UNREAL

UNREAL

🌿 pairing: demon!jungkook x reader

🌿 genre: fluff, crack, horror, eventual smut

🌿 rating: 4.67/5

🌿 rank: #2

On-Going Series

🌿 summary

you've been using babysitting as a way to gain extra money on the side, every memory from each family was different from the last. but what happens when that family you've heard rumors of gained interest in you, assigning you a job to take care of their supposedly "dead" son

your only objective is to clean his grave where his body was buried in the back of the mansion, talk to the grave for a few minutes as if the boy was still alive

you didn't know why they'd want you to do something so unnerving, but at least you're getting paid plenty

🌿 episodes

one

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three

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back-burner | 03

use your words

PAIRING. min yoongi x reader

GENRE. sister’s best friend!au, best friend to lovers!au, sorta frenemies?to lovers!au, angst, *slow burn*, eventual smut, fluff

WARNINGS. one-sided pining (?), longing, sibling jealousy, heartache :(, stubborn oc, dare i say a hint of ... softness?

WORDS. 3.7k

You think this is the longest you’ve gone without any form of interaction with Yoongi since you’ve first met him.

Jungkook, on the other hand, takes his best friend duties very seriously, occasionally making sure that you were still alive and not wallowing in mortification after what had happened at your father’s gala. You appreciated the sentiment, especially when he stops by with some of your favourite snacks and a promise of some alcohol.

“Still no news?” He doesn’t bother with the introductions, simply plopping comfortably onto your sofa as you sigh.

“No,” you grumble, fiddling with the hem of your hoodie. You actually think it’s Yoongi’s from high school. It was probably unconscious the way that you sought for his scent even when he wasn’t around.

“Man, you really fucked up,” he whistled lowly while you glare at the back of his head. “You’re lucky that he didn’t do anything.”

Lucky. What an odd adjective to describe your predicament.

Only if Jungkook saw how Yoongi looked when he dragged you into an empty room, eyes ablaze while you stood pliant under his gaze.

You thought he was going to do something. Not physical, at least to hurt you. You trusted Yoongi with your life, even if you were being irrationally bothersome that day when you were drunk. You knew he’d never hurt you.

But when you recall the way his eyes glazed over your face, then down your neck, then to the expanse of your exposed chest—you remembered how on high alert you were, every one of your hairs erected when he drew closer.

You remember the cautious yet purposeful steps he took towards you, eyes never leaving your face while all you could do was gulp in his domineering presence. Even when he was right in front of you, closer than he’s ever been with his chest pressed against your front—you didn’t pull away.

You don’t know if you were that drunk, but you swore that his eyes flickered to your lips.

But then he was pulling away, avoiding your eyes by taking a one-eighty in his aura before telling you he was taking you home.

You expected an earful from him. A voice of reason, some form of reprimand. A warning. But you got none. And by the time he pulls up to the lobby of your apartment, he was the same, distant yet comfortable Yoongi that you always knew.

“Whatever,” you sigh before kicking your feet up onto the empty space next to you, staring mindlessly at the ceiling while a thousand thoughts run through your mind. “What’s his deal anyway …”

Jungkook snorts. “You’re asking me? Did you conveniently forget that you accused him of doing nice things for you because he wanted to kiss Haerin’s ass?”

“Of course not,” you snap, “And don’t tell me I’m wrong.”

Jungkook shoots you a pointed look before he’s turning his entire body to face you, eyes boring straight into your skull while you ignore his apparent gaze.

“Listen, even if I don’t know what the exact status of Yoongi and Haerin’s relationship is—” you scowl at his words, but even then he pushes forth, “—Yoongi isn’t that type of guy. I don’t know him half as well as you do but I know enough that he would never treat you the way he does just because your his other best friend’s little sister.”

Other best friend.

It’s a bitter reminder, but it’s the truth. No matter how much you consider Yoongi to be a dear, trusted friend in your life—you know that you’ll always come second to Haerin.

“I know,” you admit belatedly, shrinking into your seat. Jungkook gives you a small smile before he’s squeezing your knee in consolation. “It’s just … they’re perfect together …”

You hate how you sound so meek, so unsure of yourself. But you only allowed yourself this space to be vulnerable, and even if Yoongi was your best friend—someone that you’ve grown to trust; how could you ever tell him what plagues your heart and mind when it was just him?

You knew Jungkook would never judge you, and for that reason, you’re thankful that he’s in your life even if neither of you would ever admit that outwardly.

“That’s only because that’s all you’ve known to think,” Jungkook says.

“For a good reason,” you say softly, “If not each other then who?” Your eyes rest on Jungkook’s figure as you seek an answer. You knew it, though. There was no one else but each other for the two of them. “It’s always been Haerin and Yoongi, Jungkook. I’m just—just someone who he met along the way.”

Jungkook sighs. “Look, I can’t tell you what Yoongi feels because I don’t know. I don’t know how Haerin feels either. But right now, you’re beating yourself up about your own feelings because of arbitrary standards that the world has placed on all of us? I know it’s hard, but if you continue to do this to yourself it’s only going to get worse.”

You hate that Jungkook’s right. It’s a mantra you try to repeat to yourself daily, but your heart is stubborn more than your mind is—and you’ve only remained rooted in position.

“Why can’t he just …” you trail off, “Why did I have to be me?”

Jungkook frowns. “Don’t—”

The door rings, and the two of you freeze.

“Did you order something?” you ask.

“No,” he says with a shake of his head before he pushes himself off your couch. “Did you?”

“I was wallowing before you came,” you frown, “And you always bring the food!”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, finally reaching your door as his hand slowly reaches for the knob with a tentative touch. You eye his back curiously, wondering who rang the doorbell at a relatively odd time.

Jungkook turns the knob and opens the door, and the person that comes face-to-face with him sends a shiver down your spine.

“What—hyung?”

“Jungkook,” Yoongi greets impassively with a curt nod, a plastic bag in his grasp before he’s looking over the younger boy’s shoulder.

His eyes meet your widened ones as you feel yourself freeze on the spot, unable to process the fact that he was at your doorstep.

“Was I interrupting something?” he asks with a raised brow.

“No,” Jungkook blinks, and you almost call him out for his lie but you don’t. You’re still at a loss for words.

“I have food,” he mentions, lifting the bag. You wonder how he’s so nonchalant as if your heart wasn’t threatening to beat out of your chest.

It’s because he doesn’t feel the that you do.

Your frown returns as your face darts to the ground.

“You didn’t text,” you grumble.

“Did I ever need to?” he retorts, walking over to your couch with Jungkook following closely behind.

“It’s rude,” you snap, “Coming here unannounced.”

“Jungkook came here unannounced,” he says blandly, and you hate that he’s rather spot on.

“So?” you scowl.

“Your favouritism is showing,” he laments, plopping onto the space next to you as you immediately feel yourself tense up.

Jungkook eyes you sceptically, likely attempting to gauge your reaction. You briefly make eye contact as you plead with him with your expression, Yoongi completely unaware of your internal breakdown.

Jungkook seems to read you completely wrong, because he hovers awkwardly behind your couch, body language indicating something that makes your brow tick.

“I actually … got to go,” he says lamely, cocking his thumb out your door as you gawk at him.

“What the—?”

“Cool,” Yoongi says, looking up briefly in the midst of unpacking the food before offering his small, yet amicable grin. “You sure you don’t want any food?”

“You just got here,” you grit.

“No I didn’t,” he blinks, and you’re just about contemplating six different ways to dislodge his legs from his body so he wouldn’t be able to leave.

“It’s pure vodka, by the way,” Jungkook says, gesturing to the drinks he brought before he decided to abandon you like the little shit he was. “Enjoy, you two.”

Your instincts kick in, your feet immediately sending you off the couch as your arm reaches out to yank the hem of his shirt before he can depart. His eyes widen, catching your venomous stare as you feel the nerves settle when you realise that Yoongi was right behind you. As if nothing happened—and as if he hadn’t ghosted you for a literal month.

“What the fuck are you doing,” you hiss venomously.

“Giving you your window,” he replies, equally as exasperated as your jaw ticks.

“Did you not—are you fucking stupid?” you snap, uncaring if Yoongi hears. You were in a crisis!

“No, you are,” he says childishly before tugging away with all the strength he has and making a beeline for your door.

You gape at his antics, especially when he shoots you a look with his eyes that says you better talk to him, right before he gives one last wave to Yoongi.

Once the door slams, and you’re left with only the reminder of Jungkook in the alcohol and snacks he brought; you find your entire body tensing at your other uninvited guest.

You wrack your brain for an excuse to get him out of your apartment, to get him away. Even if you hadn’t seen him in so long—you needed the space. You still couldn’t properly look him in the face after what had happened between the two of you at your family’s gala, and you knew Yoongi well enough that he wanted answers from you when you were sober and not pissed drunk.

But before you can come up with anything meaningful, Yoongi’s voice breaks through your inner monologue.

“Are you gonna stand there like an idiot or come eat?”

You freeze, hands limp by your side as you take in his flat tone. He doesn’t sound particularly mad, just like himself. The same Yoongi that you’ve always known.

You hate that your heart still stutters at his voice.

“Oh, so now we’re back to being demanding?” Is what you say instead of listening to him, finally turning around to level him with a glare.

“I think you made it abundantly clear that I’m an alpha male, right?” he says dryly, uncaring at the way your ear flushes at his clear recollection of that night. “Sit your ass down and eat. I know you haven’t had your dinner yet.”

You hate how he always knows.

“There you go again,” you mutter, stubbornly plopping as far away as you could from him while you take in the smell of steak and some homemade stew.

You internally curse him because you knew that he brought this exact meal on purpose. It was your favourite.

“Eat,” he demands, and it almost feels normal.

Almost.

You begrudgingly dig into your food, pettily ignoring his eyes when they remain trained on the side of your face and the way your cheeks swell up when you shove spoonfuls of rice into your mouth. It was a distraction to the erratic beating of your heart and the fact that Yoongi hasn’t indicated any sign of being particularly displeased with your behaviour from the other night.

It’s also because he isn’t really doing anything in general. He eats in silence next to you, soft smacks of his lips to tell you that he wasn’t dead.

You wonder how Yoongi does it sometimes. Pretending like this wasn’t an awkward situation and that you didn’t say the things that you did. You were marginally thankful because you knew that the moment he’d hint at what happened that night—your walls would immediately clam up.

But, you spoke too soon because Yoongi swallows the last bit of food in his mouth before he settles his plastic plate onto the table in front of him.

“So,” he drawls lazily, leaning back into your couch as you take another huge bite of your steak. “What was that?”

“Wuh wuz what?” you say through a muffle, even though you knew exactly what he meant.

Yoongi glares at you, right before his thumb reaches out to swipe at the corner of your lip.

You nearly choke on your food, especially when he casually brings it to his lips to lick off whatever the fuck he got off from your face.

He never did that before.

And why the fuck did he look so relaxed? Your brain was whirring, and you couldn’t bear to swallow your food when Yoongi was oblivious to the screaming that you were currently doing in your mind.

What the fuck was going on.

“Your family’s gala,” he reminds, “Your tantrum. Explain.”

You finally swallow, cheeks undoubtedly flush as you gape at him.

“I did not throw a tantrum!”

“You did,” he blinks, “You called me an annoying asshole.”

“You act like that’s new,” you snort.

“No, it isn’t,” he admits before he supplements his point with a pointed gaze. “Then you said that the only reason I’m around you is because of Haerin.”

You freeze.

“No I didn’t,” you lie.

“I was literally sober when it happened,” he says dryly, “Who are you trying to fool?”

You glare at him through reddened cheeks and a petulant expression.

“So? Now you want to talk? After disappearing like a fucking ghost?”

Yoongi pauses, his entire frame locking. But it isn’t a demeanour of unsureness. It’s just Yoongi taking a breather to think; because if Yoongi was anything, he was calculated. He never said anything that was out of place, or without considering the implications of his words. It’s one thing that strikes the two of you so contrastingly.

While you were all things collateral, he was brutally calm.

“Yeah. Haerin said it’s best to give you space,” he shrugs easily.

Now, it was your turn to lock up.

And you burn. You burn so hot and so furious that you can’t think straight. Your chest clenches and it’s such a familiar feeling that you can’t find it in yourself to feel anything but the ache in your lungs. Her name is almost like a curse, something that you want to avoid but can’t.

You should’ve known.

“You really are an ass kisser,” you spit, your words coming out before you can rationalise them.

He raises a brow at the shift in your tone, and his stance is on guard when you see him shift his knee over the other.

“We’re doing this again?”

Out of all times, you really wished you could get a better read of Yoongi. To understand why he was so detached and so present at the same time. How he could view everything mechanically like he was trained to do, rather than how your heart did the acting before your brain could decide whether or not it was in place of the situation.

“You come here, after a month, only cause my sister asked you to!” you exasperate, “Of course we’re doing this again! Cause you’re proving my point.”

“Do you think I’d come here if I didn’t care at all?” he asks, and you know he’s serious.

“Does that fucking matter, Yoongi?” you sneer, “You would have turned up at all if it weren’t for Haerin! What does that make you, huh? You don’t care.”

“I meant what I said,” he says lowly, eyes peering up as you continue to run on pure fumes. “If you have anything to say, say it.”

“What’s the fucking point,” you snap, “Seriously. Yeah, I fucked up—so what? I was drunk! People do stupid shit all the time when they’re wasted!” Your attempt at rationalising was futile, you knew that. Especially when Yoongi looks unimpressed with your words. “You know, I thought we were at least friends. But no, you just want to fuck Haerin—!”

You knew you were being childish, and you couldn’t even blame it on alcohol. You were sober. Soberer than you were that night, yet the same words ring loudly in the air.

“Don’t say that,” he snaps, eyes firm when he stares at you. “I’m here because I care. Does it matter if your sister asked me to be here?”

It does, you want to scream. To tell him that it matters so much because you only did when it was at the words of your sister.

“You don’t,” you say while rolling your eyes. “You know. Yeah, we’re close. But we don’t have to be.”

You don’t know what you’re saying.

“Don’t fucking say that,” he growls, and you jump at his sharp tone. Your eyes are wide when they land on his frame, noting the way he looks visibly displeased.

“That night, you disappearing … you know what, maybe we shouldn’t be friends,” you say loudly, putting on a brave face.

You don’t know why you’re saying what you are, or what compels you to say the exact opposite of what your heart wants. Of how you feel, right now, when your chest feels heavy with regret and anguish while you’re forced to look at Yoongi while you do so.

Yoongi’s face is menacing, and you nearly gulp when your eyes meet his. They’re completely hooded, piercing through your tough face as you keep it locked on his. But you know he sees right through it because he’s leaning closer, much like he did that night as your breath hitches.

“You know it fucking sucks when you do so much for someone to only have them say shit like this to your face.”

Your brows furrow, confusion written all over your face.

“What—?”

Then, he pulls back. Just like he did that night, and his face returns to its blank state.

“Your pitch,” he says blankly as your head reels at the whiplash of character he took.

“My what?” you ask, flabbergasted.

“Tomorrow. You have a pitch to the local authorities for the NGO you’re working with, right?”

He remembered.

“I …” you trail off weakly, and Yoongi is staring at you so intently that your eyes immediately dart to the ground.

He doesn’t let you, because his hand is immediately reaching out to grab your cheek—gently, but firmly enough that all you can do is gawk at him while his thumb presses into the indent of your skin.

“You think I don’t care?” he whispers, and you wonder if he can hear your heart in your throat. “You think I do all that I do for Haerin?”

“You—“

“I know she’s your sister and you feel like you live off her but I didn’t choose to befriend you because she asked me to,” he deadpans, “You always go off about how I’m an asshole for doing this and that, and how you don’t need me. How the fuck do you think that makes me feel?”

You blink, stunned, but still unable to say anything or move with the way he keeps his hand around your cheeks, eyes still trained on yours.

“You talk a lot of shit for someone who can’t ever get the point across.”

You gasp.

“You dick—!”

“And I’m the only one that’ll ever tell you that,” he says quietly, yet so seriously that you feel yourself reel back a little.

“You don’t—what gives you the right?” you snap back weakly, trying to pry his hand off, but all that does is make him squeeze your cheeks once more.

You feel dizzy, and you can’t point out the funny feeling in your stomach because it’s paired along with that dull ache in your chest whenever you were around Yoongi.

“If you have a problem with me, you tell me. Don’t throw your tantrums and expect me to understand.”

“I don’t throw tantrums!” you growl.

“And I don’t owe you an explanation on why I disappeared and why I’m here now.”

You know he’s right.

“So either you grow up and talk to me like an adult and tell me what’s on your mind, or we can just sit here in silence and eat the damn food.”

You want to tell him so badly. And there’s something in your gut that says his eyes are almost in a silent plea. But you can’t. You can’t when your mind is hazy with visions of her, the way she looks, the way she speaks—the beautiful nature of her friendship with Yoongi that’s likely so much more than that.

The way that she’s everything that you should’ve been but isn’t.

The way that she would have never thrown your damn tantrums.

“You’re so annoying,” you say softly.

His eyes soften ever so slightly before he’s loosening his grip on your cheeks. You feel oddly lamented, but you don’t show it on your face. Instead, your tough facade returns as you glare at him.

He takes that as your answer.

“You too,” he throws back as you scowl. “Eat.”

He lets you go as you continue to shoot a sour glare at him. Only Yoongi could return to his stoic state after what you and he said to each other. But it’s always been like this. You act out, Yoongi checks you—and you fall back into peace. He’s the only one that could ever understand your erratic tendencies. To accept that you were havoc on your own.

Only Yoongi had the patience to not leave you.

You grumble, rubbing at your cheek while Yoongi ignores the clear indication of irritation posed at him.

You sit in silence, and it’s calm again. Just like after every time Yoongi cleans up your mess, picks up the fallen insecurities that even you don’t see. It’s because Yoongi listens when there’s silence, and acts when it’s loud.

“Don’t say that shit ever again,” he speaks up after a while, eyes trained on his phone as your head slowly edges up to catch his side profile.

“You’re my best friend too.”

It’s enough to make your heart flutter.

Then you realise it’s too.

Two.

You’d always be the second person. Never the first. Never the one.

You wonder when you could ever be more than that.

Your eyes linger on his face for a beat longer, and when he turns to look at you. You flush, ducking your head back into the stew as he snorts.

He brushes a hand over your hair, and for that moment—you could pretend that it was just you.

back-burner | 02

some shine brighter than the rest but it gets dark sometimes

PAIRING. min yoongi x reader

GENRE. sister’s best friend!au, best friend to lovers!au, sorta frenemies?to lovers!au, angst, *slow burn*, smut, fluff

WARNINGS. one-sided pining (?), longing, sibling jealousy, heartache :(, academic/life insecurities, parents comparing you to your sibling

WORDS. 3.1k

You stare at the screen, blank-faced and rather moody as you slump further in your seat.

Your parents can't be bothered to nag at your long face, and even if they did you wouldn't have listened anyway. It's not unusual for you to act up at an event you were unwillingly dragged to, especially when the said event was meant to celebrate the achievements of your ever-perfect older sister while you played the part of the black sheep of the family.

But you suppose completing her PhD at only twenty-six years old was a highly impressive feat that you couldn't even put be a Debby downer towards. Haerin worked hard and you witnessed all of her hard work with your own eyes. From pulling all-nighters and scheduling excessive meetings with her mentor—she's done everything at the top of her game, and it clearly paid off when her published works were used and praised by top universities across the world.

So when she walks up to the podium, back straight and a smile as wide as she was taught to have, you can't help but think how pretty damn cool she was. Even if you were begrudgingly compared to her every waking moment of your life.

Haerin is the poster image of elegance when she adjusts the collar of her blouse right before she beams at the crowd in front of her. When she skims the crowd, you briefly see her eyes rest on your family and that's when your mother decides to flail her arms around to catch her attention.

You sink further, burning at the embarrassment of suddenly being on the big screen. It's an odd look, you nearly scowling while your parents smile brightly in pride. You try to fix your face, but it's to no avail when you realise that you'll always look like a raging bitch no matter how hard you try.

When she speaks, her voice is smooth as honey and crystal as clear waters.

"Good afternoon to the dean, fellow academics, graduates and honourable guests," she recites gracefully with impeccable precision, never once looking down to her script.

You hear your mother choke on a sob as you try not to roll your eyes at her dramatics.

"It's an absolute honour to be standing on this stage and giving this speech to people that I've looked up to throughout my academic journey," she says, beaming to the Professor that helped her through her PhD who stands next to her before she's taking another deep breath.

"Often, we look up to people who have numerous awards and recognition under their name," she smiles, "But we tend to forget that these people—like me, and like you—are simply humans ..."

You know what Haerin is saying is probably some phenomenal, philosophical concept that has people oohing and ahhing alike, but you really couldn't be bothered to hear her wax poetic. After all, philosophy was her forte after she's dedicated her twenties to studying that field of study.

She says people clap, some cry, it's an average day witnessing Haerin's impact. You're more than used to seeing her be celebrated like she was a God amongst mere mortals, so used that you don't even notice the person that slides into the seat next to you.

"You look bored."

You blink, barely catching yourself as you turn your head to the source of the voice.

The words get stuck in your throat when you finally acknowledge your new guest, lips tilted slightly upwards as he levels you with an amused smile.

"I'm not," you say as you clear your throat, "Just tired."

"So, bored," he chuckles.

"At least I got here on time," you snap back, mostly in embarrassment at being called out.

Yoongi shoots you an unimpressed look before he's turning back to focus his attention on your sister who's still gathering her applause like it was nothing.

"You know I had a shift at the ER," he says pointedly.

"Yeah. So don't nag at me for things that are out of my control, okay?" you say with a roll of your eyes.

Yoongi smirks to himself before shaking his head.

"You're in a mood," he muses.

"Why wouldn't I be?" you mutter under your breath as you fold your arms across your chest. "I have to watch my older sister collect awards left and right like Thanos collects his infinity stones. How do you think I'd live up to that?"

Yoongi laughs, a little louder than you'd expected as you spot an elderly lady who glares at him. Your parents are way too focused on recording Haerin from every angle possible to greet your new guest so they don't even notice the sound coming from him.

Yoongi stays silent for a beat before he turns to you, face neutral as you shift nervously in your seat at the fact that you'd likely overshared.

"It's whatever, I'm just jo—"

"You don't have to live up to that," he finally says.

You blink, slowly turning your head to see Yoongi shrugging at you with an unreadable expression.

He's always been a little hard to understand, but he was understanding. You suppose you'd take what you could get.

"Easy for you to say," you snort, "You don't have a legacy to live up to."

"No, I don't," he grins, "But I know you."

You narrow your eyes at him as he gives you a reassuring look as if he was able to explain to you how he truly knew you.

Frankly, you didn't doubt him. Yoongi was one of the few people in your life who stuck around despite your erratic tendencies, or even when you were brattier than usual. Though you'd really like to attribute it to the fact that he was a nice person in general, or that he cared about you—you knew why he stayed as long as he did.

And that thought sends a bitter expression on your face.

"I don't think you do," you mumble, focusing back onto the stage where your sister seems to collect her umpteenth award for the day.

Yoongi doesn’t respond. The cheers grow louder, and you suppose Haerin had said something sensational once again when the audience stands up to give her a standing ovation. You wish you could feel bad that you missed out on the latter part of your speech, but you knew that people like her didn’t rely on luck to receive recognition. It was just her.

So, you stand up, plaster a tight smile that hides the inhibition that ferments in your chest and let the claps drown your thoughts.

Haerin smiles, and she looks as beautiful as ever. You look away.

“You made it!” Haerin’s voice is bell-like when she spots Yoongi hovering behind your parents who have already doused her in hugs and congratulations.

“Of course I did,” he returns with a roll of his eyes, but even then, his arms immediately reach out to wrap around her petite frame.

You force yourself to glance away when his eyes grow soft as she beams up at him with her charming smile.

“I know the hospital gets really busy this time—”

“Stop,” he sighs, shaking his head good-naturedly while you’re essentially forced to absorb their conversation like an outsider; stomach unsettled when her giggles melt perfectly along with his own laugh. “This is an important day for you. I’d never miss out on this.”

You’d like to think that you were relatively good at shielding your emotions. You survived twenty-two years by suppressing the anger that bubbled for whatever reason because Haerin was out there achieving greatness. When you were in a household that only valued excellence, anything but that was sourly shoved aside.

But now, your face is tight. Tighter than usual, at least. It’s to a point that your mother sends you a scowl, a warning in her eyes when she looks over at you.

Don’t ruin this for Haerin, it says.

Before you can excuse yourself, your father’s resounding voice cuts through the atmosphere.

“Yoongi’s always taking good care of you, Haerin,” he says fondly, smoothing a hand over your sister’s hair while her eyes grow into crescents at his statement.

“He is,” she agrees softly.

“It’s nothing,” Yoongi chuckles, pulling away so your sister can fully settle into the embrace of her father while he smiles proudly at her.

You wonder what it’s like. To have eyes on you like you’ve hung the stars in the sky.

Instead, your eyes drift to the dirt beneath you.

“He’d be a good husband,” your mother whispers, nudging Haerin as her face flushes in mortification.

You bite your tongue, swallowing the bile that threatens to spill out of your throat at the idea.

It wasn’t a new one, but it’s one that you can never grow used to. Not when it was so possible, and so expected. It’s only a harsh reminder that whatever you were feeling would always be shielded anyway. Especially when it wasn’t your emotion to feel, to express.

Not when Haerin and Yoongi were the pair made in heaven.

“Mom!” she hisses, right before offering Yoongi an apologetic smile.

He doesn’t even bat an eye. He simply smiles at her, shrugging his shoulders as if it didn’t bother him. You nearly scoff because it definitely didn’t. Why would that bother him? Haerin was perfect. It makes perfect sense.

They were perfect for each other.

Your voice gets stuck in your throat, and it’s commonplace that you’ve yet to utter a single word in Haerin’s presence. The limelight is always on the one that offers substance, not the one misguided and misdirected. You don’t mind the disregard; you were used to it.

But the tenderness in Yoongi’s gaze is hard to get used to.

“Anyway,” she coughs, shaking your father’s grip off before she’s grinning widely at you. “You’re here too!”

Haerin has always been kind.

She’s someone that all sorts of parents use as a role model for their own kids. Study hard so you can be as intelligent as Haerin. Mind your manners so you can be as classy as Haerin. Do this, do that—so you can be like Haerin.

It was you that held the animosity.

“Of course,” you mumble, offering her a small smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes before she’s tumbling into your chest.

You’re taller, but that never negates her presence. The way she takes up space in all the right ways, with her brightness and her charm that could captivate anyone.

You had the height, but you were only half the person Haerin could ever be.

“Thank you for coming,” she whispers, grabbing onto your shoulder when she nuzzles her face into the crook of your neck.

“Why wouldn’t I,” you mutter, stiffly patting her back.

“You’re busy, I know.” You nearly roll your eyes because she was the one with a PhD. Not you.

“Not really,” you concede, and you note the bored expressions that mark your parents’ face.

You don’t even want to see what Yoongi thinks.

Haerin pulls away just enough to shoot you another smile. You wonder what it’s like to truly look so happy all the time. You suppose when you don’t have to pretend it’s much easier to smile the way Haerin does.

“You’re working with grassroots aren’t you?” she asks cheerily, and you’re mildly surprised that she remembered.

“Uh, yeah but—”

“Haerin! We want some pictures out front of you!” Your mother interjects, immediately pulling your sister away as she yelps at the sudden force.

Your face returns to its stoic state, not the least bit surprised that your parents were disinterested in hearing your involvement in grassroots. It wasn’t the elite thing to do. They always made a stern reminder to you to keep their names out of the loop when you were working with activists across districts.

So when Haerin offers you a pout and an apologetic expression, you only shrug before you’re pulling away yourself.

Your parents don’t shoot you another glance before they’re dragging Haerin away, animatedly discussing her offers from top firms that valued her publications.

Only then, do you remember that Yoongi still remains silent. It’s almost humiliating that he’s witnessed that exchange, but it’s nothing he hasn’t seen before. And you know that he’s witnessed the worst moments, but the reminder never failed to sting.

It’s because the light shines so bright on Haerin that he may just get lost in your darkness.

“That’s cool.”

His voice interjects just as you turn on your heel, stopping you from moving any further as your eyes rest on the path before you.

You don’t say anything, and he takes that as his cue to continue.

“Haerin always tells me about what you do,” he says, walking up to your side until he’s directly in front of you that you can’t ignore his presence. When you look up, Yoongi still looks monotone, but his eyes are still kind. And they’re trained on you. “You’re a driven person.”

That makes you scoff.

“You’re really going to tell me that after you just saw my sister receive her PhD?” you say dryly.

He frowns. “That doesn’t make you any less driven of a person.”

You note that he doesn’t even compare you to her. It sends a warm feeling to your stomach.

But reality hits, and you suppose it’s because you couldn’t compare yourself to Haerin when she was in a league of her own.

“You don’t need to comfort me, okay?” you sigh, “I’m used to it. My parents love what Haerin does and it doesn’t bother me. In fact, it’s easier to get away with working with activists when they aren’t all up in my business anyway.”

Your words earn a small twitch from Yoongi’s lips, and you’re wondering what he finds so funny.

You realise that Yoongi tends to find a lot of the things you say amusing. You weren’t even that much of a funny person. You were far more boring than your sister, so you genuinely wonder what runs through his mind.

Before you can pose the question, he shrugs with a gentle shake of his head.

“I’m not comforting you,” he says pointedly, raising a brow at you when you snort at him.

“Could’ve fooled me with the unwarranted pity party you were throwing me with your eyes,” you say, narrowing your gaze at him.

Yoongi laughs, shoulder shaking before he peers down at you with his cheeks rounded in amusement. You hate that your heart still stutters in your chest even after everything you’ve witnessed. Even when you vividly picture how right his arms looked around your sister.

“I called you driven and now it’s a pity party?” he laughs, hand reaching out to squeeze your shoulder as you nearly jump at the contact. “You really need to fix your comprehension skills.”

It’s light-hearted, and you’re used to Yoongi poking fun at you. You were virtually the only person you’ve ever seen him truly joking with, not even with your sister.

Haerin was more mellowed down, less crass than you were. So the time for jokes was, well, there were definitely jokes but you don’t think (or know) if she and Yoongi have laughed until they cried.

You know you have, but you don’t sign off that possibility. There were things that Haerin and Yoongi did in private that you never allow yourself to indulge in.

Your heart would never survive.

“Maybe you’re just bad at getting things across,” you retort.

He smiles. “Maybe. But I meant what I said.”

“I fail to see how me working grassroots who have volunteers from all over makes me driven,” you mumble.

Yoongi stares at you a second longer than you anticipated. And you find yourself squirming under his gaze.

His eyes are always intense, even when you know that there was no malice underneath his irises. Yoongi was naturally just an all-in person that made it very hard to breathe around him. Especially when you knew that he was observant and could pick apart almost what anyone was thinking.

Sometimes, you were terrified that he saw right through your emotions.

“People have different modes of transport in getting to where they belong in life,” he says.

You blink, furrowing your eyebrows at him, confused. “What?”

He glances to the side, stuffing his hands into his pocket as a small smile appears on his usually blank face.

He looks stunning this way, jaw chiselled and emphasised by the natural light and the way that his forehead remains exposed with his hair styled back. It’s devastating, but you can’t help but stare.

“We all have different starting points and different endpoints,” he says matter-of-factly, “Some people are good drivers—so they take cars. Metaphorically, at least.”

“Yoongi, what are you even saying,” you deadpan.

He ignores you and continues.

“Some people don’t feel comfortable driving, so they take buses, or bicycles, or even go by foot. Or have people drive them places.” His voice is smooth when he carries forward, and you’re still lost at the point he’s attempting to make. You wonder if this is the influence of Haerin’s philosophical knowledge.

“Different modes of transport means taking different routes. A car can’t travel in water, and a plane can’t park in a garage—they all essentially serve their own purpose effectively in the medium that they were made to serve it in.”

You’ve always known Yoongi to be extremely introspective, but you’ve never heard him wax poetic about transportation vehicles before.

But as always, you listen. You always do, especially if it’s him that’s speaking.

Finally, he looks at you, and your heart nearly lurches out of your chest when his eyes soften at your gaping expression.

“Point is, we’re all driving to our own destination points, and each journey is unique to each person,” he says softly as your breath hitches.

“But I’m no Haerin,” you mumble quietly, finally speaking and finally understanding what Yoongi was getting at.

“You aren’t,” he concedes as you feel your heart drop. But he picks it up immediately with his reassuring grin and the hand that smoothes over your hair comfortingly. “You don't have to be.”

You feel your cheeks grow warm, and you hope he doesn’t notice.

“So don’t knock yourself down just because you’re heading in a different direction than she is,” he says, “You’re driven. And you’re doing great in what you do. That’s all that matters.”

When he looks at you once more, eyes honest and pure with his hand resting over your head—

You realise that Yoongi does know you.

But perhaps, it isn’t enough.

revenge is brutally sweet | jeon jungkook

—jeon jungkook’s life so far has been going well. he’s the guitarist of the most famous band in the scene, he’s got the girl of his dreams, and everything he’s ever wished for is in the palm of his hands. what he doesn’t expect though, is to wake up one day in the middle of a controversy. what the controversy is, you may ask? a new band has been hitting the charts, and their lead singer is none other than you, a former member of the band and his ex-girlfriend.

➢  pairing: jeon jungkook x female! reader

➢ genre: angst | slight fluff | band au | slight highschool au | post breakup au | exes au | r 15 | guitarist! jungkook | vocalist! reader

➢ word count: 14.6k+

➢  warning: profanity | heavy drinking | toxic relationships | messy break-ups | self depriciation | bullying | messy closure | this is just very much super angsty

➢ love letter: AH SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG T_T I kinda drowned in midterms AHSHSHs but I hope you enjoy this fic <33 there’s more to this angsty collection to come so stay tuned!! 

navigation | collection masterlist

Life couldn’t be any better. 

This is what Jeon Jungkook constantly told himself every morning after his short, fifteen-minute shower while messily tousling his hair in an extra-soft towel as he takes in the dreary yet somehow vibrant view from his penthouse apartment, soaking in the sun’s rays. 

Keep reading

so it goes

summary: finishing school to become a third grade teacher, you find that it's a little intimidating when you're the newest one there. what happens when you find out on the first day that you're actually not the only new third grade teacher.

pairing: art teacher!jk x third grade teacher!reader (or oc). oc is (23) and jungkook is (25).

warnings: fluff, inaccurate school portrayal, perhaps some swearing (more warnings will be added).

so it begins (21.12.8)

more coming soon!

bittersweet (jjk)

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook × Reader

Genre: angst, a pinch of fluff

Summary: An unspoken rule was broken by the two of you- he wasn’t supposed to date and you weren’t supposed to like him.

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: oc and jungkook are a little mean to each other, jungkook is mean, cheating kind of, they kiss, mentions of smut, a few f bombs, jungkook accidentally hurts oc, irregular relationship like a terrible relationship, fwb but not entirely idk lol I think that is all.

Note: hello lol this is not a lovefool update and this is totally unplanned, I guess I was inspired enough to finish this in an hour and oh well I hope you still like it and let me know what you think and yeah thank you very, very much for sticking by <3 I'll probably change the cover later

“Sooo…” “So?” “Well, what do you think?” “What do I think about…” “Arin,” “Arin, right. Well… I don’t,” “You don’t?” “I don’t think about Arin,” “Y/N, you know what I meant,” “Were we even in the same room just now?” “What do you mean?” “What do you think I mean? I- we, she wasn’t even interested in me. She kept whisking you away to her little- your new group of friends. I simply don’t know enough to form an opinion of her,” “Y/N, right, you never have opinions about people because you’re so non-judgmental,” he cackled. His words dripped of sarcasm. “I don’t appreciate your tone, Jungkook,” you frowned. “I really don’t know her enough. I didn’t even know you were talking to her in that way,” “Y/N, I can literally feel your animosity, you were glaring at her. I don’t understand if it’s because I didn’t tell you about my girlfriend or if you have an actual reason to not like her.” Not like her? “I never said that. Don’t put words in my mouth. I really don’t like the direction this conversation is heading towards,” “I don’t either,” “Let me finish, JK-” you snapped. “All I know is, you- it’s like, I was invited to this weird and uncomfortable club by YOU out of nowhere and, God, I- it’s so random because you didn’t reply to my DMs and texts for, I don’t know, two- or was it three weeks?” “Angel,” “And now you have that thing you call your girlfriend stuck to you twenty-three hours a day.” His face drops at that. You can’t decipher his expressions. You don’t care if that upset him, though.

An unspoken rule was broken by the two of you- he wasn’t supposed to date and you weren’t supposed to like him. This was his cowardly way of ending whatever it is that the two of you had going on.

Your heart won’t stop racing, it’s just an… adrenaline rush? You cannot stand quarrels; you also can’t quite categorize this as a quarrel because Jungkook seems be empathizing with you (for now).

You’re a very important member of your university’s newly formed debate club so you know you can handle conflicts and people disagreeing with you but it’s a whole different situation when your emotions are tied in with the subject.

You didn’t realize you had paused. There were way too many thoughts and emotions going through your mind at once and for the first time, you were speechless, totally unable to form sentences that made sense. All you could think was ‘tired’, ‘sleep’, ‘Arin’, ‘girlfriend’, ‘Y/N’ ‘friend?’ ‘irrelevant’.

“Y/N? I- should I just come back later? I can just come by your apartment tomorrow when you’re…” you can see Jungkook’s lips moving but you don’t can’t register what he’s saying. At that point, you snapped out of your daze.

“No,” “No?” “No, I don’t want to continue this conversation. Not now, not tomorrow, not the day after, maybe after a week or two but not now,” “Angel, I respect your wishes but if we delay this, it’s most likely to blow over and affect both of us a lot more.”

Affect him? In what way? You felt like this was just another task for him to get done with already so he wouldn’t have to be bothered later and would be able to cherish his time with Arin without any guilt.

“I think you’re wrong, no, I KNOW you’re wrong. I don’t think I want to even – and don’t call me angel, we obviously had very different ideas in mind when I flashed you my tits and sucked your cock almost every day for a month.” He blushed at the mention of your vile activities, “Y/N, that is not fair. I told you I wasn’t looking for anything serious. You agreed to it!” “Then why would you want to date her? Is this a way for you to climb up the social ladder or something? Oh, the perfect pair, of course, she’s the one who managed to tame the Jeon Jungkook,” “Oh, c’mon, Y/N, do better.” Jungkook sighs and looks around to check if your altercation had caught any nosy passerby’s attention.

He was a little disappointed in you. It’s not like he was absolutely clueless about your reaction. He just didn’t expect you to actually speak your mind and that too, in the manner that you did. You’re a great person in general, you are kind and people actually like talking to you and being around you. You’re smart and not in an obnoxious way, you don’t belittle people.

This is why he was shocked to hear you speak that way about him. But, at least you did it to his face. Jungkook knows you said it out of spite but it still hurt him. It wasn’t like Jungkook was known to carelessly sleep around or just hump and dump people, he just had this reputation of never wanting to commit to one person at a time.

You yourself were a little flustered by your little outburst. You gulped, “I really don’t want to say anything more that might offend you,” “I’m not offended, Y/N. You know that I don’t control my feelings, I chose to date Arin because I likeher a little more than I thought-” “Jungkook, I don’t CARE,” you stared right into his eyes, with quavering lips, “You should’ve told me.”

His eyes widen, “I was just trying to tell you but you,” “You weren’t, though. You asked me what I thought of your new girlfriend, you did not care enough to tell me you liked someone else while we were together and-” “But, we weren’t together,” “You know what I meant by that, JK. I feel like you only want reactions out of me, do you even consider me as a friend to you?” “You know I do, angel,” “I don’t, actually. But okay, as a friend and a person you were screwing, I think I deserved to know about Arin,” “Y/N, it’s not like I cheated on you OR her,” “You ignored me for weeks and it hurt me. Friends don’t do that. You never saw me as your friend, you never valued me as anything more than a place to put your dick in, this is what I take away from your behaviour towards me,” you released a deep breath.

Your skirt was too short and the material of your top was too thin for this weather. The scarf donned over your shoulders wasn’t enough to keep you from shivering and your pantyhose and Mary Janes did nothing for you. It’s the middle of the night and it’s around five degrees outside, where the two of you stood, in the alley next to your apartment building.

You’ll probably be reminded of this dumb conversation every time you cross the area.

After a really long break, Jungkook seems to have understood your perspective. “Y/N, I really do care about you. I’m sorry for the way I handled this, I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to lose your trust,” he wrapped his arm around you and put his free hand on your head, patting you. You immediately gave in. Hey, it was a cold night alright.

You don’t like the way you almost believe and forgive him. You both knew you deserved a way better apology and explanation than that. There was just too much that Jungkook hadn’t thought of and considered. He felt helpless when he sees you on the verge of tears, he wasn’t prepared enough to handle this. He really does care about you but he’s just a little confused.

You hate him for this. It’s bittersweet, you don’t really know if he cares like he says he does. It’s just hard to believe him after this. You knew he was right but he’s wrong too.

All of this could’ve been resolved had he communicated with you better. I mean, sure, you still would’ve been jealous of Arin but at least you could learn to accept and respect them better.

If you were a bad person, you’d go to Arin and snitch on her boyfriend. But you pride yourself in being humble and respectful. Also, you don’t know how she’d respond to that and how that’d change your image so it’s safer to suffer in silence and move on. It all sounds unnecessary and dramatic now. If it wasn’t apparent all this time, you were in love with Jungkook.

You began your little fling knowing very well what the basis of your relationship was. Jeon Jungkook wasn’t boyfriend material. But he was. Just not the way you’d want. He didn’t want labels with you or anyone else before Arin. You think your anger is valid and a very rational reaction because to pretend it doesn’t matter to or affect you would be stupid.

Jungkook sways your bodies like a pendulum, but like, and upside-down pendulum? You know, like those inverted pendulums. It felt good to be held. He liked holding you but didn’t recognize it as anything real because who doesn’t like to hold pretty girls?

“JK?” you whimper and he froze a little. He hated that he made you cry, he didn’t enjoy hurting you. “Mhm,” “Don’t call me for a while,” “Can I text you?” “I don’t want you to contact me for a while, I need to be away from you.” You really did not but being around him meant seeing him with Arin and you aren’t ready for it yet. You wished he would ignore your request and keep texting you. “For how long?” “A while.” It broke your heart a little bit more when he seemed to have no problem with it. You pull back and stare up at him, “Can you kiss me one last time before you leave?”

He looked taken aback by your words. Does he want to kiss you? Wouldn’t that be cheating on Arin? Why would you ask for this? He can’t say ‘no’ to you, not when you look so fragile and desperate. He’s so tempted. Arin wouldn’t even know unless you tell her. Would you tell her?

Jungkook leaned into you. Your eyes were filled to the brim with tears. He tucked a lock of hair behind your ear, making you tremble. You did not initiate anything, you simply… looked at him. And, he gave in. It wasn’t a peck; it was a kiss.

Your lips were just as soft as he remembered, maybe even softer today. He’s hyperaware of your presence now. He’s kissing you. You exist in his life. It’s just you but then at the same time it’s you. His tongue accidentally brushed against your lips and you opened your little mouth, welcoming him. Your arms were tightly wrapped around his shoulders, under his jacket while he held the corners of his jacket and forcefully pulls you closer to his own warm body with it. You’re all tingly on the inside.

You’re salivating. Jungkook had forgotten how intense and slobbery your kisses could get and how much he craved for them. Your leg entangles itself with his and you arch your back, pulling him as you bend backwards.

Your hand slithers up his neck to tug on his hair. He can’t help but moan at the feeling of you pressed against him, your fingers touching his skin with your tongue in his mouth and your teeth clashing, noses bumping. He needed to stop at this point. “Mmhp,” “Wait, stop.”

When you didn’t listen, he grabs your waist and aggressively pulls you away from him. The sudden force makes your back hit the cream, limestone wall, you’re stunned. “Jungkook, fuck, what the fuck is wrong with you- that HURT,” “I’m- I’m sorry, wait let me,” he reached out to you, grabbed your arm and hastily rubbed your back with his other hand.

At this point, you just needed to get away from him. You wanted him to tell you he didn’t want you to your face rather than indirectly implying it. You’re both breathing heavy. Jungkook has your lipstick smudged on his mouth and chin. You can’t look him in the eye anymore and you’re embarrassed by your actions.

“Go back in, angel,” “Y/N.” you’re so confused by him. Does he want you or not? “Y/N. Get inside, you’re going to get sick.”

You stared at his feet. “Bye, Jungkook.”

“I’ll see you… whenever you’re ready, Y/N.”

“Jungkook,”

“Mhm,”

“I love you.”

“I know, Y/N.”

You nodded. “I love you too,” “Oh, go back to your fucking girlfriend already.” And with that you stormed off back inside the gates of your apartment complex.

Jungkook hung out outside your gate for a few minutes to take everything in before he returned to his girlfriend’s dormitory.