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𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐊𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 (𝐗𝐈)

SERIES ONESHOTS

Ice Prince

Pretty Girl

Pencil Strokes And Paint Splatters

The Human Weapon

SPF 50

Crave You

Beauty And The Beast

Ego

Purr

Muscle Pig

Aren’t We All Sinners?

Soulmates

McDickin

Distraction

No Rest For The Wicked

The Dark Prince

Make It Right

Graceful Gods

Illusion Of Choice

Gamer Boy

Kaiho

Sucker Puncher

Blueberry Haze

Love Is Blind

Inked

Primed For Sin

Courage

Symphony

My Favourite Gamer

Caught Inbetweeen

90s American Superstar

Roommates

TMPM

Daddy Daycare ⇢ JJK

─ “series” masterlist

→ series summary — first comes love, then comes marriage, then comes… a buff, pierced, and tattooed dilf buying a baby carriage?

➵ pairing — Jeon Jungkook x f!reader

➵ Genre — established relationship, lots of fluff, lovebirds with a baby? occasional smut, dilf!jk, milf!reader.

➵ note — Okay wait…. So hear me out, hear me out… I know I have other stuff to write…. but I just couldn’t help myself… also do not criticize me for that summary! I’ll make a better one later…

Taglist : open!

﹁ Chapter One ﹂

➝ Baby Fever

“You know, making a baby wouldn’t be too bad of an idea… right?”

➝ For Safe Measures

“I feel like we should go again… just to be sure…”

➝ Dinner For Three

“So does this mean I can call you prego now?”

lq jungkook.

like if u save.

jeon jungkook being perfect was a fact you could vouch for; up until he appeared to church without his dear fiancée and his chocolate coloured eyes that delineated so much kindness. the question is—why is it just you noticing his sinister differences?

pairing : jungkook x you (as jia). au(s) : vampire!jungkook, forced roommate!jungkook. genres : dark romance, mutual pining, slowburn, angst, innuendos of suggestive themes.

content : you tear down jungkook’s fake front of being the most generous soul without knowing he’s an attractive yet menacing curse who lived for way too long. on days you want him to vanish, you sway at his sickly charms—and so does he.

your relationship with jungkook tied into a playlist.

next chapter. chapter directory. masterlist.

chapter one.

word count : 4,6k.

“do you know of the man that lived here?”

here, the woods surround trees that must have been long forgotten before this investigation. brutal winds destroyed all nature’s roots, and no single soul can underestimate the darkness that could be held within. it’s the obnoxious flashlights at this time of night that’s disrupting the normalcy of this forest, but apart from that, nothing would.

this place is so dark—to the point it’s terrifying when you observe closely, but why is it only now you realise this? how come you didn’t recognise the fear behind the cover earlier, especially when you’ve been here… countless times?

“let me change the question,” the policeman continues to interrogate sternly, “how did you find this place?”

with a shaky breath stuck on your throat, you squeeze your eyes shut to collect yourself. in this moment for you too, it’s dark—exactly like the outside world—the place jeon jungkook used to shield you from.

“please cooperate with our investigation.”

“i—” you suddenly stop the second you feel a harsh thrashing in your chest. as if your heart is struggling for survival, knocking against your ribcage without knowing how much damage and havoc it’s causing, it slowly burns you, and the pain starts to radiate from your chest to the bottom of your feet—like you’re rooted to a pool of lava.

“call the ambulance!” the policeman’s voice is faint now, like it’s further in the distance.

then, a deafening ringing finds your ear, suppressing all noise outside. the high pitched noise living in your ear draws nearer, and when it does, the sound becomes more unbearable as the decibel gradually climbs uncontrollably. 

it hurts.

it hurts like crazy.

your ears are on the verge of bursting while there’s a burning pain blossoming in your chest that’s spreading all across your body like poison.

what is this?

what’s happening?

why now?

with eyes at rest, you hear an unexpected gift—fine rain dropping down silvery and small, pattering against the dirt as umbrellas snap shut in the background of nature. petrichor—the perfume made of rain and the earth flourishes in the air, so you inhale through your nose and relax the muscles in your hands.

“jia!” 

you turn your head at the voice that bent your reality in half. the picture your eyes grasp is an old childhood friend of yours, waving frantically in front of the gated cathedral. much time hasn’t passed since you exited from today’s mass, but as for your friend, he just happened to walk out now—in which you assume that he’s the last one out this afternoon.

“hey!” jimin exclaims, brushing through his hair instinctively as he comes. his hair was blonde last week, but today, it’s dark as ever. he does tend to shine the most in his natural colour. “you tossed those crutches away pretty quickly.” 

“i never wanted them to begin with.”

“at least tell me you’re not actually dismissing medical advice.”

“i’m not.”

“are you sure?”

“i’m sure!”

“how sure?”

“what am i, a problem child?” you shake your head as you wiggle your right ankle for a show. the bandage clinging against your ankle loosens once again, but you’ve dealt with it enough to possibly care for it immediately.  “i want to live peacefully and kindly. to do that, i should take care of myself.”

“wait a minute,” jimin dramatically covers his mouth. “you’re actually capable of having such thoughts?”

“thanks to my beautiful mother and father, i’ve been taught many good things.” with your lips firmly pursed, you nod at least five times in fast forward.

“and pat your own shoulder for teaching yourself to hang tight.” jimin suddenly becomes serious, seeing his eyes soften as he inhales a slow breath. “i was worried to death when this all happened to you.”

“just a reminder for you, my friend—this is a minor injury.” you mumble, “i’m sure you know that as a dancer yourself—that this is totally normal.”

“this isn’t your first time, jia.” jimin articulates. “the problem is that it’s recurring.”

“if that was really a huge problem, i would be more worried than you right now.” you coo while leaning forward, arms behind your back. “think about it, jimin.”

“you’re not the reliable, trustworthy type.” jimin quips. “how unlucky for you.” he steals the chance to flick you on the forehead, in which you immediately wince, bouncing back at the pain. “that’s for you to pay extra attention to yourself!” he warns playfully. 

before you can smile and reassure your beloved friend that it’s truly normal to break down sometimes, you suddenly feel a crisp wind harshly slice your bare skin, naturally causing you to swallow the words you had in mind. 

soon, the sky snaps into a heavier torrent of rain. blue is nowhere to be seen, only dull greyness painted across the heavens. each drop crackles; smacking down onto soil and concrete. the outside looks like it’ll drench you within seconds, especially after seeing that the downpour has no pause.

“did you hear that jeon jungkook funded the church with a generous amount again today?” unbothered by god’s work as she seems, mrs. na gossips loudly to the crowd.

“that young man sure does give out a lot of money.”

“i heard that he owns properties!”

“i heard he’s born in a very rich family.” one woman gasps exaggeratedly, slapping the shoulder of the other lady in her forties who’s also invested in this effusive debate.

“with that young brain of his, he’s probably making good investments unlike my husband wasting all of his money!” 

“his fiancée is also rich!” mrs. kim exclaims obliviously. “that explains why they’re considering marriage at such a young age!”

you and jimin eye each other telepathically. he raises an eyebrow of his and you simply shrug your shoulders wordlessly since there’s only room for one conversation. however, feeling randomly magnetised, you and jimin remain still in your places to listen in on details—because even to the younger audience, jeon jungkook is a bit of a paradox.

though not completely debunked, you’ve heard that jeon jungkook crazily wealthy at the pretty age of 25. it’s no doubt he owns a few properties, but no one dares to ask if all that’s inherited or if it’s from meticulous calculations manufactured inside his head.

“the marriage is purely driven by my affection towards her.” just by hearing his deep, breathy voice, you could tell with eyes closed and back turned that he’s chuckling at the rather stereotypical emphasis.

“oh, jungkook!” mrs. kim exclaims enthusiastically yet awkwardly. she’s been caught in the act, but by a person who still smiles at her despite all the talking she’s done. “how is everything going for you?”

you see jungkook nodding beside his fiancée—nakamura kazuha. “great.” he peers down, smiling warmly at the eyes shot towards his existence. “only a shame since there’s never enough time to thank each and one of you.”

“goodness!” mrs. kim blooms into a loud laughter as she slaps the woman beside her in excitement. “how did your parents raise you so well!” she exclaims, openly eyeing the lady who has her arm linked with hers. 

“i wonder!” the lady next to mrs. kim—mrs. gu, also mimics her laughter as if commanded. “are your parents living in korea?”

“not at the moment.” jungkook says. “they live somewhere else since they dislike our winter.”

“is that so?” another lady—a name you totally forgot, casually chirps into the conversation.

“and… hm?” jungkook leans his ear closer to kazuha’s lips to listen to her closely. he’s trying to finish the sentence for her as it seemed to be relevant to his story about his parents. “right, they also did say they prefer food outside of korea.” he smiles differently at the detail she remembered—you could tell that smile is exclusive for his lover, judging by how corny it is. 

“you two are like newlyweds.” mrs. gu chuckles heartily. “did you say that kazuha is a ballerina?”

at mrs. gu’s last word, you feel jimin’s gaze plastered onto you. it’s not like her words were particularly laced with honey and glaze, but to you—especially—is unfortunately a soft trigger.

“is she?” mrs. kim gasps loudly like a cog clicked in her head. “our lovely jia is also a ballerina!” she turns her head in hopes of searching for someone that definitely looks like… you. “jia, sweetheart, come over here!”

heat crawls up into your body the moment you feel gazes piercing into you like arrows. a breath of nervousness was at the tip of your tongue until jimin shoves you airily, encouraging you to take a leap out of your sustained introverted personality.

“mrs. kim,” you smile helplessly at the unwanted attention in your spot. honestly, you feel even worse about it because you know how eager everyone was to hear more about jeon jungkook and his prosperities under magnification.

“come introduce yourself!” mrs. kim gestures to you to approach.

“mrs. kim!” you answer joyously like you were summoned out of absolutely nowhere. in fact, you decide to forget that you were eavesdropping this entire time with your childhood best friend. “how can i help?” you act obliviously the second you join their open, incomplete circle of people. you stand tall while subconsciously tensing your weaker ankle—at least in here, you desperately didn’t want to stumble over yourself.

jungkook offers his hand out to you. “forgive my lateness, but it really is a pleasure to meet you.” he breathes out, “my name is jungkook.”

this guy is outrightly handsome, almost prince-like with his soft, wavy strands framing his face. it’s either he takes style as one of his valuable coins or he’s dressed fittingly for the environment because his hair is sculpted, which can only be created with meticulous effort. the middle of his forehead is visible unlike jimin’s, but his hair falls in a much more intentional way with obvious complexity. his masculinity is preserved, if not, it’s actually enhanced. aside from that, most of his features are round, which should naturally attract smiles, but he’s still inevitably intimidating—like every prince in a fairytale. his choice of a pale blue button up shirt interests you further, simply because the guys you’ve run into so far would prefer monochromatic pieces. park jimin, for instance, would refuse to stand near such a gentle and graceful colour.

“not late at all.” you smile coolly as you take his hand. however, momentarily, you pause—you’re aware that you should be shaking his hand as per etiquette, but it was almost impossible to dismiss his cold temperature. your poker face is a massive failure alone anyway. 

“jia,” jungkook murmuring his thoughts loudly to himself hangs you off guard. not only did he ask for your name, but it’s the entracing way his voice suddenly dipped so low to roll your name off his tongue.

anyway.

“and kazuha,” you try your best to pronounce her name decently. “it’s nice to meet you.” 

“me too.” kazuha replies concisely in an accent. then, she quickly retreats to whisper to jungkook in japanese. kazuha mentions ballet as she looks fixedly onto you.

“kazuha says she’s a fan.” jungkook says. “i hear your achievements in the world of ballet are extremely impressive, especially since it hasn’t been long since you started dancing. am i on the right track, miss prodigy?”

flustered, your hands are the first to act—you wave both hands frantically, dismissing all bluff about achievements and prodigies. “i didn’t think you could be this dramatic.” you shake your head like you’ve been fooled. “but really, you’re exaggerating! it’s not much, i’ve still got a journey ahead.”

“being a principal ballerina with a handful of wins is news.”

“and contributing to the church with such a generous amount of money isn’t?”

“well,” he clicks his tongue in revelation before breaking into a grin; his eyes squeeze shut in a rather cute way. “a skilled performer like yourself should know the spotlight isn’t something to share.”

“she’s a cheeky girl.” mrs. na divulges with the intent of being sentimental. from what you recall, mrs. na has been a close friend of your parents for countless years. your six-year-old memories tell you so.

“that’s definitely another name added to the list for her.” jungkook jests, and the friendly, middle-aged bystanders all chuckle at his wit. not to mention, you’re quite pleased with his demeanour as well—and it’s literally only been a few minutes.

“if i could choose, please keep in mind i’d much prefer the latter.” you backtrack with a series of unserious coughing. 

jungkook reciprocates your limited humour with a handsome smile. “i’ll be sure to send my greetings when kazuha and i see you around next weekend.”

“same goes for me.” you return the profound smile, genuinely pleased with your interaction with the infamous couple. it almost makes you think the world is unfair since they really did happen to be quite perfect as imagined by others.

“are you two heading off now?” mrs. kim asks.

“only because we might crash into our booking if we leave any later.” jungkook replies politely. you can see that he doesn’t like to leave any room for misunderstandings. 

“just be careful out there, the rain is still heavy.” mrs. na advises sweetly. “the road will be slippery.”

“i’ll keep an extra eye out.”

“that reminds me,” mrs. na looks at you whilst wearing a worried guise. her eyebrows are furrowed and both corners of her lips have sunk—you find her endearing because she never fails to be readable. “do you have a way home, jia?”

right.

about that.

you’re a fascinating human being for not thinking about your way back home after witnessing how fierce and deranged the weather is as of this moment. even right now, it’s still an uncanny flurry and battle of the wind and the rain. speak about dark, and today would be the finest example for the science and art of meteorology. 

“isn’t your car still under repair?” 

“until tomorrow!” you squeak optimistically; rather unfitting for this ambience. the adults all retain gazes brimmed with concern while the weather is insensibly loud. “jimin is waiting around somewhere, we’ll leave together when the rain settles.” you propose a lie constructed on the spot.

“jimin left not too long ago!” mrs. kim waves her finger to the car park. “you should’ve seen him accelerate out of this rain like a simpleton.” 

gritting your teeth behind a forced smile, you sigh short and heavily to yourself. you know this guy busted out of here because he’s itching to dance for his next competition. lucky for him, since his house is nearby. you decide to think about how to repay your best friend with a taste of revenge maybe a bit after you deal with this old-fashioned situation everyone at least finds themselves entwined at least once or twice in their lives.

“did he?” you chuckle nervously. “i recently found this application on my phone and it finds a taxi for you in minutes—no, seconds!”

“where are you headed?” jungkook tilts his head in curiosity. “the restaurant we’re headed to is further away, so i’d say there is a chance we’d pass by your suburb.”

“oh my, how good!” mrs. na exclaims, now clapping at ease. “would you do that—”

“i don’t know,” you widen your eyes at mrs. na, hoping she gets the message you’re desperately trying to send her. “how big of a chance would that be?” your question is for jungkook, but your dilated eyes are still openly aimed at mrs. na.

“potentially quite big, i think!” mrs. na clasps her hands against yours; her warmth consuming you as whole. “she lives in gangnam, somewhere next to station exit 9.”

“come with us,” jungkook suggests. “we’re going past gangnam.”

“if it’s too much trouble—”

“it’ll reassure us too.” jungkook insists determinedly. “shall we?” he cocks his chin towards the roofed car park and nods to comfort you once more for the long run.

without much going on in this car full of acquaintances, it’s predestined that the silence within provokes focus onto the thoughts clouding your mind. truth be told, it’s not the relapse jimin mentioned that’s submerging your head with negativity. 

it’s all about your coach who reached out yesterday. 

utter anticipation possessed her voice when she asked if you were recovering under the safest conditions. strangely, you felt desperate to enlighten her about your progress; your heart clenched a lie and called it a miracle when you spoke optimistically about your recovery rate. you delivered false hopes, simply because you discovered a new fear to not shatter the illusions for this person you look up to.

consequently, you agreed to compete in europe in a few months time—and you knew, deep within—that this would be your last time.

“is something bothering you?” 

you get startled by the sweetness of his voice, “it’s nothing.” 

“is that a habit?”

“what is?”

“nothing.” jungkook repeats softly after you. perhaps he finds it amusing he picked up on a detail so quickly, a grin naturally fixes his still lips. “you said it once earlier.”

“maybe.” a chuckle leaves your mouth after some thought. 

“do you live alone?” he asks nonchalantly when he makes a smooth left turn with one hand of his. he becomes alert of his fiancée dozing off peacefully in the passenger’s seat when she sways faintly at his movement. “i have a feeling you do.” he guesses afterward.

“what makes you think that?” humming, you narrow your eyes into the front view mirror. jungkook has been peering up into the mirror whenever he exchanges words with you. “do i look too miserable heading back home?” 

“it’s not that, but i was hoping someone at home would distract you from those thoughts of yours.”

you smile to yourself. “is that how i have to start thinking in order to be so successful?” 

“you’re great as you are.”

“nowhere prince-like though, so i’m not too sure.”

“is that your attempt to tease?” as expected, jungkook flicks his eyes upward, causing both of your eyes to meet. like yours, hints of mischievousness hide behind his eyes too.

“it’s a misunderstanding,” you pronounce each word in a whisper, “your highness.”

“i beg to differ.” 

you stifle a chuckle as you watch raindrops rolling down the window beside your visage. you absentmindedly let your fingertips chase each droplet running down the glass until your eyes accidentally make eye contact with jungkook in the front view mirror again, except in complete silence. when you roll your eyes over in hopes of escaping his eyes, jungkook triggers the blinker and makes another turn.

“so,” you clear your throat as if nothing ever happened. “how did you meet kazuha?” tapping your fingertip against your thigh instead of the window now, you slant forward, glancing over at the sleeping beauty in the passenger’s seat in envy.

one corner of jungkook’s lips curls upward. “on the day she came to visit korea for the first time all by herself, she was asking for directions when she was already there. she asked where this café was when she happened to walk past it twice.” taking his eyes off the road for a few seconds, he turns to kazuha next to him. “i knew after directing her, she’d be on my mind for the rest of the day, like wondering if she made it back home, or if she found a place to eat dinner.” 

“i knew you were the one to approach her first.” you murmur while rolling your eyes to the side with the clear intent of avoiding jungkook’s eyes.

jungkook elicits a breathy laughter. “please don’t forget that i’m the person steering this wheel.”

you bob your head amusedly. “of course.”

“how about you?” jungkook inquires when he begins to press on the brake gradually. the car drifts to a stop, and you only notice now that you’re in the vicinity of your neighbourhood. “do you have someone special to you?” by pressing his elbow against the armrest between the two seats in front, he’s able to turn his head to watch you out.

“not someone, but something.” you remark confidently. “thank you for the ride, i really appreciate it.” hands already hovering above the car handle, you lower your head to a considerable degree to express your gratitude towards him first.

“we’re glad to help.” jungkook smirks ambiguously. something about his grin this time makes your head tilt, but you have no idea why. “stay away from the cold and get home safe.”

the weekend, and now the weekday—monday. the world is back and running again. in the bustling city of seoul, there are adults scurrying to meet the standards of unsparing office hours, teenagers stopping by at the convenience store before taking the next bus to school, mothers accompanying their children to daycare for the sake of themselves making it to their workplace as well; whether it’s at a mundane office crowded with malicious or cordial co-workers, a repetitive hospital cascading with pessimism—and needless to say, other imaginable work environments.

you avert your eyes back onto the road, feeling as though you’ve been staring for longer than anticipated. the red light flickers off as your attention returns, and you swiftly make a turn into a campus you’re familiar with.

established in the backstreets of nowon-gu, there hides a compact yet modern university funded by prosperous graduates of the school. the newly revamped design of the building was developed by one of the aforementioned students. its exterior—seems to be highly inspired by ancient greek. a single glance, and there’s gigantic pillars in arrays, marble stones smelted in the ground and walls. however, its interior—is the definition of futurism. fitted with this era’s advanced technology and stylish furniture bestowing the lecture halls and libraries, it’s undoubtedly a desirable look anywhere.

the business you have here is simply for the dance studio, since you did sign up for your own downfall whilst blatantly ignoring the rehabilitation period of your ankle that acts as your lifeline in this career. but—behold, on the more colourful side, you think your ankle feels even better today; alleviated from tension, you’ve been stepping on the brake and accelerator marvellously today. pretty much most of its function is back.

(you’re not gaslighting yourself.)

“alright,” cheeks puffed, you blow out some air in nervousness. upon parking your car in the corner, you carefully exit the car by planting both feet simultaneously onto the ground. you almost hop out to ensure that your weight doesn’t collapse against one side. “see, see, see!”

(and this is you being overly dramatic.)

just like that, you follow your usual route to the dance studio. as your eyes capture nature kissed by the sun today, you realise the heavy rain completely subsided. it’s as if nothing ever happened and it was an abrupt outroar from the heavens—in which, you can totally relate to. god wasn’t the only person going through absurdity yesterday.

tossing your annoying long hair behind your shoulder, you take your time admiring the landscape of youth. if you witnessed busy and distressed adults working in black and white earlier in the morning—at this time, you see lively students marching to their first lecture of the day. some are alone, unbothered while mouthing to their favourite music; some are cracking up into shrieking laughter at one another’s jokes related to their incidents during the weekend; some are couples making a fuss about how cute they are in the second hour into their awakening. 

and… there’s someone awfully distinct out in the distance.

a taller, broader and sturdier build—a man—of course, people like that do unfortunately captivate you occasionally but you could swear on everything you have—he’s someone you’ve seen.

who? 

there’s something about him that screams at you—like the fact that he’s not passing off as a student… or a professor. he’s dressed too finely for a student, and he’s too young to be a professor. 

in his teal silk shirt free of creases tucked under his black jeans, the man whips around to make one decisive turn to your right—and in that moment, too much starts to compute into your head. if your mind could make noises, it’d all be static.

to the right is a conference hall—one of the biggest, and is usually used by students studying anatomy. from what you remember, it has the projector updated with the latest resolution to help identify details in the human body. 

and his side profile tells all—his appearance isn’t easy to forget, but also, it’s only been a day since you’ve seen him. your memory is fresh as ever.

how?

did he move here recently? 

when did he start coming to church again?

it’s been less than two months, and to organise everything—does it take around two months to find a job? is he even working here? what if he’s just a visitor?

why does all of that matter to you?

shaking your head in denial, an anxious chuckle leaks out of your mouth. “come on,” you babble mindlessly to yourself. “he drove you home in the rain, so you can literally buy the guy a coffee to repay him.”

hold on.

where the hell did he go?

you don’t remember lifting your gaze. even if that was the case, you’re isolated—you’re in a position where you can discern all, only because the dance studio is on the polar opposite of all lecture halls.

you huff, “is he a vampire or what—” 

“what a lovely morning, jia.”

what… in the world?

there it is—that feeling; it’s the exact feeling you felt when he dropped you off yesterday. his words sink into you like needles, and you’re completely aware of how peculiar this is. all you can think of is that grin existing with the complete switch up in his voice.

mystified, you slowly turn around to meet his eyes. you acquire a dim glimpse of a few piercings on his ear that you didn’t notice yesterday. it wouldn’t seem as suspicious to you if they were ordinary piercings the pretty celebrities get, but his are a little avant-garde; a visual heavy street wearers would be entertained by—you don’t know why such a thorough analysis feels necessary whenever you see him, but it comes so naturally.

interestingly, that’s the only change too—the piercings.

just that.

“jungkook,” you smile indifferently. “i’m really surprised to catch you here.”

“likewise.”

“i assume you work here?”

“today’s my first day.” jungkook says—and just that. 

“as a… professor?” you guess the odds nonetheless, simply because nothing else connects the dots. you’re still certain he’s not here as a student.

“not exactly.” jungkook hasn’t smiled. “i’ve been assigned to opening anatomical lectures for those who were absent, missed out, or needed additional teaching.”

everything is out of place.

your suspicion starts to feel real because he’s unquestionably acting out of character as well. the jeon jungkook you—no, everyone else knows—wouldn’t be permitting silence to consume the air this easily, at least not without questions that make it seem like he’s genuinely amused. because, in reality, you thought he was a smart guy who’s aware of the value behind open-ended relationships.

“always trust your instinct.” the senior police officer advised softly. she was smiling in kindness like she always has—eyes crinkled into shapes of endearing crescent moons, soft wrinkles grooved into her cheeks with a short, cute smile made by her imperfectly painted red lip.

“you’re full of surprises, jungkook.”

“you’ve just run out of attempts to tease.”

what a plot twist you were.

comfort fics || jjk

-> this is a growing list of comfort fics with Jungkook that I would like to save. more to be added. a massive thank you to the wonderful authors who put in time and effort and love into these fics. I hope others who find this list can be comforted as well <3

this list includes my personal comfort fics and those submitted by moots and followers. to the authors on this list, your fic is included because someone somewhere was comforted reading it. your story had an impact and they remembered it out of thousands of stories. thank you for writing.

comfort fics mlist

Under 1K

Haven @btsbling | stress comfort, anxiety comfort, fluff, under 1K

So it begins @muniimyg | domestic comfort, fluff, under 1K

Home @taegisms | domestic comfort, fluff, under 1K

Darkness @allora1233 | storm comfort, domestic comfort, fluff, under 1K

Sorry I motorboated you @sunshinerainbowsbts | relationship comfort, fluff, under 1K

One shots

My Girl @btssaysstudy | relationship comfort, school comfort, fluff, angst, no wc

Only Love @koostarcandy | domestic comfort, fluff, 1K

Favorite @koostarcandy | relationship comfort, fluff, 1.1K

“Keep it, it looks better on you anyway” @mintelepathy | domestic comfort, relationship comfort, fluff, 1.2K (part 2)

Anxious @borathae | anxiety comfort, fluff, 1.3K

That's my baby @gimmethatagustd | body image comfort, fluff, 1.4K

You can lean on me, you can always lean on me @onlyswan | stress comfort, fluff, 1.6K

Heaven to myself @reliablemitten | relationship comfort, smut, 1.6K

Race me to happiness @kooksbunnnn | domestic comfort, fluff, 1.7K

The one you need @sxtaep | break up comfort, domestic comfort, smut, 2K

ilym @parkdatjimin | relationship anxiety comfort, fluff, 2K

Rely on me @jaminjims | stress comfort, fluff, angst, 2.2K

Flowerboy @borathae | domestic comfort, fluff, smut, 2.6K

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to err is to love part 2 preview

synopsis: after sharing a salacious kiss with your ex-husband (at your kids' super mario birthday party), you decide to establish boundaries.

word count: 1.6k

pairing: dilf!jk /ex husband!jk / ceo!jk x afab reader

read part 1 here

"So you want me to pretend like it didn't happen?"

Your ex husband finally arrives home- his disheveled nature indicative of an exhausting day at work probably filled with tedious meetings and unexciting paperwork. He looks like he got the soul sucked right out of his body. His tie is loose around his neck, his hair is swept back sloppily, dark circles prominent, and there's a very obvious annoyed grimace hazed on his handsome face. 

It’s not like you enjoy contributing to his stress, but right now you have to draw the red line and establish boundaries. You hate the way your heart flutters at his mere presence- even when stressed out of his mind. You rip your eyes away from him so the notion departs from your mind;acknowledging your thoughts means accepting- or even embracing your feelings for him, and that’s just something you can’t do. 

After practically pouncing on him and salaciously shoving your tongue into his mouth after your children's Super Mario birthday party, you abruptly jolted from your sleep with regret plaguing your system. Instncitvely your fingers come up to alleviate the aching pain in your temples whilst you recall how sinful it felt to have his lips against yours. The butterflies threatening to erupt in your stomach irk you, and you despise yourself for craving him like you are right now.

Even when he’s blinking at you incredulously like you’ve cut him deeply- you can’t help but be soft for him. 

“Yes,” you enunciate sternly; the dramatic roll of your eyes effectively masks how you truly feel and it makes his heart ache painfully. “It was entirely inappropriate and I apologize for that- let’s just pretend it never happened.” You mumble pointedly before redirecting your focus back to the soapy bubbly plastic Hello-Kitty dishes piled in the sink.

You brace yourself for a response as hostile as the words you just spewed out. 

Perhaps he perceived the way your body visibly tense because instead of a sarcastic response, he acts opposite of what you’re expected. You hear the soft thud of his briefcase echoing through the room and as a gentle sigh falls from his lips. 

He makes calm strides toward you, placing a hand on top of yours; the soapy bubbles on your hands rub onto his- it even gets on the cuffs of his shirt but it goes unnoticed by him.  He just wants to help out. His other hand takes hold of the sponge as his body softly nudges you to the side. He begins to maneuver the sponge against the dishes, not gracing you with a single word.

Heart aching in your chest, you let out a concerned sigh. "Jungkook you don't have to do that, it's alright-"

"I'm sorry for coming home late tonight,” His soft words are spoken in a hushed tone, as if he’s trying to bring you down from how panicked and aggressive you were previously behaving. "Thank you for making the kids dinner and cleaning up."

"It's my job to do that-"

"I know. But you work so hard. I just want to let you know how grateful I am." His words encapsaulate the tenderness that has been stagnantly stinging his heart- and it sends an explosion of emotions to your stomach. He’s got this hold on you, and you find it unfathomable that he can reillumine the dull flame idly sitting in your heart. 

"Are you mad at me?" you squeak out, fingers brushing a stray strand behind your ear. He releases a soft chuckle, putting the last dish in the drying rack, turning and leaning back against the kitchen counter. He shakes his head to sweep the hair out of his face.

“Not mad, just a little sad,” the casual shrug of his shoulders enkindles a bubble of confusion in your heart. 

Your mouth dries up. You haven’t a clue of how to respond-especially when the situation isn’t combative in the slightest. You suppose that you adapted entirely to toxicity and hostility that you’ve become emotionally disfunctional. You hesitate, gnawing on your bottom lip. “I’m sorry,” is all you’re able to muster up.

He smiles bitterly to himself, his sharp jawline flexing as he looks away from you and at the ceiling. For a split second, you detect a hint of pain on his face, but he masks that by playfully pinching your cheek before swinging his hand back down- further adding to your confusion. “Don’t be sorry- you can’t change how you feel. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” 

Oh.

The response he gave you was exactly what your brain was looking for, but for some reason your heart is left completely dissatisfied. 

He suddenly begins undoing the buttons on his shirt, letting his chest finally breathe after being trapped in the confines of a tight suit all day. This wasn’t unusual for him to do. Jungkook often paraded around the house shirtless. After all, this is his home and he is entitled to comfort and privacy in the space of his own home. Besides, it’s not like you’ve never seen it before.  

Biting your lip, you swat his hands away and begin undoing the buttons for him. Though the action intrinsically seems questionable, you’ve basically been his little wifey when the two of you decided to cohabitat again (for the children). You wash his clothes, make him breakfast, tie his tie for him- the more you think about it the more disfunctional this relationship is. No words were needed- this isn’t intended to be sexual or seductive in the slightest- your love language has always been acts of service and this is how you’ll express your appreciation.

He raises his brows at you. His eyes haze over you like he’s checking you out, but he’s really scrutinizing you and peering right past your facade. And perhaps he’s simultaneously checking you out. He can’t help himself- your smaller frame is adorned in one of his white oversized tees, making you look so soft and wifey. At the same time, he finds it somewhat ridiculous that you’re telling him you don’t want him while you have his damn shirt over your body.

Once you get to the bottom of the shirt, you pout slightly and look up at him. Your eyes are met with dark eyes that peer into your very soul. Black eyesscan over you, pupils are dilated completely, questioning authenticity of your rejection towards him. 

At the same time, he gazes at you with so much desire that it hurts.

 “Please tell me how you really feel,” he whispers.

You break eye contact, snapping the strings of attraction that were pulling you together. “Just don’t want to ruin everything again.” you quietly murmur

He brings his calloused palms to rub his face. He already knows. He sees right through you. He’s known you so long he’s confident he’s familiarized himself with everything about you- knows how your mind processes information, knows the meaning behind every body language. What haunts him the most is that he knows he fucked up his own marriage. As the man of the family he was supposed to hold everything down, and it’s been eating him up that he placed that burden on you.  “I know,” he responds, “It’s my fault- I know I fucked everything up beyond repair. I don’t blame you for feeling that way. The divorce was really hard.” 

It’s the first time he’s ever explicitly said the d word. He places his arms behind his head, his biceps bulging through his shirt and you rip your eyes away. This is not the time to be thirsting over him.

“I wasn’t the best either- so don’t say that. The divorce was hard for you too so let’s not think about that,” you mumble, staring at the photo of your children stuck onto the fridge with a “#1 MOM” magnet. The cute photo of the twins holding up peace signs stablizes you. They are what keeps you going.

He sighs. “But I know you gave it your all to save us- and I didn’t. I know that if I put in more effort we would have made it. I was entitled and arrogant,” he bites his lip like he’s trying to find the right words, “Please let make it up to you.”

His analysis of the situation is somewhat accurate. Though the rockiest part of your marriage was mostly because of carelessness and hostility from both sides- Jungkook was the one who ultimately expelled you from his heart while you desperately towards clung onto hope.

“There’s nothing to be made up- we can’t do this again. Our kids would be heartbroken if mommy and daddy got back together….  just to break up again,” you send him a faux smile with the intention of comforting him, as if your fucking divorce didn’t absolutely crush you. Jungkook’s resolve begins to crack at your mannerisms. He sees right through you, knows when you’re faking shit.

“Is that how you really feel?” 

 A deafening silence washes over the situation. You won’t grace him with a response. No one would ever be able to pry the words out of you.

He speaks up. “I respect that Y/N, but if you ever change your mind, I’ll always be here.”

Your brows furrow deeply at this words, and Jungkook winces at the haze of mortification that appears on your pretty face.

What did he mean by that? Is he implying that he’s going to stay single forever if you don’t want to be with him? That it’s you or nothing? What an impulsive and ridiculous statement. As much as you care for him, he can’t just be saying shit like that to you .

You purse your lips.  “I have a date next weekend."

author's note: guys pls dont hate on yn. shes trying her best and is confused😭