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bangtanbookclub · 2 years
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The Basics!!
Jackie, she/her, 19 (‘03 liner)
Ult is Joon, but all of hyung line has me in a chokehold
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est. September 2022
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imsadstuff · 3 years
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Mr Min and I
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Pairing | Yoongi x female reader
Part | I - Help me get my ducks in a row (I have been working corporate for way too long)
Genre | ceo! Yoongi, fluff mostly, Yoongi is bad at emotions and is a little intimidated by ___
Summary | the first year of working for Mr Min passes by pretty quickly, a quick friendship formed.
Word Count | 7.7k+
authors note | Hi guys, decided to revamp the first three parts into one. There will be two more parts, please look forward to them...
Find the series masterlist here
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This was not a part of the five-year plan but against my rationale here I am sitting for an assistant's job. The hallways in the entertainment company are much sleeker than I expected, the modern design and the monochrome furniture is totally my style.
I turn around to look at other candidates, each woman looking prettier than me, which makes me wonder if I should have done anything more than sunscreen and a tight ponytail this morning. Usually, I would be nervous, but I don’t know how I feel about this job yet, hence no anxiety.
Soon, my number is called a middle aged man guiding me to a quiet conference room. Usually there is a hiring committee, but this time it’s just one man who’s too busy talking on the phone. Not interrupting him, I take a seat across trying to study him.
Of course I know who he is, I am not some idiot who’s going to sit for a job interview without researching the company. He’s Min Yoongi, founder and CEO of MYG Entertainment. Started the label with his star musician Jeon Jungkook five years ago. He’s twenty eight, he is also a music producer and now he’s staring at me very intently.
‘Ms. ____’ he says, reading my resume. I sit up straight, taking a big gulp, I nod hoping he gets it. ‘You graduated with a bachelors in finance, interned at companies I have no idea about, why here’ he asks, putting my resume down and leaning back in his chair.
‘Because MYG Entertainment is one of the leading players in changing the music market. You have star musicians under your belt, musicians who are trendsetters-’
‘I don’t want a brown nose around here because I’ve got enough of those here. Tell me, what is the actual reason’ he pushes me, his voice is a little too bold.
‘Because I’m 25, I graduated college five months ago and I desperately need a job. I worked hard during college bagging just the right internships, and working my ass off. But the job market is much more difficult to crack than I expected to.’ I tell him the truth and he flashes a small smirk.
‘You clearly don’t want the job’ he says leaning his elbows on the table. ‘No, that’s not true. I want this job, maybe this company wasn’t on my top ten list, scratch that top fifty list of places I wanted to work at. But, I am nothing but determined. I will put my 200% into anything you ask me to do. My networking skills are next level, I can get you anyone’s number in New York. I twist old-white men to get what I want’ I am really selling myself, I really need this.
‘You’re strange Ms. ___’ he confessed and I nodded. ‘That’s how I stand out Mr. Min’
‘This is the salary, perks, insurance, 401K, all that mumbo-jumbo. You start right now, you in’ he asks, pushing a few papers towards me and I forget to breathe for a while.
‘Yes, I’m in. 100%’ I nod with enthusiasm, my anxiety finally catching up.
Every second since we stepped out the conference room feels like a daze. He first takes me to his office, he shows me around a little, not really stopping anywhere. I’m shown my desk but before I can sit in it, he hands me a phone.
‘This is my phone, you’ll be answering my calls, scheduling meetings, just managing everything. People I’ve marked with a dot after their name, they’re the important ones. Any call or message from them is SOS, anyone else is your call.’ I scramble around so as to not drop his very damaged iPhone.
He leaves for a few seconds and my eyes wander around searching for something, anything. My desk is situated just parallel to his office, so the entire office has a complete view of me, and they all gawk as a sit there like a lost child.
Finding a diary, I take note of everything he’s already said. Soon someone from tech greets me, handing me an iPad and setting up my desktop. ‘Hey, I’m ___’ I greet the IT guy once he’s done.
‘Max’ he says, shaking my hand.
‘So, um. How many assistants has he had before me?’ I need to gauge how much work do I have cut out for me. ‘None’ wow I’m dealing with a new generation of tight ass. ‘Find me if you need some company for lunch’ he says flashing a smile and I do the same.
I sit anxiously, no work for twenty whole minutes. Setting up my email and everything went by much quicker than expected. The intercom on my desk rings and I gasp very loudly eventually picking up the phone.
‘In two minutes three investors are going to come in for a meeting. Bring me water bottles and coffee, also ten minutes into the meeting I need you to come and make some excuse to kick those boring fucks out. Got it’ Mr. Min says, looking directly at me through his open door.
‘Got it’ I answer and he turns around putting the phone down.
I set a timer as soon as three suit-clad men enter his office.I start googling excuses, I don’t want it to be too urgent nor do I want it to be too personal. The phone never stops ringing, taking some calls and notes, I look over at the clock seeing that the ten minutes are almost over.
Quietly opening the door, I pop my head in making direct eye contact with him.
‘Mr. Min, there's an emergency at Sage’s album shoot.’ I say in a clear loud voice. He smiles a little, putting on a serious facade immediately and standing up.
‘Gentle men, I would love to discuss ROI on those projects, but I feel like this issue is a little too pressing’ he picks up his jacket and phone. How many phones does he have?
‘Walk with me’ he instructs and I follow him as he walks to the elevator.
‘How did you come up with that?’ he questions pressing for the basement.
‘I heard people talking about the shoot in the break room while I was picking up the coffee, and I assumed album shoots are very important’ he gives me a very amused look but in my mind I’m patting my back for doing a good job.
‘I like you already’ he says tossing me I’m presuming car keys.
It had been four weeks of working at MYG and I was exhausted, but I liked being exhausted. It was friday and I finally have some control over his very busy schedule, he’s double booked for the next four years somehow. It’s almost 8 pm when Yoongi returns to the office, from a meeting with advertisers. He directly walks into his office before I can say anything. I’m too engrossed in rearranging his contacts when his fingers rap on my table.
‘You should go home’ he says, he came into the office this morning with a tie but it somehow disappeared.
‘Actually, I was waiting for you. We need to discuss next month's schedule and a few other things’ I can’t imagine how he was managing all of this all by himself.
‘Set yourself up in my office, I’ll steal some beer from the tech fridge’ he’s gone as quick as he comes in.
‘So shoot, what is the main agenda for the next month?’ he asks, entering the office sipping on some beer. And there isn’t a second bottle in his hand, so I guess I don’t get one.
‘I don’t want to overstep any boundaries here. But you need to delegate like, a lot. For example, Monday morning, 9 am, you have a meeting set up with distributors, 9:05 a meeting with the creative team to discuss album covers, 9:07 you have a conference call with a new signed artist, but you are going to be in the meeting with the distributes till at least 10:15 am. This doesn’t make sense’ I sigh a long exasperated breath, his schedule is very anxiety inducing. He’s sitting in front of me, the same stoic expression from the day he hired me.
‘I need a purview over all of that’ he takes a big swig, ‘Delegating doesn’t mean that you won’t have direct purview over all of this. You’ll be passively involved.’ I suggest and he nods.
‘Alright’ he agrees and I’m a little disappointed. ‘You agree this easily’ I question shutting off my iPad. ‘I was prepared to fight you more’ I joke and he smiles too.
‘You sound like you know this stuff, also I’m very sleep deprived to fight you on this’ he jokes and I lean over to take the bottle from his hand.
‘Let’s meet up for breakfast tomorrow, we’ll discuss your essentials and non-essentials. Come on, I’ll drop you off, you need to sleep’ I don’t wait for him to follow me.
‘You have weekends off?’ he questions, putting on his jacket.
‘Were you not in the room when I briefed you about the Monday meeting situation’ I joke, taking his car keys from his hands.
We are in for a long, grueling weekend. ‘So, I have been meaning to ask, seeing the mess that you are, why no assistant before me’ I question stopping below his building.
‘I didn’t have the time to hire one’ he says as I pull into the parking lot.
‘Get six hours of sleep, at least because you have a lot of hard decisions to make tomorrow’ I say handing him his car keys back.
He leaves with a simple bye but he’s soon shouting my name bringing me to a screeching halt.
‘Text me when you get home’ I really didn’t expect him to say that, he’s not a stone hearted per say, but he’s not especially the caring type either.
‘Can't have you be in danger when you’re finally helping me get my life together’ he jokes and I smile, of course that.
‘Got it’ I say, turning around and walking to the nearest metro station. I forgot how quiet New York is during the night. It’s nothing like the movies, it’s actually quite a depressing city sometimes. But at least, I had a meaningful day at work.
I have been around for over five months now, the chaos around Yoongi is still there, just very significantly less. He is still shuffling from one meeting to another conference call, putting out one fire after another. But today is a big day, Jeon Jungkook, the star of stars at MYG Entertainment is returning back to New York after a few months of hiatus. Yoongi had been preparing for his return for at least a month now, he’s got a tight plan and he’s excited about it.
‘So, I’ve blocked your complete day today. There is a list of things you need to run by him, and all of that has to be done today because the production staff is waiting for a go ahead from you’ I say handing him a list of activities he needs to run by Jungkook.
‘How about you sit in for the meeting?’ he suggests, he hasn’t asked me to do that before so this is new.
‘Will he need anything, coffee, tea, water-’ ‘Sour patch kids’ he answers and I make a weird face. He laughs nodding, ‘He’s quirky like that, but I would love an iced americano and maybe a bagel, I didn’t have any breakfast’ he says handing me his black american express.
Usually, I would get him his coffee from the office cafeteria but the coffee machine is broken so I guess I’m standing in line at a starbucks in the morning rush. A rush of cold air engulfs me as I step out, should have worn that jacket, but oh well.
Manhattan is what you expect it to be, inconsiderate jerks talking on the phone loudly, people power walking to work, almost everyone is dressed in greys, blues or blacks, occasional tourist group slowing down rest of the city, but it’s eclectic, it’s bright at times, and it can be depressing at times just like people, it moody and it changed itself.
I’m waiting in line to collect my order when I noticed my reflection. I had definitely changed over my time here. Everyone at MYG is always super sharply dressed so that’s what I did after I got my first salary. Nothing too flashy just picked up some simple pieces from TJ Max’s clearance sale, I had money but I was still frugal.
After the second month, I found a decent hairdresser. My long hair was definitely a chore in the morning so I cut it. The short bob turned out cuter than I expected, and everyone definitely noticed, especially Yoongi, but not in the ways I would like.
‘I don’t like it’ he expressed the minute I walked into his office with my new hair. I just stood dumbfounded, not really expecting that reaction.
‘Well, um, I don’t think it can be reversed-’ I had been feeling myself all day with the new change but one comment from him and it came crashing down.
‘I don’t like change’ he says in a matter of factly manner, didn’t know he had purview over how I cut my hair.
I notice that someone is already in Yoongi’s office when I arrive. Collecting the brand new packet of sour patch kids, I make my way in. My loud knocks are met with his equally loud ‘Come in’
I know how attractive Jeon Jungkook is, but he’s somehow better looking in person. I don’t let his very attractive smile go to my brain, handing Yoongi his coffee and Jungkook his sour patch kids. ‘I um, Mr Min told me you prefer this over coffee-’ ‘Thank you very much?’ he asks my name and I fill him up quickly ‘___’ Yoongi is definitely noticing the blubbering mess I am, so he decides to take over.
‘Jungkook we have a lot of work to get to. Let’s start with the album’ Yoongi eyes me as he starts, instructing me to take a seat beside him on the sofa. ‘Hyung what is the rush, introduce me to your very pretty assistant first’ Jungkook says, his legs crossing as he leans more comfortably in his seat. Jungkook is clearly pushing Yoongi’s buttons, very clear from the scowl on Yoongi’s face. ‘That is inappropriate and can we focus on work’ Yoongi says sitting up straight, his coffee long forgotten. ‘Sure, I can get to know Ms. ___ on my own time. What about the album, did you check the lyrics I sent you’ I get a whiplash from how fast Jungkook moves onto work, but I take diligent notes, not missing a word.
Two hours later and we have almost all the details down, I now understand why Yoongi and Jungkook work well together, they balance each other out, and they are much more compatible than it seems like. ‘Now that works out of the way, Ms. ___ wanna go to lunch, my treat’ Jungkook says as I’m arranging some paper work on Yoongi’s desk. Before I can say anything, Yoongi interrupts, ‘I have work that I need ___ for’ he says, getting back to his desk. ‘Hyung, it’ll be just an hour. I promise I won’t ask her out, yet’ Jungkook jokes and I’m not sure if he’s joking now. ‘Mr Jeon, how about you give me fifteen minutes and I’ll have everything settled here and then I’ll join you’ I say, taking back control. Yoongi gives me a pointed look as I continue arranging his paperwork.
‘I can decide who I have lunch with’ I snapped him out of it, seriousness evident in my voice.
‘These are the agreement documents for the new merch distributor. The lawyer has already given a go ahead on this, I’ve marked x whenever you need to sign. You don’t have any meeting for the rest of the day, but the music production team wanted a one on one with you, so I’ll schedule that. Anything else’ I ask, taking a step back. He nods no and I take my cue to leave.
Jungkook is talking to the new intern when I finally catch his attention. Excitedly he walks to me, ‘First of, no. You will not ask me out, not now, not ever’ Jungkook has an amused smile on his face as I talk.
‘Second, that intern is off limits, good interns are hard to find and she’s a gold mine’ I instruct as I walked out the building a second time today.
‘No third?’ he jokes as we wait for his car to come out. ‘No’
‘I get why he was praising you’ Jungkook mentions opening the door for me. It’s hard not to be surprised, Yoongi is not one to praise, or even say thank you sometimes.
The lunch surprised me. Jungkook drove us to a quiet diner when I was expecting a Michelin star restaurant, not that I am complaining because that burger was what dreams are made of. Jungkook is easy to talk to, like a friend you’ve known for a few years. He really set a bad rep during the meeting because he’s nothing but a gentleman during lunch, I might even enjoy his company in the future again.
‘Don’t mind Yoongi hyung, he can be grumpy sometimes, he’s very sexually frustrated’ Jungkook says as we walk out from the diner. I don’t really know how to respond to that.
‘He’s not that bad’ He really isn’t, he had his moments. Some days he’s like a ticking bomb waiting for one more thing to go wrong, some days he has his neutral face and everyone enjoys their peace and quiet.
‘I wish I could drive you back, but I have a photo shoot to get to’ I expected Jungkook to have a team of managers getting him places but this is a surprise. ‘Don’t worry about me. Should I get you a driver or something, do you really get yourself places’ I ask, with genuine curiosity.
‘I like driving myself, one of few normal things I get to do. I had a good time ___ we should do this again’ Jungkook offers and I nod. ‘I’m serious, it might come as a surprise but I don’t have a lot of friends’ Jungkook looks very normal right now in a simple t-shirt and jeans, and I keep forgetting that he’s mega famous. ‘Just call me and I’ll try and be there’ before Jungkook can bid a proper goodbye, I’m already sort-of running back to the office because of a text from Yoongi.
Mr. Min: Coffee, in ten
It’s one of those Mondays that just doesn’t seem to end, it’s 7 pm already but there is a mountain of work for me to climb. The couch in Yoongi’s office is looking like a very tempting place for me to take a nap, because the more time I spend on my desk the more work keeps piling. ‘Yoongi is out for a work dinner, he isn’t coming back to the office’ I tell myself as I enter his office. ‘He is enjoying a steak dinner, you get to enjoy a ten minute nap’ I reason with my rational as I make myself comfortable on the couch. I don’t know how Yoongi is going to feel about my bare feet being on his very expensive couch. I googled it, priced at 12,000 bucks. My brain and body shut off the minute my eyes closed, I wish I went to sleep this easily on my actual bed.
Yoongi was a little surprised to not see ___ at her desk, but he’s even more surprised when he enters his office. ___ is curled up on one side of the couch, sound asleep. This is not like her, he’s used to her sitting straight on her desk as she types away. But today she looks soft, a little fragile, he has a smile on his face but he doesn’t notice. Tiptoeing to his desk, he picks up his laptop ready to leave, but the sudden rustles from her stop him in his tracks. She holds her arms close around her, ‘she must be cold’ he thinks to himself. Without a second thought, he’s removing his jacket to lay it on her.
Yoongi is amused by her desk setup, he sat down here to work a little but he’s a little too distracted with the multiple sticky notes on the PC. She’s very meticulous, he notes seeing the array of paperwork arranged on her desk, seeing this clean set up no one would have noticed the kind of work she’s buried under. There’s also a humidifier and a dehumidifier, that makes Yoongi laugh a little too hard. He ducks to check if that woke her up, but all he sees is her still very asleep.
The office is starting to get empty but Yoongi doesn’t notice. His mind is very focused until he is disturbed with a very loud, ‘OH FUCK’. Checking his watch he notices that it’s around 9, she mustn’t have rested enough. In a matter of seconds ___ is stumbling out his office, his jacket still in hand.
I never noticed that my ten minute nap stretched over two hours, or that the lights had been dimmed, OR THAT I WAS SNUGGLING TO YOONGI’S JACKET. He is sitting unfazed on my desk as I saunter out. He looks up for a second and goes back to work like it’s nothing.
This is what is going to get ___ fired, not my incompetence or forgetting to have his coffee ready. ‘I am so sorry, that should have never happened. I was very tired and a migraine was killing me and I am so so sorry’ I don’t know where to look, so I just look down at my feet.
‘We should get you some medicine for that migraine’ he says that when I was fully expected him to be passive aggressive. Before I can say anything, he springs to his feet and returns handing me a pill. ‘I get a few migraines here and there, this will help’ He disappears again, and I feel like I'm still sleeping and maybe dreaming this. ‘Here’ he says, handing her a glass of water. Wordlessly she takes the pill and he shuts his laptop. ‘I’ll drive you home’ maybe he’s being nice right now and will lay it all out for me when everyones around.
‘Why are you being nice?’ I question leaning against the glass in the elevator. ‘I am not a monster, you know’ he jokes standing parallel to me. ‘I know that, I also know that you don’t like people in your place, or people in your office, or change-’ ‘I guess your health and well being trumps it all’ he declares walking out the elevator.
I try very hard not to fall asleep on the drive to my place, and I fail very badly. The pill he gave is definitely doing wonders. I jerk awake when he slows down below my place.
‘Take tomorrow off’ he instructs as I climb out his mercedes.
‘Mr. Min, that's going to be worse for you’ I say without noticing that his jacket is still in my hands. ‘I’ll be alright’ he flashes a rare smile and I mouth a thank you.
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Yoongi is this close to shutting the door, burning his fingerprints and vanishing off the face of the earth when an idea sparks him. He can call ___, but the bigger question is should he. This isn’t necessarily office work, but how will she have office work if he disappears never to be found again. He calls her before he talks himself out of it, quick as ever she picks his call within three rings.
‘Mr Min’ she sounds like she was asleep ‘___, I need you here. Shua might kill me’ he whispers into the phone. ‘What, what do you mean KILL’ I’m fully awake just because of a single word. ‘Yeah, and I know she has a gun so I need you to get at the address I’m texting you’ the lack of proper input is freaking me out but I don't say anything, he sounds freaked out enough.
Checking my phone I see that the address is five minutes from my place. Scrambling around I put on some pants and snatched a handbag before practically running down five flights of stairs.
When down, I note that it’s Sunday morning, even if I hail a cab, the best way to get there is either by walking or running. Rushing through crowds of people, I sort of semi-runs to the address. I haven't exercised in a very long time, and it’s very evident by how out of breath I am. Reaching there, I realize that it’s a townhouse and a shady building where Yoongi is tied up for money or something. Pressing the bell a few too many times, I lean against the side, still trying to catch my breath. I am not sure what to expect when the door opens, a mafia boss who’s held Yoongi to gunpoint-
‘Oh my god, thank you so much. This is out of hand-’ before Yoongi can finish his sentence, a child around two years old, in his arms very aggressively pulling his hair, starts shrieking, LOUDLY. Yoongi promptly hands me the child and runs into the house, having no idea whatsoever I enter the house, kicking the door shut. The child in my arms is very quietly playing with my hair too, and everything is fine until I make eye contact with it. And just like before it’s screaming again.
‘Jesus Christ’ I say to myself, not really knowing what to do with the child. Yoongi quickly rushes back into the foyer taking the child from me. Looking around the house is a mess, the curtains have somehow fallen down, there is a huge milk splash on the couch, books half open everywhere, and Yoongi is a mess too. He hasn’t slept all night and he thinks he just might cry.
‘What happened here?’ I ask, leaving my handbag and picking up a few books that are strewn around. ‘This child is a monster’ he says in a very serious tone, I am not used to this Yoongi, his hair is everywhere, there are a few too many stains on his shirt and he isn’t as confident as always. ‘I’m sure that’s now true, what happened here?’ I ask again, Yoongi just stares at her, not knowing what to say. ‘It all began when I let her have fruit loops for dinner’ he sighs, putting the still screaming child down. How is it still going?
‘That’s not good, how about you put it to sleep, I mean her. I shouldn’t call her it’ I think out loud and Yoongi nods, sitting down to meet the child's eye line.
‘I’ve tried ___, I’ve tried everything’ he really looks miserable. ‘What’s her name?’ bending down to make eye contact with the very cute child. ‘Luna’ he whispers.
‘Luna, I’m going to take you to bed. And then, I’m going to count to ten. If you aren’t asleep by then, something very bad will happen’ I pick up the child and follow the trail of mess, presumably to her bedroom. ‘I don’t want to sleep, I want to play’ Luna tried to reason with me. ‘If you don’t sleep, something bad will happen’ I didn't know I was such a great actor, with my strict tone and confidence. ‘What bad’ she asks with her big brown eyes looking at me. ‘Stay awake and you’ll know’ my tone must be working because her eyes shut as soon as I say that. Waiting for a few minutes, the baby monitor in hand I quietly shut the door behind her.
Before I can say a word, Yoongi engulfs her in a very tight, bone-crushing hug. ‘You have literally saved my life’ he says into my hair. The intimacy is
weird, but not so repulsive. Quickly, Yoongi realises what he’s done and he takes a step back leaving her.
‘How did you do that?’ he says while fixing his hair. ‘My mom used to say that to me when I was young’ I fold my arm over my chest and I realise something I might have missed. I totally forgot to put on a bra, Yoongi has definitely already noticed my nipple piercings and he’s making it too evident with that dumb face.
‘I’m starting to hallucinate. I need to sleep, do you mind looking out for her? I promise I just need to lay down for thirty minutes’ he is getting very agitated and irritated and he wants to be out of the room and not notice his assistant's nipple piercings anymore. Not that he doesn’t like them, he doesn’t know if he’s allowed to like them.
‘Thirty minutes will do you no good, I’ll wake you up in a few hours’ he is very quick to lay on the couch, and is asleep in a matter of seconds, how does he do that?
I am still a little fazed, I had only been awake for twenty minutes and a bunch of info was dumped on me. Yoongi has a child? Shua must be the wife? Is this like a second house because I am sure I drop him off at a different address every day.
Too consumed by the mess around me I get to work, putting things back to places. There is coffee and cereal in the same bowl and I do not wish to know why Yoongi did that. I don’t know how Yoongi likes his books arranged but I arrange them by colour anyway. Halfway through cleaning the mess that is in this kitchen when Yoongi stumbles in, his hair is still a mess.
‘You shouldn’t have done this’ he says sitting on a barstool ‘Oh, but I had to. Luna is still asleep, how did this spiral out?’ I say, handing him a cup of coffee, and he has this thankful smile. ‘Luna is my friend Namjoon and Shua’s daughter, Shua went into labour last night. Their sitter is out of town and in the haste of it all I was called to babysit Luna and I am a mess with kids. She bullied me all night’ he says, sipping on this god sent coffee that is going to cure everything. ‘Oh so Luna isn’t your daughter’ I say out loud and Yoongi’s eyes grow double the size. He nods no rigorously saying, ‘That monster, she threw eggs at my face and closed me in the supply closet, she isn’t my daughter’ ‘Don’t call her a monster’ I tease him by taking a few pieces of eggshells out of his hair. ‘___ I cried three different times today, a two-year-old child make me cry and rethink everything I’ve done in my life, she is a-’ ‘Yoongi stop calling her that’ I absentmindedly hit him on the arm a little, Yoongi perk up at the less formal greeting, weirdly he likes it.
‘___, can I see you in my office?’ Yoongi says as he walks back to his office from a meeting. It had been a week since that very strange Sunday morning but things were pretty much back to normal. Much to Yoongi’s dismay, she was back to calling him, Mr Min.
‘For helping me that morning, I don’t know what I would have done without you’ he says, placing a box with a set of candles. Yoongi was very confused about what to get her, jewellery would be too personal, so he went with what he personally likes the most.
‘You didn’t have to’ I am a little too preoccupied smelling the candles and don't notice the smile on his face.
‘Seriously, thanks. I promise I won’t ever call you until it’s life or death’ ‘Well, you know feel free to call me if you need. Think of it as a friend helping out another’ I propose putting down the candles. ‘Okay, friend. I do have a favour to ask. Call me by my name, at least when it’s just us.’ he proposes leaning back in his chair.
‘Sure thing Yoongi, also thanks a ton for these’ I turn around with the huge box in my hands. Self-care Sunday is going to be so much better with these amazing very expensive candles.
The complete office has been in a state of havoc for quite a few days, preparing for Jungkook’s album is a lot more work than I imagined it would be. A few days ago, Yoongi asked me to join him for all of his meetings and it was all fun until I realised that some of these meetings are just formalities to keep people happy.
‘We need to work a system and reduce the number of meetings you attend’ it was after a social discussion meeting when I was finally tired. I don’t wish to sit in a meeting where overly excited inters bounce off social ideas, I’m too old for that.
‘If anyone you are the person who can do that. Do I have any pressing matters for the day? I’d like to visit Jungkook’s MV site’ Yoongi asks checking his watch, it’s almost around 6 pm so they should be almost done filming. ‘Nothing important’ my eyes are on the phone because I’m currently in the middle of kicking Jungkook’s butt with my petty comebacks. ‘You wanna come along’ this causes me to look up, calculating a little in my head I mouth a sure.
‘I forgot that he was shooting on an ice rink’ I sigh as we walk into a very cold skating rink. ‘How bad at ice skating are you?’’ he teases and I give him a very threatening face. ‘I’ll have you know Mr Min that my ice skating skills are very suboptimal at best’ I continued the joke causing him to laugh out loud.
‘___!’ Jungkook shouts from the other side, very aptly catching our and everyone's attention. He’s soon running to us, stopping right before us. ‘What a surprise, I thought I was never going to see you again after I crushed you at Mario Kart’ Jungkook says with a very smug look on his face. ‘Kook, I let you win because I felt bad for you’ I very much didn’t feel bad for him, my competitive streak was going crazy after Jungkook was jumping with victory in my living room.
‘I am also here’ Yoongi says, catching our attention between the petty comebacks. Jungkook instantly pulls him in a hug, ‘Hyung, this is coming to look perfect’ Jungkook is a little too excited today, maybe because of the cold. ‘I’m glad, hopefully, it’s even perfect post-production. Is the director still here?’ Yoongi asks, his hands going into his pockets. He must be cold too. ‘Yeah, I think everyone is almost done packing up.’ Jungkook says pointing in several directions. ‘I have to get going, we’re still on for saturday right?’ Jungkook asks, pointing towards me and Yoongi gives me a bizarre look. ‘Yeah, around 9 don’t be early’ I tease as he walks away nodding. Before I can explain anything Yoongi interrupts me, ‘I’ll go talk to the director, I’ll be back soon’ he remarks not waiting for her response.
I know what Jungkook said sounded like we were going on a date, when we were absolutely not. I don't know why but I desperately need Yoongi to know that I’m not dating Jungkook, or that I ever will. While waiting for Yoongi to come back, I smell some fresh food leading me to the craft services table. It takes him quite a while to be back, everyone has almost left the rink much very quiet and dimmer.
In the corner of her eye, I watch him walk back. Two pairs of skates in his hands.
‘Yoongi I’m not doing that. I don’t want to break any bones’ I knew how bad I was at skating, but he wordlessly tied his skates waiting for me to do the same. ‘I won’t let you break any bones, I promise’ he says standing up. I put on the skates anyway, who can win against that smile. He holds out his hands waiting for her to take them, and I do just that. Not letting her very soft hands take over his mind, Yoongi slowly leads her, watching her very carefully as she balances pretty well.
‘Hey so um, Jungkook and I aren’t going on a date. I know it sounded like it-’ I have to clarify this, for a brief moment his eyes go from the rink to my eyes. ‘But I just invited him for a house party I’m hosting. There isn’t anything romantic, we would kill each other given how competitive we both are. But-’ I stumble a little and Yoongi is quick to pull me upright, in the process holding her even closer. ‘I get it. You don’t have to clarify all this to me’ the tension between them has very quickly risen, it may be due to all the proximity and eye contact.
‘Would you like to come, it’s just a small party for my roommate. She’s moving to Chicago’ I offer as they stop for a while leaning against the rails. ‘You don’t have to invite me just because-’ ‘Yoongi I wanted to, but I just didn’t know if it would put you in a weird spot. You’re my boss, afterall’ I defend myself, I had spent a complete weeked thinking about this, we had been working together for almost a year. ‘Ask me again, as a friend’ he says, smiling and holding out his hands again, they’ve rested enough. I take them again, slowly skating, ‘Yoongi, house party this saturday my place, be there by 9. Be there and bring some weed’ I stumbled again, falling down this time both of them erupt into loud laughter.
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It was a bad day, and everything had been spiralling since the investor fell out. Something about our finances looked not so good and Yoongi had been in a pissy mood ever since. Just talking with his eyes and staring me down as I nervously make mistakes due to his very intense stare.
‘___ let me reiterate this to you, I wanted these documents to be processed by legal yesterday, what do you not get about it’ he took me aback, didn’t expect him to be at the office this early. ‘Yoongi, I mean Mr Min, I am so sorry I must have delivered the wrong documents yesterday. Why don’t you give me an hour and I’ll have this done and on your table’ I knew what was actually wrong, but Yoongi is not in the mindset to actually understand it. ‘It’s too late ___’ he says, leaving me all alone at my desk.
‘___!’ Yoongi shouts my name ten minutes later. Closing the door behind me, I don’t want the complete office to know what Yoongi is going off about again. ‘Yes, Mr Min’ we’re in very dangerous territory right now, one wrong answer and I might get fired. ‘Why can’t I access my calendar, what the fuck happened here’ he stands up pushing the chair back a little too hard. I’m not used to seeing him angry like this. Taking a quick look at his screen, I realise what the issue is. ‘It’s because you’re trying to access it through your personal email. I’ve stuck your office email and the password to the screen-’
‘Aren't you being a little know-it-all ___’ he says, and I try to convince myself that he’s being a dick because he’s having a bad day. He lost a big investor, I can take some heat.
‘I’ll leave you to it, let me know if you need anything’ I bit back a snarky remark, seeing his cocky face. ‘Yes, I had a date scheduled. But can you call and cancel it’ I know all about the date, I was scheduled on his work schedule.
‘Hey, so, um there’s a small issue’ Lara, our social media intern found me when I was in the middle of eating lunch on my table. ‘What is it?’ I am getting a little tired of today too. ‘A few of Sage’s nudes just got leaked. It’s just on Reddit right now, but it will start spreading like wildfire in a few minutes’ Lara hands me an iPad where I can see the very clear nudes. ‘Oh this is so much bigger’ abandoning my lunch, I quickly make my way to his office, shutting the door behind me. He scowls seeing as I interrupted him on a call, ‘Cut the call, this is way too important’ Placing the iPad in front of him. ‘I’ll call legal and PR and get them here right away. You call Sage but please for the love of God, don’t get angry with her, this is not her fault’ I go into problem-solving mode before Yoongi can say anything.
‘This is going to cost us so much more, litigation vise’ Yoongi complains the moment things look a little taken care of. ‘Let me pay for this’ sage offers from her seat beside me. She had been absolutely modified having to sit through that meeting and having to answer some very difficult questions. ‘No, just go home. Don’t talk to the press, and please be careful next time’ Yoongi has discarded his tie and he’s just about done with today.
‘Hey, there are some articles online already, please don’t pay any mind to them, Stay off socials and let me know if there is anything else to be taken care of’ I say, patting her arm. Sage looks terrified, all she needs is a comforting presence. ‘___ there is no need for you to coddle her, she is an adult woman who made a mistake and now has to suffer-’ ‘Yoongi why don’t you shut up’ I lose my temper a little, standing up, going face to face with him. Sage takes her cue to leave but I won't back down this time. I’ve just had it with Yoongi.
‘I get that you’re having a bad day and losing an investor is a big deal. But you don’t get to blame Sage for this’ I say talking a lot with my hands, a force of habit for when I’m angry.
‘You don’t get how big of a deal losing an investor is. It makes the rest of them vulnerable too’ Yoongi’s voice is a few decibels higher than I’m used to, but it doesn’t faze me.
‘No, I don’t know, what am I but a small invaluable assistant. But you don’t get to be a dick and throw tantrums because one thing didn’t go your way. Man up, talk to other investors. If being angry every time there's some problem is your solution, you’re going to have a million other problems soon’ I am done with him for the day, taking my stuff I make my way out the conference room not looking back.
It’s around 7 pm when he wordlessly exits his office, not stopping on my desk like usual when we would discuss our dinner plans or asking me to drive him home while he does more work.
The silent treatment goes on for around two more days and it’s around Friday when I’ve had just enough. I am not upset with him per se, but I desperately need him to say something and gauge the amount of damage my little outburst caused. ‘Just fire me already’ I cry out taking a seat on his sofa. He has this amused look on his face like he didn’t expect this from me.
‘I would never fire you’ he answers, his nose still buried in papers. ‘I know I crossed a line that day, but this third degree with silent treatment is killing me’ I whine laying against his very soft couch.
‘You were right, I was being a dick. I also personally apologized to Sage, you were right, she didn’t deserve any heat from me’ he says sitting beside me.
‘I also wanted to apologize to you and thank you’ he leans his head against the couch too, he gets why I am always raving about it being so comfortable. ‘You don’t need to’ I turned my head to look directly at him. ‘But I have to, I am so sorry and I’m very thankful to have you make this all very easy. I was just in the worst mood because every time I face a big failure like that, I am reminded of how incompetent I am at this’ he says, vaguely pointing around everywhere. He stops for a while, trying to find something in my eyes and I don’t know what it is.
‘Yoongi you created all, you are very competent for all this because you do this for more than business, you’re compassionate about music, you want to share more of it with the world, Your passion is what makes you good at this, don’t let your anxiety fool you’ Comforting him, I place my hand on his knee and he smiles the same dazzling one, that makes my heart do things.
The next day Yoongi takes a break, he needs some self-care. And he can’t stop raving about the chiropractor I booked him while all I can focus on is his platinum blonde hair. He just sauntered in here and expected me not to make a comment on it.
‘I don’t like it’ I copied him pointing at his hair. ‘What you really don’t’ he questions ruffling his hair a little. ‘No, I do. I was just mocking you, about a year ago you did the same when I cut my hair short’ I play with my short bob a little as everything clicks in his mind.
‘I like our short hair, I just thought you looked prettier with the hair you had the day I met you. But this looks good too’ he talks animatedly, his hands coming to push back my bangs.
‘You're a pretty hot blond too’ I throw back the compliment and his hand comes right beside mine resting it there. I pass him a twinkling smile and leave his office quickly before I bend down and kiss his pretty face.
142 notes · View notes
an-exotic-writer · 4 years
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01; college!jungkook
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p: "i can't get over how a few months ago i wanted to learn your name and now you're having breakfast with me in my sweater." (01)
so i’m taking this as a belated gift to @astaegmatism​ and since i’m somewhat back, i just wanted to write a little something for her since this was my tradition when i was still active on here. love you karebun 💞
sunday mornings were confusing. one because the next day is monday, and god did you dread mondays. four hours of listening to your professor speak and needing to write? yeah, that doesn’t scream out fun at all. two because... well... sunday mornings are usually filled with gentle caresses on your skin from the moment you wake, a strong grip that refuses to let you go even though i need to pee, damn it! and a plethora of kisses showering you from head to toe, even in the shower.
but nothing beats sitting at the table to enjoy breakfast. because whoever who says breakfasts should not be a thing, should not be a thing. it’s simple. two cups of coffee, the silence slowly being gently rattled with sounds of people waking up and jungkook’s hand in yours as the both of you really only need one hand to get everything done - eating, scrolling on your phones, occasionally taking glances at one another and smiling.
there was nothing more you could ask for.
except, when you peek up from your phone and notice jungkook still staring at you. not to mention, you’ve downed everything on your plate so he can’t be wanting any of your bacon. curiosity gets the best of you and you squeeze his hand, tipping your chin up to him.
“yes, jeon?”
his brows furrow and his nose scrunches. one of the things he does when he’s-”i still don’t get it,” his fork meets his plate and apart from his hand tightening in yours, he moves his free hand to cup his chin as his elbow meets the surface of the table.
“your calculus homework?”
he scoffs. “i don’t even try anymore, remember? you’re going to support me, i’ll be the housewife. you’re the smart one between us.”
his smile grows bigger when you start laughing, and when the laughter dies down, he leans back and shakes his head. that gets you listening as you put down your fork and stare back at him. and if there’s one thing you admire about jungkook, it’s how direct he always is.
“you,”
your brows perk up and you feel your chest getting heavy, wondering if there’s anything that you’ve done within the past week. okay, maybe you ate the last bit of coco puffs, or that chocolate bar in his fridge but that’s all on him, who told him to leave it unattended? all of your assumptions go down the drain when he huffs, getting your attention on him, only to hear him say: “i can't get over how a few months ago i wanted to learn your name and now you're having breakfast with me,” his eyes point to your attire,” in my sweater,"
“who the fuck looks cute in a sweater? who?”
if you weren’t blushing from guilt then, you’re sure as hell turning into a tomato of emotions. even with red cheeks, jungkook still thinks you’re adorable. and now he thinks you’re the cutest person alive when you move your plate out of the way to hide your face on the table, as if there’s a slot for you to disappear completely. jungkook basks in how he’s making you blush, but grows to wonder what you’re mumbling.
“c’mon y/n, you’re a medical student who uses big words. use words i can hear,”
well, he asked for it.
he leans forward a bit more just to hear you clearly say the words that gets him gasping.
“i ate all the coco puffs,”
“you...”
“...and the chocolate bar,”
“come here you little demon!”
he lets you slip your hand past his and that’s when the chase begins. and it usually ends back in bed where he lies on top of you to get you to apologize, but he’ll somehow be the one buying more coco puffs and chocolate because he knows you like them anyway.
((”you know, i get it,”
“...hm?”
“a couple of months ago i was trying to learn your name too and now i just wake up every morning, grateful i know your name and when i call out to you, you’re there,”
oh how the tables have turned when jungkook’s bright as a cherry now.
“aw, you’re getting all red!”
"you’re satan reborn.”))
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vanaera · 4 years
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The Heart Holiday | Act 2 (2/2) | myg
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Synopsis: Valentine’s Day is declared as an official holiday. However, private companies’ standards dictate it’s only for the people who are currently in a relationship. Unluckily for Y/N, she doesn’t have this year’s PRS’ (Proof of Relationship Status) “in a relationship” box ticked – the only ticket out she can have to enjoy one paid week of holiday leave away from her hellish job. And more unfortunately for Y/N, everyone around her is oh so conveniently currently committed in a relationship. Except for one person: Min Yoongi, Y/N’s biggest critic in every pitch meeting, the picky guy who always picks on her, and the most annoying jerk of the century. Desperate for that holiday leave, Y/N strikes Yoongi up with an offer: Fake date each other two weeks before February 14, just enough time for the Department of Relationship Management (DRM) to consider processing their PRSs. After Valentine’s Day, they will go back to their own ways and never speak about whatever that may happen during the plan. Good, plain, and simple. That is until, Yoongi uncharacteristically oh so enthusiastically agrees to Y/N’s offer, leaving her thinking that she may have bitten something too much more than she can chew.
Characters: Yoongi x Female Reader AU/ Trope: Office AU (Creatives Staff!myg x PA!reader), enemies to lovers, fake dating Genre: fluff, angst, comedy (the triple t(h)reat) Wordcount: 24.5k Warnings: None (PG-15 Rating). There’s a mention of drunken sex but it’s just one sentence. There’s also less cursing now.
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DAY 4 – January 29; Wednesday
               If yesterday had Yoongi weirdly avoiding her like she’s got a highly contagious virus, today’s Yoongi is a hell of a nutcase. This is even far from an understatement. Ever since Y/N set foot in the office, Yoongi is already on her face. “You got my message last night, sweetheart?” He winks as he walks by her side towards the Creatives’ office. When Y/N plops down on her seat, Yoongi’s eyes are already set dead onto her. He’s not sending her his usual ‘I will end you and you know I can’ look. He’s cupping his face and stares at her with wide, big eyes, lips pulled into a small smile. He even goes as far as to wink at her and send her a fucking finger heart. As if it’s not enough, he has spammed her phone with weird shit.
               Mean Yoongi >:( : Good morning, pretty girl.  (8:19 A.M.)
               Mean Yoongi >:( : Did I call you pretty? Oops, I mean little girl AHAHAHHAHAH (9:11 A.M.)
               Mean Yoongi >:( : Don’t ignore me now. I know you’re staring at me 😉 (9:31 A.M.)
               Mean Yoongi >:( : Who wouldn’t when I’m so handsome? (9:32 A.M.)
               Mean Yoongi >:( : You don’t have to tell me. I already know 😉😉😉 (9:35 A.M.)
               Mean Yoongi >:( : Y/Niiiiiiieeeeeeeee (10:16 A.M.)
               It seems like a virus has gotten into Yoongi’s head and tampered with his brain.
               Y/N’s thoughts halt when Dana passes by her cubicle at 11 A.M. She retrieves the folder she gave her yesterday and glosses over the paper where Y/N typed her final picks. “Endmatter, Extreme Cut, Malachite Adventure? And you want to make a hybrid out of them?” Dana glances up at her.
               Y/N nervously clasps her hands together, “Well, I know these templates are usually used for feature articles. So I thought, why not make them appropriate for profile pages, too? No one di-dictated them to be just for features, right? Endmatter has a wonderful layout for pictures. Extreme Cut is good for setting focus on the text blocks. Malachite Adventure has a space-efficient layout for sequencing. If we can combine these three, we could provide something new,” Y/N bites her lip. “Nancy likes new and clean for generic pages like the profiles. So…I guess, why not combine these three templates known for having a clean-cut design?”
               Dana stares at her. Y/N gnaws on her lips. The blonde breaks into a grin. “My, you do research well.”
               Y/N shyly looks down onto the notebook on her desk. She doesn’t do much work other than gathering reports anyway. It’s only logical she spent five hours learning about templates yesterday than not doing anything. She mutters, “I just really put my all when I’m given a job.” 
                “And you did,” Dana smiles, “I think this is even brilliant. I’ll make sure to tweak these three to what you suggested.”
                “Y-you will?” Y/N’s eyes grow big. She could feel her heart hammering loud in her ears.
                “Yeah, why not?” Dana shrugs, “This is new so I’m excited, myself, to try this. And because you know what Nancy likes from all the time you spent with her probably overhearing her roast us all to hell and back, I can at least be assured she won’t be too disappointed with this as our previous submission.”
                “Yeah,” Y/N smiles. Heat spreads onto her ears and warmth settles on her chest. The feeling feels too foreign and surreal but she guesses it’s probably just because It’s been a while since she’s been praised for doing a good job. 
               “Guess you and Yoongi made up, huh?”
               The spreading warmth freezes cold. Y/N looks up at Dana in surprise. 
                “I saw you two earlier being chummy with each other. It even looked like you two have fucking heart eyes,” Dana smiles expectantly.
                “N-no, we’re—” Y/N cuts herself. Right, we’re supposed to be a couple. We should have already started convincing everyone we’re dating each other the moment we agreed on the deal. Y/N gulps, “Umm, uh, yeah?”
               Dana giggles, “You don’t have to be so nervous, you know? I know you two have a thing. For a long time now.” Y/N’s brows meet together. Dana doesn’t dwell on it, gathering the folder back onto her arms, “Thank you for this again, Y/N. See ya later.”
               Dana leaves for the break room and Y/N’s left staring at her back. Her stupor is broken when Yoongi enters her field of vision again, hands occupied with papers.  When he passes by her cubicle, he makes sure to flash her another mischievous wink.
               Y/N groans and slumps her head onto her desk.
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                “He’s got my number now, Mina, and to make matters worse, he’s being a winking machine ever since this day started!”
               Mina nods. However, Y/N could tell something is up. Her bestfriend’s eyes are switching from her face and onto her radio and her hands were shaking in her clasp. It’s as if she’s restaining herself. 
               Y/N pauses. She pulls her seat closer to her friend, “Did something happen, Mina?”
               Biting her lips, Mina pins her with a look, “Y/N, promise me you won’t be too surprised.”
               “Why?” Y/N’s eyes grow bigger, “So something really happened? Tell me, Mina.”
                No,” Mina shakes her head. She closes her eyes, “Just promise me you won’t overreact.”
               Y/N’s lips twitch. “Okay.”
               Mina sighs. She turns to her computer and scrolls through her Facebook account. “So yesterday, I’ve been talking with our high school batchmates. They were planning a reunion next month. A big one. They said they’re trying to get ahold of the whole batch. And something caught my eye.” Mina zooms a post on the screen.
               It was a post of Suho Lee, the former Student Council President of their batch in National East Science High School. He took a picture of him and his former members of the council, announcing they’re indeed planning a huge reunion since it’s been a while they’ve seen each other. The post has over a thousand likes by now because Suho made sure to tag almost everyone in the batch. Of course, he’s Suho. Suho knows everybody. Y/N could even see Mina’s name among the tags. But what made her jaw drop is one aberrant name she never expected to be there.
               Min Yoongi.
               Y/N turns to Mina, eyes blown wide, “Mina, what the hell is this?”
               Mina nods, “I’m also shocked, Y/N. I didn’t know he studied in the same high school as us. He’s even our fucking batchmate. I didn’t know—wait, Y/N, where are you going?!”
               Y/N exits the Accounting Department and scrolls through her own Facebook account. She walks in fast strides and heads to where she only knows Min Yoongi will be during lunch: the break room. When she swings open the door, she’s right in her speculation.
               Y/N walks toward the man who’s washing his utensils in the sink.
               “Min.”
               Yoongi pauses and looks to his side, “Oh, sweetheart, you’re here.”
                “Don’t call me sweetheart,” Y/N spits. She flashes her phone to Yoongi. “What’s the meaning of this?”
               Yoongi squints. “It’s a reunion announcement.”
                “Obviously,” Y/N rolls her eyes, “I know how to read, Min. And because of that, I know you’ve been tagged here. So, tell me, why is your name here?”
               Yoongi places his washed utensils in the dishrack. “Obviously, I’ll be tagged because I studied at NES High,” He looks at Y/N, leaning his hips against the counter, “Why are you making such a big deal out of a reunion announcement?”
                “Because I studied here too!”
                It’s time for Yoongi to have his eyes bulge out, “Y-you did?”
                “Of course, I did! This is where Mina and I first met!”
                “But I thought you two were just college buddies?”
                “We are! But we belong in the same friend circle in high school first before we got closer in college—this is not the point,” Y/N exasperates, “Why did you not tell me you studied in the same high school?!”
               Yoongi opens his mouth but Y/N cuts him short, “Oh, I know. This is probably the reason why you’re tormenting me ever since you got into Travel Loca.”
               “What?”
               Y/N crosses her arms. “You’re out here to take your revenge on me.”
               The furrows on Yoongi’s forehead deepen.
               “Hello?” Y/N deadpans, waving her hands as if it can shake up Yoongi’s memory, “You’re probably one of the names I removed on some group work we had because you’re a freeloader. No wonder you’re so lazy and such a slack-off when you used to co-P.A. with me.” Y/N holds her head high, “And now, you’re here to take revenge.”
               Yoongi releases a half-scoff, half-laugh, “What?”
               Y/N frustratedly blows a sigh, “In case you did not know, I’m well-known in the batch for removing names of freeloaders in group works. I haven’t kept track of how many names I’ve already removed because they’re that many. And now, you’re here taking your revenge. You don’t have to be petty, Yoongi, you know? If you had unresolved feelings—which I think you don’t have any right to have in the first place because it’s your fault for being lazy and you dug out your own grave—you could have just talked with me like a goddamn adult instead of doing all the shit you did—”
               Yoongi’s guffaw cuts you short.
               Y/N scowls, “Why are you laughing, Yoongi? This is not funny.”
               “Oh, it is!” Yoongi lets out, in-between breaths, “This is hilarious! Revenge? What will I avenge against you when I don’t even know you studied in the same high school?”
               Y/N stops. “Y-you don’t know me? But I’m the valedictorian of our batch!”
              “Not everyone cares to know that, you know?”
               Y/N’s scowl deepens, “Just because you didn’t get any awards in your whole life doesn’t mean you get to demean and undervalue other’s people achievements.”
               “I’m not undervaluing it,” Yoongi takes a step closer to her, “I’m just saying no one spends too much time remembering their batch’s valedictorian. I don’t even remember the summa cum laude of my own batch in college.” Yoongi takes a step closer to Y/N, trapping her back on the counter. He leans forward, closing the space between their faces so small only a hair’s breadth separates their noses from brushing against each other. Y/N lets out an inaudible gasp. Yoongi smirks, “What makes you so different, sweetheart?”
               Y/N places her hands on his shoulders, “Don’t get too proud of yourself, Yoongi.” But before she can push him away, the door swings loudly against the wall and a woman exclaims.
               “Oh my God, I’m so sorry for interrupting!”
               Ms. Teddy. Y/N’s mouth falls open. She weakly hits Yoongi’s chest to back away and pay respect to their temporary boss but Yoongi only holds her fists and gives her a sickening, sweet smile. He turns around to face Ms. Teddy, but not enough to let out Y/N from her position. Yoongi smiles at the general supervisor, “Oh don’t worry Ms. Teddy, you’re not interrupting anything.”
              “Are you sure?” the 45-year-old woman asks. Her wary tone doesn’t match the small blush forming on her cheeks though.
              “I’m sure,” Yoongi replies, facing Y/N, “I’m just trying to ask my sweetheart for a date.” Yoongi turns back to Ms. Teddy, smiling, “Nothing biggie. She just said ‘yes.’”
               Y/N gapes “What—"
               “Oh!” Ms. Teddy perks up, “You two are so sweet! I didn’t know you’re actually a couple! I mean, who would have known? You two always fight with each other. But I guess the movies are right. ‘The more you hate, the more you love.’”
               Y/N tries not to cringe too hard.
               Ms. Teddy chuckles, “What Y/N said before must be true then. Calling you a ‘mean, inconsiderate, self-absorbed jerk’ must be her own unique term of endearment—”
               Y/N raises her brows. How did Ms. Teddy know? Only Steven knows about the mug-chipping incident—” 
                “—I mean, I even used to call my ex-boyfriend ‘stupid asshole,’” Ms. Teddy chuckles. She suddenly releases a frustrated sigh, “God, I still hate him so much.”
               Y/N doesn’t know how to react to that. And so seems Yoongi.
               “Anyway, don’t mind me,” Ms. Teddy waves, a sweet smile plastered on her face again. She walks towards the ref to retrieve a green Tupperware. “I’m just here to grab my cheesecake.” The way her eyes refuse to tear away from the “couple” seems to say otherwise.
              “O-okay,” Y/N says as she looks at Yoongi. It’s a good thing Yoongi is blocking her body from Ms. Teddy. ‘What do we do?’ she mouths at the man.
               Yoongi thinks for a millisecond, then mouths at her, ‘Just follow my lead.’
               Before Y/N can mouth ‘okay,’ Yoongi has closed the gap between them and pressed a quick peck on her forehead. He smiles at her, tucking a stray strand behind her ear, “All right, I’ll see you later then, sweetheart.”
               “A-alright,” Y/N stutters. Yoongi steps away and she quickly makes her way to the door.
               Y/N only notices her hands were tingling when she reaches her P.A. station. And that searing warmth has settled itself on her chest. She plops down on her seat and lets out a tired breath. When she glances at her small mirror, she realizes her face is as red as a strawberry.
               What the hell just happened there?
               Y/N doesn’t get much time to think about it because her phone vibrates next to her leg.
               Mean Yoongi >:( : Let’s meet at The Café Bistro after work. Let’s talk about everything. (1:11 P.M.)
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               Y/N doesn’t see much of Yoongi for the rest of the day. He’s probably holed up in the meeting room again just like yesterday. The Creatives were much in a rush since yesterday, probably after receiving the work Yoongi has disseminated. Everyone is hunched over their computers. Some have buried their heads in previous issues and design brochures. While a few were chattering about what design is better for their chosen template than the other.
               And there is one who’s on Y/N’s tail.
               “Oh, Myungsoo, I didn’t see you there,” Y/N glances up from the pile of papers on her desk. 
               Myungsoo doesn’t return the greetings. He leans over her desk and picks one paper to inspect it. “Why do you have this?”
               “Umm,” Y/N looks around the papers strewn around, refusing to look at the frowning man, “Ms. Park gave them to me. She wanted to, uh, have me check them and give some inputs about it.” A smile plays on Y/N’s lips. Dana Lee must have told Yoona about her recent arrangement that’s why Yoona came to her after lunch to ask for advice and critique on what she and her concept team have prepared. It’s quite overwhelming as Ms. Park is one of the respected team leaders in the Creatives. 
              “Ms. Yoona gave you this?” Myungsoo scoffs. Y/N’s smile immediately falls. “Why would she give you this? You don’t know anything about the work we do. You’re just Nancy’s P.A.”
               Y/N internally sighs. Myungsoo has always been wary of her ever since she got in the Creatives but she never knew he will be this hostile. Still, she doesn’t want to cause any unnecessary tension so Y/N tries to placate him. She pulls a polite smile on her face, “That’s why Ms. Yoona came to me. She said since I’m with Nancy for almost 24/7, I must probably know a thing or two about what she likes to see.”
              “But do you?” Myungsoo raises an eyebrow.
              Y/N looks down on the papers, “Y-yeah. Somehow.”
               Myungsoo sighs and drops the paper back onto the pile. “Anyway, I’m here to tell you I’m rejecting your letter of permission to get access to our cover page drafts.”
               Y/N’s head shoots up, “W-what? But Yoongi—”
                “I know what Mr. Min told us this week,” Myungsoo informs. “Yes, we’re tasked to walk you through the activities of our department. However, there are still protocols in our authoritative freedom and I, as a team leader, cannot just give you the drafts of our cover page. We still need more time to work on it and I cannot embarrass myself in front of Ms. Nancy about a work that has not fully taken shape yet.”
                “But didn’t you hear what Yoongi said?” Y/N reasons, “I’m here to help you and I need to give updates to Nancy about everything at every end of the week. Especially now when the department is in full motion.” Y/N cannot give Nancy nothing especially now that Nancy has just emailed her that their issue’s deadline has been moved to February 17. It’s just around the corner. In fact, it’s only a matter of weeks!
                “Well that’s your problem,” Myungsoo retorts, “I’m not the P.A. What I can only give you for your update reports are our initial proposed ideas.”
               But they’re not enough. Y/N closes her eyes, “Look, Myungsoo. I understand that you may be feeling I’m intruding on a space I’m not supposed to. But remember, we’re working together for one company, not for ourselves.” Myungsoo looks like he’s about to bite back but Y/N cuts him to it, “I understand you may feel wary about submitting your concepts for the cover page when they’re still raw. Especially to someone like me who may not completely understand the value you place in your work. However, I cannot just give Nancy undeveloped ideas. So, how about we make a compromise? I’m not gonna push you to walk me through your cover page processing. Or argue more about your raw concepts you’re drafting as of now. But, can you give me at least the plans you made for the undeveloped ideas you’ve chosen your working concept from? So I can still, in a way, report to Nancy the plan your team is trying to execute?”
               Myungsoo stares daggers into her before he mutters a clipped, “Fine. Expect to receive them by the end of the week.”
                “But I have to report them at the end of the week—”
               “End of the week or nothing at all?” Myungsoo sneers, “I can’t rush my artists to finish their concept-making just to take the load off your own job.”
               But I’m not demanding you to make my job easier, can’t you just cooperate like an adult?!—Y/N closes her eyes and sighs, “Okay, understood, Mr. Kim.”      Fighting with him won’t help anything in the pressure the department is facing.
               Myungsoo turns around and wordlessly walks away. YN releases a tired sigh as she goes back onto Yoona’s papers. 
               Hours pass with Y/N finishing her inputs in a document file. Mina has popped by to tell her she’s leaving early to go on a date with Mark. She said she’d probably be home late so they’ll have to continue their conversation earlier tomorrow. However, that was two hours ago and now, it’s already five and almost everyone in the staff has already left the office. She only gets to realize this when a shadow peers over her cubicle.
               “Hey, work’s already over now.”
               Y/N looks up and sees Yoongi smiling at her. His hair was messy as always, probably from pushing them back and carding through them throughout the day. His tie is askew and his button-down is folded messily to his forearms. And his smile felt so gentle. She doesn’t know why but she lets out a relieved sigh.
                “Let’s go to the Café Bistro now, yeah?”
                “Okay,” Y/N smiles back.
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               “So…you’re the most hated person in your class for removing names of slackers off group works?”
               Y/N rolls her eyes, “Didn’t you hear what I told you earlier?”
               “Of course, I heard,” Yoongi chortles, scooping a spoonful of his rice bowl, “I just didn’t expect you’ll go for info-dumping in two minutes straight. You really do love to ramble a lot, no?”
               Y/N looks away and stuffs her mouth with a spoonful of her own rice bowl. When she swallows down, she pins Yoongi with a glare, “You can say shit all about how I talk but just so you know, that skill got me so far to where I used to be. I wouldn’t graduate cum laude if I didn’t ace all my speech classes.”
               “I’m not shitting on it. I’m admiring it.” Y/N freezes in her seat to look at the man. Yoongi chuckles. “I’m serious. You don’t have to be constantly on your guard around me, you know? Aren’t we already friends?”
                “F-friends?” Y/N scoffs, “Where the hell did you get that?”
               Yoongi tilts his head, “But I already got your number.”
                “You forced your way to get my number.”
                “I did not force you. You willingly told me your number in a game of 20 Questions.”
               “You covertly formatted your questions to get me to spill my number. I did not willingly tell you my number. You coerced me.”
               “I didn’t. I got your number fair and square,” Yoongi waves his phone.
               “But that doesn’t—”
               “And you already put a name on my number in your contacts,” Yoongi grins, “You even have an emoji next to it.”
                “How did you know?”
                “You opened your phone earlier on the train. And in case you don’t know, the train isn’t one of the most spacious places in the world. We’re practically side by side, look” Yoongi points to the damp patch on his shoulder, “You slept on my shoulder and even got drool on it.” Y/N looks away and stuffs her mouth with another spoon. Yoongi continues, “And with you leaving your phone open for the world to see your messaging app, it doesn’t take two years to see that someone has named you with some obnoxious contact name.” Yoongi opens his phone, “It’s okay though because I also named you this,” he flashes the phone to Y/N.
                >:( Evil Peachy Pie Y/N >:(
               Y/N squints at him. “Fine, a name for a name.”
               “See? That’s why we’re now friends.”
               Y/N scoffs, “How come?”
               “Because you got me a nickname. And I got you one, sweetheart,” Yoongi winks.
               Y/N’s jaw drops, “What the—you know what, go do you and go off to whatever your delusion is feeding you.”
               “Yay! Y/N and I are friends!”
               Y/N gawks at him. Yoongi shrugs with a smile and digs into his food.        
               Chatters fill the bistro. Y/N thinks it’s absurd to combine “café” and “bistro” for the name of an establishment. “It’s as if it can’t choose what type of business it really wants,” she argued earlier to Yoongi on the train. But now that she’s inside, she finally understands why. The interior design of the restaurant is covered in warm orange. The walls and the floor were in mahogany wood. The tables and chairs were metal black with curvilinear gildings, making them look like they’re supposed to be garden furniture in the first place. The plates and bowls were faux wood as well, save for the metal utensils and their glasses that came as mason jars.  And the overhead lights are gorgeous. The faux candles hung up in circular mini chandeliers above the wooden ceiling give off the aesthetic of a gothic palace. Meanwhile, the bar on the center of the shop was of high-quality polished wood. A lot of people are dining like them on the tables but there are also numerous patrons who were in stools, holding different kinds of liquors in their glasses. There’s a free space in front of the bar where Y/N could see couples slow-dancing to the live jazz band playing in the corner. And with the separate menu for alcoholic drinks the waiter had given them earlier, Y/N could finally see why this cafe is also a bistro.
                “So, whose names did you slash off from your group works?”
               Y/N whips her head back to Yoongi, “Why are you so insistent about this?”
               Yoongi pushes his empty bowl to the side. “You said everyone knows you for that. I’m just curious about the slackers who free-rode on you back then. I might even know them since I studied in the same school.” He leans back and places his arms behind his head, “You could totally help me avoid some leeches in life.”
                “First of all,” Y/N points her spoon at him, “You’re the first leech you should know. You slacked off when you were my co-P.A. You slept, you didn’t take calls. You even served me raw for Nancy to roast.”
                “I’m sorry.”
               Y/N’s brows shoot up. “W-what?”
               Yoongi leans forward and clasps his hands together. He looks at the woman in the eye, “I’m sorry about that, Y/N. Sincerely. I admit I was too much of an asshole back then. I tried to justify it by thinking you’re annoying so you deserve some annoyance in life, too. But in the end, I know I’m still wrong. You being annoying or not, what I did was still wrong. I’m sorry.”
               Y/N’s jaw drops as she leans slowly back in her seat. Did Yoongi just apologize to her? Again? And for three consecutive times tonight? What is up with him?
                “You don’t have to forgive me, you know? Nor am I telling you these just to get the guilt off my back. I’m sincerely sorry. I want to apologize to you.”
                “W-what are you suddenly on about?” Y/N tries to laugh but the sound is weird in her ears. “You got so serious, I thought I’m suddenly talking with a stranger.” Y/N tries out a chuckle again. It sounds more convincing to her this time. She waves her hand dismissively, “Anyway, I didn’t actually answer your question. You’re talking about high school so here it goes.” She looks up at the ceiling, “Well, I’ve got Johnny Lee, Byun Baekhyun, Park Mirae, Lee Jieun, Mark Peters” Y/N cups her jaw, “What’s more? Oh! How could I forget—Jennie Kim, Im Nayeon, Daewon Lee—”
                “Wait, Daewon Lee?” Yoongi sits up, “You mean Daewon the quarterback? And Jennie Kim and Im Nayeon, the cheerleaders?”
                “Why?” Y/N leans forward, “You know them personally?”
                “God, yes,” Yoongi laughs, “They’re awful.”
                “Tell me about it,” Y/N’s eyes sparkle in interest.
                “Well,” Yoongi starts, “we had this class project where we have to recreate a scene from a well-known play or movie. Our class was assigned to do Hairspray. And Jennie Kim was our class president so of course, she was horrible. She re-proved this fact when she decided to go dictator and exercise penalties on anyone who would be late for the rehearsals. She freaking imposed that we have to pay $2 for every minute we were late. All is fine if she didn’t assign her own home as the practice place and there’s a lot in the class who lives a good two miles away. And it didn’t help almost everyone just agreed with it because no one decided to contest it in fear of turning the majority against them. It was horrible. All the late fees were put in our class fund. It accumulated to about $100 at the end of the day and that’s very unfitting when NES High is a fucking public school. 
                “$100?” Y/N gawks.
                “Yeah.  Moreover, it’s unfair, because we all know at the end of the school year, the class fund will be divided among each student. With the late fees being implemented, it looks like people who are Jennie and those who live near her will benefit for free from these late fees. Luckily, someone was brave enough to stand up and talked it out with them. And of course, with Jennie being Jennie, she flipped out so the whistleblower eventually had to go to the headteacher of the event to settle the issue. I’m kinda ashamed about this incident. I’m one of the many who just went with the majority because,” Yoongi frustratedly cards through his hair, “I was a bit of a pushover back then.”
               Y/N gapes, “Y-you? A pushover? Oh my god, you’re like the stereotypical nerd in movies who does a 180 to seek revenge!”
               Yoongi squints at her, “Will you stop with the revenge plot you’ve been pushing since this morning?”
                “Okay,” Y/N says but her face looks otherwise with her trying hard to hold in her chuckles.
               Yoongi breaks into a chuckle as well, “God, you look ridiculous.”
                “So are you,” Y/N laughs. When the snickers die down, she waves at Yoongi, “Go on with the story.”
                “Okay,” Yoongi breathes out, “So that was the first strike for this dumb shit squad. The second was worse for it affected the whole batch. It was when the school coordinators tasked each class with a specific dance genre to perform. And Jennie, being the unnecessarily extra bitch that she was, decided to fuck up the arrangement by forcing another class to exchange their assigned piece with ours. Of course, this sparked chaos because when other classes have heard about this, they wanted to exchange, too. And soon, everyone was arguing how they want to exchange or keep their assigned pieces. It’s so messy that the teachers had to hold a batch-wide meeting with all the class officers to settle things out. Luckily, there was someone who stood up and outright pointed out it was Jennie who started it all because she did not ask for the other classes’ consent in the first place—” 
                “Wait, are you talking about me?” Y/N cuts him, eyes wide. “I’m the one who first called out Jennie in the meeting!” Y/N exclaims, “I can’t hold myself back that day because I’m so sick of everyone just willingly and silently enduring her bullshits! All of this wouldn’t happen in the first place if she wasn’t such a shitty, entitled person. I even remember Jennie staring daggers at me as if doing so can reverse what happened when the teacher told her off in front of the whole batch.” Y/N’s brows meet together, “How did you know about this though? Even if it was supposed to be a batch-wide meeting, not everyone was present. The teachers didn’t make the meeting compulsory especially for the students who feel uncomfortable going against another student.”
                “Everyone kind of knows. News about Jennie being roasted by the teacher after a student doused her with the realest true as fuck accusation is enough of a big deal to go around the school.” Yoongi tilts his head, “I just didn’t catch wind it was you.” 
                “Yeah, but,” Y/N self-consciously rubs her nape, “I just did what I felt was right. I don’t like it when people just stay silent when wrongdoings are deliberately happening in their faces.”
                “You’re right,” Yoongi smiles, “and because of that, I’m thinking I’m starting to admire you.” Y/N immediately freezes the heat on her chest back again. She feels it starting to spread up onto her face.
               Yoongi, either unaware of her reaction or plainly indifferent about it, just smirks and continues. “Now, that I finished my story with these terrible fucks, it’s your turn. What did they do that you striked these three names off?”
               Y/N lets a small smile grow on her lips as she crosses her arms. “It was Daewon who I striked first. As early as 7th grade, mind that. We were groupmates for our Bio experimental case study and he didn’t do a SINGLE thing. Very first year in high school and he’s already letting everyone know he’s a shitty groupmate. So end result? A slashed-off name and an immature ‘pity me’ cryfest in front of the professor.”
                “Who’s the professor, if you don’t mind me asking?”
               Y/N grins, “Mr. Ascott.”
                “Oh shit, Mr. Ascott?!” Yoongi chokes a laugh, “Oh my god, and he dared to cry and ask for pity! Of all people, to the prof who detests freeloading the most?!”
                “Yeah,” Y/N snickers, “That’s why it’s so hilarious! Imagine the what-the-fuck face Mr. Ascott has when this spoiled boy tried to cry his way out of his mistake. He looked like he’s about to blast harder than Mauna Kea!”
               Yoongi laughs, waving a hand over. “Who’s next?”
               Y/N blows out a sigh to die down her giggles, “The next one was Nayeon. 11th grade. We’re a pair this time and we’re tasked to make a research about the communication systems of a business. Whenever I tell her we need to meet up, write the paper, or even talk online for the planning at least, Nayeon kept on coming up with ridiculous excuses like how she’s come down with a fever because she ate a lot of rice or she can’t walk because of a motherfucking aching toenail. She even stood me up in the café I told her to go to, to finally get things done. Talking normally with her is impossible. So yeah, I passed the research with just my name on it.” 
               Y/N tilts her head, “And last but not the least, Jennie Kim. 12th grade. We had to make a lab report for Chemistry as a group. She said she’s sorry she won’t be able to contribute anything because she needs to be home soon as her mother is deeply sick in the hospital. We understood and told her it’s okay. Only for us to see in her Snapchat later she’s partying hard in a bar,” Y/N rolls her eyes, “But what irritates me most were ironically, not these.”
              “Did something more happen?”
              “Yes! These three didn’t see any of these as their faults! They saw it as me just being a bitch and picking on them! And because they have such loud mouths, news about me as a ‘name-remover bossy bitch’ traveled fast. Every first day in class per year, a lot of students are already looking at me funny. Throughout the school year, they go as far as ignoring and avoiding me.” YN crosses her arms and directs her eyes onto her empty bowl. “But I’m alright. I don’t care shit about what others have to say about me when I know I’m in the right. I don’t need lots of friends in the first place anyway.”
               “But it must have been hard to be alone.”
               Y/N’s head shoots up, “What do you mean?”
                “To be hated by almost everyone in the class,” Yoongi pulls a sad smile. “It must have been painful in a way. To be treated as an outcast when you didn’t even do anything wrong.”
               “I-I wouldn’t call myself an outcast during that time, you know?” Y/N picks up her glass to drink, looking away.
               “Well, if you say so. I just thought it would have been…difficult to be alone most of the time. To feel as if everyone hates you. Personally, I don’t care when people talk shit about me. But this feeling that everyone just…doesn’t want to be with you hits me quite hard. I don’t know if you’ve felt this. I just know I will feel like this if I was in your position.”
               Y/N, with eyes still trained away from Yoongi, just hums, “…Yeah.” 
               An awkward silence was starting to settle again until Yoongi breaks it with a sigh, “From all of this, I’m realizing our high school didn’t do a great job in giving us a wonderful experience.”
               Y/N turns back to him. She pours water in her glass and mutters, “You’re right. High school is shit.” She leans back in her chair, glass in her hand as she looks at him. “Do you have more bitter stories to tell?”
               Yoongi fiddles with his fingers. “Well, there’s one. I mean, there’s a lot because high school wasn’t that kind to people like me back then. But this one really stuck with me. I’ve been…friends with a lot of toxic people throughout high school. At first, I didn’t notice it. How they lowkey downgrade me whenever we hangout. How they always make me the butt of their jokes. How they always leave me out in any of their fun plans for getaways. I even tried justifying their actions, telling myself it’s probably I’m not yet too cool for them. That I still need to fit more with them. And when I finally realized the wrongness in this during one summer, I cut them all out in my life. Only to end up in another friend circle that turned out to be also toxic. Though it’s less toxic than my first one, it’s still toxic. They made me feel bad for doing my best in school, calling me such a conformist to the education system as if it’s so wrong. They made me feel horrible for just studying and preparing too much for quizzes and exams, telling me I’m just investing a lot of time on something I wouldn’t even use when I work. And for the second time, I justified my ‘friends.’ I thought maybe they’re right. I have to listen to them because maybe they’ll leave me and I will have no one else who’d be willing to be friends with me. I only got the wake-up call when my grades all fell down and I had to repeat 10th grade.”
               Y/N’s eyes grow large, “B-but, you said it was because of Thesis Writing?”
                “Yeah. Thesis Writing was the one that maimed me bad. But what led me to fail it so terribly was because of these second group of friends…Rina, Johnson, and Fei—
               Y/N immediately holds up her hands, “Wait, I-I-you don’t have to tell me their names if you don’t want to, Yoongi. You—I don’t know, maybe the memories come back and trigger you—I-I’m not that eager to know their names, you know? I just want to listen to you.”
               Yoongi chuckles and Y/N’s eyes only grow more. “I’m telling you their names because I already got over it, Y/N,” Yoongi informs. “I already feel comfortable telling this to you, sweetheart. Though I have to admit I’m loving what you said a little too much.”
               Y/N frowns, “Wh-why do you have to say stupid shit like this? Can’t you just continue your story?”
                “I have to say these because you’re being cute.” Y/N only frowns more. Yoongi chuckles, “Okay, okay, I’ll go back to my story.” He heaves out a sigh, “So, these Rina, Johnson, and Fei—well, they made me feel the efforts I put into studying will be pointless. That the dreams I have will be unattainable anyway because the world will never let them come true for people like me—not rich, not talented, not smart enough. And because of this mentality discouraging me whenever I try too hard, coupled with the messed-up confidence I had because of my first friendship circle, I turned out to be a…horrible speaker. But I think I shouldn’t blame them for this. I also have faults in this because after all, this is my life. Maybe I’m too easily swayed, easily discouraged, and too dependent on other’s company back then.”
                “You’re right on that,” Y/N says, “but I think the people who have affected you to be what you were back then are rightfully justified to be blamed for. Or even deserve the greater blame. We’re teenagers and we do stupid things. And during our teenage years where we feel so confused about just everything, what mattered the most was the feeling of belongingness. The feeling of belonging to someone or something. This feeling gives us a way to identify ourselves and our purpose. Erik Erikson’s Stages of Psychosocial Development even say so. Yeah, we also have faults in ourselves that are worth blaming for and working on, but people are social beings. And most of the time, we become who we are because of other’s words, actions, and influence,” Y/N pulls her lips in an attempt to send him a comforting smile, “You don’t have to beat up yourself too much.”
                “Whoa,” Yoongi gapes, “Just…wow.” He shakes his head, “I don’t even know what to say…And this is weird because I always know what to say,” Yoongi chuckles and Y/N follows suit. “I mean,” Yoongi tongues his cheek, “How did you come up with these?”
               “Because I also experienced having friends like you had.”
               You did?” It’s Yoongi’s turn to gawk at her.
               “Yeah,” Y/N purses her lips. “It was in high school too. Even if I was lucky I skipped 8th and 9th grade, I wasn’t immune to toxic people. The friends I had in my first year, honestly…scar me until now. They downed me too many times, too, telling me I’m not that good, or I’m too intimidating for people would like to be with. They even called me annoying,” Y/N cackles. But her laugh soon dies down when she looks at Yoongi’s unamused look. “U-um,” She ducks her head down and fiddles with the seams of her blazer, “That’s not really funny, I’m sorry.”
                “They’re not,” Yoongi deadpans, “Especially when it’s deprecating the person you should first and foremost care: You.”
               Y/N’s head shoots up.
               Yoongi lets a small smile grace over his face. “Go on with your story.”
               “U-uh, yeah,” Y/N opts to play with her fingers this time, “So yeah, I ended up…downing myself, too. Berating and insulting myself even worse than those toxic people did. I even discouraged myself from even trying. I stopped myself before I even get to start at something that induces passion within me—dance, art, singing, whatever. I halt myself first before anyone can. Other’s words against me hurt me more than my own words. The only silver lining I had was when I got to 10th grade and met Mina,” Y/N grins. “Even if I still get reminded of the scars I got from my ex-friends, I’m grateful I also learned what’s it really like to have a friend for the first time.” Y/N turns to Yoongi, “What about you? Did you find at least…one friend before high school ended?”
                “More than one actually,” Yoongi smiles. “I met three in 11th grade. Namjoon, Taehyung, and Jimin. Even if Namjoon graduated earlier, we three eventually met each other again in college. God, ever since I befriended those three, I never knew again what it’s like to be a loner. I know it’s kinda late that I get to enjoy high school but I had the most fun I could ever have in those last two years. Though college is still god-tier. That’s when I was really the happiest” Yoongi chuckles. He leans back in his chair and sighs, “Even if the majority of the memories our high school gave us were shit, I think it still tried its best to give everyone a memorable experience.” Yoongi smiles, “What’s a memorable experience you could thank the school for?”
               Y/N opens her mouth but Yoongi quickly cuts her short, “And no, don’t say it’s meeting real friends. Other than that, any memorable experiences you had?”
               Y/N looks to her right, brows scrunched, “Hmm…it had to be…Oh! The science expo held in our gym in our last year!”
                “The expo?  The one they held as our ‘field trip’—in our very last year of high school at that—because they ‘lack’ funds for an actual one?”
                “Yeah,” Y/N smiles wide, “I actually enjoyed it a lot. There’s a large model of the Megalodon jaws wide open that you have to step into to enter the expo. Its teeth are so big and gosh, I love sharks. I love the documentaries about them. And oh, there’s also a bus that’s remodeled to have lab tables instead of seats. We get to look at microscopes magnifying different microorganisms and micro-things. It’s like a running test in chem but fun! And my favorite one had to be the astronomy tent-dome. I call it that because it’s a humongous black sheet of a tent that’s shaped to look like a dome. We had to crawl inside to get in. It reminded me of how I loved to play pillow forts in my room when I was a kid. And then inside, there’s someone there who actually works at NASA that plays the videos of constellations on the dome above us. And he’s amazing because he knows all the stars in the Milky Way! He even broke the myth concerning your birth month and Zodiac sign. The constellations of your Zodiac sign don’t usually appear during your ‘zodiac month’!”
               “They don’t?”
               “Yeah! I’m an Aries and yet the constellation most apparent in the sky during my month is Libra instead. I’ve never seen the Aries constellation before on my birthday. It’s always Libra. Okay, don’t look at me like I’m a hoe for Astrology—I’m not. I just fell in love with Astronomy after that expo and I ended up memorizing a lot of constellations and trying to point them out in the sky and—
               “I’m not looking at you like you’re a ‘hoe for Astrology,’” Yoongi quotes, chuckling. “I’m looking at you because honestly, I’m amazed by you. Really. I never enjoyed that expo, because honestly, I like learning the actual stuff in real-time. But to have you spouting such mindblowing trivia and how you just talk so animatedly about it makes me want to time travel to that day and re-experience it. Really, you amaze me.
               Y/N coughs into her hand, an attempt to out-volume the thrumming tinnitus she feels between her lungs. She pulls a tight smile and looks up at Yoongi, “What about you? What memorable experience did you have to thank high school for?”
               “The prom,” Yoongi grins. “It’s my first time to be in such a glamorous setting that I instantly thought it would be my last time I could ever experience such pizzaz. Everyone looked so regal. There are ball gowns, luxurious suits, glittering decors, and lush carpeting I could spend years standing on just because it feels so pillowy soft beneath my feet. The venue had gothic pillars and renaissance paintings and rose-gold gilded chandeliers that hang above, looking like it hooked all the stars in the galaxy beneath its dangling diamonds. The food was great, too. I honestly couldn’t believe a public high school could afford this—well, there’s actually a lot of upper-middle-class families who pitched in some money but I only found out about this two weeks after the prom. Although we had a grad ball, it still couldn’t top 10th-grade prom. Sure, there’s a lot of people mingling and I’m too much of an introvert to enjoy socializing. But when I just sat and watch the party go, the picture in front of me looked so similar to the Yule Ball shown in the Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire movie and it’s just so fascinating. And—wait, why are you looking like that?”
                “N-nothing,” Y/N shakes her head. She also hopes to shake away the utter wonder that must be obvious in her face. Mina always said she shows excitement so easily on her face.
               And too bad Yoongi pushes her buttons so well that he could easily read her. “What ‘nothing’? You look so amazed as if you’ve never been to a prom—wait, you’ve never been to prom, haven’t you?” 
              There’s no point to lie otherwise. Y/N looks down at her lap and admits, “You’re right. I’ve never been to prom. Or even the grad ball.”
              “Why?”
              “Because I find them a waste of money. Hundreds of money for a dress you’ll never wear again and spend a couple more for the admission when you’re just gonna sit at the table for the whole time. The grad ball was an inconvenience because it’s set on the day before my birthday and of course, my birthday is worth celebrating more than the grad ball.” Yoongi chuckles at that and a small smile forms on Y/N’s lips. However, it quickly dissolves into a straight line as she continues, “And I didn’t go to prom because it’s stupid. The admission fee you have to pay is honestly over-priced. Of course, all of the payment won’t go to the rented place because the school is still gonna get a percentage from it. Then everyone is just gonna dance around and get wasted and you’ll just have to seat throughout the whole meltdown because you’re responsible and aside from that,” Y/N heaves out a huge sigh, “there’s a high probability you’ll bump into a horrible boy.”
              “Oh!” Yoongi claps loudly, “A boy problem—!”
               “I’m not gonna tell you his name,” Y/N points a finger at him. “It’s all in the past and, I’m just,” Y/N sighs, “well, over it.”
               “What did he do?” Yoongi asks, tone soft, a lot less bombastic as his previous exclamation. “What did he do to—I don’t know, give up prom to avoid him?” He sits up straight and holds up his hands, “If you don’t mind me asking and if you feel okay to answer it, of course. If not, it’s also totally okay, and—” 
               “He gave me false hope,” Y/N deadpans, swirling the water in her glass. “I thought there’s something developing between us because he does an awful lot of sweet things for me like letting me lay my head on his shoulder whenever I need to catch on some sleep in our school service. He even helps me carry my things and walk me to class. Only for me to find out he actually likes another girl in our school service. I felt used. Like a ploy to get the girl he likes to be jealous of us.” Y/N sets her jaw on her palm. “And so, I didn’t go to prom. Because I know that girl will reject him when he asked for her first dance ‘cus she already got a mutual thing going on with her classmate. And I don’t want to be a second choice, a back-up plan someone will opt for when their first choice didn’t work out. I’m not going to be a reserve part for something someone built with a different part in mind.” Y/N takes a sip on her glass. She places it back on the table, “I still feel aggravation for him so I don’t want to hear his name again. But I’m over him now, so you don’t have to look at me like that.”
               “L-like what?” Yoongi asks, pulling on the collar of his gray button-down.
               “Like you’re angry for me. We’re not yet close to be feeling this way.”
               “But we’re friends.”
               “You’re the only one who decided on that label.”
               “We are friends.”
               “Whatever satisfies you of your delusions—”
               “And because we’re friends, I could tell you wished you experienced prom.”
               “W-what?” Y/N’s jaw drops.
               Yoongi smiles at her, “You don’t have to hide it Y/N. I know you.” He stands up from his seat and offers a hand to her, “Now, let’s go.”
               “Where are we going?” Y/N asks, still seated.
               “We’ll dance.” Yoongi’s smile widens. “The Café Bistro has a wonderful live band playing and as you can see, there’s also a lot of people dancing to the lovely songs they’re playing…This is the closest setting we can have to a prom.”
               Y/N gulps down a nervous breath as she looks up at Yoongi’s eyes. She takes his hand.
               Yoongi leads her to the center of the slow-dancing throng of people. The live band plays in front of them, a group of wonderful men and women wearing elegant black gowns and suits, playing classical instruments to the music of popular love songs. Everything looks pleasant even if nothing about this set-up is grand. The couples are just in casual clothes but watching them have fun slow-dancing to the music feels like they’re actually in a ball. And the faux candles that hung above the Café Bistro doesn’t look like chandeliers in a Gothic palace anymore. They’re bright and glittering as if the café fished all the stars from the night sky to hang onto their own makeshift sky. Yoongi’s right. This indeed looks like a prom.
               “Hmm, am I right now?”
               Y/N turns to him and playfully pokes his shoulder, “Shut up.” A second no longer need to pass by when a huge smile makes its way onto Y/N’s face.
               Y/N and Yoongi had their hands interlocked as they move to the rhythm. Yoongi initially proposed to have their hands and feet positioned for waltz only for Y/N to bump her head on his shoulder to get him to shut up. Yoongi only ends up cackling obnoxiously. 
              Stepping side to side, arms swaying by their sides, they look like two adult penguins waddling towards each other. When Y/N pointed this out, Yoongi bursts into another set of cackles.
               However, when the song changes and A Thousand Years by Christina Perri starts to play, Yoongi’s chuckles instantly die down and a mindboggling statement escapes from his lips.
               “Put your hands around my neck.”
               “What? Are you fucking crazy?”
               “Hey, the song is romantic.”
              “So?” Y/N raises a brow, “What does it logically have to do with putting my arms around your neck? And also, this song is one hell of a cliché. A love song bulldozered and abused over and over again in every debut, wedding, and prom—”
              “It’s played over and over again because a lot of people relate to it. Who wouldn’t? It talks about love.”
              “Well, I wouldn’t.”
              Yoongi sighs, “Look, all the couples here are slow dancing to this song and since we’re already posing as one, might as well copy them.”
              “Well, I don’t wanna.”
              “If you’re thinking this will be a revolutionary moment between us, I’m already informing you it won’t be. It’s just slow dancing,” Yoongi shrugs, “We did this in prom. It’s not that special, to be honest. I’m tryna offer you the prom experience, remember?”
              Y/N focuses her eyes on the seams of her blazer, a petty frown on her face. “I’m positively sure we’ll look stupid if we slow dance so I’d rather not. In case you don’t know, I hate embarrassing myself.”
               “Hey, you don’t get to sound so sure with your prediction when you haven’t tried it out yet. I’m just asking you if you would feel okay to slow dance with me. But if not, I will totally understand—” 
               Y/N loops her arms around Yoongi’s neck. “There,” she hisses, “Satisfied?”
              “Very,” Yoongi grins, looping his arms around her frame, gently placing his hands on the back of her waist.
              “Now shut up,” Y/N turns her face away from him. She could feel Yoongi so close. She could feel the breath he lets out comb past her hair. She could feel the warmth from his neck seemingly transfer onto her hands. His chest is just an inch apart from hers for him to discover the rapid beating reverberating there ever since this day started. Y/N closes her eyes and sighs. She doesn’t understand why she’s feeling this way. She chucks it down to the theory that it’s just been a long day. She’s astounded to learn Yoongi was her high school batchmate, then Myungsoo turned up and made her frustrated, and now she’s practically having fun because Yoongi offered an entire 180 from her previous emotional state. 
              But maybe it’s also because it’s been so long since Y/N received physical intimacy. It’s been ages she felt a warmth from another person’s touch. She couldn’t even remember being so enthralled just because someone platonically wanted to dance with her. But then, it could just be her desire to get over these ten dates required by DRM speaking for her body. The sooner the better they say and as of now, she’s nailing down their third date document.
              Y/N knows this must be the answer when the night deepens and the band plays the last song for the night. After receiving a pale pink envelope from the sweet manager, the night dwindles fast to where she is now: walking home, side by side with Yoongi. She thought there was a reason Yoongi picked a date site that would require them to take a train first. She just didn’t expect she will get the answer to this when Yoongi offered to walk her home. ‘It just a ten-minute walk from here,’ Yoongi insisted. And right now, it looks like he’s right because it’s only a matter of time until they reach the entrance of the Village Estates.
               “So, we’re here now,” Yoongi says, sliding his hands into his coat pockets. 
               “Yeah,” Y/N smiles back. Then she perks up, suddenly remembering something, “By the way, how come did you know about Café Bistro?”
               Yoongi leans toward her, face leveling hers. “We work for a travel magazine, Y/N. Of course, we should know about this stuff. Our Writing Department even did a feature about it.” Y/N’s brows shoot up. Yoongi leans back, putting space between them again, “I’ve been wondering ever since we got in as to why you looked so amazed at the Bistro as if it’s your first time seeing something like that. And now I know why. It is indeed your first time. You’ve never been to a lot of tourist spots before, much less even those near you.”
               “No. I’ve been to a lot, actually,” Y/N lies through her mouth.
               “I don’t think so,” Yoongi quips. Y/N frowns. Yoongi’s smile widens, “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll take you to places you’ve never been before.”
               His gaze on her was not teasing, nor was it mischievous. And Y/N decides she doesn’t like it when she can’t tell the look in his eyes. She takes a step back and clears her throat. “Goodnight, Yoongi,” she bids, and then she starts for the entrance.
               Just when the peace of the night is about to settle on her, Yoongi, of course, decides to break it one last time.
               “I had fun tonight, girlfriend! Or should I say girl-friend?”
               Y/N continues with her steps, raising a middle finger in his direction. Yoongi laughs and that’s the last sound Y/N hears for the night as she enters her empty flat. 
              A text from Mina says she’s going home in an hour. After preparing her bestfriend a midnight snack just in case she’s still hungry, Y/N turns on the lights on their hallway and resigns herself in her room. Picking the date document from her bag and the other two on her counter, Y/N plops onto her bed, holding up the pale pink envelopes above her face. It’s been a while since she had fun collecting these pretty envelopes. When she first encountered these date documents five years ago, she thought they were silly. But as she twirls them under the light of her room, she thinks they’re actually genius. After all, attention and quality time spent together are good measures to see if a couple is really dating.
              “We just need seven more,” Y/N whispers, closing her eyes. As the starless night grows darker outside her window, the coffee-stained scent of today’s pale pink envelope lulls Y/N to sleep with a smile on her face.
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DAY 5 — January 30; Thursday
               Y/N is at her wit’s end. It’s already 12 in the noon and nothing terrible has happened yet. It’s Thursday. Thursdays are supposed to already have it bad for her the moment the day starts. But Y/N woke up feeling nice from a good night’s sleep. It was early so she had a fun breakfast with her bestfriend where they spent an extra half-hour talking about each other’s dates. Though it sounded more like Mina’s the only one who went to an actual date because Y/N spent the majority of her turn to speak ranting about Yoongi’s smugness and whatnot. The train wasn’t crowded when she commuted to work. She and Mina even managed to get seats at seven. And in the office, nothing unwanted has happened yet. Well, of course, there’s Yoongi who still won’t stop sending her weird texts and occasional winks.  Everything is okay and normal as usual until—
               “Hey, Y/N, wanna have lunch with us?”
               Y/N turns in her swivel chair and there standing by the Accounting’s glass door were three people. Dana Lee, Jeff Anderson, and Ahn Seojoon.
               Dana continues, smiling at her, “If you didn’t have lunch yet, of course.”
               Y/N whirls to face Mina before turning around back to Dana, forehead furrowed, “I’m sorry, Dana, Mina and I already have—” 
               “No, Y/N hasn’t lunched yet!”
               Y/N whips her head to her bestfriend. Mina smiles at her, “Y/N, you should go ahead.”
              Y/N sighs, “But Mina, you would be alone today. We always eat lunch together. And aren’t you supposed to tell me more of what happened in the show you’re watching?”
              Mina claps her friend’s shoulder, “Y/N, it’s alright. We see each other in and outside the office every day. We can just talk later when you get home. Or tomorrow if you end up having another date tonight with Yoongi. After all, you told me before you want to have more friends in the office. Well, here is the chance!”
              “What chance are you talking about? And when the hell did I say I want more friends—”
              “Dana,” Mina hollers, “Y/N said she’ll go!” 
              This chance, however, was not what Y/N expected it to be. Because now, Y/N finds herself in some Mexican restaurant with three pairs of curious eyes focused on her and an unexpected guest sitting beside her.
               Y/N crosses her arms. “You didn’t tell me Yoongi would be here.”                “Well, surprise?” Jeff shrugs.
               “We figured since you and Mr. Min are…really close, why not invite him?” Seojoon explains. 
              “So,” Dana twirls her straw around her smoothie, “what’s the thing between you and Yoongi?”
               Y/N perks up in her seat. Jeff gawks at Dana. “Why did you have to be so straightforward about it?”
               “So we can finally get the answers we’ve all been waiting for,” Dana says matter-of-factly. “For one year these two are like oil and water. And then this week they’ve become chummy-chummy. I always knew there’s something going on between you two but I can never point it out. And now that you two decided to come out in the open, I guess I can also finally get my answers.” She turns back to Y/N, “So, what are you two really?”
               “Yoongi’s my, um, special friend—” 
               “Y/N’s my girlfriend—”
               Dana’s brows twitch. Yoongi quickly reaches over to pinch Y/N’s cheeks, “Oh sweetheart, you don’t need to feel so shy anymore. We’re no longer special friends so start feeling comfy to call yourself my girlfriend.”
               Seojoon coughs into his hand. Dana and Jeff slowly nod. Jeff leans forward, “So…how did you two meet?”
              “In high school. We’re kinda friends—” 
              “In the office. It’s love at first sight—” 
               Y/N eyes Yoongi. Yoongi grins. Y/N looks back at Jeff, but not without pinching Yoongi’s leg to stop him from spouting any more bullshit. Y/N smiles, “Yoongi and I met back in high school. We were batchmates.”
               “Oh, high school sweethearts!” Seojoon claps, grinning.
               “Not necessarily,” Y/N says, “We just kinda knew each other back then. And then we met each other again in Travel Loca.”
               “I see,” Dana holds her chin, as if in thought, “You two sure looked like you’ve known each other for so long…You know each other so well that you get to hit each other’s flaws so accurately whenever you bicker. Right?” Dana looks at Y/N.
               “Right,” Y/N grins. She unconsciously gulps down a nervous chuckle. “I-it wouldn’t make sense if we insult each other so well when we don’t know each other for a long time right? More even, fall in love?”
               From the corner of her eye, Y/N could see Yoongi’s head tilt, lips pursed together. It’s his face when he’s about to voice disagreement. She pinches his leg again to get him back to his senses.
               “Ye-yeah,” Yoongi stutters, “You must know a person for a long time before you can insult them well. Or love them.”
               Dana and Jeff nod their heads slowly, looking convinced. Except for Seojoon. The intern shakes his head, “I think not. You don’t need to know a person for a long time to fall in love. Or to even insult them. Hate or love—it just happens.”
               “Yeah,” Jeff agrees. “I think this felt more right. It doesn’t really require you long to hate another person for some unexplainable reason. Or fall in love with them.”
               “How did you know about this?” Y/N asks, clicking her tongue.
               Jeff looks unbothered by the questioning look on Y/N’s face. He leans back in his seat with a smile, “Because that’s how my girlfriend and I got together. We only knew each other for three weeks and it didn’t take me a day longer to know I’m whipped for her. In those three weeks, we even spent the first week really hating each other bad,” Jeff chuckles, “We used to scream at each other for hours across the windows of our apartments.”
               The furrows in Y/N’s forehead deepen, “B-but, how did you love her when you just hated her a week ago?”
               “Because love and hate have a lot of similarities,” Jeff says. “I think there’s a fine line between such differing emotions. People say it’s an end-to-end spectrum but I think that spectrum may not be as long as people make it out to be. I think they’re just two ends that sit opposite to each other. Anyone can cross from one to another and vice versa so easily. Kinda explains why you can love someone while also hating them a bit. And why you can hate or love something for so long and not consider changing your stance. Even if love is just a bridge away, its whole argument opposes the argument of hate. That’s why it feels the spectrum of love is a very long road to take—a wall too high to reach, making it hard for transitioning from one end to another. But, I don’t know,” Jeff shrugs, grinning. “Life is complex. Sometimes love and hate…just happens.”
               Seojoon and Dana nod slowly. However, Y/N feels otherwise. ‘Easy and hard to cross’? ‘It just happens’? What kind of nonsense is this—Y/N opens her mouth to argue—If not for Yoongi clasping a hand around her shoulders and urging her to stand up from her seat, “I’ll think we’ll order more tacos for us. My treat. We’ll be real quick.”
               Yoongi drags Y/N to the line forming in front of the cashier. When they’re a couple of steps away from the group, Y/N shrugs his arms away from her shoulders. She glares at him, “What do you think are you doing?”
               Yoongi tongues his cheek, “I should be the one asking you that! What do you think are you doing there? Trying to argue with my friends about something so trivial like Jeff’s perception of love? It’s his views, let him be!”
               Y/N crosses her arms, “Jeff is spouting nonsense. I just felt the need to correct him.”
               “How would you know Jeff is spouting nonsense? You’re not the one who fell in love with his neighbor he used to scream at across his flat.”
               Y/N looks down at her shoes, “Okay…I’m sorry. I know, I know, I’m being a bitch again.”
               Yoongi gapes at her, “W-wait, are you apologizing? You? The great Y/N L/N?”
               Y/N whips her head to him, pinning him with a glare, “Why? You think I’m incapable of apologizing?”
               “Nope,” Yoongi quips, smiling, “I’m just thinking how fast you grew. It was just two days ago you’re struggling so hard to apologize. Now, you just easily admitted to your mistake. I’m proud of you.”
               Y/N’s jaw goes slack. “Are you saying I’m an unapologetic bastard to everyone before?”
               “To me actually,” Yoongi corrects. “But that was back then. You’re quite…more okay now.”
               Y/N gawks at him in disbelief. But before she could utter another counter-statement, Yoongi’s already in front of the cashier, ordering for another platter of tacos. When they got back to their seats, the past conversation seems to have already dissipated. Yoongi starts the conversation this time about what they used to do in high school and college and soon enough, their table is erupting with giggles and high-pitched ‘Oh no you didn’t!” Y/N learned Jeff used to study in an art school. Seojoon used to join competitive pep squad rallies in college. And, Dana chose Travel Loca from a lot of tempting job offers because like Y/N, Dana likes Nancy’s vision for travel journalism as a travel-enthusiast like herself. Likewise, the three were enthusiastic in knowing Y/N—how she managed to skip two years of high school, her one-sided love for music because she cannot, for the life of her, play even a single instrument, and how she has so many random facts about the flower language, color theories, cooking techniques—hell even some trivia about the praying mantis—all because of reading a lot of books. Yoongi even chipped in of how great she can turn scenarios in a completely different one just because of her creative way of seeing things, to which Y/N blushes. The memory of their fast food drive-in date oddly makes her insides queasy.
              It’s been a while since Y/N felt she belonged to a group that values her skills and preferences. Moreover, to have Yoongi be so generous in hyping her up whenever it’s her turn to speak makes her feel a blanket of warmth is surrounding her. A warmth much heart-fluttering than the one provided by his arm embracing her shoulder and his occasional hand-holding. When she first felt his pinky reaching for hers, Y/N’s first instinct was to move away. But the tingling heat creeping onto her cheeks oddly makes her not want to let go. Moreso when Yoongi finally envelops her whole hand with his larger one.
               Y/N doesn’t know how long they last like that but when Yoongi moves to disentangle himself from her, Y/N feels the warmth in her chest fade too fast than she liked. She turns to him curious, before her eyes glance at the wall clock of the restaurant in the corner. It’s already one forty-five. She didn’t know the time has passed so fast. Yoongi gets up from his seat, “You can go ahead outside. I’ll just get something from the cashier.”
               Y/N looks at him with a questioning gaze. Nevertheless, she turns back to her seat and wordlessly follows Dana, Jeff, and Seojoon as they exit the restaurant. Once outside, Dana suddenly turns toward her.
               “You and Mr. Min look like you’re still newbies in dating.”
               Y/N’s eyes widen, “U-uh, how did you say so?”
               “Because you two look like you’re still tiptoeing around each other whenever one initiates some skinship,” Dana shrugs. “Don’t worry. It’s always like that at the start of a relationship.”
               “Yeah. You two might want to start transferring the intensity in your eyes to some physical touchy-touching,” Seojoon suggests, only to get playfully hit on the head by Jeff. Seojoon rubs the sore spot, “What? I’m just saying the truth! It’s normal to crave physical intimacy. Touching and being near someone you love is an inherent need!”
               “Yeah, but they’re just starting, Seojoon,” Jeff reiterates. He turns to Y/N, “Why don’t you try going to a bar?”
               “A bar?” Y/N asks, eyes wide.
               “Yeah, a bar. There’s a nice one along 11th Avenue. Neo-Cloud 9. Great place and drinks, cheap price. Oh, and amazing music. Their DJs don’t play the typical LSD-inducing club music. You two need to loosen up, you know? It’s not good to always hole yourselves at work. And also,” a Cheshire smile grows on Jeff’s lips, “Yoongi loves to drink alcohol after a long day. He just seems like the bar-type of a guy.”
               Before Y/N can ask what he means, the door of the restaurant swings open. Yoongi grins at them, “Let’s get going now.” The three nod and walk ahead, Jeff and Seojoon laughing about something again with Dana playfully hitting them to tell them to shut up. 
              Yoongi walks ahead of Y/N to turn around and walk backward on the pavement, facing the girl. Y/N raises a brow at him. 
              Yoongi grins and pulls out a pale pink envelope before falling back into step with her. “I thought of asking for a date document since we’re quite being handsy in there. Good thing the cashier saw it, too. Even said we’re cute for being shy in holding each other’s hands.” Yoongi wiggles his brows, smirking. “Didn’t know we’re being cute, sweetheart.”  
              “…Yeah,” Y/N looks away, lips pursed.
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               “Are you sure you want to date here?”
               The street is bustling alive. Neon signs hang from all walls and awnings. Street arts bask in matte or glow-in-the-dark spray paint. The smell of alcohol, cigarette stench, and the delicious smell of sizzling plates compound together and yet it isn’t acrid to the nose; it’s oddly alluring. All the stars in the sky seem to have fallen down on the streets because all sorts of lights try to illuminate every inch of the pavement. It’s 11th Avenue. The place with different people from all sorts of places. Foreigners and locals piling in different corners. There are people who look newly-legal, celebrating their privilege in reaching 21. And there are some dressed over-the-top, ready to spend the whole night getting wasted. Bands of friends also jump into the mix, hoping to have fun clubbing and drinking and maybe meeting someone new. And there are also people who look like they’ve just gotten off from work. Like them.
               Y/N turns to Yoongi, unbuckling her seat belt. “Yeah, I’m sure.”
               The interior of Neo-Cloud 9 is far from its name. Y/N expected to have all sorts of pleasure-in-bottles lined up like the perfect temptation, a pit filled with heavenly decors and people, a place you wouldn’t want to get out of. But what she only gets is a classic bar and club, walls painted in grey softened by the bright moving lights. A marble-black bar stands in the right corner containing all sorts of imaginable liquor. The floor is carpeted in starry black, and the seats and booths are covered in lush-looking leather. There are people in dressy suits seated comfy in their faux silver tables in one corner, and there are some moving to the beat on the dance floor. But the bar doesn’t look wild or something that could scream fantastical luxury, much less ‘Cloud 9.’ Jeff must be right. This looks like a good place with good drinks, all for a cheap price. 
               It doesn’t take long for Y/N to find themselves seated in a booth, a footed pilsner of mojito in front of her a shot glass and a bottle of tequila in front of Yoongi. 
               Y/N takes small sips of her drink. Yoongi downs a shot. He picks up the lime on the plate and chews on it. When he’s finished a piece of his chaser, he looks at Y/N. “Why did you want to go here?”
               “Well…I’ve never been to a bar before.”
               “You’ve never been to a bar?” Yoongi gawks, placing his glass down on the table. “Like, ever?”
               “Nope.” Y/N places her glass on the table and looks at Yoongi, “And I’ve never drunk any alcohol before.”
               “This is your first time?”
               “Yup. My parents told me not to drink while I’m studying. And coincidentally, I’ve never liked the concept of drinking so…good for them. I’ve never liked parties and places like this.”
               “Then why did we go here?”
               “Because Jeff told me you like to drink.”
               “I do like drinking,” Yoongi nods, “but I wouldn’t insist to go here if you never liked places like this.”
               “Yeah, I don’t like places like this. But it doesn’t hurt to get at least experience from it, right?” Y/N raises her brows and sips on her glass.
               Silence fills the space between them. Y/N orders another glass of mojito. And another. Yoongi warns her she might get drunk too fast. /N disagrees and the stable tone in her voice supports her argument. Meanwhile, Yoongi had already tried raising a conversation topic about five times now. “Another person to rant about in high school?” “Any memories of childhood?” “What got you into loving writing?”—hell, he even tried to pick a fight by bringing up Y/N’s predicament under Nancy, but all of them ended in conversational dead-ends. Either Y/N answers in replies designed for the finality of a conversation, or she switches the topic to a trivial one, such as what he thinks of Kylie Jenner’s plastic surgeries. What only seems to pass through were shallow one-worded answer questions.
               “Uno or Monopoly?”
               “Uno.”
               It’s even fortunate if Yoongi could get Y/N to expand her answer.
               “Would you rather be a…book or a car?”
               “What does that even mean?” Y/N cackles.
               “Just answer!”
               “Okay, a book!”
               But it’s fine for him. It’s better than having nothing.
               “Okay, do you dislike…being sweaty?”
               “Nope. You?”
               “Also no,” Yoongi chuckles. He crosses his arms on the table, “Do you like to play crane games in arcades?”
               “Hmm, yes…But only if someone will win it for me. I suck at it. And it’s a waste of money, too,” Y/N bites on a chip. “What about you? Do you like playing it?”
               “Not if I’m alone. If I had somebody with me, I sure like it. I love feeling somebody getting thrilled with me.”
              Y/N looks down at her glass. She traces its rim with a finger, “We’ve already got four date documents.”
               “Yeah,” Yoongi brings up his glass to his mouth. “But why are you suddenly bringing it up?”
              “Just clarifying what we’re here for.”
              Yoongi’s hand stills.
              Y/N sighs, “We have to keep our eyes on the goal, okay? After all, we’re just doing this stuff to get approved for the PRS-change.” Y/N focuses her eyes on her hands, “We’re doing okay with the date documents. But we need to worry about the accounts of our relationship witnesses. I’ve only got Mina and of course, Ms. Teddy. But that’s only two. We need eight more—”
              “We only need five more,” Yoongi places down his glass on the table, “We’ve already got Dana, Jeff, and Seojoon roped in, too. Actually, four more, because Ms. Yoona already believes we’re into each other the day I re-introduced you. We already have six.”
              “How are you sure about that?”
              “Didn’t Ms. Yoona bid you good luck with me?”
              Y/N’s jaw falls slack. “H-how did you know that? I-I thought you only heard Jeff and Seojoon that night?”
              “I was already standing near the door. Of course, I heard everything. That’s why I know you’re denying we’re into each other. Put us up to fail,” Yoongi meets her eyes, “Again.”
              Y/N stares at him.
              “We’ve already got Dana, Seojoon, and Jeff for sure. Dana was asking me earlier about the intimacy in the break room yesterday. Seojoon and Jeff eat up any gossip Dana feeds them. Plus, those three are my friends. So if we’ll need to be desperate, I can put up an act and request them to write for us.”  Yoongi looks away and downs a shot, “But I think what we did in the restaurant was already enough. I don’t know what other act could be more convincing than that.” 
              Y/N hums. After that, silence again. It doesn’t last long though, not until her 5th order of mojito is placed on their table. But instead of uttering a word, Y/N makes a move to snatch the shot glass of tequila in front of Yoongi. 
              “What are you doing?” Yoongi raises a brow, placing his glass farther away from her reach.
              Y/N only continues to make grabby hands at him. “I’ve only been drinking cocktails this whole night. Wanna taste some hard liquor, too, y’know?”
              “Y/N,” Yoongi sighs, “You’re gonna get drunk. Your house is far from here.”
              “So?” Y/N tilts her head. “You borrowed Steven’s car tonight. You’re gonna drive me home anyway. Drunk or not.”
              “Yeah, but you told me earlier Mina is gonna sleep over at Mark’s. And I cannot carry you up to your apartment—should you get drunk— because if you’re wasted, you cannot confirm to your security you actually know me if I were to help you get in your flat. And that  won’t ever happen because not in a million years will I carry your fat ass in any possible chance—” 
              “Yaddah, yaddah, blah, blah, blah,” Y/N leans forward on the table. “You always have something to say, no, Yoongi?”
              Yoongi clicks his tongue. “As if you’re not also like that.”
              “You don’t need to worry,” Y/N waves off. “Surprisingly, I’m not yet drunk. See?”
              Yoongi gulps. It’s hard to argue otherwise if Y/N knows she indeed looks and sounds very sober.
              “So,” Y/N reaches for his shot glass again, “why can’t you just let me have a taste of tequila? It’s my first time after all. I just wanna experience what I’ve missed on during high school and college.”
              That’s all it takes for Yoongi to sigh and finally relent. Soon enough, Y/N is almost bouncing on her seat as she triumphantly places the tequila-filled shot glass in front of her. With a grin, Y/N picks a lime on the saucer and hovers it above her drink and—
               Yoongi catches her elbow. “That’s not how you do it.” He scoots across the booth to sit next to her. He gets the lime from her hands, “You don’t drop the lime in your drink like you’re trying to make lime water. You dip your hand in salt first and suck it.” He pushes the plate of salt towards her. 
              Y/N looks at him funny. Yoongi rolls his eyes. “You said this is your first time drinking. I’m just trying to teach you how it’s supposed to go so it would taste better. Look,” Yoongi points to her shot glass, “the tequila is distilled so it has a high percentage of alcohol. It’s a hard liquor and will definitely make a different burn in your throat than your mojitos. The salt is gonna lessen that burn. Now, just dip a finger in the salt and suck it.”
              Y/N gives him one more suspicious look but follows nevertheless. 
              “Now, take a shot of your tequila.”
              Y/N smiles, placing the rim of the glass on her lips. She closes her eyes and tilts her head back, downing the drink in one go. When she looks back at Yoongi, indeed, a different burn is lining down her throat. It felt like someone lit a match inside her esophagus and let the flame lick the muscles and nerves of her neck. 
              Before Y/N could let her jaw drop and ask Yoongi what the fuck did she just take in, Yoongi places the slice of lime next to her lips. “Bite on the lime.” She looks at him. Yoongi’s shoulder is brushing next to hers. He’s leaning close to her, face hovering hers. Just an inch more and her nose will graze the tip of his nose. He’s also got his hand close on her face. She could feel his thumb almost brush her lips as he holds the lime in front of her. And his eyes—Y/N tears her gaze from him. She snatches the lime from his hand and bites on it.
               Yoongi pulls away, chuckling, “See? It tasted much better now. The sourness of lime balances and enhances the flavor of tequila.”
               Y/N only nods.
               They spend the rest of the night with Yoongi teaching her different terms in drinking, and her trying out sips of the drinks Yoongi orders for himself. It was all okay. Y/N’s having fun, learning and enjoying the drinks. It’s a wonder she’s still sober considering it’s her first time drinking and she’s already got a couple of drinks down her system. Her eyes are still steady, her posture stable. Heck, her voice even sounds as if it a minute has only passed since they entered Neo-Cloud 9. 
               “C’mon, Yoongi, let’s dance.”
               Yoongi should have not been over-confident in his perceptions. The moment Y/N steps out from her side, she stumbles toward him, almost completely faceplanting on his chest.
               “Y/N,” Yoongi pushes her up, “You’re drunk. Fuck, I told you you’re gonna get drunk. I think we should head home now—” 
               “No! Wanna dance, Min Yoongi!” Y/N suddenly stands upright, almost tripping on her shoes. She grins, “Let’s just do one song and after that Imma go home. Please, Yoongi?”
               “Y/N—”
               “Please, Yoongiiiii?” Y/N clasps her hands together, “Pleassseee?” 
               “Y/N—”
               “Just one song! Or else I would call you mean Yoongi from now on,” she crosses her arms, “Just one is all I’m asking. Wanna experience that party feel for the very first time. We don’t even have to do a rave dance. We can just slow dance if you like!”
               This is the reason why Yoongi finds himself dancing something akin to waltz to a song about partying as if it’s 2012. It’s not that bad, though. Not when he’s not alone dancing un-synced to the song with Y/N almost completely hanging on his limbs like a sloth. Some occasional seconds, she even gets the audacity to place her head on his chest. Yoongi cannot help but pull a small smile on his lips.
               The lights above the dance floor are in the colors of sunset and dawn and they move and merge like cells undergoing mitosis. It feels simultaneously alienating and comforting and Y/N isn’t really sure if she likes it or not. She just feels warm all over. Warm in her toes. Warm in her belly. Warm in her throat. Warm in her hands. Warm in her chest. Just…warm. Too comfortingly warm and she doesn’t know if it’s all just thanks to the alcohol. 
               “Hey, Y/N, the song is about to end now.”
               “Just one more,” Y/N mutters. She places her head against his shoulder.
               Yoongi hums. The song finally changes. A few beats in and Y/N stops in her tracks.  It’s The Louvre by Lorde.
              But lover, you’re the one to blame, all that you’re doing
              Can you hear the violence?
              Megaphone to my chest.
               Y/N looks up. Yoongi’s face is above her, almost hovering hers. The warm sunset-colored lights pass over his features, highlighting the seeming stylishness of his unkempt hair, the small existent ridges on his plump cheeks, and the soft-looking curve of his lips that’s more often than not pulled to the side to tease her. But tonight, he’s just smiling, and his lips look so soft under the pink light. His hand covering hers felt so big and yet unnervingly un-foreign. It’s only calming. His eyes are soft, gentle, dare she say warm even. 
              And for one second, it didn’t seem the calming warmth she was feeling was because of the alcohol. Because the warmth she feels is akin to the soothing radiance of early mornings. Warm like the heat between hand-held mugs shared over a small table with knees bumping next to each other. Warm like the tepid comfort a thick blanket provides to counter the thunderstorm incessantly knocking on the window panes. Warm like the lukewarm water of a hot tub one prepares after coming home from a long day at work. It’s hot, but not too hot to immediately withdraw a finger from.
              It wasn’t the alcohol anymore because the warmth she feels comes from Yoongi. She knows for sure because when her hand withdraws from his skin, the calming warmth that has surrounded her immediately dissipates. 
              The realization dawns on her and suddenly, Y/N feels her throat is being laced up close. A choked out sob, and Y/N is hunching over, form minimizing on the floor as she tries to wheeze out a sharp breath.
              “Y/N! What’s wrong? Are you okay?!” Yoongi panics. He holds her close to him, arms looping around her figure to keep her upright next to him. But Y/N shakily pushes him away.
              Arms-width away from him, hands clutching tightly on his shoulders, Y/N looks up at him. “Yoongi, you have to stop being like this.”
              “L-like what? Holding you to not let you fall over?”
              “No,” Y/N shakes her head. “You have to stop trying to get so close to me.”
              Yoongi stops. 
              Y/N lets out a staggered breath. “Just, please don’t, Yoongi.”
              “Y/N—”
              A tear slips from her eyes. “I can’t fall one more time, Yoongi. I’ve had enough already. I can’t…I can’t take another one. So please…don’t cross anymore of the space I put between us. Or even let me do the same. You can insult me whatever you want, just,” Y/N lets out a broken sigh, “don’t do this to me. Please.”
              No words are exchanged after that. Y/N lets herself in the car. Yoongi follows suit. The night goes on devoid of any sound save for the revving of the engine. When they pull out from the colorful streets of 11th Avenue, the distant pink lights of Neo-Cloud 9 become Y/N’s last memory as she slumps her head against the car window. Soon enough, the world goes black. Her breaths finally even out.
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DAY 6 – January 31; Friday
               When Y/N peels her eyes open, a rounded moon-looking light fixture set on a powder blue ceiling is the first thing she sees. The second thing that enters her vision is the white bedside table on her left. She’s never seen these things before. Y/N sits up in a jolt. White wooden cabinets, a metal gray desk, black office swivel chair, light grey faux wooden tiles—these are definitely not in her room. She instantly looks down on her body. A white and blue striped pajama. Panic starts to rise in her stomach.  Where the fuck am I—
               The door bursts open and a head of a male she’s never seen before pops up. He smiles at her. “Oh, you’re finally awake. You can take a shower now. Yoongi’s just finished showering. Your clothes are already on the hangers in the bathroom. Mom’s got them washed and pressed already.” The man walks away only to come back as if he’s forgotten something. “Oh yeah, we’re also having breakfast so…come join us when you’re done?” The furrows on Y/N’s forehead deepen. The man beams, “O-oh, and I’m Yoongi’s brother, Jeongguk.”
               Yoongi? Jeongguk? Why is Yoongi’s brother inviting her for breakfast when she hasn’t even heard of him before—Y/N freezes. The answer finally dawns upon her and Y/N could only internally pull all the hair off her head. Oh my god, what the hell am I doing in Yoongi’s home?!
               Twenty minutes later and Y/N finds herself in a circular table with the very question in her head the first thing uttered out when she sits on her chair.
              “So Y/N,” Yoongi’s father smiles at her, “How did you end up here?”
               “Um—”
               “Dad, I thought already told you yesterday?” Yoongi interrupts. Y/N looks at the man across her. He looks like he didn’t dry himself well. The ends of his hair are still wet. There’s also a damp spot on the chest area of the white crew-neck shirt he’s wearing under his navy blazer. Y/N gulps. She should not let her eyes linger on that damp spot for too long.
               “Yeah, son, I know,” Yoongi’s father chuckles as he slices into his scrambled eggs. He turns to Y/N. “I’m just messing with you, dear.”
               “Y-yeah. I totally understand, Mr. Min,” Y/N tries to chuckle.
               “Oh, don’t call me that. Just call me ‘dad.’ We’re gonna get close anyway.”
               Yoongi’s eyes bulge out. “What the hell—Dad!”
               Mr. Min laughs. “I’m just joking! Call me Yoonhyuk.”
               Y/N smiles politely, “Okay…Yoonhyuk.”
               “My, Yoongi,” Yoongi’s mother claps a hand on her son’s shoulder, “You seem really tense. You’re reverting back into your old high school self.”
               “Mom!”
               “Excuse my son,” Yoongi’s mother smiles at Y/N. “He used to be really tense and timid all over. Habits do really die hard. Anyway, just call me Ji-an, too. Oh, and I’m the one who changed your clothes last night so no need to worry. I just thought letting you sleep in your work clothes may be too uncomfortable. You looked like you really needed a good rest last night.”
               “It’s alright. Thank you so much, Ms. Mi—Ji-an,” Y/N smiles. Ms. Min returns a bigger charming smile. Y/N figures Yoongi’s smile must have taken after his mother’s.
               Breakfast continues on as if it was just another breakfast in the Min family. Having Yoongi’s past already brought up, Mr. Min continues on with a story of an awkward fourteen-year-old Yoongi sweating over just practicing how to give their plate of chow mien to their neighbor. Jeongguk even pitched in of how his older brother was such a wimp way back when they were kids. He said it was a wonder how Yoongi always manages to win every game when he’s always the one running like a ‘waddling duck.’ Until a year later they found out it was all thanks to the cheats Yoongi has collected. Everyone erupts into laughter. Even Yoongi who’s sulking the whole time finally breaks into cackles. 
              Y/N can’t remember the last time she had breakfast this lively. Well, she and Mina do share fun breakfasts too. But with the two of them rarely having enough time to cook meals in the morning, table breakfasts are reserved for special days. Their breakfasts usually come through sandwiches they munch on quickly at a small, cheap café near the office. Now, she’s having breakfast with people she’s never met before, and yet, a comfortable warmth settles over her, making her feel las if she’s meeting people she had long been friends with.  The feeling is strange, but Y/N decides she’s more than welcome to entertain it.
              The breakfast ends sooner than Y/N would like to admit and it isn’t by long she bids her goodbyes to the Min family after she finishes helping Ms. Min clean up. She expresses her gratitude once more to Mr. and Mrs. Min before following Yoongi to the car.
              When they pull away from the driveway, Yoongi finally says his first words of the day to her. “I’m sorry you may have been shocked this morning. I drove you to your apartment but I wasn’t able to get you into your flat because you don’t have your keys. The security stationed doesn’t know alternative access and the admin’s office was long closed. So, I have no other option but to drive you home with me. Well, you were actually the one who insisted to drive you to my home, so yeah, here we are.” 
              “I…insisted to go to your home?”
              Yoongi looks at her, “You don’t remember?”
“Yah, Y/N, stop messing with my hair,” Yoongi huffs as he tries to balance the girl latched onto his back while rummaging through her bag for her keys.
“I’m not messing it up. I’m styling it!” Y/N grabs two handfuls of hair. Yoongi nearly topples onto the floor from the hard tug on his scalp. Y/N only squeals, “See? You look like Garu now! Not Pucca. You only smile when you’re smug!”
“Y/N, stop messing with me,” Yoongi grits, hands frantically turning all the items in the woman’s bag over and over again. “Fuck, there’s no keys. Y/N, where the hell did you put your keys?”
“I don’t knoooow.”
Y/N starts to slip on his back. Before he could hoist her up though, the girl locks her elbows around his neck, knocking the wind out of his windpipe. Yoongi didn’t know what getting strangled really feels like until now. Y/N giggles, “Oh, I know now! I slipped it in in my pouch! The one with my ballpens. I think I must have left it in the office because I’m not yet done with my report when we went off…”
Yoongi drags a hand over his face, “Fuck. What the hell will I do with you now?”
Y/N props her head on his shoulder and grins, “Take me home to your home?”
               Yoongi gapes at Y/N. “You seriously don’t remember?”
               Y/N slowly shakes her head, “I don’t.”
Yoongi plops Y/N back onto the passenger’s seat before he sits himself back into the driver’s seat. The moment Yoongi drives away from the 27th street, Y/N decides it’s a brilliant idea to latch herself onto the man’s arm.
“Y/N, what the hell are you doing?” Yoongi tries to gently pull his arm away from her. Y/N only keeps her grip on him and decides to put her head on his shoulder. Yoongi sighs in defeat.
“I’m being happy!” Y/N grins, “You and I are gonna have a sleepover!”
“This is not a sleepover,” Yoongi gives her a pointed look, “You’re drunk and I’m just being a Good Samaritan letting you stay over in my house because your poor ass got nowhere to go.”
“Doesn’t matter. It’s still a sleepover because we’ll sleep in your room.”
“I am NOT letting you sleep in my room. You’re gonna sleep on the couch.”
Y/N’s eyes grow wide, “No! We’re gonna sleep in your room! Friends sleep in one room during sleepovers.”
“So now, you’re finally admitting we’re friends?” Yoongi smirks. He doesn’t know why he’s letting this pointless conversation go on when the person he’s speaking to is just running on autopilot. But when Y/N looks at him in complete focus and opens her mouth, Yoongi can’t help but anticipate for what she has to say.
“Why?” Y/N tilts her head, “Aren’t we already friends? Weren’t you the one who kept bugging me about it?”
Yoongi looks away and keeps his eyes ahead, “Well…yeah.”
“Then why won’t you let me sleep in your room?”
Yoongi clicks his tongue, “Just because.”
“Is it because you hate me?”
“No, it’s not because of that.”
“Then, is it because I annoyed you today?”
“Well, you did annoy me. A lot.” Yoongi sighs, “Okay, a bit. A teeny, tiny bit. But, it’s also not because of that.”
“Then what is it?” Y/N whines.
Yoongi doesn’t answer.
“Is it because I’m supposed to actually rat on any mistake of your team to Nancy?”
Still silence.
“Then…is it because I’m ugly?”
Yoongi whips his head toward her, “What?”
Y/N looks down at her lap, “People say no one wants to be with me because no one likes my face. They say it’s too intimidating. That I’m too intimidating and no one wants to be with someone like that.” Y/N glances at the side mirror, “Didn’t help that everyone practically hates me because of how firm I stand with my values. High school was enough proof of that.”
“Well, it’s not everyone. You got Mina—”
“Of course, I got Mina. She’s always by my side. So, she’s out of the question.”
“I’m not yet done,” Yoongi chuckles, “You do love getting ahead of everybody, no?”
Y/N pouts and faces straight ahead, crossing her arms.
“As I was saying, you got Mina and me.”
It’s Y/N’s turn to snap back towards him, eyes wide. “What do you mean?”
“You said before I’m not just anybody,” Yoongi shrugs. “Might as well live up to that.”
The quiet air settles over again. Only the sounds of the city zooming past them and Y/N’s occasional snores fill the gaps of silence. But it doesn’t last long as they finally reached 12th street, West Drive—Yoongi’s home—because Y/N wakes up again and starts blabbering if she could tie up his hair Garu-style. Yoongi thinks the utter shock in his mother’s face when she opened the door for him and the utterly inebriated girl on his back is something he will never forget. And probably Y/N’s face, too, which brightened up when Yoongi told her she can have his room.
“Are you serious?” Y/N squeals, already on her knees on his mattress, ready to jump around. She looks like a five-year-old and it doesn’t help that his striped blue and white pajamas make her look, dare he say, cute.
“Yes, I am,” Yoongi replies. He closes the door for a second to see his mother in the hallway.
Ji-an places Y/N’s clothes on their hamper before addressing him. “Been a while since you brought a friend over.”
“Yeah,” Yoongi nervously smiles as he rubs his nape. “Sorry this was unannounced, mom. I drove her to her place but she forgot her keys at work and her flatmate’s also gone for the night. I don’t know what to do so I just brought her here.”
“Hey, it’s okay. I don’t mind,” Ji-an smiles. “I was just surprised. I didn’t know Thursday nights are now a drinking night.”
“Mom!” Yoongi playfully claps his mother’s shoulder. Ji-an only laughs. When her chuckles die down, she fondly looks at her son, “I was just curious what made you drink out on a Thursday night. I thought friend’s night-outs are for Fridays.”
“Today was just a special case. Y/N wanted to try drinking for the first time. She dragged me to teach her what she’s missed out on college and high school.” Yoongi looks at his closed door, a warm smile forming on his face. “I didn’t know someone at 25 has not yet been to a bar before.” 
“Then, I’m glad you’ve accompanied her.”
Yoongi looks at his mother, brows furrowed, “What do you mean?”
“It’s also been a while since I’ve seen you smile like that,” Ji-an pulls her lips into a knowing smile. “You smile a lot with us. But it’s been ages since I saw that smile again. It makes me happy it’s back.”
“What…smile, mom?”
“Oh, you know it already,” Ji-an pats his shoulder. “By the way, where are you gonna sleep?”
“I’ll make camp in the living room. I have your fluffy pillows and blanket with me…Thanks, mom.” Yoongi gives her an appreciative smile. 
“Okay then,” Ji-an returns his smile, “Goodnight, son.” Yoongi kisses her cheek goodnight and then she resigns back into their room. 
Yoongi plops himself on the floor beside his bed. Y/N rolls over to poke at his shoulder, “What took you so long outside? I thought this is a sleepover. Also, what are you doing with that?” she points to the binder the man is holding.
Yoongi continues flipping through the pages. It’s an album of his days back in high school. He always pulls it out whenever he gets the sudden urge to feel nostalgic. Most often than not, the fuzzy feeling after drinking gives that urge. Yoongi mutters, “I’m looking through it so you’ll get bored of messing with me and finally sleep.”
“You know, Yoongi…if I didn’t hate you, I would love to kiss you.”
Yoongi freezes in his position, “W-what?”
But it seems the alcohol took its final toll on Y/N when she rolls over to her side and bids him with a yawn, “Goodnight, Yoongi.”
Yoongi makes sure he hears her snore before he returns, “…Goodnight, too, sweetheart.”
               “You really don’t remember anything?”
               “No…?”
               Yoongi focuses back on the road. “What’s your last memory yesterday?”
               “Well, we took shots. Then after that, we danced, and—nothing. Well, you drove me here and let me sleepover so yeah,” Y/N looks down on her interlocked hands. “Thank you for that, Yoongi.”
               “You’re welcome. But do you really not remember anything? As in, anything at all?”
               “I told you I do not, okay?” Y/N throws up her hands, “How many times do I have to tell you that?!”
               Yoongi glances at her, “Not even what you said while we’re dancing at the bar?”
               “No,” Y/N sighs. “Look, I don’t remember anything from the night before, save for what I already told you. What did I even say while we’re dancing at the bar?”
               “Nothing,” Yoongi looks back at the road. “You just said you wanna stuff your nose full with mojito because you love it so much.”
               Y/N massages her temple, “Okay, that’s embarrassing. But dismissible. It’s just a stupid statement. Did something else happen?”
               “Something,” Yoongi scoffs, “Oh hell yeah, something definitely happened.”
               Y/N’s brows shot up and she screeches, “Did something happen between us?!” Yoongi almost drives the car out of their lane.
               “Jesus Christ, Y/N, do you plan on busting my ears off?” Yoongi holds a hand over his ears. “And for God’s sake, how did you even come up to that? What do you think of me? Someone who takes advantage of a drunk woman?!”
              “I didn’t say that! Okay,” Y/N reels back and sighs, “I’m sorry I implied it and for possibly offending you. I just thought maybe you got drunk, too, yesterday and we got handsy-handsy on each other. Maybe. The movies show it’s possible. And they already run a good enough forecast system for drunken mistakes.”
              “Are you seriously using movies now as a reliable reference?”
              Y/N looks away. “It wouldn’t hurt, okay. Movies reflect real life.”
              “Look, Y/N,” Yoongi looks at her with a serious face, “nothing sexual happened between us. If something actually happened between us, I wouldn’t be here in the first place. I’d probably be at a church tryna convince the priest if I could take a bath using their holy water.” 
               Y/N scowls at him, “You say that as if I’m the most horrible person in the world. Well, if you’d been a different person, you’d know I’m not so bad.”
               “Are you implying you want to have sex with me?”
               “Oh my god—NO! How the fuck did you even think about such abomination?!” 
              Yoongi wiggles his brows at her. Y/N resists the urge to slap his face. They’re currently driving. She cannot risk her life no matter how much she wants to end the man beside her.
              “But seriously speaking,” Yoongi rounds a street, “something else did happen.”
              “What is it?”
              “You actually insisted to go to my house because you wanna have a sleepover. You reasoned it’s because we’re friends.” Yoongi glances at her, “And you told me you wanted to kiss me.”
              Y/N’s jaw falls wide open, “Oh my god, your imagination cannot be any weirder than it already is, huh? ‘Friends’? ‘Kiss you’? Never in a million years would I want that!” Y/N scoffs, “Even if I’m drunk, I know I wouldn’t say that! Your delusions are getting worse, Yoongi.”
              “Say all that you want. Still doesn’t negate what transpired yesterday,” Yoongi sing-songs.
              “Look,” Y/N shifts in her seat to turn to Yoongi, “I’m grateful you had me in your home and welcomed me so warmly. And I know I’m enjoying a lot of favors right now. But one more wouldn’t hurt, okay?” Y/N sighs and closes her eyes, “Can we just forget whatever happened yesterday?”
              “Nope.”
              “What do you mean ‘nope’?!”
              “Nope, as in, we cannot forget what we know happened. It’s impossible, biologically and realistically speaking. Our brains are not designed with an undo button. Unless we already have early onset of Alzheimer’s. Though I think I wouldn’t worry about that because I’m young and happy. You’re the one who should actually worry because you look old and that’s because you didn’t enjoy life—”
              “Okay, I get you! It’s impossible to forget! But can we just never speak about what happened yesterday?!” 
              Yoongi shrugs, “Depends.”
              Y/N’s brows scrunch together, “What do you mean ‘depends’?”
              “If it would be non-advantageous for me, sure, I won’t speak about it. But right now, it’s definitely advantageous for me because I can use it as blackmail material to finally convince you you wanted to be friends, and that in fact, we are indeed already friends.”
              “Min Yoongi—!”
              A ringtone bursts loud in the car. It’s a Japanese song. And it sounds very much like an opening OST for a shounen action anime.
              “Are you fricking serious—”
              “Ssh!”  Y/N holds up an index to Yoongi’s lips. She breaks into a smile, “Oh hello, Ms. Nancy. I-I mean,” Y/N glances at her watch and does quick math, “good afternoon!” Fuck time differences.
               The person on the other end of the line doesn’t sound too pleased with the greeting though. “Where the hell are you now, Y/N?”
               “Oh, I’m at,” Y/N looks outside of the window in search of the nearest post with a street name, “uh, 1st Avenue. We’re just a couple of blocks from Rockfort now.”
               “Don’t come into the office today. I have a list of errands for you to do instead.”
               “O-okay—”
               “They’re a lot so I’m gonna e-mail them to you now. When you receive it, I hope you start on it ASAP.”
               “Of course, ma’am,” Y/N smiles. A beep at the other end serves as her reply. A ‘ding’ soon sounds in her phone and Y/N immediately checks on her notifications.
               Ms. Nancy Kim (7:45 A.M.)
Go to my house on 27th Avenue. I left some legal papers I need by 8:20 and I want you to scan them and email them to me. Use my personal computer. 
Head to the VanTae Main Office by 8:45 A.M. They’re hosting a meeting with the businesses they’ve partnered with for an interactive fashion event they’re hosting. I forgot to inform them beforehand that I’ve gone abroad but I’ve already e-mailed the CEO today that our spokesperson, Mr. Junhyung Choi, will stand for me. Help out Mr. Choi with whatever he needs, especially his presentation. 
Go to RTW Advertising’s Headquarters by 11 A.M with Mr. Choi. They need to discuss something about their future project with us. I’m gonna send you the references you’ll need to help Mr. Choi—
               Y/N immediately tucks her phone into her pocket. She’ll just read the rest on the train. She turns to the man beside her, “Yoongi park on the sidewalk.”
                “Why? But we’re going to the office—”
               “Just go to the nearest parking spot and drop me off.” Y/N smiles, “Please?”
               Yoongi sighs but nevertheless, he follows her directions and pulls up the car in front of a bicycle stand.
               Y/N gathers her bag, “Sorry this is a rush. I’m not going to the office. I need to catch the 8 A.M. train.” Y/N turns to her side to tug free her seatbelt but it won’t budge. She hears a sigh and then suddenly, there’s a hand hovering above hers, pulling more of the seatbelt from her shoulder to lessen the tension of the belt on the lock. When Y/N looks up, Yoongi’s face is so near hers that one simple movement could let her nose brush the side of his cheek. She could practically feel Yoongi’s breath sweep over her lips as he releases a sigh.
               Then Yoongi looks straight into her eyes. “Is it Nancy?”
               The lock clicks and it releases the belt. Y/N presses herself still into the corner of the car. She doesn’t know she’s holding her breath as she nods, “Y-yeah.”
               Yoongi leans back in his seat. “You sure you want to take the train? I can drive you to where you need to go. I can just hit up Ms. Yoona and tell her to take my place for the day.”
               “N-no. This is my work. I don’t want to bother you. I’ve got a list of things to do and it will keep you away from what you really needed to do.” Y/N pushes the handle and opens the door to let herself hop out. “Thanks for offering though.”
               Yoongi tilts his head and smiles. “Date you later, then?”
               Y/N’s brows meet together.
               Yoongi shrugs, “Well, we’ll see each other later and hopefully date y’know? We still need a few date documents to get. For the Heart Holiday. So yeah, date you later?”
               “Okay…date you later, too.” Y/N smiles back and then she closes the door. When she turns around, she tries to convince herself the heat on her cheeks was because of the pollution outside. Not because of Yoongi’s warm smile as she sent him off.
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               Y/N wishes she’s never said anything too early.
               The future is a concept that can hardly be determined no matter how open and flexible the patterns people have made to make sense of it. Y/N knows this and yet she still chooses to defy it. It‘s human nature anyway to try and figure out life and see how long you could last with a blueprint belief. If it turns out to be wrong, improve the belief or let it go and find a better one. But this is always easier said than done. It’s an inherent quality of dealing with things and concepts no one has complete control over. And Y/N has completely no control even on her unfortunate scenarios she has pre-determined in her head.
              All of her Thursdays have been cursed ever since her first goddamn story proposal was foiled by Min Yoongi one year ago. And suddenly, yesterday was spot-free of any unfortunate events Y/N was sober enough to fully experience. And by some unexpected discrepancy in a long-established, working pattern, everything that has to go wrong in Thursday, happened today—Friday.
               When Y/N entered the train station, a mechanical error occurred on the 8 A.M. train that caused a thirty-minute delay before a working cart could come and accommodate commuters. This fucked up Y/N’s schedule big time because she had to sprint to Nancy’s house and speed-scan the legal documents she needed in just five minutes to reach the 8:20 deadline. Of course, it didn’t work according to her plan because computers do their thing when you needed something to be rushed, they pick that exact time to not cooperate with you. Nevertheless, Y/N manages to finish the task. But all the tinge of achievement written on her face from accomplishing something was immediately slashed off when she realizes she sent the documents five minutes past the deadline. Nancy made sure she knew this when she rings her to berate her of her noncompliance with set deadlines.
               Y/N thought she could make up for her mistake by doing her best in her presentation with Mr. Choi at VanTae. But that, too, proves to be a long shot to make because before she could even try, life shuts her down. Nancy forgot to inform her VanTae was expecting themed cohesive presentations from their partners. It is with great shame she sat behind the podium where Mr. Choi is standing, flipping through each slide that was obviously embarrassingly sub-par to the other business partners in the room. And, Mr. Choi didn’t let go of the opportunity to befall the blame of today’s unimpressive performance completely on Y/N. Who wouldn’t when she’s the one in charge of making the entire presentation?
               But that wasn’t the end of it. At RTW, Mr. Choi just asked for Y/N to bring him and the manager cups of coffee. She doesn’t have to stand by his side anymore. But the heavens seem to hate her because when she enters the conference room and nears the manager, the secretary who’s placing the folders suddenly turned, bumping into Y/N. It would have been okay if the coffee spilled all over on her shirt. But No. Y/N trips on her foot and the hot, newly brewed coffee had to spill on the shirt of RTW’s manager. 
              When Nancy caught wind of what happened through Mr. Choi, she immediately slashed off Y/N’s tasks that actually involved Travel Loca and reduced it to personal, trivial errands. It’s easy and fool-proof. They’re just errands like bring Nancy’s daughter’s hardcopy of her paper to her school and write up an apology for Nancy for the parties and events she got invited to but will be unable to attend. And by some undecipherable stretch of bad luck, doing these tasks, too, has also proven to be hard. Either the transportation system will delay her for half an hour, an electronic gadget will malfunction on her, or a person in the other end of the line will find something offending in her words and turn it all against her. Y/N barely made it on time to submit the hardcopy to the school. She wasn’t able to finish encoding Nancy’s personal expenses in the tax declaration software. And two of Nancy’s friends were not satisfied with her apologies and even insulted her. When Y/N calls for the nth time about finishing a task that ended not-so-well in her favor, she knows Nancy has already busted her patience of the day for her because she just sighs and started to give her cold one-worded replies.
              And before Y/N knew it, it’s already seven. Long past working hours. Y/N’s eyes widen. Yoongi. She pulls up her phone and types a message.
              Y/N : Hey, I think I’m gonna do a raincheck on our uh date. Sorry for the late notice. I just finished my job and I don’t think I have any energy left. (7:05 P.M.)
             Mean Yoongi >:( : Why? What happened? (7:06 P.M.)
             Mean Yoongi >:( : If you don’t mind me asking, I mean? (7:06 P.M.)
             Y/N : Nothing happened. Just tired (7:06 P.M.)
             Mean Yoongi >:( : Okay, that’s fine. Take a rest. Health is always the priority (7:07 P.M.)
             Y/N : Okay. Thank you :) (7:07 P.M.)
             Mean Yoongi >:( : Date you tomorrow then? (7:07 P.M.)
             Y/N purses her lips and shrugs. 
             Y/N : Sure. Date you tomorrow (7:07 P.M.) 
             Mean Yoongi >:( : Sweet. Goodnight, sweetheart  😉 (7:07 P.M.)
             A small smile traces its way on Y/N’s face. 
             Y/N : Goodnight, too, Yoongi (7:07 P.M.)  
             However, Y/N shouldn’t have thought about finally having a good night too early. Because the cherry on top of her day is yet to happen. 
            Y/N heads to Rockfort to retrieve her keys and finally end the day. It’s already nine in the evening and she just wants to go home, plop down on her bed, and maybe cry. Out of shame or anger or both, she isn’t sure. Probably anger to Mr. Choi and a bit to Nancy because they didn’t have to belittle her in front of her face the way they did. And most probably anger to herself because she wouldn’t receive such backlash from her superiors if she didn’t fuck up. The rational part of her believes Mr. Choi and Nancy didn’t have time to consider her feelings because they were doing damage control. But still, Y/N can’t help but feel she’s been ruthlessly disregarded. She tried her best but she knows she can’t force anyone to notice it. No one really cares much about the progress. Outcomes are what only matter. It is always the end that determines whether something is worth all the effort or it was all just for naught. 
              When Y/N starts on the steps on the complex, her phone rings. 
              It’s Nancy. Y/N takes a deep breath and closes her eyes. “He-hello?”
              “Y/N, what’s the progress of the Creatives for this week?”
              “O-oh, um—”
              “You forgot to send it to me earlier this day when I clearly told you before I went overseas to make sure you keep me up-to-date by the evening. Does it look like it’s still evening, now? It’s already midnight here.” Nancy sighs, “I’m the boss and yet I have to call my employee to ask her to simply do her job. Do you see how wrong that sounds?”
              “I-I’m sorry, Ms. Nancy—”
              “Stop with the apologies. I’ve had enough of that this day. Just tell me what I’m asking from you.”
              “O-okay,” Y/N rushes to the nearest bench. It’s the one sitting under the central mango tree and Y/N hopes if it could give her at least an ounce of luck just like it always does. With hands trembling, Y/N manages to get all the pages of her report from her bag in one piece.  She flips through the papers, “U-um, well, Steven and Yoongi came up with a unique design for our feature articles. It’s inspired by the DRM’s goals and the Heart Holiday because Valentines’ week is just around the corner. A-and then the concept team is collaborating well with our artists in doing the overall theme of our issue. I could send you an email later of the samples they’ve given me—” 
              “Okay, but do you have any updates on our cover page?”
              “The-the cover page?”
              “Yes, the cover page. Did you not hear what I said?”
              Y/N feels her throat dry up. The cover page. Kim Myungsoo. Y/N has reminded him of it yesterday and he said he’s going to see if he can email it by Friday. It’s already Friday and she still hasn’t received any email. She even texted Yoongi earlier while she’s at RTW’s meeting to personally check on Myungsoo and his team. What she only received is a dejected sigh from Yoongi as he told her the team leader has taken a leave and the team members are unable to give them the proposal she needs. Y/N remembers how flawed the bureaucratic system of Travel Loca is as Yoongi informs her company rules dictate access to the reports and documents are only granted by team leaders to ensure their legibility. And since Nancy didn’t give out a statement to override this rule today, Yoongi, himself, cannot do anything. Y/N now remembers why she actually dreaded this call to come.
              “U-um, yes, Ma’am, I heard what you said. But, the thing is, uh,” Y/N taps her foot, “I wasn’t…able to make a report because Myungsoo has taken a leave and he wasn’t able to send their report of progress to me. I-I’m sorry.”
              Silence greets her. For a second, Y/N thinks the line went dead.  She realizes it was wrong to speak beforehand because, after a beat, she feels her heart drop into her stomach.
              “You never run out of excuses, do you?”
              “W-what?”
              Nancy laughs. “Oh my god, I thought I wouldn’t be any more disappointed in you today. Guess I was wrong because you have a knack for breaking my expectations, Y/N. And right now, I’m not disappointed. I’m upset.”
              “Nancy, I’m sorry—”
              “All I’ve asked from you was to give me updates on the Creatives team. And yeah, you did but you left out the most important element we really need from them—the cover page. Give me a creatives team from a magazine company that doesn’t put the central focus on the fucking cover page? Of course, you’ll get none!”
              Y/N bites her lip.
               “What are you even doing this week in the office, then, Y/N?”
               Silence.
               “Answer me, Y/N.”
               Y/N bites back a sniffle. “I-I check on each team a-and I also helped with choosing the layouts and templates they use and—”
               “Why the hell are you helping them with that? You don’t know their work. What made you think you could actually help?” Nancy scoffs, “So instead of actually doing your job, you’ve been busying yourself with pointless things.”
               Y/N could only look down on her feet.
               “You know what, Y/N. When I hired you, I thought you were different. I thought you’re someone who could shine and finally get promoted to the team you wanted to be in. Because you know I’m picky with my P.A’s. Only those who I think have the potential to deserve a promotion into a nice position in my company, or at least deserve to get my recommendation that could get them access to many reputable magazines or news companies, get hired to be my P.A.’s. And when I met you, I thought you were like that. Strong, determined, intelligent, and hard-working. But now, you’re far from that, Y/N. You’ve become so far from what I’ve known you to be. You’ve become sloppy. You’ve become someone that makes excuses instead of really working. And you didn’t improve, Y/N. Not one bit. Because your work these days is far behind from what I expect from a well-educated person. And now, you’re making me think I made a mistake I even hired you.”
               Y/N presses a hand over her mouth. It’s only then she realizes a tear has already slipped from her eyes.
                Nancy sighs, “Thank you for…whatever you did today. I just hope you’ll make up for your mistakes when I come back. I don’t want to further regret I’ve taken you to my company. Goodbye.”
               The line goes dead. The hand that holds up her phone limply falls by her side. Her legs are shaking and so are her fingers. It’s cold but it doesn’t compare to the block of frigidness that has dropped on her chest when Nancy…said those words to her. Sure, Nancy’s always been a bit harsh and strict. She’s scolded Y/N for all the times she’s failed in her job before but they were all necessary reminders that have molded her to become more professional at work. She even told her once how proud she was of how Y/N grew in her company. But tonight, her words are far from that. Nancy was brutal and Y/N could only blame herself.
              Whenever Y/N makes a mistake, she always tries to look at them objectively and never let them get to her. She’s always been able to do this all throughout high school and until she’s started working. Until tonight, because Nancy’s words are vicious and they’re too heavy to shake off. People say wondering about the ‘what if’s’ is absurd as mulling over what may have happened won’t bring anything to anyone but torment. They are reminders of a now-unattainable future and dwelling on them won’t change anything. But right now, Y/N cannot help but wonder what if she’s sent the legal papers on time? What if she made a noteworthy presentation at the meeting? What if she didn’t spill coffee on the manager? What if she’s been more aggressive in convincing Myungsoo to give her the proposal? Would anything change then?
                Y/N raises a hand to wipe off the wetness that has trailed on her cheek. It immediately turns futile because the moment she presses a hand over her eyes, she lets out a sob and tear after tear slips through her fingers. Her mother has told her she’s always had shallow tears. Y/N has worked so long to prove her wrong. That she’s not weak. That she’s not easy to fall over when someone comes too close to knock her down. That she’s strong, that she could get by on her own and she could be someone no one could even attempt to hurt. But now, she’s reduced to this: a crying mess of a girl sitting on some bench for everyone to see. She doesn’t know what to do anymore and—
               “Hey, what are you still doing here?”
               Y/N looks up. Tears only seem to accumulate more on her eyes when she sees it’s—
               “Wait, why are you crying?”
               “Yoongi.” Y/N breaks into a sob and before another second passes, Yoongi’s already by her side, looping his arms around her shaking frame, her face pressed close to his chest. He cards his fingers through her hair as he coos at her, but that only seems to spur more sobs to fall from her lips.
               “I’m so-sorry I’m crying like this—”
               “Let it out.” Yoongi hugs her closer to him, “Just let it out. It’s okay.”
               That’s all it took for Y/N to let everything out. She cries against Yoongi’s chest, hands clutching tightly on his coat. Sobs rock upon her frame but Yoongi only holds her tight, swaying a bit as if to lull her from the suffocating toll of her cries. He doesn’t ask anything. He just stays by her side, whispering by her ear, “it’s alright,” “I’m here,” and “You’re not alone.” For the first time that day, all thoughts of ‘what ifs’ halt in her head.
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               The night outside is getting colder by each second. Y/N could make out fogged up spots on the car window. When her finger meets the glass, she doesn’t jolt from the cold. The heater of the car is on. She draws a star. She thinks she’s lucky. She remembers she is when her eyes glance at the back, upon the paper bag containing empty, reusable take-out containers.
               “So…what happened today?”
               Y/N turns back to the front. Yoongi’s arms are firm on the wheel. He spares her a glance before focusing his eyes back on the road, “Of course, if you feel…more okay now to answer it.”
               Y/N bites her lip. It’s been an hour ago since they silently sat on the bench. And a half-hour after that, she and Yoongi shared dinner over something as trivial as listing the most annoying movies they’ve ever watched. And now, a couple of minutes have already passed in the car with them back in complete silence. Yoongi hasn’t said anything about what happened by the mango tree until now and so did Y/N. But she knows it’s an elephant weighing too big in the car not to address it. 
               Y/N sighs. “W-well, Nancy has given me a lot of errands to do. And…everything just didn’t go according to plan and I guess, it was just…the last straw for me.”
              “I see,” Yoongi hums, glancing at her before directing his eyes back on the road.
              Y/N wrings her hands together. She closes her eyes. “Okay, I got…scolded today by Nancy because I messed up with the things she asked me to do. Of course, she has every right to—”
              “What did she say to you?”
              Y/N looks up at him then she quickly returns her gaze on her hands. “N-nothing. She just…expressed her disappointment about me especially when she learned I cannot give her any updates about the cover page.”
              “So you got lashed out on for Myungsoo’s uncooperating ass?”
              Y/N whips her head to him, “No, I-I didn’t get lashed out—”
              “Y/N, stop lying to me.” Yoongi looks at her. “I know Nancy. I’ve been her P.A., too. And when she’s upset, she lashes out. And when she does, she goes way all over the line.” He looks back onto the street. “Why are you even trying to defend her when she obviously stepped over the line again? This is what I don’t like about—” Yoongi stops and sighs, “What are you going to do about Myungsoo?”
              “I’ll…e-mail him tomorrow and convince him to send the proposal to me.”
              “So you’re not even going to reprimand him for letting you unjustly receive backlash because of him?
              “N-no,” Y/N looks at him, brows scrunched. “I don’t want to make unnecessary enemies here and let my temper get the better of me—”
              “So you just don’t stand up against them? What does that make me, then? I’m your free estate for that pent-up anger?”
              Silence.
              Yoongi sighs, “Fuck, I’m sorry. That’s out of the line.”
              “It’s okay…I’m sorry, too. I’ve also been unfair to you.”
              “I’m just—I’m so frustrated why you can’t stand up for yourself around these people just like you do to me. You can’t always let them have their way, Y/N. Superior or not.”
              Y/N remains unmoving in her seat. Yoongi looks at her slumped figure in the seat and he decides to drop the subject. Silence takes hold of their car again. Yoongi tries to elevate the mood by talking about how he’s already on the 30th episode of Naruto. He said he didn’t expect he’ll find it to be that great “since the popular animes are usually overrated.” He even chipped in how he can’t find Sakura annoying even if a lot of fans hated her. Y/N didn’t say anything but a small smile starts to form on her lips. It’s more than enough for Yoongi to thank the heavens he didn’t totally ruin the night.
              When they round the 20th street, Y/N finally decides to speak.
              “S-sorry I wasn’t able to say thank you for earlier so—thank you, Yoongi. For the dinner and for the…thing you did on the bench.”
              “It’s okay,” Yoongi pulls a small smile. “It’s what friends do.”
               Y/N’s eyes shoot up to him and Yoongi only lets his smile grow. It’s that smile. That same smile he gave her when he’s offering to watch Naruto for her to watch Slam Dunk. That same smile he flashed her when he told her to put her arms around his neck as he let her experience her first dance she never had. That same smile that sent warmth spreading all over her chest and tingles running down to her toes.  Just like right now. Y/N swallows the nervousness building in her throat. 
              She turns around in her seat and takes it everything in herself to make her voice sound as beaming as it can be. “Hey, how about we go to that fast food and get one date document before the night ends? It looks so nice and I-I feel bad we didn’t do anything today and—”
               “No. I’m driving you to your home.”
               Y/N gapes at the man. “B-but you said we’ll date later—”
               “We could always get a date document any other time. You’re tired. You need to rest.”
               “But—”
               “Y/N, you should stop turning your back to things you should actually be facing,” Yoongi looks at her. “Right now, you should let yourself rest.”
               The rest of the ride was silent. As Y/N fiddles with the cuffs of her button-down, she cannot help but mull over what Nancy has said earlier. Should she give up her plan for the Heart Holiday to make up for her mistakes today? Of course, when Nancy hears about her absence at work when she goes back to the office, she’ll definitely be disappointed. She could even fire her. Y/N cannot bear to have that. She’s invested two years of her life in Travel Loca. She knows she’s having a hard time living in her current place—doing something she doesn’t love in the field she’s desired for how many years. But she will rather have it than start all over again, most likely work somewhere more comfortable but far from the thing she loves—writing.  It’s already hard to start on your desired field. Of course, it would be more heart-wrenching if you had to start from scratch again. 
               Y/N knows it’s sensible and rational to drop her plan now. She knows she’s leaning to this answer by the time Yoongi pulls in front of her apartment. But when she looks at him and bids him goodbye, his eyes crinkling as he tells her to “drink something warm” and “sleep well, sweetheart,” Y/N cannot figure out why the thought of giving up their ruse felt so…wrong.
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DAY 7 – February 1; Saturday
               Y/N is awakened by the eye-burning late morning light streaming through her curtains. Her sleep never exceeds the eight-hour mark. It’s a wonder that for the first time, today she did. Y/N thinks it’s probably because Mina spoiled her with homemade post-dinner yesterday after flopping next to her on the couch and telling her everything that happened that day. Her bestfriend has lined up all her favorite comfort foods and even stayed up late watching movies with her, successfully distracting her from replaying whatever Nancy has said.  
              However, it could also be probably because she slept with her coat draped over her shoulders. Y/N doesn’t know why but her coat smelled so good last night and she just has to keep it beside her for the whole night. She only learns the answer to this when she wakes up to Yoongi’s scent filling her senses first thing in the morning. But even with this knowledge, Y/N can’t find it in herself to regret she ever did that. She hates to admit there’s something about that man that makes her feel safe even if he also makes her run constantly on her toes.
               Mina’s out to visit her parents and said she will be back for dinner. Y/N’s seated cross-legged on the couch, chomping on the brunch her bestfriend prepared while she watches Slam Dunk. It’s been two hours since she clicked on her USB containing the downloaded episodes of the anime and yet it feels only fifteen minutes have passed. She doesn’t want to say it aloud, but clearly, Yoongi has some good taste. She wouldn’t mind getting more recommendations from him.
               Just right then, her phone rings. Without tearing her eyes from the TV, she wipes on the screen and holds the phone next to her ear. Whoever decided it was a good time to interrupt her just when Sakuragi gets a moment with Haruko is as good as dead meat. She grits over the phone, “What do you want?”
               “What the—So early in the morning and you’re already so grumpy.”
               Y/N stops. She pulls her phone away from her face.
               Mean Yoongi >:( 
               Y/N sighs and rolls her eyes. However, she cannot resist the smile that immediately grows on her face. “It’s not ‘early in the morning’ anymore, mister. It’s already eleven. Now, what do you want?”
               “‘What do I want?’ Do I seriously type the opportunistic guy who only calls just because he wants something?” Yoongi scoffs but the sound of it tells Y/N the man was doing his weird laughing face again. 
               Y/N chuckles. Yoongi immediately follows suit. “But seriously,” Y/N manages in between giggles, “Why did you call?”
               “Just checkin’ up on you. How are you? Do you feel…better, now?”
               Y/N hums. She purses her lips, “A bit better now. So far, this day has been good to me. How ‘bout you?”
               “I’m good,” Yoongi quips, “Better actually. I cooked my family some breakfast and now I’m just chillin’ in my room. What are you doing?”
               “…watching Slam Dunk.”
               “No way!”
               Y/N could hear the clatter of things in the speaker. Yoongi must have sat up and knocked things over. What a clumsy idiot. She chuckles, “Oh yes way, Min. Now, you won’t be able to fight me on this because I’m in the 10th episode now.  How about you? How’s the other end of the deal doing over there?”
               “Just you wait, woman, I’m gonna watch Naruto now.” There’s a faint click in the speaker and then—
               “Please enter your disk.”
               “Oh my god, Yoongi, you bought a fucking CD of Naruto?!”
               “Why? This is me showing my respect for art by not ripping it off—wait, do you not buy CDs?”
               “…No.”
              “Do you not have Netflix?”
               “Do you have Netflix?” Y/N counters, “That’s rich coming from you considering you still buy Blu-ray Discs. We’re just both broke, struggling adults here who can’t afford additional bills to pay. No need to pull up your chair so high, mister.”
               “Answer my question, Y/N. Do you not have Netflix?”
              Y/N sighs, “No.”
              “Oh my god, I can’t believe I’m dating a pirate!”
               Y/N could feel her cheeks start to burn, “What the—! I’m not a pirate! I’m just—being practical, yeah! In case you don’t know, things stay free on the Internet for a reason and that is to accommodate broke people like me.”
               “Still doesn’t negate that you, mate, are in fact committing piracy.”
               “Hey, I’m not the one who created the pirated versions of Slam Dunk! I’m just downloading torrents. I’m just utilizing available means practically laid in front of me!”
               Laughter resounds on the other end of the line. It sounds weird—like a grandpa wheezing in front of an electric fan. But it also sounds endearingly cute. It doesn’t make sense why it even sounds cute. It’s not even cute! Y/N unknowingly smiles. One thing’s for sure. She wants to hear more of Yoongi’s laugh.
               “Jesus Christ, woman, I’m just messing with you!” Yoongi cackles. “You think I don’t watch pirated things, too? Most of the movies I claimed I’ve already watched are all thanks to torrent. I’m too broke to go to cinemas!”
               “But if you entertain pirated stuff,” Y/N shifts in her seat, “why did you even buy a CD of Naruto?”
               “I buy CDs only when I think they are worth it.”
               “You…already think Naruto is worth it?”
               “Yeah. You like it. So, it’s worth it. You said it’s great, so I trust you.”
               Y/N gulps. It’s weird. Her chest feels so warm and so do her cheeks. She’s just talking with someone over the phone.
               “You still there?”
               “Y-yeah,” Y/N fixes her clothes. Why the hell is she even fixing herself? It’s not as if Yoongi can see her.
               “Okay. I thought of something.”
               “Yeah?”
               “How ‘bout we watch our respective animes together through Discord Music Party so we can hear each other’s reactions live?”
               Y/N tilts her head, “How will I be able to watch properly then if I’m calling you at the same time?”
               “You can turn down my volume from time to time there, duh. It’s 2020 now, sweetheart.”
               Y/N flushes. “O-okay, we can do that. But I still don’t get why we have to check our reactions live.”
               “Did you ever feel you want so badly to gush out your annoyance or excitement about something you’re watching to someone? Because I do. And I want you to be on the other line to hear me lash and gush on something because you made me enter this battlefield. This is 500+ episodes, woman.”
               “Well, that’s not my fault. Who in the first place proposed this anime-watching exchange? You.”
               “Touche,” Yoongi chuckles. “Yeah, it’s me. I told you I’d watch Naruto just to get you to watch Slam Dunk for my sake. But actually, I’m just curious why you love that anime so much. So here’s me learning the heck out of it.”
               Naruto’s Season 1 opening OST starts to play in the background.
               Y/N clucks her tongue, “I thought we’d go to Discord first before we do our live reactions?”
               “Just give me five more minutes. I don’t want to end our call yet.”
               Five minutes easily turn into twenty and it takes one more of Yoongi’s ‘Just five more minutes’ to annoy Y/N and yell at him he’s wasting his mobile load. It takes Y/N three minutes to download the app, and after ten minutes of fumbling around it, they hear each other’s voices again and continue where they left off. 
               “Oh, you’re here again, captain!”
               “Shut up, Yoongi.”
               “How’s the loot?”
               Y/N sends an angry emoji in the chat. Yoongi’s laughter immediately booms through the speakers.
               The rest of the day just goes like this. Episode upon episode pass. There are occasional quick calls for a bathroom break. Of course, another argument happens, especially when Yoongi suddenly declared at episode 77 he ships Sakura with Naruto which Y/N cannot accept because “canon is canon for a reason.” Meanwhile, Yoongi was initially pleased to learn Y/N ships Haruko with Sakuragi and not with “Awful Kaede.” But that immediately changes when he learns Y/N only ships the two because she ships Kaede with herself.
              “I love me an ambitious, dream-driven man.”
              “You’re the one who’s getting too ambitious, missy.”
                Sometimes, inquiries of “You wanna pause and rant about Kaede?” or “What are you eating?” come across. But most of the time, what transpires in between are laughs, expressions like “that’s so cool,” and “whoa, I didn’t expect that,” and promises to keep watching together whenever they’re free. Y/N never knew watching a show could be this fun. Of course, it’s already fun watching an amazing show with great characters and conflicts. But watching together with another person, even if they’re not necessarily the same show, definitely amps up the experience.  Y/N doesn’t want to admit it but Yoongi’s right. Having someone by your side, even virtually, to gush or lash out with on something definitely feels good.
              Everything just felt so right and enjoyable that Y/N didn’t even notice the whole day passed with just her and Yoongi accompanying each other watching shows. Time has passed too quickly and now it’s five forty-five. Mina has already come home and she definitely sends Y/N a questioning look when she sees her chuckling on her phone. Y/N only flashes her a grin and mouths ‘just a bit more.’ Meanwhile, Yoongi has yet again started his “just five more minutes” hoax. Though that unexpectedly gets ended soon when Y/N hears Jeongguk’s voice pops up and asks Yoongi to come out and start preparing dinner. But just before Y/N could say goodbye and tell him one last time to “go hurry up and cook,” Yoongi interrupts her.
              “You know, this is my kinda type of a date.”
              “Thi-this is a date?”
              “Yeah. You’re spending time with me. I’m spending time with you. And we’re having a good time. So yeah, this is a date.”
              Y/N tries not to focus too much on what he said. “But how is this your type of a date? I thought you like bar dates?”
              Yoongi guffaws. “Where the hell did you get that?”  
              “Jeff. He said you’re a bar-type guy.”
              “Oooohhhh. So that’s why you suddenly wanted to have a date at Neo-Cloud 9 that day.”
              Y/N shyly looks down at her hands.
              “As much as I love alcohol, I don’t actually prefer drinking them in bars. They’re too noisy. Messy. And there’s a lot of people bumping into you.”
              “Then why did you agree to go to Neo-Cloud 9 when you also don’t like bars?”
              “Because you’re with me. You said it was your first time going in one, too, and I figured why not help you enjoy the experience.” Yoongi chuckles, “It’s not like I didn’t have fun with you anyway. In fact, I had so much fun. Especially at the part where you said you wanted to kiss me.”
              “Oh my god, Min.”
              “Don’t deny it anymore, sweetheart, I’ll—”
              Y/N ends the call though. But that seems pointless when her chat pops up with another message from the man.
              Min Yoongi  >;) (5:50 P.M.)
              “—make sure you’d remember it ‘til the die you die. I’ll live for as long as I can just to remind you of that.”
              Y/N (5:51 P.M.)
              “Sure. Whatever, Min.”
              Y/N closes her phone with a chuckle. When she turns around to finally gather her used utensils, she’s greeted by Mina’s curious stare.
              “You seem to be having fun with Yoongi these days.”
              Y/N opens her mouth but Mina immediately interrupts her, “Oh don’t you deny it. I’ve seen you smiling a lot these days. Even when you still rant about him, I could see you’re actually having fun.” 
              Y/N raises her hands, “Okay, I admit, I’m actually having fun. But I think it has to do with us agreeing to compromise for this 14-day deal. Not because of…him.”
              “But isn’t that good, though?” Mina asks, “This deal didn’t turn out as disastrous as I expected it to be. At least you’re trying to make the best out of it instead of busting each other’s heads off. Plus, a week has already passed. You only have seven days more. Everything will soon go back to normal.” Mina smiles, “Just a little more and you’ll soon get that benefit, Y/N.”
              Mina excuses herself and heads to the kitchen to start dinner. As Y/N plops back down on the sofa, she realizes she’s got her answer. It’s just seven more days. Just seven more days to fully enjoy this deal. After that, it will all go back to the way it used to and she’ll have her work all to herself again.  It wouldn’t hurt much if she chooses to turn down work for the first time and indulge in the last days of this ruse, right? The deal is bound to end soon anyway. It’s useless backing out now. She just has to make the best out of it.
              But why can’t Y/N find it in herself to be fully happy about this? 
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A/N| Hi hons! First of all, happy birthday to @wii-wii! I hope this post is not too late. I hope you had a wonderful day/night and may you always stay well and safe 💕
Thank you, hons, for waiting for the 2nd part of Act 2! Unfortunately, I don’t know when I’ll upload Act 3 as I’ll be prioritizing my fic first for @btswritingcafe​’s Map of The Soul Workshop. And after that, I’m going to write a short story I’ll have to submit for my university’s journal. After then will I be able to go back to my schedule for THH. Don’t worry though, I already prepared a detailed outline for the rest of the Acts of THH so I think I wouldn’t take too long fumbling what scenes to write. Anyway, if you wish to get updated when Act 3 finally drops, just PM me or send me an ask and I’ll add you to the taglist!
Update: Comment down below instead if you want to get added to the taglist! I think it will help me to track all of you hons once I post the update!
All Rights Reserved 2020 © Vanaera. Reposts, modifications, and translations of content are not allowed.
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dovechim · 5 years
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➾ 7.1k
➾ summary: the premise is simple, really. you’ve been wanting to have a baby ever since you and your husband got married three years ago. Dr Kim Namjoon is the top fertility specialist in town who boasts a 100% success rate. the thing is, your husband has given up on trying to have children, so you find yourself visiting Dr Kim Namjoon in secret, only to realise that his methods are slightly unorthodox. 
➾ warnings: mentions of infidelity and cheating, use of medical equipment (speculum), unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), impregnation, creampies, unprofessional behaviour from a medical professional, dirty talk involving humiliation
➾ a/n: a long time ago i said i was doing a fic for every member with this breeding kink and i didn’t know what i was getting myself into... a long time later, here is namjoon’s part :”) huge thanks goes to @jimlingss for as usual hearing my ideas out and hyping me up to write. i’ve been struggling with trying to like my own writing again but having kina’s support really meant a lot. of course, having all of you patient enough to wait for me is a huge motivating factor as well. without further ado, enjoy :) 
Nerves are fluttering in your stomach as you take a queue number from the receptionist and seat yourself in the waiting room. This is most definitely not where you’d ever expect yourself to end up. Casting a quick glance around the room, you surreptitiously turn your wedding ring around so that the diamond on it is hidden and less conspicuous. Everyone else in the waiting room is here with their spouse; you are the only one alone and its painfully obvious.
“______?” The voice comes out of nowhere and jolts you out of your self-conscious worrying.
You spring out of your seat and nod to the receptionist as she directs you to the door at the end of the hallway. Feeling multiple curious eyes on your back, you read the sign on the door before knocking.
Dr Kim Namjoon
Fertility Specialist
“Come in,” a pleasant, timbre voice answers and you slip inside, only to be greeted by a man in tortoiseshell glasses, his blonde hair pushed off his forehead. He motions for you to sit down with a welcoming smile, and his warm presence already puts you a little more at ease.
You smile nervously at him as you take your seat in front of him, adjusting your skirt and tugging it a tad lower to avoid any form of eye contact with the handsome doctor.
“So, _____, what can I do for you today?” Dr Kim smiles as he rests his forearms on the desk, leaning forward. When he smiles his dimples are so prominent that it takes your breath away a little. 
You can feel his attention focused on you, and for some reason this makes you even more nervous, so you drop your gaze down to your hands in your lap, absentmindedly playing with your wedding band in order to keep your nerves at bay. But then you remember that you’re also drawing attention to the fact that you’re married and here without your husband, so you immediately cover your left hand with your right. It’s too late though, with a tiny glance up, you catch Dr Kim’s gaze on your hands in your lap.
Clearing your throat, you pray that he doesn’t ask too many questions. “I-I’m here with concerns. A-about my fertility. I want to have a baby.”
Dr Kim chuckles pleasantly. “Well then, we’ll see what we can do about that. Just some questions for me to get a better sense of where you are in your journey to have a baby. How long have you been trying to get pregnant?”
He whips out a yellow legal pad and a pen to begin taking down notes, and without his piercing caramel eyes on you, you relax slightly; your heartrate slows down and the room in general feels less stuffy.
“I’ve been trying for three years,” you say in a near whisper, automatically wincing for the onflood of sympathy that you’ve come to expect whenever you tell someone about this.
But Dr Kim only nods once as he notes it down. “I see. And have you gone for any medical checkups in the past year? Anything of interest regarding your medical history I should know about?”
“No, I’m all clear,” you are now watching his fountain pen glide across the pages of his notepad with grace and ease, and before you can stop yourself, your eyes travel to the slim grip of his fingers.
“What about your… partner? That is, I’m assuming you have one,” Dr Kim looks up briefly to give you a smile.
“He’s also gone for tests and checkups,” you lace your fingers tightly together, thinking about your loving husband. “But the doctor said there’s no problem with either of us. I just… I don’t know why it’s taking so long. We’re both so desperate… I’mso desperate to have a baby.”
Your voice cracks slightly as emotion wells up in you, and you take a deep breath to center yourself again. “Dr Kim, I heard that you’re the top notch fertility specialist in town. My husband has lost all faith in us ever having a baby so he’s given up hope… he doesn’t know I’m here today. Please, can you help us?”
Dr Kim finishes his notes with a flourish, then he puts down his pen and looks up with a reassuring smile. “First of all, ____, I deeply sympathise with your struggles over the past three years. I know how incredibly emotional and difficult it can be to face such issues, and especially over such a long period of time. You are a very strong and determined woman to come here alone today without your husband. It shows that you don’t give up hope for something that you truly want, and for that I really admire you.”
His words take the tension out of your shoulders and sets you more at ease. You’d read articles about this man online, seen pictures of him even, but in real life he looks even more suave and breathtaking. Every single action and word of his is fuelled by a quiet confidence, a professionalism that is warm and reassuring.
“Over here, we have a 100% success rate with all of our procedures,” Dr Kim goes on. “We are proud to be the first fertility clinic that carries our own supply of sperm curated from our sperm bank.”
“Th-that’s amazing, Dr Kim” you nod as he hands you a brochure, but your eyes are fixed on his handsome smile.
“Please, call me Namjoon. I hope you can be more at ease with me. I want all my patients to think of me as a close friend,” Namjoon pushes his glasses up. “I can definitely help you with having a baby… but first I’d like to ask you what approach you prefer to take.”
You hesitate as you turn over the brochure in your hands. “Approach? What do you mean by that?”
“Well, I have several suggestions to help you conceive,” Namjoon says as he points to a list of options on the back of the brochure. “Firstly, IVF. In Vitro Fertilisation, a popular but very costly procedure that can take up to one year to show results. Seeing as you mention your husband not wanting to try any more medical approaches… I think it would be difficult for you to convince him to commit to this.”
“No, you’re right,” you sigh as you read over the estimated cost stated on the brochure. “Not only that, we just don’t have the means to afford that kind of procedure right now.”
Namjoon nods in understanding, and he directs your attention to the next option on the page. “No worries, let’s move on. The second option we have here is sperm donation, the most popular option for most of my patients. This treatment requires a healthy egg, which you definitely fit the requirement of. Like I mentioned before, we have our very own sperm bank here in the clinic, and once you make your decision, after a brief checkup, you can choose to have your first donation as soon as today. That is, if you’re deemed to be ovulating and fertile, of course.”
Your heart skips a beat. “Today? But that’s so soon! I mean, I’d love to see results as soon as possible, but my husband…”
“Ah, yes, he doesn’t know that you’re here, does he?” He shakes his head slightly in apology. “Forgive me if I’m stepping over the line here, but from a medical professional’s perspective, seeing as you and him have been trying to conceive for three years, it might be that your egg and his sperm simply aren’t compatible. If the both of you have gone for fertility checkups, and nothing abnormal has shown up…”
Namjoon’s voice trails off, and he looks at you to gauge your reaction.
“Actually…” your voice is hesitant as you meet his gaze. “I’ve come to that same conclusion myself. And before I came here today, I told myself to be open to the idea of getting sperm from another man. It’s just that… I don’t know how he would take it. Obviously he might not be very open to the idea, so that’s why I came here today without telling him.”
“I see.” Namjoon’s face is completely expressionless except for the muscle that jumps in his clenched cheek as he leans back in his chair. “Do I take it that you wish to receive a sperm donation today? Without your husband knowing?”
His question lingers in the air for a few moments. Your husband can’t possibly blame you for doing this. You’ve been trying for three years with no luck. Maybe it just wasn’t fated for you to have a baby with him. Why should you be deprived of the experience of motherhood just because of fate?
“He really, really wants a baby too,” you say, fully aware that you’re not answering his question. “If this goes on much longer, if I don’t get pregnant soon… he might end up leaving me for some beautiful, young and fertile twenty something.”
“I highly doubt that,” Namjoon shakes his head and holds up his hands. “Excuse me for being inappropriate, but any man who would leave someone like you is an idiot. You’re far too gorgeous for that to happen. And from what I can tell, you’re a strong and determined woman who knows what she wants too. It would only be a loss on his part, believe me.”
His smooth words and charming smile only make the butterflies in your stomach worse. “Dr- Namjoon… you’re used to complimenting women, aren’t you? Is that how you became the top fertility specialist here?”
He lets out a loud chuckle. “My patients feel right at home with me, and what can I say? I know women… intimately. Women like you deserve to be told how beautiful they are, and you deserve to be treated right too.”
Namjoon’s double entendre makes your heart pound in your chest. “You know… you really remind me of my husband. He could sweet talk his way into anyone’s life. That’s pretty much how I fell in love with him… and that’s why I’m worried. A charming and sweet man like you must definitely have a lot of women fawning over him.”
For the first time since the appointment began, you see Namjoon blush a little as he glances away for a moment. It seems like he is not used to being on the opposite side of receiving compliments, but the shy side of him is absolutely adorable. Namjoon pushes his glasses up on his nose a little, and he scratches his neck.
“That’s a wonderful compliment, thank you,” he manages to smile professionally, but only just. “I’m sure your husband knows how lucky he is to have such a wonderful wife like you. But if you’re really worried about that… let me help you. Personally, I want to make sure you have a nice and healthy baby, one that looks just as beautiful and is as kind as you.”
Elation lights up your face as you reach forward to grasp his hands involuntarily. “Thank you so much, Dr Kim!”
Namjoon holds both of your hands in his as he stands, motioning you over to the chair in the corner. “I’ll just do a quick checkup to determine where you are in your cycle right now, and then we can discuss options for the sperm donation. There’s a gown on the back of the chair, if you could just slip off your bottoms and put that on? I’ll give you some privacy.”
Namjoon draws the curtain and leaves you alone to change. Once the curtains are drawn, you slip off your pencil skirt and underwear, putting on the gown that comes down to your knee. When you’re done, you call out to Namjoon again, and he parts the curtain.
“Just hop up there for me will you?” Namjoon holds out his hand toward the chair.
You feel his hand on your waist helping you into the slightly high chair, and he directs your legs into the stirrups that go on either side. Namjoon’s warm hands secure your legs in a comfortable position as he checks in with you frequently. Your legs are now spread wide, and you are aware that your gown has ridden up all the way to your upper thigh.
“When was your last period?” Namjoon is washing his hands over at the sink and pulling on some gloves. He grabs a large container of what you assume must be some kind of lubrication before he pushes a wheeled chair over.
“Um, about… two weeks ago?” You hazard a guess, confirming after you check your period tracking app on your phone. “Exactly two weeks ago.”
“Oh, that’s nice,” Namjoon raises his eyebrows in surprise. “That means you could be ovulating right now. I’ll know when I examine your cervix and your discharge, but let me just take a quick blood sample and send that off to the nurses just to be sure.”
He comes over to your side and takes your wrist gently, cleaning your skin with an alcohol wipe before drawing a vial of blood from your arm in the blink of an eye. It doesn’t even hurt, considering the fact that you are deathly afraid of needles, because all through it Namjoon keeps your attention on him with his gentle and soothing voice, and that charming smile of his.
“Let me get that sent off…” Namjoon is frowning in concentration as he scribbles something onto a label and sticks it onto your blood sample before he parts the curtains. A second later he is back again, and he positions himself in between your legs, a gentle touch on your calf. “Results should take about 20 minutes. Meanwhile, let’s see what’s going on here, shall we?”
“That fast?” You comment in surprise. From this angle all you can focus on is how the handsome doctor looks in between your legs, and his warm touch on your skin. “Wow. Technology sure is advanced these days.”
“Sure is,” Namjoon laughs in agreement. “Now just relax for me… I’m going to part your lips now and take a look.”
You can feel Namjoon spreading your lips with two fingers as he peers closely at you, and a heated blush is on your cheeks. You feel extremely exposed in front of this handsome doctor, even more so as his fingers brush across your slit, and you realise that he doesn’t even need any lube at this point. You’re about to hastily come up with some explanation as to why you’re this wet all on your own, but Namjoon saves you the trouble.
“Very nice, there’s some clear discharge indicative of ovulation,” Namjoon smiles as he gently collects some of it on his gloved fingers, showing it to you. “See how it’s so stringy? When I pull my fingers apart it doesn’t break easily. Kind of looks like egg whites.”
You feel his fingers part your lips again and this time, they are probing at your entrance.
“I’m going to slide two fingers in this time, it’s going to go deep so that I can feel your cervix. Tell me if you feel any discomfort, alright?” Namjoon smiles at you before his head disappears between your legs again, and two of his long, slim fingers enter you.
His fingers might have looked slim just now when you were eyeing them, but when they’re deep inside you, you feel a stretch that isn’t uncomfortable, but definitely something to get used to. Your instinct is to clench your walls around his fingers; at this point you just want him to stroke that special spot inside you. You can feel that you are drenching his fingers with your arousal, so there’s no pretending that you aren’t turned on. It must be because of your ovulation that you’re this horny just from getting an examination.
“Relax, you’re clenching really tight around me,” Namjoon’s voice comes off as a relaxed laugh, and you immediately make an effort to relax. “Has it been some time since you had intercourse? You feel really tense.”
“Um, no it hasn’t,” you say truthfully. “My- my husband and I had sex just this week. A few days ago.”
“Hmm,” Namjoon hums under his breath as he withdraws his fingers a tad. “Then you must be naturally tense. I need to examine your cervix, so I’m going to use a speculum. It might feel a little cold and the stretch might hurt a little, but bear with me.”
Namjoon pulls his fingers out, and your breath comes out all at once at the loss. He turns around and ducks out to grab the needed equipment, returning a moment later with a metal contraption. You’ve had speculums inserted before at previous checkups, so it’s no big deal.
He pours some lubrication onto the part that will be inserted in you, and you try your best to relax for him. With one hand on your inner thigh holding you steady, Namjoon slides the speculum into you, and goes deeper until it nudges at your cervix. Then, he starts to turn the screw on the side so that it begins to spread your walls open slowly, until he gets a clear view of your cervix.
Being spread apart like this and allowing someone else that isn’t your husband to see the most intimate parts of you only adds to the overwhelming rush of arousal that you feel right now. On one hand you feel incredibly immature, having a crush on your fertility doctor and wishing he would just help you with your problem personally, but the more primal part of you argues that it’s perfectly reasonable. This man right here is tall, fit and good looking, he’s smart on top of all that. Why shouldn’t he be the one to give you a baby?
“All looks great here, you are most definitely ovulating, _____,” Namjoon’s voice brings you back to the present. “Cervix is soft and open, so a donation today will greatly increase your chances of success. But we can discuss that more in detail when you’re more comfortable.”
“What do you mean? I’m perfectly comfortable with a thick metal rod in me,” your joke makes him laugh as he places a hand on your inner thigh, closing the speculum and removing it from you.
With some tissue he cleans you up, wiping away some of the lube and your arousal that had smeared on your inner thigh. His gesture feels so intimate and personal that you can’t help but feel the intense desire to feel his fingers without the rubber gloves, or to feel something else of his inside you.
Namjoon glances up as he disposes of the tissue. “I’ll give you a moment, I’ll just be outside and we can discuss the sperm donor that you want.”
He slips out of the curtains, and you pull down the gown, fanning your hot cheeks as you wipe the beads of sweat from your face. Getting down from the chair carefully, you push aside the curtains, leaving your skirt off as you sit in the same chair.
Namjoon is looking through a document. “Good news, the blood test results are in. You are, in fact at the peak of ovulation now. You came at just the right time, ____.”
“Can I really get a donation right now?” You ask as Namjoon turns to type something into his computer, having shed his rubber gloves.
“Of course! In fact, as your doctor I would highly recommend you do it today. If not, you would have to wait until next month,” Namjoon says. After a moment’s consideration, he adds on, “and since you told me you and your husband just had sex recently, it would be reasonable to convince him that it is his child you’re carrying.”
There is a weighted pause as the consequences of what you’re about to do sinks in. You’re at a fertility clinic, ovulating and about to receive a sperm donation from a complete stranger. Then you’re going to go home and in a few weeks, tell your husband that you’re pregnant with his baby.
You take a deep breath. “Alright. I’ll do it today. What are the options for sperm donors?”
“Here at our clinic, we use fresh sperm samples, we never freeze them. This is to allow for maximum success rate for our patients. I can open up the database of donors that we currently have fresh samples from, and you can take a look and choose from there,” Namjoon says as he types at his keyboard, scrolling through and clicking a few times. There is a slight frown on his face as he opens a few files.
“Is something wrong, Namjoon?”
“No, no, it’s just…” Namjoon pauses to type a few more things and hits enter with a look of frustration on his face. “It’s very strange. Somehow, our database only has one donor right now. I’m not sure if this is an error, because we ensure that we have at least 20 donors at any one time…”
“Who’s the one sperm donor?” You ask out of curiosity.
“It’s a Jeon Jungkook, 50 years old with a Bachelor’s Degree at… Hogwarts Witchcraft and Wizardry…” Namjoon looks at your troubled expression and clears his throat, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I thought so too. Let me just make some calls and check if there are any other donors.”
The normally cool and composed fertility specialist looks a little frantic as he picks up his desk phone and starts to dial a number, but then you put your hands over his.
“Namjoon, it’s okay. I decided which donor I want,” you give him a confident smile as he looks up in surprise, slowly putting down the phone.
“What? You want… a 50 year old man?” Namjoon shakes his head in confusion. “Who graduated from Hogwarts?”
“No. I want you to be my sperm donor, Dr Kim.”
A shocked silence settles in between the two of you for a moment as Namjoon’s eyes widen. “B-but that would mean… your husband. You don’t want him to know right?”
“That’s right. I want my husband to think the baby is his. But in reality, it would be your baby,” you withdraw your hands from Namjoon’s and sit back in your chair. “To be honest, Doctor, I’ve been attracted to you the moment I walked in. I want my baby to be as smart as you. I hope you can give me a baby boy that will look exactly like you.”
Before the doctor can say anything else, you go on.
“You said you only use fresh samples here at the clinic right? Without any freezing,” you recall his words from earlier. “It’s just… today is the perfect day for me to get a sperm sample,” you direct your gaze at his lips with a small sigh as you say this, completely committed to your role now. “I don’t see why we should let this opportunity go to waste. You can give me a fresh sperm sample right here and right now.”
“_____, I- I don’t know what to say… your husband…” Namjoon fumbles over his words; he has trouble looking you in the eye. “A-are you saying you want me to inseminate you? Is that really what you want? Tell me.”
You stand up from your seat and make your way around the table so that you are standing beside his chair. “Yes, Doctor. I want you to give me the baby my husband couldn’t. I want to have yourbaby.”
You slide your body into his lap, feeling the crisp material of his dress pants on your thighs as Namjoon’s arms circle your waist to help you sit on him properly. His thighs feel firm under you, and his mouth is now dangerously close to your neck. You can feel his body is tense under yours, a sharp intake of breath at your words.
“Is that so? What an unfaithful wife you are.” Namjoon admonishes you, and his breath ghosts over your skin. “Asking another man to give her a baby. Tell me, has anyone other than your husband fucked you before?”
“No, not even once,” your breath is speeding up now as Namjoon caresses your waist tenderly, bidding you to spread your thighs slightly to get more comfortable on his lap. “I love my husband. I really do. But I just want a baby so bad. I’d do anything.”
“Who am I to deny such a beautiful woman the experience of motherhood?” Namjoon hums under his breath, kissing the skin just behind your ear. “If a gorgeous woman such as you says she wants a baby, then it’s my duty not only as a doctor to obey… but as a man too.”
“Please…” you can feel your thighs getting slick with your arousal, and Namjoon helps you onto your feet.
“We have to do this the proper way, to ensure maximum success rate,” Namjoon directs you to the chair again, and draws the curtains firmly shut. “Thankfully, you’re my last patient today, so we can take as long as we like. By the time you walk out of this clinic, you’ll definitely be pregnant.”
You lie back in the chair with his help, not missing the way his hands are soft and gentle, making sure your head is supported against the headrest, and your legs are comfortably spread in each stirrup. From your vantage point, you can see Namjoon begin to take off his white doctor’s coat and reveal his white dress shirt and black pants underneath, but you stop him.
“Doctor, please keep it on,” you say, reaching out to grab his wrist. “I always had a thing for the whole hospital fantasy.”
Namjoon relents, turning around as he palms the growing bulge in his dress pants. “Does your husband know about this… fantasy?”
“No,” you answer truthfully as your eyes drop to take in the tent at the front of his pants. “No, he doesn’t know. Doctor, why don’t you make yourself more comfortable? It looks like you haven’t been able to… let go of some tension for a while.”
“What would your husband say if he saw you now? On your back with your legs spread… about to get a baby fucked into you by her fertility specialist,” Namjoon tsks under his breath as he situates himself between your legs, stroking your thighs softly. “What a pretty pussy too. Just begging to be eaten.”
“He- he would never find out,” you gasp and your back comes off the chair as Namjoon’s head disappears in between your legs, and you feel his tongue against your inner thigh. His fingers spread your lips again the way he did before, and then he is giving you open mouthed kisses directly against your clit, making your thighs shake and tremble.
You can’t see anything with the gown in the way, so with one hand you push it up to your waist. Namjoon’s blonde hair in between your thighs greets you, but the man himself is busy stroking his tongue against your clit, your juices all over his chin.
“So fucking sweet. I must say, I’ve never had the privilege to taste any of my patients before, but I bet you’re the sweetest of them all,” Namjoon places his thumb on your clit in slow circles, making eye contact with you before his tongue slides into your pussy.
Watching your fertility doctor eat you out like this must be a dream, you feel as if you’re in heaven especially when Namjoon switches to suckling your clit, and pushes two fingers deep in you. His fingers are long and nimble, hitting your sweet spot exactly right, and the delicious friction from his mouth just about sends you over the edge.
But just before you feel the knot in your lower belly snap, Namjoon pulls away with a satisfied smile, licking his lips and wiping the back of his chin with his hand.
“No cumming yet. You’ll conceive better if you orgasm with my cum right up against your cervix.” Namjoon knows exactly what a tease he’s being as he begins to unbuckle his belt, lowering his zipper and feeling the immense pressure against his cock subside just a little.
The sight of his cock awakens your desperation all over again. He is blessed both in length and girth; you surmise that the fertility specialist must be just as excited to give you a baby as you are, seeing as his cock is already fully hard. You feel a flutter of nerves as Namjoon strokes his cock and positions himself in between your legs. Trying to remember how big your husband’s cock is so that you can compare it to Namjoon’s is futile. All you can concentrate on is Namjoon as he fondles your clit, pushing three fingers inside you to prepare you.
“Please, doctor,” you push your hips toward him as a protest. Your eyes lower to his cock, already red and leaking, wishing you could wrap your hand around him and feel how warm and heavy he is. “It’s been so… hardfor me to have a baby. Please help me and my husband.”
“Don’t worry, just lie back and let me do all the work,” Namjoon pushes his underwear down, giving himself a few strokes and hissing in pleasure. His cock is engorged and angry, precum already dripping from the tip onto your inner thigh.
You can feel the head of his cock nudge against your lower lips, and your stomach tenses in excitement of finally feeling him inside you. “You feel so much bigger than my husband… fuck. A cock like that is sure to give me a baby… not like my pathetic husband.”
Namjoon places his hands on your thighs, hooking them around his waist as he begins to push the tip of his cock into you. The expression on his face is strained, his jaw is clenched at your words. The lubrication of your arousal and his precum allows him to slide in easily, but the stretch makes you wince and Namjoon swears under his breath.
“Fuck, such a tight pussy. I suspected so when I examined you just now, but it seems like even the speculum couldn’t loosen you up enough hmm?” Namjoon pauses for a moment to give you time to adjust, even though he’s barely even an inch deep. “Looks like your useless husband hasn’t been fucking you properly, or else you wouldn’t still be this tight.”
“Please fuck me properly then,” you hook your ankles around his back in an attempt to get his cock even deeper. “Show me how much better you are compared to my husband. When he fucked me I could barely even feel it.”
“Oh, you’ll feel this one alright,” Namjoon agrees with a laugh and a deep thrust of his hips that sends his cock halfway into your depths. Your walls are stretched to accommodate him, but you only urge him on, anxious to feel him all the way. Namjoon accedes to your whines and withdraws just a tad, then fucks you deep until he is buried balls deep in your pussy.
Namjoon leans over the chair to smooth a strand of hair out of your face as he presses a hand to your abdomen. “See this? I can feel my cock all the way here. Could your pathetic little husband do this?”
The veneer of professionalism is gone now as the filthy words begin to pour from his mouth. His hand is on your lower belly, where there is a slight bump from his cock being so deep inside you, and you gasp when he brings your hand down to feel it too. Never have you been penetrated so deep before, and yet the thickness of his cock leaves you almost breathless as Namjoon applies a light pressure on your lower belly.
“This is where I’ll be when I cum,” Namjoon strokes the soft skin of your belly. “Right up against your womb. Giving you a nice load of fresh sperm. Unlike your husband, I am perfectly healthy to fuck a baby into you. No pathetic weak shots of cum. No, my loads are so thick, you’ll feel every spurt against your soft, ripe little cervix.”
“Fuck me please,” you are begging, the torture of just feeling his thick length embedded inside you without even moving is getting to be too much. You attempt to push your hips against him just to feel some friction, but Namjoon’s strength pins you down to the chair. “Give me a baby.”
Namjoon pulls out and sinks back in so fast that your thighs twitch around him, hugging him closer and begging for him to go deeper and harder. Slaps of skin against skin begin to echo around the room, and soon you can feel how wet you are, dripping down your ass and completely soaking Namjoon’s heavy balls that are slapping against you.
“Yeah? You want a baby?” Namjoon’s thrusts are heavy, punishing, as if you deserve it for being such and unfaithful wife who would ask another man to give her a baby. “Whose baby do you want? Your husband’s?”
His cock seems to be splitting you apart. Your pussy is crying for relief, yet you want more of his brutal fucking. Every thrust brings his cock head right to the entrance of your womb, tapping your cervix gently as he reminds you where his cum will end up. When you don’t answer, Namjoon stops thrusting as a punishment.
“Tell me, whose baby do you want?” Namjoon asks again, rubbing his thumb against your clit and making you cry out. “You want your husband to give you a baby?”
“No!” You scream, body thrashing under him, and legs tightening around his slim waist. “I want yours. I want your baby, Doctor Kim.”
Satisfied with your answer, Namjoon resumes thrusting, abandoning his grip around your thighs as he circles your slim waist with his hands to pull you onto his cock. “This flat belly is going to be so round. Even after you’re pregnant, you’re going to keep coming back here aren’t you? Because you can’t resist a good fuck, and no one other than me can give you that.”
“Please, pl-ease,” you voice is barely there, your throat is dry. “Please keep fucking me. Even after you give me a baby.”
Namjoon chuckles as his cock sinks in deep, and he feels your walls flutter around him. “I’ll consider it after sales service for my best patient.”
You can feel your orgasm right there, just out of reach. Your clit is swollen and abused, throbbing just for a little friction that would send you over the edge. Fucked out and completely at his mercy, Namjoon places your legs back on the stirrups, spread wide as they can go as he continues with his punishing thrusts.
“Consider yourself lucky, _____” Namjoon’s thrusts are faltering as he swears under his breath. “I haven’t jerked off in nearly two weeks. You’re getting a huge load today. I hope you’re ready to get pregnant.”
You watch his sweaty face as he pushes his hair off his forehead, glasses slightly askew. His cheeks are rosy with exertion, and you want nothing more than to kiss his plush lips. “I’ve been ready for the past three years, Doctor. I want it. Give me all your cum and give me the baby I always wanted.”
Namjoon seems to want to say something else, but decides against it as he devotes the rest of his energy into his thrusts, pumping his cock in and out of you as you feel him start to twitch against your walls. The composure on his face is slowly slipping away as he pants hard against your skin, leaning over to support himself on the arm rests on either side of you as he fucks you good and deep.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, I can’t hold off much longer,” Namjoon is panting hard as he groans with exertion and pleasure. “Here it comes. Ahhhh, fuuuuck. Take it all. Take all my fucking cum!”
You gasp as he buries his cock to the hilt, feeling him hit your cervix hard one last time as he explodes. Rope after rope of warm cum drenches your womb, and you can feel his cock pulsing as he gives you every drop of his seed. After the first ten or so strong pulses of semen, it starts to slow down a little, and Namjoon thrusts in and out gently, making sure the last few spurts of cum still get as deep as possible.
It feels so wet and warm that you can’t help but relax as your pussy tightens around him to drain him dry. You can’t tell if Namjoon filled you up so much that you’re already leaking his cum, or if it’s just your arousal. Namjoon is still lazily thrusting away in your pussy, and his slower, gentler pace feels nice, but not quite what you need to reach your own orgasm.
After a minute or two, Namjoon slowly pulls out, making sure none of the cum escapes your pussy. He immediately reaches for a setting on the chair to tilt it backwards so that your hips are escalated slightly, and he secures your legs in the stirrups, making sure they’re still spread.
“We doing okay?” He comes over to stroke your hair and wipe away some of the smeared mascara on your cheek.
“I’m fine, doctor,” your eyes are closed and you are savouring the feeling of being warm and full of cum. Your pussy is still throbbing.
“Let me get you cleaned up,” Namjoon’s voice is soft as he moves away, fully aware that you haven’t cum yet.
To your surprise, a moment later you feel something metallic being inserted into your pussy again, and you open your eyes. Namjoon is back between your legs, and you realise that he’s putting the speculum back inside you and widening it so that he can see your cum drenched cervix once more.
“Just making sure you absorb all of that cum,” Namjoon reassures you with his ever gentle, reassuring hands on your skin. “Close your eyes and enjoy yourself, _____. Let me take care of everything.”
Namjoon positions himself so that he can see the flood of white cum coating your insides, and the pool of his semen just lying there. Your cervix is doing its best to soak it all up, but a little help wouldn’t hurt. Stroking your thighs gently, he places his thumb on your clit and rubs it in circles at the pace he knows you like, and sure enough, your body tenses up and your legs shake in the stirrups.
“You’re so close aren’t you?” Namjoon keeps his voice low, reaching for a medical sample jar that he had used to catch all the cum that spilled out when he inserted the speculum into your swollen pussy. He unwraps a sterile syringe to draw up the rest of the cum inside the jar. “Just need a few strokes to cum. Good girl. That’s my good girl… just relax and cum for me.”
His fingers speed up over your clit, and his eyes are drawn to the fascinating sight that is your cervix. With every tightening of your walls, your cervix is expanding and contracting, greedily swallowing down all of his cum so that the pool of semen inside you grows less and less. When you orgasm with a small whine of his name, toes curling and thighs shaking, Namjoon squirts the contents of the syringe into your womb, emptying it thoroughly as he drops a kiss on your knee.
As you calm down from your orgasm, Namjoon watches to make sure the pool of cum inside you is more or less swallowed down by your greedy cervix, before he unscrews the speculum and eases it out of you. He glances up at your face and your eyelids are droopy, chest rising up and down slowly as he helps you get your legs out of the stirrups and places them together on the chair.
“You did so well, that’s my good girl,” Namjoon comes around to kiss your forehead and stroke your cheek. “I think that’ll do it. Just rest here for a few minutes.”
“Come here baby,” you stretch out your hands for a hug, and Namjoon obliges. “How was that? Was my acting good enough?”
“Almost too real,” Namjoon admits with a laugh. “You really got me worked up there with that whole ‘my husband doesn’t know’ thing. When I said surprise me, I didn’t expect you to come up with such an elaborate scheme. I mean, you really went all the way with that roleplay!”
“So you were really shocked to see me walk in here?” You let go of him with a devious grin on your face. But then another though occurs to you. “Wait. 50 year old Mr Jeon Jungkook from Hogwarts? Did you make that up too?”
“Unfortunately I didn’t make that donor up. I think it’s a real error in our database. Probably some stupid young punk who wanted to make a quick buck and troll us at the same time…” Namjoon sighs as he shakes his head and adjusts his glasses, mumbling to himself about the calls he needs to make and the people he needs to sack. A second later, he frowns. “You’re lucky that you really are my last patient. And the whole ovulation thing- did you plan that too?”
“I thought you would have noticed since you got a notification about my ovulation on the app… but this morning you just left for work like normal,” you sit up in your chair and face him, watching his face dawn with realisation.
“Wait, that means… do you… really want to have a baby with me?” Namjoon takes your hand in his, barely able to conceal his excitement. “You’re finally ready?”
“We’ve been married for almost three years so if I don’t pop out like… ten babies for you, people are going to be doubting your capabilities,” you shrug nonchalantly, but there is a genuine smile on your face. “I’m doing it for the sake of your professional career, that’s all. And also, it’s nice to have a qualified specialist taking care of me for free.”
Namjoon is still shocked at your revelation, but he sees right through your wry comment. “I guess not everything in roleplay has to be just pretend. I’m Dr Kim Namjoon after all, and I always keep my promises.” He puts his arm around you and presses a kiss to the top of your head, one hand resting on your lower belly. “I might get you pregnant for free, but I charge for delivery.”
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jeonggukingdom · 5 years
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your every wish is my command (m)
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▽ Pairing: Jeongguk x Reader
▽ Genre: genie!AU, smut, fluff, crack
▽ Summary:  It’s Friday night and everyone you know in a 12 miles radius seems to be out and about dancing or drinking their lives away. Bored out of your mind you decide to call out the Genie that happened to fell in your hands a month prior to this very night. You just want some company, somebody to talk to and entertain you but things take a spicy turn when you accidentally make your very first wish and it’s a rather impious one.
▽ Word Count: 13.690 words
▽ WARNINGS:  Graphic depictions of sexual intercourse, unprotected sex, slight sub/dom dynamics, very light breathplay, rough sex, oral sex, thigh riding, tit fucking, swear words.
▽ AN: I’m going to take a moment to thank all the writers that participated in this collab, you guys are amazing and I love every single one of you! ♥ You were so supportive of each other, understanding when we ran into a few problems and honestly, I couldn’t have asked for a better bunch to share my very first collab experience with. Thank you, for everything ♥ @hobiwonder - @couture-kookie - @btsflufflysmut - @jimintykookies - @btssmutflufflove - @whichwaytowonderlandep
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 "Uuuugh, I'm bored out of my goddamn mind!" You huff in annoyance, sprawling on your bed with a prominent pout on your face as the deafening silence of your room welcomes your words.
You roll your eyes to the ceiling, your feet dangling out the edge of your mattress in a perfect imitation of a kid throwing a tantrum.
It is Friday night and normally you'd be out and about having fun, quite possibly drinking your brains out along with your friends, only to regret all your life's decisions in the morning.
But you are regretting this one decision tonight after all so, either way, lots of regrets seems to be headed your way tomorrow morning. Usually, they would come in the form of an incessant headache and the shame for your actions the previous night but, tomorrow seems more like it would be in the form of your friends' tales about the night and all the good—and bad—things you have missed.
Your phone chimes then, right on cue, and you ungracefully roll on your stomach to stretch your left arm forward and fish the device from under the little colorful pillows and covers on your still unmade bed.
In bold black letters shines Doyeon's name, your friend since junior year in high school with whom you have the misfortune—or fortune, depends on who you ask it to—of sharing your college experience with.
The text she has sent you is akin to a cryptic secret message from the stone age and you do not have the patience nor the will to try and understand what it means aside from the fact that she is, clearly, already too intoxicated to even know how to type down actual words.
Your suspicions are confirmed in the matter of a few seconds when your phone rings again, this time with a notification from SnapChat. Dreading what awaits you, you still tap it open and are instantly met with the loud ass music and the glorious unfocused shot of people dancing around your pretty friend.
You can hear Doyeon screaming her lungs out along with the music and, rolling your eyes, you lock your phone again.
Your lips purse into another pout as you scan your surroundings in the desperate search of something at least a little entertaining to do.
You have spent the last hour scrolling through your entire timeline on Instagram, Facebook, and Snapchat, and you have reached that bottom point where nothing new is up anymore for you to consume.
You let out a strangled moan of irritation towards yourself and turn flat on your back again, staring at the ceiling in dismay.
With the semester coming to an end and your grades not being as stellar as your parents' would like them to be, you have found yourself on the verge of constant panic every waking hour of the past few weeks and it is that dread that has pushed you to make a responsible decision tonight, for once.
Staying in to study for your impendent exam seemed only rational; finishing up the assignment due on Monday instead of rushing it in panic tomorrow night for the hundredth time seemed smart and, ultimately, getting a little ahead with your mandatory literature reads—like the perfect student your parents would love for you to be—seemed absolutely genius and something you would thank yourself for in the long run. Clearly, a farfetched assumption that has been discarded a long time ago in favor of resentment towards your own line of thoughts.
When you had planned out your evening, it hadn't occurred to you that in the silence of the dorm and with the absence of Doyeon's intrusions in your room, you could be productive and finish up all of these tasks in the few hours between the late afternoon and the early evening.
So now, at barely 10 PM in the evening, you are left with no company and absolutely nothing else to do beside pathetically stare at your white naked walls.
Your phone rings again and you roll your eyes to the ceiling, already sure of the identity of the person behind the receiver.
Without a fault, it is your best friend trying to contact you again in her riled-up state and you do consider ignoring the call but then again, it's not like you have anything better to do anyway.
You barely have the time to accept the call and move the phone to your ear before Doyeon's scream in the form of your name reverberates in your skull.
"Ya'llneverbelievewhadhappend!"
Doyeon's slurs her words out in a screech that hurts both your brain and your acoustic walls, ultimately forcing you to put her on speaker and drop the phone on the bed to avoid permanent damage to your neurotic cells.
Not so surprisingly, though, you still understand the words that are thrown your way and that is because you've had this conversation quite many times before, especially in person with your brain lost in an intoxicated haze and the lack of comprehension skills.
"What happened?" You ask back, honestly just to humor her and see what she'll come up with.
Doyeon tries, she really does, but she can't really describe the picture in her head clearly and even though you give her your undivided attention, the only things you can make-out out of her rant are the words 'kiss', 'Hoseok', 'gottagoBYE'.
Before you even get the chance to utter a single word in response, you're met with the sound of the line getting caught off and the consequential silence that comes right after.
"Really..." you whisper to yourself in annoyance, glaring at your phone as if Doyeon could even see you through the locked screen.
Curiosity has your mind reeling on the infinite scenarios that could link those few words together and your eternal romantic side hooks on the possibility of Hoseok finally confessing his feelings for your best friend.
It is not a secret that both of them have been pining over each other ever since the end of last semester. Well, not a secret for anybody except them. Those two fools have been going around for literal months believing their crush was very one-sided.
"Ugh, why tonight of all nights?!" You ask at the blank wall in front of you, your hands fisting the covers in utter frustration.
You turn on your back, ungracefully landing on the bed, your face flat on the mattress.
"I wish I could turn back time," you whisper to yourself, tilting your head to the side to fix your gaze on the right wall.
Your eyes comically enlarge as the realization comes to you, the solution to your loneliness and boredom shining like a beacon in the night.
Your gaze fixes on your most precious possession lying between your textbooks in your own rendition of a library: a genie lamp.
Looking quite tacky and straight-out of a cartoon for children, the lamp that has changed your whole perception of what is real and what isn't, shines under the lights.
You jump on your feet with the excitement of a kid who has just arrived at Disneyland and with a big smile plastered on your face, you reach for the golden object.
It still feels weird to hold the ancient lamp in your hands, feel it under your digits and trace the outline of the golden decorations embossed atop the teal surface.
The lamp feels absolutely weightless in your hands and even though you're sort of accustomed to magic by now, it still seems impossible for something so light to be able to contain so many things all at once, let alone a living person.
It has been a few months since you have found the object, placidly waiting to be picked up on a deserted beach in your hometown.
It was the crack of dawn and you had been walking the long way home, enjoying the summer breeze and the nice smell of saltiness—the smell of home and good memories and peace and safety, something you miss with your entire heart when you're back in the city, living the college life.
You had picked it up because it looked like a toy, something a child would have lost and also because growing up, Aladdin had been your favorite Disney movie and oh well, even as an adult you still held a soft spot for it. It was, after all, the cartoon that sparked up your fantasy and imagination. Little did you know though that, when growing up, you'd find out that Aladdin's fairytale wasn't so farfetched as you initially believed.
You will never forget the moment you blew air out your mouth to clean up the lamp, in an attempt to make it shine bright again, and watched it spark up to life. You will also never forget the scream of utter terror that erupted from your mouth once a thick teal fog erupted from it and engulfed you whole.
In the span of a few seconds, you considered the idea of being way more drunk than you initially thought; having gone completely insane; having fallen down somewhere, banged your head and ended up in a weird-dream inducing coma.
The quick escalation of panicked thoughts had made your head spin and your heart rate spike up in your chest.
As the fog seemed to clear all around you, you had found yourself breathing in almost normally again, the thought of having experienced a seizure wildly present in the recess of your mind as you took in the scenery anew.
You expected the beach to be in the same state you had left it before you picked up that goddamned thing but, instead, you were met with two doe eyes, staring right at you.
How you didn't faint right then and there it is still a question you have no answer to but you did scream, oh God if you screamed and ran on the beach like a maniac, scared for your own life.
"Why do you scream so much?"
It had the voice of a boy, damn, he looked like a boy but he couldn't be one, because he came from that thing and if you weren't hallucinating, dreaming or, worse, stuck in a fantasy world of your own creation as your body lied peacefully in a hospital bed, that meant he wasn't human.
"Wha-w-what are you?!" The screech that came out of your mouth made him flinch and scrunch up his nose in distaste as he took a step forward, trying to reduce the distance you had put between the two of you.
"Well, if you had given me the time to speak, you would've known by now that I'm a genie and I'm here to serve you." The 'boy' bowed before you, his head hanging low and his back at a perfect ninety degrees angle to show you the respect you were supposedly due.
Terror seemed to dissipate in your chest, suppressed by a fit of laughter that you had no idea whether it actually came from hilarity or absolute insanity. Still, you laughed until your stomach ached, until your eyes got teary and your cheeks hurt.
"What's so funny?" He asked, tilting his head to the side in confusion, his lips slightly protruding forward in an adorable pout.
"You-you said you're a genie!" You could barely get the words out before you were thrown into another fit of laughter, unable to control yourself over the absurdity of the whole situation.
"Is my species something to laugh about?" His thick eyebrows narrowed as he studied you and your scrunched-up form, still giggling uncontrollably before him.
The smile slowly disappeared from your lips as you took him in completely for the first time. His eyes had turned cold, his mouth was held in a tight line, his arms crossed over his chest in defense, his stance rigid and mildly uncomfortable.
"Wait, you're being serious?!" Your mouth opened in astonishment as you stared down at him, "You aren't shitting me, right now?"
"Why would I joke about this?" He looked at you, clearly confused by both your initial reaction and your current string of questions.
"Is this some kind of candid camera?" You looked around trying to pick up on the hidden crew or a camera perfectly concealed somewhere up the road.
"What's a candid camera?"
"What's a can-really?!" You looked at him with your mouth open, your eyebrows knitted together in astonishment. Honestly, who doesn’t know what a candid camera is?
"Oh my God, I'm dealing with a crazy person!" You exclaimed, raising your arms to the sky in an over-dramatic motion of incredulity.
"You screamed at me, laughed at me and tried to run away from me and I'm the crazy person here?!" He pointed at himself, his eyes shining with both disbelief and exasperation over your refusal to believe him.
"You are the one that came out from the freaking lamp! Wait-" You stopped on your tracks, suddenly reminded of why you had been scared out of your skin in the first place.
In response, the self-proclaimed genie pointedly looked at you, his eyebrows rising up to his forehead, his hands resting on his hips as he waited for you to finally connect the dots.
It didn't make sense. Genies aren't real, that's what you kept saying to yourself because, honestly, who would have believed him right away? Who in their right mind would have?
"Prove it." You crossed your arms on your chest and looked up at him, fierceness in your gaze and defiance in your stance.
"Because clearly coming out from a lamp is not enough," he muttered to himself, shaking his head a little before relaxing his posture to lift himself up from the ground.
Your chin dropped alongside with your heart, your mind reeling in the attempt to grasp what you were staring at. He was flying. Like, actually flying and that meant either this was very real or there was something really wrong with you.
You felt the blood drain from your face as he gracefully landed before you, his lips twisted into a satisfied smirk whilst panic raged back on inside of you.
You gulped down heavily, unable to tear your gaze away from him in fear the moment you'd look away, he'd kill you. Which is dumb, of course, in retrospective it is but there was alcohol in your system and fear and panic which aren't the nicest combination, to be fair to yourself.
You blow hot air on the lamp and rub on the fogged up surface with your sleeve, cooing him out of the lamp with the same sounds you would use for a cat—something he utterly despises but that you still do just to spite him.
Nine months have passed since you picked up his lamp by accident and you have been through your ups and downs together, so much so you have started thinking about him as a friend. Of course, he doesn't know this and he cannot know this because you are aware it is dangerous territory.
Genies aren't meant to spend a lifetime with a human, they are meant to grant wishes and move on and once they do, they'll never meet their previous owners ever again.
You know this, he has explained it to you on that very first day and even though you understand the rules very well, there is this part of you that refuses the idea of ever letting him go. It's silly, but the feeling is there and it seems as unshakable as a whole huge-ass-mountain.
The familiar teal fog engulfs you, warming up your body as it enlarges in the air, moving around until it thickens into a living human-like creature.
"How many times do I have to tell you I'm a genie, not a freaking cat?"
"Good evening to you too, Jeongguk."
He rolls his eyes at you, his hands resting on his hips as he taps his foot to the floor, annoyance written all over his face.
"Fine, fine, I won't do it anymore." You peel off your gaze from his little pout, turning your back on him so you can sprawl yourself on the bed again.
"You said that last time, as well." He takes a step forward, following you to the center of the room to look down at you, his eyes shining with judgment and a little bit of mistrust.
You giggle as you sit up crossing your legs whilst you reach out a hand for him, sticking up your pinkie for him to catch.
"Pinky promise?" You offer, batting your lashes in feigned innocence.
"I'm not a kid," he grumbles under his breath but still joins your fingers together, side-eyeing you as you burst into giggles at his antics.
That's the thing with Jeongguk: he'd mumble, he'd throw a tantrum like a kid and look at you with ice-cold eyes but he'll always humor you. You don't know if it's because it's in his nature or that is just the way it is but you love it, either way.
"So, what am I doing here?" He asks, tilting his head to the side, his eyes turning into slits as he studies you, "No, scratch that. What are you doing here?"
You sigh loudly, suddenly reminded of your pathetic Friday night at the dorm.
"I'm here because I had to study, you are here because I want entertainment."
"Is that your first wish?"
It has been nine months since you have met him and not a single day has passed without him asking you about your first wish. At first, you just wanted to consider your options before wasting three wishes on trivial things.
Now, you just don't want to watch him disappear into thin air and forget all about you.
"No, dummy, I'm just bored out of my mind."
Your reply sounds lighthearted but you can't really stop the sadness creeping up in your heart at the thought of ever letting him go. You wish you could speak about this with him or with anybody else but you can't. How exactly would you explain genies to other people without making them think you need some serious help? Also, the most egoistic part of you doesn't even want anyone else to know about the existence of Jeongguk and the rest of his lot.
"Well, what do you want me to do about it?"
"Ah! You won't trick me into making a wish, I'm not that clueless!"
He shakes his head lightly, trapping his bottom lip under his teeth before sighing loudly.
"That's what I don't understand," he says, his gaze so intense it almost makes you squirm on your seat. These days it almost feels like he can read past your defense and it scares you to no end because you know what he will say. He would be right, too, in saying it but you don't want a wake-up call, not just yet.
"Why don't you?" He asks, narrowing his eyebrows as you promptly look away, avoiding his gaze with all your might.
"I just want to make sure I don't waste them up," your voice says. I enjoy your company far too much to let you go, your heart secretly whispers.
Silence welcomes your words and you let your body fall down on the mattress again, your eyes fixing up on the ceiling anew while your heart feels even heavier than it did before.
Your mind drifts off to your call with Doyeon, how happy she sounded in her messy-ass state. The likelihood of her and Hoseok being together right now is pretty high and yes, you are happy for her but also yes, you do envy her. It has been months since you've last been with a guy and it has been even longer since you even felt something for one.
With a pout on your lips you turn towards your genie, still standing at the edge of the bed with his eyes fixed on you.
This is another thing Jeongguk does: he looks at you all the time. He never lets you out of his sight and at first, you found it odd, unnerving and almost creepy but now, after so many months together, you've grown to like it because it makes you feel special, almost cherished. Of course, it is all based on a lie because it is probably in his nature to keep his eyes on his master but, even so, the heart feels and believes what it wants to.
"You know what would make me feel really better?"
You ask after a few seconds, a wicked smile spreading on your lips as you study your next words. Usually, you wouldn't talk about this stuff with him, maybe not even with Doyeon to be completely honest, but the idea of making him all flustered is too tempting to resist it.
"What?" He asks, his eyes shining with the prospect of you finally using up your very first wish. You swear to God, if he had a tail he'd be wagging it like a dog now, looking so expectantly at you.
You almost bite back the words before they can leave your mouth but then, you don't, and before you realize it, they are hanging in the hair.
"A good dickdown."
He looks at you with his eyes big as saucers, his cheeks the color of rose petals and his mouth slightly parted in a silence reply to your words.
You giggle at his response—or lack thereof—basking in the way he looks so utterly bewildered with your sudden confession.
"Well, I'm-uhm-pretty sure you won't have any problems finding someone willing to...?"
Jeongguk scratches the back of his head, his eyes drifting a little away from your face as he tries to get his composure back after you have thrown him so off with your words.
You take this chance to look at him, truly look at him without the fear of being caught staring, for once.
His black hair shines particularly bright tonight, soft and fluffy locks slightly covering his sharp eyebrows in a way that makes him look young and dainty.
His eyes are your favorite thing to look at. They are black as coal but still shimmer as if stars are trapped behind them, they are big and kind and puppy-like and they make your heart hurt whenever they fix on you.
His nose is round and a little pointed at the end, an adorable freckle is almost hidden under his right nostril and you may or may not have dreamed of kissing it before.
He has a little scar on his left cheek, almost looking like a cut and you have tried asking him about it but an answer has never come your way, no matter how much you insisted on your pursuit. You imagined a lot how it would feel under your digits. The rest of his skin looks so soft to the touch you truly wonder if it would really seem like stroking peaches if you'd reach your hand and simply touch it.
His mouth is a nice shade of coral, small but pouty and honestly so kissable it hurts to look at it for more than a few seconds. But then, if you move your gaze you find another freckle under his bottom lip and that is dangerous territory because you'd love to kiss that one too.
Everything about Jeongguk's face is soft and delicate until he turns a little to the side, or inches his head backward and you can clearly see the sharpness of his jawline; the manly cut that makes your mouth water and your heart beat faster. Yes, maybe you have developed a crush for your genie and it would definitely not be a wise decision but then again, how do you stop your heart from desiring something?
Your eyes travel a little southern, landing on his open white vest with teal and golden details on his shoulders.
Where his face is soft and gentle, his body is strong and powerful and he makes absolutely no effort to conceal it.
His arms are all muscles and veins that lead to pretty hands—have you ever even looked at hands before you met him?—his shoulders are big and look like the safest place to be held in, his chest is broad and defined and surely the most comfortable pillow to rest your head on.
Your eyes drift towards his firm abdomen, your gaze lingering there as you unconsciously lick your lips, incapable of keeping your thoughts at bay as you are presented, once again, with a body chiseled by the gods.
Whereas his pecs aren't the most defined and sculpted once you've ever seen, he makes up greatly for it when it comes down to his abs.
Before you met Jeongguk, you had never seen abdominal muscles that reached the upper torso in such a precise and perfect definition in real life.
The lines that delineate his muscles almost seem to have been airbrushed in Photoshop and,  if he weren't standing before you right now and you were seeing him for the first time in a photo, you would easily bet a hundred bucks on them being absolutely fake and post-produced.
You love the little curve of his stomach, the way it looks a little bit softer compared to the rock-hard muscles above it and, to be honest, that's the part you prefer the most: his cute belly button, the way those muscles tense inward whenever he laughs too hard at one of your jokes and, further down, the truly mouth-watering little happy trail of fine hair that leads to the golden waistband of his white pants.
You can almost see the curve of his hipbones peeking through the fair fabric and you have to gulp down heavily in order to stop your thoughts from going there.
You abruptly peel off your gaze from him and redirect it towards his face, a mistake you wish you hadn't done because you find him staring right at you, a little questioning look drawn on his face.
You feel the blood quickly rush to your face, turning your skin so uncomfortably hot you almost fan yourself with your hands.
"W-well, it's not as easy as you think," you finally reply, your gaze fixed on anywhere but him, as you try to will your heart rate to slow down a little and your lungs to breathe in some more air.
"Isn't it?" Jeongguk tilts his head to the side, undoubtedly trying to catch your gaze with his own but failing when you refuse to even glance in his general direction.
"Well no because thanks to you I, unfortunately, doubled my freaking standards on males!"
There must be some kind of magical force acting here because not in a million years you would have said that out loud otherwise. The thought that had been ringing in your head ever since he had pronounced his words magically appeared on your tongue and, before you could stop yourself, there it was, hanging in the air like the freaking sword of Damocles.
Jeongguk sports a little grin on his face, clearly not so oblivious to the way he looks and how it affects people around him and, truth be told, you would give anything just to wipe it off from his mouth.
"Have I, now?" He inquires, his voice sickeningly sweet and thick with something that is not curiosity, like his words may suggest, but, rather taunting.
“Oh, please, don’t act like you don’t know how you look like,” you roll your eyes in response to his mocking behavior, gesturing at his whole lean figure for good measure, “I mean, who even has an eight-pack?!”
Jeongguk is fully giggling at your outburst, his cheeks painted in a nice pinkish tone that suggests he appreciates the implied compliment he was given far more than he’s bend to admit.
He’s shaking his head as if he can’t believe what is coming out of your mouth right now, and to be fair, neither do you, especially considering the fact that you are one hundred percent sober.
Your lips protrude forward in a little pout, your eyes glancing at the door to your bedroom without truly seeing it. You are lost in your thoughts again, the desires that have been repressed for long months burning you from the inside out, fighting to be expressed out loud, at last.
"I just wish I could have sex with someone as good looking as you, that’s all... Is that too much to ask?"
You sprawl your body on the bed, your eyes fixing on the ceiling yet again but, this time, it is to avoid the inevitable eye contact with your genie. It may also be to hide the way you are biting down your battered bottom lip in nervousness, and the way little droplets of sweat have gathered around your hairline, the result of blood rushing to your face uncomfortably so.
There is dead silence in the room for a couple of seconds before you hear the sound of clothes rustling, drawing your gaze to the side to fix on him again.
It is with utter horror that you watch him bow before you, a little smirk on his awfully kissable mouth.
"Your every wish my command."
Your heart plummets in your chest, your legs flying to the ground as you stand up in the span of a millisecond, ready to smash him down to a bloody pulp.
“Wait what?! That wasn’t a wish, you ass!”
Jeongguk rises back tall before you, his eyes glinting with mischief and absolutely no sympathy over the fact that you may just have thrown to literal shit one of your three wishes.
"I’m sorry but you can’t take back your wishes.”
"What do you mean I can't take back my wishes?! I didn't even make a fucking wish!"
You are boiling with anger at the way he so clearly took advantage of your little slip of the tongue, completely disregarding the fact that you weren't actually expressing a wish for him to fulfill in the first place.
"I don't make the rules, _______. You made a wish and now I'm going to grant it to you."
He wouldn't be able to hide the amusement glinting in his eyes even if he tried to and a part of you really wants to punch that smirk away from his face, the evident taunt in his features driving you absolutely mad.
Your mind races with thoughts and plans to get you out of this but after a few minutes it is clear that there is no way out, no matter how hard you try to work around it.
"Well...” You say, your voice quivering a little as you weigh down your options in an attempt to get the best out of what you were given, “Can I make it more specific, then? Or does that require another wish to be expressed?”
Your voice is filled with all the insecurity lodged within you, your poor bottom lip getting trapped under the vise of your teeth anew as you stare up to him, butterflies dancing in your stomach and heart spiking up its rate in your chest.
"I will allow it," Jeongguk says, tilting his head a little to the side like puppies do when they don’t understand well what has been said to them. It would be adorable if it weren’t for his eyes shining with cunning curiosity.
“What about someone that resembles you?” Your voices comes out much smaller than you initially anticipated but there is no doubt he has heard you loud and clear.
His eyes are fixed on you, his lips tightly closed in thought as silence hangs between the two of you.
The more he stands perfectly still, without uttering a single word, the more your proximity seems to become uncomfortable, unbearable even.
With all the cards laid out so nicely before him, there is no doubt Jeongguk has picked up on the fact that you have obviously developed a crush on him.
But even if he did, he decides to not address this but, rather, scratching his head a little he utter his next words:
“I’m sorry, but I can’t create someone from thin air. Genies cannot create humans nor kill them or revive them after death.”
You inhale loudly, your eyes drifting to the wall behind him as holding his gaze seems to become an impossible task from here on forward.
It almost feels like the walls around you are crumbling down, allowing him to see the most private and not-so-pretty parts of your soul. Something you never wanted him to see.
“So... if you can’t create someone are you going to summon a real person?”
You are playing with your hands as you say so, trying to wrap up your mind around genie magic and its infinite set of rules that you can’t even begin to comprehend.
“Not exactly,” Jeongguk seems hesitant as he speaks those words, his feet fidgeting as he clicks his tongue, a habit you know means he’s in deep thought—in this case probably trying to figure out the best way to explain to you how his magic works.
“Well... there must be some human being somewhere in this vast world that even remotely resembles...” your words get caught in your throat as you dare to lift your eyes up to meet his. It feels so humiliating to be saying this, finally admitting out loud the grandness of your feelings for him but at the same time, it is not lack of fine male specimen that has stopped you from fucking around in the past few months. It’s the fact that your platonic crush for your genie has made it impossible for every single human to stand a chance against him.
“I am no human being so, no, there is nobody else like me.”
His voice is deep as he stares down at you, all hilarity gone from his gaze as he takes you down, evidently studying you to the point it makes you squirm on the spot. You have never desired to disappear inside the ground as much as you do now. Would that be an acceptable wish to express?
“I see,” your voice is small, your eyes unable to peel off of him now even though you desperately want to, his gaze locking you in place, entrancing with the stars shining like beacons behind them.
“But I guess there is a way for you to have sex with someone like me.” He says after a few seconds, wetting his lips quickly as he scratches his head in uncertainty.
“What do you mean?”
“Well... you could have sex with me.” He bites his bottom lip, his eyes shining with a hint of doubt you have never seen reflected inside of them and it makes your heart stutter in your chest and traps your voice inside your throat whilst you try to process what he has just said.
“Come again?” You whisper after a few seconds, the words rolling off of your tongue feeling like rocks in your mouth as you try to push them out, all heavy and rough around the edges.
Jeongguk gulps down heavily in front of you, his eyes glued on yours as he takes a step forward, forcing you to lift your head up a little to stare back at him.
“Tell me you have never thought about it.” He says, licking his lips as he steadies himself, boldness firing up his words as he slowly musters up the courage to freely speak his mind.
“Tell me you have never dreamed about me and all the things I would do to you.”
His voice seems to drop an entire octave as he presses onward, his words thick with lustiness as if he were trying to seduce you.
Your silence and the way your mouth parts to breathe in loudly seem only to fuel him forward, prompting him to take another step forward.
You can feel the heat radiating from his body, the sweet hint of cinnamon he’s embodied with engulfing you whole and your brain starting to get fuzzy with wanton desire.
“Tell me you have never touched yourself thinking about me, about my tongue teasing your sex, about my fingers moving in and out of you.” His voice is rough and husky and it makes your legs tremble with the tantalizing fantasies his words depict in your head.
When he takes the final step forward, all you can think about is his mouth on top of yours, his hands roaming all over you and as he takes your chin with one hand, caressing your skin as he tips your face forward, your heart drops in your chest.
“Tell me you haven’t imagined how my cock would feel like inside of you and I’ll take back my offer.”
Your mouth suddenly feels as dry as a desert, your mind reeling with the infinite possibilities nicely laid out before you—if nine months worth of wet dreams is anything to go by.
You should jump at the offer, don’t even stop for a whole second to consider it and just take it but there is that little drop of doubt squeezing your heart, making it impossible for you to blindly follow your desires.
“Do you really mean it?” You ask in a whisper, wetting your lips as you search his eyes for any hint of doubt hidden inside them, “I don’t want this unless you truly want it too.”
Jeongguk tips his head a little to the side, inhaling deeply before sighing out loud, his eyes closing for a brief second.
“I thought I had made it clear enough with my words,” he says after a moment, his hands traveling down your body to rest on your hips, slightly guiding them forward until they meet his.
You gasp out loud as you are met with his semi-erection, pressing slightly over your core so to not leave any doubts he desires you just as much as you want him.
“I don’t have to have sex with you,” he whispers, his face moving forward until your noses meet, your lips so close they almost brush against each other, “I want to.”
His warm breath caresses your face as he confesses his own desires out loud, leaving you completely speechless.
In the span of a few seconds, your whole world has been turned upside down by Jeongguk again but you do not stop wondering, you do not waste time asking yourself questions you can always get back to later on. No, as soon as the words are out, your lips are on top of his, claiming his mouth like you desperately desired to do so many times.
He gasps loudly as your hands fly to his hair to pull him down towards you, your fingers getting lost in his locks as you tug on them, forcing him to bend a little forward and welcome the intrusion of your tongue.
Jeongguk tastes like a summer drink: refreshing and sweet and so much more than you ever imagined or wished for.
His lips are as soft as cotton and they feel like heaven against your own, pressing and pulling on the supple flesh until you’re sighing for him, relishing in how amazing it feels to finally have him like this.
His hands slide down from your hips to reach behind your back and tightly clasp around the curve of your bottom cheeks.
“Jeongguk,” you whisper atop his mouth, opening your eyes to fix your gaze in his shining ones.
His lips are all red, slick with your saliva and so incredibly inviting you fear you may never want to stop kissing him for as long as you are breathing.
He touches your nose with the tip of his own, his hands engulfing your butt cheeks a little roughly, making you whimper in return.
His palms come to rest under your ass, pushing you upwards until your legs are encircling his waist and your arms are clasped behind his neck.
In this position he is the one that has to look up to you, his head bent a little to the side so he can still gaze inside your eyes.
If you thought the way Jeongguk looked at you before was heartwarming, now you are met with the raging fire summoned by his love-struck-like gaze.
He inches his chin forward, flicking your nose a little with his own, a shy smile on his lips as he silently asks the permission to claim your lips anew.
You nod your head yes, holding your breath as your eyes close for him, waiting for his mouth.
Jeongguk’s kiss is slow and delicate at first, it’s drawn out in a way that makes you want more, so much more, and at the same time, it’s precious and laced with not only the passion of the moment but also the tenderness of a first time together.
It makes your insides twitch and your heart hurt and it fogs up all of your thoughts to the point you feel yourself drowning in the sensation of his lips, pressed tightly on your own.
It’s maddening and exciting and a little bit scary because how will you go about your life now that you actually know what it feels like to be kissed by him, held by him so tight your bodies may even merge together.
Your heart is beating like a maniac in your chest and you pull him even closer, so tight your chests have no choice but heave against each other with every single breath you take. You don’t want to let him go, ever.
And these thoughts turn you desperate, they force you to make the kiss deeper, to lick his lips and bite them down, to gulp down every sigh and whimper that comes out of him and make them your own.
“I want you so much,” you whisper and in those words, there is much more than the initial layer. You want to feel him inside of you, on top of you, all around you but most importantly you want him for yourself and not just for one single night.
But you do not dare say it out loud, you do not dare taint this moment with the depth of your emotions in fear of ruining it, of shying him away. It may hurt in the long run but at least, you will have one memory you share together to go by.
Right now, he wants you just as much as you want him and maybe it’s not the same kind of desire but you’d still take everything he has to offer.
“Then take me,” he purrs out in your ear, kissing lightly the soft skin of your neck as he slowly puts you down on your own two feet again.
You wet your lips quickly, your breath coming out in hot puffs of air as your hands immediately fly to his vest, roughly pushing it past his shoulders and then down his arms. You are completely blinded by the passion burning inside of you, your hands eager to explore and touch every expanse of his golden skin. No, not just that. You want to taste him.
Your lips attack his neck, all rough and passionate on the tender skin, blooming purple roses against it until he’s softly moaning out your name, his hands pulling you closer so that you won’t stop torturing his flesh in the best ways possible.
Jeongguk emits the most beautiful sounds your ears have ever heard. He whines and sighs and grunts for you, he closes his eyes as he parts his lips to whimper out your name with every new thing you find that excites him and it drives you absolutely insane. You can’t stop wondering how he would sound like as you fuck him hard, rock on his cock to milk his orgasm, make him beg not to stop. God, you desperately want to break him and draw all these nice sounds out of him.
Your lips are scorching hot against his naked skin and he shivers as you start kissing him along the line of his clavicles, slowly moving south to his pecks and even further, to the object of your current desire: his muscular abs.
Your tongue darts out of your mouth to taste the tight and firm skin and he whimpers again at the sensation, throwing his head a little backward as his fingers grasp your hair.
It feels like breaking him little by little and you can only imagine how good he will sound once your undivided attention is finally on his cock.
A wicked smile spreads on your lips as you keep kissing and licking the expanse of his abs, particularly focusing on the supple flesh around his belly button.
Your once rough kisses turn gentler as you keep inching downwards, exploring the trail of hair that leads to the treasure still concealed by his white pants. Goosebumps gather on his skin as your lips turn even softer, barely pressing over the flesh whilst your nose nuzzles forward, teasing him a little with the briefest of contacts.
You lift your gaze upwards, smiling when you find his eyes trained on you, focused on your every movement. His pupils are blown out and his hair disheveled with your previous kissing session making him look already well-fucked while you haven’t even started yet.
Keeping your gaze locked on his, you move your hands behind his back, reaching for the firm curve of his ass only to grasp the golden waistband of his pants.
You slide them down slowly, your eyes taunting him as you keep studying his face, the way he bites his lips in anticipation or gulps down heavily at the prospect ahead of him.
As the soft fabric of his pants moves past the curve of his ass, consequently sliding down his legs, you watch him shudder and bite his bottom lip in foretaste and it is that sight that prompts you to look down again, seeking a glimpse at the treasure hidden between his legs.
Your breath trembles as you exhale loudly at the vision laid before your very eyes. Jeongguk's cock stands almost fully erected before you in all its glory—his underwear nowhere to be seen—ready to receive the attention it so desperately seeks.
As you stand up before him again, mouth watering with the prospect of finally having him all for your self, you offer a hand for him to grab. His fingers intertwine with your own effortlessly and it is a simple touch really, nothing to compare with the activities you have been sharing thus far but still, it makes your heart leap in your chest and a smile spread on your lips.
Without uttering a single word you slowly guide him to your bed to make him sit on the edge of your soft mattress.
His legs automatically spread nicely for you as he tilts his head upwards, looking up at you expectantly.
With a soft smile you inch forward, quickly capturing his lips with your own yet again while your left hand slides down from his neck to his pecks, your fingers slightly grazing his skin as you move southward, taunting him with your slow movements and relishing in the way his muscles start to tense more the closer you get to his sex.
He whimpers on your mouth as soon as your fingers graze the surface of his length with the softest of touches and you smirk atop his lips, rejoicing in the way he so easily reacts to your every movement.
“Someone’s a little eager,” you whisper, searching for his eyes with a little taunting smile on your lips.
“Don’t tease, please.” His voice is thick, his eyes big and staring at you in a puppy-like fashion that makes your heart hurt. How can someone be this hot and cute at the same damn time? In an instant, you want to devour him whole, make him beg you to let him cum inside of you and then let him ruin you completely in return.
You take a step forward to sit on top of his muscular right thigh, your lips so close to his mouth that your breaths start to mingle whilst you slowly rock your hips forward on top of him.
Your fingers wrap around the base of his cock, slowly gliding upwards in delicate and tentative strokes that will bring him a little pleasure without the risk of you chafing him in the process.
“I want to touch you,” he whimpers out, his eyes pleading as he looks up at you.
You watch him gulp down heavily as your hips roll a little faster over his thigh, you watch his pupils dilate as your mouth opens in a sigh of pleasure given by the nice friction his toned muscles provide on your fully clothed core.
You nod your head yes in response, your breath quickened by the excitement coiling nicely in your belly and he jumps at the chance of finally putting his hands all over you.
It is such a juxtaposition for him to act this way—all needy and submitted to your desires—when only a few instants ago he was being all confident and cocky but it is also utterly endearing and new for you, at the same time.
His fingers are timid as they approach your skin, slowly infiltrating under your shirt to finally caress your flesh and burn it with his digits, imprint his passage on every inch of your body.
His touch is soft at first as he scans your entire upper body with his hands but as soon as he finds the supple curve of your uncovered tits, he turns rougher, needier.
Your hand is still taunting his cock, your thumb teasing his head ever so slightly to draw out unsteady breaths and little whimpers out of him.
You catch up the glint in his eyes as he keeps tugging on your shirt, hoping to make it ride a little higher and expose your entire chest to him, and with a silent grin, you help him get the garment off of you and give him the treat he so desperately desired to receive.
His mouth is on your chest in the span of a few seconds, his tongue playing with your nipples with the same rhythm of your hand around is now fully erected cock.
Your back arches a little for him, your mouth opening in a silent moan as the wetness of your underwear begins to uncomfortably stick to your slick sex.
You gulp down heavily as you still your hips on top of him, your tongue daring out of your mouth to lick your dry lips and slow down the rampant beating of your heart.
He looks up at you ardently as you rise on your feet again, releasing your hold on his cock just long enough for you to get rid of your sweat pants and stand before him in nothing but your very flimsy pair of white panties.
He bites down his bottom lip as he stares up at you, his arms inching forward to grasp your hips and guide you back to him so he can keep studying and mapping every crevice of your body.
He kisses your stomach, nuzzles his nose between your tits to inhale loudly the sweet scent of your skin and you shiver under him, sighing in pleasure at the simplest of touches.
“Can I ride your dick?” You ask in a breath, your eyes searching for his to gauge his response to your lewd question.
“Fuck,” he whimpers out, his eyes almost rolling back inside his head just at the thought of having you above him, fucking him to completion, “Please do.”
You push him down the mattress with your hands to quickly climb on top of him, your legs straddling his hips as you inch a little forward to capture his lips.
His hands are firm around the curve of your ass, guiding your hips up and down to create a little friction between his hard cock and your clothed sex.
The sensation of his girth between your slick lips is already enough to make you sigh for him and as you do he takes the chance to slip his tongue past your teeth and inside your mouth. The kiss is scorching hot, it leaves you breathless and desperate to finally feel him inside of you and as soon as one of his hands is between your legs, you turn a whimpering mess for him.
He pushes your panties to the side and if the lewd sound your underwear emits as he pushes it away from your sex is anything to go by, you must be soaking wet at this point.
He inhales sharply atop your lips, cutting the kiss short so that he can focus on the little bundle of nerves between your legs.
You have been dreaming about his hands for literal months and yet they feel like nothing you have experienced before.
His little circular motions are slow and deep and they make your stomach contract in waves of pleasure.
“Oh, Jeongguk,” you moan his name and he attaches his mouth to the base of your neck to suck on the tender flesh and tint it a dark shade of purple.
A sob escapes your mouth as he pushes a finger inside of you, stretching your walls with its dragged out circular motions in and out of your core.
Jeongguk may have looked like a needy sub up to this point but there is no doubt he really knows what he is doing.
He finds your pleasure spots with utter ease and he is not afraid to hit on them with sheer precision to draw all the beautiful sounds out of your mouth.
“I want to fuck you,” you whimper out after a while and he chuckles a little, quickly retrieving his exploring fingers from inside of you.
As he pushes his back on the mattress again his expectant eyes focus on you anew, a little smirk on his mouth.
You visibly shiver as he brings his coated finger to his lips and sucks on the slick digit.
You lick your lips a few times as you watch his tongue dart out of his mouth to keep licking his finger in a lewd depiction of what he would do if that were to be your sex instead of his own digit.
Fire seems to be burning inside of you as you hastily remove your underwear and align your core to his turgid cock, eager to finally feel him inside of you.
Your hand grips his shaft by the balls, keeping it perfectly still as you gradually sink onto him, welcoming him past your slick walls.
He inhales loudly, closing his eyes as you slowly keep pushing yourself down, meeting his cock to its fullest potential until he is completely lodged inside of you, stretching your walls in a blissful way that makes you sigh in pleasure.
You stay perfectly still for a few second, willing your core to relax and adjust to the intrusion of his girth while your left hand reaches behind your back to squeeze his balls and add pleasure to the feeling of your walls slightly contracting all around him.
He hisses at the new sensation, biting his bottom lip to gulp down the heavenly sounds you love to hear from him and you retaliate by squeezing him harder, almost painfully so, until he is forced to cry out loud.
“Don’t hold back,” you whisper into his ear as you lean forward to steal another kiss from him, “I want to hear you scream.”
Jeongguk whines at your words, his bottom lip protruding forward into a little pout as he stares right inside your eyes.
“Fuck me,” he whimpers out, his hips slightly rotating against your own in his desperate search for some friction, “Please.”
Your eyes almost roll back inside your head at the needy tone his words are laced with. All the power he has bestowed upon you is making you dizzy, mad with the desire of taunting him until he breaks and begs for more.
You lift your hips a little and then roughly sink onto him again, relishing in the sound of your ass cheeks smacking his thighs and balls in the process.
Tilting your head a little backward you start rolling your hips forward for him, your bottom lip trapped under your teeth and your hands roughly grasping the soft skin of your breasts.
“Fuck you’re so hot,” he whispers as he looks up at you and the way you keep taunting him with your hands roaming all over your own body, with the little sighs of ecstasy you emit every time he exhales loudly in pleasure.
Resting your palms onto his pecs to keep yourself balanced, you readjust your pace to a rather rough and bruising one that has you whimpering and sighing for his heavenly cock, for the way it seems to be getting even bigger as time progresses and pleasure arises inside both of you.
Soon enough your room is filled with the lewd sounds of skin smacking on skin, of deep moans and low grunts, of lips desperately searching and finding each other in the blindness of desire.
“Ugh, you take my cock so well.”
Jeongguk is breathing fast beneath you, his sighs turning into full out high-pitched moans that make your insides clench with arousal. Every single one of his words or needy sounds works as fuel for the fire burning between your legs and it makes you even more eager to make him burst inside of you and come all over him in return.
“Am I living up to your dreams?” He asks after a few seconds, his eyebrows furrowed as he searches the answer inside your eyes.
“Yes, you are, ugh, you feel so good Gukie.”
The little nickname seems to work wonders on him as he grunts in response, his hands almost turning bruising around your hips as he starts guiding them down, forcing you to pick up your pace a little more.
“Harder, fuck me harder.” He pleads, closing his eyes while his mouth opens to form a silent ‘O’, the only inkling of the deep pleasure you are giving him he seems capable of showing right now.
You lift yourself up a little higher to plant your feet on the mattress and sink into him harder just like he asked for, desperate to please him and be pleased at the same time.
Jeongguk’s breaths turn even louder—his diaphragm contracting madly beneath you— his sobs a little bit more desperate as his orgasm draws nearer and nearer by the second.
“Aww, faster baby, please.”
His nails start digging the soft flesh of your ass and you whimper at both the pain and the pleasure the roughness provides, his hips start rocking upwards to try and fasten up your pace by meeting you halfway and bring himself over the edge.
The battering speed inside your pussy is heart-stopping, the head of his cock reaching your G spot with utter precision is absolutely devastating and it has you whimpering for him in a matter of seconds.
Your walls madly contract around him, squeezing him even tighter and making it almost impossible for him to resist any longer.
“Are you going to soil my pretty cock, uh?” He asks in a whine, his eyes searching for yours as he realizes your orgasm is as close as his very own.
“Yeah, oh-shit, I’m-I’m gonna cum all over you, Gukie.”
He growls at your words and you roll your hips even faster in response, chasing your release so desperately it almost hurts.
“Are you going to fill my pussy up?” You ask in a breath, mirroring his own question as you feel the wave of pleasure rushing from your head down to your core.
As your walls start to spasmodically contract all around him you feel him getting stiff beneath you, his breath getting caught in his lungs with the depth of his pleasure finally exploding in and out of him.
“Aww, fuck, fuck, fuuuuck.” His deep moan is followed by the sensation of his cock pulsing inside of you in unison to the spasms of your core and the one of his release milking your insides with generous spurts of white nectar.
By the time you both come down from your highs you are sprawled all over his body, his soft cock lying between your stomachs as you rest your head above his heaving chest, your legs nicely mingled together.
“That was mind-blowing,” you whisper making him chuckle as he encircles your frame with his strong arms.
His gaze is warm now, softer, and it makes you wish to stay like this for the rest of your lifetimes.
“Jeonggukie?” You ask in a whisper, making him tilt his head to the side with a questioning look on his face.
“I want to make another wish,” you confess, blood rushing all to your head as you tilt it upwards to stare back at him.
“Tell me,” his right hand comes to rest on your cheek, slightly guiding your face forward to place a tender kiss atop your lips.
“I want to have sex with you again.”
“When?” He breaths out, not a single hint of hesitation in his voice, signaling you he wants it just as much as you do.
“Now.”
“Your every wish is my command,” he replies, a playful smirk tugging on his lips as you lift yourself up and slowly make your descent towards his soft cock.
There has been this desire stuck in your mind ever since you undressed him and as you come to a halt between his legs, Jeongguk is made aware of your lewd intentions rather quickly.
His sex is covered in both your juices and a few drops of his own cum. To you, it looks like an absolute feast.
You lick your lips expectantly, pointing your eyes on his face as you open up your mouth to let your tongue do the trick.
You lap at his warm skin to gather up all the spilled remnants of your orgasms and he visibly shudders at the sensation of your scratchy muscle working on his flesh.
Jeongguk closes his eyes as you come closer and closer to his cock, already foretasting the moment your lips will close around it and work it to hardness anew.
You take your long-ass-time though, opting for a rather teasing pace and kitten licks that make him tremble and whine in annoyance when you keep getting so close to his sex while remaining so impossibly away from it.
“You really are a tease,” he mumbles under his breath, his head tilted forward so he can stare at you as you giggle in response.
“And you really are impatient, Gukie.” He shivers at your words and you tilt your head to the side, a playful smile tugging on your lips as you study his features.
“Do you like that? Me calling you Gukie?”
He hums in response, biting his bottom lip as if in deep thought and maybe he is, trying to decide whether he should elaborate on the reason why or not.
Either way, he doesn’t really get a chance to add on it because your mouth is all around him in an instant and he has a hard time breathing all of a sudden.
He whimpers a little as you suck on his soft flesh, your mouth slurping him loudly as if you were sucking on a candy.
“Ah! Damn.”
His abs contract as you suck on him a little bit harder, coaxing his dick to a new erection.
Your tongue darts out of your mouth to swiftly lick his head as you pointedly look up at him to study all the little twists on his features, learning what he likes and what he doesn’t.
Your left hand reaches between his legs to squeeze his balls and he whines as you do so, his eyes rolling back inside his head.
You can feel his cock hardening as you lick a long stripe from the base of his length up to his head again.
“You taste so good, Gukie.”
You mumble on top of his reddened flesh before engulfing him completely in your mouth again. Your jaw is slack and your cheeks are hollowed as you suck on him as hard as you can, closing your eyes to hum as his flavor invades your taste buds.
His hands come to grasp your hair, locking you in place above his cock, begging you to not stop anytime soon.
You let him guide your head, adjust your bobbing to his preferred pace and bask in the sighs of ecstasy that come out from his mouth, especially the ones that sound a lot like your name.
“Wait-” he whines after a while, his hands leaving your head to grasp the bed sheets, his chest heaving with the effort of keeping his orgasm at bay, “Wait or I’ll come in your mouth.”
You consider pushing forward, bring him to his knees and let him fill up your mouth, feeling his essence coil down your throat and invade your belly but, in the end, you lift your head up and with a lewd pop, you leave his cock alone to stand perfectly tall before you, glistening with your saliva.
“How are you so good at sucking cocks?” He mumbles, more to himself than to you but you still giggle in response, quirking your eyebrows at him.
“I’m a natural talent,” you reply before tauntingly licking your lips. ‘Talent and lots of experience here at college, actually,’ but he doesn’t really need to know that, does he?
“Can I try something, though?” You ask biting your bottom lip in uncertainty. There are plenty of things you have never tried before but have been dying to for a while now and Jeongguk makes you want to explore all of them, all at the same time.
“Anything,” he promptly replies, his eagerness so endearing you can’t help but giggle again. Who knew Jeongguk had this much cuteness in him? Surely you had no idea prior to this very night.
You slowly roll off the bed, your knees hitting the ground as you drag him with you to the edge of the mattress again.
Jeongguk’s gaze is fixed on you, curiosity shining in his pupils as he studies your every movement, eager to discover what exactly you have in store for him.
You arch your back a little to align your chest to his erected cock standing tall in front of you, ready to be the center of your undivided attention again.
Your hands start caressing your breasts, bringing them together to squeeze his sex between them and give it a nice deep stroke.
Jeongguk’s breath trembles, his body shuddering at the new sensation and you look up at him earnestly, trying to adjust your pace to something that will bring him real pleasure.
You tilt your head a little forward as you gather some saliva in your mouth to coat his cock with in the absence of lube.
Jeongguk seems to find the visual particularly exciting as he grunts at the image depicted before him.
A smile spreads on your lips as a new idea surfaces in your mind, then.
You spread your legs a little further to stabilize yourself on the ground while bending your neck all the way forward, ready to welcome the head of his cock inside your mouth with each passing stroke of your tits.
"Oh, fuck." Jeongguk's high-pitched whine encourages you further, prompting you to set on a pace that is bound to make him crumble in the span of a few minutes.
Maybe it's because you told him not to hold back earlier or maybe he is just incapable of gulping down all of his lovely sounds but, yet again, Jeongguk is turned into a whimpering and moaning mess and each one of his little mewls makes your walls contract on thin air.
You unconsciously start bringing your legs closer to rub your thighs against each other, hopelessly seeking for a little friction on your neglected core.
Your arousal is dripping down your sex, coiling in big rivulets on your inner thighs, making them slick and slippery.
"I'm-" Jeongguk wets his dry lips, his pants already giving away what he is trying to say but you do play innocent, pretending not to know what exactly you are doing to him.
"Do you want me to come like this?" He asks in a breath, his hands fisting the covers while the muscles of his thighs contract in the effort of keeping himself steady.
Your mouth turns a little rougher on the head of his cock, your silence perfectly proving your point.
"I-ah! I want to make one of your wet dreams r-real" He confesses in a whine, his eyes closing and eyebrows furrowing with the incessant waves of pleasure that keep rushing over his body, menacing to bring him down.
"Is this what you dreamt of? Me coming in your mouth like this?"
You slow down your movements, your mouth leaving his cock again as you ponder his words. The answer would be no, actually. You had never dreamed about doing this with him and despite the excitement of the act, you do have to admit that what he is offering right now sounds far more tempting.
"Not exactly," you confess, your voice a little hoarse.
"Tell me," his voice suddenly turns sharp, losing all the needy and sweet tone he stuck with for the rest of the night and transforming into something more demanding.
You can't help but shiver at his sudden character switch and he is quick to catch up on it, to the way you instantly start biting down your bottom lip at his words.
His once gentle hands turn hard on your body as he lifts you up only to roughly throw you on the bed.
He climbs on top of you with no hesitation, fire burning in his eyes as he kisses your lips with a new-found fervor.
You whimper in the kiss, your fingers grasping his sweaty locks of hair to pull him even closer and feel his erection pressed atop your core.
"You like it a little rough, don't you?" He asks, his voice husky as he puts a hand around your neck, slightly pressing over your carotid to cut down the oxygen income.
"I-I do," you reply, your bottom lip trembling with excitement as he rolls his hips on top of yours.
This Jeongguk is the one that has been haunting your dreams ever since you met him but, after discovering his other side too you find yourself unable to decide which side you actually prefer: the one that likes to be teased, tortured and submitted or the one that loves to be rough, dominate and break his partner.
He pries your legs open with his hands, his mouth sliding down your neck so he can bite the tender flesh and leave his mark there, in plain sight.
The pain is sharp for a second, making you yelp, but as warmth spreads over your skin it is quickly subdued by pleasure and the feeling of his tongue lapping the battered skin.
Jeongguk slides his cock inside of you with one swift movement right in that moment and you whimper at the sudden feeling of being filled again by his rock-hard length.
Your eyes close as he keeps pushing deeper inside of you, seemingly only satisfied when he is completely lodged inside of you and ready to fuck your brains out.
Jeongguk's strokes are slow, dragged out to the point it makes you want to scream in frustration. He almost slides his cock completely out of you and then slams it right back in with one single stroke, making you jump as he hits the perfect spot with maddening precision.
You know he is doing this on purpose to get back to you and make you beg for it just like you did with him. Still, you don't give him the satisfaction of bringing you over the edge this easily, this quickly.
You endure it, closing your eyes and grasping the crumpled bed covers, biting your bottom lip to hide any sign of both pleasure and frustration.
"You want to play though, uh?" He asks as he fists your hair, forcing your head to lift off the bed and directly face him, "Two can play this game, baby."
A wicked smirk appears on his features making you shiver in anticipation, his eyes glinting with mischief as he lets go of your head only to focus on his cock, slowly moving in and out of your slick core.
His hands find purchase under your ribs, guiding you forward until your legs are resting on his shoulders and he has complete access to your sex.
With the new position, he wastes absolutely no time to slam inside of you with all the strength he is capable of, instantly making you mewl in pleasure.
You try to bite your bottom lip again, you try to gulp down all the sounds you want to emit out loud but as he starts pounding inside of you, it proves to be an impossible task.
The taste of blood fills your mouth as the tender flesh breaks under the vise of your own teeth and you are forced to let go of the poor battered flesh, consequently giving up your resolve of not showing him how much you are enjoying this change of scenario.
Without a force helping you contain your moans, they flood out of you like water from a broken dike and they quickly fill the room alongside his grunts and the heavy sounds of skin slapping on skin.
He pushes himself forward, bringing your legs with him so that you are almost folded in half, unable to escape his bruising pace inside of you.
"Jeongguk," you whimper out for him, your eyes searching his dark pools as your chest starts to heave with your panting breaths.
He rolls his hips harder into you in response, making your eyes roll back inside your head, your jaw turning slack as your mouth opens in a silent moan of pleasure.
You feel your walls starting to spasm, your legs quivering a little with your incumbent release and you start to fear he might retreat, edge you and denial your orgasm in order to make you cry out loud and beg him to let you come but what he does, instead, is roll his hips faster and throw you over that edge completely.
Your ears start ringing as the orgasm fully takes over your thoughts, blanketing them with white cotton.
His cock still hammers inside of you, milking your orgasm incessantly, ready to throw you back into it as soon as it seems like it has washed out of you.
It almost feels like too much having him still inside you like this, battering your pleasure spot so tirelessly but the slight discomfort gets washed away by bliss again in the span of a few seconds.
"Fuuuck," you whimper out, the word dragged out by your ragged breath.
His mouth finds yours again at this moment, ready to completely steal your breath away and leave you absolutely breathless.
Slowly, he draws a little backward, allowing your legs to fall on top of his as he repositions himself, turning you a little to the side so that he can rest right behind you.
You immediately turn your head behind your back, eager to keep your eyes on him and watch him come inside of you for the second time tonight. You do not want to miss a single twist in his features as he keeps fucking you like this.
His hands keep you firmly in place as he resumes his pace inside of you, effort and arousal painted all over his features as he chases his own release.
Even when he is being rough like this, bent on breaking you into pieces, he is letting out those heavenly sounds that captivated you in the first place tonight.
They are absolutely intoxicating, they ring like music to your ears and if you could hear a single sound for the rest of your life it would be exactly this: his moans and the sound of your name on his lips.
You can sense his orgasm nearing by the way his hips start losing their perfect pattern, by the way his breath is hitting your ear more rapidly and by how more high-pitched his moans are turning as time progress.
You purposefully contract your walls around him, making him grunt at the sensation, giving him that slight more push towards the verge of his release.
One of his hands lets go of your hip to travel forward, his fingers quickly finding your clit to draw large and deep circles over the bundle of nerves to bring you over the finish line in unison with him again.
The arousing sensation makes it hard for you to stop your hips from eagerly rolling onto his, following the movement of both his hand on your sex and his cock inside of you.
He comes inside of you with a low and deep moan that makes your walls contract and your mouth moan loudly for him in return.
Your body quivers for the third time tonight before turning into absolute jelly, shutting down in defeat.
Silence engulfs you whole and for a moment you think you may actually drift off to sleep like this, with the warmth of Jeongguk's body behind you and the reassurance of his presence by your side.
It is actually him that stirs you back into consciousness, bringing you closer to his chest so that his lips can brush against your ear.
"Was that how dream-Jeongguk did it?" He asks, chuckling a little over his own question.
You turn inside his embrace so that you can face him and shake your head no with a little smile on your lips.
"No, this Jeongguk is actually better."
His smile is full of pride as he steals a quick kiss from your mouth.
It is so endearing to watch him get back to his more cute side but again, it makes your heart hurt. As you rest like this, looking up at him, the misery of your situation awakens back inside of you.
There is no doubt by now that you have feelings for this boy right here, very big ones at that, and it is something clearly impossible, something you have to forget and pretend like it never existed.
It is with that fear of tomorrow in mind that you open up your mouth again, your eyes shining with the menace of tears.
Jeongguk seems to read your mind again tonight as he quickly presses his finger on top of your mouth.
"Don't. Don't say it."
His eyes turn serious as he stares down at you, all warmth and banter quickly disappearing from his features.
"Don't waste your last wish on me." He adds, his voice thick with emotion as he gulps down heavily, almost as if he were fighting against tears himself.
"Once your last wish is fulfilled I'll have to go back inside the lamp and we will never get to see each other again."
You nod your head a little because he has already explained this to you, yet, you still want to make another wish, extend this moment for as long as possible, rejoice in it while it lasts.
Jeongguk shakes his head no a few times, hugging you closer as if afraid you'd disappear in front of him when, actually, it would be him turning into a teal fog before your very eyes, leaving you alone to deal with a broken heart.
"There is no need to make a wish when I'd gladly stay here with you for as long as you'll want me to."
His left hand caresses your head lovingly, his eyes pleading you to let him finish, to not shatter this moment and turn it into your last one together.
"And I'll gladly make love to you whenever you want to and not because a wish binds us together, but because I want it too."
Before you know it, there are tears falling on your cheeks, turning your vision hazy as the real meaning behind his words finally hits you.
All this time, you had no idea. You didn't know that his eyes were always on you because he couldn't look away; you didn't know that he kept asking about your wishes not because he wanted to move on but because he was afraid of doing so; you didn't know that when he was granting you that first wish he was actually granting himself his own.
"Don't cry," he whispers on your lips, his thumbs drying your hot skin as a smile finally spreads on your lips.
It is happy tears that keep flooding from your eyes because it feels like a dream, a fantasy you'll have to wake up from eventually but it is not. Not this time.
And tonight, Jeongguk makes you his again but this time it is slow, gentle and sweet; this time he keeps whispering loving words inside your ears and kissing your lips to steal away all your beautiful whimpers and make them his own. This time, as you come together in each other's embrace, there is more than passion shining in your eyes. There is love.
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Copyright © 2019 by jeonggukingdom. All rights reserved.
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baepsaets · 5 years
Text
eight’s a crowd pt. 4 ~ bts
pairing: ot7 x reader
rating: sfw
word count: 6.6k
summary: you’re a bighit staff member in charge of stage set-up when you find yourself inexplicably drawn to the very seven men you’re setting stage for. soulmate au!
a/n: everyone... my beautiful followers... i’m so sorry it took me so long to post this! there will be one final part after this that will include smut. also i went to see aquaman tonight and it was so good. having jason momoa and amber heard kicking ass in the same movie made my little bi heart quiver lmao. also i want mommy nicole kidman to spank me with a trident. enjoy this update and i hope everyone has been having happy holidays!
disclaimer: i always put a read more in my fanfiction, but it does not always work on tumblr mobile. this fic has a read more already in place.
part 01 02 03 04 05
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You were adjusting the sounding system in the pit when you felt a sudden weight on your back. You startled and turned around and found yourself pressed against Jae, who coddled you like a baby. He smelled like cologne and alcohol and something mechanical, vaguely oily and coppery.
“(Y/N),” he groaned, drawing your name out into one long sigh. If you weren’t so caught off-guard, you would have laughed. “We’re leaving early today!”
He was leaving early today. It was the last concert before the unimaginable—a month-long break. Set-up crew got to leave a whole half-day early, leaving mid-crew to pick up a little of their slack. But you knew they deserved it, especially since they’d been short-handed after you left.
It was hard to imagine that it had been a whole month since you’d switched to mid-crew, and even longer since you’d met Bangtan. Sometimes, it didn’t feel real. You missed your old set-up crewmen, but it was hard to miss them too much when there were seven other people around to eagerly keep you company.
Jae’s bag was already slung over his shoulder, and you knew he was about to leave. Your break didn’t technically start until after the concert tonight, and true to mid-crew form, you’d be staying with Bangtan wherever they went. The thought filled you with unimaginable excitement—for a month, you’d get to be with them without having to worry about work or scheduling.
“Remember to teeeeeeeext,” Jae slurred, clutching you to his chest. You patted his shoulder awkwardly, face smushed into his clavicle. “You never teeeeeeext anymore.”
“I text you every day,” you complained, your voice muffled by his flannel.
“But it’s not enoooooough,” he moaned. He was probably already a little intoxicated—a few people in set-up crew had already broken out a bottle of vodka in celebration, and no doubt Jae had already indulged.
You asked, incredulous, “How much more do you want?”
“I don’t care. I miss you,” he admitted, and you cooed at his cuteness.
“I miss you, too,” you laughed, pulling away from him. “But you need to get on the bus before they leave without you.”
“They would never,” Jae scoffed, but you raised an eyebrow. Sungjin would. Oh, Sungjin so would. And you could tell in his gaze that he realized that, too. “Okay, okay. I’m leaving. But I love you! I’ll text! Don’t think just because you’re famous now that you can get rid of me!”
He said this all while walking backward, voice raising with every sentence. Some of your other mid-crewmen stared at you curiously, and you waved Jae away in embarrassment. Your good rapport as a hard-worker had carried to your new job, but you still didn’t know the rest of mid-crew well enough to be weird in front of them.
You weren’t famous by any definition of the term, but you’d garnered a certain amount of attention in the past month. It was impossible not to, considering at least one member of Bangtan was around you every day. It was easy to pass off some of it as work, but the rest of the crew had to at least suspect that your professional relationship with them went deeper. No one had said anything about it, at least not to your face, and you were grateful that at least a portion of the people you worked with knew how to mind their own business.
Working for another hour, you were finally setting up the last of the lighting equipment. You were usually the quickest crewmember to finish your work, simply because set-up crew had conditioned you so well. When you finished early, you either helped set up the rest of the venue or went to seek out Bangtan to see if they had any time to hang. Because their schedule was so packed, they usually didn’t, but it was still nice just to see them. Their faces would light up whenever they caught sight of you, even to this day.
You reached up to adjust the light, and a warm pair of arms wrapped around your waist. Electricity buzzed through your body immediately. “Hey, baby.”
“Oh, my God,” you exclaimed. “Why is everyone sneaking up on me today?”
“Not happy to see me?”
You turned your head and saw Jimin smiling, bottom lip tugged between his teeth. He fake-pouted, and you had to suppress the sudden desire to wrap him in a hug and never let him go.
“I’m always happy to see you,” you replied, before you could stop yourself. Your face flushed, but so did his, which was your favorite thing about him—at least you could make him blush, too.
Jimin pressed his cheek against the back of your neck hard, and then released you. You kept tinkering, despite the sudden distraction.
“I’m glad you’re here,” you said. “The sound system on the left side burnt out this morning. We were able to replace it, but the sound check before the concert is probably gonna start early.”
Jimin grunted in acknowledgement, and you continued talking, back still facing him.
“And you need to be careful. There’s a slick spot by the—,”
“Mhmm,” Jimin hummed. His voice was closer than you expected and you turned around, freezing when you realized he was right behind you. Jimin’s mouth curled into a small smile, and he reached out to tuck a hunk of escaped hair behind your ear. “You look good in that sweater.”
“Thank you,” you replied automatically, but your heart stuttered.
Out of all Bangtan, Jimin was the touchiest. He was the one who complimented you the most, voice edging on flirting. Whenever he smiled his teasing smile, your face would heat up hot enough to fry an egg on your forehead.
“Can we stop by your hotel room after the concert?”
He could have asked you to commit second-degree murder and you probably would have agreed to it, if he kept looking at you like that. “Yeah, s-sure. I mean, yes. If it’s okay with BangPD and everyone.”
“We already approved it,” he grinned, unconsciously leaning closer. You could feel the heat radiating off his body. To the outside world the two of you may have looked like a couple, but in the past month, you’d slowly learned how to let go of the world’s opinion. You didn’t care what they assumed about your relationship unless it negatively affected Bangtan’s career.
“Oh?” you asked, smiling your own teasing smile. “Were you that confident I’d agree?”
Jimin’s face flushed, and that was normal for him, too—always so flirty, until the teasing was turned on him. Then he became a shy mess. “Well, I mean—not that we knew you’d agree, but you usually—and then we, um—,”
You couldn’t help but smile at his cute stuttering, but then your smile faded, stamped down by the sudden guilt and confusion bubbling in your chest.
When you’d first started hanging out with Bangtan, dazzled and starstruck, you’d thought whatever silly crush you had on them would fade. After getting to know them, you’d thought you’d come to love them only platonically.
But your crush—or should you say, crushes—spiraled completely out of control. Bangtan had thoroughly swept you off your feet.
How could you have fallen for seven different men? Being alone with each of them, or several at a time, filled you with such a strong happiness that was only rivaled by how you felt when the eight of you were together. Then, the world felt clicked into place, like a weight you didn’t even realize you were carrying was lifted off your shoulders.
“I need to get back to work,” you told him, taking a step back. Distance. You needed to create some distance, no matter how much it hurt. “We can talk about it later, okay?”
“Okay,” Jimin replied, pouting. You resisted the urge to pull him to your chest and coo.
You moved to turn around, but before you could, Jimin dipped closer for a split second and pressed his lips against your cheek. Face flaming, you turned to him with mouth agape, but Jimin was already backing away toward the door, lips curled in a teasing smile.
After he left, you absent-mindedly rubbed your cheek, still feeling the tingling imprint of his mouth on your skin.
Ten minutes later, your phone buzzed in your pocket, signaling a text. It vibrated again. And then a third time. It must be the group chat you were in with Bangtan, which could get ridiculously active. You glanced around for your manager and snuck your phone out of your pocket, just when it started vibrating multiple times in a row.
Namjoon, 1:35pm: So, party in (Y/N)’s room tonight?
Hoseok, 1:36pm: SWEET i’ll give the staff money to go buy snacks
Jimin, 1:38: remember to ask for TWO boxes of popcorn because :/ someone :/ ate it all :/ last time
Yoongi, 1:39: quit being so shady and just @ jungkook already
Jungkook, 1:39: IT WAS
Jungkook, 1:39: LITERALLY JIN-HYUNG
Jungkook, 1:40: NOT ME
Jimin, 1:40: WHAT?
You chuckled and glanced around quickly, typing a quick message.
You, 1:42: I’ll message you guys when I’m done with cleaning the stage and then you can come over. I’m putting the group chat on silent tho bc I’m still at work.
Already, your message prompted several quick replies.
Hoseok, 1:42: (Y/N)! <3
Jin, 1:43: We will not be silenced!!!!!!!!
Jimin, 1:43: HYUNG U SAID JUNGKOOK ATE THE POPCORN U LIAR
Taehyung, 1:44: lmao OOPS
Taehyung, 1:44: caught in a liiiieeeeee~~~
*Jimin has removed Jin from the chat*
*Namjoon has added Jin to the chat*
Namjoon, 1:46: Quit removing people from the chat just because they piss you off
*Jimin has removed Namjoon from the chat*
Yoongi, 1:47: as expected
“(Y/N)!” your manager called, almost making you drop your phone. You looked up guiltily and were lucky to discover she wasn’t even looking at you—she was too busy trying to keep a stage light standing. “Could you come over here and help me fix this?”
Sighing in relief, you pocketed your phone and went to help your manager. You liked your manager a lot, but she still made you nervous. You made sure to stay on your best behavior when she was around.
You held the top of the light while she screwed it into place, and when she was finished, she beamed up at you. “Thank you! And I’m glad you’re here.” Her bright look turned apologetic, so you knew you were in for some serious shit. “I have a favor to ask.”
“What is it?” you asked, cautious.
“Ji-sung is out sick tonight,” she admitted. “We need another crewmember in the camera pit. I know you don’t like going near the crowd, but you have the most experience with the stage material and I’d think you’d be a huge help to them.”
The breath left your chest. “I don’t know, I really—,”
“I know it’s last minute,” she interrupted, “and I know it’s a little inconvenient, but you’re our best replacement. It would only be for tonight.”
Your teeth clinked together, nervous. You were not a crowd person, and the camera pit was right in front of it. They were the pit that was most at risk of being tramped or attacked.
But you really wanted to leave a good impression with your new manager.
“Yeah,” you said, slowly. “That’s fine, (Y/M/N). I’d be happy to help.”
“Oh, thank you!” she gushed. “I’ll tell the camera crew. Think of it as a blessing! It’s basically a front-row ticket.”
A front row ticket in front of a writhing mass of fanaticism. Really, you didn’t mind people. People were smart—until you put them in a crowd. Then they were a hazard.
“Call time is 6:15!” And with that she flounced away, far too happy to be at work. Your manager truthfully was a different creature.
You let out a deep breath and shook your head. “Goddamn it.”
You distracted yourself with idle work leading up to the concert. It felt like everything and nothing needed to be done. You already knew Bangtan was busy with sound check and weren’t available, but that didn’t stop your from peeking your head in every once in a while to listen to them.
All you had to do was make it through the concert, and then the eight of you could finally relax.
You weren’t present for sound check, like you usually were. Instead you were busy introducing yourself to the camera crew and modifying their equipment. By the time the venue finally allowed people to start filing in, you were called away to help with lighting while the camera crew set up in front of the stage, so you didn’t get a chance to even wave at Bangtan until just an hour before the concert.
Walking into the waiting area, Namjoon’s head shot up immediately, and his gaze found your own. You smiled, and then the rest of Bangtan was turning their head. Hoseok waved manically.
You dodged a few frantic crewmen still trying to finish setting up before the concert began. Taehyung was the first to hug you, nuzzling into the side of your neck. Jin rubbed his hand along your shoulder and you smiled at them gratefully.
“We missed you during sound check,” Yoongi said, slightly pouting in a way that he would deny to be pouting, except it definitely was.
You sighed. “I’m not doing sound check tonight.”
“You look upset,” Hoseok noticed, and once he’d said it, the entirety of Bangtan circled you in concern. It was overwhelming in a good way, a flattering way, and you liked it because you weren’t used to people trying to take care of you. Jin cupped your cheek in one hand, analyzing your face.
“I’m fine,” you assured them. “I’m just nervous. I’m replacing Ji-sung in the camera pit tonight and I’ll have to be in the crowd.”
Namjoon nodded his head in understanding. “It can be overwhelming.”
“You’re telling me,” you muttered. “I’m afraid I’m gonna get dragged backward and trampled, never to be seen again.”
Jeongguk laughed. “That won’t happen, don’t be nervous.”
“We’ll keep an eye out for you,” Jimin said, and you realized he was smirking. “You’ll be in the front row. It’s the best seat in the house.”
“We’ll perform well for you,” Taehyung added.
“When do you not?” you asked, and then backtracked. “Perform well, I mean—not like, perform well for me—uh—,”
Jin laughed at your flustered expression. “Just keep your eyes on us the entire time and you’ll survive.”
You were certain that doing just that would be what killed you.
The eight of you chatted for a bit more until it was time for you to leave. Hoseok must have noticed how nervous you looked, because he leaned close to you for a second and planted a second kiss on your cheek. You didn’t see it, but Bangtan eyed him jealously.
“It’ll be fine,” he chirped, and you smiled.
“I’ll see you after the concert,” you told them, and then made your way to the stage.
The venue was an arena, and it was huge. The camera pit was set up in a small section in front of the middle of the stage, to avoid blocking a majority of the crowd view. It was protected by thin guard railing and a hanging sign that would do nothing to deter someone who was really interested in bypassing it. The second you stepped by the crowd your hair stood on end, but you put on a brave face and approached the pit, speaking with the camera crew. There really wasn’t much for you to do except help them with emergencies and fill in where you could.
You couldn’t help but glance back at the crowd. They were getting antsy, and so were you. It was like their infectious energy was seeping into you. You barely resisted the urge to scream when the concert began, and the entire crowd went wild.
The energy Bangtan brought to the stage was insane. It was like the entire arena was cradled in the palm of their hand. It didn’t matter who you were—if you were a fan, an employee, a stranger on the street—in that moment, they owned you. There wasn’t a choice about it.
It was amazing because at that moment you weren’t their coworker, or a BigHit employee—you were just a fan at a concert, who’d somehow gotten a really, really good seat. Seeing them perform so closely to you made your heart stop.
And throughout the entire concert, Bangtan kept staring at you.
You knew, logically, that they weren’t staring at you—they were staring at the camera. But you couldn’t help but feel like they were staring at you, trying to catch your eyes with their dancing and obscene hip thrusting. You were barely able to resist the urge to cover your face whenever it happened, giving in a few times when you were just too flustered to look. The camera crew, who were used to such a display, laughed at your embarrassment.
Sometimes they would point in your direction, stick their tongue out—Jimin, boldest of the seven on stage, laid on his back and thrusted into the air not one foot away from the lip of the stage, directly in front of you.
Heat was coiled so deeply in your stomach, you were afraid you’d explode.
Near the end of the concert, you got a message from your manager over your headset—since you’d done her such a big favor, she was letting you leave after the concert was finished instead of staying to help clean afterward. You were intensely grateful, because you were sweating and flustered and really didn’t know how much more you could take. You bid the camera crew goodbye and made your way backstage once Bangtan exited, the screaming of the crowd echoing as you walked further and further way.
Once in the back, you looked for them excitedly. It wasn’t often you got to see them directly after a concert. You were still hot and bothered, but you tried to push it to the back of your mind as your gaze snagged on them, all seven by the very edge of the stage.
“Hey!” you called, and the second Namjoon caught sight of you, his face split into a dimpled grin that almost made your heart stop.
He strode toward you, and you didn’t realize what he was doing until he swept you up in a hug and spun you around, giggling. Bangtan was right behind him, and suddenly you were in the middle of the sweatiest group hug you’d ever had in your life.
“How was it?” you heard Jimin ask, although you couldn’t see him through all the people in the way.
“It was amazing,” you replied. “Really, you all did fantastically.”
“It’s because we knew you were watching,” Hoseok declared. “You’re our good luck charm.”
You laughed and pulled your bottom lip through your teeth, looking away. A small smile curled your lip, and Jeongguk took you by the chin and planted a quick kiss to your cheek.
“So cute,” you thought you heard him breath, but you couldn’t be sure over the noise still echoing throughout the arena.
“Are you doing an encore?” you asked, and Jin nodded.
“Yeah, we’re gonna rest for a moment and go back out.”
“I got off a little early, so I’m gonna head back to my room and shower, okay? Come over whenever you want. I think Namjoon already has an extra copy of my room key.”
“We’ll come over the second we’re done,” Taehyung said, and then he was hugging you too, your face buried in his neck. “Thank you for watching us.”
“I always watch you,” you admitted. “I’m just never in the front row.”
Jimin’s grin was sharp and sly. “We know.”
You shooed them off, watching them glance back at you as they prepared to go back on stage. You waved them goodbye until they were gone, and then even peeked through the curtain to watch them from the sideline for a moment. I was just like all that time ago, when you’d caught a sneak peek of them before running into Jeongguk, except now you had permission to be here. Now you knew them. And now you knew just how much they meant to you.
Your hotel room was on the second floor next to the venue. You were still one of the only women in mid-crew, and had secured yet another room to yourself. It had two beds, and you threw your bag down on the closest one before showering and changing into something more comfortable. You put on a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt and sat down to start browsing Netflix, looking for a new movie to watch. You thought, vaguely, about taking a moment to take care of the heat still simmering on low in your stomach, but knew you’d never be able to look them in the eye if you did something like that right before they came over.
After just over an hour, you heard the door unlock, and you perked up just in time to watch it swing open and reveal the seven people behind it.
“We’re here!” Hoseok hollered, and you laughed.
“And we brought towels,” Jimin informed. You noticed that they were still wearing their makeup, and were still in their stage clothes. They must have really come straight from the concert to your hotel room. Namjoon was the last of the seven to file in, and he held up a huge bag of food for you to see.
“We also ordered takeout,” he said, sheepishly. He knew how much you hated it when they spent money on your food.
You took the bag and shot him a mock-glare. “Go take a shower. You all stink.”
You were glad they’d brought extra towels, because the seven of them rotated through your shower like madmen before getting dressed and climbing into bed. You were sure they were used to such a routine, which explained how they did it so efficiently. You all chatted and ate while everyone showered, celebrating and laughing. It only took thirty minutes for everyone to get settled.
Jeongguk wanted desperately to watch a horror movie, and you relented and allowed it, all of you climbing into one bed. You ended up pressed against Jin, and his hair was still damp from the shower, and he smelled clean and fresh and manly. You had to bite your lip to resist leaning forward and burying your face in his neck.
An hour later, Jimin whispered, horrified, “Oh, no.”
“She’s so dumb,” Taehyung muttered. “She deserves to die.”
Hoseok curled further into himself, and you felt him rocking back and forth on the bed while you clutched your own pillow to your chest. The room was pitch black, except for the glow of the television screen.
The main character took another hesitant step forward, toward the murderer hiding within the house, and toward certain death. The scene was quiet, ominous music played in the background—you all knew a jump scare was coming soon.
“This isn’t even realistic,” Yoongi said. “The fake blood is too thick—,”
Namjoon interrupted, hissing, “Quit talking during the movie.” Not a second later, the murderer jumped out on the screen, making Namjoon yelp. You jumped, and Jin let out a shrill shriek.
The screaming on the screen was drowned out by everyone’s sudden gasp and Jeongguk’s maniacal giggling.
“Hyung—,” he tried to say, pressing his fist against his mouth. “Hyung—what noise what that?”
Jin’s face was red. “That wasn’t me.”
“Then who was it?” Jimin cackled.
“It was (Y/N).”
“Don’t pin that on me,” you immediately countered. “My voice doesn’t even go that high.”
Jeongguk dissolved into giggling again, while Jin’s face heated further.
“I can’t hear,” Yoongi snapped, still paying attention to the movie.
You didn’t know what time it was, and you didn’t care. For once, you didn’t have to worry about going anywhere.
Once the scary movie was finally over, you all decided to watch something lighter to calm down. Jimin picked out a rom-com that had most of you groaning, but no one protested enough to change his mind. It was fun to laugh, but whenever a romantic scene came on, you couldn’t help but eye them nervously. You were afraid that your ridiculous affection would suddenly be tattooed on your forehead.
In the particular movie you were watching, two people fell in love at first sight. It was almost like they were soulmates, and you sighed. It wasn’t that you didn’t like the movie, but watching a movie like that was hard when you were surrounded by seven people you loved but knew would never love you back.
“Have you ever been in love?” Jeongguk asked, suddenly. It took you a stuttered second to realize he was speaking to you, wide and dark gaze unreadable in the low light. You realized that the movie was already over halfway finished, and you’d been distracted for a majority of it.
You stared at him for a long time, lost in thought. It felt like the entire room was waiting for your answer with bated breath, and for the first time in a long time, you felt slightly uncomfortable.
“Not like that,” you said. “And I don’t know if I’d want to be.”
Jeongguk looked away, but Namjoon drew your attention as he asked, “What do you mean?”
It was hard to explain, and you weren’t sure how to begin. How did you tell these men that you wanted that type of love so desperately, you could taste it on the tip of you tongue? How did you describe to them how much it scared you, enticed you, beckoned you for more? A type of love you could only read about, hear about in movies. The type of love only shared between soulmates?
It was easier, pretending not to want it. Because if you pretended not to want it, then you wouldn’t have to live with the crushing disappointment of never having it.
“That type of love doesn’t exist,” you ended up saying, because you were a coward, and intimately aware that you’d managed to fall in love with every single one of them, so who were you to be so greedy?
“I don’t think that’s true,” Jimin said, quietly. The movie was just a humble hum in the background, barely audible. “Maybe you just haven’t found it yet.”
It hurt, thinking about it. Hope could be just as painful as it was uplifting. “If it does exist, I don’t need it to be happy.”
They’d ruined you, you realized. There would be no one after them. Any chance you’d had of finding mediocre love with a man who made you happy but didn’t light a fire in your soul was dashed, and all because for the first time in your life, you’d found people that made you feel alive.
“Of course, you don’t need it. But what if someone wanted to give it to you?” Taehyung inquired.
You turned your head and looked away from them, considering and contemplating fruitlessly. “I don’t know.” The mood in the room plummeted, and you couldn’t help but think it was your fault. “I’m sorry.” 
“You don’t have to apologize,” Jin whispered. “Sorry for interrupting the movie.”
“It’s fine,” you laughed, only a little awkwardly. “I wasn’t really paying attention anyway. Do you want to watch something else?”
They agreed, and finally settled on the first episode of a crime show you’d never heard of but pretended to watch avidly. Several of them glanced at you from the corner of their eyes, but you tried your best to ignore it.
By the time early dawn was creeping at your window, it was already decided that Bangtan would spend the night. Such was your routine. You ended up squished in one bed with Hoseok, Yoongi, and Namjoon, with Jin and the maknae line on the other bed. Everyone was so tired that sleep came easily, but you still lingered awake, thinking and worrying about the situation you’d gotten yourself into.
You needed to distance yourself from them, or tell them how you felt. You knew they’d never return your affection, but at least you wouldn’t feel guilty about lying to them.
I’m in love with you, I’m sorry. I need some distance to think.
It would almost be easy, but you didn’t want to see the look on their faces when you confessed. You would probably sound crazy. Who fell in love with seven people? They would probably think you were faking it because they were handsome, rich, and successful.
No, no, you knew that was your insecurity talking. But you also knew your friendship with them would never be the same afterward. You weren’t sure if you were ready to lose them.
You were so tired. You wished you could just fall asleep and not worry about anything until the morning.
“You can relax,” Yoongi whispered, suddenly. His voice was low and gruff and muddled by sleep.
You almost startled. Yoongi was lying right next to you, and you’d held yourself rigid to avoid touching him. You were afraid of making him uncomfortable. You could feel the pressure of Hoseok’s back against your own, but he was already fast asleep.
“M’fine,” you murmured. Yoongi snorted at how tired you sounded and scooted closer, until you had to actively fight not to sink next to him.
“Come here. It’s fine.”
You hesitated for a moment longer before settling down, letting Yoongi’s weight on the mattress roll you closer until you were pressed against his side. You rested your head against his chest, intertwining one leg between his. “Is that better?”
“Yeah,” you whispered into his sweatshirt, voice almost slurred with how sleepy you were. You wished you were at least coherent enough to appreciate his sudden closeness. “Are you comfortable?”
“So comfortable,” he muttered, nuzzling his cheek against the top of your head. He maneuvered until his arm was underneath your head, fingertips drawing idle patterns across your back. “So, so comfortable.”
You laughed and looped your arm around his middle. “You’re such a sap.”
Yoongi’s body was incredibly warm, and you angled your face upward toward his neck. You could feel Hoseok’s back pressed against your own, and you wanted him to turn around and wrap you between him and Yoongi like a Bangtan sandwich. You dispelled the thought a moment later, knowing that it would lead nowhere except to awkward heartbreak.
“You smell good,” Yoongi said, instead of replying.
Unconsciously, you took a deep breath and smelled him. He smelled like the hotel’s scented body wash and whatever leftover cologne he’d put on before the concert. “You do, too.”
“Did you enjoy the concert?”
“I always do.” In the dark of the hotel room, with the only sound being the rest of Bangtan’s steady breathing, you felt safely cocooned. It was like living in a different world, where whatever pain and heartache you felt could be left outside, and inside this haven you could finally be free. “Sitting in the crowd, watching the seven of you do what you do. . . you just take my breath away.”
He went quiet. You were almost embarrassed for being so open with him, but blanketed by warmth and darkness, you found yourself too tired to care. Yoongi’s chest was moving up and down steadily underneath your cheek, and the soothing feeling was steadily pushing you toward sleep, until he broke the still and earnest silence.
“It’s better, now that you’re here,” he admitted, in a voice almost too quiet to be heard. “You make us better.”
“Mhmm, Yoongi,” you murmured, face still pressed against his chest. You were so tired, and your body was so heavy. You would never get over this feeling, of being able to exist absolutely comfortable in their presence. Hoseok shifted behind you, and you felt the curve of his spine through the thin material of your t-shirt.
“Yeah, baby?”
You hummed again, slipping further out of consciousness. You thought you heard him chuckle before he drew you closer, hand coming to rest on your shoulder. You cuddled closer to him and sighed, the beating of seven other hearts lulling you to sleep.
~~~
You woke up that morning cold, and a little bit barren. You didn’t understand why until you shifted and didn’t feel anyone next to you. Your hand met warm pillow, which meant you hadn’t been abandoned for long, but was still less satisfying than finding a warm body.
You nuzzled sleepily into your pillow and almost hummed, until the low sound of whispering caught your attention.
For a moment, you were too tired to listen, but as the whispering went on, you slowly starting paying more and more attention. Then, you recognized voices.
“We need to tell her,” someone said. You perked up at the mention of a her—you? Another woman?
“We can’t,” Jeongguk despaired. “You heard her last night. We need to give her more time.”
“You were the one that was so eager in the first place,” Yoongi hissed. “You’re the one who asked all that shit last night!”
“Be quiet,” Namjoon scolded. “She’s still sleeping.”
You turned your head just slightly, and caught sight of the hotel clock—it was only six o’clock in the morning.
“I just feel like we’re lying to her,” Taehyung whispered.
“It’s not lying if we plan on telling her later,” Hoseok said. “Now just isn’t the right time.”
Jimin butted in, saying, “It’s been over a month. What if there isn’t a right time?”
“We’re being too hasty.”
“We’re being impatient.”
“We’re wasting precious time!”
You sat up in bed slowly, and it was as if all of the air in the room was suddenly vacuumed away. Taehyung made a distressed noise in the back of his throat, and you asked, “What are you talking about?”
Your voice was soft and gruff with sleep, but still auditable. Someone in the room gulped.
No one said anything. You could see them now, piled together on the other bed, Jimin and Namjoon braced on the edge while the other five cowered behind them. You shifted until you were sitting directly across from them. The blanket was bunched around your waist, and your hair probably looked a mess, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.
Your nose twitched, and you asked again, “What are you talking about?”
The silence stretched impossibly longer. Everyone was looking between you and Namjoon, but even he seemed at a loss for what to say. You glanced at each other their faces, trying to analyze them for weakness. Someone would have to talk—someone would inevitably break.
“We’re in love with you,” Jimin blurted out. Everyone turned to glare at him while you gasped, raggedly. It was like a bucket of water being thrown over you.
You stared at him, wide-eyed and incredulous. For a moment you were too afraid to speak, until you breathed out an uncertain, “What?”
“We’re in love with you,” Jimin repeated, softer, slower. “All seven of us.”
Unconsciously, you shook your head. It didn’t seem possible, and your brain was having trouble making sense of it—there was no way in Heaven or Hell that all seven men in Bangtan were in love with you. You were nothing, compared to the women that surrounded them daily. You were nothing, compared to the money and the fame they had. You were nothing. Maybe you were still dreaming, and this was all just an elaborate fantasy.
Jin was quick to do damage control. “It’s not as weird as Jimin makes it out to be.”
“Actually, it’s weirder,” Yoongi commented, dryly. “We’re soulmates.”
To himself, Namjoon muttered, “God, we’re so bad at this.” He pinched the bridge of his nose but didn’t move to speak further.
“What does that mean?” you asked.
“It means,” Yoongi continued, “that the eight of use are meant to be together. Every single one of us. We were meant to be together since the day we were born.”
“It’s not something we can explain easily,” Hoseok winced. “But the seven of us already knew what to expect, when it happened. Meeting your soulmate is like finding a missing part of yourself. It’s touching another person and knowing they hold a piece of you.”
“It’s looking into someone else’s gaze and seeing yourself reflected back at you,” Taehyung added.
“It’s filling a hole in your heart without even realizing it was there,” Jeongguk finished, quietly.
Namjoon decided to interrupt, saying, “We know it’s hard for someone who hasn’t seen it before to understand. That’s why we haven’t said anything until now.”
You looked up at the ceiling, not sure what to say. A part of you wished they would have told you sooner, but another part knew you wouldn’t have been ready to hear it.
“Didn’t you feel something?” Jimin asked, leaning forward on the bed. “When we first met, when we were finally all together? Didn’t something about it just feel right?”
“I don’t know,” you whispered, and your voice was embarrassingly weak. “I—uh—,”
You must be going insane. Soulmates didn’t exist, and if they did, you certainly would have seven of them—and they certainly wouldn’t be the entirety of Bangtan. All talented, handsome, special—and then plain, boring you? Nothing about it made sense when it was laid out in front of you, logical and analyzed.
But you couldn’t forget that feeling you’d had, when you’d first met them—all the heated touches, the electricity, how comfortable they made you. That feeling you’d had in the car, when Namjoon had shut the door and suddenly the world didn’t spin on a titled axis, suddenly a layer of static was lifted from your brain, and for once you could be at peace.
You couldn’t forget the rightness, buried deep in your chest.
“Why me?” you asked them. “I just don’t see why me.”
“Because you’re the only person in the world meant just for us,” Jeongguk breathed, and his voice was reverent, and the seven of them looked at you like you were something to be worshiped.
And it was too much. Your insecurity, your confusion—they pilled on top of each other and multiplied and multiplied, filling your body and your chest and it was too much.
You stood abruptly, startling them. “I think I need to leave.”
“Don’t go,” Jimin immediately begged, reaching out to you.
You took a step back. “I-I’m sorry. I need to think. I can’t think clearly when you’re all here.”
“Then we can leave,” Namjoon started to say. “This is your hotel room—,”
But you turned before they could stand, and you were out of the hotel room before they had time to stop you.
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minstrivia · 5 years
Text
; lovesick 02 | m.
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— title: meet me
— pairing: kim taehyung x reader, ft. kim namjoon
— genre: angst, smut, college au, fuckboy au
— word count: 7k+
i’m thinking back to when i was young. back to the day when i was falling in love
— warnings: breathplay, creampie, degradation, dirty talk, praise!kink, rough sex, voyeurism (mission get a room = failed), unprotected sex, wow this was meant to be soft smut?? with a condom!!! what even am i??
— disclaimer: y/n making bad choices even i don’t agree with.
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It had been one of those halcyon rural nightfalls, those culminating mesmeric sundown's she'd known he had an all too aberrant penchant for. A benign tranquillity mediating amongst them as the moonlight barely brought life to the terrain surrounding, everything yonder a picture of secrecy to the caricature naked eye and near complete reticence besides the genial rustling of the bosky grass beneath them. Y/N remembers thinking she could never forget a time like that, a claudicant moment when he'd sat before her, fracturable as ever, a corpulent stretch of arms lengths keeping them— much to her chagrin— alienated from the other, his tall legs bent taut to his chest, arms clasped around the span of his calves and his forehead stuck to the hard callous bones of his knees. At the time it'd been such a mystifying sight, so implausibly strange she'd had no idea what to say to him, no collated words seemed explicitly helpful nor fitting then. So, she'd watched him instead, figure bent like his own, cheek to knees whilst she observed him meticulously, eyes centralised on the rhythmic heaved breaths curling at the rounds of his spine, the fractious shake seizing his tightly clasped fingers and rendering him— weak? Y/N had scrunched her nose at the word. Taehyung wasn't weak, not her best friend, not the charismatic libidinous brazen Apollo that emanated with a cocksure aura she'd always envied. Weak had been the last thing she'd ever describe him as. Yet, there he'd presented himself before her, emphatic harrowing sobs racking through the frame of his body, cursing the easeful night with a wretched cry for help and making her wonder. What had it taken to fully shatter a boy so complete? He'd yet to tell her why he'd called, not that she'd asked either, the hoarse skittish tone in his voice had choked the stemming question in her throat, superseding it with a curt mutter of agreement; settling to meet him at such a time despite the few hours left before start of school. Howbeit, she'd never regret it, even with the fact he'd caused her stellar attendance to be barred with her first ever uncharted truancy. She could never bring herself to second guess her decision to meet him, not when he'd finally looked at her the way he did— talked to her the way he did— or even touched her the way he did. Y/N had found herself admiring him then, admiring the way he'd composed himself somewhat, cries lapsing into here and there subdued gasps and whispers as he'd gripped onto his clothing with an iron fist. Building his cinder block walls back as steep as ever, as if all he'd really needed was just to let it all out, for that fugitive moment, he'd just needed to be boundless, completely sedate with an inspirited freedom. And all he'd wanted was her there, an understanding of silence as she'd waited on the grounds that he'd just needed her presence— nothing more, nothing less. "Sorry," he'd murmured, the taper whites of his eyes delineated a wounded scarlet when he chanced a fleeting glance at her, an almost pitiable sniffle crinkling at his nose and his desiccant lips parting ever so effortlessly when he spoke, a blithe whisper being all that was made of the words. "I'm sorry, Y/N." "Hmm?" Y/N's lips had stooped into an addled grimace. For what reason did he have to be sorry? She hadn't been the one with stale streaks of tears lining her ruddy cheeks, neither had she been the one to sound so damaged, so obscured. And still, the sincerity of the utterance hadn't been lost in transit, leaving her as dumbstruck as ever, back straightening as she narrowed her eyes. "For what?" "Dragging you here—" He scuffed his shoes on the rocky mud beneath him, pretending the display had become of sudden concern to him as he refused to look at her. He'd know what she'd been thinking if he had, Y/N had always been so transparent to him, a facile gander being all it took to fathom the thoughts she'd assumed her face had hidden. And he hadn't needed— wanted it, not then, definitely not then. "You shouldn't have come out here for me. Should have told me to fuck off or something." Y/N had nodded mindlessly, she wasn't completely oblivious, she'd known he was a lot more partial in venturing to divert the conversation from what she'd just witnessed, than feigning he hadn't really needed her. But she'd went along with it, she'd replied, "Maybe." A heedless lift of her shoulders followed by a genteel laugh as she ran her clammy palms up her thigh. "It's too late now though, isn't it?" She asked, rhetorically, of course, clapping her hands together with a simper. "Anyway, who are you kidding? I would have come regardless." Taehyung scoffed, his head rising to finally look at her properly, finally bask in her fixed gaze, curiosity drawing at her brows and questioning at her lips. Of course, that had been her answer, he hadn't really expected anything less, not from Y/N, her heart had been too warm for that, too impulsively caring and big to leave him by himself at a time like that. And he'd known that. "Y/N, you ever wonder if erm—" He sighed, a hefty breath clearing his thoughts momentarily, head sloping upwards as the incandescent stars began to illuminate the twilight sky, one by one, enlightening it with a picturesque artistry of love, hope, and new beginnings. All of which he'd found he wanted, craved even. "You ever wonder if you'll ever find that someone, you know? That someone that makes you, for the first time in your life want to care— really really care, for them and them for you. Someone you know you'd do anything for." Y/N imagines her face must have been a picture of curiosity when he'd looked at her, a chary smile and an airy shrug thrown her way to ease the weighty burden of his thoughts. As if he'd known she felt out of her depth but continued anyway. "You ever just sit and wonder if that perfect person actually exists, or— or if you're just never meant to feel that kind of happiness. If that person may be someone else's first, never to be yours, no matter how much you want them because that's just the way the world works." He'd chuckled despite his copious tone, outstretching his lengthy legs forward, balls of his palms pressed to the ground behind him whilst he'd looked at her, regarding her with such scrutiny, as if she'd never fully understood but he'd said it anyway. And Y/N hadn't understood, not then, not really. She'd cleared her throat, tugging at the frayed ends of her woolly jumper nervously, eyes veering away from his as the sudden overwhelming feeling of being under his pointed gaze seeped below her skin, shuddering down her spine and making her feel as if she were the reason they'd been cooped at the top of the mountain and not him, as if she'd been the one that needed to let go. Taehyung always had a way of doing that, like an art he'd defined, his undeviating attention compelling one to feel under examination, no matter the circumstance. And it'd always worked on her, his stare heating her body with an analeptic warmth she could never explain despite her tries. She'd swallowed, throat dry and hoarse, the question she'd been waiting to ask right at the tip of her tongue. "What makes you say that?" He'd snorted jovially. "Y/N, my mother's been cheating on my father for as long as I can remember, hell, for as long as we can remember—," he'd said, a spiteful jeer in his voice as he'd spat out the term 'mother' like it had left an astringent taste of repulsion in his mouth and she could do nothing but wince. "— and he lets her. He just fucking lets her, no matter what I say. He lets her fucking prance around with her other fucking family as if she's fucking proud of it. God, she's such a bitch, such a fucking gold-digging bitch, embarrassing him like she does, making him seem like he's a fucking stupid idiot, because of what? Huh? Why Y/N? Why?" He'd looked at her, glassy eyes wide and crazed as he'd searched for the answers in her face, pupils flicking from side to side as if he'd really believed that if he'd looked hard enough, he'd find it. But he wouldn't, she hadn't had those answers for him. She'd ran her tongue across the surface of her dry lips, answering with the only thing she'd known was true. "Love is blind." Taehyung shook his head, a sheer protest to her reply. "No. Love is bullshit." He'd countered, an unnerving finality strong within his tone. "It's him that's fucking blind. God, I hate her so much, you know. She's such a fucking parasite, worming her way into his money without a care in the world and he just doesn't deserve that. I wish he'd never met her." He heaved a sigh burying his face into his hands and dragging them down as he sloped his head back. "She uh— She wants to send Namjoon into one of these private prestigious universities, and she asked my own father to pay for it. She asked my father to pay to send a child, that is not his own, to a beyond fucking expensive school. And he'd just said yes. I tried— I fucking tried to speak some sense into him, but erm my mother didn't really like that, did she." He'd twisted his head to the side, giving her a proper view of the other half of his face, a sweltering claret hand mark pressed angrily into his cheek and Y/N's heart had clenched at the sight. Next moves done with little to no hesitation, clambering onto her knees, stationing herself beside him as she took his cheek into the tenderness of her palm, thumb stroking away the stray tears whilst he melted into her touch, lids fluttering to a steady close. She'd smiled dolefully. "Your father is just— he's just a victim to unjust love, I guess. He's already in too deep and to get out from that place must be so hard for him you know. It won't be like that for you. I promise." "Y/N, I think—" His eyes opened with a smile almost as forlorn as her own, as he moved away from her feathery caress. "I think I've found that person that I think of 24/7, the person that I want to see smiling, that I want to be the reason for it," He'd divulged before pausing, blinking ever so languidly and sinking his teeth into his bottom lip. "But I don't want to be my father. I can't be my father. And that scares me because I really do think I've found her." He'd sounded like it, sorrow thick and corpulent in his speech, tongue bandaging 'round the words so fluently she'd almost believed he'd practised it beforehand. But he'd shaken his head, fingers combing through the legion umber tussocks of his hair and roughing it up ever so slightly. "Promise me something." "What?" "Here." He'd opened his arms wide, enveloping her within his hold, her head rested on the slope of his shoulder as his arm pulled her skin-tight by her waist. It had been warmer like that, the wind hardly noticeable with the makeshift barricade they'd created, it was one of the first things she'd noticed, that and the way his heart had beaten, at a pace faster than normal yet just as steady. "Promise me you'll never leave—" "Tae—" "No, just— just listen." He'd insisted, gripping her just that bit tighter like he'd been scared she'd make a run for it if he didn't. "Promise that no matter what I do, no matter how much I fuck up, you'll never leave me. You're the only one I trust Y/N. I— Promise that if we never find true love, or if somewhere along the lines it gets lost, or whatever bullshit, that we'll be each other's perfect someone's because you're the only one I know won't hurt me Y/N. Not like my mother." Y/N had stilled briefly, he couldn't be serious? In a few seconds, she'd hear the first tell-tale bubbles of laughter falling from his lips and giving him away like it always did. But the longer she'd waited, the more it felt like such a thing would never come and when she'd finally decided to peer up at him, he'd already been looking down at her, a bold sobriety in his features that stood its ground. She'd tutted, digging her elbow into his side with a mischievous nudge. "As if you could deal with me every single day," she'd stated, a splitting grin plastered on her face as she'd found it a lot more amusing than she probably should've. "Have you even thought about this? I would positively drive you up the wall and I know you would too." Taehyung shrugged indifferently, though, in reality, he'd already given it much more thought than he'd like to admit; he'd even weighed out the pros and cons like it were some thesis he'd have to give in. So yes, he'd done more than just thought about it. "Y/N, I could deal with you for eternity and more. You know why?" He'd stuck out his pinkie finger tentatively and Y/N knew she couldn't say no, not to him— never to Taehyung. She'd curled her smaller finger around his, fusing the aphonic promise amongst them as he daintily pressed his lips to her temple, murmuring lightly against the skin, just loud enough for her to catch it. "Because you're my best friend Y/N." And it'd been somewhere along those lines, somewhere amidst him baring all for her to see, before coating back his layers thicker, somewhere amongst the raw words he'd uttered and promises they'd made that she'd fallen in love with Taehyung for the first time, properly fell in love that is, heart beating out of its confinement's as she breathed him in for what felt like the first time ever. "And you're mine Tae."
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"You didn't do it, did you?" "What?" Y/N's body lurches forward instantly, the book she'd been firmly clutching in her hands subdued onto the table gaudily, her rib jarring roughly on the whetted outskirt of the timber as she curses to herself.  "Jesus Christ, Min Yoongi," she hisses, resting a nervy palm over her chest to even the hasty cumbrous beats of her heart, turning her head to scowl at the boy standing behind her, his inklike hair vitric and glossy as his eyes bore flatly into hers. "Why are you like this?" He nods a scant tut of his teeth following his hum of confirmation. "So, you didn't." "Is it really that obvious?" She huffs, her cheeks swelling out marginally when she blows at the hair that briefly obscures her face and slumps down further into her seat. Yoongi lifts his shoulders apathetically, tucking his hands into his trousers and lounging amply in the seat beside her. "Well let me see, you're sitting in the library, reading—" He veers forward, flipping the hardcover book to a close, brows puckered and his lips screwing up in distaste when he inwardly reads the title of the astronomy book she'd picked up on a whim. "—whatever this fucking is when we were meant to be going to that pharmacy to get me more aspirin. I'd say it's a little more than pretty obvious, wouldn't you?" Y/N cries out, figure sagging as she plants her forehead to the table. "God, I'm sorry Yoongs. I completely forgot. I was just—" "Apology not accepted," He declares, cutting her off and overlapping his arms together. And Y/N can't help sneaking a cursory peep at him through the corner of her eye. He's looking straight at her, lashes flitting sluggishly, not even a trace of a smile picking at his lips and his brows raised expectantly. She knows he's irritated— well really, more than anything completely fed up of her, and she knows it's not because of some stupid aspirin. But she's got some pride, pride that won't let her admit to her wrongdoings. "What?" Yoongi scoffs, his head swaying almost humanely. "You're pathetic." That she is. Y/N would have to be categorically fucking pathetic to be hiding from her own boyfriend as if she's the one that's done wrong. As if she's the cheater. But she just can't face him, she can't bear the judging side-eyes she's been getting all day, the fleeting ganders of rapport, and the continuous indistinct murmurs about that silly, stupid rumour, which— leave it up to Taehyung— Y/N knows is plausibly true. It's as good as loathsome when she really thinks about it, she can't defend his honour if she tried, she can't pretend for even a second that such rumours may not be true. And yet, she continues to call herself his girlfriend. She laments, rooting her elbows to the table and capturing her face in the grasp of her palms. "I know. I know." Yoongi grimaces. "You wanna know who it was this time?"
Y/N shakes her head. She knows Yoongi doesn't intend to be purposefully callous all the time— nor does he really want to. It's just that she refuses to listen to him, he's told her time and time again that Taehyung doesn't care as she does, Yoongi's told her that Taehyung will continue to maltreat her, that even though he'll say he loves her; he doesn't. And still somehow, someway she contrives to persuade herself that he does. Taehyung does care. Taehyung won't hurt her. Taehyung loves her. "I'd rather not,” she replies. Acknowledging it would only make it worse— comprehending that tiny detail would only make it laborious to assure herself that she's not doubtlessly dense when she says that she loves him. And Yoongi knows that. "Well, it's Jennie," he blurts out. "Kim Jennie. The pretty girl that sits next to you in Chem, Jennie—" "Yoongi!" "No Y/N, look at me—" He clinches her wrist stiffly in his grip, yanking her arm forcibly enough that her torso swivels towards him till she's meeting him properly. Face hardly centimetres apart from his when he finally vocalises his intention. "—you need to get a fucking grip. The boy is cheating on you, whether you like it or not, he is," He jeers, a compact hitch in his lecture, his eyes wavering over her features as if to check he hasn't gone farther than he meant to. "Now, I don't know whatever fucking excuse you've conjured up for him in your head but Y/N this— this isn't normal, and it's not healthy." And she doesn't want to hear any more of it. She rips her arm away from him abruptly, wringing her palm around the wrist to soothe the biting sensation of his fingers. "Ouch, you're an asshole." "And you need to break up with him," He concludes, not a slither of a debate held in his emphasis or his rigid stare. "Oh, there you are Y/N." Fuck. Y/N curses under her breath, pegging in her spot and instantly preferring to be met with the drubbing defeat of Yoongi's self-satisfied smirk than to take notice of the boy she'd been trying to evade all day. Presence almost tyrannical as his confusion at her and Yoongi's current state lapses off him in fluctuations, an emotion that flushes warm under her skin against her will. "Do it now," Yoongi rasps, his voice hushed and ominous enough, a temporary mumble, that's meant for her ears only, before he rises to his feet, dusting nonexistent lint off the tops of his legs and beaming for the first time since he'd come. A smile that Y/N knows is all too phoney. "Anyway, we'll just go to the pharmacy after class. See you Y/N. Tae."
Y/N swallows thickly, eyes following the way Yoongi leaves in a quickstepped dash, gloomily coveting she could do the same. Or, better yet, just disappear. "What erm— What are you doing here?" She asks, glimpsing at the way Taehyung topples on the globes of his feet, grooming his hair by his fingers, shifting it backwards and allowing it to flounder down in place.
He grins, settling himself in the chair Yoongi had just departed from but hobbling it that tad bit closer to her so that their knees knock together when he leans in. "I couldn't find you this morning," he begins, allotting the plastic bag he'd had in his hold on the table. "But Jimin said he'd definitely seen you. So I thought, it's getting nearer to exams, of course, you'll be in the library and of course, you'll forget to eat. Aren't I great?" "Hmm." Y/N looks carefully between the bag and him, hands shoved in the centre of her pressed thighs, despairingly hoping to not seem too agitated. It's always harder when Taehyung's entirely sober. When he's like this, she can almost recognise the sparse remnants of her best friend, the one that knows all her favoured foods, an esoteric draw of a smile deep-rooted on his lips when he shreds the sandwich packet open, prompting the white breaded ham and cheese sandwich towards her. She reels her bottom lip into her mouth dubiously. It's a nice thing he's done, it really is. But it's not nice enough, it's not cordial enough to stop the claimant question— even though she knows— tumbling from her lips. "Who's Jennie?" Taehyung doesn't flinch, he propels his legs in front of him, arms spreading to retire behind her chair leisurely. "Who?" There's an almost cocky squint in his orbs, an audacious trace vivid in his pupils as if he thinks she'll give up now. Like she normally does. She won't though. She grates her teeth together, breathing in to compose herself— at least partially— before rephrasing her interrogation. "Who were you with the other night?" "Hmm?" He recoils this time, subtly, hauling his shoes upon the floor, eyes drawing to a wary squint and frowning. "What d'you mean?" Taehyung knows what she means, Y/N knows he does, he clicks his teeth and wheels his shoulders back as if he does and her fingers curve into fists. "After you left," she emphasises, an astringent exhalation coating the stressed words. "After you left, who were you with?" "I don't—" He huffs defeatedly, he's trying to remember— he really is. His forehead folds up in thought, brows neighbouring closely, ivories clamped onto his gums as he rummages through his whereabouts yesterday, but he's coming up muddled every time. There's nothing following Y/N as far as his memory goes. So he settles for what he hopes to be, an apologetic shrug. He just can't remember. "I don't know Y/N." Y/N snorts. "Yeah, okay," she drags, scoffing when she nudges his arm off her chair. She doesn't know why she's still entertaining him— actually she knows. She just doesn't know why she won't fucking listen to Yoongi, she can't fathom why whenever Taehyung looks at her with those brownish eyes of his all she can remember is the day he'd fretted being alone. The day she'd witnessed him crying and prayed she'd never see it again. "Y/N look, I don't remember what happened last night. But I know for sure I wasn't with anyone else," He insists, dragging at her chair easily, the wood irritating tawdrily against the floor and she has to jam her feet on the floor to get him to stop. She's full-on scowling now, temper flaring deep in her eyes when she stabs her forefinger to his chest. "You are such a fucking liar Taehyung!" "Be quiet," he scolds, eyes darting around the room, seizing hold of her finger and forcing it away promptly. “Don’t make a scene.”
“Don’t make a—” Y/N can’t believe him. He has the guts to tell her not to make a ‘scene’ because he can’t bear being called out. She pulls at the collar of her blazer, sheathing the clothing to suit her correctly as she arises to her feet. “You think I’m making a scene?” She snaps. She plucks up the neglected book with two hands, elevating it beyond her head and slamming it back down onto the desk forcibly, the turbulent thud echoing off the walls ‘round them and she smirks. “That’s making a scene.”
"For fuck's sake, Y/N." Taehyung hooks the pads of his finger into the flesh of her thigh in a bruising grapple, his other hand bunching her hair together and yanking her head back when he stands. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" He snarls, wrenching at her hair again so that her scalp starts to throb at the pain. And in a way, it’s a relief he’d found Y/N in one of the more screened sections of the library because it means he can drive her, ass first onto the table, legs separating her thighs and his palms established by them as he confines her in. “I said, I wasn’t with anyone.”
“And I said, Jennie, begs to fucking differ.”
Taehyung paves the pads of his central finger and thumb into her chin, moving her downcast face towards him, outlining his teeth on the bony seams of her jaw. “Y/N, I promise I wasn’t with anyone,” he states, brushing a fluffy feathery kiss on the pill of her cheek, her eyelids involuntarily rippling to a close at the impromptu act. “Promise.”
Y/N shouldn’t be pondering this, she shouldn’t be relishing in how intimate he is to her right now, she unquestionably shouldn’t be craving more than just the kiss that he’s given her and she can nearly visualise the unimpressed stern scowl Yoongi would be bestowing her if he could see her now. However she’s stirring it aft, there’s something in the way Taehyung speaks to her, a deep velvety baritone that rattles within her body, coercing her to adhere to his every abhorrent will, and making everything seem alright. Her chest drops when she expires despondently, “You promise?” He nods, resting his forehead considerately against hers. “I promise. I would never do that to you. Now, can I kiss my favourite girl?”
Y/N abstains from declaring he has, that he’s done it to her so many time's shes even lost count, so she acknowledges him mutely instead, a moderately embracing smile displayed on her features when he skims his lips against hers, ambiguously at first, as if he’s stalling for her to rouse to her reasoning and shove him away. She doesn’t, her palms tarry securely adhered to the wooden surface and it’s all he needs. He deepens the kiss instantly, slanting her head up slightly when he does, his soft lips eager and completely him. Y/N can’t taste a drop of liquor on the depths of his tongue, she savours the richness of milk chocolate, the divine creaminess of peanut butter and the explicit freshness of mint. And the combination is so uniquely him, she can’t help but moan in bliss. His name befalling from her parted lips as his hand massages the skin of her thighs beneath her skirt, peppering sloppy moist kisses down her throat.
Taehyung smirks against the surface. “Love the way you say my name,” he mutters. “Gets me so fucking hard, you wouldn’t believe it.” He ruts his hips into hers, the rockhard bulge tightening in his trousers grazing against the cotton material of her panties solicitously and eliciting a sensual mewl that sings like a melody to his ears. “Fuck, so beautiful.”
Y/N burrows her nails far into his forearms, breath slipping out of regular paced rhythm as he continues to rut against her. She’s enjoying this, if she were to go by the possible state of her— by far— damp panties, she’d say she’s enjoying this a bit too much. And the risks are impossibly high, if someone, be it a teacher were to walk past the long dwindled passage she’s sure she’ll struggle to attain a fitting explanation for such a compromising position they’re in. But it doesn’t faze her in the slightest. She sucks his lower lip into her mouth when he lifts his head, scraping her teeth across the flesh libidinously before releasing it. “Want you to fuck me Tae,” she whispers, bucking her hips to meet him halfway. “Please fuck me.”
“Shit—” Taehyung coasts her skirt up her thighs when he grips at her hip to hold her down in place. Sincerely, he hadn’t come here with a purpose to fuck her at all, he’d truly just needed to make sure she’d eaten because he knows how forgetful she can get this time of year when exams are looming around the corner and she’s striving to juggle everything all at once in the most Y/N fashion, so, detrimentally struggling. But, who is he to pass up an opportunity like this. “—you have to be real quiet for me.”
“I will.” Or more accurately said, she’ll give it her best shot.
“Fuck,” he growls, shifting her panties out the way and parting her lips with two long digits. She’s already so so wet for him, her dewy juices glazing and warming the surface of his skin within seconds as he rubs her deliberately, flicking and pressing onto her clit in a swift manner that has Y/N gasping with tottering tremors. Taehyung adores her reactions the most, the way bantam things he does derives such pleasant sounds from her mouth in a way he knows only he’s heard. “God, you’re pretty.”
Y/N clamps a palm over her gaping mouth a strident gasp hushed and her eyes rolling back when he sinks his broad finger into her slit, curling the digit up inside her and grinding his thumb up against her clit. She nods nimbly. “Just like that, please.”
“Uh huh, you like that?” He draws his finger out just to his knuckle before thrusting it back into her, a hastened repetitive pattern, fucking her with his fingers and rubbing vigorously at her clit. And it’s more than enough to have Y/N casting her head back, chest arching towards him and her arms flung loosely around his neck. But he wants more— she wants more. He wants to see her writhing beneath him, total power granted to him as she dissolves in his arms. So he adds another finger, quickening his pace and brushing at her g-spot with every thrust. “Bet you like that better, huh?”
“Yes— fuck, yes.”
“God, you’re such a fucking slut,” he husks, popping the buttons to her cream blouse apart with just a meagre run of his forefinger, her white bra hardly covering the plump mounds of her breast and he doesn’t waste any time, nipping at the supple flesh and marking her as his. “You’ll let me play with you wherever I fucking want, won’t you?”
Y/N whines in response, speech impaired by the way his long fingers abuse her cunt. Taehyung’s not taking it easy on her at all, he’s pumping in and out of her so rapidly that the entire table jolts marginally with the movement and she can’t help but imagine what damage his cock will do. The slushy sounds coming from her his fingers in her cunt are crass and lewd, embarrassing even, but she has no time to be bothered at all. Not when he’s speaking so erotically to her.
“You’re so fucking good like this—” He licks his lips at the sight of her, she’s definitely a work of art. One he thinks no-one could ever recreate, not his girl, definitely not Y/N. “—wish everyone could see how fucking nasty you can get. Tarnish that innocent persona of yours.”
“God Tae, I’m so fucking close.”
“Yeah? You think you can take three fingers?” He presses another digit amongst the mix, her walls clamping tight against the intrusion and he groans, he can’t fucking wait to be inside her. “Gotta stretch that tight cunt nice and ready for my cock.”
Y/N can’t even hush the stagnated moan that puffs at her lips, the pushy stretch is almost a replica of his cock, and it’s all too much for her. He’s biting at her skin, rubbing at her clit and fucking her cunt with no respite and she’s overcome her heart stuttering, mind blank with a hazy fog and her toes curling in her shoes as she lets her orgasm take over. The shockwaves quivering through her figure, ousting uncontrollably at her hips whilst Taehyung susurrates praise of ‘that’s my girl’, ‘doing so fucking well’ and ‘god, you’re hot’ in her ears. And when she comes back down, lids finally flapping to an open, he’s grinning widely at her.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, you know that?”
There’s a transparent sincerity in his words, that even in her blissed-out post-orgasm state, Y/N can identify the apprehensive tic in his eye when he says it as if he thinks he’s said a little too much. She chews at her lip. “Thanks.”
Taehyung clears his throat, pressing a peck to her forehead, one that she wishes he’d take back because it’s all too cosy, all to loving and misleading. So before he can say anything, she jumps the gun, stroking slowly at the bulge in his plants and peering up at him between her lashes. “You can fuck me now… please.”
He blinks, lulling for a moment in confusion before finding his bearings. “Yeah, yes, fuck sure.” He pulls his zip down instantly, only hauling his trousers and boxers down enough that he can get his cock out freely, a relieved sigh deflating his lungs when he frees his throbbing length from its confinement. “Fuck baby, like it better when you’re bent over for me.”
Y/N shifts off the table, twirling around and hiking her skirt up with a provoking wiggle of her ass. And it’s not until she’s properly doubled over, hands clutching the table edge fixedly that she notices the sheer black string of Yoongi’s basketball bag and she internally— well she hopes internally— panics. She knows Yoongi and she knows he’s done this on purpose to use as an excuse to come back when really all he’d be doing is checking to see if she’s broken up with Taehyung yet and she’s not even close. Y/N peers back, observing the way Taehyung strokes his cock with his palm, the tip already an indignant tint of red and she knows she’s gone too far to turn back now. She huffs. “Fuck, Tae you gotta hurry it up a bit.”
“What? Why?”
“Well, one I don’t really want to get caught by a teacher with your cock inside me,” she lies, partially lies, a teacher would definitely be worse than Yoongi catching them.
“Hmm, I don’t know,” He says, raising his brow at her. “I don’t think I really mind.”
Y/N rolls her eyes. Of course, he doesn't. “Tae!”
“Alright, alright.” Taehyung smooths his tip within her lips, wetting his cock before he drives his cock into her gradually, groaning gutturally, his brows bumped together and his teeth sunk into his bottom lip at the way her clammy walls absorb him in fast. "Fuck baby," he murmurs, levelling his palm onto her ass cheek to steady himself. She’s always so fucking beautifully tight for him.
“God,” Y/N mewls, knuckles blanching when she tightens her grip. Taehyung fills her up so fully, his cock skintight against her walls, mundane crests and veins slotting perfectly and his length stretching to tickle her cervix when he’s bottomed out. “Christ, you’re so fucking thick.”
Taehyung curves his hand underneath to grasp her throat, crooking at her spine when he does. “You’re gonna have to be quieter now Y/N,” he remarks, stiffening his grip in early warning. “Know you can be a real fucking loud whore, but I need you to be my quiet little slut now. Okay?”
Y/N nods, whimpering softly as he begins to rock into her, lazy thrusts that don’t give her a fair chance to start out. He’s drawing himself out of her completely before ramming back into her, jostling her body flimsily forward and she fights to keep quiet, high pitched whines shaking at her lips that has Taehyung holding onto her throat that bit tighter everytime until she’s suppressed to pitiful cries and a buzzing lightheadedness.
She can’t do it. “Fuck, Tae, want it— need it faster.” Not only can she barely handle the intense lethargy in his strokes, but also, she really does need him to be faster, the knowledge that Yoongi could walk in at any time lingering weighted at the back of her mind and not at all sitting comfortably with her. “Need it now.”
Taehyung gives her what she wants without any fuss, he abides his secure hold on her throat, clasping at the smalls of her waist as he begins to pound into her, fast stubborn thrusts striking his hips against the cheeks of her ass way too raucously for the confines of a library, but they’re deaf to it. Both too caught up with the pleasurable feeling their surroundings become insignificant. Especially to Y/N, when he’s fucking her the way he does, impelling her insides with such carnal velocity, she can’t help but get caught up in the thought that he’s absolutely perfect for her. He knows her through and through, he knows she loves it when he pulls her taut against him, his chest against her back as he rams his cock in her at an angle that has her legs trembling. He knows she loves it when he makes it practically impossible to breathe his fingers digging so far into her throat he threatens to cut off her air supply. And he knows she loves it when he calls her his, his good girl.
Taehyung tugs on her earlobes with his teeth. “Shit, you’re such a fucking good girl for me, aren't you?” Her dewy walls clasp firmly around him, attempting to clamp him down still and he grits his teeth together, brutally fucking her swollen cunt deeper than he’d been before. “Should come right inside you, make you walk around with it running down your legs.”
“Oh fuck, please, fill me up.”
“Shit.” Taehyung’s thrusts stutter as she proceeds to clamp down on his pulsating cock, and he’s grunting, chest heaving as he twitches inside her. This is invariably his favourite part when he can pull her snug upon him, retaining her there, hands on her body when he releases himself inside her, spurting hot cords of his cum deep in her cunt and watching the way it leaks out of her when he pulls himself out. He glimpses up at her amusedly, her hair loose and wild, her lips bloodied and her cheeks flushed with sweat. She looks how he loves her, beautifully fucked out.
“How ‘bout you come to my house after, and I’ll make you feel really good later. Hmm?” He offers, trapping his cum from escaping with her panties.
Y/N sighs. Fuck, Yoongi’s really going to kill her. “Okay.”
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In hindsight, Y/N shouldn’t have answered the door.
It’s not even her own house and yet she’d answered as if it were. And now she’s duly regretting it. There's a blustering ornate moment of replete stillness, a corralling overwrought minute that imperceptibly prolongs far beyond its time, unsettling her thoughts, muddling letters into indistinguishable words and relaying them in an all too manic frenzy. At least, that's what it feels like; the world seemingly to have jarred in its circular axis, inhabitants muted and dispersed into fickle nothings and all that's left is something— someone, Y/N can only describe as a memory sorely forgotten.
A memory who somehow looks mostly the same— it's been a long time, too long, she knows that. But somehow— somehow, his fulgent coral hair still tousles high with that hardly noticeable parting that impels it smoothly to the sides of his face, familiar dainty dimples indenting the skin either side of his cheek when he smiles at her briefly, causing those ticks, those zealous shakes and quivers that never fail to take her by surprise. Now, even more-so. She's stuck. Her curled fingers have gone numb against the silvered knob, feet involuntarily seeded to the timber beneath her feet, pithy breaths baited with an anxious pause as she double— triple takes. He still looks like the man she'd dreamed of a thousand dreams, he's just that bit more clean-cut, that bit more defined, that little bit more of everything she's ever wanted. "Namjoon," she says, the name leaving her lips like a whisper would, fickle and dainty, floating meaninglessly in the morning breeze. His head cleaves a paltry probing tilt, even brows drawing together in a helix and eyes squinting with definite curiosity when he finally speaks, seeming to have shaken off his own initial shock. "Y/N? Is that you?" He chances a meagre step forward, feet barely lifting from the ground. It's daring, he knows it— she shows it, her knuckles strain at the way she tightens her grip considerably, a sharp intake of breath and a responding shuffle backwards. "What am I talking about? Of course, it's you." Namjoon scoffs, more to himself than anything, an almost disbelieving chuckle falling from his lips as he shakes his head. "It's just— it's been so long, hasn't it? I haven't seen you in—" "Two years." Namjoon nods barely, scuffing his shoes on the ground beneath him as he watches her closely. Y/N recognises that look— those pretty brown eyes, orbs visibly shining amongst the light of fresh dawn, the whites ostensibly to have enlarged as his pupils ask several questions of new and old, questions she's sure she's not at all ready to answer. Not now. Not yet. Not when she can't even wrap her head around him being here. Not when she can't understand what he's doing back here— what he's doing in front of her. So she's stilted, she's wary, watching him with close guarded eyes, cutting his stuttered speech off all too harshly. "It's been two years, Namjoon," she reiterates, crossing her arms over and slacking against the outer edge of the door. 
"What are you doing here?"
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moodboard made by me
Title: Perfect
Pairing: Namjoon x Reader ft. Dragonite
Genre: Pokemon!au, fluff, crack
Word Count: 1.9K
The sound of your phone receiving a text message cuts through the dark silence of the early morning. You groan, peeling one eye open to glare at your nightstand. Really? You reach over because your curiosity is too strong even in your three-quarters still asleep state. Luckily, “pre-sleep you” was smart enough to dim your screen before going to bed so the dulled brightness is only a little assaulting to your retinas when you push the home button. Immediately, a tired smile spreads your mouth wide, all animosity felt toward the sender diminishing when you see that it’s none other than the boy you’ve been texting nonstop for the past two weeks.
Joonie: hey, r u awake?
Y/N: I am now :)
Joonie: shoot Im sorry …
Y/N: no its okay. I would hav been mad if it was anyone else.
Joonie: well, I promise I hav a reason for texting u this early.
Y/N: yea, u do realize its still dark outside, right?
Joonie: thats actually why I texted u. R u busy?
Y/N: …what do u think?
Joonie: right. duh. sleeping. well…
Joonie: do u want to go for a ride with me?
Y/N: a ride? like a car ride?
Joonie: um…not exactly…how quickly could u get ready?
Y/N: depends on what “ready” means.
Joonie: hmm dress for cold weather.
Y/N: its the middle of summer, joon. Even at 4 in the morning its already prolly 60 degrees out. How cold r we talking here?
Joonie: really cold.
Y/N: Im confused.
Joonie: just trust me.
It feels so wrong to be shrugging on the winter coat you had to dig out of the back of your closet as you head out of your apartment. Luckily, no one else is out at this ungodly hour which saves you from having to endure the confused looks. Though if you did run into someone, they’d see that you’re just as confused. That is, until you make it outside where Namjoon said he’d be to meet you. You expected him to be waiting for you in his car. Even on foot wouldn’t be as surprising as the scene you step into once you’re out the front door of your apartment.
Your eyes settle on the giant, orange dragon standing in the middle of the road. The thing is massive. You’ve seen a few Dragonite in your lifetime but never one as big as this thing. It has to be at least twelve feet tall. And while initially it’s terrifying to see such a giant Pokémon just standing there right outside of your apartment—and staring at you, nonetheless—the fear melts away as you meet its eyes. There’s something gentle about the way it looks at you curiously. Its rounded nose and crinkling eyes almost make it look like the thing is smiling.
“Hey, Y/N!”
You only just now realize that the Dragonite isn’t here by itself and you tear your gaze away from its own to look further back at the boy sitting just above its wings.
“Namjoon?” His own eyes lift along with his mouth into a bright smile and even though it’s dark out—the only light being that from the streetlamp across the street and down a bit—you can still see those deep dimples that had you captivated in the first place. “What are you doing here?”
“I was wondering if you wanted to go for a ride,” he says and reaches up to pat his Dragonite on the head. The Pokémon lets out a contented noise, the sound echoing down the block and you take an intimidated step backward.
“Uh, is it safe?” you ask. That was a dumb question. Obviously it is or Namjoon wouldn’t be offering, right?
“Completely,” he replies then swings his leg out from over its wing and slides down off its back. He holds out a hand to you and smiles wider, those dimples growing impossibly deeper. “I have a surprise for you.”
You look down at his offered hand. You haven’t known Namjoon for very long. You met him only about a month ago when he first started volunteering at the Pokémon Center you work at.
You remember his first day there, how you couldn’t seem to keep your eyes from wandering over to him whenever the two of you were in the same room. How you couldn’t help but go a bit soft when you saw the way he handled each Pokémon with such care and tenderness, how he’d speak so gently to them, how they would visibly relax at his soothing words.
He was nice to you from the get-go. The two of you would exchange playful banter and joke around quite a bit. It was obvious you liked each other and you wanted to address it, but at the same time you were so worried that he was just one of those guys that’s nice to everyone and to say anything would just make things awkward. It was a relief when he finally broke down and asked for your number. You gave it to him maybe a little too eagerly but luckily for you, he thought your excitement was cute—and you blushed when he said as much.
But here he is now, that gentle smile on his handsome face, his eyes sparkling, his hand held out to you and you can’t help but feel intrigue and excitement bubbling up inside you. Even if it weren’t for your overpowering curiosity, what kind of person would pass up the opportunity to ride on the back of a Dragonite? And a giant one nonetheless. These are your last thoughts as you shyly reach up to place your hand in his and smile back at him. His hand is so warm wrapped around yours and so solid as he tugs you toward the giant Pokémon behind him.
You watch as Namjoon climbs back up onto it then he reaches down and you wrap your fingers around his wrist. He grips your own wrist and pulls hard. You can’t help the squeal that escapes as he pulls you up so easily with just his one arm. You scramble up, being careful where you place your feet so you don’t accidentally step on the joint where the wings connect to the dragon Pokémon’s back as you settle down behind Namjoon. He still has ahold of your one hand and now you reach around with the other to join it with the first.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a Dragonite as big as this one,” you say. He feels so warm and solid in your arms even through both of your coats.
“I rescued it when it was still just a Dratini from that lab on Cinnabar Island.”
“I’ve heard of that place,” you say. “They do some pretty awful stuff there to Pokémon, don’t they?”
“Yeah,” Namjoon utters and you can hear the anger in his voice. “I’m not sure what they did to it but it was already bigger than any Dratini I’d ever seen before. And I knew that wasn’t normal and that I needed to get it out of there. Luckily, there doesn’t seem to be any other negative effects from whatever they did to it.” Namjoon pats the Pokémon on the head again, eliciting another happy, echoing moan from it.
“You’re amazing,” you utter and immediately feel your cheeks turn red. Did you really just say that out loud?
Namjoon turns his head so he can see you out of the corner of his eye and his cheek lifts in another dimpled grin. “Nah,” he says. “I just try to be a good person, you know?”
You nod and the two of you sit in silence atop the Pokémon for several more moments.
“So, uh,” you finally say. “Is this what you wanted to show me?”
Namjoon perks up. “Oh right,” he says and gives his Dragonite two firm pats on its neck. The Dragonite shifts, dipping its head low and unfolding its wings from either side of you. Then with a hard push against the ground, it kicks up into the air and you squeal, clutching onto the boy in front of you for dear life.
He lets out a chuckle. “It’s okay, Y/N,” he assures you. “Just keep ahold of me and you won’t fall.”
“Will do,” you reply though you don’t think he can hear you over the wind whistling past your ears.
It’s a good thing you’re holding onto him so tightly because as soon as the Dragonite reaches an incredibly terrifying height—the city lights below you now looking more like stars than the actual ones above you—you remember reading that Dragonite can actually fly faster than the speed of sound. And just as you tighten your grip even more on Namjoon’s waist, the dragon Pokémon shoots forward, cutting through the night sky like a bullet. You grit your teeth and press your cheek against Namjoon’s back to keep the wind from stealing your breath away.
Much to your relief, it’s not long before you feel the Dragonite begin to slow down again and when it’s at last going at a more comfortable pace, you lift your head and peer around. It’s still kind of dark out but now the sky is more of a medium blue and the stars have disappeared. Nothing but ocean stretches for miles below you.
“Where are we?” you ask looking around confusedly.
“Somewhere over the Pacific Ocean,” Namjoon replies nonchalantly.
You nod slowly. “And why, exactly are we somewhere over the Pacific Ocean?”
The boy places his hands over your own. They’re much warmer than yours and suddenly you’re glad he told you to dress warmly because it is freaking freezing up there over the ocean. “Because I wanted to show you that,” he says then nods at the horizon in front of him.
You focus farther ahead, past Namjoon’s shoulders and over Dragonite’s head until your eyes land on the line where the ocean ends and the sky begins. At first, you can’t see much of a separation between the two similar shades of blue, but then a sliver of bright orange appears, awakening the sky, shooting streaks of lavender upward. Your breath catches as you watch in silent awe.
The sun rises faster than you thought it would, every inch it gains throwing different colors like buckets of paint across the sky. From dazzling pink to sherbet orange to marigold, and the ocean reflects them all back, the rising sun at the epicenter of this incredible masterpiece being created before you.
You feel tears spring to your eyes and you immediately feel like an absolute dork for being moved to tears by something like a sunrise but the sight along with the feeling of Namjoon’s thumbs rubbing circles across the back of your hand just sends your emotions into overdrive.
This is perfect.
This is perfect and you never want it to end. In a moment of impulsivity, you lean forward and rest your chin on Namjoon’s shoulder. The simple gesture feels so intimate in this silence and maybe he sees it as that too because you hear his breath hitch and his thumb freezes on your skin for a split second before continuing the motion. His own cheek rests against the side of your head and you sigh.
Too perfect.
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autmlea · 5 years
Text
Cream Puffs | 01
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-pairing: taehyung x reader -genre / warnings: fluff, mentions of emotional abuse, angst, future smut -words: 1,470
Summary: You hated that he knew that he knew your weakness. Cream puffs.
Note: My first fic ever I hope you guys enjoy :)
Your A.C decided to give up on you in one of the hottest summers you’ve ever experienced. You took it as a sign that you should probably get out of the house instead of drawing all day.
Paying someone to fix your A.C was out of the question since you couldn’t even afford that with your dry bank account. You blame it on art school. Your art commissions only barely managing to pay off your bills. Also, the small allowance that your parents gave you every other week were quickly wiped out from buying food. That money didn’t even last since you had to pay for spare supplies for school.
You could manage not being able to eat properly or a toilet that doesn’t flush properly-
But you can’t bare living in a oven for the whole summer. You needed to find some plans to get out of the house.
So when you receive a random text out of nowhere from your estranged childhood best friend, Kim Taehyung, you actually consider forgiving him for ignoring you for some chick and ask him to make plans with you.
But luckily for your pride, he asks first.
A notification pops up with a ding on your phone:
“Hey, I’m in town and just wanted to know if you want to meet up”
You hesitate before you even open up the notification on your phone. A couple of minutes later another ding.
“Cream puffs and iced tea? My treat”.
Your tongue salivates at the thought of the cream and the iced tea. You knew he was using your favorite treats to bait you and with the predicament you are in , you can’t find yourself to care anymore.
“Sure is now fine?”.
You curse at yourself silently, knowing how desperate your text sounds.
Ding.
“I’m already here”.
You roll your eyes at the text and grab your bag before you make your way out of you house
A familiar scent welcomes you as you enter. Baked pastries and tea brewing quickly lifting your mood as you walk in further. You immediately feel better and for a minute, forget about all the stress. You almost even forget about why you were mad at Tae.
But it all comes back to you as you  immediately spot him across the cafe, his signature boxy smile making it easy for you.
He’s motions for you to come over to his table and you notice your favorite iced tea and cream puffs already laid in front of him like a trap.
As you make your way over, you eye his smile suspiciously. He was unusually more smiley from the last time you saw him.  Your gut feeling telling you it was because he was nervous. 10 years of friendship can make you beat a lie detector when it comes to him.
He fumbles with a napkin and waits as you sit in front of him.  He opens his mouth to say something but stops in awe as you quickly begin to scarf down the cream puffs in front of you.
You can’t help it, it’s been so long since you had it.
He sits there awkwardly and plays with his sleeves and waits patiently.
Once you finish your cream puffs you glance up at him, signaling him to speak.
“I want to apologize.”
You stare blankly at him and go for the iced tea next.
“For what?”
“C/mon (y/n), you know why. Don’t let me say it, I know I’m terrible”
“Yeah terrible for ignoring me for eight months and refusing to answer my calls”
He groans in exasperation and scratches his scalp, his blonde locks getting tangled in the process.
You notice his new hair and decided to push his buttons.
“Did your new girl suddenly influenced you into this whole new look”.
“What do you mean new look? I chose this-“ he says unusually defensively, but then shakes his head.
“and for a matter of fact- we aren’t together anymore”.
“Ahh, so you’re having that sort of crisis”.
“Crisis?”
“You know when girls cut their hair after a bad life experience or something- but in your case, a breakup“
He sighs and slumps in his chair
“Breakup aside, I’m really sorry. It was a douchebag move of me to do that to you”
You nod. “It really was Tae. I mean, I know to give you space in your relationships , so I’m used to you disappearing for a while and focusing on your flings-“
You stare down at your iced tea.
“-And when you told me that this girl was special too. I understood that you’d have your full attention on her. But I didn’t expect that you would just drop me all at once  completely without any notice for eight whole months-“
You catch yourself rambling and stop. You wait as he stares down at the napkin in his hand, avoiding your gaze.
For what seemed like an eternity he finally spoke, “Believe me I know. She was toxic and hardly even let me see my parents too”.
You glance up from your tea. You realize why you’ve been constantly bombarded by phone calls from Tae’s parents.
 It wasn’t that Tae was being Tae, but because of her.
“Oh”.
 You start to see tears welling up in his eyes. At that moment you being to realize the reason for his change in his outfit and hair.
You think back to before he started ignoring you and was just freshly dating her.
 He’s mentioned: 
“She picked out these clothes”, or “She decided on my hair”.
and , “She decided my new major, so I figured why not!”
Before, you just wrote it off as him being lovey dovey- but you start to realize how much this girl impacted Tae to the point of manipulating him.
It all starts to come in full circle.
He comes back all of a sudden from the place that she decided that they should live, and the new style he comes back with was just his way of trying to get rid of any influence of her.
You don’t know what to say at the point as he rubs his tears away with his sleeve and tries to sit up in his chair to collect himself.
“That bad huh?” you say as you reach over to hold his hand to comfort him- but he pulls away suddenly, as if your hand was a mouse trap that was seconds away from snapping on him.
“I’m sorry-“ he says as he places his palm back. How many times is he going to apologize.
You shake your head quickly before the last syllable leaves his mouth. “It’s fine.” You then pull your gaze away from him and sip on your tea nervously, buying some time to think of what to say and what to do.  You could hardly believe that your best friend was being emotionally abused and you didn’t even know. You didn’t even think that maybe he was suffering too in those eight months. You felt selfish for not pushing further and questioning his strange behavior.
“She fucked me up, (y/n)” he said with a dull chuckle.
“I let her and now I don’t even know who I am anymore or if my choices are because of her.” He continued as he crumpled of the napkin in his hands.
You sat there and struggle to say something. You’ve never been in a relationship and you were angry at yourself for not knowing what to say.
You always assumed that your best friend knew what to do. He never needed help, he was always the one you could lean on-
And now that he needs someone you feel like you can’t even comfort him with the lack of experience you have in this. You tried to settle on holding his hand to comfort him but seeing that he avoided it; your options were limited.
“I’m so sorry” was all you could say.
He nods and smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. 
“It’s okay”.
Minutes later in dead silence he finally speaks.
“I got to go-“ he says as he begins to stand. Panic begins to override you and you’re afraid that he’ll ignore you again and keep it all to himself again.
So you stand up from your chair before he reaches the door and yell his name.
Patrons in the cafe turn to look at you and you bashfully smile in embarrassment. The cafe goes silent and you take advantage of this to say in a much quieter tone.
“Can we get cream puffs again?”
He nods with a smile and you know for sure it’s genuine.
“Sure”
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tipsyrosay · 5 years
Text
i met you when i was 18 | 01
pairing: jjk x reader, kth x reader
genre: college au, fluff & angst
word count: 521
a/n: this is the start of a new series, mainly some short works revolving around reader, jk and tae!
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This time, you’ve dug your own grave and the only thing left for you to do is to lay in it. Really, you’ve outdone yourself. What made you think confessing in public would be in your favour? Maybe it was the way the bride chirped, how your makeup miraculously completed the look you planned and the smile that he sent in your direction this morning. That must have been it, you noted.
The memory sticks with you, like chewing gum to sole of a shoe. You recall the way his doe eyes brighten in surprise at your meek voice greeting him, with a ‘hey’. Taking it as a green light, you proceed to further embarrass yourself as your left hand wrapped their fingers around your bag strap, your efforts in calming down failing miserably. The silence between you grows, and after a minute or so, it doesn’t get any better but he must have realised as warmth in the form of his touch meets you and you stiffened. God, you are so pathetic.
“You alright there?” He voices out. He must think you are just one of those many fan girls that can’t wait to confess their feelings. And boy, is he right. “Y-Yeah...,” you surprisingly reply, shocking yourself. Because just a minute ago, you couldn’t bring yourself to even speak. Sparing a sigh, as you realised the growing crowd around you, your feet retreated, shying away from him, “I’m going to be late for my class, s-so see you around I guess!” Before you dashed away, right hand secured around the banana milk that you bought. Missing the look Jungkook sends your way at your disappearing figure.
“Judging from the way you’re pathetically slouching and the pitiful crumpled papers, I’m guessing it didn’t go as planned?” A voice interrupted your train of thought, plonking themselves onto your right. As a result of that, your sulk only grew. “No shit, Sherlock!” He chuckles, “that bad huh?” Sick of having your soiled plans rubbed in your face, you tackled him at his weakest spot, giving him a taste of his medicine. The sounds that left your mouths were inhuman, mainly you, previously having being told your laughs resembled a dying whale. One thing led to another, from the stomach to the shin to the neck, your fingers attacked wherever you saw fit, knowing his weaknesses. “Okay, I think that’s quite enough for the day!” He lifted his arms in surrender, admitting defeat, panting like a dog. Eyes finding each other, the both of you broke into laughter at the situation, as you bent over, clutching your stomach at the absurdity.
“See? Aren’t you already feeling so much better?” And unexpectedly, your head nods along to his question, and for that you reached forward, arms encasing him in a hug. He basks in your scent, hesitant arms wrapping around your waist, holding you like fine china. For that, you draw away from his embrace almost reluctantly, as your eyes peered into his, sending a message across. Thank you, Taehyung.
He offers you a hand in standing up, dusting the dust off your back.
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hungline · 5 years
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heaven is right here with you
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pairing: queerplatonic taegi  genre: angst, fluff, angel/demon au, rated m  warnings: mild sexual content, the devil, aspects of religion, lgbt identities  a/n: written to fill my wings square for @thereallyhappeningtaegibingo  words: 3300 
summary: Yoongi used to be an angel until they were cast out of heaven. God was merciful when He left Yoongi with their wings intact. 
Taehyung is a lust demon but wants to be human. Satan said that in order to become one, he has to steal Yoongi's wings. 
Eventually, they realize that they don't need heaven to find peace. 
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Yoongi had been cast out of heaven.
It had happened a mere two hundred years after they sprung into existence, but their young age hadn’t stopped the archangels from pushing them into a hazel colored portal which had deposited them onto the banks of some river on Earth. For the first fifty years, Yoongi kept to the inhabited parts of Earth. They wanted to live in safety, away from humans, but eventually, after they had learned how to retract their wings, they’d gone and joined the rest of the barely developing civilization. They thanked God’s mercy for not being stripped of their wings, but they kept them retracted in their back anyways so any prying human eyes wouldn’t learn that Yoongi wasn’t like the rest of them. Prying eyes like Kim Taehyung.
Except Taehyung wasn’t human either. He was a demon. A demon who’d been assigned the task of stealing Yoongi’s wings and delivering them back to his boss, Satan, in exchange for becoming human. Taehyung didn’t like being a demon. Especially not a lust demon. He wasn’t comfortable with the idea of sex and eliciting lust in others didn’t satisfy any part of him. It only satisfied the grumbling in his stomach that told him when he was starving and needed to eat, or in Taehyung’s case, have sex. He’d rather be human instead. Taehyung wanted to be a human man. And, once they became close enough, Taehyung told Yoongi.
He told them everything.
Yoongi had stood with their arms crossed over their chest and their wings tucked neatly behind them. “So in order to become human, you have to take my wings and turn them over to Lucifer?”
Yoongi only knew one name for Taehyung’s boss and it was the name that God had given that fallen angel.
Taehyung had nodded, his tail wrapped tightly around his wrist and his head hung low. “Yes.”
“Is this why you’ve stuck around?”
The demon had bit his lip and reluctantly nodded, only looking up when the angel before him began to laugh.
“What’s so funny?” Taehyung had kept his voice low.
Yoongi had shook their head. “You’re going to have to work to get these wings of mine.”
That was when their partnership began.
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Over the years, Taehyung and Yoongi grew closer and began to bond. They’d already been in each other’s company for three hundred years and neither of the two ever seemed to age. Yoongi was still the pale, skinny, grumpy, and beautiful angel that swatted at Taehyung when he tried to wake them up. Taehyung was still the tanned, lanky, eccentric, and gorgeous demon that always seemed to orbit around Yoongi wherever the two went. And while the world and human civilization kept changing around them, Yoongi and Taehyung remained the same.
Except they didn’t, not really, at least.
Taehyung knew he wasn’t the same demon that had resided in hell for many years. He wasn’t the same demon that had begged Satan to turn him human. He wasn’t the same demon who had insisted on human male pronouns, while in hell, when others would talk about him. When he met Yoongi, the use of his pronouns never became a discussion because the body that Taehyung had chosen for his time on Earth resembled that of males that human society accepted. When Yoongi allowed him to trail after them in order to travel together across Earth, he hadn’t missed the way that over time, whenever they were in each other’s company, that was when they were most at peace with the state of things and the state of their lives.
Yoongi liked to think that they were still the same cherub that had pranced through heaven without a care and then been strung into some poor choices that had resulted in them being thrown out, but Yoongi wasn’t. They hid their wings whenever they were in public. They learned a number of languages whilst traveling. They watched humans live their pitiful lives and they always retreated to wherever Taehyung may be when they needed to get away from human civilization. They accumulated a fortune over the years because humans were dim creatures and Yoongi had been living for centuries and could certainly act, live, and work like humans.
Yoongi’s closest companion was a demon who was after their wings. But that didn’t really bother them. For a demon, Taehyung was overly nice and helpful and though he didn’t his play his role as a human perfectly, Yoongi was always there to smooth out the edges. Many humans assumed they were romantically involved and, eventually, the pair gave up on correcting them. Taehyung was very likable and Yoongi really couldn’t have found a better partner. In turn, Yoongi began to feel other emotions they hadn’t felt in heaven: anger, sadness, joy, sometimes even what they thought was what the humans called love(especially when in the company of Taehyung), or at least something equivalent to love.
Because it must have been love that made them want to offer their body to Taehyung.
Although he was a lust demon, Taehyung took no pleasure in the concept of sex. He felt no need to sink his dick into someone and rock his hips until he orgasmed. 
But the gnawing ache in his stomach had other ideas.
In order to survive, Taehyung had to have sex. He fed off the sexual attraction that his partners had, him orgasming meant absolutely nothing to him most of the time. In their few centuries already spent together Taehyung had regularly visited upon humans in order to achieve his means for survival, but Yoongi knew that the demon didn’t feel sexual attraction and that if it were up to Taehyung, he would never have sex again. Yoongi knew what sex was, they’d watched Taehyung have it once in order to fulfill some kink that his partner had, so they knew what acts Taehyung had to subject himself to in order to survive.
And somewhere along the way, Yoongi had gotten tired of watching Taehyung come back to them after fucking someone only to cry himself dry into Yoongi’s chest. They’d gotten tired of watching how skinny Taehyung’s body would get when he hadn’t had sex in awhile. They’d gotten tired of Taehyung picking up random people to fuck and then loathe in self hatred as soon as he returned. When Taehyung mentioned that having sex always felt easier when it wasn’t with strangers, Yoongi decided to do what any other sane person would do.
They asked Taehyung to fuck them instead.
“What?” Taehyung’s voice was uncharacteristically high.
Yoongi gripped onto Taehyung’s shoulder harder. “I know how much you hate this part of yourself. I’m done seeing you fight with this. So, I’m going to lend you a hand and offer myself up to you.”
Taehyung let them put his hands on their waist and waited for Yoongi to continue because they weren’t done speaking. “You’ve been starving yourself for two months, Tae. That’s your longest time ever. You look like you’re about to collapse where you stand. It frightens me.”
“So, what? Because I look like I’ll faint any minute, you want me to fuck you?” Taehyung murmured, his eyes focused on the way that Yoongi’s wings were twitching behind them and seemed to illuminate the room they shared in their huge Athenian home.
“Well, yes. I thought I made myself very clear,” Yoongi responded.
“Yoongiー”
“If you tell me no, I’ll just go and get the maid that you fucked three months ago and have her seduce you or something.”
Taehyung laughed. “You know that wouldn’t work.”
“I know, but I’m desperate. Those humans keep thinking you’re sick and are relentlessly badgering me about taking you on a trip to the sanctuary of Asclepius in Epidaurus. Do you know how annoying that is?”
Taehyung’s tail whipped out to encircle Yoongi’s wrist to keep the angel from making more agitated motions with their hand. “Of course I do. They tell me the same thing. But I’m still not going to fuck you.”
Yoongi raised an eyebrow. “Why not? You’ve already had sex with every kind of human out there. Males. Females. Humans who identify with neither gender. Even multiple people at the same time. Why would it be any different with me? Is it cause I’m not human?”
Taehyung rubbed at one of his horns in discomfort. “No, it’s because I’d have to see you every day afterwards.”
“You said it was easier with people you already knew.”
The demon nodded. “I did and it’s true, it is.”
“But?”
“I don’t want to push my problems on you.”
“Taehyung, listen, this is also for personal, selfish reasons,” Yoongi murmured, their hands finding their way to Taehyung’s face. “If you don’t have sex soon, this form of yours is going to wither away and I’m going to be left alone. Without you. Please, just let me do this for you.”
Taehyung bit his lips. “Will it even work with you?”
Yoongi shrugged, letting their wings rustle behind them. “I guess we’ll just have to test that ourselves, won’t we?”
Taehyung didn’t like having sex. He felt no personal need to have it, but he had to in order to survive. And if he survived, then he had more time to spend with Yoongi, an angel who’d been cast out of Heaven and was willingly offering themselves up to him because they cared. Yoongi cared about Taehyung. He supposed that he could at least let the angel do this for him, no matter how much Taehyung may have hated sex.
Because Yoongi was finally showing him that they cared and Taehyung knew that he loved them. He loved Yoongi so much and Yoongi loved him.
Sex with Yoongi wasn’t so bad and it worked.
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They experienced many human eras together as they continued to live amongst them, migrating when it became noticeable that they didn’t age and revisiting their favorite places from time to time.
Back when their physical relationship had begun, no one batted an eye at them. With the changing of eras however, came new perspectives and ideas and some humans began to shun Yoongi and Taehyung. Because to them, Yoongi was a human man who was involved with another man both emotionally and physically and they thought that God didn’t agree with that.
But Yoongi wasn’t human and they weren’t a man. They were an angel and angels had no gender. Demons didn’t either, unless they chose to have one like Taehyung had. Yoongi liked who they were, not being associated with a gender had nothing to do with who they felt they were. And if he and Taehyung were together, that was really no business of any human.
It became easier once they migrated to a mass of land that was named after the unification of its colonies. Yoongi quite liked the rugged terrain of land that they had spent months on a ship to get to. They settled near the northern east coast where Taehyung single handedly managed Yoongi’s steel business and earned them more millions.
They progressed with the land’s government and watched as human activists rose from within the country to fight for the rights of humans. Yoongi hadn’t particularly cared about anything the humans had done while they’d been roaming the Earth, but when the activists movement continued into the next century, Yoongi saw that certain things these humans were pushing for would affect them.
Taehyung attended a few meetings that different groups held and bought a large number of books to explain to Yoongi about certain things that piqued his interest.
“Look! This is what the humans call my sexuality,” Taehyung exclaimed, pushing a book into Yoongi’s lap.
Yoongi looked down to meet the words “Asexuality” written across the page before they looked back up at Taehyung.
“So they gave it a name?”
Taehyung nodded, his fluffy brown hair rising with the motion and momentarily hiding his horns. “Yep.”
“Does this make you happy?” Yoongi asked, looking back down at the book to continue reading about what had Taehyung so excited, their wings tucked into their back to avoid discomfort from sitting on the couch for so long.
Taehyung sat himself on Yoongi’s lap, chuckling when the angel let out a huff of annoyance from the unexpected weight, and wrapped his tail around Yoongi’s arm. “Definitely. It’s nice to see the humans acknowledging something that isn’t common. And it’s kinda nice having a name for what I feel when it comes to sex now. It’s been pretty hard just having a feeling and no term for it for so long, you know?”
Yoongi leaned in and kissed Taehyung behind his ear. “Yeah, I know. I’m glad that you have this now.”
Taehyung leaned his head back and kissed Yoongi squarely on the lips. “It’s only a plus. I have you too and that’s more important.”
Before Yoongi could respond, Taehyung was shoving another book into Yoongi’s face. “Oh, hey. I found this too! I think this might make you happy.”
Yoongi took the book, letting Taehyung take the other book from their hands. The angel smiled down at the word that greeted then and leaned forward to kiss Taehyung once more before they went back to reading. Taehyung stared at them happily for some time before he got off their lap when Yoongi murmured out one word with Taehyung’s favorite gummy smile spreading across their face.
“Nonbinary.”
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Yoongi had always known that this moment would happen. They’d known it from the moment they realized that they loved Taehyung.
In fact, they’d known it from the moment Taehyung had said he needed their wings to become human.
Because Taehyung wasn’t really a demon. He was a man stuck in a demon’s body. He was the only friend that Yoongi had ever known and he’d been Yoongi’s companion for many centuries. There was absolutely no way that Yoongi was going to continue to allow Taehyung subject himself to sex when he felt no need for it. And they were tired of watching Taehyung hate himself for being a demon. If anything, this visit of Yoongi’s was very much long overdue.
So now Yoongi found themself sweating through their clothes, their wings on full display and standing before Lucifer.
“Finally,” Lucifer let out, sitting on his throne with his hand tucked beneath his chin.
Yoongi cut right to the chase. “You know why I called this meeting.”
Lucifer nodded. “I’ve been expecting this for a long time. I was surprised you didn’t contact me sooner.”
“Taehyung wouldn’t let me near anything demon-related. He didn’t want me to give up my wings for him.”
“But here you are, about to do it anyways.”
Yoongi nodded, their wings fluttering behind them. Pretty soon their wings would be gone and Yoongi didn’t know what would happen to them once they were. Would they cease to exist or would Yoongi just become a wingless angel? Either way, they were ready to do this.
“I love him. Can you blame me?” Yoongi notched their head to the side, meeting Lucifer’s blank stare.
“Love is a funny thing. You know, as an angel, you’re not supposed to love anything other than God,” Lucifer answered, his tail wrapping around his calf.
Yoongi nodded again. “I know. But I was kicked out of heaven a long time ago and the only good thing that came out of it was Taehyung. If I can do this for him, then nothing else really matters.”
Lucifer chuckled. “You are not the only one, Yoongi. I may be the Devil now, but I was once an angel just like you.”
“Yes, I know. Everyone in heaven knows about you, Lucifer.”
Lucifer stilled. “No one has called me that in a long time.”
“It’s your name.”
“Yes, I suppose it is.” Lucifer sat forward in his throne. “You are one hundred percent sure that you want to do this, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Then step forward.”
Yoongi did. Their wings unfurled behind them as soon as they stood at the foot of the throne. The throne room was hot, but the area around Lucifer was even hotter and Yoongi had to fight to not swipe a hand across their sweaty forehead. Lucifer stepped down from his throne and let the walking stick in his hand rest upon Yoongi’s shoulders.
A warm feeling began to creep up Yoongi’s back. It felt nice, almost like water from a bath, and slowly their back began to feel lighter until they felt something hit the floor behind with a loud thud. There was something light, airy, and very grounding settling itself into Yoongi’s chest and it took them a second to realize it was their new soul. The throne room had become hotter and Yoongi suddenly felt very breakable. They took a moment to let their equilibrium settle before they looked up to meet Lucifer’s eyes.
“You and Taehyung are both human now. You can die and you can live, but you can also do that together,” Lucifer murmured, his voice much more softer than Yoongi would have thought possible. “Now go, before being in hell melts your soul.”
“Thank you,” Yoongi managed to say before they let their knobbly legs take them where they needed to go.
Lucifer watched them leave, a pang of nostalgia rising within him as he looked back down at the wings at the foot of his throne. They would be fine now.
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Yoongi closed the door of their apartment behind them as they stepped inside. Taehyung was waiting for them, their horns and tail gone and Yoongi was relieved to see that it'd worked and Lucifer had kept his word. Yoongi’s boyfriend was crying, his face unreadable and before any words could be spoken, Yoongi had pressed themself against him, pulling his head down towards them to brush his lips against theirs in a kiss. Taehyung’s arms came up to cradle them to their chest and their kiss was wet from tears and very sloppy, but at that moment neither of the two seemed to care because Yoongi had just done the unimaginable and Taehyung was still in shock.
They pulled apart much more quickly than they were used to, but their new human bodies required much more oxygen than their former bodies had and they were both still reeling about how everything they’d always done felt much more different now that they were human. Yoongi hadn’t known what they should've said exactly, so they let Taehyung speak first.
“Why?”
It was a simple question really and Taehyung knew that Yoongi understood what he was referring to, nonetheless, Yoongi was still shaking. Their heart was thumping in their chest much more forcefully than ever, and Taehyung was holding them like they were glass that could possibly shatter at any moment, and Taehyung was kind of right, but he was also wrong. Yoongi’s new human body was frail and much more breakable than their former angel body had been, but they were fine now that they were with Taehyung. And really, the answer to his question was simple so Yoongi brought themself closer to Taehyung and kissed him again.
They pulled back to mutter, “I had to, I love you too much.”
Taehyung was still crying as he let Yoongi’s answer sink in. His hair was ruffled from his earlier frantic searching of where his horns had went, but there was no longer an ache in his stomach. He felt lighter and Yoongi was back his arms so he felt much better. Yoongi may not have been an angel anymore, but they were still Taehyung’s own personal slice of heaven and that was really all that mattered. That’s all that had ever mattered.
“Thank you.”
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sopewriters · 6 years
Note
Hi! Could you please do "God, just look at your ass. Your hole is gaping from having my cock in it and you love it, don't you?" with J-Hope. Please and Thank You!
Yes I can! (or I can at least try to lol). Here ya go and I hope it’s up to your standards :) 
J-Hope (Jung Hoseok). 1289 words. Smut (Royalty AU! Inspired by this). 
“You promised to serve me, did you not?” Hoseok’s tone is far from the soft and kind one that you’re used to, much firmer and commanding now, possessed with the aura of the heir to the throne. His sharp eyes study you as you rest on your knees in front of him, teeth biting into your lower lip in trepidation. 
“In all ways.” He adds, reminding you of the first time you had indulged in this dangerous dalliance. You know that this…tryst, it’s not going to end in a ‘happily ever after’. 
No. What is probably going to happen is that you’re going to keep working in the castle, cleaning the same fancy cutlery, mopping the same exquisite marble of the halls and tending to his needs. Sex and all. While he marries the richest princess in the land and gives the country and heir. 
Although for now, such cynical thoughts are banished from your mind, only anticipation of pleasure remaining. Besides, his crowning ceremony is months away and marriage is the least of his wants or concerns. 
“Yes.” You answer, hands folded neatly over your lap as you look up at him, matching his unrelenting gaze. 
“Then you won’t be needing those clothes. Take them off and get on the bed.” He unbuttons his dress shirt, taking it off in one fell swoop and hanging it on the knob in his closet. 
It’s ironic, really, that he ruins the very bed that you’d made in the morning with you, only to have you make it once more. But you don’t complain, enjoying the pleasure that he fills you with far too much.
You shirk off your dress easily, only having to undo a few knots before having it fall off your shoulders onto the floor. You pull your underwear down as well, folding the dress in a neat pile and placing your underwear on top of it before setting it by the bedside. You’d need it clean when you would have to leave. Hoseok had offered for you to stay and not worry but for your and your family’s sake, you’d rather not have all the workers in the castle knowing about your relationship with the Prince. 
You may be no princess but you don’t want to be known as the Prince’s whore either. 
You seat yourself on the soft mattress and each time that you’ve been on it, it gives you the feeling of floating on the cloud. It’s a luxury you’d really come to appreciate and almost wished you could sleep on it the whole night. 
Hoseok walks over to his drawer, pulling out an oil warmer and lighting the candle underneath it before procuring a vial that he pours on the top. 
“I want to do something different tonight.” He looks over at you, eyes spanning over your bare chest, nipples standing on end, and your core hidden under your crossed legs, “With your permission, I… I’d like to fuck your ass.” 
Your eyes widen in shock because you’ve never done that before, fear creeping in slowly with equal, if not more, amounts of interest. It isn’t that you don’t want to, but you have no experience with it nor any knowledge of it.
“S-Sure… but I’ve never taken it there.” Your affirmation definitely leads to some relaxation in his tense expression, a sigh slipping past his lips before he looks back at you with unwavering confidence. 
“That’s fine, I’ll take care of it for you.” He slowly walks over to you, pushing you down into the mattress before pressing his lips against yours, his fingers slipping down to rub you between your legs. 
You gasp and moan when he lowers his mouth to your neck, fingers still working deftly against the folds of your pussy and making your arousal drip down your crotch. He continues his ministrations for a few minutes until he’s content with the slick covering both your holes. 
“Get on all fours.” He commands, pulling back from you and you do as he asks while he takes some of the oil in his hand, dripping the warm liquid over your back and you clutch the sheets nervously. 
He runs his slender fingertips over your crack, prodding lightly at your muscled rim before slowly easing in one of his fingers into it. It’s a foreign sensation and you grimace lightly when he moves his finger in and out but soon, it transforms into a different flavour of pleasure, leaving you gasping for more. 
“Are you okay?” His concern is heart-warming, stark opposite of the filthy pleasure his finger delivers to you, and you nod, moaning softly when he pushes in another finger, stretching you out and getting you ready to take his length. 
His other hand rests on your hip, slowly trailing it down to your pussy and rubbing at it lightly while he thrusts deeper into you, stretching your tight hole out. It feels overwhelming and his touch electrifies each nerve, raising the threshold of your pleasure with it. You know that no matter how much you try to convince yourself that this is not permanent, you know that with each time you sleep with him, he’s ruining you more for whomever else you choose. 
“I think I’m ready…” He stops his movements at your words, looking at you for affirmation and once you nod, he pulls his fingers out of you and undoes the string tying his pants up. 
“Don’t worry, I’ll be careful in the beginning.” He runs his hand down your spine when he sees you tense up as he runs his dick over your hole, “Just relax.” 
He peppers kisses over your back till he feels you slowly relax in his hold, slowly prodding your hole with the tip of his length before easing it into you. You let out a loud groan, falling down on the bed as he fills you up inch-by-inch. It’s different, definitely, but a good kind. The kind that slowly changes into a sumptuous pleasure that leaves you aching for more. 
He lets you adjust but once you’re sighing and wiggling your ass on your own, he experimentally thrusts into you and you moan his name loudly, raising yourself back up and slowly moving your body on your own. 
“Such an obedient girl I’ve got,” He wraps your hair around his hand, pulling you back and thrusting in deep, and the angle has him hitting your sweet spot which makes you cry out softly, “Do you like this pet?” 
You nod eagerly, moaning softly when he runs his free hand over your chest, squeezing your breast before tugging at your perked buds. 
The room is filled with lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin, as his thrusts begin to grow relentless, making you take his length to the hilt, and tiny punched out sounds that leave your mouth as you revel in the depraved ecstasy you’d only fantasized about. 
“God, just look at your ass,” He runs his hand over your round bottom, giving it a spank in appreciation, before he pulls his length out almost entirely, “Your hole is gaping from having my cock in it and you love it, don’t you?”
He tugs harder at your hair, pulling you closer to him and he presses a kiss against your cheek as he waits for a reply. 
“Y-Yes… Hoseok, please don’t stop, I need… to come.” You murmur, hole tightening around him and a low groan leaves his lips. 
“Don’t worry pet.” He lets go off your hair and with a hand against your back, pushes you down on the mattress again before gripping your hips tightly and slamming back into you, “I don’t intend to let you leave tonight unsatisfied.” 
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Written By: Sangria~
116 notes · View notes
aiimaginesbts · 6 years
Text
He Left (M)
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2018 Birthday Story for Hoseok!
Hoseok x Reader (ft. Taehyung, Seokjin, Yoongi and Namjoon)
Genre: Japanese period AU, smut, angst & fluff
Word count: 12,362 words
A/N: Credit for the banner art goes to SiChen Wang. Check out their awesome art here! Many thanks to Ana @dangitthatsalongname and Alyssa @wonhoandonly for beta-ing for me!
**Japanese terms used are at the end of the story.**
Disclaimer/Copyright
"We have found a suitable husband for you.“
To anyone else, having their father utter these words will either bring them indescribable joy or unfathomable dread, but I don’t find myself feeling any emotions. Nor can I search for any words other than, "I see. Thank you for letting me know, Father.”
Pretending to be unaware of the concerned stares of my parents, I excuse myself to return to my room. On my table sits a book that is, in my opinion, far more interesting than the news that I will soon be wed. Something is definitely wrong with me. Or so everyone else thinks.
“Well, I for one would be excited to be married to the son of the Jung family,” my maid gushes to me the minute we’re safely ensconced in the privacy of my room.
“You marry him then,” I say absentmindedly as I take a seat and reach for my book. It’s more of a good-natured teasing more than anything, but I’m surprised to hear her girlish giggle at the mere thought from across the room. She’s clearly giddy over whatever it is she’s heard about the Jung’s only son. The urge to roll my eyes and laugh at her antics is hard to resist, and I don’t even bother to stop myself.
“All right, what is it about this man that has you so excited?” I ask, looking up to give her my full attention, although my hand is laid upon the open page, marking the place where I’ve stopped reading. As a maid, she is more susceptible and privy to gossips among the lower classes and also about the more noble families. It’s pretty obvious that she knows something juicy about my future husband; something that she’s eager to share with me, and I don’t mind indulging her. There’s not much else in the way of entertainment for me after all.
“Well.” Satisfied that she has piqued my interest, she slides closer to me on the opposite side of my reading table. Her voice drops to a low whisper, as if she’s divulging a secret that is crucial to the country’s safety. “Rumour has it that he has single-handedly brought the Jung family to the emperor’s attention. Granted, the Jungs have always been known as samurai but they weren’t this well-known before.” She grins proudly, like she’d been the one to bring them to their state of prosperity now. “He’s serving Lord Seokjin under his commander-in-chief, Kim Namjoon. And you know that Lord Namjoon doesn’t choose just anyone to command his men.”
The guy has a shining reputation, that’s for sure. I must say that I’m pleasantly surprised, although it doesn’t exactly make him any more appealing as a life partner. Still, it sounds like he is a busy man, so that should keep me out of his hair after we’re married. That’s a relief especially if he’s annoying; or worse, abusive. I’ve considered myself to have had a charming, if too quiet and consistent life up to now, and I’m glad that it seems like that won’t change much after I marry.
However, it doesn’t seem like my attendant is finished. “I’ve heard that he’s not just a talented commander, but he’s a gifted warrior as well. Men say that when he fights, it’s not violence, but an art.” I have to stop myself from snorting at that. The mental imagery that forms in my head when I think of battles are; burly, muscular men roughly attacking their opponents in a savage fight to emerge victorious. War tactics? Brilliantly carried out, well-thought of strategies I can consider a form of art. But the actual execution; violent exchanges between oafish warriors? That can hardly be called graceful. “Most importantly,” my maid continues, blissfully unaware of my thoughts, “he’s supposed to be very good-looking!”
“Hmm,” I hum after I’ve waited long enough to make sure that she’s finished spilling the beans on my husband-to-be. “He sounds like a good catch.”
Her nods at my simple conclusion are so eager that I wonder if she doesn’t get a headache from the rapid movements. “Probably one of the best! You should be excited.”
Unsure of how to respond, I try flashing her a wide smile. Happy that I’ve apparently appreciated the match that my parents have arranged for me, she gets up to tend to her duties. As soon as she slides the door closed and her footsteps fade, I heave a sigh and return to my book. Really, is a strong, handsome man something to get so thrilled about? It doesn’t really make much of a difference to me. I don’t even know the man.
As expected, the shrine is packed with people visiting for the new year. Rarely do I see this many people gathering in one place on any other day, and I take the opportunity to look around at the surroundings. The feast of colours that my eyes are served with is plentiful as everyone don their best clothes on to mark the occasion. Smiles are exchanged with one or two familiar faces that I recognise, but I remain at my spot in line near the gate of the shrine. Although the line suddenly moves substantially, I resist a sigh at the long wait that is still in front of me. It is then that I shift my sight a little to the right and I see it.
A pair of eyes that catches mine. The sharp yet warm orbs are already locked on me when mine cross paths with them. Widening my view, I see that they belong to a young man standing quite a few ways away from me. He seems to command a lot of attention, having a group of people of mostly men surrounding him, trying to engage him in conversation even whilst he has his sights set on me. His emerald kimono is a pleasant contrast to the mop of dark red hair atop his head, making him stand out among the crowd. Across the distance that separates him from me, the brilliance of his eyes that hasn’t failed to release me keeps me in place, unknowingly staring back at him openly. Neither does he bother to look away although it’s clear that he has been caught watching me. No one else seems to have noticed the intense, soundless exchange between us. Later I may reason with myself that he’s the one who started gazing at me first, but at the moment I am just as mesmerised with him as he is fixated on me. Through his moving lips and head movements, I can tell that he’s still keeping up with the discussion with the men who are, mostly, bigger than he is, yet there is no doubt in my mind that he’s watching me. I have no idea why. There is no doubt that such unwavering observation is odd. Still, instead of being repulsed by the attention, I’m intrigued by him.
So much that the gentle pat on my shoulder makes me jump and yelp in surprise. “What are you spacing around for? The line is moving.” Whipping my head around, I come face-to-face with my mother’s brusque words accompanied by her irritated expression, and notice the growing gap between us and the people in line before us. Duly chastised, I mutter an apology and scramble to close the distance. However, once I come to another standstill, my gaze immediately flies to search for the man again. He’s still looking at me unabashedly, a smirk on his face. Is he laughing at me? Blood rushes to my cheeks straightaway and finally I look forward, refusing to meet his stare again. What’s the point of gawking, anyway? I can hardly leave the company of my parents to go up and talk to him. Plus, that is simply not something that a woman should do. So I content myself to getting out of his sight and end the visit with as much dignity as I can.
“Can I go?”
The next day has me asking my parents if I can go with my maid to enjoy the new year festivities. With our first shrine visit of the year done, I’m eager to stave off boredom of being cooped up at home. People are still very much celebrating and it’s rare for the town to be as bustling and interesting as it is now compared to any other time of the year. With a smile, my mother shrugs and says, “I don’t see why not, as long as your father approves.”
The two of us swivel our heads towards the head of the house, who is engrossed by a letter that I can only assume was written by someone important. “It will be nice to get some fresh air and look around,” I direct the persuasive force towards him, parroting the words of my attendant when she was persuading me to join her just a few minutes ago.
“Go ahead, enjoy yourself,” he permits gruffly, never taking his eyes off the words written in careful brush strokes over the parchment. “Just be sure to keep to the main street!”
“I will, thank you,” I promise and make haste to excuse myself, joining my excited maid waiting anxiously outside the room.
“Did they say yes?” She tilts up her head eagerly to look at me, as if she hasn’t been trying to eavesdrop with her ear to the door. Inwardly laughing at her enthusiasm, I grin and nod.
“Of course they did. We practically go every year,” I answer her, leading the way back to my room. With her help, I tie my light pink obi sash around the green kimono that I’ve put on. Even though the soft pink flowers that adorn my clothes lend me a more feminine air, the colour reminds me of the man that I saw at the shrine yesterday, and I can’t help the lightness that bubbles over me. Today feels like a good day.
The weather seems to be echoing my sentiments, the rare sun shining over the cold earth with a light breeze giving me the urge to fly if only I could. Alas, without wings, I am unable to do so, thus I wrench my gaze away from the cloudless, azure sky to the myriad of colours down on earth where I belong. Unlike the peaceful heavens above, painted by shades of blues and whites, the spread before me is dotted with various hues, both of festive clothing and behaviour. The street is lined with stalls on both sides, each one displaying different wares. I can see a man in a heated argument over a knife wrapped in an ornate sheath with the seller who doesn’t seem to be budging, next to them, some children excitedly ordering… Was that ten? Of something to the flustered shopkeeper, who obviously isn’t sure whether they can pay for it or not. Opposite them is a beautiful woman who is blatantly flirting with the furiously blushing vendor, obviously hoping for a slash in the price of whatever it is that has struck her fancy. There are so many people, and I can’t help but wonder if my future husband is among the crowd.
“What are you waiting for?” My companion urges me on, eager to explore the festival. “Let’s go!”
With an amused laughter at her impatience, I let her lead me into the fray. It isn’t long before her attention is stolen by something; an array of unusually-coloured threads that is claimed to have been produced by a novel technique. Unfortunately the smell of peaches up ahead is more tantalising to me than sewing material, so we part ways, agreeing to find each other before heading home in about an hour.
My nose proves to be on the mark, and just a few minutes later I’m walking along the street, munching on the sweet fruit, savouring the slight tartness underneath the juicy flesh. Belatedly I realise the reason all the food stalls have been calling to me; I’d forgotten to have my meal before heading out earlier. Thankful that my purse is not as empty as my stomach, I decide to indulge my sweet tooth and head towards a man showing off an impressive collection of sweets. They look even more appetising up close. I can see the tiny details in the finishing of each treat, the meticulous care given not to be outshone by the appealing colours of the confectionery.
I’m hardly the only person that the high quality products have attracted. The seller has his hands full with customers, but I don’t mind. It gives me the time to admire every sweet and decide which one I’d like to purchase. However, a bright green dessert piques my interest, so when the man turns to beam at me, I take the opportunity to timidly ask him what it is before I can change my mind. His reply is friendly and informative, making me feel welcome, a great strategy to get his customers to loosen their coin bags.
“I’ve never tried it before. Does edamame really work as a sweet?”
Instead of the vendor, another voice, just as pleasant and ten times more enthusiastic, chimes in. “The best way to find out is to try it!”
I turn and look up to see the person that has been on my mind since the first time I’ve seen him the day before. It’s the beaming man from the shrine! At this distance, I can see that his eyes, which had gazed into mine so intently yesterday are brown, melting rather than just warm, several shades darker than his hair. My heart goes pitter-patter at the closeness of his body to mine, but I’m not given time to respond, as he orders two of the sweets. When he reaches around me to pay for his purchase and retrieve the goods, I’m rendered immobile for a reason unknown to myself. It isn’t simply because he’s between me and the stall, pinning me against him. I don’t think I’d be able to move even if I can. However, it seems that I’m still breathing, as I catch a whiff of his scent; an intoxicating, earthy smell that is both refreshing and manly at the same time.
“Here.” He offers me one of the green treat that I was admiring, but I refuse to take it. I’m touched by the gesture, but it doesn’t seem proper to let an unknown person buy me anything.
“I can’t eat them both, so if you won’t take it, I’ll be forced to throw it away. Won’t that be a waste?” He pops the other into his mouth, slowly chewing as he slowly nods his head, as if making a careful assessment of the sweet. I don’t usually let my guard down around strangers but for some reason, I feel a giggle building up inside me. “It’s just as good as it looks. You’re really missing out if you don’t try it.”
How can I say no to him? I’m not sure why, but I really can’t, despite any logical reason that I can come up with. Besides, it’s obviously not poisoned, as he’d just bought it right in front of my eyes and ate one. So I hesitantly reach out for the other one, fingertips tingling where they touch his palm as I retrieve his gift. Tilting my head down slightly, I bite into it so he can’t see my reaction. Light sweetness fills my mouth, and I fight to resist a happy moan at the taste. Even then it’s easy for him to detect my satisfaction.
“It’s good, isn’t it?”
“It is,” I agree quietly, facing him again. “Thank you very much, um—”
“Hoseok,” he introduces himself. After reciprocating with my name, he asks me if I’m looking for anything in particular. Truthfully, the one who probably has a goal in mind is my companion whom I’ve left behind earlier, while I’m only out to entertain myself. So I tell him, “no. I’m just looking around.”
The smile that greets my answer is almost blinding. “Why don’t we do some exploring together then?” Before I can hesitate or refuse outright, he adds, “it’s definitely more fun to check out this sort of thing with someone rather than by your lonesome, isn’t it?”
There’s no arguing with that statement, so I shyly nod and fall into step next to him. Although I don’t doubt him in the slightest, it isn’t long before he proves himself right beyond my expectations. The yearly festival that I normally find mildly interesting and entertaining before is now infinitely more enjoyable next to Hoseok. It isn’t that he’s doing or saying anything special. Yet the enthusiasm and energy that he puts into everything; the wares on sale, his chatter with both sellers and customers alike, even something as simple as his lighthearted steps are infectious. It’s like I’m looking at everything through a whole new light, a completely different view, and I’m relishing every moment.
So much that only when I see my maid a scant hundred meters away do I remember that I didn’t come here alone. That, and the fact that I am a betrothed woman who is thoroughly enjoying herself in the company of a man I hardly know. Panic and guilt takes over, and I hurriedly inform Hoseok that I have to take my leave, managing to apologise for being so abrupt before rushing towards her, hoping that she hasn’t seen me with him.
“There you are! I thought you went back home without me. I was just about to give up on you,” she breathes a sigh of relief when I approach her.
“I promised to meet up with you, didn’t I?” My reply isn’t as indignant as it would have been otherwise, since I am completely aware that I’d forgotten about the agreement not long after meeting Hoseok. As we start to walk away, I turn back, my eyes roving through the crowd, but he has already been swallowed by the sheer number of people going about. Even though I tell myself that it’s for the best, I can’t honestly ignore the way that my heart sinks to the ground.
“Did you eat something bad earlier?”
“Hmm?” Her question rouses me from my thoughts, where I am still hopelessly lost in even after hours of leaving the company of Hoseok. There’s just something about him that makes him stick in my memory like the most stubborn glue, and does untold things to my heart that hasn’t stopped beating erratically since the moment I laid eyes on him. It’s bewitching, thrilling, enlightening and frustrating all at the same time. I can’t imagine ever feeling this way about someone, yet I can’t fully describe my emotions when it comes to him. A connection that evokes feelings that I’ve never felt before, ones that I never want to stop experiencing, but I can’t indulge in. More than once I’ve wondered if the man I will marry can make me feel the same way, but I know that no one can ever achieve what Hoseok has done to my heart.
However, my maid’s concern doesn’t dissipate. Even after I tell her that there’s nothing wrong, her scrutiny quickly puts more pressure on my already muddled mind. It’s not long before I mumble something about having a headache and needing some fresh air just to get away from her. Fortunately, the threads that she bought earlier are keeping her occupied, so I leave her to match the strands to the fabrics that she already has on hand and walk out into the garden. The night air is refreshing and I greedily inhale deep breaths of it, trying to calm myself down.
It’s then that a rustle in the bushes not far from the wall of the house puts any thought of regaining my composure out of my mind. I squint warily to make out anything unusual in the darkness, ready to sound the alarm the moment I see anything or anyone dangerous. At first I can’t distinguish between the shadows and the shrubbery, but just as my eyes adjust, I see a figure emerging, moving towards me. Before I can scream bloody murder, however, a pleasant, familiar voice that tingles in my ears accompanied by the muted light from inside the house falling on him make my heart drum rapidly, but now for an entirely different reason.
“Hoseok! What are you doing here?” My shock added to my panicked state makes it easy for me to inject a high-pitched quality to my whispered words. Hurriedly looking behind me to make sure that no one is around to witness his presence and our exchange, I rush towards him. A thousand questions whirl around inside my head, yet I can’t deny the delirious exhilaration that I’m getting just from seeing him again, despite the perilous circumstances that he has put both of us in.
“I came to see you.” He sounds just as out of breath as I feel, but more out of excitement than alarm. Reaching out, he takes my hands in his. A simple gesture that has my pulse racing. “You left so suddenly earlier, I was worried that you got into a spot of trouble and didn’t manage to get home safely.”
His concern over my safety is disarming, but it doesn’t tell me how he found me. “How did you know that this is my house?”
Now it’s his turn to look surprised. “Don’t you know who I am?”
What does that have to do with anything? I think to myself, a little irritable over having my question answered by another one. “You’re Hoseok. Well, at least that’s who I think you are, unless you lied to me earlier,” I answer, now feeling a little uncertain.
There is pure delight in his chuckle at my reply, and it makes it hard for me to remain annoyed at him. “Of course I was telling you the truth. But I guess you don’t know my full name?”
Again, I don’t know how this has a connection to how he found me, but I decide to humour him and nod. “I’m Jung Hoseok,” he reintroduces himself, this time telling me his full name then looking at me expectantly.
Jung Hoseok, I repeat the name in my head. Jung— I gape up at him with wide eyes as his last name triggers a switch in my head. “You’re my—”
“Husband to be,” he finishes for me, confirming the fact. Happiness and relief wash over me at the revelation. I can’t believe my luck! After agonising over these feelings I’m developing for Hoseok, it turns out that he is exactly the man I’m allowed to harbour emotions for. Glee dissipates just the tiniest bit for me to calm myself enough to ask, “did you know who I am from the beginning?”
“I wasn’t completely sure at first, but I had a pretty good idea,” he smirks confidently, proud of his deduction as he explains to me. “I know your father, and when I saw you with him at the shrine, I could guess who you are. So when I caught sight of you earlier at the festival, I had to come up to ask you for your name. Well, that and…”
Hoseok’s sudden hesitation makes me all the more curious about what is going on in his mind. “And what?” I prompt.
“I wanted to get to know you better and see if we suit,” he continues in a softer tone, suddenly bashful.
That’s a valid reason. Even if I wasn’t interested in anything about my future husband before, now that I’ve actually met him, I find myself grateful to him for giving me the opportunity to get to know him before the ceremony. “So… Do we?” Anxiously I ask, my voice dropping to match his, hoping for one answer, and one answer only.
The grip of his hands over mine tightens as he lowers his head down to press his forehead against mine. I can’t help but become immersed in the limpid pools of his eyes, a molten lava reflecting the light past us. Even before he utters the words I want to hear, the way he beams at me tells me everything I need to know. “I think we do.”
At that moment, everything else ceases to matter. The uncertainty and confusion over my own feelings. My marriage that has been arranged by my parents. Hoseok’s presence in the grounds of my home, and the consequences if we are discovered. All that exists is his heat, his smile, his existence, and I can’t help the corners of my lips from curling upwards, thanks to him.
“What do you think?”
I’d have thought that the answer is obvious, but before I can give him an answer, I hear my name being called from inside the house. After glimpsing back at the direction the voice is coming from, I turn back to him in dismay. I wish we can spend more time together, but we are lucky to have had as much as we did. “You have to go. There will be no end of trouble if you’re found.”
He is in complete agreement with my thoughts. With a reassuring smile, he murmurs goodnight, lets me go to climb over the wall and disappears from sight. The night air is cool on my now exposed hands, making me miss the heat that emanated from his hands. After taking a few minutes and several deep breaths to clear my head, I make up my mind and return to my room.
“I thought you decided to sleep outside tonight,” my attendant teases me as I slide the door shut. “It was so tempting to stop calling for you and just abandon you to the night.”
I shoot her a dry look that is half exasperation, half amusement. Since I’m bursting to tell her about Hoseok, I decide to let her comment slide. “I met him,” I tell her without much preamble.
“Who?” She asks confusedly, as to be expected from the lack of context.
“Hoseok,” I answer, then add for clarification, “Jung Hoseok.”
Quick to put two and two together, she exclaims, “Your husband?!”
“Future husband,” I correct her, but hearing him being referred to as such makes me want to giggle like a little girl. Never one to shy away from gossip, she presses me for every single detail she can wring out of me. Details that I’m eager to share with her now that I’m not worried about harbouring inappropriate feelings for a man who is not my betrothed. It is necessary, after all, a given for me to come clean considering the favour that I’d like to ask of her.
A favour that she’s only too happy to oblige. It isn’t very common for someone like Hoseok and I to be able to lay eyes on each other before marriage, much less meet and spend time together, but we’re lucky to be able to manage to do so several times afterwards with her help. Sometimes she keeps watch while he sneaks into my home, others are opportunities created when I can find an excuse to go outside. It’s nowhere as often as either of us would have liked to, but it’s the most we can hope for, especially with his demanding work, and I cherish each and every moment I’m able to spend with him.
Little by little, without me noticing, just Hoseok’s entrance into my world has given my life a whole new meaning. I have something to look forward to, a motivation to improve myself, a constant variable that has dug a wrench between the cogs of my every day routine. Even as I get to know him better, I never tire of his endless energy, the bubbly laugh that is the perfect pairing to his cheerful outlook on life, every little habit and behavioural ticks, both good and bad, slowly but surely growing on me. My concern for his well being starts to manifest the first time he has to leave the town to settle a skirmish at the border. It isn’t the last time he has to leave to fulfill his duties, but my hope that he returns safely remains the same every time. Gradually, he changes me, subtle enough that no one but my maid notices, one day pointing out that since I met him, I’m not simply content with my life. I am now happy. With each passing day, I find myself falling more and more for him, becoming more and more convinced that he is the one I want to spend the rest of my life with. I’m thankful that my wish is one that will soon be fulfilled. Or so I thought.
Three weeks. It is a mere three weeks before I’m meant to be married to Hoseok when we receive the news; due to the upcoming war, the ceremony will have to be postponed. The only person who knows about our blossoming relationship, and has seen me fret over his absence over settling a simple dispute understands full well my thoughts about him leaving for a full on war. There isn’t much that she can say to console me, however.
“I understand that he has to go, and I don’t plan to stop him,” I tell her in an almost completely detached manner. “It’s his duty to his lord. His way of fighting for his beliefs, to protect the people he loves. I won’t take that away from him. I just wish…” I don’t know what I’d wish for, even if I can make one. That there isn’t a war looming over the horizon? That Hoseok isn’t a samurai? That I haven’t fallen hopelessly in love with him? That we’re already married so at least he goes off to battle knowing that I am already his? Impossible. All impossible. All but one.
There is no doubt what I want. If Hoseok feels the way I do, he would want the same thing. However, I’m sure no one else will approve. Thus I’m careful in making sure that my exit from the house isn’t detected by anyone. It’s nerve-wracking, and I let out a breath I don’t know I’m holding when I manage to get out without anyone noticing. Once I’ve gotten to the streets, no one looks at me twice, and I think that the hardest part is over. Until I reach the castle.
I should have known that I would be stopped right at the gate. It is rare, probably unheard of, for a woman to march up to the castle to see the daimyo of the land, a famous warlord, after all. Bewilderment is clear on the guards’ faces as they inquire me about my presence here. I introduce myself, stressing on the family I come from, as I know that they would recognise the name. However, when they ask me the reason I’ve come, I falter. Matters regarding marriages fall onto the hands of the head of the household, and is not something that I should meddle with. There is no doubt that I will be refused if I’m forthcoming about it with them.
“I’d like to see Lord Seokjin regarding a private matter,” I try to say as authoritatively as I can, drawing myself up to my full height, although it isn’t all that impressive as the two guards still tower intimidatingly over me. They look at each other, doubt clearly painted on their faces.
“I’m sorry, my lady, but we can’t grant just anyone an audience with Lord Seokjin like this,” one of them informs me apologetically. The rejection is not unexpected, but my heart still drops to my stomach. I can’t simply accept this and go home meekly.
“Please, it’s very important,” I try to make my case even as I step forward, but they swiftly block my path. To force my way through would be foolish to the extreme, as they will have no trouble catching me even if I can miraculously push them aside, but I don’t know what else to do. Smart enough to realise that I am not someone that can be carelessly dealt with, they’re hesitant to use force, but just by forming an impenetrable wall in front of me is enough to keep me from advancing. It’s beyond frustrating, and our argument is starting to turn into something of a commotion on that particularly quiet day, when a tall man strolls leisurely past. His gait, much like his clothes, gives off a laid-back appearance, yet the easy expression as he looks on at the embarrassing spectacle and the fabric of his kimono tells me that he is a person of importance.
My suspicions are proven true when the two men obstructing me bow to him respectfully. He acknowledges them with a bored nod, before turning to me with more interest. “What is going on here?”
I’m unsure who the man is addressing, but as the guards fall over themselves in their eagerness to answer him, I let them do the talking. Unfortunately, just hearing my family name isn’t enough to impress him. “Hmm,” his hummed response is apathetic, as is his reaction; after giving me a simple dip of his head in acknowledgement he then turns away to head into the castle.
Now clutching at straws, I desperately call out after him, “Wait! I’m Hoseok’s betrothed!”
That certainly grabs his attention. He swivels to face me, a smidgen of fascination apparent on his features that is still a little too drowsy-looking given the height of the sun in the sky. “As in Jung Hoseok, one of Jin’s commanders?”
Jin? I can only assume that the young man is referring to Lord Kim Seokjin, as that is whom Hoseok serves. Either way, my prospects are looking brighter now, so I answer in the affirmative. Satisfied, he motions for the guards to let me through, and beckons for me with a lazy hand. “Follow me.”
Taking rapid steps forward, I do as I am bid. Although I wouldn’t exactly call him hostile before, he is infinitely more friendly now. His wide lips are stretched into a smile that appears almost devilish from my perspective, but he makes sure to keep his pace slow enough so I can keep up with him. Which is no easy feat. This is my first time in the castle, and I can’t decide what to gawk at; the interior of the enormous building or the enigmatic man walking next to me. From the way his orders were instantly obeyed earlier, it’s clear that he is someone in the position of power, but just how much power is still unknown to me. There is also the creeping nervousness inside me at being led to one of the most important people in the country. Perhaps I should have had a speech prepared, because at this rate I may actually get tongue-tied once I get to meet him.
“So I’m assuming that you coming here has something to do with Hoseok?” The man probes languidly. Even his deep voice instills a relaxing sensation, soothing my nerves as I nod. Although I brace myself for more questions, it seems that he has sunk into his thoughts, and no more is forthcoming. Thankfully, the walk is relatively short, and he slides open a door to wave me inside before I can start to feel too awkward in the silence that ensues.
The large room is not only filled with people, but with papers and writing utensils as well. A serious air hangs about the space, broken when a mildly irritated voice says, “there you are, Taehyung. Where have you been? Yoongi got here ages ago.” The man who brought me in, Taehyung, only chuckles at the scolding of the person at the center of the gathering.
“I have some beautiful goddesses I needed to call upon,” he shrugs and makes his way to plop next to the man he’s addressing, revealing my presence to the room as I stay put not far from the entrance. The frowning man sighs loudly upon seeing me, turning to rebuke Taehyung again. “Not that I really care about who you’re seeing, but bringing one of your girls to a war council isn’t very amusing.”
Protest threatens to fly from my mouth at being referred to as one of Taehyung’s supposedly many girls, whoever they are, but he beats me to the chase. “As much as I’d love to be acquainted with such a determined, pretty lass, alas, I don’t know her. Hoseok may be able to help you out though.”
Taehyung’s comment shifts the attention of the other three men towards the person who has caught my eye the second I walked in. However, Hoseok doesn’t react, too preoccupied with gaping at me. It takes the man beside Taehyung to call his name again before he snaps out of his trance to answer. “Ah, yes, my lord. This is my bride-to-be.”
“I see.” The person Hoseok addresses as a lord now fixes his gaze upon me. This must be Kim Seokjin, one of the most powerful warlords, and the one who owns this land, as well as many others throughout the country. My saviour has to be Kim Taehyung, another formidable warlord and Seokjin’s ally. For such an influential person, Seokjin doesn’t appear to be all that intimidating. Especially when he’s smiling so kindly at me, the reception a complete opposite to the way he received Taehyung. I feel myself relax slightly under his gaze. He is extremely handsome, and I’m thankful that my heart already belongs to Hoseok because otherwise he may have the power to break it. I’m sure that a powerful man blessed with such gorgeous appearance is well equipped to capture the hearts of countless women, and I’d rather not be one of them. Hoseok is already popular enough for me to be worried over the amount of women throwing themselves at him. “What brings you here? It must be important for you to have come this far, so let’s hear it.”
He is being more accommodating that I could have ever dreamed, and the ease with which my very rough plan is proceeding is causing me to stumble over my words. I didn’t expect this to work out so well. Not that I’m complaining. “Right. Well. Hoseok and I are supposed to be married in three weeks, but with the war so close, it had to be postponed. Not that I’m resentful!” It’s hard to come up with the right words to convey my dilemma without potentially offending these people who are able to kill me — or worse, Hoseok — without having to answer to anyone. However, my anxiety amuses Seokjin, who offers me a gentle smile.
“I understand. War inconveniences everyone, so I plan to do my best to resolve it using as little time and resources as possible,” he assures me. “Hoseok will help me fight for the sake of a better future, I promise you.”
Of course I’m worried about the war, even if it isn’t my main concern at the moment. Seokjin’s assurances make me feel worlds better about having to let Hoseok go. Still, it doesn’t deter me from my mission. “Thank you for putting me at ease, my lord. However, the reason I’m here is to make a request. And it isn’t to ask you to let Hoseok stay behind. I fully comprehend the need for him to go.”
“Oh?” Seokjin’s delectable mouth forms an ‘o’ of surprise when I confirm that I’m not here to ask him what he’d expected of me. “Well then, state your request, and if it is within my power to grant it, I will gladly do so.”
Taking a deep breath, I announce to the room, “instead of postponing it, I’m hoping that you will permit us to marry before he goes.”
The thoughts that go on in Seokjin’s mind are plain to see as his expression changes from surprise, to a frown as he considers the consequences of my plea, then amusement as he assesses the woman in front of him. With a squeaky laugh that surprises me because I couldn’t have imagined such a childish sound to have come out of a refined man such as himself, he glances to Hoseok and says, “that’s quite a woman you have there, Hoseok.”
My husband-to-be, seemingly just as shocked as the other men in the room with the exception of Seokjin and Taehyung, the second of whom is only looking on with detached fascination, can only nod in agreement with his lord’s conclusion. Beside Taehyung, a disgruntled man narrows his eyes and grumbles, “how foolish. Do your parents even know you’re here? It’s dangerous for a woman like you to come here all the way on your own.”
“Now, Yoongi, don’t be so harsh on the girl,” Seokjin admonishes him quietly before addressing me again in a louder, though still even and calm voice, “Are you aware what you’re asking? Are you sure this is what you want?”
There is no doubt, and I told him as much. “This is what I want.”
“Then I don’t see any reason I shouldn’t comply with your request,” he readily agrees, but then turns to Hoseok, almost like an afterthought. “Are you agreeable to it, Hoseok?”
The shock on Hoseok’s face has now worn off to give way to a scowl. “I can’t say that I agree, my lord.”
I can’t believe my ears. Completely sure that he’d be happy with the arrangements I’ve thought out in my head, his disagreement comes as an unpleasant shock, like a bucket of ice water has been dumped on my head on a particularly cold winter day. However, I’m alone in my astonishment. Everyone else looks unaffected. Understanding, even. After shooting me a faintly concerned look, Seokjin asks Hoseok, in a lightly teasing tone, “could it be that you don’t want to marry her? Are you displeased with your parents’ choice?”
“No, that’s not it at all!” Hoseok disputes his claim indignantly. “I love her, but—“
“Well! That settles it, then,” Seokjin says gleefully, effectively cutting him off. Added to the realisation that he has confessed his feelings for me to the group of warlords, Hoseok is unable to utter another word, giving in to the blood rushing to his cheeks. I’m faring no better. Although still hurt that he opposed to the idea of marrying before going off to war, this is the first time he has said that he loves me. It really helps take away the sting of the earlier rejection, especially since it seems that Seokjin is going to approve of my request anyway and Hoseok isn’t putting up further objections.
Still, even with the outcome of my visit to the castle determined, an awkward silence follows the conclusion. Not belonging in this place, I start to feel uncomfortable, but I’m unsure if I can take my leave without being dismissed. Yoongi remarks sourly, “Taehyung and I didn’t come all this way to waste our time on frivolities. Get her to leave so we can continue our discussion.”
Although Yoongi’s words may have come off as a little hostile, I’m inwardly relieved that he voiced it. This time the man on the farthest right, who has remained quiet throughout the whole exchange, speaks. “Hoseok, see that she arrives safely home.” Hoseok gets to his feet without protest, asking the man, whom he calls Namjoon, to cover his part in the discussion as they have talked about beforehand.
I’m about to open my mouth to say that I can return just fine on my own, but a meaningful look from Seokjin makes me shut it again. With a low murmur of gratitude and an apology for interrupting such an important meeting, I let Hoseok lead me out. We remain in tense silence until the castle is a distance away from us. Only then he rounds on me, demanding to know why I asked for such a thing.
“The question is, why don’t you agree?” I counter, unable to keep the pain out of my voice. “I thought you feel as strongly about me as I do for you, but I guess I was wrong.”
My trembling lips, shaking from keeping the tears at bay, softens him. He places his hands on my shoulders, whirling me to face him. The words that he utters are heartfelt and sincere. “I wish the first time I said it was for your ears only, but I wasn’t lying back there. I love you. Of course I want to marry you. But not now. Not when there is no guarantee that I’ll make it back. This is not going to be just any battle. It’s a big, long war. I don’t know when I’ll return. If I do return.”
I’m starting to get a clearer idea of the reason behind his disagreement, but it doesn’t mean that I concur with his opinion. However, before I can refute him, he continues, “What if I die? I don’t want you to cry for me. I don’t want you to become a widow. Even if I can’t see it, I can’t stand the thought of you being sad. No matter what the cause. What if I return a maimed man? I want you to have the option of backing out of the marriage. A chance to change your mind. You should have a husband who is there, who is whole, who can make you happy.”
“And you don’t think you can make me happy?!” The amount of thought he has put in for my sake is touching, but it infuriates me how little value he gives himself. Furious, I hit his solid chest with my fists, although the meager force that I can muster is nothing to him, and he doesn’t budge. “I don’t know why you think I’m so eager to marry you, but it’s not because you’re a renowned samurai, or because you’re from a good family, or because you’re handsome. It isn’t anything like that at all. Hoseok, I love you. Of course I want you to come back safely, because I think I might need you more than my life, but even if you don’t, just being your wife, even if it’s for a short time, a second of that happiness with you is more valuable than a lifetime of never being yours. No one can make me as happy as you do.”
This is the second time of the day I’ve managed to surprise him, but with his recovery from the shock comes a beatific grin. Still he asks, “and what if I come back missing a limb? Or with a huge scar on my face?”
It’s hard for me to remain serious when his joy is so infectious, but I answer him as honestly as I can. “I’ll think that my husband is really great to have survived such a bloody war and return, looking all dashing with his battle scars.”
Hoseok’s bark of laughter at my response is full of unfiltered delight. “You’re really amazing. Now I don’t feel so stupid for falling in love with you so quickly.” Finally coming to an agreement, he takes my hand in his to walk me the rest of the way home. We part with him making me a promise to settle the matter between our families, and a sweeter one of making me as happy as he can in the limited amount of time we’ll have.
Unsurprisingly, I get a sound scolding from my parents when they learn of what I did, but ultimately I succeed in making the marriage happen before Hoseok is set to leave. Still, with three weeks’ worth of preparation having to be cramped into the one week that he has, the wedding can only be held the day before he goes. Even with only one night to spend with him, I don’t regret my decision. This is still what I want. Time passes with frightening speed, each second bringing me anticipating delight and fearful dread at the same time.
The trousseau that has been carefully put together for me since the day of my engagement is brought to Hoseok’s home on the joyful day. It pains me to have to leave my family, but my maid has been allowed to accompany me to my new home, so I take comfort in at least one familiar face. The wedding ceremony commences with family members in attendance. Even through my white silk headdress, it’s hard to keep my gaze down and away from my groom, who is looking stunning and dignified in his haori, the dark coat as well-made as the rest of his ceremonial clothing. The ritual drinking of sake is followed by my changing into the kosode robe presented by Hoseok.
Stiff and formal though the ceremony may have been, every single part of it feels like a dream. A wondrous ritual that binds me to Hoseok for life. No matter how long or short it may be. The war looms ever closer like a dark cloud over our first night together, but I try not to let it consume us, even if it means having to face the awkward silence as we sit next to each other on the futon, just the two of us, now officially man and wife.
“I can’t believe we’re here,” he murmurs quietly, as if finding himself next to me in his room something impossible to imagine. I can’t help giggling a little at that. How is it that he manages to make me feel comfortable even when I’m this nervous? Hoseok is truly a wonder.
“I can’t believe it either,” I echo his sentiments.
Since we’ve been left alone together, I’ve been having trouble meeting his eyes. Which is stupid of me, I know, since he’s going to ride off in the morning, and I have no place to be senselessly bashful now. However, I can’t hear anything except my own heartbeat drumming loudly in my ears. A deafening sound that finally comes to a halt when Hoseok lays his hand on top of mine.
Reflexively, I glance down to the spot where we’re connected, but he crooks a finger under my chin to tilt my head up. His dark gaze is intense, different from any other time before for a reason that escapes me. All I know is that just with one look, he’s threatening to melt me into a puddle of mush. “Hoseok,” I say his name in a whisper, afraid to break the spell he has cast between us.
His answer isn’t vocal. Moving to cup the side of my jaw in his large hand, he draws me closer to him, bending down to bring his lips to mine. The warmth that I’ve always felt him giving off radiates from his kiss as well, but this time it’s not the familiar comforting sensation that makes me feel safe. The heat pressing on me now is enticing, intimidating, fascinating me, raising fears of the unknown and excitement of exploring it with him. My breath catches, but he only tilts his head to the side to deepen the kiss, and I don’t protest. When the tip of his wet tongue slides across my lips, I gasp at the tingling sensation it causes, opening my mouth and inviting him inside to show me even better pleasures. Having him explore the inside of my mouth makes me moan and reach up to hold onto him. He responds by moving the hand on my cheek to cradle the back of my head and pressing his other on the small of my back, pulling me flush against him.
Being practically in his lap like this, I can feel the evidence of his arousal pressing against me at the edge of my hazy conscience. The realisation is making my body respond in a most delicious way. I want him. In ways that I haven’t thought of before. In ways that makes me unable to let him go. He lowers me down, but I bring him with me, refusing to loosen my hold on him. I can feel his hands traveling down my body, hear the rustle of fabric as he deftly unties the knots holding my clothes together. When we finally break the kiss, we’re both panting, and I’m laid bare before him, trying not to squirm under his predatory gaze.
Without thinking, I rub my legs together, trying to ease the longing I feel in the dampening junction, but Hoseok stops me by wedging his knee between them. I want to tell him off for it but my words are lost to my gasps and moans as his mouth blaze a trail from my neck, following my collarbone down to my breasts. Sucking and nipping on the tender flesh, he reduces me to a pliant mess underneath him, making me want him more and more. When he closes his mouth on one of my nipples, his tongue lapping and swirling around the sensitive tip, he sends jolts all over my body.
I’m powerless to do anything but pant and cry out for him, when he’s lightly pinching my other nipple with his fingers, rolling it around his digits while his other hand reaches down between my legs. It doesn’t take much prowling and teasing against my folds for me to hear the wet sounds that his wicked fingers is drawing from my pussy. Hoseok is stoking my arousal with ease and he’s threatening to shove me off the edge when he leaves my chest to shift his focus lower down my body.
When I feel his tongue licking a strip up my slit, I know that I’m not likely to survive the night. The combination of his mouth and fingers is lethal. It’s driving me crazy, but I can’t seem to summon the strength to tell him to stop. No, judging by the way I’m tugging at his hair and shoving my hips into his face, I’m actually showing him I want more. I want him to continue slamming his fingers inside me. I want him to suck on my clit. I want him to pull me up to a high then push me off the cliff, listening to me scream his name as I come undone. I can feel rather than see his smirk against me as he laps up my overflowing juices, but I don’t care. As for this night, I am his, completely Hoseok’s, and he can do whatever he wants with me. If I’m blessed with more nights after this, I’m more than willing to be subject to this sweet torture again.
“You’re drenched,” he growls as he pulls his robes apart. Even in my hazy post-orgasmic state, I can’t help but admire his body. Rather than menacing bulk, Hoseok is lithe, all supple muscle, his beautiful figure formed over years of hard training. I can see now why his fighting style is considered an art. Any way that he moves can’t be anything but graceful and dignified. My pulse races again at the sight, at the thought of what the rest of the night has in store for me, at the fact that this gorgeous man is actually my husband. It only makes the need inside me, so recently sated, stir with desire again. “So ready for me,” he says smugly. A part of me is a little embarrassed, but I’d much rather let him know how easily he makes me hot, how much I want him than shy away. So I nod my head with a shy smile that is contrasting with the lifting of my arms out to call him to me.
Hoseok is nothing but obliging, leaning down to let me wrap my arms around him, catching my lips with his as he covers my body with own. My squeak of surprise when the tip of his cock presses against my entrance is swallowed into his mouth, and he only increases the pressure against my slick pussy, a wordless request for access. With my mouth fully occupied, I give him my ‘yes’ by circling my legs around his waist, pushing the very end of his cock inside me. Just that is enough to make him groan against my lips. Wanting to hear the sound again more than I need to breathe, I press the heels of my feet even harder on his back.
Slowly but surely he sinks deeper and deeper inside me. The burn of my walls stretching to make way for his girth is a little painful, but the pleasure makes up for it in spades. It seems to go on forever, and I wish that it would, but eventually he stops to ask, “Are you all right?”
“It depends on what you consider all right,” I say breathlessly. “If you mean being unaffected by feeling so full that I might burst and go completely crazy, then no, I’m not. But if all right means feeling so unbelievably good and wanting more, then yes, I’ve never been better.”
Each lilt of his blissful chuckle is another flower blooming in the garden he is cultivating in my heart. I can’t laugh though, not when he starts moving. Slowly at first, then building in pace and intensity. It’s reassuring to know that he is nowhere as composed as I thought he was, if the speed at which he changes gears from deliberate to frantically pounding me into the bedding is any indication. In fact, only the potent lust in his eyes can hope to match the movement of his hips, the look that he’s piercing me with threatening to make me combust right then and there. Holding on to his muscular upper arms just isn’t enough to keep me from sliding up the futon with every thrust, just as it isn’t anywhere near enough for me to stave off my impending orgasm.
“Hoseok,” I whimper brokenly, unable to stop my legs from shaking even as they’re wrapped tightly around him. Stuck between knowing that the pleasure is too much to bear and not wanting it to end, without thinking, I act on instinct and bite down on his shoulder. I have no idea if his strained snarl of my name is due to my teeth sinking into his flesh or the tightening of my walls around him as I shatter underneath him, but it’s enough to get him push his last few powerful thrusts before exploding inside me.
The way he collapses on top of me yet still holds himself up just enough so he doesn’t crush me under his weight makes him all the more endearing to me. Maybe it’s the post-coital bliss, but my entire being is full of love for Hoseok. Although can it be called that when I’m still quivering from his love-making?
“You’re trembling,” he points out the obvious, and a furious blush creeps up my cheeks at how plain his effect on me is.
“You don’t have to tell me that!” I tell him off with a light smack to his chest. The wet slapping sound that my palm makes upon impact with the sweaty surface just reminds me of how fiercely he was pumping into me a moment ago.
There he goes, letting out a laugh that tugs on my heartstrings again. “You’re really cute.”
“I’m embarrassed enough without you saying that,” I mumble, secretly happy with his words.
But he isn’t done yet. “You’re beautiful.”
“Stop it,” I say, but there’s no hiding my smile now.
“What can I say then? You’re stopping me from saying everything I’m feeling right now,” he teases, drawing a giggle out of me. His compliments make me lighthearted and bashful at the same time, so the only response I can come up with is a radiant smile and a shrug as I reach up to run my fingers in his soft hair lovingly. “Well, there’s only one thing left for me to tell you, anyway.”
“What is it?” I can’t help asking, my interest piqued.
He grins down at me, mischievous and gentle at the same time. “I love you.”
My laughter at that is probably one of my happiest yet. “I don’t mind hearing that.” To show just how content I am with that particular confession, my fingers tighten in his hair, careful not to hurt him, but with enough force to pull him down so I can kiss him again.
I don’t know how much time has passed before we have to surface for air again, but it’s enough to leave my lips tingling, deliciously swollen. The satiated amber of Hoseok’s eyes have been reignited to molten lava again, burning into mine as he asks, “can we do it again?”
“Fine, but it’s my turn this time.” Filled with determination, I press my palms against his hard chest, pushing him off of me so we can switch positions. The ease of which I succeed in doing so is probably thanks to him not expecting the move. However he doesn’t mind. In fact, he finds it hilarious, until I get my hand wrapped around his half-erect dick, turning his chortle into a needy groan. His reaction bolsters my confidence, helping me shed my inhibitions to crawl down, following a path of kisses and licks along his chest, his toned stomach, to his erection.
A glimpse up at his face shows me one full of anticipation and desire. I want to make him feel as good as he made me feel. So, without hesitation, I go down on him like he did for me earlier. His sharp intake of breath when I twirl my tongue over the head before plunging towards his stomach tells me that I’m going in the right direction. Finding it impossible to swallow his whole length, I grip the base with my right hand to make up for what my mouth can’t take. His taste, his smell, the noises that he’s making is more intoxicating than any alcohol. He’s getting me riled up again without even touching me. I’d complain about the unfairness of it all had my mouth been free to talk.
As though he can sense my needs, he sits up then drags my body sideways so he can utilise his fingers to torment me. I keep sucking on him tenaciously without pausing, not wanting to be outdone, but it’s hard to keep my head bobbing up and down his shaft when he inserts two fingers inside me. My moan of his name reverberates around his cock, making him groan but not enough to stop him from fingering my pussy. This time he knows he isn’t going to win the race to the finish line, as he pulls me off of him just as the tightening sensation in my belly is about to begin.
“You’re going to be the death of me,” he mutters under his breath before he can lose it in the kiss he pulls me into. Somehow he manages to let me go long enough to inquire, “did it feel good?”
“It still does,” I moan passionately, wanting nothing more than to let him know how much I’d loved it. “So you don’t need to hold yourself back. You make me feel incredible, Hoseok.”
“As long as you let yourself go completely,” he promises. Keeping me steady by gripping my sides, he lowers me down onto his lap. Onto his engorged member. Pushing any coherent thought out of my head. Bringing me to new heights as he helps me impale myself on him again and again, amplifying the pleasure even more when he dips his head to my bouncing breasts, nibbling and sucking harder than before. One after another he leaves his marks on me, like red welting flowers all over my chest.
Heeding his command, I let myself go fully. The unreserved me leaves marks on my own by raking my nails along his chest, making him hiss with ravenous passion. “I need more,” he declares darkly, not letting me have a word in edgewise as he hauls me off of him, putting me on all fours facing away from him without much effort. Not even giving me the chance to complain about the indignity of the position, he plunges into me from the back. Just like that, any protest on the tip of my tongue is overridden by the whines that only increase in volume and frequency as he rams himself into me, harder and faster than before.
Every vicious thrust forces a grunt from my lips now, but I’m helpless against the assault beyond digging my fists into the bedding and moving my hips to meet his. Loud slaps echo throughout the room, so loud that they may even rival the moans that the two of us are making. His movements are ferocious, almost brutal, each one hitting deep inside me. My arms give out from the sheer force of him pounding into me, and he follows me down, running his tongue up my spine then settling on the side of my face to suck and bite on my earlobe as I whimper and beg him not to stop, that he has once again brought me to the edge.
He knows it too, the taut sensation inside my lower stomach reflecting on my tightening pussy on his cock, giving more friction to his thrusts yet making them all the more pleasurable. The sensation is a catalyst to his orgasm as well, I can tell by his bruising grip on my waist as I burst into a million pieces underneath him. Calling for me, the last few times he pounds into me are mind-blowing, causing me to scream his name while he releases inside me again.
His hunger for me cannot be satisfied, it seems. Not for long. I’m not sure if he even has a limit. I don’t know how long I succumb to sleep after that, but the next time I open my eyes, the night outside is still inky black. My bleary eyes need some time to adjust in the dim light, and when they come to focus, I see that Hoseok is still awake, watching me with a contented smile as he brushes my hair with his fingers tenderly.
“You should sleep,” I reprimand him groggily. It’s fine for me to be sleep deprived, but not for him. However, he’s stubborn, set on drinking in as much of me as he can tonight.
“We only have this one night together to last us for a while. I want to make it count,” he says with a kiss, then tells me to go back to sleep. But how can I, when I know I’m going to miss him just as much as he’ll miss me? More importantly, how can I return to slumber after he’d kissed me like that?
In the end we only got to sleep a scant few hours that night. Not that I can bring myself to mind it very much. Not when my pussy is still throbbing, my legs can’t stop shaking, I can hardly walk and my body has served as his canvas to leave his beautiful red and purple bruises. “Are you sure you’ll be fine with so little sleep?” I ask him worriedly as he prepares his horse, already clad in battle armour. To be honest, he doesn’t look tired at all. He actually looks peppy and really gallant dressed like this.
“Without a doubt. If I get drowsy I can always sneak in a nap on my horse.” As much as I’m concerned about the safety in doing so, I know it’s the least of my worries. There’s no help for it now anyway, so I only nod, a torrent of tears threatening to break from the confines at him leaving. Trust Hoseok to notice it right away, coming over to draw me into his embrace and press his forehead against mine, much like he did that night he first sneaked into my parents’ house. It feels so long ago, like the memories of a dream that is escaping from grasp. “Do you regret marrying me now?”
The question is soft and sprinkled with a touch of fear. One that I’m always happy to shoot into the mud. “No, I don’t. And I never will,” I say with conviction, keeping my gaze up and locked on his. “In one day, you’ve made me happier than I’ve felt my whole life. This one day will keep me strong no matter what happens.”
“You have no idea how glad I am to hear you say that.” He seems more assured now, and it sets my mind at ease. This is something that we can’t run away from. However, his happiness, next to my own, is all that matters to me. “I promise to do whatever it takes to return to you, so you will never have to shed another tear.” His thumbs wipe away the tears I haven’t even noticed are spilling down my cheeks. “I was always ready to die serving my lord and the people I’ve set out to protect. But now I have a stronger reason to fight with everything I have. If I die, I will die to keep you safe, because your purpose is to live. I don’t want just that though. I want to come back to you, so I can protect you, right by your side.” I nod, not trusting my voice. But I trust Hoseok with all my heart. He will come back. I know he will.
It is with this unwavering belief that I keep myself strong in the long days and weeks that follows. Not a day passes that I fail to think about him. Life without Hoseok is as barren as the wintry trees, but I refuse to cry. I know he doesn’t want me to wallow in sorrow, so I continue living as he wants, settling in my life in my new home, where I’m treated well by my new family. The short time that Hoseok and I have been blessed with is my comfort. Countless times I have to come to terms with the fact that it may have to be enough to carry my life through.
Still I wait for him, my faith for him never faltering. The scratches, red and purple marks he left all over my body slowly fade and disappear, but he still hasn’t returned. Harsh winds have mellowed out into pleasant breezes, softly coloured buds have started flowering when news that we have won the long war reaches the town. Not long after, the people are given more reason to rejoice as Seokjin and the first of the soldiers arrive, slowly trickling into the town in glory to return to their homes. My patience is wearing thin as I wait impatiently for my husband, but each day passes with no news of him, only more disappointment and fear. Even his mother, who has been my company as I await his return, now sits in the comfort of the house, the weather still too cold for a woman her age to stand for too long. Alone, I stand at the gate as expectantly as ever, refusing to believe that Hoseok has done as horrid a thing as perish after he’d promised me to do whatever it takes to return to me.
So I watch in silence as a straggle of soldiers walk past, some with the help of other men. This group have suffered heavier damage compared to the ones that have returned earlier. It’s probably the reason why they’ve taken this long to make their way back. The thought of a seriously injured Hoseok makes me heavy with dread, but I steel myself for the possibility, knowing that this is probably the last group to arrive, and no more will be coming. Then I see it.
Hoseok’s magnificent stallion, galloping towards me at top speed. He is a striking vision, riding furiously amongst the light pink flower petals falling gently onto the ground. Elated laughter spills unbidden from my lips as I step aside to avoid being trampled. He pulls his horse to an abrupt stop, shaking dust into the air, but neither of us care. Jumping off, he grabs me and lifts me up, making me squeal giddily, then sets me down to press his lips to mine. The force behind them conveys the extent of his love for me, how much he has missed me while he was gone, how glad he is to see me, and I respond in kind. He explains that he remained with the injured soldiers to ensure their safety on their way back. The group moved more slowly than the rest owing to the injuries, which is why he arrived late. I can accept his reason, but I’m not satisfied until I look over him myself, and after several attempts to convince me that he is unharmed, he gives in to my inspection.
True to his word, other than a few scratches, he is perfectly fine. It’s more than I can ever hope for, and I start to weep openly as the reality of his return sinks in.
“I came back so you wouldn’t cry, you know,” he chides gently, but I can see that his eyes are also damp through my blurry vision.
“I’m crying because I’m ecstatic that you’ve come back alive,” I argue through my sobs. “I’ve always believed that you will, but I can’t stop myself.”
My confession makes him sigh in relief and happiness, and he hugs me tightly, showering me with kisses. Long and lonely nights without Hoseok may come again, bringing a chill worse than winter, but it’s all worth it when I can look forward to being enveloped in his warmth again.
Did you enjoy this story? If yes, check out the accompanying birthday stories!
[1] He Left (Hoseok) [2] He Stole (Yoongi) [3] He Lied (Jungkook) [4] He Shot (Namjoon)  [5] He Fell (Jimin)  [6] He Loved (Seokjin)  [7] He Decided (Taehyung) 
Japanese terms:
Kimono: Traditional Japanese clothing Obi: Sash for Japanese clothing Daimyo: Japanese feudal lord Haori: Traditional Japanese jacket Sake: Japanese rice wine Kosode: Japanese robe Futon: Japanese traditional bedding
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THE HITCHHIKER’S GUIDE TO THE GALAXY by Douglas Adams
Referenced in the MV for J-Hope’s Daydream* (starts at 2:14)
Summary from Goodreads:
“Seconds before the Earth is demolished to make way for a galactic freeway, Arthur Dent is plucked off the planet by his friend Ford Prefect, a researcher for the revised edition of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy who, for the last fifteen years, has been posing as an out-of-work actor. Together this dynamic pair begin a journey through space aided by quotes from The Hitchhiker's Guide ("A towel is about the most massively useful thing an interstellar hitchhiker can have") and a galaxy-full of fellow travelers: Zaphod Beeblebrox—the two-headed, three-armed ex-hippie and totally out-to-lunch president of the galaxy; Trillian, Zaphod's girlfriend (formally Tricia McMillan), whom Arthur tried to pick up at a cocktail party once upon a time zone; Marvin, a paranoid, brilliant, and chronically depressed robot; Veet Voojagig, a former graduate student who is obsessed with the disappearance of all the ballpoint pens he bought over the years.”
*In the MV, JHope receives a call from ‘Arthur’ and when he accepts it, “Don’t Panic!” appears on the screen.
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jeonggukingdom · 5 years
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dick on the go (m)
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❖ Pairing:  Taehyung x Reader 
❖ Genre: Smut, Fluff, Crack 
❖ Summary:  It was all shits and giggles when you and Taehyung were desperate seniors in High School, having no idea what to do with your lives, wondering if you’d ever find a decent job or even graduate in the first place. It is not so funny anymore when you come home from the big city to enjoy your vacation time and you find his sex-shop right in front of the house you grew up in when you were a kid. “If nothing works out I’m just gonna open a sex shop and call it something obnoxious like ‘Dick on the Go’ or something with a stupid zucchini logo flashing on top of the building.” He had said one time. Shit, you had no idea he actually meant it. ❖ Word Count: 20.752 words
❖ WARNINGS: graphic depictions of sexual intercourse, cuss words, masturbation, oral (giving/receiving), rough sex, daddy kink, use of several toys, hair pulling, a drop of orgasm denial, unprotected sex, very subtle degradation.
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You take a deep breath, your gaze fixed on the familiar scenery outside the train’s window, and it almost feels like your insides are unclenching and relishing in the feeling of being free after so many months lived squished together.
You have made this journey back and forth hundred times in the past five years or so and you know every inch of the road by memory but it doesn’t hinder its healing effects on both your body and mind.
The ride is a couple of hours long but you do enjoy every last bit of it, at least when it’s bringing you back home.
Your home is more than just a place with four walls and a roof on top, no, home is your roots an, ultimately, that inner part of you, the true self you are forced to hide under fake masks to survive in the city.
Big cities can be beautiful, definitely entertaining and fun to go to because they offer so many possibilities but they also require for you to have a shield around your heart, a persona to protect your inner and most delicate self for there is no space for peculiarity among thousands and thousands of similar-looking people. You are simply a part of the mass that nobody would recognize or even care to.
There was a time when you felt like a big fish in a very small pond but after living in the city for such a long time you came to realize you are nothing but a very tiny drop into the endless sea. Insignificant, quickly replaceable and definitely not that unique.
In your hometown, there are many that envy your work, your reputation and there are many more that strive to arrive where you did, to leave the countryside and become a person of the city.
It’s not that you hate the city per-say, you wouldn’t live there if that were to be the case, but in your far smaller hometown it feels like you can breathe again as if you were holding your breath for a long time without even realizing it.
Every mile the train eats with its speed is one step closer to freedom and Lord knows how much you have missed this feeling.
The day is coming to an end when you finally arrive at the train station, sky tinted in bright hues of orange and pink, and you breathe in loudly, closing your eyes in the process. The countryside’s air beats the city’s one hands down.
You drag your suitcase behind your back, instantly regretting putting so much stuff in there when you’re going to stay for only a week but, in your defense, it is something you have picked up in the big city. Always be prepared for every occasion, they taught you and, some habits, honestly, are hard to vanquish.
A taxi is not something hard to find outside the train station and you feel an exhilarating excitement when you realize you won’t have to launch yourself inside a cab and you also won’t have to argue with somebody else to take their seat or keep yours and, honestly, it’s a mother-fucking-dream.
The little city tour on the cab is a classic when you come back and it’s not like you don’t have people that would come to pick you up if you asked.
But on a cab, you can ask a stranger to take the longer route and they wouldn’t care too much about it, especially when they can get more money out of it. It is stupid, there is no doubt about it, but you miss the neighborhoods you used to walk by every day, you miss your favorite shops and even the outline of your High School in the middle of the city.
The street that leads to your house is quiet and it’s a stark contrast with the crowd and loudness you are used to experiencing in front of your apartment building down to the big city and, even that desolation is something you have utterly missed. Some well deserved peace, at last.
The driver leaves you a few houses down your own, complying with your request, and you stretch your arms widely, a smile plastered on your lips.
Despite the heavy bag behind your back, you walk serenely on the sidewalk, enjoying the warm air that caresses your face and relish in the familiar sight of the houses you have known for all your life.
You have walked these steps thousands of times, hell, you have run on this street hundreds of times to sneak out of your room at night or even to sneak back in before you were caught.
So many good memories. Yes, all of them. You have found out later in life that even those embarrassing moments, even the ones you wanted to forget with all your might when you were younger they have all turned into memories you cherish deeply within your heart because, whether they were bad or really good, they still shaped you in who you are today and they all belong to a time of your life that was far more simple than your adult one.
You are almost out of breath when you reach your front yard, your suitcase lying at your side in all its heaviness and you take a moment to breathe back in and look around and familiarize back with the houses you have frequented a ton of times as a kid.
Your gaze crosses the street and a smile stretches on your lips as it stills on the house of your best friend since middle school.
Oh, what a short-lived smile yours is when you finally register the change at the other side of the road.
Right across from your eyes there is a house but it is not the one you have known your whole life, oh no. This building is new and that would be almost interesting if it weren’t for the neon logo shining above its white walls.
 Finals were close, almost too close actually, and you were cramming like crazy, sprawled on the floor of your bedroom with the hope that the discomfort your body was in would keep you awake and focused enough for you to keep on studying.
Your best friend, Taehyung, was lying much more comfortably on your bed, loudly playing video-games on his phone.
“You should study too, you know?” You reprimanded, cringing at the way you sounded just like your mother, and he whined like a little kid would have, slightly pouting in your general direction.
“I don’t wanna.”
“Well, you gotta! What if we fail all of our exams and we don’t get to graduate? And what if we do graduate but not a single University wants us? And what if we can’t get a decent job or even a job to being with?”
You felt your lungs constrict at all the bad scenarios playing in your head like a bad omen.
“God, you’re stressing me out,” he groaned out, not even bothering to look at you, eyes still pretty glued over his phone screen.
“That’s because you should? Like everyone else? How are you so freaking calm?!”
You closed your book a little bit to forcefully and literally flung yourself on your bed, right next to him to take a peek at the game he was playing.
“Well, I have a backup plan, that’s why.”
“What backup plan?”
You could swear to God it was your first time hearing the existence of a backup plan and it almost made you feel stupid for not having one as well.
“If nothing works out I’ll probably just mop floors at Starbucks for a couple of years, just enough for me to have some money and open up my own shop.”
“Your own shop?” Oh, how that stung your heart. Not because it was a dream of yours but because you hadn’t known he wanted one for himself? You genuinely thought you knew everything about Kim Taehyung. Well, maybe because he knew everything about you.
“Yeah, if nothing works out I’m just gonna open a sex shop and call it something obnoxious like ‘Dick on the Go’ or something with a stupid zucchini logo flashing on top of the building.” He put the phone down and raised his eyebrows at you, fighting hard not to laugh in your face.
“Oh my fucking God!” You threw your cushion on his nose, making him yelp in surprise before starting laughing at you and your rage while simultaneously trying to defend himself and pin you down on the mattress.
“Jokes on me for trying to have a serious conversation with bloody Kim Taehyung!”
You hissed, trapped under his far stronger hands but, truthfully, that was just the beginning of an endless afternoon spent doing anything but study.
Fighting with cushions and call each other silly names was the outcome of one of your last days together as seniors in High School and for a very long time, you considered that day to be one of the happiest of your life as a teenager.
 Your mouth is agape and you realize how silly you must look standing there, looking like you just saw a ghost or something far more horrifying, but you find yourself incapable of moving a single muscle while still in the process of realizing what you are looking at.
A green zucchini intermittently flashes before you, topped by a blue fixed writing that reads ‘Dick on the Go’ in a fancy calligraphy font.
All the stillness of your body washes out in an instant, subdued by utter rage.
“Fucking Kim Taehyung!” you shriek out loud, stomping your feet on the ground like a goddamn kid, and you find yourself crossing the street in an instant, your luggage is already forgotten. It is a mistake you would never make in the big city where thieves lurk in the dark every second of the day, waiting for a little distraction to steal anything they can from you, even your undergarments if they can reach far enough.
Oh, the beauty of a chill countryside, you’d think when finding your belongings still there later that day but, in the current moment, all thoughts that don’t contemplate murdering your best friend are inconsequential.
You stomp on the concrete floor with the grace of a bull in a china shop and only come to a halt when you are facing the closed door of the shop.
Of course, working hours have come to an end with the end of the day and you are about to give up and move on to plan B — which would include screaming your lungs out to him over the phone while you walk to reach his house and wrap your hands around his neck — when you notice a cardboard sheet hanging from the door.
It looks utterly obnoxious and made by a five-year-old with a passion for pink, purple and Barbies but the little penises designed around it turn it utterly disturbing.
‘Ring to the back entrance’ it reads and oh, you motherfucking will.
You walk around the house, your vision turned red by fury and anyone close enough to see the look on your face would realize you are out for blood.
You stop in front of a small door tinted in a bright fuchsia color and you impatiently ring the bell, feet stomping on the ground as you struggle to keep your rage at bay until the catalyst of it all shows up at the door.
He does, in fact, show up but all words are trapped in your throat the moment you realize he is dressed in nothing but a white bathrobe.
“Oh! ______, I didn’t know you were coming!” He says, smiling one of his dazzling smiles that would usually fool you but that now makes you even more baffled because he doesn’t seem at all fazed by his lack of proper clothing.
“What the hell is going on here? I thought you were still working at Starbucks?” You finally ask, though far more quietly than you first intended it to be.
“Oh, yeah, I didn’t tell you about this,” he gestures to the building with a glint of pride in both his mannerism and his voice, “I wanted it to be a surprise.”
“Oh, you most definitely succeeded,” you mutter to yourself as he ushers you inside the shop.
You are suddenly made aware of the loud music playing inside of it and as you follow him behind a curtain you realize the shop isn’t just a shop. It’s a bloody nightclub.
The floors are black and the lights are a pretty shade of pink, lighting up a stage where models stand in their flimsy underwear and you feel like gagging on your own breath because you weren’t ready at all for the spectacle before your very eyes.
“I’m very sorry I have to leave you like this but I have a show to host tonight!”
Taehyung half-shouts in your ears and you are about to retort something or, rather, you’re about to ask him a gazillions questions but he disappears before you can even stop him and oh-my-God-what-in-the-world-is-he-doing? Is your next thought as you watch him take off his robe to stand on the stage in nothing but a flimsy thong that conceals pretty much nothing at all and yes, Taehyung is handsome, he has always been, but he’s like a brother to you and now you want to pull your motherfucking eyes out of their sockets and forget you have ever seen any of this.
His voice booms through the small club, amplified by the microphone, and the small crowd cheers loudly for him.
You only then realize that many of these people, both men and women, you actually know and, Lord, why can’t the ground just swallow you whole right now so that you can pretend in the morning that this was all just a really weird dream?
The music gets louder in your ears and you start to fear it may turn you deaf at this rate but you have no time to indulge in the thought before Taehyung starts introducing the ‘items’, as he so lovely introduced them, exhibited on the stage.
What you thought to be a club turns out to be a place where he shows off the most recent acquires of his shop and, despite the line of work, you do have to admit that it is rather genius, especially when the product is hanging nicely on the body of hot models, not even you can resist from goggling at.
A pretty girl with skin white as ivory and hair dark as coal is elegantly walking on the stage in a black laced bust that has everything covered but what it’s supposed to cover. Her breasts look nice, granted, framed in lace and nips covered by two little dots of black but it makes you feel wildly conscious of the way your body would look in that tiny little thing and it’s a thought you’d rather avoid dwelling on to.
The next model is a tall man, all muscles and tan skin, and you try with all your might to look away from him but you find it impossible to do when he’s dressed in nothing but a few strings of leather, shaped to look like a harness, and his member is barely concealed by his own hand. He looks like a Greek statue and you find yourself almost drooling over the nice shape of his ass but that’s before your eyes land on his balls, so out in the open it makes your cheeks feel as warm as a thousand suns.
You watch almost the entirety of the show, unable to look away from any of it but you do draw the line once he presents the newest sex toy of the month: “the magic tongue.”
With dread you watch the spectators come closer to the stage to watch the little item with wild curiosity and a shiver runs down your spine not because sex toys are something you have never seen, or tried, but because you have no idea how you will be able to look any of these people in the eyes after tonight without thinking back to this very moment.
Taehyung’s voice, the booming music and the faint chit-chat of people all mix together in a cacophony of sounds you are more than happy to tune out while focusing your eyes on the walls behind your back, finally noticing how big this place must be to not only be a shop in the front, but also some sort of club in the back.
A hand comes in touch with your shoulder and you jump on the spot, turning around with your fists turned up high because that’s another amazing lesson the city has taught you but, obviously, it is not a threat but just a very confused Taehyung that is facing you.
“Woah, calm down, what is it with the fists?”
“Sorry, it’s a habit,” you reply, blood rushing to your face and turning it feverish to the touch.
He decides not to comment on your words but he can’t hide the flick of concern inside his eyes and your heart warms up for it but, of course, it is not even remotely enough to quench your anger.
“We should probably go somewhere quieter so we can talk,” he says, instead, and you nod your head in agreement while trying to ignore the sounds of excitement coming from what you suppose you could call dance floor.
“Ok, wait for me in front of the shop’s door, I’ll be there in a second.”
“I swear to God Taehyung if you turn right n-” your words get stuck in your throat as he does precisely what you asked him not to do and your eyes inevitably gaze down to the exposed curve of his ass and, awfully, to his sack.
Your hands fly to your face to cover your eyes while you groan out loud, wishing you could pour acid in those eyeballs and remove the memory from your consciousness.
“Ah, so dramatic,” he says, chuckling, “It’s just an ass, plus, you know I have a fine one.”
You peek through your open fingers just in time to watch him loudly smack his own bottom cheeks and you struggle not to gag at the image forever printed inside your brain.
“I hope you realize you just scarred me for life!”
He laughs loudly at your words but does not stop walking down the corridor that has led you to the club but, this time, he’s following the opposite direction and you wonder why he just didn’t let you tag along up to the shop.
Either way, you do not question it too much and when you hear a woman shriek loudly in excitement inside the club you take it as your cue and leave the place with fast steps.
The air feels nice again on your hot skin and you take a few moments to breathe in loudly in the vain attempt to process all that has happened in the span of less than thirty minutes since your return.
Your steps feel heavy as you walk back to the front door, the number of questions swirling in your mind increasing with each passing second.
The door flies open the moment you arrive in front of it and it’s with utter relief that you notice your best friend is now dressed in a simple black tracksuit like any other normal person out there.
He welcomes you with one of his infamous rectangular smiles and you inevitably feel your heart soften for it, your anger dissipating slowly the more you look at it. It’s like looking at the sun after being stuck in the rain for months and you kind of hate him for it. Kim Taehyung is a bloody ray of sunshine and he has always had this power over you and your emotions and, rumors say nobody can really stay mad at him for a very long time. And you most definitely fit in the rumor.
You follow him inside the shop and it takes a lot of self-preservation to not glance around the many items on the shelves, right at the corners of your eyes.
It is not like you have never seen a sex toy, or try to use one for that matter, but there is something about being in a sexy shop with your best friend that unsettles you. You had never thought you’d grow up to be a prude, honestly, but evidently, you had been wrong because everything about this situation makes you uncomfortable to a whole new level.
“No more moping the floors, uh?” You say to break off the silence and he chuckles, gesturing at his shop with so much pride you almost feel compelled to compliment him on it.
“I told you I had a backup plan, didn’t I?” He asks and there is mirth in both his eyes and the curve of his lips and you feel the anger seep back in through your bones.
“Yeah, when we were two stupid kids about to graduate.”
Your voice tone comes out harsher than you intend it to be and it successfully wipes away the smile from Taehyung’s features and you feel a pang of guilt within your heart over it.
Kim Taehyung has always been the type to do whatever he wants despite what people think but he has also always been the type that can be easily hurt but people’s words and their expectations of him. It must be like a knife cutting through his skin for you to turn into just another person that does not understand him nor support him.
“Well, yeah, we were kids and probably very stupid but this idea, this... project is probably one of the best things I ever thought of,” his eyes narrow on you as you shake your head, finally taking a glance over the shop.
It is big and full of all the things you would want from a sexy shop. The floor and walls are painted black but the shelves are a nice neon pink that makes the toys pop out even more and you would never admit it out loud but it does look quite good.
“A sexy shop, Taehyung.” You say, your voice still cutting through his skin and you sadly watch him trouble his bottom lip whilst looking for the right words.
“So what? It’s still a business... a quite good one if I dare say so myself.”
“Oh, you mean with all the horny women in the back drooling over your models or, worse, your naked ass?”
There is something about your words that seems to flare him up, strike a hot spot and start the flames of a raging fire within his heart.
“Seriously, ______, when was the last time you didn’t have a stick up your ass?”
Your mouth opens to retort something witty and intelligent but the words seem to be stuck in your throat for a bit too long and you have to close it again, letting silence fall between you two.
“Why in front of my house, though? Like, it’s not even in the center of the city or around other shops?”
“Ah, I see, that’s what’s bothering you?” He tilts his head to the side and scoffs, incredulity written all over his face.
“Well, I have been moping floors for years now and yes, I did save up a nice amount of money but not enough for me to be picky so I’m sorry if my little shop here offends your...” he fixes his gaze over the tenseness of your body and the way you tap nervously on the floor, looking for the right word to describe you, “Prudery.”
“I’m not a prude Taehyung, it’s just weird to me, ok? I never thought you meant to actually open a sexy shop, especially not with that obnoxious name and you can’t get offended by that because it’s exactly how you defined it yourself back then,” you point a finger up to his chest and a small smile appears back on his features, “And I didn’t expect it to be right in front of the house I grew up in, we grew up in and I most definitely did not expect to see your balls out and about tonight, thank you very much for the horrific memory, by the way.”
By the time you end your speech, he is laughing and you can’t help but laugh with him too because it all still feels so surreal you could wake up any time now and realize it was all just a weird-ass dream.
“Well, when you put it like that,” he concedes but he smirks slightly and it makes you shiver because you know oh-too-well that glint in his eyes and you don’t like it in the least.
“When was the last time you had a good fuck, though?”
“Excuse me?” You try to ignore the way your cheeks seem to catch on fire as blood rushes all to your head because oh, that struck a nerve.
“You look so tense and on edge...” He continues, tilting his head to the side as to study you further, “In my experience, that’s a giving sign of sexual frustration.”
“Oh my fucking God I’m going to murder your sorry ass,” you growl and launch yourself at him just like you used to when you were both kids that relished in pissing off each other.
“Oh come on, ______, I’ve known you since you were like, five, you don’t need to be embarrassed!”
He is laughing as you try to strangle him, very unimpressed by your physical strength.
There had been a time when you had been stronger than him but those days are long over now that he is a grown man that also happened to discover the existence of a gym.
“Seriously, though, you should really loosen up a bit, you’re like in constant rage mode.”
You growl at him, almost wishing your nails were long and pointy like the ones you see every girl in the city sporting and a part of you now understands why. Oh, you’d definitely put them to good use right now.
“Ok, fine, fine! I won’t mention your sexual life or lack thereof anymore, I promise.”
You side-eye him but still let go of his shirt and he exhales loudly, taking a curious look around the room.
“But,” he starts and you scoff at him, ready to assault him anew if he decides to push your boundaries again, “I gifted something to all my friends so I don’t see why you should make an exception.”
There it is again, the little sting. His friends, the ones that knew about this, the ones that probably helped him and cheered him up. The ones that were there when he finally opened the shop and the ones that were there to congratulate him.
It makes you think a lot whether it was really because he wanted to surprise you or because he knew you’d react like this once you found out.
“You can pick anything you want from the shelves, it’s all on me.”
“What? You want me to pick a sex toy?” You ask, bewildered as he motions through the shelves, encouraging you to take a look.
“Well, that’s what I sell so I don’t see why not.”
You scoff and shake your head and this time it is not because of your so-called prudery but because you know for a fact those things have no effect on you.
“What?” He asks and you don’t like the hint of mockery you can hear in his voice, “Don’t tell me... you never used one before?”
“Oh my God, you are impossible!”
He laughs at you, pointing his finger now that he is wrongly and completely sure you have never seen, touched or used any of the things he sells.
“I have tried them if you really must know, but they are not that special.” You regret this confession the moment his features shift, turning from mirth to disbelief as the depth behind them gets clearer in his head.
“Wait, you mean you never... you know?”
His mouth is agape and it makes you want to punch him in the face because one, he looks like a poor meme of a fish and two because you can feel the moment he’ll start to ridicule you coming closer.
“What? I have never what?” You hiss, your face feeling as hot as the bloody sun due to the embarrassment.
“You never had an orgasm with any toy?” He inquires further, looking at you as if you are some rare creature he has never seen before and deeply wants to study now that he has discovered it.
All you want to do is disappear and forget this whole talk that just happened and you sure as hell do not want to answer his question but, somehow, your mouth opens and the words come out in a strangled whisper before you can usher them back in.
“I’m not even sure I ever had an orgasm at all...”
“Wait, are you serious right now or are you just shitting me?” He looks almost comical in his flabbergasted state and, honestly, if it wasn’t your sexual life being judged you would probably laugh at him but mirth is not something you manage to feel when your eyes are watering with frustration and shame.
“Taehyung!” You whine, your eyes fixing on your shoes because you seriously can’t look him in the eyes now, if ever again.
“Oh my God you are serious, wow, that is so sad.” You can feel your heart falling in your chest at his words and you don’t even know why you care about his opinion on this particular matter but the pity in his voice awakens something within you, something you ignored for a very long time.  
“What lousy fuckers have you met in the city, seriously.” He presses forward and you can hear a hint of laughter in his voice or maybe it truly is just your imagination but it is enough to drive you away from the scenery and probably never return again.
“Ok, this is where I draw the line, I’m leaving, good-fucking-bye.”
You turn on your heels, aiming for the door but you are kept in place by his firm hand around your wrist.
“Wait, wait, wait,” His voice sounds softer to your ears and you let that timbre fool you enough for you to turn around, ready to listen to his next words.
You turn in time to see him grab a toy from one of the top shelves right next to you and your blood starts to boil in your veins. You are one second away from being outraged and railed up enough to attempt murdering him again.
“Before you go, take this, I swear to God you will thank me in the morning.”
With a devilish smile, he puts a pink vibrator in your hands and you can’t help yourself but look at it and notice the shape of two rabbit ears at the end of the long shaft. It doesn’t look like anything you have ever used and it also looks mildly terrifying because you have no idea how to use the damn thing.
“Taehyung...” You hiss, glaring at him in a way you hope is going to be enough for him to drop the subject but you obtain quite the contrary effect.
He hits his forehead with the palm of his hand and turns around to grab a bottle you are far too familiar with. Lube.
“I almost forgot, you’ll probably need this as well.”
You hate the feigned innocence in his expression and oh, how badly you want to punch it off of him.
“Taehyung, I swear if you don’t cut the shit I’ll make you swallow the damn thing.”
“Hot.” He muses, chuckling.
“Taehyung!”
“Can you please indulge me for just one time?” His eyes turn a bit more serious and you unconsciously start to trouble your bottom lip, hating yourself because you are still considering his offer despite the terrible experiences you have had before.
“If you seriously hate it you can come here tomorrow morning and throw the bloody thing in my face and I won’t stop you. Deal?”
You don’t know if it’s the prospect of hitting him with a vibrator that convinces you or maybe that innate desire of always being on the winning side but before you can realize in what kind of situation you are throwing yourself in, you open your mouth and successfully put a gravestone on your tomb.
“Deal.”
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The moon shines brightly in the sky as you leave Taehyung’s shop, walking as fast as your feet allow you to so that nobody will be able to spot the shop’s logo on the plastic bag you’re clutching to your chest like your life depends on it.
It is only when you arrive in front of your yard that you realize your luggage has been abandoned there for quite a long time and it’s with subsequent relief that you notice not a single thing appears to be missing nor out of place.
You sigh heavily and decidedly open up your suitcase to shove inside the vibrator your best friend has just gifted you because yes, you are an adult and your parents are not oblivious to your active sexual life — despite it being very flat and very close to non-existent — but you really do not wish to let them know any details of that portion of your life if you can help it.
You put a smile on your face and gingerly walk to your door, trying to gain back the feeling of easiness and happiness that usually comes with your arrival back home.
The doorbell rings through the house and its sound alone throws you back in time when you were a kid dying to hear that sound because it meant your friends — well, Taehyung, at least — had come to play and you could escape the confinements of your room and boredom to play with them.
Your mother opens the door and a smile stretches immediately on her features, so similar to your own you can’t help but mirror it and then throw your arms against her frame, hugging her close to your chest because you have missed her, her perfume, her meals and everything you wanted to get away from when you were younger and ready to take over the world.
Despite the ups and downs of your arrival, the evening passes quickly in the company of your lovely parents and it feels nice to talk about everyday stuff without filters and it also feels nice to just sit in silence in front of the tv, relishing in each others’ presence and warmth.
Your room looks just like you have left it when you went away for college and even after so many years you can’t find the will to change it yourself. You grew up, of course, many of the clothes in the wardrobe do not even fit you anymore and you certainly have changed your tastes in music over time. Overall, it almost looks like the bedroom of someone foreign but, you like it just the way it is because every detail inside of it is so personal and it was so carefully chosen back then that your heart warms with memories every time your eyes land on something you didn’t remember being there.
Your bedroom in the city looks nice, just like a picture out of a magazine but it doesn’t have personality nor something that screams your name to whoever may walk in it and that’s why you will never change this room right here, even when it clearly belongs to a seventeen-year-old senior girl about to graduate and leave for college.
You close the door behind your back and hop onto the bed, relishing in how soft it feels under your tired body and most importantly how freshly cleaned it smells like. You know your mother still cleans your room as if you live with them and it makes you feel guilty at times, especially when you are away, but when you are back it’s like a bloody dream. Everything is tidy and smells wonderful and even that is something very different from what you are used to in the city.
Your mother would probably scold you to no end if she could see the state you left your apartment in. But sometimes, when the workday gets too long and you are too tired, honestly, being tidy is not your number one priority and it clearly shows when you muster the courage to clean everything and return your place to a decent one.
You huff and sprawl on the bed, legs and arms wide on its surface as you stare at the ceiling, a pout on your mouth.
Ever since you walked through the door of your childhood house all you can think about is the secret held inside your suitcase and what you are going to do with it.
You rest on your side and lock your gaze on your luggage, rummaging through the many things that could go wrong if you happen to decide to try out the so-called gift Taehyung has given you.
You could lie, you think. You could tell him it didn’t work for you in the morning and just leave it at that.
It would be a good solution but there is this part of you that is curious and there’s also this tiny part of you that wants it to work. You have tried stuff, you have been with a decent amount of men and at some point in your life you decided to give it up because clearly, pleasure wasn’t something you could achieve sexually.
But what if it doesn’t have to be like this?
You bite your bottom lip, still unsure on what to do and after long minutes you get off your bed in frustration and almost rip open the luggage to get to the object of your desire.
Your heart is hammering in your chest even though you know your parents are sound asleep but still, the idea of them catching you trying to pleasure yourself in your childhood bedroom scares you to no end. And you would never admit it aloud, but it excites you too in some twisted way.
You dim the lights in your room to create some sort of atmosphere whilst feeling extremely stupid the whole time. You are incredibly awkward and if Taehyung could see you right now he’d probably laugh his ass off.
“This is so stupid,” you mutter to yourself as you get under the covers, trying to relax and stop thinking about what you want or not want to happen.
You wet your lips and take a deep breath and, lord, it almost feels like losing your virginity all over again because the knot inside your stomach is as tight as it was back then.
“It’s just a fucking sex toy, it’s not rocket science.” You hiss to yourself as you uncap the bottle of lube, quickly spreading it on the rabbit-looking toy within your hands.
You gulp down and turn it on, always the control freak that needs to know exactly what is going to happen and how it is going to happen all the bloody time.
You marvel at the little rabbit ears, vibrating alongside with the shaft and you finally realize their purpose and boy, is that excitement that you feel building between your legs?
You have felt desire before, you have felt need but it never culminated into an orgasm or even a hint of pleasure before and you don’t know if it’s because Taehyung was so shocked by your confession or what but, for the first time in a very long time, you want that to change. Tonight.
You quickly get out of your pajama pants and proceed to remove your underwear which, with mild surprise, you notice to be wet with your arousal.
You stroke your sex a few times to make the lube’s job easier and, breathing in, you start working the vibrator in.
The shaft is still as you carefully move it past your folds and you are almost surprised by how your walls stretch around it without much resistance and it makes you wonder: did really the prospect of changing things aroused you this much?
You shake your head, pushing all thoughts out of it to focus only on your pleasure and what feels good at this moment.
The vibrator is well sheathed inside of you when you finally decide to turn it on, the rabbit ears slightly pressed over your mound.
The vibrations take you by surprise because they come in not-synchronized waves so that your presumably pleasure spots are continuously stimulated and you have no time to concentrate too much on either of them.
You rest your body against the mattress and close your eyes, relaxing the muscles of your neck as you give in to the idea of finally unlocking something within you.
Your fingers blindly play with the settings of the toy and you let your body decide what feels best for it, for once letting everything but your mind do the work.
The slight curve of the vibrator hits a particularly sensitive spot within you and you find yourself sighing at the sensation. Your eyes open as you realize the sound that just came out of your mouth and your heart starts hammering in your chest.
You push the vibrator further within you, searching with its head that delightful spot again so you can experience that sensation again and give it a name and oh, when you do, a closed window seems to open within you, finally letting the sun in where once there was only darkness.
The rabbit-like ears vibrate and turn around your mound and even that sensation is suddenly a pleasurable one and not something that leaves you completely indifferent.
Your eyes close as you twist around the settings a little more, making the vibrations stronger and quicker and Lord, how good that feels.
Is this why people are so fixated with sex? Is this what other people had been experiencing all along? Because it is utter bliss and oh, you so do not want it to stop.
You find yourself emitting sounds you had no idea you could produce and you tilt your head to the side to bite down on your cushion and stifle them enough for your parents to remain asleep.
You can feel the pleasure building within you in foreign waves that you have no idea how to control or to handle and, for the first time in your life, you don’t even want to. It feels good to give in, to let something do its work and take control over you and, as you completely give in into this moment, that’s when the orgasm surprisingly arrives, tinting everything white and turning your body into a quivering mess.
You can feel your juices dripping down between your legs but you can’t find in yourself the will to care about it, your mind still hazed by the intense release you have been waiting for years.
You don’t remember after how long you finally get up, clean yourself and hide the toy inside your purse but in the morning, you can clearly recall all the events that led to your very first orgasm and most importantly, how amazing you felt right after.
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The sun shines brightly high up in the sky as you briskly cross the street to knock on your best friend’s shop door, his little gift secretly tugged inside your purse, away from prying eyes.
You stop in front of the door, troubling your bottom lip as you take side glances to the street in nervousness. It takes you a few seconds and a lot of controlled breaths for you to push the door open and enter inside the obnoxious shop again.
It is with utter relief that you notice not a single client is there at this early hour and you quickly walk to Taehyung, sitting on the counter with the most heinous smirk you have had the misfortune to witness.
“Oh, look who has returned,” he says, assessing you with his attentive gaze and as his lips curve deeper you know he has already realized he has won the first round in this battle.
“Wipe off that awful smirk off of your face,” you hiss, putting the wrapped up toy on the counter with a little too much enthusiasm.
“I will if you admit I won.”
Oh, if you could erase that smug expression out of his face you would definitely do it. If there is something that everyone around you knows is that you’re a very sour loser and you hate being wrong. Of course, Taehyung knows this very well too and he never drops the chance to rub his win to your face whenever he can.
“It wasn’t a competition.” You hiss, your face feeling feverish hot with the blood that has rushed there from both the rage and the shame.
He cocks his eyebrow at you, tilting his head to the side with a knowing look in his eyes.
“Oh, but it would have been if you had won, or am I mistaken?” He calmly speaks those words but you can sense the mirth laced in them.
“Shut up and tell me how you did it.”
“How I did what?” This time there is no hilarity hidden in his words but true bewilderment.
“You know... made me...?” Your voice is barely above a whisper and the words you speak feel as tight in your throat as rocks would have.
You watch his eyebrows shoot up in realization and his mouth falling agape as he finally picks up all the pieces of the puzzle and puts them together.
“Wait, you really weren’t shitting me last night? You mean... I gave you your first orgasm?!”
You know there isn’t a single living soul inside the shop right about now but you still hiss at him, looking around just to make sure it is a secret known only by him and not the rest of the city.
Your heart hammers in your chest and your head sinks between your shoulders. You have no idea why it feels so shameful to admit that aloud but it does and you find yourself unable to hold his gaze now that the secret is out.
“Oh Lord, poor thing.”
You hate the pity in his voice and the way your body reacts to it: shrinking in itself a little bit more as if it was trying to disappear into itself and never be seen again.
Your eyes shoot up and your knuckles turn white around the counter as you try to gain back that menacing look you had on just yesterday when you first discovered this place.
“Taehyung for the love of God can you stop making fun on my sexual life?”
Your best friend sighs, nodding his head a little as he finally takes into account your feelings, hopefully moving aside the fact that, indeed, it was thanks to him that you finally discovered what pleasure feels like.
“I’m sorry it’s just that... how? I mean, I get lousy sex partners but not even your nice fingers could do the job?”
Oh, you were wrong. You thought he was going to drop the bloody subject and just make you pry to his secrets but no, more awkward questions are leaving his mouth and you honestly have not a single answer to give.
“I don’t know how! If I had known we wouldn’t be having this conversation now, would we?”
“True.”
Silence falls between you two and you start troubling your bottom lip until you can feel the awful taste of copper in your mouth and that seems to be the catalyst to your will to pose the question anew.
“So, how did you do it?”
Taehyung smiles as he unwraps the toy from the pink bag, looking at it as if it were a piece of art and you almost gag on air at the sight of him, so entranced by a bloody vibrator.
“Well, this little toy right here is one of the ladies’ favorite so, there’s that,” He says before putting it back down with a slight pout on his mouth, “But I can’t give you the answers you need, _____.”
Your brows knit and he shakes his head before sighing, finally looking somewhat serious.
“Pleasure comes in different ways for everyone. What feels good to you may feel awful or like nothing to me and vice versa. There is no rule or equation to solve in a matter like this.”
A few seconds pass as you ponder his words and you watch with dread a little smirk forming on his lips.
“But...”
“But?”
“I bet I can make you come again, multiple times.”
Your saliva seems to get stuck in your throat in a vain attempt to suffocate you and honestly, if survival instinct and all that shit didn’t exist, you’d gladly let it because this is not how you wanted this whole conversation to be like.
“Multiple times?” You snicker at him, your eyes glossy with the aftermath of your almost-suffocation.
“Yes.”
“Oh, please, Taehyung, don’t get ahead of yourself,” you promptly reply, trying to hide the way your body has tensed after his words because, lord, what would you do to know how that feels like when a single orgasm has turned your whole world upside down.
“Want to bet?” He asks, wiggling his eyebrows at you. The little fucker knows all your weak points and oh, do you love to win bets but, this time there is something stopping you from quickly accepting the challenge.
“No?! What’s in it for me... no wait, what do you want?” Your eyes narrow at him and he chuckles slightly, suddenly assuming his most fake innocent look ever.
“Well, if you win, I will move my shop somewhere far from your childhood home so you don’t have to look at my hideous logo ever again.” A devilish smirk twists his features and a shiver runs down your spine as he opens his mouth again, his voice incredibly low and laced with something you can only address as desire, “But if I win I get to fuck you every night until you leave for the city again.”
“What?!” To say that you are shocked would be an understatement. Of all the things he could have asked for he asks for... sex? With you?
“These are my terms.” He simply states and you hate how calm he looks when your heart is beating like a fucking drum inside your chest.
“Deal.” You hiss because truly, you would do anything now to break his confidence and bend his ego.
“Really?” You relish in the surprised look on his face and you smirk because you may go down but oh, you will go down fighting.
“Yeah, there is no way you’re going to win this and I can’t wait to kick your sorry ass away from my neighbor.”
“OK, then. Meet me here tonight at nine. I’m going to give you the most toe-curling orgasm you will ever experience.”
You leave the shop with rage written all over your face but you can’t hide to yourself the way excitement has coiled in your insides in utter anticipation and you hate him for it because you don’t want to lose the bet but, at the same time, everything makes you wonder if it would really be a loss in the first place.
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 You stand in front of the mirror feeling like the stupidest human being to ever walk the Earth because one, you have accepted a bet with your best friend that includes sex in it and two, because you are actually dressing up for it.
The black and dangerously slow dress fits your body to perfection: it is tight around your waist and wide on your hips, successfully helping in creating that perfect hourglass figure you always desired to possess; it nicely hugs your breasts, turning them into something inviting even to your own eyes and it leaves your collarbone and neck completely free and naked which is something you have learned boys love to see.
Boys. Not Taehyung. Not your best friend.
You stare at your red lips, matched with the cherries printed on your dress and you move to smear it away from your mouth and forget you ever put it there.
It feels stupid to dress up for him when you had never had any desire to be with him in the first place and it feels even more stupid because this is not a date, this is a silly little game you still have to decide whether you want to win or lose.
“What are you even doing...” You whisper to yourself, shaking your head. It had been a provocative bet for him but, had he stopped to ponder what it was going to imply in the future?
You are going to have sex with your best friend and you already know, acting like it never happened won’t be possible regardless of the final outcome.
If you win the bet it means you spent another night with a man incapable of giving you pleasure and if you lose, you will have to fuck said man for an entire week and then leave for the city as if nothing ever occurred between the two of you.
This is fucked up, you find yourself thinking and yet, you can’t find the will in you to stop it nor to remove the obnoxious red tint from your lips because, after all, if you have to go down you’ll make sure to bring him down with you.
You already know he’s going to tease you, to provoke you until you can’t take any more and making yourself as tempting as possible seems like the only solution to get back to him. Making him want you like a woman and not like some twisted up experiment of some sort.
Fiery determination sets back into your heart, subduing the doubts and fears until you are briskly walking across the street, your eyes set on the turned off lights of the shop and on what awaits you behind that closed door.
You have to take a few small breaths before you can knock on the door and you find yourself jumping in surprise when it immediately opens to reveal Taehyung standing there with a playful smile on his lips.
The moonlight shines on his golden skin and you really don’t know if some kind of magic is at work tonight but, you swear to God he looks so inviting with his tussled ash blonde hair and deep black eyes, standing in front of you with a simple pair of black pants and a white slightly unbuttoned shirt.
“Come in,” he simply says, pushing the door ajar to make space for you and you silently accept his invite, stepping into the shop with a trembling heart.
The lights that you thought to be turned off when looking at the shop from the outside reveal themselves to be pretty dim and a nice shade of pink and you find yourself liking the nice atmosphere they create.
“You look lovely,” he says, one of his hands behind your back to guide you forward and you stumble on your words, unsure whether or not you should accept the compliment or not.
“Wow, you are tense, ok,” he chuckles and you feel your face turning hot to the touch.
“Aren’t you?” You ask in a breath, turning towards him to study his face.
He tilts his head to the side and slightly shakes his head, pouting towards you as he does when he’s deep in thought.
“I mean, maybe I’m a little nervous, yeah, but definitely not as much as you are.” He playfully smiles at you and you roll your eyes to the ceiling, huffing in response.
“What? Afraid you’re going to lose?” He teases you further, winking at you and you feel your blood boil in your veins because you’d like a nice and intelligent retort but you have none to give when you’re not sure what you’re afraid of in the first place.
“Aaand, that’s my cue, good-fucking-bye,” you hiss, turning on your heels because, honestly, running away from this evident mistake seems like the only intelligent decision you’ve made in like the past two days or so.
“Wait, ______,” Taehyung trails behind you, his fingers slightly brushing against your arms to gather your attention, “I’m sorry, I was just trying to make you relax a little bit. I won’t tease you anymore.”
You turn around to closely watch his face and when you fail to pick up any hint of deception on his features you make the decision to stay for reasons you can’t comprehend yourself.
“Can I ask you something, though?” You say, troubling your bottom lip with your teeth, another question pending on your mouth the moment he proposed this bet to you.
“Of course you can.”
“Why do you want...?” Your voice trails off as he takes a step closer to you, surprising you with his sudden proximity. It is not like you have never been close before or even closer, if you have to be completely honest, but tonight everything feels different and out of place.
“What?” He asks, his voice low and deep as he takes another step closer, “Why do I want to fuck you?” He inquires further, taking another step and successfully forcing you to take a few steps back in return until you are squeezed between his body and the counter at your back.
“Y-yeah,” you whisper as his hands come in contact with your hips to lift you up and sit you on the cold table.
“You honestly have no idea why?” He says, his voice husky as he stands between your legs, his lips only a few inches away from your neck.
“N-no?” You reply, your eyebrows furrowing as his hot breath hits your skin, making you shiver at the sensation.
“I had the silliest crush on you when we were teenagers and you were like the prettiest girl in school,” he confesses, chuckling at the memory.
“I wasn’t...” You reply, trying to look into his eyes because honestly, you were never a popular girl or one many boys wanted to date.
“You were to me,” you find a hint of shyness in his voice and it makes you smile tenderly at him because all this time, you had no idea. Taehyung had never been a boy to your eyes, he had always been just Tae, your best and, quite frankly, only friend.
“And I watched you leave and become this beautiful woman and I don’t know, I guess a little part of me still wants to know what it would feel like to be with you.”
“Tae...” you whisper, your hands trailing on his face as he comes closer to your neck and all the nice words you want to say to him, all the other questions, they get all swept away by his mouth, kissing your soft skin until it coaxes a whimper out of your lips.
Your body seems to catch fire as a whole while he kisses you, hugging you closer with his arms firmly around your hips and you find it hard to talk and to think or even breathe for you had no idea your body could react like this to your best friend’s touch.
He kisses your jawline tenderly, moving on its expanse until your mouth is right there, ready to be kissed and oh, does he kiss you. His lips are warm and soft and taste like a summer fling on the beach and it’s so madly intoxicating you find yourself pulling him closer, not willing to let go.
Why is everything about Taehyung suddenly so captivating and sensual and just... beautiful? Why does everything seem so incredibly right for your body and heart but so utterly wrong for your mind?
“Your lips are as nice as I always thought they would feel like,” he confesses, his breath hitting your wet lips and you open your eyes, realizing only then that you had closed them.
Taehyung briefly kisses you again before moving onto your neck anew with newfound fervor and you find yourself tensing at his touch, still unable to decide if you want him to stop or to keep going.
“Shh,” he whispers atop your skin, sensing the way your body has stiffened under his touch, “Just relax, peach. Let me make you feel really good.”
His mouth is like poison on your skin, rendering it feverish to the touch and you find yourself caving in, allowing him to take control and, for once in your life, it is not something panic-inducing but rather liberating.
His hands move flat against your hips and travel upwards on your sides whilst his mouth trails downwards to meet the soft expanse of your breasts.
His hands push your chest forward and your back arches for him as he kisses the supple flesh your dress doesn’t reach to cover, allowing him good access to the prize he seeks to seize.
His mouth kisses your chest like he would kiss your lips and it is passionate and wet and it makes you quiver in both pleasure and anticipation for what is out to come. You feel utterly confused because it is not the first time a man has kissed your body or pulled you closer and yet, it never felt quite like this and the more the minutes tick by, the more you feel attracted to your best friend and, honestly, the more the attraction grows the less you wish to win this bet so that you can experience all of this every day for the next week.
His fingers tug at the hem of your dress, pulling it down to further reveal your chest, enclosed in a nice black bra that is evidently of his taste since he hums in contentment.
Your dress gathers around your hips and you shiver as his fingers start to roam around your naked skin, caressing every inch they can reach while moving blindly since his eyes are closed and his mouth is open to kiss and lick your breasts.
You sigh as he unclasps your bra and his warm hands come to cup your breasts passionately, bringing them together so that he can kiss both of them equally, leaving a trail of saliva on the feverish skin.
You find yourself whimpering for him and he relishes in the sound, encouraged to keep his ministrations going.
The sensation of his warm lips around your nipple is something heavenly and it makes you close your eyes and tilt your head backward. Your back arches for him and he sucks on the hardening nip whilst humming at the way your body reacts to his very touch.
“Every inch of you tastes so sweet,” he whispers hoarsely and you whine in response because nobody has ever made you feel so desired and cherished before and God, do your insides love everything about this.
His hands move around your hips and you lift your ass up, allowing him to finally remove your dress and take a look at what is hidden underneath.
Your underwear is matched to perfection with your bra and you know you’ve made a great choice when he steps back and hisses at the sight of your sex, barely covered by the transparent black piece of clothing.
You watch his lips twist into a smirk and you know it must be because of a wet spot, clearly showing through the fabric and even though you’d gladly remove that teasing smile off of his lips there is no hiding that he has a great effect over you.
You arch your back to push your chest forward and spread your legs wider whilst biting your bottom lip to provoke him and tease him just like he so loves to do with you.
“Fuck,” he hisses, running a hand through his locks while continuously wetting his lips.
“Am I living up to your teenage dreams?” You ask, voice coy despite the way your body sensually moves before him.
“Oh no, you are fucking better,” he growls, unable to shift his gaze from your sex up to your face.
“I am?” You ask, tilting your head to the side with a little smile on your lips, “Then what are you waiting for?”
Your words seem to be exactly the permission he was looking for and you can barely finish your sentence before he is on his knees, his face perfectly aligned with your partially clothed sex.
You lift your ass again as soon as his fingers tug at your underwear and you shiver at the sensation of the cold surface of the table on your now naked cheeks.
He marvels at your sex for a few seconds, just enough to make blood rush to your face in embarrassment, and then, without a single warning, he licks your folds with one big swift movement.
“T-tae,” you whimper at the foreign sensation and he lifts his gaze, eyes glinting with warmth and trepidation.
“Did that feel good?” He asks, caressing your thighs with his hands to help you relax again and give in more to his touch.
“Yes,” you whisper and he starts planting kisses on your inner thigh to build up the excitement coiling in your stomach.
“Am I the first one to do that to you?” He inquires further and you bite down your lip, struggling between the need to lie to make yourself look more experienced in the realm of sex and the one to just be sincere.
In the end, you decide to tell the truth for, after all, your only fault is to suck at picking men willing to give pleasure to their companions instead of only seeking out their own.
“Yes.”
“Good,” he says, smiling at you with mirth in his eyes and you consider the idea of strangling him with your thighs right about now, “I want to be your first in many things,” he adds, licking his lips as he resumes his position between your legs.
“The first one to make you orgasm, the first one to taste your pussy and, maybe, the very first man able to make you come for him multiple times.”
At any other time, you would retort something witty to burst his bubble but his words do not anger you, in fact, they actually excite you further and it is truly a mystery how or why your body likes and reacts to everything he says or does.
Taehyung’s hot tongue is suddenly flat against your mound and all the thoughts in your mind are rendered inconsequential by the simple touch.
You can feel his plump lips encompassing your folds as he takes another tentative lick at your sex and you shiver at the sensation, sighing for him to encourage him in his movements.
His tongue turns suddenly relentless over your sex, bent on gathering all the juices you produce in return for its wild caresses and he hums on your mound every time you let out a sigh or a mewl, the low rumble of his voice sending shivers down your spine.
As his moves increase in boldness and pace you find yourself tugging on his hair, unable to understand whether you wish to push him away or pull him closer.
The minutes stretch as the shop fills with the lewd sounds of his tongue on your wet core and the way he sucks and pulls at the skin every now and then, just to elicit moans out of you.
“Taehyung,” you whimper as his tongue moves past your lips to lap at your inner walls, slightly shaking his head so that his nose can tease your untouched clitoris.
His hands cup your ass and he pushes you forward until you are barely balanced on the counter and completely at his disposal.
His tongue shoots upwards within you, tasting and stretching your inner walls with its ravenous movements and it doesn’t take long for your insides to start twitching, responding to his ministrations with such an ease someone would think you didn’t just experience your first orgasm the night before this very moment.
“Tae,” you whimper again and his gaze lifts up to meet your pleading one. His mouth suddenly detaches from your sex and you pout at the sudden loss of warmth and pleasure.
“Yes, peach?” There it is again, the little nickname he has decided to use on you tonight and even if you were never a fan of those, even when you prohibited every male you’ve been with of ever using one, on Taehyung’s mouth it sounds incredibly endearing.
“Would you like some dick on the go, perhaps?”
The illusion shatters with his next words and your legs close shut as you are suddenly reminded why Taehyung has always been nothing but a friend to you.
“Wow, ok, you ruined it.”
It is almost comical the way his eyes get big as saucers at your words and his mouth hangs open in a perfect impersonation of a fish.
“Come on, don’t tell me it wasn’t funny!” He says, his voice still retaining that rough and sexy tone that had made you cave in the first place.
“Do you honestly think now is the time for humor?!” You squeak, ready to get back on your feet and bloody leave.
“Why not? Sex can be fun!” he retorts, scratching his head with his eyebrows deeply furrowed.
You roll your eyes to the ceiling and click your tongue in your mouth, shaking your head in bewilderment for how can someone be both an ass with the brain of a child and a sensual man with the power of a God to bend you with.
“Ok,” he says, looking at your unimpressed expression, “No jokes, got it.”
His hands rest on your knees to push your legs open and you squeeze them even more shut, picking up the chance to tease him as much as he has been doing ever since you first came into the shop.
“Forget it, I’m not in the mood anymore.”
“Wait, are you for real?”
You watch him scramble back on his feet and you almost laugh in his face as he looks at you, utterly lost.
“What if I am?” You ask, your eyes turning into slits while you force your lips to remain in a tight line, “What would you do to make me change my mind?”
His eyes darken at your words and you think he’ll get back on his knees to resume his previous activities but, instead, he harshly kisses your mouth, his teeth latching at your bottom lip to drag it down until you hiss in both pain and pleasure.
“Open your legs,” he says and all the mirth shown before is gone in both his features and his voice and you think about resisting, about teasing him forward but his fingers wrap around your neck, slightly pressing over your carotid to cut off the oxygen income.
“Do you really want me to stop and go back home?” He asks and you find yourself opening your mouth to whimper out a miserable ‘no’.
“So, will you be a good girl and open up your legs for me now?”
“Y-yes,” you whisper as his gaze shifts from your face down at your closed-off mound.
His eyes are dark with desire and you marvel at the way he looks like a completely different Taehyung and, somehow, this side of him feels incredibly exciting.
“Yes, what?” He asks as you open up your legs for him, his gaze fixing back on your own. For a moment you stay in silence, utterly confused and then your insides twitch at the sudden illumination. It is surprising to know where his desires lay and it is even more baffling to realize they seem to mirror your very own fantasies.
“Yes, daddy.” You choke out, your eyes slightly closing as his grip around your neck fades, allowing the oxygen to kick back in your system.
“Good girl.”
His lips stretch into a smile and in an instant, the dominant look is swept away from his face and you stare at him, unable to comprehend how he manages to shift between both but even with that seraphic smile, he doesn’t allow much room for thoughts to happen for one of his hands immediately flies down between your legs, cupping your sex until you’re sighing for him, pleading for more of his touch.
His mouth is rough against your own, all teeth and tongue and you mewl as one of his fingers moves past your folds, resuming the stretching his tongue had worked on your walls.
This is not a foreign sensation. You’ve had your fingers playing down there countless of times and, sometimes, even your partners attempted it but it has never been particularly pleasurable.
Taehyung is quick to notice that, in fact, even his touch can’t spark up the sensations his tongue lightened up within you and with that knowledge, he lets go of your mouth and falls on his knees anew.
His hot breath hits your slick folds and you shiver, your eyes fixed on the way his eyes glint at the sight of your naked cunt, dripping for him.
With slowed down precision he penetrates you with another one of his fingers, curling them in sync to test the way your body would respond to his touch.
He pushes them in as far as they can reach and the pace within you is slow but pleasant nonetheless. Still, it doesn’t have that butterfly-awakening effect you are both seeking out of you and he hums, deep in thought as if he were studying some rare species of some sort.
His mouth opens and you wait for his voice to break the silence in the room but, instead, his lips press together around your clitoris, allowing him to suck around the sensitive bud.
You hiss at the sensation and fire erupts back within you, making your back arch and your head tilt back.
“Fuck,” you whimper out and you can feel him smile against your swelling flesh.
“That’s it, peach, give in to me.”
His voice is rough and guttural and it sends shivers down your spine, warmness coiling in your stomach as he presses his mouth around your mound again ready to lick, suck and tease.
His fingers pick up the pace within you, scissoring to blissfully stretch you and, united with his relentless mouth, you are quick to unfold before him.
“That-that feels so good,” you mewl, your eyes opening to fix onto his head, nicely enclosed by your thighs. It is a sight you would have never thought possible to be real and, most importantly, you would have never thought to desire keeping him there as much as you do now.
Your words work wonders on his mood and you can sense the shift before it actually happens but oh, when he picks up his pace within you and sucks hard on your clitoris leaving very little room for you to catch your breath, you are fast to crumble and succumb to pleasure.
The orgasm washes over you like an unexpected wave and your voice sounds almost foreign to your own ears as you moan out his name. It is the first time you are truly coming for a man, moving your mouth in the shape of his name.
Taehyung laps all your juices with his untiring tongue and you quiver with the feeling of being overly stimulated all over your swollen mound.
“You are already one step closer to losing our bet,” he says, voice hoarse as he tilts his head towards you and you whine at the sight of him, face flushed and chin dripping with your juices.
By now it is clear to both of you that you won’t actually win the bet and, quite honestly, you don’t even want to when it feels so good to have him working wonders between your legs.
It is, then, with the goal of losing yourself into pleasure that you speak the next words.
“Shut up and fuck me.”
Your words make him chuckle and you yelp in surprise as he slaps your sensitive mound with enough force for it to sting.
“Careful with your words, peach.” He says, getting up on his feet to be at eye level with you again, “Unless you want me to teach you a lesson.”
Your insides twitch at his words and it makes you wonder how have you lived your life all this time without knowing you had that big of a dominance kink. Of course, you have watched porn before and you have preferred certain types of kink but having little to zero experience in what you actually like, everything comes as a surprise tonight. You would never admit it out loud and especially not to him but, Taehyung is the man responsible for your discovery of your utmost inner desires.
His mouth seeks your own and you can taste your own flavor lodged between his lips, hanging from his tongue, and it is utterly inebriating.
His fingers trace your sex with the most delicate touch and he smirks on your mouth, his eyes opening to look into yours.
“Look who is wet for my dick,” he says, his tongue licking your bottom lip to add fuel to the fire already raging between your legs.
“How badly do you want me to fuck you?” He asks, his head tilted to the side so that he can kiss your jawline and further down your neck, your most sensitive spot.
“So much, daddy,” you whimper out, hugging him closer almost as if you are afraid he is going to leave before complying to his promise, “Please.”
“Stay here,” he whispers and you look at him confused, fighting the instinct to pull him back as he untangles from your embrace and takes a few steps back.
You do exactly as he says, though, remaining perfectly still on the counter and you can only imagine how you must look right now: red lipstick smeared on your lips, your body glistening with sweat and your sex slick with both your juices and arousal.
It is an image he seems to enjoy though and the way he looks at you, licking his lips as if anticipating what he’s about to do to you, makes your heart flutter in your chest.
Taehyung takes a few steps back unable to glue his eyes off of you until he absolutely has to and you watch him move past you and disappear behind a door.
The wait makes your heart burst in your chest with expectation and, of course, anxiousness because yes, it is liberating to let someone else take the lead for once but, after all, you were always a control freak and not knowing what is going to happen will always scare the living wits out of you.
Seconds tick by feeling as long as minutes and you are about to combust in flames or leave your position to follow him when he appears again, a little devilish smile on his lips and a white toy in his hands.
You are familiar with what he has brought back from behind that door but you have never used it before, you didn’t think it would work on you, just like everything else.
Taehyung walks slowly between your legs again and he stretches his arm behind your back, seeking for a plug for the magic wand.
The toy comes to life in his hands and you shiver in anticipation as he faces you again, eyes glinting with mischief.
“I’m going to send you to heaven,” he hoarsely declares and you find yourself spreading your legs wider for him, ready to take everything he has to give.
The first touch of the toy on your clitoris sends a jolt to course through your body and your knuckles turn white as you grip hard the counter’s edge, bracing yourself for the ride he has in store for you.
Taehyung is silent as he works the wand’s head on your little mound but the sound of the toy working its magic is enough to fill the room, nicely accompanied by your sighs of ecstasy.
His free hand comes in contact with one of yours and you let go of your tight hold on the counter, following his directions until you are the one balancing the wand on your sex.
“Keep it right there, yes, just like that.”
Your heart leaps in your chest at the praise and with entranced eyes, you watch him get back on his knees.
Your breath itches in your chest as two of his fingers move past your dripping lips, resuming their work as before you came all over them.
Taehyung works slowly and with utter precision and you can feel his digits slightly pressing over your most hidden pleasurable spot and you whimper out for him, letting him know how close he is to his target.
You expect him to rub into you faster, forcing another orgasm out of you but he actually retreats with a little smirk. He is up to tease you, you realize, and you can’t find in yourself the will to protest when it still feels so darn good.
Another one of his fingers moves past your folds and you quiver at the sensation of the deep stretching, relishing in the way they nicely curl within you.
You don’t know if it’s because the magic wand is working wonders on your clitoris but now, even the movements of his fingers feel like heaven and that, is a whole another level of accomplishments Taehyung has achieved in barely two days.
You can hear the squelching sounds of your sex as he fucks into you with his fingers, now relentlessly battering your insides with the evident goal of turning your world upside down again.
His free hand comes in contact with your own atop the sex toy and with utter precision he twists the settings upwards, increasing the speed of its vibrations.
Your eyes roll on the back of your head and your body starts to spasmodically contract. His fingers ravage into you faster, hitting that desired spot he had caressed before and you come, oh Lord you come in a cacophony of sounds and screams.
You almost drop the wand as you madly quiver on the counter and it’s only because his hand is keeping the toy in place that you do not do so.
The orgasm seems endless and it keeps coming and coming until you are breathless and your body feels as heavy as a boulder.
You can barely register the absence of both the toy and his fingers at first, too lost into the haze of pleasure to notice or to care. It is only when his arms are tightly engulfing you that you notice the change and you open your eyes, looking up to his pleased face.
“That was amazing,” you confess and you hate that it will burst his ego to exorbitant levels but lying doesn’t really come simply when you’re still trembling over a nice set of orgasms.
“You realize you just lost our bet, don’t you, peach?”
His breath feels hot and ticklish on your ear and you tilt your head backward away from his face so that you can look into his eyes.
“Do you honestly think I even care now?”
He smiles and places a soft kiss on your lips, hugging you closer in what feels like a very soft aftercare moment.
“I was hoping you wouldn’t. Because you have to stick up to your end of the bargain now.”
“Taehyung,” you softly say, releasing one of your arms from his hold to caress his face, “As long as you can make me feel as good as you did now I will be coming back every day.”
He smiles a pleased smile and you can tell he wants to retort something witty or teasing or quite possibly both but he doesn’t and you are glad for it. You wouldn’t want to ruin the moment, after all.
“We are not done, though,” you say after a while and he quirks his eyebrows upwards.
“Still thirsty, peach?”
Oh, how you love how quickly he switches back to his role and you tilt your head upwards, a soft smile on your lips.
“I didn’t get to feel daddy’s dick yet,” you say as your hand trails down from his cheek to his still clothed sex.
The erection twitches in your palm and the corners of your lips lift up as you notice how hard he feels pressed against your digits.
“Mh,” he hums slowly, closing his eyes as you finally turn your attention to his neglected cock, “Are you sure you’re ready for it?”
“Yes, please.”
Your response comes out in a quick breath and he licks your lips in response, kissing you right after to steal the air out of your lungs.
“I can make you feel real good, daddy,” you say, boldness laced in your words and he chuckles, releasing his hold on you to take a step back.
“Then show me what you got, peach.”
Taehyung doesn’t have to repeat his words twice before you are back on your own two feet — and admittedly you do need a few seconds to get your legs to work again — ready to undress him and make him crumble as hard as he did to you.
Your hands are quick to tug onto his shirt, forcing the button opens with one single swift movement. His mouth opens in protest as the sound of loose buttons falling on the ground reaches his ears but no words come out once it’s your lips that kiss his warm skin.
Your mouth seems to fill with the taste of honey and you can’t decide whether it is the actual taste of his body or, rather, if it is only a fruit of your own mind associating his golden skin to the sweet liquid’s flavour. Nevertheless, he tastes absolutely delicious and you cannot help but suck on the tender flesh, hard enough to bloom flowers atop his chest.
“What a nice mouth you have there, peach,” he murmurs and you smirk on his now covered-in-saliva torso.
“Oh, daddy, I haven’t shown you yet what my pretty mouth can do.”
Taehyung grunts at your evident suggestion and you fall on your knees instantly at the sound, fighting with the button of his pants, eager to finally please him.
You pause for a second recalling how seeing him half naked has almost made you gag yesterday and how now you seem to be unable to wait for him to be bare of any item of clothing. Oh what can change in a span of twenty-four hours, you think to yourself before pushing down his pants.
Taehyung stands in front of you in nothing but his underwear — a simple pair of boxer briefs that have nothing to do with the flimsy thong he flashed you with yesterday — and you open your mouth in awe at the evident bulge hardly concealed under it.
“Like what you see, peach?” He muses and you can hear the smile in his voice but find yourself incapable of looking away from his crotch.
“Very,” you hum in response before your fingers are latching onto the hem of his boxers, ready to reveal what is hidden behind them.
You have never been this eager to see a cock nor to suck it but oh, does Taehyung change everything.
When the fine cloth moves past his hips you inhale deeply, your eyes transfixed on the trail of pubic hair leading to his sex. The boxers fall to his ankles as you let them go, your mouth suddenly dry as you stare at his dick, hard and red and definitely ready to be touched.
You water your mouth a few times before tentatively touching the hot flesh, your fingers encompassing his length with the uncertainty that you feel within your heart.
You have given pleasure to a man before, eager to have some in return if you were good enough but this time, even this feels different for Taehyung has proven to be quite the experienced lover and a big part of you desires to impress him.
His breath hitches in his lungs and you finally lift your gaze to look at his face. His mouth is hanging open, his eyes boring into yours as you finally move your hand alongside his shaft, giving him what he has been desperately craving for all along.
Your mouth twists into a smile at his response and you turn your movements bolder, more confident and, you watch him tilt his head back, his eyes closing at the sensation your fingers provide.
Your thumb rubs against his head to gather his pre-cum and he hisses as you blow hot air onto its tip, teasing him enough to turn him eager.
“Fuck, be a good girl and let me feel your mouth now.”
His voice is rough and deep as he speaks those lewd words and you find yourself immediately obliging to his wishes, throwing your chance of retaliation in the form of teasing out of the window.
Your mouth opens for him and you fix your gaze up to his face again while looking as innocent and coy as you can muster.
You bat your eyelashes at him, your tongue protruding forward ready to welcome the weight of his cock on its rough surface.
Taehyung takes that as a cue to place his hand atop your head, his fingers tugging at your strands of hair to push you forward until you are breathing atop his sex, just an inch away from engulfing him all.
You are the one to take that step forward and as soon as your lips brush his length he releases his breath, his body almost relaxing now that he has been granted his utmost desire.
Your teeth graze his tender skin and you push yourself further, inch after inch until your nose is tickled by his pubic hair and he is panting in approval.
Your lips enclose his member and you inhale deeply, squeezing your cheeks until his fingers start pulling your hair in a vise that makes tears gather in your eyes.
He huffs as his abdomen contracts and you tentatively bob your head whilst releasing your grip around his twitching cock.
The sigh that escapes his mouth sounds like both relief and pleasure and you settle your pace for a pretty gentle one, designed to bring him up to his breaking point as slowly as possible.
“You’re doing so good, peach,” he encourages with voice sounding deep and rough with need and you hum around him to produce goosebumps on his skin.
Your mouth and tongue make lewd sounds as you suck him hard as if his member were an icicle during the very first days of summer and you wish to savor every last drop of the cooling treat.
You have never felt desire blooming between your legs while doing this to other men but tonight, you find yourself rubbing your thighs together every time he hums or sighs or grunts for you.
The need is like a burning fire and it forces you to rest a hand atop your sex to get some of the friction you seem desperate to feel there.
You are able to only press your digits on your clitoris a couple of times before he is made aware of what you are doing.
“Are you touching yourself right now?” He asks and you can’t tell by his tone if he’s more aroused by the act or mad that you did something without asking him first.
Your mouth opens around his cock just enough for you to hum in shame, your eyes fixing on his belly rather than on his eyes.
“What a dirty little girl have you turned into,” he muses and you find the courage to lift up your gaze. The smile that resides on his lips makes your insides twitch and your heart tremble for it promises all the right kinds of wickedness.
“Come here,” he instructs and you leave his member with a lewd pop to get up on your feet and follow him as he drags you further inside the shop.
There appears to be a small niche you hadn’t notice before, right beside the counter and he guides you through it until you are standing face to face with the most bizarre-looking toys you have ever seen.
Taehyung doesn’t address your amazed face in the slightest and silently walks you in front of a mirror, hastily pushing you down to your previous position.
You look up at him with confusion written all over your face and he caresses your left cheek delicately.
“We are going to have so much fun, now,” he says and you nod your head in anticipation, ready to follow his instructions impeccably.
“On your fours,” he says and you follow suit, pressing your hands to the tiled floor and sticking your butt out for good measure.
“Can you look behind your back, peach?” He softly speaks, light glinting in his eyes, and you follow his gaze to be met with a dildo attached to a mirror, perfectly aligned with your ass and, most importantly, your dripping core.
Taehyung moves out of your peripheral vision and you let out a shaky breath as you try to register all his movements with the help of your hearing.
He reappears in your view through the mirror, a pink bottle of lube in his hands you squeeze your legs together in anticipation, already foretasting the pleasure that is about to be sent your way.
Taehyung works as slowly as he possibly can with his fingers, coating the dildo for you at the best of his abilities and you know for a fact that he is doing it on purpose, trying to push you past your tolerance point and Lord, is he getting so damn close.
Just as you are about to snap he gets back on his own two feet, a pleased sound leaving his lips as his gaze focuses back on you.
“Now, be a good girl and fuck yourself with that dildo for daddy.”
His words make all the blood in your body coil down to your stomach, forcing your insides to twitch in excitement and you do not waste even a single second to align yourself to the object responsible for your imminent pleasure.
The dildo feels like any other phallic-looking toy you have used before and you sink onto it with rather ease, helped by the lube and your incredible arousal but the magic seems to happen the second Taehyung’s dick is well encompassed by your mouth again.
You resume your slow bobbing pace around him as if it was never interrupted in the first place but, this time, it is not your head that moves for him, it’s your entire body.
Taehyung stands at a distance that forces you to push your body forward and as you do that, you can feel the toy slipping in and out of you at the same time.
This, is foreign ground again and his little sighs spark you up anew, convincing you to leave behind your initial idea of being gentle and slow and teasing and opt for a rather quicker and rougher pace.
You can feel your own saliva trailing down your chin and pool on the ground but it seems to be only an incentive for you to go harder, relishing in the sounds of approval that leave his swollen mouth.
The faster you move around his shaft the faster the silicone toy batters your sex and you find yourself humming all around him, sending the vibrations up and down his spine, forcing him to moan out your name and tilt his head backward in utter pleasure.
You watch his abdomen contract almost painfully and the vision sparks a question to form in your head and, a few seconds after, on your lips.
Your hips come to a halt, allowing you to let go of his member just enough to voice out your thoughts.
“Would you like to come in my mouth, daddy?” You sugar-coat your words and bat your lashes for good measure and he grunts at the sight of you, so willing to do anything he’d want from you.
“Such a good dirty girl,” he hums, one of his hands releasing its grip from your hair to caress your cheek lovingly and you smile at the fond gesture before quickly engulfing his head into your lips and suck hard on the leaking red tip.
Taehyung groans at the sensation, his body shivering as pleasure spreads through it like a wave you can almost make out the outline of.
You buckle your hips into the toy to quench your own arousal and in a matter of seconds, you have him on the verge of his orgasm, panting and sighing and murmuring encouraging words.
You discard your own purchase on the ground to grasp his ass with your fingers, forcefully pushing his hips to meet your mouth while surely leaving marks on his cheeks that he’d definitely complain about later but, in the heat of the moment, every single one of your actions seems to stir up the fire further.
Your jaw is slack as he starts pounding into you, no more willing to let you decide the pace you are more comfortable in sustaining and it truly takes a lot of work to not gag around him or suffocate on your own spit.
Taehyung comes in hot bursts that take you by surprise but you’re still quick to gulp everything down, ignoring the burning sensation or the tears forming in your eyes because, truly, it is almost a struggle to breathe by now and yet, as he comes moaning out your name you find it impossible for you to care about anything else that isn’t him or his pleasure.
The taste of cum is not pleasant, it never was and it probably will never be but you find it is not quite as disgusting as it tasted before when you were performing your “duty” as a sexual partner. Pleasuring Taehyung is a pleasure in itself and you find yourself licking up your lips as you would do after a satisfying meal.
Taehyung’s hands are warm and turn soft again around your body as he easily lifts you up from the ground to welcome you into his arms.
Your head finds refuge in the crook of his neck and he kisses your temple as your breathing starts slowing down alongside with the hammering within your chest.
One of his hands moves to touch your cheek just like he has done a few moments ago but this time it is to make you look up into his eyes.
His irises as dark as the night sky are fixed upon your face but you can’t pinpoint what the light in his eyes could possibly mean. That is until his lips seek your own and you find yourself leaning into him to kiss him back.
Taehyung kisses you with the despair of a man that knows this is his last chance and with the sweetness of one that has won your heart and, Lord, does it turn your legs into jelly.
He makes you feel like that teenage girl dreaming about boyfriends and first kisses in the safety of her room, he makes you feel like that young girl who used to sneak out of her house in the night to go to a party with her best friend and dance all night until her feet hurt. He makes you feel like the girl you used to be before the city sucked you in and turned you into this sad and stiffer version of yourself. A pale reflection of what you used to be, of the things you used to dream.
When Taehyung leaves your mouth you are panting and you are quite certain your eyes must be glossy with unshed tears.
His thumb strokes your cheek and you tilt your head to the side to look at him better.
“I want you to fuck me,” you whisper as you start mimicking his sweet touches with your own hand.
He chuckles and shakes his head looking rather bewildered. ”Didn’t I do that already, tonight?” He asks and you smile back at him, shaking your head in return.
“I want you to truly fuck me,” you retort, voice barely above a whisper for you never thought you’d ever pronounce those words to him, of all people, “I want to feel you inside of me.”
You try to ignore the way your heart hammers in your chest or the way your insides contract in embarrassment and your ears turn flaming hot under his gaze.
There is a fraction of a second where you wish you could take it back and simply walk out the front door and forget any of this ever happened but then, something shifts inside Taehyung’s eyes and you instantly know, the words you have spoken are the ones he had been waiting for all night.
His hands turn from gentle to rough again against your supple flesh and you yelp in both surprise and pain as he yanks you up on his shoulder, dragging you back where it all started.
Your bottom cheeks hit the cooling surface of the counter again and you can barely utter a single word before Taehyung’s mouth is seeking your own, teeth and tongue working to pry your lips open and claim your taste until it almost seems to become the one he is embodied with.
“Tell me how badly you want my dick,” he whispers, voice hoarse as he instantly attacks the soft skin under your ear, sucking and pinching the flesh in a fine mixture of pleasure and ache — a combo your neck seems to be sharing with your sex.
“So, so bad, daddy, please.”
Taehyung hands force your legs open so that he can stand between them and you let him, arching your back a little to push your hips forward and meet the heat of his semi-hard cock.
His fingers are rough against your skin and they love to torment your thighs and hips and even the little curve of your bottom cheeks that he has access to.
His mouth is generous on your breasts and you mewl for him, pulling him in with your fervent touch and your wanton desire.
Your fingers find purchase on his hair and you tug on them until he growls and bites your skin in retaliation, making you chuckle at his child-like temper.
Your other hand, though, sneaks right past his control and before he can even register the movement, your fingers are laced around his member.
His mouth opens in a silent moan as you trace his length with your warm finger and a wicked smirk twists your lips.
You buckle your hips forward and hook your legs around his own, trapping him right in front of your sex and barely a few inches away from being exactly where you need him to be the most.
“I don’t remember saying you could touch me,” he grunts, trying to regain the control over the situation and assess his dominating role anew.
“Are you complaining?” You ask in a whisper as you guide his cock towards your sex whilst still coaxing it into erection with the slow movements of your fingers.
His sex meets your swollen and dripping lips and they engulf it nicely, coating it with your arousal as you stroke him with both your flushed flesh and your lavish fingers.
One of his hands flies to your face and grasps both of your cheeks, squeezing them until you lift your gaze up to him.
“Don’t forget who is in charge here, peach,” his voice is low and it makes you shiver for all the right reasons and damn, you have never desired to disobey someone’s orders as much as you do now. There is this part of you that relishes in the thought of Taehyung punishing you and it’s that emerging side of you that makes your hand move faster on his sex with a taunting smile on your lips.
“Are you?” You ask, lifting your chin up against his grasp, “Then show me.”
His hand leaves your face to slap away the one around his cock with a sound smack that stings your skin and makes your insides twitch.
“After I’m done with you, you will think again before defying me,” he promises with a growl before slapping your sex, rough and strong.
You yelp in surprise, pain and excitement all mixing into one and you can do nothing to hide the way your body quivers at his touch nor the way your breath has turned quick and shallow in anticipation for what is out to come.
His hand slaps your sex again and you moan loud for him, tilting your head backward as your eyes close, your mind unable to focus on neither the pain nor the pleasure.
When your eyelids flutter open again you are quick to notice the way his cock is fully erected now, finally awoken by the sounds of your mouth and the ones of your battered sex, aching for his touch.
“Lie on your back,” he instructs and this time you follow suit, shivering as the cooling surface of the counter is flushed against your feverish skin.
“You are not allowed to come until I tell you so, do you understand?”
A sound of frustration leaves your lips at the thought of having to hold back and, a part of you wonders if you are even capable of doing so.
“Do you understand?” He repeats, his voice sounding strict and rough, almost mad, and you wet your lips before nodding your head eyes. This time, you do not want to think about what his punishment would be like for, a part of you already knows you wouldn’t be able to endure it. Especially not now that you are already so desperate for release.
Taehyung’s cock intrudes your sex without any warning and your eyes close at the sensation whilst a grunt escapes your lips. You cannot conceal the way his girth stings inside of you when it happens so quickly and all at once, allowing you very little room to adjust.
Taehyung stays still inside of you, coaxing your sex with the movement of his fingers on your clit, urging your walls to relax around him.
A sigh erupts from your parted lips and you close your eyes, willing your body to relax and let his fingers do their work on you.
“Just like that, peach, take a big deep breath for daddy,” his face conceals perfectly well how hard he is struggling to keep himself still but his voice fails to do so, reaching your ears in a gruff and strained tone.
You want to see that wall he has put on crumble and show what’s really hiding behind it, you want to see his face morph into one of pleasure and you want to be the one responsible for it.
You move your hips upwards, ignoring the sting that comes with it just to make him flinch, lose his composure and simply fuck you like he so evidently desires to.
“Careful, peach, or you won’t be able to walk once I’m done with you,” he grunts, stilling the movements of your hips with his strong hands, his eyes burning with both desire and displeasure.
“Who said I want to?” You ask in a whisper and oh, do your words shoot right through his barrier, making it crumble like a castle’s tower under the force of a cannonball.
Taehyung rolls his hips into you and you whimper for him, a fine mixture of both pain and pleasure. Up until this moment, you had no idea you had a thing for pain and being used by someone but Taehyung sparks all of this within you and, soon enough, that subtle pain is subdued by arousal, need and, furthermore, pleasure at its finest.
His pace is slow, calculated, but the way his hips push into yours is not delicate nor sweet at all. It’s raw passion and it makes you sigh and whimper for him, it makes your body quiver and contract and it’s marvelous to discover what sex can feel like, what it should feel like and, for a brief moment, you find yourself hanging on the verge of tears.
Taehyung’s charcoal eyes stare into your own and a playful smirk tugs on his lips as he notices the way your eyes shine with unshed tears and the way you can’t help but voice out your pleasure for anyone nearby to hear.
“Does it feel good, peach?” He asks, voice slightly taunting but you can’t find it in yourself to think of a witty rebuttal, not when your thoughts are all hazy and rendered inconclusive by the pressure between your legs.
“Y-yes,” you whimper out and he attaches his swollen lips to the feverish skin of your neck, sucking on the supple flesh with such force you know you are going to bare the signs of this encounter in the morning.
Taehyung seems to be able to read your body to perfection: he grants you what you need before you can even ask for it, he kisses and touches every inch of skin that could add fuel to the burning fire building within you, he says lewd words that he knows are going to arouse you even more. So, it does not come as a surprise that he can tell when you are going to come as well.
“You’re not allowed to come just yet,” he says and you whimper in frustration, your voice pleading because after craving an orgasm for so long in your life, you simply do not want to postpone that heaven-like feeling any longer.
“Please,” you plea, your eyes searching for his and he halts his movements in response, drawing a strangled grunt out of you.
“Now, now, you spent all your life waiting for this, what’s a minute longer?” He teases, his index finger tracing the expanse of your chest and you swear to God, if your pending orgasm wasn’t on the line, you’d be biting that finger off of his hand right about now.
“Taehyung,” you whimper miserably and he seeks your eyes, tilting his head to the side as he notices a tear running down your left cheek, the orgasm denial hitting you far more than he must have anticipated for he frowns and then pouts, deep in thought.
His mouth opens, his lips shaping into the words he wants to say but something in your eyes seems to suggest him otherwise and, before you know it, his dick is firmly stroking your walls anew, the pace relentless as he seeks out the pleasure you begged him for.
Your breath hitches, your back arches for him and your eyes close as you lose yourself into the feeling of being owned anew. Tonight you discover it’s a feeling quite intoxicating and one you desire with all your being to experience more and more.
“Is it coming, peach?” He asks in a grunt, your walls contracting around him affecting him more than he would ever care to admit and you sigh out a ‘yes’ before your whole body starts to quiver, the orgasm almost taking you by surprise, washing over your entire body like an electric shock.
You do not realize the moans and whimpers that fill the silence of the room are your very own until your eyes are opening again, the over-stimulation between your legs drowning out the last remains of your climax.
“Fuck, that was hot,” Taehyung whispers mostly to himself, his pupils extremely dilated with excitement and all of it makes you feel greatly empowered because he is not immune to you at all, just as much as you are evidently not immune to him.
Your thoughts are scattered by his hands, suddenly grabbing your hips, and the instant loss of his dick within your sex. Your mouth opens to voice out a question but the words die in your mouth as soon as you understand where his intentions lay.
You follow the quick and rough guide of his hands and turn around for him, pushing your chest down to meet the cold surface of the counter, partly sleek with the results of your arousal.
You arch your back a little, pushing your butt out for him to have better access to your sex and that is all it takes from your part for him to intrude your core anew, battering your sensitive spot with grand precision whilst chasing his own release.
One of his hands grabs your hair roughly, pulling upwards until your neck is tilted backward and you can almost see his face and the way it morphs with pleasure.
You bite down your lip as you drink up all the sounds he makes and the ones that come from your squelching sex, fully welcoming him with a new coat of arousal. You had no idea people could come so many times in a single night but as he pounds in and out of you, you feel the golden sensation spreading through your limbs anew, making you whimper and contract for him.
“Listen to yourself,” he huffs, his voice almost trembling with the effort to keep his pace steady, “Mewling for my cock like a slut.”
You groan in response, closing your eyes as you push your hips back to meet his own, eager to make him come as vigorously as you did.
“Yes, like that peach, fuck my cock until I fill you whole... would you like that, uh? To feel my hot cum inside of you.”
“Y-yes,” you whimper out, forcing your hips to meet his relentless pace, smacking your butt onto his firm stomach.
“Look at you,” he presses forward, “Already turned into a cock-slut.”
The orgasm arrives with enough force to knock the air out of your lungs, his words ringing in your ears as you tremble under his body.
Even with your mind adrift in heaven, you can sense the way his hips start to stagger, losing their tempo as he meets his own release.
Taehyung’s moans are rough and deep and they quickly morph into the sound of your name. The warm feeling that spreads within your chest at the sound has nothing to do with pleasure and everything to do with fondness. It is a dangerous feeling, you realize it immediately but, as soon as he’s hugging you close to his chest, struggling to balance his breathing and calm the quick pace of his heart, you let every rational thought hide back in the recess of your mind.
The minutes tick by in silence, only your mingling breaths filling up the room as you both gain back the control over your own limbs and it’s with the definite end of the blissful feelings that what happened tonight dawns to you. You had sex with your best friend over a bet. Hell, you lost the bet and this means this, right here, is only the beginning.
Panic surges quickly through your body and in the span of a few seconds you untangle yourself from him and dress back up at the best of your abilities.
“Why are you running away, ___?”
The sound of your name almost sounds foreign on his mouth when he has spent the entire night calling you everything but.
“I can’t exactly spend the night here, can I?” You ask, opening your arms to make him aware of the fact that this, despite your recent activities, is still a shop and very far from being a bedroom.
“Fair.” He says, leaning to the counter with one of his shoulders, smirking as he watches you get back into your shoes, ready to leave.
“You do realize you lost our bet, right?” He asks, a smirk firmly drawn on his lips, “You’ll have to keep your promise.”
“You motherfucking pig,” you hiss, picking up your purse ready to throw it at him, “I fucking hate you.”
He gingerly laughs, shaking his head with that annoying smirk still plastered all over his features, “You don’t hate all of me, though.”
His eyes take a quick lock to his cock and you roll your eyes, feigning to be gagging on thin air but you both know, you don’t even mean half of the resentment you are displaying to him.
As you turn on your heels and basically run to the door the only sound that accompanies you is his laugh and the embarrassment that it induces within you.
The sound of the door closing roughly behind your back is what ultimately cuts down that laugh and you sigh with relief, briskly walking away from Taehyung’s shop with your heart hammering in your chest for all the wrong reasons — will twenty hours be really this excruciatingly slow to pass?
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