different gemstones. He had seen you wear it last night when he found you in the nave and you were drenched to the bone.

His hand tightened around it, feeling the metal dig into his skin as he held onto the only object you left behind. The only thing that proved your presence within the cathedral. That what had happened last night was not a dream born of his desires.

Jungkook's breath hitched as he clutched the bracelet, the cold metal grounding him in the harsh reality of your absence. His mind raced with a thousand possibilities, each one more unsettling than the last. Had you left on your own accord, slipping away into the labyrinthine streets of Paris before the sun fully rose? Or had something—or someone—forced you to leave in such haste?

His heart hammered in his chest, the echo of its beats resonating through the silent cathedral. Jungkook could still see the image of you, drenched and shivering, your wide eyes filled with both fear and defiance as you stood before him. He had wanted to protect you, to shelter you within these sacred walls, away from whatever danger had driven you here. But now, that resolve was splintering as dread crept into his soul.

There was nothing that he wanted more in that moment than to go out into the city and search for you but the title of his position and his duties stopped him. He had a role to play, he had a title to uphold and as much as his want to have you near was overwhelming, Jungkook was a man of God. He couldn’t let himself be swayed by simple carnalities.

If you had wanted to stay, you would have. And if you were to come back, he could only pray for it to be soon. As he burned to catch a glimpse of your beauty. If only for just a second would suffice.

Days passed and just as a flame, the archdeacon’s hope began to dwindle to see you again. He had been mesmerised by your beauty and wanted to protect you from the moment you stood in that cathedral seeking refuge. He sighed to himself as the thought crossed his mind, it was six o’clock. His evening Mass had just concluded and he watched from the altar as the parishioners left with soft murmurs that resonated over the tall ceilings of the cathedral.

Jungkook lingered at the altar, his eyes trailing over the last of the parishioners as they filtered out of the cathedral. The sound of their footsteps on the cold stone echoed in the vast, empty space, amplifying the loneliness that had settled deep within him over the past few days.

He had thrown himself into his duties, hoping to drown out the thoughts of you that haunted him both day and night, but it was no use. The memory of your face, your voice, even the way your clothes had clung to your damp skin, had become an indelible part of his mind.

He sighed heavily, his hand instinctively reaching for the bracelet he had tucked into the pocket of his robes. The feel of the cold metal against his fingers was a small comfort, a tangible reminder that you had been real, that your brief presence in his life wasn’t just a figment of his imagination. He had often found himself staring at the door of the room where you had stayed, half expecting to find you there, waiting for him, as if you had never left. But each time he was met with emptiness, the cold reality of your absence hitting him anew.

As the last of the parishioners exited the cathedral, the grand doors creaking shut behind them, Jungkook was left alone in the silence. The soft light of the candles illuminated the altar, casting long shadows that danced across the stone floor. He had always found peace in these moments of solitude after Mass, but now, the quiet only served to amplify the hollow ache in his chest.

He was about to turn and retreat to his quarters when the sound of light footsteps caught his attention. They were hesitant, almost as if the person didn’t want to be heard. His heart leapt into his throat, a mixture of hope and dread flooding his senses. He turned slowly, his gaze sweeping over the dimly lit interior of the cathedral, searching for the source of the sound.

And then he saw you.

You stood at the entrance of the nave, your figure partially obscured by the shadows. But there was no mistaking the outline of your smaller form, the way your (h/c) hair framed your face, catching the flickering light. For a moment, Jungkook thought he was dreaming. His heart raced as he took in the sight of you, his mind struggling to comprehend that you were truly there.

“(y/n).”

He breathed your name in relief, his voice barely a whisper but it seemed to carry across the vast space between you.

You hesitated for a moment before stepping forward, your footsteps echoing softly as you approached. Jungkook couldn’t tear his eyes away from you, his gaze drinking in every detail—the way your dress swayed with each step, the slight tremor in your hands, the uncertainty in your eyes as you looked at him. You stopped a few feet away, your eyes meeting his, and for a moment, neither of you spoke.

“Are you alright?”

Jungkook finally asked, his voice laced with concern. His hands twitched at his sides, fighting the urge to reach out and touch you, to reassure himself that you were truly here.

“Yes, Father Jeon. Please don’t worry about me.”

What an impossible request. He thought to himself. Your tone was polite, but distant, and it cut through Jungkook like a knife. He had imagined this moment so many times, but the reality of it was far from what he had hoped. There was a barrier between you, one that hadn’t existed the night you had sought refuge in the cathedral. He could see it in your eyes, in the way you held yourself as if ready to flee at any moment.

You reached into the small pouch at your side and pulled out a delicate object wrapped in a piece of cloth.

“I wanted to thank you for helping me that night.”

Your voice softened slightly as you held the gift out to him. Jungkook stared at the offering, his heart swelling with a mix of emotions. He accepted the gift with trembling hands, carefully unwrapping the cloth to reveal a small, intricately crafted amulet. The design was unmistakably Romani, the tiny charms and symbols woven together with expert craftsmanship. It was beautiful, and the gesture touched him deeply.

“You will always have a place here if you ever need it, (y/n). You can find sanctuary within these sacred walls. It is a right as a child of God.”

You took in his words. The way his eyes softened while a shadow of a darker part of himself suddenly passed in front of his eyes.

“I do not belong to this place, Father.”

He frowned, noticing the sadness that laced your words. The detachment to which you saw yourself and the only safe place you could run to.

“You belong here as much as I do. Remember, my dear, the cathedral can protect you.”

I can protect you.

But he didn’t say that last sentence out loud. He looked down at the amulet now in his hands, his fingers brushing over the intricate designs.

“It’s beautiful.”

His murmured words reached your ears and you felt your heart skip a beat at his subtle praise. He looked back down at you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of the warmth he had seen that night, but you were already stepping back, your gaze averted.

“I should go.”

Your voice trembled as you spoke, the words rushed as your hands fisted the fabric of your colourful dress. You turned to leave, but Jungkook couldn’t let you go. Not again.

“Wait.”

He called out. His voice was more urgent than he intended. He reached out, his hand gently catching your wrist. You stopped, but you didn’t turn to face him. The young archdeacon swallowed as sparks awoke where his skin touched yours. His chest tightened, so did his grip around your wrist as his mind raced to find the right words.

“What’s wrong, (y/n)? You can tell me. I can help you.”

His thumb brushed over your skin in soothing circles, pleading silently for you to speak, to tell him what was wrong. To accept his extended hand. For a moment, you remained silent, your body tense under his touch. He could feel the conflict within you, the struggle between wanting to confide in him and the fear that held you back. When you finally spoke, your voice was barely above a whisper, laced with an emotion he couldn’t quite place.

“I can’t.”

Your voice was filled with so much sadness and fear that it tugged on his heartstrings. He wanted to yank you toward him and protect you from the world.

“I can’t tell you, Father.”

You turned around, your eyes met his in a turbulent dance of emotions as you spoke once more in a hoarse whisper as tears gathered in your eyes.

“I am a dead woman walking. If I speak… I don’t want you to get hurt as well.”

And just like that, you slipped from his grasp, the loss of your touch leaving his hand cold. You didn’t look back as you walked away, your footsteps echoing in the cathedral as you retreated into the shadows. Jungkook stood there, frozen, watching helplessly as you disappeared from his sight once more.

The door to the cathedral closed softly behind you, the sound reverberating in the empty space, sealing the distance between you. Jungkook remained where he was, the amulet clutched tightly in his hand, his heart heavy with the weight of your departure.

He had failed again—failed to protect you, failed to keep you close. The knowledge of your suffering, of whatever burden you carried, gnawed at him, and he cursed the barrier of his position that kept him from reaching out to you fully. He was a man of God, but he was also just a man—a man who had been captivated by you, whose heart now beat to the rhythm of a name that had become his obsession.

As he stood alone in the cathedral, the candles flickering in the dim light, Jungkook knew that he couldn’t let this be the end. He couldn’t let you slip away, not without knowing what troubled you, not without knowing how he could help. He would find a way to reach you, to tear down the walls between you. Even if it meant forsaking everything he had sworn to uphold.

With a final, determined breath, Jungkook turned and made his way back to the altar, the amulet still held tightly in his hand. He didn’t know what the future held, but one thing was certain—he would find you again. And when he did, he would do whatever it took to keep you safe, even if it meant walking through the very flames of hell that had ignited within his heart.

August/22/2024

~ Masterpost

☕Caffeinate me so I can keep on writing! ☕

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sweetcarrotsandroses97 · 1 year ago

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Noirceur | JJK | Main Part

Pairing: demon! Jungkook x fem! human! Reader

Summary: A kiss. A curse. A tangled fate. A dark soul. His love breaks your fate, your bond cures his death. And a poetic dance that he traps you in, along with your own song that only he can hear. A story told wrong or in which Jungkook finds his lover after swimming through centuries of lost time and cursed minds.

Warnings: fluff?, angst, demon! Jungkook, black swan! Jungkook because I'm obsessed, toxic love, soft yandere?, obsession, implied kidnapping, dark fantasy, magic, curses, spells, blood, minor injuries, anxiety and feelings related to it, non-con kissing, kinda creepy, mentions of death, poetic writing, (let me know if I missed anything!)

Word Count: 3.1k words

A/N: I wrote this one in one sitting O.O, let me know what you think in the comments, darlings! Also, who else is obsessed with Black Swan Jungkook? Because I certainly am and this fic was inspired by the music video and my own ideas :D.

ALSO, this au is open for further parts if you request anything, darling! My inbox is open, lovelies xxx. This story will go how you like and I'll link all the parts into a Main Masterlist when something is requested for this story.

☕Caffeinate me so I can keep on writing! ☕

Noirceur: (noun). The state of being pitch black in colour; a state of lacking illumination.

The stories you have heard all your life were true. You didn't doubt it anymore.

From purity to evil. From light to the darkest night. A loneliness that turned into love, it morphed into an obsession. A claymation of a life, a soul. A being. A heart.

In the depths of hell where shadows writhe,

A demon walks, his heart alive.

His eyes, twin flames, burn with desire,

To find a soul, his dark empire.

The legend had changed, because Jungkook did not live in hell. His empire was situated over this very Earth. He had searched for centuries for that part of him, that part of him that was still alive. That part of his heart that was still beating and that should not fear him. That soulmate that was given to him by fate itself. That soulmate he wanted to claim. That lover he needed to possess.

He felt it when you entered the abandoned castle of arts, the large opera house where he had died many moons ago. He could no longer remember how he stopped being in the land of the living but he had never come across another one of his kind.

He was cursed. To live forever and torment the unfortunate souls of this world. He was cursed. To be alone in his long time punishment. He was cursed, his heart burned to ashes and his power rose from the depths of the earth.

But since you came across his path, Jungkook's punishment became a game for him to play. A game for you to endure.

You had been running endlessly through the infinite halls of the large opera house. Your naked feet were painted in crimson red as they bled with every step you took. You ran, passing through many hallways with many paintings hanging on the walls. You ran and ran, a soft music in the background made the hairs at the back of your neck stand up with nerves, with fear.

Footsteps were heard behind you. Those footsteps that had been chasing you for so long you could no longer remember when was the last time you had actually been outside of this abandoned castle of arts that was now your prison in hell.

"Come out, little dove. I only want to play."

You bit your lip as the words reached your ears. Those words that dripped from the mouth of your captor. The man who chased you to the end of the world, however you doubted he was actually a man.

You hid behind some curtains worn out by time itself. Your hands clenched the fabric of the dirty dress that was only enough to cover your dignity. It made you shiver. From the cold, from the fear. Maybe both, maybe neither.

"(y/n), (y/n). Dearest, (y/n)...STOP HIDING!"

You flinched when his voice boomed around the place you didn't doubt had once been beautiful. Blood oozed from the bite your teeth inflicted over your tender lip and you sniffled, hearing the footstep halt before they began echoing around once more, this time coming closer to you.

Through realms of terror, he roams the night,

Seeking a heart to claim as his right.

A soulmate bound by fate's cruel hand,

To join him in the demon's land.

In fear, you ran once more. As if you could ever leave his poisonous claws. As if you were able to leave that hideous place that played with your mind, with your soul, with your heart and memories as if they were toys at his reach. For him to use as he pleased.

Curtains hung from the tall ceiling that once had a beautiful pattern painted on it. It made you feel lost. As if you were running in circles. Always lost. With nowhere to go. As if you had ever had a choice. Or better said, as if your choice had been willingly taken by you.

Because there had once been a choice. A choice you made. A decision you chose. You entered that place by your own will yet your freedom in leaving was never yours to be held in the first place. It made you sick to the stomach, as if a storm was closing in on you and there was no way out of it. No sun ripping through the curtains, no wind blowing the clouds away.

Jungkook could hear your frantic breathing, your hurried footsteps and suppressed sobs. He could hear your beating heart resonating so strongly in his ears it only sent a chill down his spine at the chase.

He remembered the sweet scent that suddenly invaded his own prison the moment you entered the large opera house. For only the kiss of his soulmate would free him from the shackles of fate, only the purity of the heart would be able to set him free and roam the world as he pleased.

In whispers cold, his voice does call,

A siren's song, a chilling thrall.

He seeks a soul as dark as he,

To walk with him, for eternity.

"Don't you know that I love you, sweet (y/n)? Why do you run from your lover, hmm? If you come to me willingly, it will hurt way less, love."

You ran and ran, ignoring the pain in your feet, the pressure in your chest, the harsh beating of your heart. You weren't going to give up that easily. You weren't going to surrender without fighting back.

The hallways carried so many paintings on the walls. So many paintings of beautiful women. Pictures that you couldn't pay enough attention to. Paintings that resembled absolute fear and sorrow, something you didn't know but felt utterly familiar.

You stopped running when you made it to the main theatre as you stood on the old stage. The wooden beneath your feet was dusted with the remnants of time, broken glass was scattered along the dark wood from the frail chandelier that hung from the ceiling with its crystals tainted in greying dust.

The pain in your feet was ignored as you walked across the stage. You didn't hear Jungkook's maniac laugh, you didn't hear his approaching footsteps or his sick declarations of love. Of obsession. Yet the silence made you even more nervous. You didn't know where you were, you didn't know what day it was. Time had become a foreign concept for you, a thing your mind could no longer grasp.

How long had you been trapped in that hauntingly beautiful place? Has it been hours, days... months? Did people search for you? How about Taehyung, the man who sent you to that place to begin with? Was he wondering why you never came back to work? Was he wondering if you were still working on the story of the broken opera house to publish in his extravagant magazine? Did he even remember your presence or did he keep you around because you never questioned his orders and demands?

But there was no use in blaming others for your current situation because there was nothing to be done. You walked in an almost monotonous way to the centre of the stage, blood staining the ground below your feet as more and more cuts opened your precious skin.

Jungkook watched you from behind the curtains, he watched you wander around the open space. He watched you with haunted eyes glimmering in golden magic that cursed through his veins. He watched you with desire and delicacy. As if you had been crafted into a perfect doll for him to care when all his hands had ever done was to destroy and taint.

Your tears adorned your face like small diamonds over your soft looking skin. He wanted to wipe them and treasure such pearls of pain and fear within him. Your hands trembled as you gazed around you, eyes fixing on the fallen glass on the ground, the broken chandelier that hung from the ceiling and that seemed to snap at any moment, the crusty wood beneath your feet and the old paintings of women around the grand place.

"You don't have to run anymore, little dove."

Beneath the moon's unholy light,

He searches for his love in fright.

Through haunted woods and cursed moors,

His longing heart forever lures.

With a choke gasp you turned around, watching as Jungkook emerged from the back of the stage, the curtains giving him an aura that made you shiver. He took a step forward and you took a step backward. The need to keep as much distance between the being that kept you in his grasp and your own sanity was stronger than your actual fear of him.

"I have waited centuries to finally meet you."

His words only made more tears roll down your cheeks, eyes red and puffy as you glared at him in fear. You took a step as he approached you once more.

"Please..."

Your sweet voice enchanted him like a curse. Desiring to hear you speak once more, he remained silent and listened, taking another step towards you and instinctively you took once back.

"...please, let me go. I p-promise I won't tell anyone about what happened h-here today. I'll never come back and disturb you but, please-"

He laughed, a sound so harmonious it echoes around the empty opera house. You found it alluring, like a siren's song but you had to physically refrain yourself from falling into his arms.

"Do you really think I'll let you go after searching for you through so many lifetimes? You are mine, little dove. Forever mine."

Jungkook smiled, ever so sweetly you felt sick. A smile that got engraved in your memories forever. You shook your head but couldn't look away, taking another step back as he insisted on getting close to you.

"Look around you, love! Look around you and deny me that we aren't meant to be! We are destined, little dove. Tangled by fate. Look! Look around, (y/n)!"

And you did, not hesitating to follow his command with the force in his voice that made you suppress a sob. You looked around, eyes landing on one of the many paintings of the large room. One of the paintings that decorated the dull walls. The paintings that were old and worn out by time. Your eyes widened when you saw it. When you witnessed that the demon in front of you spoke nothing but fact. A sudden realisation dawned upon you and you felt as if you were drowning in a well with nothing to hold on to and nothing to hope for.

Because the lady on the painting cried tears of blood, the lady on the painting resembles your soul. Those were your hands, fisting the fabric of your dress in a deathly grip. Those were your tears rolling down your cheeks. The woman in the picture was the reflection of your soul trapped in a timeless mirror of blood.

"You see now? This whole castle of arts is our sanctuary. Our palace, Queen of mine."

You shook your head, in shock, in rejection. In fear. In anguish. You shook your head as you took step after step backwards even when he wasn't doing anything to get close to you.

Was your fate really next to him? Were you really tangled in such a web of lies you weren't able to escape? Or was he just playing with your mind?

"Stop it, (y/n)."

Jungkook spoke in alarm as he saw you getting closer and closer to the edge of the stage. But you didn't listen, your mind acted on its own in a fragile attempt at getting you away from this nightmare you had fallen into.

"Stop it!"

"Get away from me!"

Your scream resonated all over the place, your feet didn't stop moving until you stood at the edge. The height was enough to hurt you and the sole idea of it made him feel his heart beating, at least for a second or two as you stood on the edge while you faced him with shock written all over your beautiful features.

You took another step and a gasp escaped your lips as the floor disappeared from beneath you. Your eyes closed in instinct and your arms flailed as gravity pulled you down towards the hard ground covered in broken glass that was surely going to break you.

Jungkook acted in an instance, his eyes glowed in golden yellow as his large and black wings spread behind his back and he moved across the stage in less than a second, a path of ice was left behind him, freezing the ground below him, the curtains around the stage and his heart as well as he caught you in his arms before you were to succumb to nature's own force.

But in his quest, he leaves a trail,

Of fear and anguish, deathly pale.

For those who cross his path beware,

The demon's love is naught but despair.

Your eyes met his in a dance of emotions that made you dizzy in its nature. His hands found home on your waist just as your own rested on his forearms. His eyes, ever so beautiful, hid so many secrets you felt curious about yet you wished to remain in the darkness as well.

"I won't leave you. Not after burning in my own grief with your absence. You are the key to my existence, love"

His words pierced your soul like a sharp dagger. You sniffled, breathing in deeply as you found yourself gazing into his golden irises.

"You'll never leave my side."

One of his hands left your waist as it cradled your cheek softly. His touch burned you with an ice cold feeling it made you shiver in his arms whether from the coldness itself or fear of your current position, you really couldn't tell.

"You will learn to love me, (y/n). Just like I have loved you all this time. You'll learn."

Jungkook never broke eye contact with you as he allowed himself to swim in your (e/c) gaze. Your skin under his palm felt soft, the softest he has ever touched in both his lives as a mortal and as a demon of death.

You gulped, wanting to run away from him. Disgusted at his unwanted touch but strangely craving it more. As if you had been deprived of it for so long. Maybe your soul has. Maybe it was your soul that missed him, that missed that other part that was to complete your existence yet your heart and mind rejected that very own idea.

His eyes glowed once more, his wings extending behind him as he looked down at you with his golden eyes that prevented you from looking away. You found yourself enthralled by his magic, his powers and strength.

Your rigid body relaxed in his arms and he suppressed the growing smirk that threatened to appear over his lips. For he had captivated your mind in a glowy golden trance that would allow his freedom.

Jungkook leaned forward and he found no resistance from you so he continued until his lips met yours. His spell had worked over your mind even when your heart was beating wildly against your chest.

He kissed you and golden magic radiated from him. He kissed you and the chains of fate released him. He kissed you and was now a free demon, free to roam the Earth as he pleased. Free to do whatever his heart wanted for as long as you stayed next to him.

He escaped his own jail, that castle of arts was no longer his prison but was now his palace with you as his Queen of darkness.

He kissed you and he tainted you. His golden magic erupted from the very depths of his soul and enveloped you both as he was crowned as the king of darkness, with you as his precious queen.

Forever and always.

For all times to come.

For all lifetimes to last.

And you'll learn to love him, maybe not as much as he loved you. But you'll learn. Eventually. Why shouldn't a Queen love her King? Why wouldn't you love him when he gave you the world to your feet? Why wouldn't you love him when your souls were tangled?

Jungkook would wait. Wait until you'd love him completely, wholeheartedly. Absolutely and undoubtedly. For you were the reason for his black soul and now beating heart. A heart that only beats for you and you alone. His Queen of Darkness.

And when he broke the kiss and your body grew limp in his hold, he carried you in his arms, his wings extended and he flew. He flew to the skies with your body in his hold. He flew away to a place no other mortal knew about. His own palace. His own hell. His kingdom. That place where his home was, that place he’ll share with you.

Because Jungkook had waited centuries for you to finally find your way to him. He’d wait more if it meant you’ll love him in the end. Another lifetime felt like nothing if he knew you would give him your heart with your very own hands as you wore your crown of darkness, matching with his and ruling his kingdom of evil.

What was heaven compared to your love? What was light compared to your heart in the night? What was obedience compared to the sins of his own mind? Did it matter? No. It never did. And now that you were finally his to love and cherish for eternity, he could burn the world down for you to smile at him ever so softly and delicately, like an elegant rose with deathly thorns. Like a true queen of his domain.

His Queen.

So if you hear his haunting cry,

Beneath the starless, moonless sky,

Beware his love, a twisted fate,

For in his arms, darkness awaits.

January/19/2024

~Masterlist

☕Caffeinate me so I can keep on writing! ☕

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sweetcarrotsandroses97 · 7 months ago

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~ A Lamb Between Wolves |Mon Rêve|

Pairing: Archdeacon! Jungkook x Romani! Fem! Reader

Warnings: religious themes, dark romance?, forbidden love, AGE GAP (Kook is like 30-ish and oc is in her early twenties), allusions to sex, lust, secrets, angst, fluff, Jungkook is a priest 😳, oc is described as a petite woman, oc is described as being of Romani origin but no physical description is given of her other than her small stature (for canon purposes), (let me know if I missed anything!)

Word Count: 1.8k words

A/N: Part 1 of "Mon Rêve" is here as promised darlings! Let me know what you think in the comments! Likes and reblogs are really appreciated.

He remembered the first time he saw her. He remembered the first time he heard her voice. He remembered the way his heart had skipped a beat at the sight of her beauty. He remembered it all. Remembered it with pain and melancholy that burned his soul and clawed at his heart.

And now, as he looked at her, at you, he couldn’t help but yearn for that forbidden touch. That sinful desire that had consumed his thoughts for so long. A burning passion that he barely kept at bay. A poison that nurtured his heart but killed his soul.

The first time he saw you was at the marketplace. Your hair, those (h/c) locks flew in the air as you danced. The flowy skirts of your dress lifted from the ground as your bare feet twirled and floated over the cobblestones. It was magical. Like a beacon of hope amidst a storm. He remembered he had wanted you at that moment. You looked so free, so innocent, so beautiful that his mind replayed over and over that day at the marketplace during his dreams. Being both a blessing and a nightmare.

But Jungkook had a role in society he couldn’t break. He had made vows. He had made a promise. He represented the sanctity of the Church. He was not just a man, he was a beacon of hope for the parishioners of the cathedral.

The next time he saw you had been during a stormy day. The people had scurried away to seek shelter from the rain and you had run to the cathedral, seeing it as a sanctuary through the grey day that threatened to swallow Paris.

He saw you from the upper floor, not sure how to approach you as you took a deep breath, shivering due to your wet clothes. He saw your delicate features be illuminated by the soft flames of the many candles that stood proudly among Notre-Dame. You stood there, looking at the imposing cathedral with wide eyes and slightly parted lips. Your hair dripped with the remnants of the water and if he concentrated enough, he could hear the drop hitting the ground. Or maybe that was only his heart thumping wildly in his chest.

Jungkook descended the stairs, staying hidden in the shadows as he watched with intense eyes and a deep desire that would destroy him if he dared the flames of his passion get tangled with your innocent form.

“What brings you to the cathedral, my dear?”

You jumped at the sound of the deep voice that belonged to the intimidating Archdeacon of Notre-Dame. You turned around, locking eyes with his tall form cladded in black. The candles sharpened his features and you gulped as you looked up at him.

“I was seeking refuge from the rain, Father Jeon. Forgive me if I have intruded where I am not welcome.”

You saw his stern features soften slightly yet the intensity in his dark eyes remained. He took a step forward and you forced yourself to stay rooted in your place. His tall, imposing figure made you gulp but you couldn’t break eye contact. Almost as if he had trapped you in a dance you didn’t know you liked to perform as well.

“Everyone is welcome in the house of God. Now tell me, what’s your name?”

He needed to know. A burning need that travelled down his spine and made his hands itch with the desire of touching your soft-looking skin.

“(y/n).”

Your voice sounded so soft. So pure. It made him want to listen to it forever. He wanted to hear you sing, wanted to hear you tell him about your day. He wanted to hear you scream his name if he were to ever make you his and his alone.

“(y/n)... Come with me, my dear. You’ll catch your death in those clothes.”

Those clothes that were as sinful as the skin of temptation. Your blue skirts were in a darker shade now, but your off-shoulder white blouse did little to keep your dignity to yourself for the fabric was nearly transparent due to the rain. The only thing that kept his eyes from wandering down your chest was your long hair that cascaded down and covered your breasts to some point.

You followed him as he walked through the nave, the soft padding of your bare feet against the cool floor beneath you matched the rhythmic pattern of your heart. You took a chance to look around, taking in the high ceilings and tinted windows that made colours reflect on the stone floor. The flickering candles cast long shadows that told many secrets among the darkness of the holy place.

As you trailed behind Father Jeon, the silence between you was almost palpable, broken only by the faint echo of your footsteps. The heavy, rain-soaked air clung to your skin, making you shiver slightly. You couldn’t help but feel a mixture of awe and apprehension as you continued to follow the Archdeacon deeper into the cathedral, each step amplifying the tension that simmered between you.

He led you to a small room off the side of the main hall, a private chamber where the clergy would rest and prepare for services. The room was modestly furnished, with a wooden table, a few chairs, and a wardrobe. The air was warmer here, and you felt a slight relief from the chill of your wet clothes. Jungkook gestured to a chair, his movements calm and collected.

“Sit, (y/n).”

His voice was gentle yet commanding, leaving no room for refusal. You did as he instructed, your heart pounding in your chest. He moved to the wardrobe and pulled out a thick, dark robe, the fabric was soft to the eye and looked up at him as he spoke once more, his deep voice resonated over the room even when he spoke with a softness that contrasted deeply to the way he had spoken to you when he found you at the entrance of the cathedral.

“This should keep you warm. I will step outside to give you some privacy while you change.”

You nodded, grateful for his consideration. As he turned to leave, you couldn’t help but watch him, the way his robes flowed around him, the way his presence seemed to fill the room and you couldn’t help but notice just how strikingly handsome he was. There was something about him that drew you in, something more than just his position or his authority. It was something far deeper and dangerous to explore.

Once the door closed behind him, you quickly shed your soaked garments and slipped into the robe. It was far too large for you, but it was dry and warm, and it smelled faintly of incense and something distinctly masculine.A soft knock on the door startled you, and Father Jeon’s voice came from the other side.

“Are you decent?”

“Yes, Father.”

Your response lacked its usual strength. As if something choked your words to stay hidden within the chambers of your heart.

He re-entered the room, his eyes immediately finding yours. There was a softness in his gaze now, a gentleness that belied the stern exterior he presented to the world. He approached you, his steps slow and deliberate, and took a seat across from you.

“You’re safe here, (y/n). Tell me, what truly brings you to Notre-Dame on a night like this?”

Your heart quickened, you couldn’t answer him that. You couldn’t tell him. You couldn’t open your heart to him in that way for you feared he’d cast you away.

“Because of the rain, Father. My home was far away when the pouring started.”

He eyed you for a moment. As if studying you. In a way, he was. It was late at night, you should have been home by now if what you were saying was true. Not that he didn’t want to believe you. He’d fall on his knees in front of you if you asked him to but he couldn’t yet shake the feeling of something lurking in the shadows. Of something darker and deep threatening to take a hold of him the moment he were to show a bit of vulnerability. Jungkook sighed before he stood up, his silence was killing you and you thought for a second that he was going to tell you to leave.

“I’ll give you a room for the night. Follow me.”

Wordlessly you obeyed. You followed Jungkook through the dimly lit corridors, your footsteps echoing in the stillness. The vastness of the cathedral seemed to close in around you, each flickering candle casting long, wavering shadows on the stone walls. The silence was almost tangible, broken only by the soft rustle of Father Jeon’s robes and the distant patter of rain against the stained-glass windows. You couldn’t help but feel a mixture of awe, apprehension, and an unsettling undercurrent of something you couldn’t quite place.

He led you to a secluded part of the cathedral, stopping before a heavy wooden door. Pushing it open, he revealed a small, cosy room with a simple bed, a wooden desk, and a small fireplace. The room was modest but exuded a sense of warmth and safety, a stark contrast to the cold, damp night outside.

“You can stay here for the night.”

He said, turning to face you. His eyes lingered on you a moment longer than necessary, a flicker of something dark and intense passing through them before he looked away.

“Thank you. You have given me kindness that I have not found anywhere else.”

His expression softened and he resisted the urge to step forward and embrace your smaller form as you looked at him with wide and sincere eyes that melted his frozen heart.

“You deserve kindness, (y/n). You can be sure that you are safe within these walls. The cathedral is a place for sanctuary. Let your heart be at ease, my dear.”

You nodded, overwhelmed by his kindness and the emotions coursing through you. As he stepped back and left the room, you noticed the lingering tension in his gaze, a suppressed desire that seemed to simmer just beneath the surface. As you settled into the bed, the fire crackling softly in the hearth, you felt a comfort you hadn’t known in a long time

Father Jeon’s words echoed in your mind as you drifted off to sleep. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, you felt a sense of safety and belonging. Yet, within the walls of Notre-Dame and under the watchful care of the enigmatic Father Jeon, you also sensed an undercurrent of tension—a suppressed desire that left you both intrigued and unsettled.

As you closed your eyes, you couldn’t shake the image of his intense gaze, the power he radiated nor the feeling that beneath his calm exterior lay a storm of emotions waiting to be unleashed.

July/23/2024

~ Masterpost

☕Caffeinate me so I can keep on writing! ☕

129 notes · View notes

sweetcarrotsandroses97 · 1 year ago

Text

~ Pride and Protection | JJK

Pairing: CEO!husband!Jungkook x writer!fem!wife!Reader

Warnings: fluff, angst, arranged marriage, secrets, feelings of yearning and uncertainty, food consumption, idiots in love, the in-laws make an appearance once more, talks about contract marriage, secrecy, lies, minor injury, a bit of blood, talks about having children, the have a moment! (let me know if I missed anything!)

Summary: Your relationship with Jungkook was complicated while at the same time was the easiest thing in the world. However, after having taken three steps forward, you take five backwards as you learn that someone knows your secret and in order to protect Jungkook, you must make a choice. But would he let himself be protected with the only thing that would pain him greater than death itself?

Word Count: 5.5k

A/N: Hello everyone! I know I have taken ages to update this series but yesterday while in the shower I was able to solve a major plot hole so here we are! I really hope you will enjoy this part as we dive further into the complicated relationship that is marriage, buckle up darlings because this will take quite a different turn that what I have originally planned!

☕Caffeinate me so I can keep on writing! ☕

You awoke upon hearing a sudden noise. A gasp left your lips as you sat up on the bed, eyes roaming around the bedroom only to notice that you were alone in the large bed, your husband was nowhere to be found.

You quickly stood up and went to the bathroom to brush your teeth and style your hair a bit. Without giving it much thought, you left the bathroom and walked to the kitchen.

What you saw made you chuckle a bit. You saw Jungkook crouching down on the floor while Bam walked around him excitedly.

"Bam, stop it. This is all your fault."

You giggled at your husband's scolding to the Dobermann and that seemed to catch his attention as he turned to look at you over his shoulder. His eyes were bigger than usual as you seemed to have caught him doing something he shouldn't. Like a scolded kid.

"(y/n), you're up. I... um."

Jungkook stood up and turned to face you, your eyes immediately went to the mess on the floor he was apparently trying to fix.

Over the white floor laid the vase you had placed your sunflowers from last night shattered with the nice flowers adorning the place in an almost artistic way.

"Bam broke it."

He said urgently. You lifted an eyebrow at your husband. A smile tugging at your lips. Your gaze shifted from the large dog sitting next to your husband and the man's adorably wide eyes.

"Of course, that's totally what happened."

You said with a bit of sarcasm in your words but Jungkook knew you weren't mad, your gaze had a softness in their (e/c) pools and a teasing smile was painted over your lips.

He sighed, looking down at his dog before returning to look at you.

"I wanted to move the vase from the dining table so that we could enjoy breakfast together but Bam rushed past me and I accidentally dropped it, I'm sorry."

You walked towards him, careful to not step in any of the shattered glass on the floor.

"It's okay, Kook. There's no need to apologise, it was just a vase, I can put the flowers somewhere else."

Jungkook stepped aside as you crouched down to pick up the sunflowers from the floor, careful so as to not cut yourself with the broken glass. His eyes followed you as you moved swiftly around the kitchen.

"Let me do it."

He said, grabbing the broom and dustpan from your hands when you returned. He didn't allow any room for you to deny it as he began sweeping the floor, carefully getting rid of all the glass. Bam scurried off to his house in the corner while you searched the cupboards for another vase to put your flowers.

The scene was peaceful, domestic even. And Jungkook found himself loving the small moment between you both, like a real married couple.

He put the broken glass in the bin and handed you back the broom and dustpan, you accepted the items with a smile but your eyes drifted to his hands circling them.

"Jungkook, you're bleeding."

He hadn't even registered the subtle pain up until now, you were fast enough to grab the cleaning objects and put them aside before your hands grabbed his larger left hand.

"I probably cut myself a moment ago, don't worry about it."

But the frown between your brows didn't disappear. You inspected the cut with prying eyes before you walked toward the sink, pulling him with you.

"We cannot leave it like that, Kook. It'll get infected if you don't clean it."

You didn't look at him while you said those words as you were focused on the running water of the sink falling over his cut. Jungkook watched you attentively, his eyes ran over your worried expression, noticing the concern in your eyes, how you bit your lower lip and how your brows were slightly furrowed. He couldn't help but find it cute.

With a soft towel you dried his hand with careful movements, mindful of his small wound. You didn't say another thing as you let go of his hand briefly while opening one of the kitchen cupboards. He watched as you stood on your tip toes and reached for a white box. You put it on the counter and opened it before grabbing Jungkook's hand once more.

"Why do you keep that in there?"

He asked softly, referring to the first aid kit hidden in the kitchen.

"I always have one in hand, in case I burn myself while cooking or sometimes a small cut happens too. It comes in handy."

He hummed in response, not quite processing the fact of your words as he was more distracted by the feeling of your delicate touch over his skin.

You applied some ointment over his cut on his index finger before wrapping a band-aid on it.

"There."

A soft smile graced your features as you let go of his hand, his skin feeling cold the next instant as you put the things back in the box and put it back where it was.

You didn't have time to turn around when you suddenly froze on the spot. A hand rested on your right shoulder and your breath hitched in your throat when you felt Jungkook's body pressed into your back, his other hand went to rest against the counter and you swallowed as he trapped you between him and the marble counter.

"You be careful. I don't want you to get hurt while you cook."

His words were rasped out, voice deep that made your insides quiver. Jungkook was even surprised of himself with such a bold move but he didn't dare move from where he stood. The warmth of your body made things to him, to his mind, to his heart. Things he hadn't felt before. Or at least, not all of them.

He lifted his left hand from the counter, moving his now bandaged finger in front of your face.

"It can hurt pretty bad."

You swallowed, mind going blank with all the possible things you could've said at that moment.

"Jungkook."

His name left your lips without you noticing it. As if it were on instinct that you wished to pronounce his name.

He hummed, resting his left hand over your own on the counter while his thumb began drawing circles on your shoulder. Your skin tingles where he touched you and your heart was hammering so hard inside your chest you thought he'd hear its frantic beating.

He began leaning into your ear, as if wanting to whisper the secrets of the universe to you and only you. You turned your head, looking at him so close. So intimate. A tension grew between you two. Something intangible, something that could only be felt with the heart.

Your lips almost touched his; gaze fixing between his eyes and his pink lips. Your breaths mingled together, the feeling of his body pressed to your own grounded you while at the same time let your mind loose.

Jungkook cursed under his breath when his phone began ringing. Popping the sweet bubble of innocence between you two. The warmth of his body disappeared the next second, making a shiver run down your spine at the sudden coolness of the apartment.

Jungkook answered the call in a sour mood, cursing the person in the other line for calling him when he nearly kissed you! Literally there couldn't have been a worse timing for that call. Then again, it wasn't as if he could stay mad at Hoseok for longer than 10 seconds. That man was a walking ray of sunshine.

You, on the other hand, stood rooted in your place. After having turned around, your back facing the cupboards, your eyes remained glued to Jungkook who paced back and forth in the large kitchen.

You didn't know what he was saying through the phone, you weren't paying attention. Your mind kept playing over and over again what had just happened between you and your husband.

Jungkook's voice enthralled you. Not because of the meaning of his words, you didn't know the latest updates from the company but it was the mere sound of his voice that mesmerised you.

It could be soft and sweet. Loving. Or it could be deep and harsh. Commanding. And you absolutely loved it. You watched as he grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl before hanging up.

"I have to go, (y/n). Something happened, we'll have breakfast together later, call me if you need anything."

He sent you a flashing smile before putting his shoes on in a hurry, grabbing his coat and leaving the flat. You blinked once then twice, feeling the silence of the apartment consume you. A sigh left your lips, you were still processing what had just happened between you and Jungkook only for your husband to storm out of the door the next second.

"Bye, Jungkook."

You whispered to the air, as if needing to say it so that you could continue with your day. You ran a hand over your forehead, his husky voice repeating itself in your mind, you were still intoxicated with his cologne and the memory of his body against your own made you tingle with ecstasy.

You smile, chewing at your bottom lip as you sit down on the stool.

Did -did we just have a moment?

"Where's Jimin?"

Jungkook asked his friend and coworker, Namjoon. The shorter man hadn't been seen around and it was already half past three in the evening. The older man cleared his throat, putting some files on Jungkook's desk before he spoke.

"I think he took the day off, said something about having to visit someone. I'm not aware of the details."

Jungkook hummed, eyes roaming over the papers his friend just brought him.

"Namjoon, do you think you can handle today's meeting with the shareholders? I'll pick up my wife from her appointment with her editor."

The other man nodded, taking out his phone to put it in his calendar.

"How are things going on? Between you and (y/n)."

Jungkook sighed at the question, was his married life the only gossip going around in the office?

"Jimin-ah asked me the exact same question the other day, hyung. But to satiate your curiosity, I think we are progressing."

Namjoon smiled, picturing in his head how Jimin probably pestered Jungkook to spill the beans about his love life.

"Well, I'm glad to hear that, Kook. You deserve it."

The younger man smiled softly at the thought of you. Your presence, even in his mind, was enough to soothe his soul and calm his heart while butterflies flew wildly in his stomach.

"Thanks, hyung."

Namjoon bowed slightly at Jungkook, not because of his age but because of him being his boss. Your husband was left alone in his office the next moment. Leaving him with his thoughts, his racing heart, his yearning soul.

He wanted to get back to you, already addicted to your presence, your voice. Your mere existence was enough to captivate him. He needed it. Almost to the point of needing a drug to keep his sanity. As if he was sick and you were his cure.

Your entire being, your heart was a sanctuary for his love. A love so pure only you were to receive. Only you were to claim it as your own. Jungkook wished to get back to the apartment, imagining you sitting on the couch with a soft blanket over your legs and your laptop resting on the blanket. The image in his mind made him smile.

He remembered what had happened last night. How your body had felt against his own. The way you both cuddled together on the couch, how his hand found yours underneath the covers, he broke a barrier at that moment with his touch. He crossed another line between you both, another step towards having your heart in his hands.

And then there was his silent confession. His whispered words that hung in the silence of the flat as darkness drowned the place. Jungkook couldn't keep those words in him any longer, he had to say them. Say them but you weren't meant to hear them. Not now at least.

He sighed. So many thoughts lived in his mind, so many wishes rested in his heart and it made his soul heavy. Heavy with need and love. With yearning for something that he could touch but maybe he couldn't keep.

Love was complicated, Jungkook understood that now. But that didn't mean he would let the small spark that existed between you and him die. No. He'd make it a burning flame of love and passion. A fire that warmed but didn't burn. A beautiful spectre of perfection.

He didn't know that in that exact moment, he was living in your mind as well. You sat in a small cafe, eyes lost in the distance. Not even watching the cars pass by on the street as your mind replayed last night's events.

You remembered how Jungkook had given you your flowers. Those beautiful sunflowers that made you smile widely. Even now, as you reminisce on the bouquet, you subconsciously smile. The smell was engraved in your memories and how your heart skipped a beat when he had presented the gift to you in an almost shy way made butterflies erupt in your stomach.

And then, there was what had happened this morning. How he pinned you to the kitchen's counter, the way he towered over you and he trapped you between him. Your senses were invaded by Jungkook and you blushed at the thought.

Your train of thought got interrupted when Mrs. Ming arrived. You shook your head softly to get rid of the thoughts about your husband before you stood up and greeted her with a smile.

"Hello, Mrs. Ming. How have you been?"

She was your editor, a middle aged woman with a kind heart and great knowledge. She sat down in front of you, putting her purse next to her as her warm eyes locked with your own.

"I've been fine, (y/n), thanks for asking. And you?"

You nodded at her before signalling for a waiter to take your order. She ordered a slice of apple pie and a cup of coffee while you only asked for a coffee. Once the kind waiter left, she spoke once more.

"So... I read your first draft. (y/n), I really loved the story."

You chuckled softly, allowing her to continue.

"Even when that kind of plot is widely used, I do believe you described it completely differently from other stories that are about arranged marriages."

Subconsciously, your right hand searched for your wedding band on your ring finger. You traced the band softly, mind going back to Jungkook.

"I'm glad you liked it, of course I know it needs a lot of polishing before going live but that means a lot, Mrs. Ming."

She smiled at you, that warm smile tha soothed your nerves when it came to your work and reputation as a well-known writer.

"Send me your next draft when you are done, (y/n). We'll go from there and try not to rush it. You know how these things work."

You nodded at Mrs. Ming's wise words before bowing softly at her. Jungkook hadn't texted you so you assumed he was in a meeting. He had been quite busy this past few weeks and your heart clenched at his stress and frustration over the company that would eventually be his.

"Would you like me to give you a lift?"

You smiled kindly at her sweet offer but shook your head.

"No, thank you, Mrs. Ming. I want to stop in a nearby shop and buy something for my husband."

"Very well, text me if you need me to check anything from your draft and believe it when I tell you it has very solid pillars already."

You couldn't fight the smile that grew on your face upon her compliment over your work. Writing was your passion, what you lived for. If you couldn't write, there was no point in experiencing life the way you did it.

"Thank you so much, take care."

"You too, (y/n)."

And with that, you parted ways with the older woman who you have grown fond of. You sighed to yourself, walking in the other direction to make your idea of a surprise a reality for your handsome husband who lavished you in luxury and a soft affection. You wanted to reciprocate those gifts, even a little. At least try. At least welcome him with something you hope he'd liked.

Your features were soft as you paraded over the pavement, your mind went back to Jungkook, your sweet and loving husband. The memories of him were cascading over you like a soft drizzle on an autumn day. It made you sigh in content, quickening your pace as you got closer to the store you had ordered your gift from.

The bell over the door rang above you as you entered the old jewellery shop. The sudden smell of dried roses reached your senses as you looked around the small yet cosy shop you were in.

An elderly looking man came from behind the counter with a gentle expression over his aged features.

"Hello, miss. What can I do for you today?"

You stepped forward and answered him. You clutched your purse in your hold, nervous as it was the first time you were to buy something for Jungkook. you had gifted him other things, but this was different. It meant something different.

"Good evening. I actually ordered a designed watch and I was told I could come today to pick it up."

The man's eyes sparkled as he remembered your order you had placed over the phone. It didn't matter how much it would cost you but you had wanted to give your husband not only an item he could wear but something to remind him of you, of your relationship.

"Ah, yes. I remember now. Mrs. Jeon, isn't it?"

You nodded, biting your lip in an unconscious way as the man bent down behind the counter and rose once more holding a box in his hands. You took a step closer and suppressed a gasp as your eyes landed on the beautiful watch with black leather straps. The watch on itself had a golden outline and the numbers were marked by simple lines also made of golden material. The little clock hands were also in that same beautiful golden colour while they were thin and delicate. Elegant.

You picked it up with gentle movements and turned it around, reading the engraving on its back and smiling at just how beautiful it had come out. You were sure Jungkook would love it.

"It's beautiful. Thank you so much."

The man smiled at your happiness and received with both hands your card to pay for the beautiful gift. He was also kind enough to pack the watch in a lovely box with a silver bow on top of it. You put the black box in your purse and thanked the owner with a soft bow before you left the cute store.

You began walking back to the coffee shop where you met with Mrs. Ming because Jungkook had told you he'd come pick you up after he was done with some meeting.

However, just as you were rounding the corner of the block where the coffee shop was, a black car parked next to you. You didn't have time to panic as the window rolled in and you saw your mother-in-law sitting in the back seat.

"Get in, (y/n). We have things to discuss."

Her demanding tone made a shiver run down your spine as you clutched your purse tighter against your body. You were going to protest, saying you had things to do but her glare was enough for you to swallow your words. You didn't say anything but obeyed her commanded request with rigid movement. When you were seated in the car and the door closed behind you, the chauffeur at the front started the engine and began driving away.

"Is something wrong, Mrs. Jeon?"

You asked out of politeness. However, the memory of her demand at dinner was still fresh in your mind. The feelings were still there, the bitterness of her request and the frustration in your heart were still open for the world to see.

She didn't say anything as she grabbed a file next to her before handing it to you.

"You are aware of why me and my husband chose you to become Jungkook's wife, are you not?"

You nodded, still confused about all that was happening. She sounded serious about whatever topic she had to discuss with you. Even more, she looked angry too.

"(y/n), we promised to make you a successful writer, which I must say, we have accomplished in a transparent way."

You looked at her, not opening the file in your hands as your heart raced in your chest. With nerves, with fear, with anxiety. Does she- does she know?

"In exchange for your success in your career you were to become my son's wife and give him an heir."

You swallowed, feeling a lump grow in your throat. As if she were suffocating you with her cold gaze.

"Mrs. Jeon, I-"

She cut you off as she raised her hand in the air.

"I know everything, girl. Everything."

Tears clouded your vision, your hands shook despite you trying to stop them from trembling.

"I'm sorry."

You whispered, fearing with your entire being what she'd say to you next. Your heartstrings were pulled by fate's dark grip. You kept your tears to yourself, not allowing them to flow and leave the cage that was your body.

You were ashamed of yourself, you felt dirty upon being caught in your lie, in your secret. But you needed the money, you needed to progress in your career and your in-laws had offered you that opportunity in a silver tray for you to take. Even when you were risking more than your life while accepting that deal.

Mrs. Jeon scoffed humorlessly at you, her eyes trained on the file that was gripped in your trembling hands.

""Sorry" is not going to fix this. Did you really think we wouldn't find out?

You sniffled, the lump in your throat preventing you from speaking. From defending yourself, words failed you when you needed them the most.

"I want you to divorce my son."

Her words stunned you to the point that you turned to look at her with wide eyes, your heart was in your throat as a single tear left your eye and rolled down your cheek slowly.

"I can't."

You whispered, your body preventing you from speaking any louder. From sadness, frustration, anger. You couldn't get the words out.

"You must. If you will not give Jungkook what he deserves, let him have the opportunity of building his life and not wasting his youth with a woman that would always hold him back."

You closed your eyes. trying to calm yourself a bit. You nearly gasped when you felt the woman's hand over your left one and you looked down at what would have been a sympathetic touch if it weren't for her greedy wishes. Your eyes were trained on your wedding ring, almost as if it mocked you.

"It's for the best, (y/n). Think about Jungkook. Think about all that he'd lose if he continues to be tied to you. He deserves a chance with someone who would make him really happy."

The car came to a sudden stop and you looked outside only to notice you were in front of your apartment complex. You sighed, your hands clutched the file in your hands, already knowing what was inside it for Mrs. Jeon to confront you this way. It made you shudder internally.

"Think about Jungkook, (y/n). It is him who would end up hurt in the end."

You looked at her with dead eyes, refusing to spill your tears in front of such a cruel woman. You didn't say anything, yet your heart was heavy as you exited the car, leaving the file behind. Wishing it was that easy to leave your past behind as well.

With heavy steps you made your way into the luxurious building where your shared home with your husband rested. You wiped your tears while you were alone in the lift, feeling the ride up longer than usual.

You took out your phone while wiping the tears cascading down your cheeks that you could no longer hold in. You turned it on, putting in your wedding anniversary date to unlock the device before you found Jungkook's contact and sent him a quick text, letting him know you were home and that he didn't have to worry about picking you up.

You pressed send and the elevator doors opened and you walked along the empty corridor until you reached your door. In an almost mechanical way you typed the password, the sound of the door unlocking fell on deaf ears as it opened, you stepped inside and closed it with a light push.

With a heavy sigh, you dropped your purse and phone on the couch before you walked towards the bedroom. Your heart was heavy with the words your mother-in-law had spoken to you a mere moment ago. It felt selfish to stay with your husband yet it was cruel to leave just like that.

The greatest fear in your soul was for Jungkook to know the truth as well. Perhaps if you left in silence, his mother would keep your secret to herself.

A shudder racked through your body at the single thought of leaving your husband behind. Your man, your love. The door to your shared bedroom closed behind you as you allowed yourself to drown in your thoughts and tears, the product of your own decisions.

Jungkook was in the middle of a meeting when his phone buzzed as it rested on the table. He was quick enough to read your name on the notifications before the screen went dark again. His fingers itched to grab the device and read your message. His heart pounded at the thought of you texting him, wanting to talk to him.

With a discreet movement he grabbed his phone and pulled it under the large table, the voices of the directors dying down in his mind as he read your text.

Something stirred within him at the coldness of your words, at the lack of emojis and sweet greetings. It was just a short message, delivering its purpose yet he knew there was something wrong in order for you to send such a message buried in a pile of ice that felt like a dagger between what had been growing in your relationship with Jungkook.

He stood up, catching the attention of the men and women seated around the glass table.

"Excuse me."

No-one spoke a word as he left the room, not minding the curious gazes over his form nor the questioning looks on his people's faces.

Once outside, he read your text again, his lips pressed together as the words repeated themselves over and over again in his loud mind.

'Jungkook, I'm already home. Mrs. Ming gave me a ride. Don't bother about picking me up later.'

That was what you had written to him. Your coldness and dismissal of his attentions to you pulled at his heartstrings. He called you, pressing his phone to his ear as it rang and rang until it led to voicemail.

He sent you a text, asking if you were alright, if something had happened. They got sent, but you didn't read them. Worry began etching on his chest as many thoughts raced through his head. Maybe your phone had died and you sent him that text so as not to worry him?

Yet his heart screamed at him to go home, find you, see you with his very eyes and confirm you were alright.

"Pick up, pick up, pick up...."

Jungkook mumbled to himself as he dialled your number for the last time; it went to voicemail and he cursed under his breath before his feet were carrying him through the corridor and down the stairs. He didn't have time to take the lift as his heart raced with each step he took.

Time was slower than usual yet at the same time it raced against him and his strongest desire that was to get to you.

His car was speeding through the streets, he feared something bad had happened to you, that you were hurt in some way. The thought scared him to death. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering wheel tightly in order of keeping his hands from shaking with nerves, with fear, with desperation, with frustration. With love. With urge. His emotions and thoughts were a muddy concoction that blurred his senses and made his heart ache.

Jungkook ran up the apartment complex, the lift ride taking centuries to go up to his floor. He practically ran through the hallway before his fingers quickly typed the password; the door was yanked with force fueled by his thumping heart only to be met with a numbing silence drowning the place.

He looked around, not even Bam was in his house, running to receive him like any other day. Spotting your purse on the couch, he went there with urgent steps only to find your phone next to it as well with all his missing calls and unread texts in your notifications. He lifted your purse, searching for some clue about what had happened, about your coldness, about your strange text.

A black box tied with a silver bow fell from your purse upon its movement. Jungkook frowned, picking it up in his hands as he eyed it with curiosity. His fingers were about to untie the ribbon but he halted in his action when he heard a whine coming from the bedroom. It was Bam's cry. And then came a soft sniffle that hadn't he been alert, he'd have missed it.

Jungkook put the box on the coffee table before he walked over the hallway and towards where your shared bedroom was. His palm pushed the door open and he nearly gasped at what he saw.

"(y/n)?"

You froze in your movement when you heard your name being called by the unmistakable voice of your dear husband. You turned around, your eyes meeting his as you stood frozen in the middle of the large bedroom.

His heart clenched when he saw tears in your eyes, your cheeks were wet and your lips were pouty. Your hands were shaking as you held your jewellery box.

"What are you doing?"

He asked, his voice so soft, so patient. Yet you were able to read the underlines of curiosity and hurt over his words as his eyes travelled across the bedroom.

You were packing your stuff.

"Jungkook."

His name escaped your lips like a prayer, a verse of a poem your soul found no rhyme with. Your missing treasure that you had to let go before ever having him in your arms. You husband. Your love.

Your jewellery box slipped from your hands, landing dryly over the grey carpet as its contents escaped the little box and scattered around. You swallowed, never breaking eye contact with Jungkook as his long legs carried him towards you.

He panicked as he watched you be in such an estate of distress. Bam laid in your shared bed, watching you with sad eyes as whine filled the room.

A shuddering breath escaped through your lips when Jungkook's hands rested on your shoulders. His eyes were filled with worry and want, of sadness and confusion and a million other things you weren't able to grasp.

"What happened?"

You bit your bottom lip, trying to stop its quivering. Tears leaked from your eyes and he wanted to wipe them so desperately he felt his fingers would turn to ash if he didn't dry your tears. You hated yourself for what you were about to say to him, for how you were going to break his heart; hurt his precious and sweet soul.

The wedding band on your finger was suddenly too heavy for you to carry. Tainted with guilt, with shame. Lightened by love and a dream that was now disipaiting like fog on an early spring day.

You looked into your husband's eyes with thousands of emotions before you spoke words that made his heart crumble to pieces. You watch the hurt flash over his doe eyes and his hands tightened around your shoulders.

"I want to divorce you, Jungkook."

~Masterpost

December/19/2023

A/N: Please let me know your thoughts in the comments! I'd love to hear out your ideas and theories about the outcome of this story!

Drabbles are open for this au! My inbox is open, darlings!

☕Caffeinate me so I can keep on writing! ☕

208 notes · View notes

sweetcarrotsandroses97 · 29 days ago

Text

~ Broken Angel |4| Mon Rêve

Pairing: Archdeacon! Jungkook x Romani! Fem! Reader

Warnings: religious themes, dark romance?, forbidden love, AGE GAP (Kook is like 30-ish and oc is in her early twenties), angst,use of offensive slurs (not by koo), mentions/implications of rape, groping, pervy man, mentions of stealing, mentions of lying, talks about redemption/forgiveness, traumatic flashback, Jungkook is a priest 😳, oc is described as a petite woman, oc is described as being of Romani origin but no physical description is given of her other than her small stature (for canon purposes), injury, blood, implied attack on oc, (let me know if I missed anything!)

Word Count: 5.1k words

A/N: I know it has taken me a lot to update this story and I am so sorry about that. I have good news tho, I just got my first job, darlings! I'm so happy to start on Monday and I'll do my best to keep on writing and posting here as you have all been a great support of my writing shenanigans.

I hope you will enjoy this chapter even though it is a bit more dense and it's longer than other chapters. Koo is a sweetheart (as always) and we'll finally see what has been going on with his woman all along!

Let me know your thoughts in the comments! You know I love to hear what you think of the chapter 🫶🫶🫶

Jungkook paced with anxiousness across his room. You lay on his large four poster bed. The covers were bundled at your feet while the physician examined and cleaned your wound. Your hair was spread out on the pillow, your body limp against the linens that were now stained with blood.

The candles flickered yet his heart thundered. The room was quiet, but his mind was in chaos. Jungkook paced back and forth, back and forth in his room, his robes sweeping the floor. His hands tightened at his sides, fisting in helplessness. His nails bit at his sweaty palms and his eyes bore desperation in those dark pits of mysterious thoughts.

“How is she?”

The archdeacon finally spoke. Stopping his pacing as he looked at the young physician. He was a friend of his, Kim Seokjin. A man that had travelled from far lands to learn medicine, picking knowledge from each place he set foot.

Seokjin looked up, wiping his hands in a cloth as he turned to look at Jungkook. The slightly older man gazed at the priest with sympathy in his brown eyes. He put the cloth away, straightening up and walking towards him as he spoke in a soft voice so as to not wake you up.

“I managed to stop the bleeding. The wound wasn’t deep, it was more of a slice on her side than an actual stab wound. She should recover with time. Let her rest.”

Jungkook nodded, swallowing the lump of emotions in his throat. It was a bitter gulp. For he was not afraid, not anymore. He was angry, furious at those who had dared to harm her, desperate to find answers. But most importantly, he felt a burning passion to protect her. To keep her safe, to keep her by his side.

“Thank you, Seokjin.”

The physician nodded, placing a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder in shared sympathy.

“She’s stronger than she looks, Jungkook. But you must ensure that she doesn’t strain herself. Her body will need time to heal, and she’ll need care—gentle care.”

Jungkook’s jaw clenched, his eyes flickering over to your still form on the bed. The pale dance of the candle illuminated your beautiful features, shadows painted your face as if you were a delicate painting of gentle strokes.

But the slight rise and fall of your chest was his reassurance that you were still with him. Still fighting, still clinging to life. His hands trembled as they rested at his sides so he clasped them behind his back, his grip on himself tight to control his emotions. These feelings that circled his heart like poisonous ivy yet he was already addicted to it.

“I will. She will have everything she needs.”

And more.

Jungkook spoke in a low and firm voice yet thought the last part to himself. Seokjin studied him for a moment. He observed the longing in his friend’s eyes, the swallow that bobbed his Adam's apple. The subtle purse of his lips.

“It’s not just her body that will need mending, wounds like these… they scar more than flesh.”

Seokjin’s words were quiet, meant only for Jungkook to hear. The archdeacon looked back at his friend, his gaze hardening. Jin turned to look at you, sighing deeply at the sight of your limp form on the bed.

“Whatever happened to her anyway?”

Jungkook clenched his jaw, his hands fisting by his sides as he lifted his chin in the air. It pained him to think what had happened to you. A part of him burned to know the truth. All the secrets you had been hiding from him. Yet the other half of his heart hesitated. Because he didn’t know what he was going to hear. He didn’t know what his reaction would be to that information. He didn’t know if he’d sympathise with you without wrecking havoc or burning down all of Paris for you.

“I don’t know. Not yet, at least.”

Seokjin nodded, looking back at the young priest with sympathetic eyes. He offered Jungkook a gentle smile, a resigned expression.

“I hope you find out. Call for me if she worsens, be careful with her.”

The archdeacon dismissed the physician with a subtle inclination of his head and a gesture from his hand. Once alone with the door closed, Jungkook sighed to himself. He ran a hand through his hair, his fingers trading through his brown and soft locks. His heart was a turmoil of questions and feelings he could no longer control. All the fear, the desperation as you had collapsed in his arms. The love, the lust, the guilt, the sorrow. They all mixed together, creating a cruel concoction of murky thoughts and shadowed desires.

He walked to the bed —his bed— and looked down at your sleeping form. The sight of you like this, so fragile, so unlike the vibrant force you usually were, struck him like a physical blow to the heart.

His eyes softened as he knelt by the bed, his knees pressing into the cold stone floor. His fingers hovered against yours, hesitant to touch you. Hesitant to harm you further. Weary of the feelings touching you would stir in his heart, the way they could taint his soul further with this burning desire he couldn’t suppress.

But he was weak, in his temptation, in his religion. In his own boundaries when it came to you. His hand touched yours, enveloping in the warmth of his large palm. Your skin was cold, your hand limp in his grasp.

“You should never have been hurt,”

Jungkook whispered, his voice breaking through the stillness of the room and the delicate cracking of the hearth. His fingers curled around yours, holding onto you, tethering you to him in this moment, in this instance of ardent emotions that seared through his soul.

“I should have been there. I should have stopped this.”

His free hand moved to brush a stray hair from your face, his touch lingering more than what was necessary as his palm rested on your cheek. His dark eyes, normally so still and emotionless, were now tender and filled with worry that threatened to bleed out like tears of poison.

The young archdeacon watched you with want, with desire. And a burning need to protect you. He took you in, the light shadow of your lashes against your skin, the curve of your lips, the shape of your nose. It looked as if you had turned more beautiful since the last time he saw you. As if you were the protagonist of one of the ethereal tapestries that hung on the cathedral walls. The candle at his bedside table flickered, the shadows sharpened your features. How beautiful you were. To him, there was no other beauty that could ever compare to him. Not the beauty of his faith, nor the one from the very cathedral. There was nothing as mesmerising as you. Mon Rêve. His dream. You were his dream. A perfect illusion of your soul.

“I swear to you,”

He continued, his voice low yet firm. It trembled with emotion yet it darkened with the weight of his promise.

“I swear, mon rêve, over everything that is holy that no one will ever touch you again. No one will ever hurt you. Not while you have me, not while I breathe.”

His hand left your cheek as he adjusted the wool blanket that covered your frame on the large mattress. His other hand never let go of yours. You stirred slightly, a soft sound escaping your lips but you didn’t wake. Only God knew what you had been through. But he was going to protect you with everything he had now that you were in his domain. In his cathedral. In his life.

Your eyes opened as a subtle groan left your lips. You looked around, your head hurt, drumming along the melody of your heart. You were first aware of the comfortable bed you were laying in. It was soft, cushioned beneath your weight. This was heaven. Perhaps you had died and your sufferment was over, perhaps you had died and this was the beginning of your torment.

You looked at your right, spotting a large window of stained glass. The morning light streamed through it, making beams of scarlet, blue and gold reflect onto the stone floor. The room was tidy, austere but comfortable. At the far end of it there was a burning fireplace, the soothing sound of the cracking flames easing your mind.

You took a deep breath, pushing yourself up on the bed. Pain shot through your side, a gasp escaped your lips and your eyes scrunched shut at the agony that seared on your abdomen. With a whimper, you leaned back on the headboard. Your hands fisted the dark silky sheets beneath you as the burning on your side subsided ever so slowly.

The sound of a door opening made you look up, your heart skipped a beat when you saw him.

Jungkook.

He stood at the doorway holding a silver tray in his hands. His eyes locked with yours and you saw how his gaze softened. Relief washed over him as he saw you conscious once more, or maybe a flicker of vulnerability he rarely allowed to surface. He closed the door behind him with his foot, the soft thud resounding in the otherwise quiet bedroom.

“You’re awake.”

His voice was soft but it carried that air of authority that made your sink further into the pillows behind you. His calming presence made you feel safe, he allowed you to relax in this world of shadows and secrets you were caught in.

He crossed the room to you as you nodded. Not once did you take your eyes off of him. You couldn’t. His long, dark robes swished with each step he took, his hands were steady as he carried the tray and settled it down on the nightstand at your left where an extinguished candle lay as well.

“Where… where am I?”

Your voice was laced with the remnants of your pain. It was soft, vulnerable. And you didn’t know how the sound of it tugged at his heartstrings.

Jungkook sat down on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipped under his weight. He studied you with calculating eyes but his gaze softened as he took in the unnatural pallor of your skin, the slight tremble of your hands as they fisted the blankets and how your features were tense with what he could guess was pain.

“You are in my quarters, it’s alright. You are safe here, no one will harm you now.”

The weight of his words settled over you like a warm blanket, but the memories still lingered, the way you had run, the burning in your lunds, the pain in your feet, the swinging of your long skirts; they were like shadows on the edge of your mind. You lowered your eyes, shame and confusion washing over you.

“How… how did I get here?”

He clenched his teeth, resisting the urge to take your hand in his larger one. Jungkook remembered what had happened last night, the intruders, the panic in your voice. The pleading for safety.

“You pleaded Sanctuary. You were injured, badly. I couldn’t leave you, I could never deny you.”

Jungkook’s voice was steady, yet there was an unmistakable tremor of emotion that lingered beneath the surface. He watched as your lips parted slightly, as if you wanted to speak, but the weight of your secrets seemed to silence you. He reached over to the tray, lifting the cloth that covered a bowl of soup and a plate of bread. The scent wafted through the air, warm and inviting, making your stomach churn with hunger.

“You need to eat,”

He said, his voice soft as he placed the tray on your lap with careful precision. His hands moved with a gentleness that contrasted with the sharpness of his gaze.

“You’ve been through enough. Your body needs strength.”

You hesitated, your eyes darting from the food to his face. There was something in the way he looked at you—a quiet intensity that made it impossible to refuse. Slowly, you reached for the spoon, your fingers trembling as they wrapped around it. Jungkook didn’t look away, didn’t flinch. Instead, he reached for the edge of the tray and steadied it, his presence grounding you in this moment of fragility.

The first sip of the soup was like a balm to your aching soul. The warmth spread through you, soothing the emptiness that clawed at your insides. It was potato soup, the best meal you had ever tasted. You hadn’t realized how hungry you were until now, and as you took another bite, Jungkook’s lips curled into the faintest hint of a smile.

“That’s it. Eat, my dear. You’ll feel better.”

He murmured, his voice low, you almost didn’t hear it. The bread was soft, the crust crisp as you tore off a piece and dipped it into the broth. You ate with a quiet desperation, each bite filling a void that had seemed endless. Jungkook remained by your side, watching over you like a sentinel, his dark eyes flickering with emotions he kept tightly under control.

As you ate, the silence between you felt heavy but not oppressive. It was as if Jungkook knew you needed this moment to gather yourself, to let the food and warmth begin to mend the frayed edges of your being. His presence was constant, unyielding, yet there was a gentleness in his proximity—a steadying force in the chaotic storm you had been swept into.

When you had eaten enough to dull the sharp ache in your stomach, you set the spoon down on the tray, your movements still trembling. Jungkook noticed immediately and reached out, his long fingers brushing against yours as he lifted it from your lap. The touch was fleeting, yet it grounded you in the present moment. He placed it on the nightstand with a quiet grace, his every movement deliberate, as if not to startle you.

“You were starving,”

His words made you swallow in nervousness. He wasn’t asking. He knew. And for that, you felt deeply conscious of your current situation, more so under his dark and sharp gaze. And yet, his voice was devoid of any judgement but in your self-reprimand, you didn’t notice the lace of concern that tangled with his words. His eyes locked with yours, searching but never prying for answers.

“When was the last time you had a proper meal?”

You hesitated, your hands twisting the blanket in your lap. The memories of the past days—or had it been weeks?—were a blur of fear, exhaustion, and endless running. You couldn’t remember the last time you had truly stopped to care for yourself. Shame crept up your neck, painting your cheeks a faint pink. You looked away, unable to meet his gaze.

“I don’t know… it’s been a while.”

Your voice was quiet, hesitant and embarrassed. It was nearly a whisper but it pulled at his heartstrings to hear speak with such vulnerability.

Jungkook leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on his knees, his posture relaxed but his gaze intense. His brows furrowed, his lips pressed into a thin line as he considered your words. He wanted to ask more, to unravel the mystery of your suffering, but he held back, sensing that you were not yet ready.

“Drink some water,”

He said, his tone filled with authority despite the softness in his deep voice. Once again, he wasn’t asking you. He commanded. With his presence, with his voice, with those eyes that were so dark you could lose yourself in them if you let go of your sanity. The young archdeacon reached to the tray once more, his long hand circling a silver cup filled with fresh water.

He handed it to you, and this time, you couldn’t suppress the shiver that racked through your spine when his fingers brushed yours one more time. You took a sip, your eyes fixed on the bottom of the top as you felt his attention fully on you, the cool liquid managed to sooth your dry throat and after you finished it, you cradled the cup in your hands. You looked down at it as if it were the most interesting thing in the world when in reality, Jungkook’s gaze intimidated you. Not because you saw the monotonous archdeacon, but because his eyes spoke feelings you were too scared to acknowledge.

After a moment of silence, Jungkook leaned back slightly, his dark robes pooling around him like shadows. His gaze softened, but his expression remained unreadable.

“I will never force you to tell me, I hate myself for even asking but (y/n), you are clearly running from something—or someone. I can protect you, but only if I know who wants to harm you.”

His words were a quiet plea, an offering of solace that you hadn’t expected. Your hands tightened around the silver cup as the memories threatened to resurface, as the walls you had so carefully built began to crack under his unwavering gaze.

“I… I can’t”

He sighed, leaning forward. One of his large hands covered yours over the cup you held, steadying your grip around it. Your eyes snapped up to meet his gaze, feeling how your heart thumped in your chest. Your eyes filled with tears and his expression softened.

“I only want to help you, (y/n). I do not wish to cause you harm, of any kind at all. You do not have to say anything if it pains you, but know that I seek to keep you safe.”

You bit your lower lip, breaking eye contact as you gazed at the still water in the cup. Jungkook pursed his lips, his hand tightened around yours before he let go and stood up, you clearly needed space. He didn’t want to seem like he was forcing you, he’d never force you to do anything but the moment he straightened up and his grip left your hand, your heart dropped.

The moment his hand left yours, the room felt colder, emptier. Your chest constricted as fear bubbled up, overwhelming your senses. Before you could think, your hand darted out, grabbing his wrist with a trembling grip.

“Wait! —please…”

He looked down at you, his gaze cryptic. Your eyes filled with tears, pearls of sadness that reflected your frustration, your grief. Jungkook sat down on the bed, his hand still clasped in yours. You couldn’t hold your gaze, you couldn’t face him as you were about to pour out your soul, your secrets. You’d open your heart for the first time in your life. Your eyes were casted downwards, fixed on your hands that cradled his larger palm.

“Can I be granted forgiveness?”

Your question made his heart seize, his posture relaxed and he did not make a move to take his hand away from your gentle grasp.

“God forgives every sin, my dear.”

You bit your lower lip to stop it from trembling, the tears spilled down, the knot in your throat quieted your voice, making you speak in just a soft whisper.

“Even for someone like me?”

Jungkook tilted your chin up, his thumb ran over your bottom lip, forcing you to stop biting it. You looked into his eyes, losing yourself in them for a moment. His eyes calmed your racing heart, your swirling thoughts.

“We are all children of God, there are no outcasts in this holy place.”

You took a deep breath, the candle at the bedside table flickered. You saw the dancing flame reflected in his eyes and the deep compassion that shone brighter than the moon in a dark night.

“I want to repent from my sins. I… I feel so guilty, so dirty.”

His hand left your chin and rested atop yours that still held his other hand between your palms. He didn’t pressure you, didn’t ask you. He only gave you his silent comprehension.

“The governor is searching for me, I-I took something from him. I have lied, I have stolen from the people who fed me, I have sold myself. I–I only want to live.”

A sob escaped your lips, the tears came again, unbidden this time. They flowed down your cheeks like rivers of grief as you mourned for your sins, the loss of your innocent soul and the tainted spirit you now carried with yourself.

1 year ago…

“Must you always be on the way, gypsy girl?!

You bowed down at the governor as he shoved past you in the ornate corridor of his big mansion. The plain fabric of your long skirt crumbled under your clenched fists, you heard the old and fat man walking down the hallways before disappearing into his study. The air in the governor’s mansion was always heavy—heavy with disdain, with arrogance, and with a suffocating sense of entitlement that reeked from every corner. You hated it, but you had no choice. It was survival. You were nothing more than a servant—“gypsy girl,” as they called you—never addressed by name, never acknowledged as a person.

The governor’s sneer as he passed you was something you had grown used to, though it still sent a cold shiver down your spine. The weight of his gaze lingered on you longer than it should have, and you hated how powerless you felt under it.

But it wasn’t just the governor who demeaned you. Every day was a constant stream of insults and sneers from the household staff and visitors alike.

“Filthy thing. Try not to stain the floors with whatever diseases you bring from the camps.”

One of the maids hissed at you as you scrubbed the marble floor, splashing dirty water onto your hands. You said nothing, swallowing the bitterness rising in your throat. Talking back would earn you a slap, or worse, a trip to the governor’s private chambers—a fate you dreaded above all else.

You remembered the first time it happened. It was silent and you were alone in the dining room one rainy evening. The sound of crystal chandeliers swaying above you as the faint hum of conversation drifted from the next room. The governor had entered, his steps slow, deliberate. Calculating. You hadn’t looked up. You weren’t allowed to. But if you had, you would have seen the evil smile that stretched over his languid features.

“You have grown, girl.”

His voice was oily and oddly sweet. It made your skin crawl. His beady eyes ran up and down your form, despite the modesty of your simple dress, you had felt naked in that instant, wishing nothing else but to disappear and become one of the pretty ladies in the paintings that hung all over the manor.

You had frozen in place, your hands clutching the rag you used to polish the silver. He had walked around you, circling like a predator cornering its prey.

“Do you know how lucky you are to serve in this house? To have a roof over your head, food in your belly?”

Your stomach twisted, you nodded, not uttering a single world. You felt him going behind you, your heart was drumming within your chest. As if it could somehow escape the confinement of your ribcage. His warm breath had brushed your neck as he took your hair and pushed it to the side, tears had gathered in your eyes. Tears of anger, of frustration, of helplessness. For you were alone in a world of wolves.

“Then you will repay my generosity. You will obey, or you will find yourself back on the streets—or worse.”

He had whispered, his hand trailing across your shoulder, making your body recoil, your stomach twist and your heart to stop.

You remembered the first time it happened. That night was your worst memory, your ugliest fear. You endured the cruelty of his perversion and the weight of his twisted mind. It wasn’t just the physical torment—though that was bad enough—it was the degradation, the feeling of being stripped of your humanity. You were no longer a person; you were a possession, a plaything.

And yet, through it all, you had kept your mind sharp, your spirit quietly burning with a desperation to escape. You watched. You listened. You learned.

One night, you overheard him boasting to a guest in his study about a decree he had signed—an order to “cleanse” the city of your people. He laughed as he spoke, talking about how the Romani were a stain on Paris, how their removal would bring peace and order.

Your heart had pounded in your chest as you realized the danger looming over your family, your people. The thought of their camps being raided, of the children and elders being slaughtered, ignited a fire within you.

You knew you couldn’t stop it—not alone. But you could run. You could escape with the decree, use it to expose him or to bargain for safe passage out of Paris.

And when you saw your opportunity, you took it. Without hesitation, without mercy. Just like they didn’t have mercy on you.

It came one night after the governor had stumbled back to his chambers in a drunken stupor, leering at you as you brought him his wine. His words were slurred while grabbing your wrist with an iron grip. “Stay. Entertain me.”

The memories of that night after he had said those words to you were a blur. You didn’t think much of that night, thanking that you were being protected by the obvious horrors your body and your mind had been exposed to in the hands of that bastard.

You had crept into his study, the desk was a mess. And under the light of a single candle your fingers quickly found what you were looking for: the decree. It bore his signature and the royal seal, its words a death sentence for your people.

You folded it, hiding it between the folds of your skirt. You had a second of hesitation, a heartbeat to think before you also grabbed the small, golden seal as well. Without it, the document was not valid and it was your opportunity of getting free passage out of Paris, this cursed city that had harmed your soul, taken your innocence and attacked your people. It was a promise of freedom that came with a signature of blood.

The memories dissipated from before your eyes. Your hands were trembling as you had let go of Jungkook’s hand and were now fisting the blankets of the bed. The tears wouldn’t stop coming, the pain, the memories, the humiliation. Everything came crashing back down at you like a tsunami of darkness. You were screaming underwater, where nobody heard. You were walking in snow, where no path was left behind and your destination could not be seen at all.

“I had to do it. I had to escape. If… if they hadn’t killed me first, I would have done it sooner or later; I couldn’t bear it anymore.”

Jungkook sat before you, his warm hands hesitating before finally resting over yours, still fisting the blankets. His touch was gentle, his fingers barely grazing your trembling knuckles, as though he was afraid you might shatter if he held you too tightly.

“You don’t have to explain, my dear. No one has the right to judge you for surviving.”

He whispered, his voice trembling with compassion. His thoughts were a dark concoction of emotions he had yet to decipher. Mon Rêve, what has been done to you? He felt a simmering fury bubble within his chest, but there was this icy sadness that enveloped his heart at the truths he just heard.

But you couldn’t stop. The words spilled out of you like an open wound, raw and unstoppable.

“They think I’m a thief, a liar, a—” your voice broke, and you choked back a sob, your chest heaving as the weight of it all crushed you. “But I was nothing to them—less than nothing. Just a gypsy girl they could use and discard. I was never going to matter to anyone… I had to matter to myself.”

Jungkook reached up, cupping your face. His thumbs brushed away the endless tears streaking your cheeks, but the warmth in his touch only seemed to make the flood worse. His eyes searched yours, desperate to hold you together as you crumbled before him like a beautiful glass doll that was cracked by the world’s cruelty.

“You matter to me.”

He said firmly, his voice breaking on the last word. His hands shook slightly, betraying the storm he was trying so hard to conceal. Your eyes softened and you couldn’t stop the tears that rolled down your cheeks.

“And to God, you are His child. You were never forgotten, even when it felt like the world had turned against you.”

You shook your head, the anguish and shame too deeply ingrained to believe him.

“I am so broken. I have done terrible things, things that do not deserve forgiveness. I am tainted. Corrupted. I’ve become—”

“Stop.”

Jungkook said, his voice quiet but commanding. His hands slid from your face to your shoulders, holding you steady so you would hold his gaze.

“You are not broken. You are not beyond forgiveness. You are not beyond redemption. You did what you had to do to survive. You are here now, and that is all that matters.”

The gentleness in his voice unraveled something within you. He untied the coil of your memories, letting them flow. Letting you cry as you sobbed. Your body shook and you whimpered and gasped and cried. Jungkook didn’t hesitate; he pulled you into his arms, his strong embrace engulfing your shaking form as he held you tightly against his chest. He let you cry, one of his hands rested on the back of your head as you screamed and wailed out your grief that had choked you for months. He rocked you ever so softly, his arms tightening around you, grounding your mind to the present, away from the memories that corrupted your soul and shielded you from your fears.

“I promise you,”

He began, murmuring in a soft voice that seemed to come from the angels themselves. His words tangled in your hair as you clung to him like your only anchor in a sea of despair.

“I promise you are safe here. As long as I breathe, no-one will hurt you again, mon rêve.”

The endearment slipped from his lips but you didn’t mind. His words felt fragile, fleeting, like a prayer cast into the wind. You clung to him, burying your face into his shoulder as the dam finally broke. The pain you had carried alone for so long poured out of you in waves, and he held you through every sob, every tremble.

“You are not broken, my dear. You are a survivor and I will always keep you safe. Always.”

January/23/2025

~ Masterpost

☕Caffeinate me so I can keep on writing! ☕

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