Jungkook Oneshots

Sweeter Than Sin

                 "𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵
                          𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘵𝘩 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘰𝘸." 

The dining table was set just as it always was—neat, orderly, warm. A steaming dish of roasted chicken sat at the center, surrounded by mashed potatoes, buttered rolls, and green beans. The scent of home-cooked food filled the air, comforting and familiar.

Your father sat at the head of the table, hands folded, eyes closed. His presence was always steady—strong but never overbearing.

"Let us bow our heads," he said, his voice firm yet gentle.

You all did. Your mother beside him, your younger sister Jules across from you. You laced your fingers together, feeling the quiet reverence settle over the room.

"Lord, we thank You for this meal before us, for the hands that prepared it, and for the love that surrounds this table. Guide us in Your wisdom, keep us in Your grace, and let our hearts be filled with kindness and understanding. Amen."

"Amen," you all echoed in unison.

The moment of silence passed, replaced by the quiet clatter of silverware against plates. Your mother served Jules first, as she always did, before passing the dish to you. Jules immediately dug in, mumbling something about being starving.

You glanced at your father, watching as he carefully cut into his food, his expression unreadable as always. Lee Hyung Bin. The man who led this town's prayers, the man people turned to for guidance.

To most, he was a figure of wisdom—unshaken, disciplined, devoted. But to you, he was simply your father—the man who tucked you in at night when you were little, who read scripture with a patience that never faltered, who could silence an entire congregation with a single look.

"We are going to church tomorrow," your mother said as she walked into your room, watching you fold your clothes.

"Don't we every day?" you smiled at her, folding the last piece and placing it neatly in the drawer.

"And do you not like that, young lady?" she questioned, her tone sharp, not liking the way you had phrased your words.

"No, no, nothing like that," you quickly corrected. "I simply meant that I already knew we were going tomorrow."

"You've been talking back a lot these days," she noted, eyes narrowing slightly.

"I'm simply saying my opinions," you muttered under your breath.

"Say again?" her voice held an edge, making you shake your head and dismiss the conversation entirely.

"Nothing," you murmured.

"Anyway, pray before bed," she said before walking out of your room, leaving behind an air of control that never seemed to waver.

Your mother wasn't the typical sweet, nurturing type. She was fine, but she liked to have everything in control. You could even say she had an old-fashioned mindset.

You couldn't go against her. Expressing your views was out of the question. Even at twenty-one, she didn't treat you like an adult.

She controlled everything—from what you wore to what you ate.