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#bts angst
personasintro · a day ago
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monachopsis | 07
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↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; after receiving unpleasant news that doesn’t allow you to grow your family, your husband comes up with an idea that unfortunately involves his brother whom he despises
⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: tattoo artist!yoongi x reader
⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: angst, fluff, smut, mini series
⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, rough sex, sex against the wall, shower sex, unprotected sex, handjob, dirty talk, slow and soft sex, dom!yoongi
⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 13.4k+
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You've come to Yoongi's tattoo shop by car.
The area where it's situated isn't gated and not exactly safe, it's not as awful as it might look or sound and there are definitely worse areas around and in Seoul, worth being wary of your surroundings even in this relatively safe country with a low crime rate. It doesn't mean there's no crime though. So you prefer to use your car, especially in the dark evenings.
Though, you haven't expected Yoongi's mouth on you so soon, wrecking you in a span of a few minutes as you barely walked out of the building. Noticing the wobbly legs and your embarrassed gaze, he offered to drive you both with his car instead.
“Chill out, I'll drive you here after so you can get your car.”
That's what he has said and you agreed.
There had been no way you could've driven – not in your state.
You're not sure you've ever felt such tension before with anyone else. He hasn't even touched you during the ride to his home, yet whenever you sneaked a glance his way to see him sitting lazily in his seat, driving with one hand while the veins popped up under the skin. The memories of what happened at his studio to wondering what's going to happen and with the sight of him looking irresistible, have made it uncomfortable and sleek between your thighs the entire ride.
Along with guilt, lust wins over and you're completely mesmerized by the man that leads you into his dark apartment, the welcoming and pleasant scent of oranges and cinnamon fills your nostrils once he opens the front door and pushes you inside. The scent is a complete opposite of the unpleasant smell of mold in the hallway. But there's not enough time for you to dwell on it any further, not when your back is pushed against the wall and a surprised gasp leaves your mouth, soon swallowed by Yoongi's hungry mouth.
Moaning, you feel him press his hard length into you, hands roaming over your body until he grabs you by your thigh and lifts it up to his hip.
“You want me to fuck you against the wall?” he asks darkly against your lips, your closed eyes opening as they darken by his proposition.
“Yes,” Comes out your response in a hushed whisper.
You've never been so driven by lust before – and here you thought you've never experienced it before. You thought you and Yeonseok have always been wild, just good enough to make you enjoy every sex you had. But what you're doing with Yoongi can't even be described by words.
He hikes your skirt up skilfully and quickly, momentarily dropping your leg down while you help him get rid of his jeans. Pulling it just enough for him to take his boxers with it, you don't get the time to wrap your hand around his cock, both of you too desperate to feel each other. The denied orgasm is crushing down on you once again and once Yoongi wraps your thigh around his hip again, you wrap your arms around his neck tugging him closer.
His tip grazes your clit for a few seconds before your panties are pushed aside, his cock entering you in one slow movement as you moan out loud, eyes rolling back at the good stretch. Finally.
Thrusting into you, you shamelessly whimper and gasp, uncaring of anyone possibly hearing you since you're right next to his front door. He's fucking you against the wall just like you wished, you ass crushed against it as Yoongi sets a ruthless pace. You barely hold yourself, thankful for his body you have a tight grip on. It's a literal mess between your thighs, the sound of your wetness and Yoongi's length join to your moans and Yoongi's rushed and hard breathing. Walls tighten around him, you tug harder on his hair which causes a groan to bubble in his throat.
“Fuck, this feels so good.” you manage to choke, not recognizing your voice and the neediness it undoubtedly has.
Much to your dismay, Yoongi suddenly pulls out and you open your mouth in shock, hoping it's not one of his punishments because you can't take it.
You're turned around faster than light, a cold wall now touching the entire side of your face and palms that went there automatically, in a fear of colliding dangerously with the wall. He gives you no time to question him before he enters you again from behind, the new angle and position making you see starts. This time he fucks you the entire time, his lower stomach pressing to your ass and lower back each time he fucks his hips into you. Sneaking his hand between your thighs, he locates your clit and starts rubbing it which is your ultimate end until you're finally allowed to break apart.
The orgasm is so powerful that for a moment everything gets blurry, your entire mind a dark fog meanwhile your and his body is all you can feel. You can't even tell apart your soft whimpers that you make once Yoongi's thrusts don't falter, Yoongi grunting behind you before he finally spills inside and coats your warm walls.
He stays pressed behind you, his palm slapping beside your face as he holds himself up, breathing heavily with you. “You good?” he asks breathlessly.
All you can offer him is a weak nod.
He doesn't like that. He can't see your face in the darkness and all he hears is your rushed breathing, body trying to calm down as your lungs beg for more air. He pulls out of you, quickly caging his cum with your panties before it can all drip down your legs and on the floor. Your legs are weak, though Yoongi has a tight grip on you as he stretches and turns on the lights.
You're a mess. Even a bigger one than you were when you sucked his cock. Your entire make-up is ruined, a sight he gets to see once he spins you around and makes sure you can stand on your own. He tucks himself back in, not bothering to adjust your hiked up skirt as you stare at him through hooded tired eyes.
“You sure you good?” His brows scrunch together, sharp gaze searching your face as you let out a breathy chuckle.
“Yeah,” you tell him, “That was quick.” you comment, trying to straighten and much to your embarrassment, you wobble a little which makes him spring into action as he catches you by your forearm.
He clears his throat, still holding you just in case before he looks back at you. “I'm still not done with you.”
He is not?
Yoongi notices your widened eyes, lips twitching as he lets you go. “Go clean up. I'm gonna grab you a glass of water.”
You open your mouth but he's gone. He takes off his shoes and leaves you standing in his small entryway. Blinking a few times, you collect yourself and tug down your skirt, messily taking off your own shoes as you make your way to the familiar bathroom.
Cleaning up the mess between your thighs, you flash the toilet as you wash your still slightly shaky hands. You can't believe how intense that orgasm just was. Your body is still in a shock, your legs were shaking the entire time you sat down on the toilet. You want to chuckle at yourself, not believing in what a fucked up state you're right now but the laugh dies down in your throat when you see your reflection in the mirror.
Holy shit.
No wonder he looked so amused.
You barely make yourself look presentable again before a knock is heard, Yoongi pushing the door open before you can even give him a response – a glass of water in his hand just like he promised.
“You didn't wait. What if I was naked?” you ask, an embarrassment downing right on you as soon as you say it.
The corner of his lips twists up for a moment. “I've seen it all.”
That's his excuse? If you wanted to be a smart-mouthed, you would actually give him a piece of your mind how impolite that is, regardless if he has seen you naked or not. But to be honest, you're too tired and fucked out to even hold a pointless argument.
He thrusts the glass into your hands and you take it without any words.
“Thanks.” you tell him before you empty the entire glass in one go.
Giving you a nod, he simply turns around and leaves again – leaves you standing there as a sigh makes it out of your mouth, hand squeezing the empty glass. Turning off the lights, you join him in the living room as he mindlessly swipes through his phone. You think he's ignoring you and for a moment you think whether you should leave or not. He said he's not done with you, so that means he probably wants you to stay.
But then he suddenly asks you what food you prefer and you realize he hasn't been ignoring you, but trying to order food for you. Ignoring the shock on your face, he annoyingly sighs and stares at you, causing you to blurt out the first thing that comes out of your mouth. It's not even your favorite choice but you don't find the courage to correct yourself, nor tell him anything else.
He orders the food, even pays for it and places the order in front of you once it arrives.
“Eat,” he says curtly, your brows pinching together at the demanding tone. But you find your mouth quickly shut once he adds; “You'll need it.”
And you dig in, not realizing just how hungry the sex made you feel.
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Yoongi doesn't waste any time. He barely lets you rest after food before he fucks you on his couch on all fours. You barely hold yourself as he thrusts into you with deep and fast movements, one hand gripping your hair while the other holds you by your hip, making sure you're not running away because of his thrusts.
You come twice, the second time happens when he starts rubbing your clit, telling you to give him another orgasm – his deep voice and big cock doing the job for you. You barely stand on your feet, letting him lead you to the bathroom as he prepares the water for you. To your surprise, he joins you and you don't question it. He helps to clean you, leaving your intimate bits for you to clean them.
No one mutters a word, the sounds of falling water echoing in his small bathroom as the scent of him, his shower gel, coats your and his skin. When you turn around and meet his dark eyes already staring at you, the air gets suffocating and the breath catches in your throat. Something sparks inside you and you scoot closer to him, how much the tiny shower allows you. Hands on his chest, you brush them against his warm and pale skin, still looking straight into his eyes as he watches you. Your nipples brush against his skin, already hardened from the water.
“What are you doing?” he asks with a low tone, sounding curious rather than annoyed or anything negative.
“Touching you.” you answer softly and smartly.
He exhales a chuckle, slowly leading you to the wall as your ass and back meets the cold tiles. His eyes travel your entire face, studying you with his cat-shaped eyes. His hardening length pokes you into your lower stomach, your hand automatically going to squeeze him as you pump him slowly, head tilted up as your eyes darken.
“What are you smirking at?” you ask breathlessly, noticing his smirk as he places his hand against the tiles beside your head where he leans.
“You.” he answers simply, grinning down at you as you bite into your lip.
His thumb catches your lower lip, causing you to let go as he caresses the soft moisturized skin. It only takes a few seconds before he leans down and presses your lips against his in a deep kiss. It's insane how many butterflies this man can give you and it should scare you. In a certain way it does – but you're in some sort of trance whenever he touches you, all the deep thoughts floating somewhere at the back of your mind.
“Don't you have enough?” he asks when he pulls away, just enough for you to catch a breath, though he's barely an inch away.
“I should be asking you the same thing,” you offer, squeezing his shaft a little which makes his breath hitch before he gives you a lazy smirk. “Look who's hard.”
“And you're wet.” he points out with a chuckle which makes you bite back your own smile.
“Of course I am, we are showering.” you cheekily remark and for the first time ever, you hear a genuine laugh that sounds so soft as it ripples out of his throat.
And you just stare, not being able to look away as you are equally no longer able to force back the soft smile.
“You're so cheeky.” he comments deeply, forehead touching yours as he grabs you by your thigh and hoists it up to his hip.
Gulping, you stare with drunken gaze though you're completely sober. Sometime in the middle, you let go of his length and he positions it at your entrance, slowly filling you up. The moan echoes between the bathroom tiles as Yoongi's grip on you thightens. One push inside and he's already fucking you again in a decent pace, your warm and wet walls welcoming him once again. You're going to be so sore tomorrow, if not right after he's done with you but you could care less. The euphoric feeling he's bringing you is not something you decline.
You've never had so much sex in one day and you know it's going to take a toll on your body later. Actually, you're quite surprised by Yoongi's stamina and the fact he seems to have no problem getting it up. In a way it makes you confident, or it's just his body but you would like to think you have at least a little part in it as well.
Barely able to stand on your feet, Yoongi's body cages you between his and the wall, picking up his pace while you shamelessly moan and breathe heavily every time he brushes your sweet spot. How were you even able to enjoy sex before?
“Look at you, so wet,” he chuckles into your ear, the water hitting your bodies and tiles the only sound that accompanies his deep and raspy voice. “By the showering of course.”
You even laugh a little, wincing right after he gives you a rough thrust.
“Lying is a sin, princess.”
Shamelessly moaning, you bite into your lower lip harshly as he doesn't give you the time to respond, nor you would because you're already in the completely fucked out state. Wet skin meeting yours, you swear you can see stars by the time Yoongi brings you over the edge and your legs quiver, back sliding down the wall as he grips you so roughly you almost wince. But it feels good, adding just the right pinch to your already happening orgasm as he soon follows you after and fills you up.
You both breathe heavily, Yoongi's hands slowly loosening around you as he checks on you. “You okay?”
You feel your heart and lungs in your throat, his voice seems like a white noise for a moment as you offer him a slow nod.
“Okay,” he says, and you swear for a moment he sounds untrusting as if your answer wasn't good enough.
Staying leaned against the wall, you watch Yoongi apply another layer of his shower gel to his palm before his hands are on you again. This time is nothing sexual, not leading to anything deeper than just hm washing your skin. The whole time he doesn't even look at you, brows pinched as he washes your stomach. He pulls away and you think he's finished, however he reaches out of the shower and pulls out a cloth. It's wet by the water immediately but he doesn't seem to look as if he cares, not when you realize the cloth is one of his clean shirts he pulled out for himself.
Surprisingly, he reaches between your thighs and silently without any words, he tells you to spread them apart, just enough for him to wash his cum there and you easily comply. It's hard to describe it but you barely have the strength to do that yourself, so whatever he does – and the fact he's taking care of you after having sex – you find yourself not being shaken by it.
Once he's finished he quickly washes himself and turns off the water. He helps you get out of the shower, his touch gentle as he holds you by your hand with a towel already prepared for you. He wraps you as if you were a baby in it, the small bathroom foggy from the hot water you've used up. You dry yourself with shaky hands, barely paying attention to him as he takes care of himself in a few minutes. You do notice him getting out of the bathroom in a pair of fresh boxers, the rest of the skin completely exposed to you once he comes back holding clothes for you. They're not yours, you realize.
“These are fresh,” he clears his throat, “I don't think you should drive home in this state.”
You weakly nod, knowing you'll fall asleep as soon as your body hits the bed's mattress. You can't possibly imagine driving back home – he is right.
“Stay over for the night. I'll drive you to your car tomorrow, Yeonseok is away anyway, right?”
The mention of your husband makes your throat run dry, the painful lump swallowed as you stare at Yoongi's frowned and focused face. You only nod, agreeing as he gives you a nod. Leading you to his bedroom, he informs you the sheets are fresh but you don't waste any time to care about that stuff, your body slouching on the mattress like a lifeless doll.
Yoongi's lips twitch at the sight but he gives you a concerned look you fail to notice, eyes already closed as you weakly try to cover your body with the duvet. The sheets smell like an orange, the scent sweet and soft and it reminds you of…
Though you open your eyes, fighting back the exhaustion that is caused by the man who's currently holding the other pillow, ready to leave.
“Where are you going?”
“I'm gonna sleep on the couch.” he answers completely casually, rummaging through his closet and you think he's trying to search for another cover or a blanket.
“Why don't you stay here?” you ask, his movements halting a little before he looks across his shoulder with a raised brow. “The couch is small and uncomfortable for sure anyway.”
“I didn't want to make you uncomfortable or something.” he admits rather casually, not sounding sheepish even a bit as his honesty makes the corner of your lips lift up in a lazy small.
“Come on, it's just sleeping. It doesn't have to be weird. Something tells me you'd be grumpy the next morning if I let you sleep on the couch.”
Yoongi chuckles, closing the door of his closet as he shrugs. “Fine.”
He gets under the covers and reaches for the night lamp, wanting to turn off the light but not before he quickly sneaks a glance at your cuddled up form turned to him. Your eyes are closed, he's not sure if you're sleeping but it doesn't matter. There's nothing much to say anyway. He turns it off without a thought, trying to find a comfortable position and not overthink the fact he is in the bed with his brother's wife. Well, just in bed sleeping together which seems awfully domestic. He's not the one to overthink things and he either doesn't want to overthink this too.
“G'night.” you sleepily murmur, making a rustling sound with your body as Yoongi opens his mouth and just stares at the dark ceiling for a moment.
“Yeah… night.” he murmurs, having the urge to turn away.
And he does, his back turned to you as he stays awake for a longer time despite his own exhaustion slowly catching up to him.
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The last thing you remember before you dozed off was the fresh scent that has clinged to your skin, reminding you of Yoongi's shower gel along with the nice scent of his equally fresh sheets that hugged your body. And you're sure there was big enough of a space between your bodies until the exhaustion took over you.
It takes you a moment and a few moments of dozing off over and over again, to realize the warmth behind you is not the usual warmth you feel on other nights. Along with the new yet addicting scent of his home. Memories catch up to you, slowly but they do, as the throb between your thighs and body ache cannot be ignored.
Yoongi is not a cuddler, at least you wouldn't peg him for one. You don't find him suddenly hugging you in his sleep, yet he's so close you feel his hot and slow breath on the back of your neck. You're tired, have no idea how long you have been sleeping for and what time it is, however something keeps you awake. Your body screams for sleep but your mind seems to be fully awake as you replay the unforgettable touches and the lustful memories with the man who's lying next to you.
It's raining outside, you notice as the first droplets fall against the bedroom's window that's hidden behind a dark curtain. Shifting on your spot, you realize you scooted even closer to the sleeping man who mumbles something in his sleep. Tensing, you wait until no other sound can be heard which confirms he's still sleeping.
You haven't changed your phone ever since you met up with Yoongi. For fuck sake, your husband might've texted you or called you and you wouldn't even know. The guilt rises in your throat and you painfully swallow the familiar lump all over again, desperately trying to ignore the ache in your chest. You lay there for god knows how long, staring at the dark ceiling that turned to be even clearer now that your eyes got used to the darkness.
Something doesn't feel right. You try to dodge it, not wanting to overthink in the middle of the night, especially when you should be getting some sleep before you'll be forced to go back home. Where you belong. You don't belong here. Not in Yoongi's apartment and definitely not in his bed. You should've gone home. You shouldn't have agreed with him when he offered you to sleep at his place.
You know he had no ill intention. He already fucked you enough this day to care about that stuff. He simply didn't want you to drive back home when you could've barely stood on your feet. In fact, you appreciate his thoughtfulness because he surely doesn't have to be a gentleman.
“Can you stop squirming? I can't sleep.”
Almost jumping at the grumpy and incredibly deep raspy voice, you hold your breath as you stay turned with your back to the man behind you. Shit, your endless squirming woke him up. You didn't even realize you were doing it again.
“Sorry.” you mutter, annoyed at yourself for how soft and weak you sound.
Yoongi sighs and a quick glance across your shoulder, you notice his rubbing his face and running a tired hand through his hair. He drops his hand, almost on top of your hip which makes him freeze once he realizes how little space is between you two. If any.
“Why are you awake? Thought you're tired.” he continues, acting as if the close proximity isn't suddenly so awkward.
“I don't know,” you admit, though it feels like a lie. You're tired, so tired but your mind won't let you sleep.
Turning around in a hope to put some space between you two, you almost squeak out once your noses almost bump into each other. If you could see his features clearly, you would see the brief annoyance crossing over them but luckily for you, you're left with the embarrassment only as you mutter out an apology.
You shift slightly back, still not enough to put the needed space between your bodies but you don't seem to care about that too much.
“Sorry for waking you up.” you whisper, noticing he's fully awake now despite the evident tiredness in his voice.
“Stop apologizing,” He definitely sounds annoyed now. “Are you cold?” he asks suddenly, a wonder laced in his careless voice.
“No?” You sound surprised and confused just as you feel causing him to sigh.
You squeak for real this time as you feel his hand on your leg that has sneaked under the covers. He doesn't laugh at your reaction, though you're sure he would have enjoyed this if he wasn't so tired and well, annoyed at the interruption of his sleep that has happened thanks to you.
Your legs are nowhere near cold, the opposite actually. Your skin is hot for numerous reasons, mostly you, trying to shield yourself in this darkness for a good feeling which hasn't arrived yet. His hand is just as warm, big on your leg as he squeezes your flesh. Gasping, you give him enough of a reaction for him to smirk at.
Instead of pushing him away once he starts palming your naked flesh, you press yourself to him and feel the noticeable bulge growing in his boxers. His chest and abs feel warm against your palm, your own hands roaming across his muscles as you unspeakably yearn for more of his touch. You really should distance yourself from him, the sex you had a few hours ago should be enough and your body needs to rest. But it doesn't feel enough. You want more.
So much more than the light but burning touch on your thigh. So when he squeezes your asscheek rather harshly yet slowly, you shamelessly start to palm his covered bulge and let out an audible moan.
“You sure you don't want to sleep?” he asks amusingly, fingers playing with the hem of his boxers that you're wearing as you quickly shake your head at him.
“Definitely not.” you assure him. There is no way you can just go back to sleep.
You help him get rid of the boxers as they slide over your legs before you both carelessly throw them away. Everything happens fast, you don't waste any time however the moment still remains slow just as much as the tender touches that are filled with nothing but lust and want. He grabs you by your thigh, hoists it up his hip and momentarily pulls his hard cock out of his boxers, not bothering to take them off before you feel the tip at your entrance.
The moment he pushes inside of you, your warm and tight walls welcome him as usual but the whimper that's caused by the soreness causes him to tense as he stops all his movements.
“Are you sore?” he asks, a deep voice filling the thick air between you.
“Yes,” you offer him an answer, “But keep going.”
Your hand clasped around his shoulder, you squeeze it and usher him to continue, though he doesn't look too convinced. At least you think so, judging by the fact he is not moving. The position itself isn't the most comfortable in the world, your other leg is outstretched and you lay on your side, making it look as if you're clinging to him like a koala.
“I'm gonna go slow.” he mutters and before you could offer him any other response than a mere nod, he's already pushing himself inside of you.
Just like he promised, he is slow and gentle and you do everything in your power not to let that mess with your head. You try to convince yourself by thinking this is what he should do. You're sore and he shouldn't go hard on you. It's the bare minimum men shouldn't be praised for. But something about this particular man makes you think differently. And it's just another reason for you to hate yourself.
Your face is buried in his neck as he brings pleasure mixed with pain each thrust, shallow but gentle, your moans silenced by his hot skin while the covers slide off your bodies eventually. Not even the slightly chilly air makes you shiver, you feel like you're burning. Not only physically. Burning with passion, lust and you can't wrap your head around this once again, not believing how a single act of sex can feel this good.
Everything feels too good. The piercing brushing against your sensitive spot, your walls wrapping around every inch of him, him filling you to the brim and the movements way calmer than what you're used to. Even Yoongi's heavy breathing makes this entire moment even more romantic. The soreness somewhere in the very end, you let pleasure control your senses as you once again take everything Yoongi gives you.
You reach the orgasm first, hips rolling into his before you freeze and let your body shudder right after. Yoongi picks up the pace and you swallow down your whimpers, wanting him to reach his end as well. He follows suit, thrusts halting as a spurge of thick  and warm cum fills you up. Staying inside of you, both of you in your even more dazed state than earlier, you both try to catch breath. His hardened cock starts softening, his cum already ready to spill down your legs as you quickly get out of the bed.
Not looking around, you navigate your way through the darkness and to the bathroom to clean yourself, not bothering to turn on the lights on your way there. The light in the bathroom is sharp and you try hard not to stare at your reflection in the mirror. You do catch your sight though, the face and skin glowing from the sex despite your tiredness. Washing your hands after taking care of the mess between your thighs, you take a mental note to take a proper shower in the morning. You've no strength to do anything else other than join Yoongi in his bed once again, this time making sure you actually get some sleep.
You're surprised when Yoongi is still awake, despite you not taking too long in the bathroom anyway. He still asks if you're okay and you assure him that yes, you're okay indeed with a loud yawn.
“Get some sleep.” he says after chuckling.
You hum, cuddling to his sheets once again and completely forgetting about your underwear in the form of Yoongi's boxers that are still laying somewhere on the floor. But in this moment, it doesn't matter as you drift to sleep the moment you close your eyes.
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“We have to stay one more day longer here, I'm sorry. But I'll make it up to you once I get home. What about dinner at our favorite spot? I can make reservations.”
The face of your husband lights up the screen of your laptop as you play with the wet ends of your hair, giving him a reassuring smile that it's okay. He was supposed to come home tonight, late but you still wanted to wait for him. Either it's your own guilt, you feel this urge to spend more time with him and focus solely on him.
Him and no one else.
It's been only a few hours since Yoongi dropped you off in your car and you feel like you're even a bigger mess. Left alone, not only with your thoughts but memories as well, some of them physical as Yoongi's touch remains on your skin even if you spent an entire hour in the bath. You smell like your shower gel and the sweet bath bomb you treated yourself with, no longer smelling him like you still could this morning.
Selfishly, it crosses your mind that it's a good thing you and Yeonseok are not intimate. This way he can't see Yoongi's fingertips and little bruises he engraved into your skin. Not only do you see it but you can feel it as well, the goosebumps rising while your throat gets dry. The entire ride was spent in silence, other than the brief goodbye and you muttering a single 'thanks', no words were exchanged. None of you talked about last night, though you're not sure if there's something to talk about. You had sex in the middle of the night – there's no way to analyze it any further. Still, it leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.
Stubbornly, you hate to admit you don't feel pleased how your last interaction went and the lack of communication has taken a toll on you. You couldn't even enjoy your bath for fuck sake. And you love taking a bath!
“Honey, are you listening to me?”
Yeonseok's voice brings you back, reminding you of his presence as you see a concern written on his face.
“Yes, that sounds great.” you smile at him, trying to hide your disappointment of having to wait another day to see him. You don't know what you think. Maybe seeing him and actually having him here will make you feel better. You hoped it would bring your mind back to its place.
“I'm really sorry. I will make it up to you, I promise.”
You know he will.
But you don't want him to make it up to you. You just want him here.
You have to blink away the tears, luckily for you he informs you of having to attend the meeting that's happening in a few minutes, and you hope he doesn't see the facade you put on through the screen. Exchanging the usual “I love you's” you clasp the laptop shut as you frustratedly stare around the spacious living room.
There's no time to overthink, you choose not to as there is a more important matter you should deal with. Your phone is nowhere to be found and you swear you had it with you last night. Actually, you're sure you had it on the ride here which means you lost it on your way here. Maybe it's in your car, you have to go and check it. If it wasn't for Yeonseok trying to contact you through facetime and questioning where your phone is, you wouldn't be able to figure out you don't have your phone with you.
So lost in your mind, you couldn't even check if you got your things with you. So stupid and irresponsible!
Ready to go to the garage to check the car, you barely make it through the living room where the doorbell rings. Pinching your brows together, you get the door and open them to reveal the one man that you've been trying not to think about ever since you last saw him. He knocks the breath out of you, a silent gasp leaving your mouth as you stare at him wide-eyed.
Meeting his sharp eyes, they dance on your surprised expression as he cocks his head to the side, not hiding the amused smile.
“What are–how did you know where I live?”
He snorts, pulling out something from the back pocket of his jeans. Your phone. He holds it with his thumb and point finger, shooting you a shameless grin. “Aren't you looking for something?”
You snatch it from his hand, clutching the device to your chest. “I was in the car when it kept buzzing, thought it was my phone. Turns out it was my brother trying to reach you.”
“You didn't pick it up, did you?” you ask right away, not hiding the distress as Yoongi raises his brow at you.
“No,” he responds and you visibly relax. “You're welcome.”
It's not that big of a deal. Yeonseok didn't ask you about your whereabouts and you settled on not talking about you and Yoongi, and about how things are going, but the thought of Yoongi picking your phone when Yeonseok was calling makes you almost shit your pants. This whole situation is turning into even a bigger disaster.
“Should I thank you for not picking up my phone?” you scoff, his grin stretching even more as he rolls his eyes at you.
“You're welcome that I brought you the phone.” he corrects and your face heats up in embarrassment.
“Ah, yeah thank you,” you murmur, poking your head in his way to check the hallway.
You motion him to come inside, not really sure if inviting him to your and Yeonseok's home is the wisest decision, but you don't want any of your nosy neighbors to witness your conversation.
“You didn't answer my question earlier. How do you know where I live?” you ask him, momentarily checking your phone to see two missed calls from Yeonseok, just how he mentioned you when you video-chatted him.
“I know where my brother lives,” he clarifies, “Though I had to ask the doorman about the floor.”
“You want something to drink?”
It's the moment of silence that surprises you both. You can't believe you let your mouth run free before you think. Why would you ask him that? Why would you offer him to stay longer than it's necessary?
Yoongi looks baffled as well, searching your face for a moment as he gives you a weird look, almost sizing you up.
“It's pouring outside. Maybe some tea? Just a 'thank you' for bringing the phone to me.” It's just an excuse for the accidental spill you made but it works. It is pouring outside and has been for a while now. It started with a light shower when Yoongi drove you to your car but you barely got home until it started pouring.
“You sure?” He cocks his brow at you, his black leather jacket catching your gaze as you take a notice of the tiny droplets on top of it. Even his hair is slightly wet, you notice.
Gulping, you nod. “Yeah.”
“Okay then.” he says, though doesn't sound so sure of his response but still takes off his boots.
Not wanting to stand there and gawk at his form like a maniac, you turn around with a breath caught in your throat as you lead him through the place you call home. When you point toward the couch for him to sit on, you notice him taking a glance around but his features remain neutral. He might live in a not so good neighborhood and apartment building, but he is surely used to an expensive place when he sees it. He grew up in a wealthy family after all.
You wonder if him seeing how his brother lives brings him a bittersweet feeling. If he was a son his parents wanted him to be, he would surely live a very similar life. You might not see inside his head but you doubt he regrets the decision of wanting to live life his own way. You admire him for that. Before you got to know him, you've never thought his parents would treat any of their children like this. Used to hearing their complaints about their younger son, you've never thought about it any deeper than it was necessary.
As you're in the kitchen making Yoongi some tea, leaving him in the living room, you think of the struggles that he has to face now. Mrs. Min and Mr. Min have never treated you badly and you've grown fond of them over the years of knowing them, especially after they've become your parents-in-law. But Yoongi's story has settled a weird feeling in the pit of your stomach and the opinion you once used to have about them, has slightly changed. Despite their differences, between their morals and your own, you've thought about them more positively rather than negatively.
Now you're not so sure where you stand with them, knowing they completely missed the chance to help their son. Differences or not, he is still their son. And most importantly, they have the power and source to help him.
Completely ignoring the fact you didn't even ask him what kind of tea he wants, you just kind of disappeared to have some alone time before you have to face him again, you round the corner. You can feel his gaze on you, it's warm – almost hot – when you set the black cup on the circled coffee table.
He doesn't say anything, the lack of words causing you to glance at him as you let go of the cup. Until he makes sure you look him in the eyes before he says; “Thanks.”
“It's a herbal tea,” you awkwardly point towards the cup as you sit down a good distance from him, creating even more awkward space. If he notices it, he doesn't comment on it. “I forgot to ask you…”
“It's fine,” he chuckles, clearly noticing your weird behavior considering you're avoiding his eyes. “So… where's Yeonseok?”
Does he really care about that?
“On a business trip, I told you that,” you answer with an attitude, sighing as you frustratedly rub your forehead. What the hell is wrong with you? “He called me and said he has to stay another night there but should be back tomorrow.”
“Are you okay?” Yoongi dismisses your answer, brows frowning as you finally take a glance at him.
“Yeah?”
“You're acting weird,” he bluntly remarks, not beating around the bush. But when has he ever? “Is it because of yesterday?”
“What about yesterday?” you frown.
“You tell me,” he leans against the couch and outstretches his arm over the headrest. “Something must've happened when you're acting this weird. You weren't like this when you came to the shop.”
Observant as always, you do feel embarrassed of being called out so bluntly and openly, even if it's just the two of you. How can you explain it when you don't even understand yourself?
“Sorry,” you blurt out, “I don't know why I'm like this.” you chuckle nervously and Yoongi does the thing where he cocks his head to the side again, searching your face for some answers which only makes you shift uncomfortably in your spot.
“You sure?” He raises his brow.
“Why do you always doubt me?” you blurt out more loudly this time, glaring at the man who only shrugs.
“Because you're clearly acting weird, I'm not blind.”
He is annoying now.
And you know it's because he is right. You hate how he calls you out so carelessly, putting you out there and making you uncomfortable even more. Maybe you should face your own demons but you definitely want to clear your mind first. And you want to face them alone. Not with him close or him in your mind. But maybe that has been the problem all along.
“You don't know me.” you snap, putting up your walls again as you refuse to show how embarrassed you feel about your outburst. He hasn't done anything wrong and here you are acting like a moody bitch toward him. He literally brought you your lost phone while it's pouring outside.
This whole situation wants you to scream frustratedly.
“Right,” Yoongi bites back, straightening himself before he stands up.
You stare wide-eyed at him, not expecting him to – what is he about to do? Leave?
“I should go.”
“But your tea…” you mutter, hearing a chuckle in response.
“Yeah, thanks for the tea. I'm sure it tastes good.”
It actually doesn't. You didn't even add sugar or honey to it. You're not sure if he likes his tea bitter. You were so caught up in your thoughts to ask such an easy polite question.
“I will see myself out.” he simply says, walking away as you sit there speechless with your mouth open until you snap out of it and rush toward him.
You find him putting his boots on, an apology tumbling out of your mouth. But he only looks up for a second, murmuring 'It's fine'. He gives you no other reaction and it leaves you wondering why he is so quiet suddenly.
“No, it's not. I'm sorry for acting weird,” you press, grabbing his wrist when he's about to reach for the massive front door. He stares at your touch, brows pinched together again before he looks up at you. “You could've finished your tea. Or at least taste it.”
“Do you really wish me to be here?” he asks instead and you stutter over your words.
“Why would I not?” you ask unsurely, making him chuckle as he slowly shakes his head.
You let go of his wrist, attentively watching him as he hovers over you and twirls the damp strand of your hair around his finger. It's fascinating how quickly your heart rate picks up just from the simple act and it's another reminder of your baffled thoughts.
“I just wanted to bring you the phone. I have somewhere to be anyway.” he informs you.
Inviting him in was probably never a good idea for multiple reasons. Your home was the only place he didn't remind you of and just the fact he's here makes your mind blown for some reason. You can't explain it. It feels like a huge thing – him being in your and Yeonseok's home. God, he would flip out if he knew about this. Or would he?
“Oh.”
“Disappointed?” he smirks.
You scoff immediately, wanting to swat his hands away but something keeps you in place as you meet his gaze again.
“Oh come on,” he laughs a little, backing you into the tall wall mirror as he inches closer to you. “I was just joking.”
“You're just full of jokes, aren't you?” you swallow, eyes dropping to his lips just as his drops to yours.
“And you've got such a smart mouth, don't you?”
The energizing feeling comes back but you stay glued to your spot, not even moving an inch as his face is so close your noses almost touch.
“You figured that only now?” you manage to breathe out, a hot breath hitting your face as he chuckles before he licks his bottom lip.
“No, I know what that mouth of yours can do.”
You're sure every possible curse word crosses your mind at that sentence, the knot in your stomach shooting a spark of pleasure between your legs. Seriously, now? You were fine just a moment ago – fine in terms of not being horny.
Whatever it is that holds you back, you're grateful for it because you're a second away from dropping to your knees and showing him instead. But this is wrong. You shouldn't want to do this. He didn't come here to have sex with you. This is not part of your deal. He brought you your freaking phone and here the two of you are, glued to each other with the tension and willpower not to rip your clothes from one another.
“As much as I'd love to fuck you against this surely expensive mirror,” he says, thumb brushing against your jaw. “I really have somewhere to be,”
To your disappointment (and you shouldn't feel that!), he pulls away and so does the incredible scent of him goes with him. You stare, your fingertips staining the clear mirror for sure and it takes you a moment to let go. When Yoongi's hand reaches the doorknob, he glances at you across his shoulder and shoots you a smirk by tilting the corner of his lips.
“Thanks for the tea again. I'm sure it tastes nice, not as nice as you, though.”
The gasp that leaves your mouth is mixed with the door opening as Yoongi walks away, closing it right after he's out of your apartment. Your heartbeat is in your eardrums, a hand placed over your chest as you stare at the space where he was standing just seconds ago.
What is his deal? Is he playing with you? What was the purpose of this? And why the fact you liked it?
Why didn't you push him away?
Why did you allow him to get so close when it's outside of sex?
You glance around, the apartment swallowed in a complete silence as a picture of you and Yeonseok on one of your holidays stare back at you. You're smiling widely, back then barely even knowing about someone named Yoongi – or at least you never thought about him. Back then he was just your husband's brother, someone who couldn't even be considered as your brother-in-law. Maybe officially on the papers but that was it.
The realization slaps you right in the face and punches you in your chest. You allowed him to get close to you in your home. Home where you and Yeonseok live. Home you created with a wish of having your own family. Home which is filled with many memories of your marriage. Happy memories. And it seems all spoiled.
Before you know it, an uncomfortable sensation hurls inside your stomach and vomit gathers in your throat. You barely make it to the bathroom, emptying your stomach with tears streaming down your face. You're not sure if they're there only because of you vomiting though.
It seems like there is a deeper meaning behind them as well.
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Your flat sandals click against the not so clean floor as your footsteps echo in the empty hallway. The sounds of muted music can be heard from one of the apartments you walk by, your nose catching the smell of weed which makes your nose scrunch. You've never been a fan of that smell and with the already always lingering smell of mold, the combination is even more unpleasant – disgusting even.
After almost a month, you're at this place again and the presence of your quick heartbeat can't be ignored. You know Yoongi has no idea what you're about to tell him. There's no way he even gets an idea, considering you haven't contacted him ever since that time he visited you at your place. Each day you spent after that felt dreadful. Sleepless nights and the lack of your presence not even in general, but also in your marriage. You desperately tried to push the long overthinking away but it couldn't be done.
The guilt made you make a final decision, one that no one knows yet. It forced you to text Yoongi a simple date of today's day and time, which eventually gave you a thumbs up in return which is his usual response. You couldn't do it over the phone.
He deserves to hear this from you in person. He's involved just as much as you are. Though you feel like a bigger asshole, now that not even Yeonseok knows yet. You chose to tell Yoongi first, despite everything but you know it's the right thing to do. You need to make sure he's not fucked over because you don't want him to be. You don't want him to feel like you've used him or something. Is that even the right term? It doesn't help that you've no idea what his reaction will be.
Seeing him again in all his glory, not only in your dreams and daily thoughts, scares the fuck out of you. And you've thought about canceling today more times than you'd like to admit. But you have to do this in order for you to move on and be happy in your marriage. You'll do everything to make it up to Yeonseok – who's clearly clueless to your inner thoughts – and he can never find out.
Over the month, you've not only been emotionally unavailable but you would say unstable as well. The more you think about it, you feel sick all over again. But this is just an uncomfortable period you have to go through before everything can go back to normal. You shouldn't have–
“Hey.”
When did you knock?
Yoongi raises his brow at your silence, most likely already questioning you as you stand in front of his door in your summer dress, barely wearing any make-up. You had zero motivation to make yourself pretty. What's the point?
He probably gives zero fuck about your make-up or appearance, it's the weird vibe you've been giving off lately. As one of your good friends reminded you when you meet up with her, trying to desperately grasp the normality of your previous life.
“Hey.”
He gives you a weird look, opening the door wider for you to come in. The nostalgia you feel at the scent of his home, a complete change from the terrific smell in the hallway, is not good. As much as pleasant it is for your nose. Taking off your sandals is quick and automatic as you make a way to the living room where Yoongi leads you.
“Something to drink?” he asks politely as always, and for a moment you swear you feel your heart clench at his cluelessness and thoughtfulness at the same time.
Why do you feel bad though? You're the one who's making a big deal out of this. He'll probably not care about what you have to say to him.
“No, thanks. I won't be long.” You try to sound casual and it does come out like that, though you still check for his reaction which appears to be confusion.
“Oh,” He lets out, frowning as he fails to hide his confusion. “Do you want to–”
“Not like that,” you quickly justify, “I didn't come here to have sex.” you explain, not hiding the cringe present on your face for a moment as Yoongi plops down on the chair.
He rests his ankle over his knee, tattooed hand grazing his chin as he cocks his brow at you. Goodness.
“You didn't?” he asks slowly, “Why are you here then?”
Whatever you've prepared to tell him sounded way better in your mind. Now that you're here, his dark eyes boring into you, you're getting even more nervous and distracted all over again. It's the same lump in your throat that makes it hard to talk, your hands getting sweaty at the same time. It's too late to back out now. You have to do this.
For you.
For Yeonseok.
And for your marriage.
Whatever you've decided on, all three of you, it has to stop. And that's what you manage to get out.
“This has to stop.”
The beat of silence follows as Yoongi's hand stops and he slowly puts his leg down. He sets his elbows on top of his knees, leaning closer to you and your breath hitches, despite he's not even sitting on the same couch.
“The sex, this deal… all of it.” you add, having the urge to break the silence.
It feels weird to say it out loud – but it's oddly calming. But the feeling is short-lived before Yoongi finally opens his mouth.
“Why?”
It's a simple question, one that you can't find the right words for.
“I can't do this anymore,” you say instead, watching his frown deepen. “But don't worry, you will still get your money. I will make sure of it.”
Yoongi bitterly chuckles, “Does Yeonseok know?”
“Not yet, I'm planning to tell him tonight. I just wanted you to know first.” you admit with a murmur, nibbling on your bottom lip.
“Why?”
“I…” you start, clearing your throat. “I don't know. It felt like the right thing to do.”
You sound like an idiot, no you are. A normal wife would talk to her husband first. But you're not so normal, that much is sure.
“Are you even listening to yourself?” Yoongi scoffs and your heart drops at the sound. “What happened? I thought you wanted this. You let me fuck you so many times just for… nothing? I'm fucking confused.”
“I told you you'll get your money.”
“Fuck the money!” Yoongi snaps and you freeze in shock, finding his eyes darkening. “I asked you so many times if this is something you want to do and you said fucking yes. And now you back away?”
“Don't raise your voice at me,” you snap back, despite you're close to shivering from shock and all the emotions. “It was what I wanted, not anymore.” you bite back.
“Then what has changed? Did I do something?” he presses and you groan.
“No, you didn't.”
“Be fucking honest then. You were fucking weird when I last saw you and now you come here, ready to drop the whole plan because of what?”
“Shouldn't you be happy? You'll get what you've wanted.” you exclaim and this time Yoongi is the one who groans. He even rolls his eyes as he rubs his forehead frustratedly, the long black hair getting into his face before he brushes it off.
“Yeonseok will never agree with this,” he bites back, sounding sure of himself.
The truth is, you're not sure if he will agree. The only thing Yeonseok wants right now is the baby. You both want that but as of now, you have to take a step back and no longer see Yoongi. It's dangerous and you have to end this now.
“It's the fact I asked you and made sure you're okay with this. You even got all snappy at me for asking so many times. I just don't fucking get it. Something must've happened.”
“Nothing happened!” you yell frustratedly, taking a deep breath as you give him an apologetic look which gets ignored as he only stares at you with a big frown. “Trust me, I wanted it. You did nothing wrong, it's all me.”
He chuckles bitterly all over again as he shakes his head. “Don't give me that 'it's not you it's me' bullshit.”
“But it's the truth. This whole thing is bullshit, Yoongi. This whole plan. I realized how weird this is.”
“The last time I checked you didn't think it was weird.”
“What do you know?” you snap back, watching his cold grin drop a little. “You don't see inside my head. I knew it's weird, you're my brother-in-law for fuck sake! But I was fine with it as much as it was weird.”
“I don't believe you.”
“That's not my problem.”
“Of course it's not,” he scoffs, “You suddenly changed your mind. Was the sex not good?”
It was. Too good actually.
You don't want to admit how attracted you're to him. Not even to yourself and you surely won't tell him that. You've enjoyed everything with him, even if ninety-nine percent of it was just a pure sex. And you shouldn't have enjoyed it more than you do with your husband. That's what makes you guilty in the first place.
You love Yeonseok. You don't even know Yoongi, something which you've been reminded of everytime you not only see him, but think about him. Physical attraction and love are two different things, you're aware of that. But you just can't live with the fact you love sex with Yoongi. No one has ever made you feel like he has when it comes to sex and lust. For fuck sake, you enjoyed it so much to the point you never wanted it to end.
The sight of your birth control pills in the bathroom drawer made you almost do the stupidest thing. This is not you. You're not this stupid. You usually know what you want and like you said, you can't risk your marriage for what? A man who doesn't do relationships? Wait, this sounds completely wrong. You're not doing this only because he doesn't do relationships. Or because he doesn't want kids. You two just wouldn't work like that. Not mentioning it would be completely unfair to your husband. His brother.
Yoongi makes you feel things you can't explain and the only way to avoid it, is to end this. You were happy and content before you met Yoongi and started having sex. The only thing you wanted as a couple, you and Yeonseok, was to fill that empty spot of having your own family. A baby.
Now you can't imagine having an actual baby. Yoongi's baby.
The baby was never once considered as Yoongi's in the first place. It's just another red flag that makes you make this decision.
“It wouldn't be yours, it would be mine baby.”
You remember Yeonseok's words and the fact you called the potential baby Yoongi's makes your guilt grow to an unspeakable rate.
“It was good,” you gulp, “Yoongi, please. I enjoyed it and that's what's bad about this.” you admit shamefully.
Yoongi stares you down as he tries to wrap his head around this information. “Just so you know, I wouldn't do this if you didn't enjoyed the sex. I know I came up with the fucking part of this deal but–”
“Yoongi,” you plead, “Don't blame yourself for my decision. If anyone's to blame, it's me.”
“But why?”
“Guilt,” you tell him simply, “I just can't keep doing this to Yeonseok. It's not fair to him.”
“Hate to break it to you, but it wasn't fair of him to ask you to do this in the first place.”
“Please, let's not do this,” you plead him again, “This back and forth between you–it's exhausting and I don't want to get into it more than it's necessary. What happened, happened. We can all move on. I really appreciate what you did for us and I promise, you will get your money. I was the one who broke this deal off, not you, so it wouldn't be fair to you.”
It's hard to tell apart the expression he currently has, it overshadows his features and you can't look away no matter how much you want to.
“I'm not sure if it's fair to take the money when you–or are you?” he asks, eyes widening for a moment as they glance down at your stomach.
Your hands instinctively go there and you almost vomit here and there. You don't know and fuck, you hope you're not pregnant. You should've taken those birth control pills like you initially planned to, even if it was for different reasons. You pray to God that you're not pregnant already. You can't bring yourself to think about it.
How things changed…
Not that you don't want a baby. You do want one so bad. You've dreamed about being a mom for the longest time ever. But knowing the child would be Yoongi's, no matter what the morality you and Yeonseok would create, you just can't have that. It would be just a reminder of so many things.
You're supposed to get your period in a few days.
“No!” you exclaim, not bothering to explain to him that you don't know that for sure. “I wouldn't end it this way if I was.” you whisper, a silence swallowing the room for a moment.
Yoongi looks perplexed, like he's not sure what to do and you know what you have to do. He could easily be like “Okay good, there's no child so I will take the money” but no. He's here thinking of not taking the money because you didn't get the part of your deal. But it's fine with you. And for one reason only.
“You will take the money,” you tell him firmly, standing up to your full height as he looks up at you, still sitting up. You don't bother to remind him that he needs it. He surely knows about that and it's just a bitter reminder of his debt. “Don't waste your time trying to think what's morally right or not. You helped us either way and that shouldn't be ignored,”
As much as you hope for a response, he simply stares at you and has nothing to say. But then he gives you the slightest nod and it feels like the definite end. Things are officially over and you force yourself to send him a gentle smile. You wish you could look around his place one last time, feeling the bitter taste not only in your mouth but in your chest as well, as it brings many memories to you. All of this feels bittersweet but you can't think about it any longer. It's not right and you know it very well.
Your eyes stay on his for a little longer, not wanting to make things awkward as you lick your bottom lip. “Bye, Yoongi.”
“Yeah…” he mumbles, “Bye.”
Just like without looking around one last time, you don't waste any time to get your shoes as you quickly make it out of his apartment. The closing door and even the sound, leaves a hollow feeling in your chest. It does feel sad, despite everything.
Yoongi is not a bad man.
And this doesn't have to be sad. You shouldn't feel sad.
You're not sure if you'll ever see him again. Maybe he will appear at his parents house sometime. And you hope you'll be able to look him straight in the eyes and say “hello”. You weren't friends, you never were.
But it does feel like losing one. Despite all, not counting the mind-blowing sex, you've always felt comfortable around Yoongi.
Once again, you convince yourself this is for the best. Before things could get any messier, you have a marriage to focus on. The next thing you need to get over with is telling Yeonseok.
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“What did he do?”
The question is immediate and you roll your eyes, seemingly looking relaxed which can't be said about Yeonseok, after you spilled the truth. He barely had enough time to kiss you as a greeting as you couldn't hold it anymore and confess what you've decided to do. You knew you had to speak fast before Yeonseok questioning and frustration would start. With three straight-forward sentences you've informed your husband of ending the deal, saying you can't do it anymore.
“Nothing. I decided to end it and not because of him.”
“Then because of what?” he exclaims, arms in the air as he frustratedly brushes his fingers through his hair. “I thought you wanted this.”
“I did,” you assure him. Oh god, it feels like having this conversation all over again. You're exhausted. “I just… can't do that to you, Seok.” you tell him softly as he stares at you as if you grew two heads.
“But–but we wanted this,” he stutters, “So you slept with him for nothing?” What seems to be like realization suddenly hits his face as he widens his eyes and starts freaking out all over again.
You sit down on the bar stool, clutching the kitchen island's edge as you watch him.
“This is fucking great. You're not even pregnant and you want him to get the money? The answer is no. No fucking way.”
“Yeonsoek!”
“I said no!” he snaps and you flinch in response.
“I promised him.”
“Oh, so you talked to him before me? Fucking great!”
He trashes his hands again and the emotions from earlier and all that is happening right now catches up to you. You feel your insides shiver but not in a good way, not the way you're used to as you feel your eyes water. He notices it and his features soften.
“I'm sorry. I just went with my intuition and–”
“Well your intuition sucks,” he cuts you off, “You made a fool out of me. He's gonna have the time of his life knowing you told him before me. And top of that, he will get the money. No fucking way.”
“Is this what really bothers you?” you deadpan with a cold tone, finally catching his total attention as he stares at you. “How do you look in front of him? He literally doesn't care as much as you think he does. All of this is ridiculous. From the stupid beef you have with him to the plan we had.”
You're not sure if it's fair for you to bring up the plan. You agreed to it just as much as he did. Just because you suddenly changed your mind (over something you cannot admit to him) doesn't make him a bad guy.
“Oh, so you fucked him a few times and you suddenly know him.”
Your stomach drops and so do your hands as they land on your lap, the shock not wearing off your face as one would have expected. Yeonseok realizes what he said and for a moment, he doesn't look sorry for it until he notices your watery eyes that makes him shoot into an action. He kneels in front of you, touching your knees and you have to do everything in your power not to kick him away. Though, you flinch away from his touch which makes him hesitantly let you go as he sputters a set of apologies.
“I'm sorry, I didn't mean it came out that way. It's just a lot to take in. I thought we were in this together, honey. I thought we wanted a baby. Why end it so suddenly? I came with the terms of you,” he stops for a moment, “sleeping with my brother. It wasn't easy for me too, I didn't want you to sleep with him but we wanted a baby so much. I just–don't understand what changed your mind.”
You know any of this has been easy on Yeonseok. No man would want another man fuck his woman, especially when it's his own brother. Not mentioning how much he despises him. Despite this, Yeonseok wasn't sure of Yoongi's idea and was actually against it in the beginning. Only after you assured him you're fine with it and this is the only way, he agreed. But surely, it affected him and you know he took more work than normally, trying to distract himself from the situation but not from you. It was his way of coping with it and you understood him. He still made sure he came back as a loving husband.
All of this is fucked up.
Only if he agreed to the adoption or the sperm donor who isn't his brother, you could've avoided all of this. Now you don't blame anyone. Everyone agreed and has a part in this.
“I just felt… I didn't feel like it was the right thing to do. I no longer feel like it's the right thing to do.” you explain as he frowns but holds back any reaction.
“So what now?”
“I don't know,” you whisper, “I just wanted this to end,”
You know he's asking about the obvious topic that has brought you here. But you just need to take a breather. You don't want to think about it now. Whatever it is, you can figure it out later. If Yeonseok won't agree on another method that doesn't involve his “silly” requirements, it's not going to be that hard to pick the right option for both of you.
But like you said, you can't think about it now.
“Yoongi deserves the money,” Yeonseok head snaps to you and he opens his mouth but you quickly cut him off. “I decided to end this. Not him. No matter how much you dislike him, you know it's only morally right to give it to him. He helped us.”
“He fucking insisted on fucking you.” he shoots back and you bite inside your cheek in frustration.
“And I agreed!” you exclaim, standing up as you slightly push him away from you. Your breath quickens but you force yourself to take a deep breath. “We got into this together.” you remind him as you walk away.
Yeonseok calls out your name, desperately trying to talk but you just can't keep up with this conversation.
“I need to be alone!” you yell out to him, knowing he's not close to you as you rush to the bathroom.
You lock yourself, even though you're not sure if he would follow you and walk in. He probably wouldn't but you need to be sure. You pace around the spacious bathroom, the anxiousness coming back as the events of today replay in your mind. The frustration is unbearable and you harshly bite onto your lower lip when you already started crying.
Why the fuck are you crying?
Today has been a lot to handle and you know it. Yet you're so mad at yourself for being so emotional. It seemed like a good idea in the beginning, all of this. Too blind with a hope of starting a family, you've never expected to end up in this mess. It sounded so smooth and easy. There are a lots of ifs but you know it's stupid to even think about it right now. What's done is done.
Looking at your reflection, you chuckle bitterly at the sight of yourself with watery eyes and smudged mascara. You look awful. Today has affected you – appearance wise.
You try your best to clean your face without smudging anything else, not even the lavender diffuser calming down your nerves. Gripping the edges of the counter, you just stare at yourself trying not to cry before your eyes linger on a specific drawer for a moment. You should do this too. You should end this once and for all and throw this whole chapter behind you. You can't wait because you know this would be the next thing making you anxious.
Opening the drawer, your eyes stop at the few boxes you haven't seen in a while as you're reminded of all the times you had it opened with hopeful eyes. Now it's a completely different hopeful eyes. Pulling out two boxes just to be sure, your shaky hands open them as you take the clean glass and fill it up with water. You drink it all, not noticing how thirsty you have been.
You bring the two pregnancy tests with you as you sit down on the toilet. You follow the instructions that you know very well by now, but this time it feels different. The anxiousness makes you want to vomit again but you swallow it down.
No, it's going to be okay.
Why the fuck did you have to have sex with Yoongi so many times that night?
Your coping mechanism is trying to convince yourself it's all going to be good. The tests will come out as negative. You and Yeonseok will think of another way. What you should've done from the beginning.
You flush the toilet once you're done, setting the tests on the counter as you wait. You don't have your phone with you, it's still in your purse and you curse yourself for not taking it out. Not only to set the timer on, but so you could occupy yourself instead of anxiously biting your nails.
Sitting on the floor, you wrap your arms around your head while somewhere in the distance, outside of the bathroom, you hear the clicking sounds. You sit there for a couple of minutes, trying to think of the simplest things but it turns out to be the hardest task. Swallowing, you stand up on your wobbly legs and cautiously approach the sink and the counter. You know the results should be shown by now.
You hesitate, looking everywhere instead of the stupid two tests and the messy boxes you still haven't thrown into the bin. You rub your nose frustratedly.
Fuck it.
You look. You grab the first test tightly but clumsily, so you almost drop it. It's not too far away from you dropping it all over again as you stare at the result.
Your stomach heaves and you cover your mouth. No. No. No.
You look under the lightning, trying to get a better look as you stare at the two lines, one of them very faint. No. It's only a bad result.
You quickly toss it back on the counter as you grab the other one, a different brand. Don't freak out. One test doesn't mean anything.
Looking at it closely, you let out a shaky gasp. “Fuck.”
You toss it on the counter and quickly sit up on the edge of the tub.
You're pregnant. Apparently.
With Yoongi's baby.
Your hands shake like crazy and you cry. It's such an overwhelming feeling, one you've always waited for so long but now you're not sure what to feel. The fact there's a baby growing inside of you brings you an indescribable feeling. You're too shocked to even realize what different emotions you feel.
The hand on your stomach still shakes as your insides tense. You cry into your palm – out of shock, and even happiness because you cannot feel angry knowing there's a baby inside of you. A new life created and slowly growing inside you. It's the fact how the baby came into this world and whose father it is. No. This baby could be Yeonseok's. He is going to be the father just like you originally planned.
This is what you wanted. Maybe this is how it was supposed to be.
Why do you feel like bursting in tears though?
“Honey, are you okay?”
Yeonseok's muffled voice makes your head snap toward the sound of it.
“I'm sorry for what I said. You've been there for a while and I just want to apologize.”
He sounds way more calm than before. He always does when he has a time to think things over.
You stare at the pregnancy tests and boxes frantically, not knowing what to do as Yeonseok keeps knocking on the door.
“I'll be right out!” you yell, not hiding the distress in your voice as Yeonseok begins to question it immediately.
What are you doing?
Why are you trying to hide this?
He's going to eventually know and you can't bear to keep another secret. You want to have a happy and peaceful life. Sighing, you let go off the boxes as they drop back on the counter before you unlock the door. You barely have any time to take a step back from the door as Yeonseok comes in and gazes at you with an apologetic look.
“I'm so sorry for what I told you. I'm an asshole, you don't deserve this and you're right, I will give him the freaking money,” he purses his lips as you raise your brow at him causing him to sigh, “But you're right. I'm doing it for you though and–”
He stops as his eyes suddenly stop in the sink's direction. He blinks as he walks up to it and glances at the boxes.
“What–” He quickly looks back, barely checking your expression as he checks the results instead as he opens his mouth. “Are you pregnant?”
You realize he tilts his head cluelessly, trying to see the second line.
“I–” you clear your throat, “I think so.”
“Are you sure?”
“Well, no. The other line is faint, so I'm not totally–”
You gasp as you're wrapped by a pair of strong arms, Yeonseok's lips kissing your forehead in pure ecstasy. “Oh my god, honey. This is amazing. This is what we wanted. Oh my god, I can't believe this.”
You should share his happiness, you know you're happy about this baby no matter how much you wished for a different result (it sounds bad, you know) but now that there's a high possibility that you're pregnant, you know you already love this baby and nothing will change that. But instead, you just stand there and barely seem to catch up with Yeonseok's reactions as he keeps hugging you, smiling at you widely and kissing you all over your face.
Not even once he thinks “oh shit, she's carrying my brother's baby”. He's happy, so happy that you're not sure if you've ever seen him this happy. Ever.
“We're gonna be parents.” His voice cracks in happiness as you see his tearing up, realizing your own tears start to stain your cheeks once again.
You crack a smile and this time, hug him back as the moment you've been waiting for finally happens.
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jungk0oksthighs · a day ago
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Over The Odds | The Argument 
Pairing - jungkook x reader
Genre - angst, smut, fluff, S2L, ceo!jungkook, sugardaddy!jungkook
Word count - 1.4k
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Drabble 10 - The last time you saw Jungkook
warnings: angsty, swearing, mentions of sex
FULL SERIES COLLECTION
Three Weeks Ago 
Jungkook stands in front of you in the open space of his dark lounge, you’re sitting on the sofa cross-legged and teary eyed as you both watch the news in horror. Toying with the hem of your white t shirt you can’t stop the cries from cascading down your cheek, the tape has been leaked to the public.
“Taehyung will fix this, he’ll get it deleted,” Jungkook nods as he reassures himself, eyes glued to the television, news reporters going into vivid details about your final night in Bora Bora - including an audio clip of the conversation that followed some of the most intimate moments of your life, “He’s the best attorney money can buy, I’m not just saying it because he’s my friend he’s going to fix this—”
“How could you do this to me?” You whisper, gaze finally meeting his.
“You think I did this?” He’s hugely offended, his hooded eyes animatedly large and round, contrasting to his sharp set jaw, “You actually think I did this?” His voice is raised.
Standing from the sofa you frown, “Did you send the video to one of your friends? Is that it? Is that how this has happened?” You want to believe he’s not capable of something like this but all the evidence is against him – he filmed the video, on his camera, he was the only one with a copy. “Was it just something to send to your group chats? Is that what it was to you?”
“That video was for me and you, nobody else—”
“Then how has this happened?! Explain to me why it’s all over the internet!” Your heart hammers inside your chest as you scream, thrashing your arms about as adrenaline courses your veins.
At this Jungkook pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to calm himself down, “I-, I don’t know.” He exhales, ridding himself of his grey hoodie before he throws it on the sofa, leaving him stood wearing a plain black t shirt.
“Bullshit.” You spit, “You’re the only one who had the video, you expect me to believe you didn’t have something to do this?”
“Why would I do something like this? Hm? Financial gain? Last time I checked I don’t need the money. So what other reason would I have to do this?”
“You tell me.” You scoff, shrugging as you wipe away your tears.
The realisation that you genuinely believe he’s the one to blame suddenly dawns on him, he’s shocked and insulted to say the least, “Y/N I didn’t fucking do this, why would I want anybody to see that video? I’m on it too.”
“Right,” You laugh, though there’s no humour in your tone, “Because this is going to end so badly for you. The only thing that’s going to happen to you is now everybody knows that you’ve got a big cock, guys are going to high-five you and congratulate—”
“Stop it.” Jungkook bites, “I didn’t leak the video.”
“You know what will happen to me?” You’re furious as you continue ranting, wiping your cheeks with shaky hands, “I’ll be known as the slut that billionaire playboy Jungkook fucked. I’m just another name in your little black book! The sugar baby that he spanked in a beach hut—”
“I said stop it!” His voice is louder, “You’re my girlfriend, I’m not going to let that happen.”
“It’s already happened!” You shriek, “I wasn’t your girlfriend in Bora Bora, the media already know what our situation was back then it’s all anybody’s been talking about for the past two days. It’s all over the fucking news Jungkook! The news!”
“You don’t think I know that?!” He growls, “You think this is easy for me? Knowing that people have watched that video?” He’s pacing the room now, fingers pushing his hair back in a hurry.
“Oh I’m so sorry that you’re having a hard time, it must be so difficult knowing that the whole world knows you’re good in bed!” You know you’re being irrational with him, you know it’s hard for him to digest the events of the past three days but you can’t bring yourself to look past the fact he’s the one who’s done this.
“Y/N.” He laughs unamused, shaking his head in disbelief, “Nobody feels worse about this than me.”
“What about me?” You’re quiet, “Do my feelings mean nothing to you?”
“Of course not! That’s not what I meant—”
“Then what did you mean Jungkook? You think that you’re worse off than me in this situation? Knowing that men have watched that thing and… I feel violated. I feel sick. I haven’t slept because I know that it’s spreading like wild fire, I can’t even get into my apartment building without the paparazzi asking me for more adult content.” You’re sobbing now, your breath shaky and shallow.
“You think I don’t feel violated?!” His voice is hoarse as he yells, staring down at you with a face of thunder, “Somebody has leaked a video of me having sex with my girlfriend, not some random girl I don’t care about - my girlfriend. I feel disgusted that people are watching that thing and ogling you without your consent. My fucking parents are devastated, I’m devastated, why don’t you understand that this is hard for me too?!”
“You really expect me to believe that you’re not responsible—”
“You know what? Yeah. I do expect my girlfriend to believe me when I say that I didn’t do this, and the fact you don’t says a lot about what you think of me.”
“Why else would you want to film us in the first place?” You can barely make out his face through your tears, he’s standing two feet away with an expression that can only be described as hurt. “Did you plan for this to happen?”
“Don’t,” He warns, refusing your questions, “In hind sight, it was a fucking stupid idea. If I could go back and change it trust me I would.” There’s a moment of tense silence before he opens his mouth to speak again, “Y/N this wasn’t me, I didn’t do this, I could never do something so… disgusting and inappropriate to you.”
“Disgusting and inappropriate…” You repeat, swallowing the lump in the back of your throat, “You mean like when you wanted to pay me for sex thirty minutes after meeting me?”
At this Jungkook stills entirely, it’s his turn to cry now – he stands in front of you with watery eyes, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth as though that will catch his emotions before they escape, “That’s enough.” 
There’s an uncomfortable silence, you’re rightfully upset and angry but even you know that was too far. You try to steady your breathing, toying with the idea of apologising before his words interrupt your thoughts.
“You really think I did it don’t you? That I leaked the video?”
No words are exchanged, instead you nod slowly and look away from his desperate profile, settling your gaze back to the television which is still reporting the story about you both. For obvious reasons the video can’t be aired on TV, so the news stations have settled for a screenshot of you laying beside each other in bed, his arm draped over your waist as he was about to confess his feelings for you, dazed and fucked-out beneath the sheets.
“But what I don’t understand is why…” Your voice is merely a whisper, “Why you would string me along for so long, just to publicly humiliate me break my heart.”
“If you genuinely believe I’m capable of this, you really don’t know anything about me.”
“No,” You grab your bag from the sofa and throw it over your shoulder, looking him dead in the eye for what you assume will be the last time, “I guess I don’t.”
“Y/N wait.”
You don’t look back.
Jungkook watches you leave his apartment with an aching heart, no sooner than you’re hidden behind the golden doors of the elevator he breaks down, sinking to the ground in floods of salty tears. Unbeknownst to him you too are bawling your eyes out as you exit the building, hiding your face from the dozen camera men that wait for you outside.
It’s over.
x
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lvricalangst · 19 hours ago
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Red Light, Green Light
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pairing; CEO!jungkook x PA!reader
genre; mainly angst, smut, hints of fluff at the end, ceo au, personal assistant au
warnings; cursing, non explicit sexual activities, bdsm but not too graphic, mentions of blood, all is consensual (until it’s not), kinda like a 50 shades of gray moment tbh, reader is a sub so we getting a dom koo but he’s an asshole and reader just wants his love and attention (and so does koo but he has a roundabout way of showing it)
rating; 18+ minors dni
w/c; 10,923 this one is a doozy
a/n; taking a break from soulmate aus to whip this baby out of my drafts. was listening to “earned it” by The Weeknd and this scenario came into my head. it’s my first time writing anything pertaining to this topic, so be kind pls. like + reblog if you enjoyed. feedback is always appreciated <3
networks; @ficscafe, @thebtswritersclub, @btsgoldnetwork, @kflixnet
You shouldn’t be here. It stood against every rational bone in your body. The same body that’s already had a taste of what’s to come, though this time it won’t be under the guise of a ‘work meeting’ in your boss’s office. No, for this special occasion, you were invited to his million dollar mansion. The Jeon Estate, where playboy and CEO ofJeon Enterprises – Jeon Jungkook, resided when he graced his workers with his presence since he took over the company from his father. Where he currently chose to specifically grace you with his presence, and more.
You honestly don’t even know how it started. One day you were a normal secretary who yeah, you’ll admit, you had a teensy crush on your boss. But you weren’t the only one. Men and women alike both shared interest in the handsome specimen of a man. His aura exuding attention and dominance whenever he walked into the room.
He was always dressed to the nines in a different custom designer suit whenever you saw him. Some of those even being dropped off for him, courtesy of yourself. Quickly and quietly you would step into his office, always getting his approval before even starting the trek to his floor. Cause yep, his office took up the entire top floor of the enlarged skyscraper that resided in Seoul, South Korea.
There was always an empty clothes rack that stood against the wall as soon as the elevator opened, where you would carefully place said suits, making sure they were evenly separated from each other. Already being yelled at for such a heinous act by his girlfriend when she witnessed the already plastic covered designer suits touching. You learned to never make that mistake again.
That was another fact that made it near impossible to get even on a friendly level with the CEO; his girlfriend. Sun-Yee was the epitome of perfection, but she had an ugly heart. Seriously, even Jungkook had his albeit rare, soft moments where he would give you a genuine thank you in gratitude for all your hard work. Those simple words igniting the fire in you to work harder to always stay in his line of sight amongst the thousands of other workers that resided on your floor.
So imagine, to your utmost surprise and delight, when his last personal assistant got fired for reasons unknown, and it was you he chose to be his new one. The power you felt when you walked into your enclosed office, rather than just another open cubicle, was indescribable. However, there was whispers that always floated around the office workers. Talks of what the young CEO liked to do as a hobby, both outside of work and during a certain mysterious block of hours that were always blacked out for him on a daily basis where he refused to take calls, clients, or meetings. Supposedly, he never left his office during those hours. And rather, there was always someone seen going in, to not come back out until the hours were over. That was all hearsay, a myth, an urban legend, until it happened to you.
One day, it was you he sent for to come into his office during those blacked out hours. And it was only then did you realize a whole different side to your boss. At first, he claimed it was just a chance to get to know his workers better, have a little ‘one on one’ time without the interruptions of the usual work day. And that’s exactly what happened the next two times he called you back in. You both got to know each other more personally, and it made you feel as if you finally made it to the friendship level in your work relationship. Dare you say, there was even moments of him flirting with you.
It was after the third meeting, did things take a sudden, sinful, turn. Not that you were complaining. Moreso, you were wantonly moaning. But only after agreeing to signing a very detailed contract. And that’s when you knew each other not just on a personal level, but an intimate one as well.
This went on for the better part of the year, him even taking you on a few out of office dates, and even though one of the many rules he had was never to catch feelings for him, you did, obviously. It didn’t help that on one of those public dates he decided to kiss you, which only fueled your innate feelings. You were only human after all. Feelings you always kept in and never showed except when your limbs were entangled and the tears of longing that ran down your face could be hid under the pretense of being euphorically overstimulated. If he ever got the sense you were falling for him, he never showed it.
When he broke up with his girlfriend, you had glutton laced hope that maybe he did it to be with you, exclusively. Except, the conversation of topic wasn’t ever brought up. And when your year mark hit, you didn’t even get one call or text from him. Sure, you didn’t technically have a label, but you thought you meant more to him than an essential booty call. You guessed wrong.
It wouldn’t be until three months later of you just doing your regular personal assistant duties at work, did you get summoned back to his office. With an exhausted sigh, you had no choice but to listen to your bosses orders and meet up with him. Not one to address the elephant in the room, you chose not to say anything of your previous sexual activities, and opted for the polite and professional ‘what can I do for you, sir’.
And thus, you were invited to join him for the evening at his 23.5 million dollar mansion, a fact you looked up due to pure curiosity and to busy yourself during the eerily silent car ride in the black, sleek, limo he sent for you to your house to be picked up. Requesting you dress in cocktail attire, you had to call up your best friend and raid her closet to wear something even close to what he had in mind. Cause other than the bleak, but comfortable, business attire you donned at work, all that was in your closet was casual and laidback clothing fitting for a single woman who was still paying off her student loan debt for the next 30 years. Basically, she was your lifesaver, and how it was possible for you to be wearing a black, body hugging, lace, bustier cocktail dress.
———————————————————————
High, thick, concrete walls that connected to an equally as high and thick automatic gate is what greeted you upon the arrival to just the entrance to the mansion. The driver signaled to the security guard station that was located on the side of the gate in order to monitor who comes and goes in the mansion for Jungkook’s safety. The security then pressed the magic button that thrust the gates wide open with ease and the limo resumed on it’s course up the long, scenic driveway that lead to the main doors of the mansion.
Once the car pulls to a stop in front of the mansion, you could hear the driver get out of the car. Assuming he was about to open your car door, you waited. Seconds later, the door is pulled open, but it’s not by the limo driver, it’s by Jeon Jungkook himself. Your eyes widened considerably at his sudden appearance, looking as elegant as always. He held his hand out to you with a knowing smirk, ready to help you out of the limo. Stepping out carefully onto the black asphalt, you held his hand tightly as leverage before letting go to stand up straight in front of him.
His eyes are locked on yours. There is an eerie calm in his demeanor that makes your pulse quicken. The subtle grin on his lips tells you not to be fooled by the quiet. It’s the silence before the predator strikes his prey. You see him look you over carefully and hungrily as he takes a step closer. He opens his mouth to speak and his voice is low and gravelly.
“Well, don’t you look ravishing, love.”
Your cheeks feel warm and your heart skips a beat. You suddenly feel as if the air around you has become much warmer, even on the blistery cool night it was only a second before his use of both the compliment and the pet name that didn’t go unnoticed by you.
“Shall we?” He offered his arm to you like a true gentleman, but you knew otherwise. Still, you took the offered arm in kind with a polite smile as he guided you both up the stairs and through the large front doors that were currently being held open by staff help, you could only assume.
Upon entering the foyer of the mansion, he continued to lead you up another flight of stairs that led you to his private wing where he said you could moan and scream in privacy. A cheeky smile plastered on his face as he leaned in to whisper the lewd thought into your exposed ear from wearing your hair in an updo.
It was a couple of more minutes of walking through a maze of hallways before he stilled both your movements in front of a plain, black door. In fact, upon surveying your surroundings since stepping inside, you have yet to see another door like it. This must be the only one. A thought that made you tilt your head in wonder, but you didn’t voice it out loud. Least, not until you see the key he fishes out of his pocket for you to see.
“Is this your room?” You ask inquisitively, tight smile on your face. Your heart was dreading what your body anticipated.
Jungkook let’s out a small chuckle and grins widely. He walks slowly closer to you, his eyes roaming over your body unabashedly. It was in this moment, that you truly did feel like his prey.
“Like what you see, sir?” You smirked at him, using his preferred choice of naming that normally gets him frazzled.
When he gets close, he moves around to your side, as though getting a view of all your angles. You don’t see him, but you hear him let out a soft grunt of approval before he steps closer to you, now taking the position of being behind you.
You can feel him behind you, the electricity of the close proximity buzzing through your body and hitting you in waves. You hear him breathe you in deeply. Savoring your scent and letting it wash over him. The lightest groan could be heard falling from his lips as he exhaled, barely audible, but you caught it within the silence of the hallway.
“Yes.” The delayed reply came with a drawn out ‘s’ sound at the end.
All of a sudden he pressed his soft lips against your shoulder as his hands came to rest on the curve of your hips. His lips slowly hovered over your skin, trailing up to the base of your neck, where he chooses to plant his next kiss. You can feel the warmth of his breath on your skin and it sends a delightful chill through you.
Not another sound has been made as you then feel one of his hands reach around your front to your chest. He leaves another kiss on your neck. The hand that rose to your chest, now outlined the curve of your breast sensually on it’s way to trail up your collarbone. Reaching it’s end destination, large hand lightly curving around the side of your throat with ease, his lips place yet another kiss on your skin. The other hand that’s on your hip, grips your waist more tightly.
With another deep inhalation of your aroma, he squeezes your throat so lightly, you could barely feel it. Holding it for just a moment, he lets his hand fall from your neck and moves from his position behind you, effectively letting you free from his snake like grip that did nothing but entrance you into your submissive state.
Standing back in front of you, he gently places one hand on your cheek with a soft, sincere look on his face and a question on his lips.
“Are you ready?”
“Yes, sir.” You reply back instantly.
Jungkook holds your gaze for a moment and sucks his bottom lip between his teeth. He reaches down to unlock the door with one hand, the other grabbing your hand to lead you in once he pushes it open. Walking through the threshold, you were surrounded by an aura the room held within it’s closed doors. There was no doubt in your mind, this was his playroom.
———————————————————————
You recall the stoplight system he uses. Green to keep going, yellow to slow down or be careful, and red for a full stop. You repeated the rules like a mantra in your head, not realizing that Jungkook has long since shut the door behind your bodies and was now trying to talk with you. Blinking yourself out of your stupor, did your ears seem to start working again as you shyly asked him to repeat himself one more time.
On the bed you can see three decorative boxes, clearly gifts for someone. He looks at you, smiling widely, and gestures towards the boxes.
“I told you that I wanted you to have something that could be your own in this space. In each box is something you might enjoy using during our time together.” He patiently reiterated for a second time.
“Oh! Really?” You asked unbelieving. Maybe he does this ritual for every girl he brings into his playroom, you rationalized in your head.
He opens the various boxes for you and invites you to take a look inside them. In the first box are red ropes. In the second box is a pair of black, leather cuffs bound together by a short chain. In the third box is a black, satin blindfold with ribbon accents around the edging.
“You choose whichever one you would like, and it’s yours.” He vowed to you solemnly.
Why did this oddly feel like leaving a toothbrush at your boyfriend’s house? The only difference being he isn’t your boyfriend, and his idea of a toothbrush is a sex toy of your choosing. Your mind reeled with unspoken questions while your heart started fluttering with the possibility of this endeavor meaning something more to him than just a booty call.
Is it possible that he was catching feelings too?
Leaning down to reach into the box, you chose to go for the black, satin blindfold. The simplicity and allure drawing itself to you. You couldn’t wait to experience what kind of pleasure this material would bring you. More specifically, what he would bring you wearing it.
Once again you got lost in your thoughts while holding the blindfold in the palm of your hand delicately. The fabric is luxurious and soft against your skin. During your inner lewd daydreams, Jungkook took it upon himself to walk into the connecting bathroom in the room to undress until he was in nothing but his underwear.
Minutes later he returns, thoroughly disrobed, and grins at your selection of choice.
“Have you made your decision, baby?”
His voice breaks you from your daydream, as you subtly nod your head at him in response, eyes showing no remorse as they trail over the beautiful, nearly nude, male in front of you. Now you suddenly felt overdressed.
Jungkook holds his hand out for you to give the blindfold to him. He looks you over with eager anticipation and gives you a wide smile.
“Ready to begin?” He asks in a sultry voice that has your toes curling in your heels.
“Yes, I’m ready.” You replied, not realizing your mistake. His eyes narrowed.
“Colors next time. Green. Yellow. Red.” He annunciated each color in a clear and concise voice so you understood. You nodded and this time you replied back correctly.
“Green.”
———————————————————————
Jungkook smiles softly at you. He steps around behind you and covers your eyes with the blindfold, positioning it carefully before tying it tightly against your head. He lets his hands caress the sides of your neck for a moment, letting each hand run its own course along the tops of your shoulders and then moves around to stand back in front of your now sightless figure. You feel him take your hands in his.
Without any kind of warning, he immediately pulls you in so close you could feel the body head that radiates from him, as his lips meet yours in a kiss. The kisses are slow and sensual at first, but become more intense and needier with each touch of his traveling hands. You feel his hands find place on your hips as he carefully guides your body backwards still kissing you. Deprived of your sight, you relaxed your body to let him lead you without trouble.
Feeling your back touch a wall, you let out a soft grunt in the kiss. Jungkook uses the opportunity of the new position to press his body against yours. His kisses are deep and his tongue slithers into your mouth with expertise, mingling with yours. You let out a soft moan as you kiss him, the sound eliciting a response in him in a way of tilting his head to kiss you more deeply, his hands gripping onto you tightly to the point of slight pain, but still mostly pleasure.
Due to the close proximity, you can feel how his heart is beating against your clothed breast. He angles his hips before pressing them towards you and you can feel exactly how much he’s enjoying the make out session so far, his length prominent behind the thin underwear he’s still wearing. He then abruptly breaks the kiss, which has your submissive side whining in disappointment.
His body heat fades from yours as he steps back and away from you, but you still stay leaning against the wall since he hasn’t told you to move. Still unable to see, you can hear him shuffling around within the room. Even with his absence, you can still smell the alluring musk of his cologne in the air and it’s dizzying.
A moment later, you hear the sound of his feet padding towards you, before he pivots at the last moment he would’ve made contact with your body, and places an unknown object onto the nightstand you know is located a few paces somewhere close to where you stood against the wall. Your body flinches at the sudden onslaught of his hands on your body once more, his lips coming in a barrage of lip bruising precision. His hands then begin the arduous process of removing your clothes while finding strategic ways to break the kiss as little as possible.
Soon, you feel nothing but air hit your body as you stand in nothing but the blindfold still tightly secured around your eyes, nothing but black filling your vision. He places a delicate kiss on your now bare shoulder with a tenderness that has you inwardly keening at his soft nature coming out for you only.
Then you feel something cold, an ice cube, you conclude. Your nipples instantly hardened at the abrupt coldness, goosebumps now littering your skin all over. He alternated between tantalizingly rubbing the ice cube on various parts of your body, to then take it away and replace the cold spot with soft, warm kisses. Between those kisses he asked a question.
“Green?”
“Green.” You breathlessly echoed.
Once you could only assume the ice cube fully melted from your body heat alone, did he calculatingly place one of his arms behind your knee and one behind your back to scoop you up into his arms in a bridal style hold. You let out a quiet gasp at the sudden action.
Gently he laid you down on the silk sheets of the bed and hovering over you with one arm supporting him, he reached over to the nightstand to grab another ice cube. Continuing the cold assault on your body, he kept switching in between rubbing the ice cube on multiple parts of your body and planting precise soft, warm, open mouthed kisses on the once cold areas. Your back arching underneath him due to his ministrations, little mewls could be heard falling from your lips.
He licks up the drops of water as they start trailing down your body. The ice play and Jungkook’s skilled tongue elicit moans of pleasure from you, particularly when he gives his full attention to more sensitive parts of your body. The longer you play, the more you feel as though Jungkook is on autopilot. Every touch is calculated and needy as he seeks refuge in your body. With each change of position and play his touch becomes more rough.
His body climbs further up yours as he effectively traps you underneath his body, leaning down to kiss you deeply. With one of his hands he pins your wrists above your head still kissing you. You feel him pull back slightly as you feel his teeth playfully bite into your bottom lip a little too hard, the unwarranted action causing you to gasp into the little space between your faces. He doesn’t let up, pinning your wrists harder into the bed with his grip tightening around them.
His lips leave kisses as they trail down your chin to the base of your neck, where his teeth decide to make another showing. The sharp pinch and suction on your skin is harder than you expected, and it hurts. Not wanting to ruin the mood, however, you kept your lips pursed tightly. Even though the word ‘yellow’ wanted to make it’s way out of your mouth in a small plea.
His pacing doesn’t change as he switches his assault on your body to one where his hands were continuously moving and grasping all parts of your body aggressively, the gentle side of him long gone. His mouth and tongue ravished your body, him wanting to get a taste of every inch of you. His whole demeanor screamed rough and possessive.
A slight whimper made it’s way up your throat and through your still pursed lips. Yet you steeled your resolve, selfishly hoping that any minute he would change back to the gentle Jungkook you once knew, and unfortunately and consequently, you were still in love with.
Seemingly out of nowhere, cause it was, to you, he uses his sheer upper body strength once he sits back up on his knees, to flip your body over, resulting in you now being face down in the pillows with your bare back and ass in plain view for him. You mistakenly thought he was doing this to give you a gentle, pleasurable, back massage. Once again, you were wrong.
He hungrily kisses, licks, sucks, and bites all over the newly exposed skin that has yet to feel his wrath. His hands roughly grasped your hips, your ass, everything. Mimicking his previous position, he once again grasps your wrists in his one large hand to press them down into the bed. Your head was now facing sideways, resting on the upper part of your arm in an attempt to get some air into your lungs, breaths coming out in sharp pants. With his tight grip on your wrists, he slid his chest down the length of your back until you could feel his breath fan over your bare ass cheek, his other arm stretched out over your legs to unknowingly keep your body in place, not at all prepared for the wave of pain you were about to feel. You even half expected him to ask you for what color you’re currently feeling before he makes his move. Nope. Not this time, apparently.
His teeth sunk harshly and without remorse into the flesh of your hip, the only surprise for you being his target which you thought was going to be your ass cheek. Wrong, wrong, wrong. It should be your new mantra in life.
A searing pain burns at your hip and there is no doubt in your mind that he’s drawn blood.
———————————————————————
“What the actual fuck, Jungkook?”
Your high pitched scream and question cut through the now humid air that was caused by your heated bodies. Roughly tugging yourself out of his iron grip on your wrists, you tugged the blindfold up enough to see Jungkook. A look of murder was on your face from the painful action, your hip now throbbing from the male’s assault.
What you didn’t realize was that Jungkook was still stuck in his dominating persona, and you just broke a major rule by not using the stoplight code.
Jungkook doesn’t say a word to you as he releases you from his grip fully, face blank from emotion, as he lifts himself up off the bed to stand back on his feet. His figure striding over towards an array of toys that hung on the far wall in plain view with a newfound purpose. He just stands there for a second with his back towards you, pondering, when he slowly and delicately picks a riding crop up off one of the many shelves that were lined up in rows on the wall.
When he looks at you next, his gaze is cold. This isn’t the warm look your encounter started with, as the supposedly playful bites that were already painting bruises on your skin, stung painfully.
Something feels off. Something feels wrong.
Deciding that you were finally done, you carefully untie and remove his gift. The blindfold now free from it’s once tight grip around your head, and toss it in front of you on the bed. You shuffle yourself off the bed, being careful not to bump any of your now very prominent forming bruises that littered your body in a grotesque painting. Mustering up what dignity you had left, you stood at the side of the bed with a straight back and stared at Jungkook.
Jungkook now eyes the blindfold on the bed with a steely gaze, standing directly in front of the bed in a stiff manner, hand holding the riding crop in a death grip, his knuckles turning white. He saunters over to your now standing form to stand directly in front of you instead.
“I didn’t tell you to take it off, did I?” His voice pierced through the room in a tone void of emotion. You couldn’t believe those were the first words he was going to say to you after everything that just happened. Your hand twitched from its spot that hovered near your now aching hip.
It all happened so quick, it was like a blur, as if your mind already wanted to erase this whole scenario from your mind before it even began. With fast and precise movements, Jungkook grabs your wrist and turns you around to face the bed. He lets go of your wrist only to press it harshly against your lower back, the action resulting in you now being bent over for him, your upper body landing on the bed with your ass still up in the air. It was the perfect position for his next move. You should’ve expected it at this point, but naively, you didn’t. That was your mistake. Though, least you can say you tried.
“Jungkook, wait, don’t— STOP!”
With a sharp twist of his wrist, Jungkook makes a fatal hit on your bare ass. A loud ‘SMACK’ could be heard reverberate through the room from the contact of the riding crop hitting your skin. Your whole body being pushed forward from the sheer force of the hit. Not wanting to make the same mistake twice you finally said the correct code word. Or rather, you screamed it.
“RED! RED! RED!”
You’re in tears. Them falling immediately after the riding crop left your now red, sore, skin. Jungkook says nothing, but to your relief, he also doesn’t continue.
“This isn’t like you.” The words coming out of your mouth in a watery mess, your body now curled in on itself, your legs being pulled up on the bed fully, as you now took the fetal position. Suddenly, you felt overexposed.
As though being broken from a trance, your comment made his cold demeanor crack as his eyes widened. His breathing is hard and you can tell his adrenaline has been pumping. It wasn’t until you finally gained enough strength to pick your wrecked and sore body off the bed to gather your things and get dressed in record breaking time, did his facial expression change. You can physically see the array of emotion’s pass by on his face, it’s as if he doesn’t even fully understand what just transpired in his own body himself.
Gathering your courage, you decided that you would not let this situation break you. And instead, you were going to stand up for yourself for once. Feelings be damned. You didn’t want to be with someone in any way, shape, or form, if they could so willing do something like this to you without restraint.
“This wasn’t what we agreed to.” You started your little speech in a calm, cold manner. Jungkook was getting ready to open his mouth and spew some kind of bullshit for you to forgive him. You raised your hand up in front of his face to stop him. You were not going to let him have the chance.
“Green. Yellow. Or red. I don’t fucking care–“ you emphasized in a now loud tone.
“If I say stop, YOU STOP!” You yelled the last words in his face, eyes ablaze with a fury he’s never seen on you wear before. It makes him feel even worse than he already does.
Stepping back away from him, to give yourself some distance from the male before you do something you regret, you let out an exhausted and shaky sigh. Your own adrenaline starting to come down from the weight of the words that just came out of your mouth. Man, you just wanted a warm bath and to snuggle into your equally warm, safe, bed.
Jungkook seems conflicted and confused. But he respects your distance and doesn’t move an inch towards you. He quickly grabs his clothes from the bathroom, but instead of getting dressed in there, he opts to stand in the same position in front of you as before, not wanting you to leave without him knowing.
He dresses to the best of his ability while still standing up. His eyes meet yours for a brief moment, but he says nothing and looks away. ‘What a coward’, you thought inwardly in disgust. All he does is trek his way to the entrance of the room, where he opens it for you. Not wasting a second more, you hurriedly step through the threshold and make your way down the same path you took to get here, except now you were leaving. Jungkook surprisingly doesn’t go to follow you, as if his body is still in shock over it’s misuse of someone so precious to them, you.
You make your way down the main grand staircase that leads to the foyer and the two, large, grandiose doors that will be your escape from this mansion. The staff held them open for you patiently, as if Jungkook already told them you were leaving somehow. Sure enough, as soon as you stepped foot into the outside air, there was already the same black limo idly waiting for your arrival to drive you back home. The driver held the door open for you as you climbed into the backseat. Stealing a glance back towards the mansion as the car drove off, you looked through the back, tinted window. You saw Jungkook standing where the car was prior on the black asphalt. His chest heaving, mouth open, and a look of regret and sorrow was painted on his face, as if he made a last minute decision to chase after you. His attempt was futile. You were already gone. And you never looked back again.
———————————————————————
A letter of resignation would be found on his office desk in the morning when he would sit down in his chair. Hands holding the paper so carefully, a look of heartbreak resting on his face at the name signed at the bottom.
Your name.
Slamming the paper down on the desk with both hands, he stood up in his chair, the force of him kicking it back with his foot hard enough to clatter on the floor behind him. His rage not yet satiated, he made a big swiping motion with his hands and arms as he made all his belongings on the clear, glass desk fly into the air before harshly landing in a pile of nonsense on the dark, marble flooring.
Still standing, his head was down, with his hair shielding his face. His knuckles clutched tightly on the glass desk turning white, his nails digging into the palms of his hands that was painful, but he didn’t care. It was nothing compared to the pain he brought you, albeit, it was never intended to get that far. He would forever regret the way he treated you, someone he very closely came to loving. But as always, he had to fuck up the one good thing in his life.
Tears splattered on the clear desk in a continuous pattern as his shoulders shook with the quiet sobs he held in so others couldn’t hear.
He couldn’t appear weak,
he was the CEO after all.
But that didn’t mean he wasn’t ready to fight for you with all he had.
———————————————————————
Starting your new job at a different firm wasn’t easy. You were so used to the ways of your old place of work, your coworkers, your boss. It was difficult trying to find a new routine, but after a couple of months, you finally found one. You weren’t necessarily happy, but you were content. And that was better than nothing.
Jungkook hasn’t tried contacting you since you resigned. And as much as you wanted to completely cut him off from your life for good, you still found yourself looking at articles that pertained to the young, handsome, successful CEO. Though, there were some concerns about certain businesses he was in charge of that had to do with shareholders? You’re not entirely sure what it all means, not majoring in business yourself, but the fancy charts in the article that show drastic highs and lows must mean it’s not anything good.
And of course, you stalked his social media accounts. To your utmost surprise, there hasn’t been any racy pictures of him with other women since after you left. In fact, other than a few pictures of him with respectable business women where he kept a polite distance with a trained smile, there wasn’t any others. None. As if he took the time to delete each and every one from all his social media accounts. But why would he go through the hassle of something like that? To try and create a better image of himself for future investment opportunities? That had to be it, you thought rationally.
Cause surely, it wasn’t because of you.
You scoffed at the preposterous thought that wormed itself into your head. Wearing your comfy pajama set, you scooped another spoonful of ice cream that ended up in your mouth. Humming in content over the creamy goodness, you frowned upon realizing that was the last bite. Just as you were about to get up and throw the carton away, there was three, loud, consecutive knocks on your front door.
Stopping in your tracks, you stilled. Maybe they were knocking on the wrong door? After a few minutes of you still not answering the door, the persistent knocks continued for another three raps. Furrowing your eyebrows you decided to just open the door and steer them in the right direction.
What you didn’t expect, was for Jeon Jungkook of all people to be standing in a for once, casual outfit of choice, as if he was trying to blend in with the surrounding people. In fact, it seemed like his whole persona has changed. He has a new haircut and style, new piercings on his face that weren’t there before, and even some tattoos on his once bare skin. To say you were shocked, would be an understatement. You’ll admit, it just makes him even more irresistible. Much to your dismay.
“I believe I owe you an apology. May I come in, y/n?”
You stared at him like he had two heads. Was he serious?
“You’re serious? It’s been like, three months, Jungkook! Not that I was keeping count or anything–,” you started off strong, then gradually fell into your word vomit. His lip gave a subtle quirk, as he tried not to smile at your adorable rambling, lip piercing slightly moving with the sudden gesture.
“You’re right.” He began, making you cross your arms in pride that he agreed with you for once. “It’s been three months, one week, and four days. And yes, I was keeping track.” He stated the exact amount of time so casually, no hint of being embarrassed about it at all on his face. Your mouth dropped open as your eyes widened comically. He was serious. Oh, shit.
Okay. Okay. Okay. You repeated in your head as you cautiously opened the door wider and moving off to the side to give him room to walk inside your small, dingy, but comfortable home. You just hoped he wouldn’t rip you a new one at your choice of living. Or your interior design. The afterthought coming after you not so subtly shut the door quickly behind him, and raced by him into the living room to inspect what damage you’ve done this evening with your recent pity party of one. It looked decent, thankfully. And you mentally patted yourself on the back for that one.
Choosing to sit on the lazy boy recliner that could only fit one, you strategically created a good amount of distance between you two as he sat on the loveseat that was adjacent to you. Curling your legs underneath you, you tugged the throw blanket that was hanging off the back of the chair in pure decoration, and threw it over the lower half of your body. Tucking it up underneath your arms, you were sure the blanket was thoroughly secured and risked looking up into Jungkook’s face for the first time since you opened the door. Time to get this conversation over with.
“So,” you started, drawing out the ‘o’ sound, “–about that apology? You owe me a lot more than that.” As an afterthought, you added a sly, “I got home just fine, by the way.” A morose smile was on your face, a sure fire way of letting him know you were being sarcastic.
His face was still stoic, eyes just continuing to stare into your soul. If it wasn’t for you watching him so closely, you would’ve missed the slight twitch that occurred with his now pierced eyebrow. He forgot just how feisty you could be, a stark reminder that you were much different from his previous relationships.
One of the many reasons he did end up falling for you in the time you spent together, you being none the wiser. Not that he explicitly showed he was interested in you more than just what was written in the contract. His mind always won over his heart when it came to business. But now he saw things in a new light since you’ve been gone, he was a completely changed man, for the most part.
“That’s good to hear.” He gave you a small, genuine smile. When it came to your safety, it was always his top priority. It wasn’t something to joke about. He understood that much.
“I’m sorry our evening ended like it did.” The smile now wiped from his face completely, eyes full of sorrow, the events of that night swirling in his head like a reel of old film. It haunted him to this day, him still not fully knowing how he let himself go so carelessly. It’s like he completely blacked out after a certain extent of your activities, losing himself to his dominant side that he thought he had control over by now. He was wrong, it seems. “I shouldn’t have put you in that position. And I am very glad that you made it home safely, y/n.”
Your face started to turn into one of sympathy for the male, the feeling behind his words seeming real. Or, so you thought. Until he uttered the next words from his mouth that made your face contort into one of disbelief.
“I thought you understood what you were getting into though.”
You scoffed out loud at him.
“Seriously? You treated me like a one night stand you could hurt to make yourself feel better!” The words rushed out of your mouth in a clipped tone. Your body leaning forward from the weight of the words.
He held his hands up in defense, worried you might get up at any moment to pummel into him with your tiny, yet still equally as dangerous, fists of fury when you were upset enough. Another reason he fell for you, your strength and being able to stand up for yourself.
“That wasn’t my intention, I assure you…,” he trailed off, deep in thought, his gaze on you turning into one of resolve and clarity. “Maybe you still aren’t quite ready for this lifestyle. You should have said ‘red’ sooner.”
An unladylike snort made it’s way out of your nose from the surprising comment. This guy, you thought with a click of your tongue, shaking your head in mock sadness for the male in front of you. He still didn’t understand what an apology was, or what it meant for that matter. Clearly, he believes that he did nothing wrong that night. A heavy feeling settled itself into your stomach where butterflies used to once flutter for Jungkook. And now they were all dead.
“Jesus fucking Christ!” You threw up your hands in frustration, head thrown back into the chair as you stared up at the blank white ceiling before settling your sights back on the perfect example of what a privileged man looks like.
“Are you kidding me right now?!” Your voice cracked from the sudden high pitch in tone. “This isn’t something that I’ve,“ you pointed at yourself, emphasizing. “–done wrong, Jungkook!”
“I suppose that makes sense…,” he once again trailed off, unphased by your outburst and theatrics, shrugging his shoulders in a nonchalant way. It pissed you off to no end. How the hell did you waste a better part of over a year on this guy? You must’ve been blinded by love.
“MAKES SENSE?!”
Your body shifted as if you were about to stand up, which you were, from the amount of rage you were currently experiencing with your whole body. The throw blanket being thrown off your lap haphazardly without a care. The subtle action making Jungkook instantly jump up from his position on the couch to now stand behind the couch he was sitting on prior, using it as a makeshift shield. He was smart, sometimes.
Assuming the position of defense, he once again held his hands up in front of him, fingers splayed out as extra protection, you could only guess, before wisely spewing the rest of his thoughts out loud that will hopefully ward you off and have you change your mind about attempting to murder him.
“Y/N, wait! Listen to me for just a moment!” He pleaded with you desperately. Now standing up yourself, you took one step towards him as he took one step back.
“You’re right.” He led with the phrase that made you stare at him questioningly. Your head tilted to the side as your arms crossed over your chest. Foot tapping impatiently on the ground, you gestured with one of your hands for him to continue. He had your attention. He better not waste it.
“I was in the wrong here. I should have checked in. Just because you didn’t use a safe word doesn’t mean that you were doing okay. It truly is on me. I have not been a good dom to you.” Your face lost it’s anger, now turning into one of astonishment as you focused on the words that fell from his mouth. “It’s inexcusable, and I would understand if you considered it unforgivable as well.” Your arms now unfolded to flop uselessly by your sides as you stood up straighter. “If you want to end it here and now, I wouldn’t blame you for it. Though, I guess you kind of did already..” his voice got smaller, the fact making his heart feel heavy. But despite his tone, he gained the courage to walk around the couch to stand in front of you a few feet away. His hands were fisted at his sides as he mustered up the strength to properly finish his speech. “But I will ask, selfishly, that you give me another chance.”
“We don’t even want the same things.” You fired out the fact with an exasperated tone. Your body sagged, suddenly feeling exhausted from this whole conversation.
“I understand that.” He stated, just as matter of fact. It made your eyebrows furrow in confusion. If he understood, why was he still so adamant to get back together with you?
“I don’t know what’s going on, but you’re all over the place! You told me before all this happened that you just might consider taking me out on dates, exclusively, with a title. That’s why I decided to meet you at your house that day, even though my mind was telling me otherwise. But then that date suddenly turned into another one of your sessions.” The passionate explanation was the last straw for your worn out body as you resolved to sitting back down in the comfort of the lazy chair, not being able to support the own weight of your body anymore. Your head fell into your hands as your palms rubbed into your eyes viciously, trying to cease the onslaught of tears that wanted to spill out.
Jungkook dropped to his knees in front of your sitting figure, not caring about how his knees might bruise from the sudden impact, his height now matching yours as he gently grabbed both of your hands to pull them away from your face. In response, you turned your head to the side to try and hide the fact that you couldn’t succeed in stopping the tears from coming out. It broke his heart, a lump of his own starting to form in the back of his throat that he cleared before continuing to speak, now in a soft, gentle, tone.
“I know, I’m so sorry, y/n.” He released his grip on your wrists one large hand, opting for holding both of yours in a firm, but gentle grip. The other rising to caress the side of your face that’s turned away from him, slowly moving your face forward towards him so he could look you in the eyes with what he says next. He wants you to know he means every word.
“I wish I could explain away my actions, but that would be disingenuous even if outside factors are affecting me.”
“You’re right about that.” You mumbled under your breath bitterly, now looking into his big, brown, doe eyes you love.
“Is there anything I can do to begin to fix us? I don’t want to lose you, as much as I deserve to.” His eyes glistened with a watery sheen to them. You clutched onto his hand with yours, the one that was still caressing your face with utmost care. Your heart was starting to resurface for the lonely male. But, you inwardly decided, this would be his one and only chance under one condition.
“Tell me what’s really going on, or I’m out. I mean it, Jungkook.” You squeezed the hand that was holding yours in emphasis.
Letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding as he waited for your next words, he nodded determinedly, albeit with a little hesitation. He’s never been one to express his emotions so vividly. The whole vulnerable side being new to him entirely. He never even got like this with his previous partners. His feelings having never run this deep for anyone before.
“When I first started talking to you, I found myself quickly enamored with you in a way I hadn’t felt in a long time. I found myself sharing details of my life I hadn’t spoken about in years. I was telling you about my dreams. You were in my dreams!” He rubbed the side of your face with his thumb, eyes wide with a small smile making an appearance on his face. “You made me feel so normal. Not once did you treat me differently for my money. It was like I could live this other life around you. It was–,” his voice quieted, his eyes searching yours for something unknown to you, but he let out a shaky exhale as he continued with his spiel, his voice now sounding breathless. “–intoxicating. It made me want to lavish you. I fell so fucking hard for you, y/n.”
His end confession didn’t go unnoticed from your ears, but you knew this wasn’t the time to expand on that subject quite yet. So, you asked a logical question back at him, even more confused with what he wanted than before he started talking.
“So, what happened?”
“I broke my own rules so quickly. I took you out on that date and kissed you in front of everyone. It was everything I swore I wouldn’t do again….but I loved it.” He chuckled to himself humorlessly. “And then I had to leave you. By the time the plane landed in Paris where my meeting was being held, the news of us had spread like wildfire. The mergers came out at the worst time. Speculation began that I was being a playboy, focusing less on business and more on pleasure. The stocks dropped. The shareholders panicked.” There was a slight pause in his rambling where you were able to chime in your thoughts.
“That doesn’t sound good.” You quietly spoke in between the negative space shared between your bodies.
“So, yes, I did have to handle my father’s estate while I was out of town. I also then worked around the clock to satisfy the shareholders and keep their confidence high in my abilities.”
“I can’t imagine having to deal with those at the same time.” You grimaced at the thought, knowing if you were in Jungkook’s shoes, they would definitely be a heavy pair to fill.
“It’s all settled for now. Not without several sleepless nights trying to figure it all out, of course.”
He waved his free hand into the air nonchalantly, his face sporting a small grin. His playful side making a rare appearance right in front of your eyes. The sight making those butterflies start kicking up in your stomach, before you harshly swallowed them down to nothing.
“What was so hard to sort out?” You inquired curiously, head tilting into his hand subconsciously.
“I couldn’t let you go.” He said casually. Not an ounce of him lying could be heard in his voice or in his facial expression.
You? So it was your fault? That made no sense.
“All of this,” you gestured wildly with your arms in the space around you, using the air as a metaphor for all the chaos in Jungkook’s world, “is over me?” Your eyebrows raised into your hairline in question.
“Does that really surprise you?” His eyebrows mimicked yours in response. “I’ve shared things with you that I wouldn’t dream of letting other people know about. Despite how hard I’ve worked to keep my walls up, you–,” he booped your nose softly with the tip of his finger, “–knock them down effortlessly.” He gave you a lopsided grin.
Damnit, those stupid butterflies were back with a vengeance.
“So, I made myself believe that if our only connection was the contract, I could balance everything again. I could have everything scheduled, and I could still see you.”
You leaned backwards into the chair, effectively breaking the contact with his hands and ran your hands through your hair as you exhaled a sigh. Splaying your hands on your stomach, your new position was one of exhaustion and laziness. You eyes him warily, eyes narrowed with more questions that needed answers.
He sat in front of you, patiently, but now he sat at your feet on the floor. His height not changing much from the new position. Must be nice, you thought enviously with your genetically short statured body. Your height was another factor that made Jungkook want to keep you all to himself. It made you more irresistible in his eyes.
“Why would this affect your businesses?”
Jungkook mindlessly poked his tongue out to play with his lip ring as he tilted his head to the side, inwardly debating on how to put his response into the correct words, an action that made you swallow your own saliva that seemed to build up quickly out of nowhere causing you to choke on your own spit for a second. The sound not going unnoticed by Jungkook as his sharp gaze zeroed in on you with a look of concern. You waved your hands at him in response in a silent ‘I’m good’, not wanting to explain what warranted the choking to occur. How embarrassing would that be? Your cheeks flushed at the would be explanation.
Deeming that you’re okay and not spontaneously dying in front of him, he wrapped his arms around his bent knees as his back now leaned against your mahogany coffee table. Playing with one of the various rings that adorned his hands, he attempted an explanation you could understand.
“The easiest way I can explain it is that rivals will look for anything that’s a perceived weakness to get rumors buzzing. A wonderful date was twisted into an accused source of distraction from cranking out shareholder profits. Which is exactly why I try to keep things in my life as private as possible.”
When you didn’t offer any comments, he did a lip trill with his lips before proceeding. His voice wavered with deep emotion playing across his face you couldn’t quite decipher.
“What I’m saying is I made a mistake, y/n. I thought I could arrange things like I used to. But I made a mistake.” He repeated the line with a sense of urgency, hoping you would pick up on it so you understood him. You did. “You’re not like anyone I’ve ever met before.” He looked downcast, defeated, vulnerable. Nothing like the CEO persona you were used too, but maybe moreso it was a hint at the real Jungkook. Your Jungkook.
“Do you even know what you want?” You questioned in a tired tone. Feeling like you’ve more than beat that specific question dead. But so far, it seems to have been looked over by the male, like he was trying to avoid it, and you were done waiting.
“And I still don’t understand why the tabloids would be focused on me at all. I’m a nobody. A wallflower. A face in the crowd. A background character. A homebody. Whenever I take my shirt off I’m mostly worried last night’s snack is gonna fall out! Especially when we have spur of the moment sex!” You rambled theatrically, pointing at yourself and even going so far as to stand back up and shake out your current pajama top you were wearing that did, in fact, still have a few crumbs leftover in it’s creases from the snacks you were eating prior to his arrival. A fact, that made Jungkook chuckle with a wide, bunny toothed grin as he looked up and watched you from his sitting position on the floor. God, you were so fucking adorable. He couldn’t get enough of you.
Sporting a now cheeky grin, he pushed himself up off the floor with the help of the coffee table to once again tower over you with his height. Unexpectedly, he leaned down to kiss the top of your head warmly, making your cheeks flush once again with a pink hue.
“I’ve always appreciated your ability to plan ahead and provide refreshments at every occasion.” He playfully acted like he was lifting a crumb off your shoulder to put into his mouth, before making a chewing motion with his mouth and moaning loudly as if he enjoyed the invisible food in his mouth. The act making you roll your eyes and shove his chest playfully in reply.
“It’s a hidden talent of mine, what can I say?” You nonchalantly told him with a raise of your shoulders, your hands held out at your sides palm up, as if to say ‘so what’?
“Seriously though, there is far more to you than you realize. Trust me.” He now opted to pat your head fondly, voice exuding nothing but truth. “And I need to make sure I’m doing right by you. Anything short of that isn’t fair to you.”
Playing with your hands, your body slightly curling in on itself from the loving tone Jungkook just used towards you of all people, made your shy side come out, not expecting the wholesome statement from the once playboy CEO.
Mustering up your courage, you looked up at Jungkook who had a sincere, loving, expression on his face directed towards you. You expected your voice to come out at an average voice frequency, but instead it came out as an almost whisper, it didn’t help that your voice still cracked in a few places. Thankfully, Jungkook’s ears could easily pick up your voice in the quiet living room that was devoid of all noise besides the rhythmic ticking of the wall clock that hung on your wall.
“I appreciate the apology, Jungkook. Thank you, truly. And I understand you’re in a really stressful place, but you don’t get to take it out on me.” Your voice gained more confidence at the end, which you were grateful for, wanting to convey that you will never allow him to use you in the same way again.
“You’re absolutely right.”
“Jungkook, have you ever had to deal with anything like this before? With nosy reporters and media outlets prying into your private details?” You were genuinely curious, not ever having to deal with it yourself, personally. But unlike you, Jungkook made a name for himself, a well known one that would capture the attention of the world around him.
“I take it you don’t read tabloids?” He chuckled at you humorlessly.
Not wanting to confess to essentially stalking the young CEO through various news outlets and social media, you decided to tell a white lie.
“I tend to skim through the news for important bits and that’s about it.”
He made a face of mild amusement, not quite believing you, but choosing to anyways.
“That’s smart. To answer your question, yes, I’ve often had to deal with reporters being in the private details of my life. In fact,” he raised his pointer finger up into the air with emphasis, “–that’s how I found out a former partner of mine was breaking contract with me. And how I found out my father was trying to edge me out of one of my companies many years ago.”
Your jaw dropped from the sudden information, your head still wracking your brain around his words. You sputtered unladylike in response, an action that made him genuinely laugh at your antics. But one thing stuck out to you that you needed an answer to.
“Wait, so–,” you gave him a confused look, “are you saying that your girlfriend, Sun-Yee, was just another contract holder? That’s why you two were together?”
He made a ‘so, so’ sign with his hand, as he gave off a look of indifference on his face.
“Yes, and no. Yes, she was a contract holder, but no, she was never actually my girlfriend. She only ever called herself that to anyone who asked, and I didn’t have the energy or time to correct her words to every single person she told. In the end, I just ignored it, cause she knew where I stood on the matter.”
A look of awe was on your face, your mouth open in a wide ‘o’. She would be the kind of person to do that.
“She broke off the contract with you? Why?” You didn’t believe that it was her that actually did it, you kinda always thought it was him.
“Yes, she did. Not that I really cared. I was close to breaking it off myself from the way she always acted and treated everyone. Both professionally and personally. Like you.” He gave you a look of remorse. “I’m sorry for the way she treated you. It was rude and unfair on her part. It’s actually one of the many reasons I chose you as my personal assistant, other than realizing that you were more than capable for the position. It was also my silent way of apologizing to you for all the times I didn’t, but should’ve, stood up for you and everyone else that crossed her path. Never did I expect that you taking the position would lead me to loving you, but hey–,” he smiled lovingly at you with warm eyes, “I’ll take it.”
“You know you’re an idiot, right?” You stated rhetorically, reaching up to wrap your arms loosely around his neck, hands folding at the nape of his neck as your fingers mindlessly played with his baby hairs.
“Yes.”
“But you’re my idiot.” You reiterated with confidence, now tapping the nape of his neck with your fingers, your silent way of telling him to ‘bring yourself down to my level you giraffe’.
He caught on to your tapping, and reacted instantly, his upper body immediately bending down to efficiently lock eyes with you, now being at your eye level. His hands caressed your sides lovingly, as he smoothly slid them underneath your pajama top with ease. His eyes that were once smiling now changing to one’s of regret, as his fingertips traced over a spot on your hip that was slightly raised. It was the spot where he bit you.
Shit. As soon as you felt his hand run back over the spot on your hip, the spot, you knew he would figure it out. Wanting to wipe the sad look off his face you uttered a few words with love and affirmation before he fell into a dark pit of despair.
“Don’t. I love you.”
Closing the gap between your bodies, your lips clashed against his both as a distraction from his self deprecating thoughts, and because you’ve been wanting to kiss him to see how it felt now that he had a lip piercing. It was everything you dreamed of, and more. It was such a minuscule thing, but it initiated a flame deep within your stomach that wouldn’t be satiated until you both collapsed onto the couch in an entanglement of limbs.
Which is exactly what was currently happening, the kiss having turned into a heated one quickly. Both of your bodies responding to each other with the same amount of desperation and need from being away from each other the last three months. Clothes were either shoved or ripped off, courtesy of Jungkook and R.I.P to your favorite pajama set, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care at this moment.
Now fully nude, Jungkook took a hovering position over you as he abruptly pulled away from the kiss, his knees parting your thighs as you could feel the tip of him languidly swipe over your aching folds. It made you exhale breathlessly and Jungkook groan with his eyes shut, willing himself to not continue until he got your full consent.
Opening his eyes, he looked down at you with a sincere look of worry, his pupils were still blown with a lust filled haze, but you could tell his sole focus was making sure you were okay with what was about to transpire.
Nodding your head, you leaned up to gently kiss him on the lips, a silent signal that he could continue. He whispered lovefelt words into your mouth before thrusting his hips forward into yours, the delicious contact making you whimper into his mouth as you finally felt whole again.
“I love you, y/n.”
Your heart swelled and your eyes rolled into the back of your head at the toe curling, unrelenting, pace of his hips slamming into yours, mouth open in a silent moan he made sure to swallow with his own mouth now back on yours. And you knew for sure, he meant it.
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jananakookie · a day ago
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Rumor Has It | pjm - Chapter 1
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💬 Pairing: Jimin x OC (Reader)
💬 Genre/Tags: enemies(?) to lovers, fake-dating au; angst, fluff, smut
💬 Chapter warnings: contains slut shaming, oc gets slapped in the face, bullying (this will NOT be a falling in love with my bully fic!), angst
💬 Word count: 4.3k
💬 Recap:
Rumor has it, Park Jimin is single again after his latest girlfriend cheated on him with his best friend.
Rumor has it, he's willing to get back at them.
Rumor has it, you're the perfect means to an end.
A/N: Sorry it took so long, I hope you enjoy! Only the first chapter will be in past tense btw
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Chapter 1: How it all began.
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You would never have thought of yourself as someone who has a particular reputation. 
In High School, you used to be the one who went down in the crowd. You had your small group of friends, a couple of boyfriends (if you can even call them that), and a few acquaintances in some of your classes you never talked to outside of school. 
By and large, just the kind of High School experience most people go through.
In that regard, it was all the more surprising to you when you suddenly came to be the center of everyone's attention during your first year of college.
If you now were to talk to someone from back then, they would never have expected that it would be you who would end up in such a situation. 
That it would be you, who’d one day be the probably most talked about person in college - and not in a good way. 
Oh no. Not in a good way, for sure.
And you have absolutely no idea how it could have come to this in the first place.
But you know how it started.
It started with a guy. 
Of course, it did. Every misfortune in a girl's life almost always starts with her meeting a guy, doesn't it?
But every story has its origin, so let's start at the very beginning of the story and how your current situation came about. 
Because it has started much earlier. 
Before everyone knew your name, before everyone dragged it through the mud, used it whenever and for whatever it pleased them. 
Before you were laughed at, yelled at, frowned upon, and especially insulted by people you don't even know.
Before you lost all of your friends and gained almost a whole army of enemies instead.
Even before Park Jimin made an appearance at your apartment door one evening and specifically asked you for a favor. A favor that would remain in your memory for a long time and would mark the beginning of something completely new. 
Something you, for sure, had never expected.
Oh, what have you gotten yourself into?
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Compared to most other colleges, the one you're attending is relatively small, which is probably also one of the reasons why rumors spread so quickly here.
It can be both a disadvantage and an advantage, considering how many people find out in a short time about something that was supposed to be kept secret.
On the other hand, it also means that the gossip factory calms down again faster because the next scandal is already in circulation.
You do not want to offend anyone, and of course, not every guy automatically has to be a prick. There are some good guys out there, and you know they exist, but you also know how extremely rare they are. And unfortunately for you, most of the ones you have had the pleasure of dating so far, fit that pattern perfectly. 
It started with a guy.
And for you, the one who started it all was a guy named Kim Jeongin. 
You started dating Jeongin precisely one month into your first year of college.
He was cute, he was sweet, he was polite and extremely good-looking. And he was interested in you too, which more or less made him a dream come true at that time. 
Many young girls tend to be naive and fall easily for pretty eyes and a hairstyle that looks like the guy just woke up and didn’t care, and you were no exception. 
However, the rude awakening came just a couple of weeks later when you two went out to a party together with your friends, and he kept behaving like an asshole out of nowhere. 
Between getting inappropriately drunk and throwing jokes your way that came across as more than just a little insulting at times, he also somehow started accusing you of hitting on his friends – or any other male person in that building, for that matter. 
Come to think of it now, it's actually kind of funny, considering he was the one who ended up making out with someone that wasn’t you at the end of the night. 
Needless to say, you broke things off right then and there because you might not have been the hottest chick on campus, nor were you the most popular, but you did know your self-worth, and everyone deserves better than that anyway.
But here’s the thing. Jeongin did not see it that way. He didn't appear to take you seriously when you told him you guys were over. You had a slight idea about that when he only started laughing in your angry face that night, saying you were overreacting and seeing things that weren't there, but you were a hundred percent certain when he was standing in front of your door the following morning as if nothing ever happened.
It took a ridiculous amount of time and effort to get rid of him that morning - to get rid of him for good. But eventually, he went on his way with some very colorful insults that left his mouth only to be thrown your way. 
You couldn't help but be relieved to have gotten rid of him. After seeing his true colors, it was more than obvious you really dodged a bullet there.
However, unfortunately, this was not the end of your story with Jeongin. No, that would've been way too easy.
Instead, the following day, he told all his friends that he had dumped you because you were “a dirty, cheating slut“ who cheated on him with not just one but two random guys. 
It was ridiculous, very childish, and immature, but they still believed him, making jokes about how he should have seen it coming and stuff like that.
Them believing his lies wasn’t even that far-fetched, seeing how all of them had brains that stopped growing right after they were born, and did it come to you as a surprise? Hell, no. 
You could sense their stupidity from miles away as soon as you met them for the first time, and that should have been a red flag already. You usually get to know someone best through their friends; to see what type of people they surround themselves with. But for some reason unknown to you, you just thought he would be different.
Long story short, his friends told their friends and other people, and soon enough, most people in your year had heard about it. This was, of course, foreseeable, given how he had quite the reputation as earlier mentioned.
What you did not expect, however, was that even people outside his rather big group of friends believed it.
You still have no idea why so many people even cared about you in the first place. After all, you were close to a nobody. Just a college freshman, having no idea about anything yet and simply wanting to go through the whole college dating experience.
Now, look where this has gotten you.
You didn't find out about all the hassle until just before your first class, when one of your friends came up to you and angrily explained that she never thought you would cheat, leaving you completely perplexed because you didn't even know what was going on in the first place.
You remember feeling both hurt and angry at her for actually believing something as stupid as this, while she should have been on your side and been a good friend. 
Yes, you had not known her for long, but it was the least you expected from your friend.
Of course, seeing how you honestly were a nobody, it was forgotten within a couple of weeks when someone else took your place as the number one topic on campus. And this was college, after all. No one really cared that much.
However, it was the first time that your reputation, even if completely unjustly, suffered a blow, and your name was put in a negative light through the mouths of others. And it did stay in some people's minds even after everyone found something else to gossip about.
You just simply went on with your own life and tried to stay away from anyone who wanted to bring you down. 
After you got over your anger at Jeongin, you even went on dates again because you didn't want to let a loser like him take away your chance to find someone who really wanted to be with you.
A few months later, you were about to meet with a couple other students in the library for a group project when you suddenly noticed how a group of girls not far from you seemed to be talking and giggling about something.
You had noticed how their glances met you from time to time, but you only really realized that you were the actual subject of their conversation when they walked past you and whispered some very unpleasant things in your direction, making sure you’d hear them.
“Is there something you wanted to say to my face?” 
You had no interest in keeping your mouth shut anymore. Whenever you heard someone bad-mouthing you, you made sure they got to hear your opinion on it as well. 
Most of the time this was all it took for them to keep their mouths shut and make them walk away right after, but this time they didn’t. 
This group of girls obviously wanted to achieve more with their whispering than just annoy you.
“No, sorry. My friends and I were just talking about how much of a slut you are,” one of the girls immediately spat at you without even looking at you. Instead, she stubbornly stared at her nails and picked some dirt from under them, acting as if she hadn’t just insulted you like that. 
“Excuse me?” You were taken aback, not gonna lie. You didn’t expect something like that from her just out of the blue. 
As you let your eyes roam over the small group to see if you knew any of them, you quickly realized that you didn't recognize a single one of these girls, which confused you more than anything. 
“Why would you say that?”
“Why would I say that?” She scoffed, finally giving you the honor to fully look at you.
“If you truly don't know, then you should really work on your morals, hun. Just a hint, keep your hands off of guys who are taken, and maybe then the people will stop talking shit behind your back.”
“I’m sorry, I really don’t know what you’re talking about, hun. I don't do that kind of thing. Ever,” you spat back, happy your group partners had yet to arrive.
“Sure you don’t,” she scoffed again, clearly getting even more irritated with you as the conversation got on. “My boyfriend told me everything that went down on Saturday, don't even try to talk your way out of it.”
“Your… what? I really have no idea what you’re talking about. I don’t even know you, nor do I know your boyfriend. Maybe you’re confusing me with someone else?” You tried to be nice, but her judgmental, nasty attitude made it really hard for you.
“I sure as hell am not. As I said, he told me everything.”
“Well, then he didn’t tell you the truth because I’m sure I do not know him,” you argued while trying to keep your voice down. The last thing you needed was somebody else overhearing this conversation and starting yet another wave of rumors about you.
She just took her phone out of her pocket and held it in front of you, opening the lock screen that showed a picture of her and a guy. 
You were surprised to see that you actually did know him. However, you remembered the encounter with him very differently. 
“Okay, well, I see what’s going on here now,“ you sighed, massaging your temples when you felt a slight headache coming up from the frustration. “Look, I swear whatever he told you isn’t the truth. I was not hitting on him or something like that. If anything, he’s the one who came up to me and started being inappropriate.” 
What went down with her boyfriend and how he behaved was much worse than that actually. But you wanted to spare her the details, especially in front of her friends. Everything you wanted was for her to realize that the guy she was dating was a total prick who deserved to be dumped as soon as possible. 
You don’t know what you expected, but she didn’t believe you. She only rolled her eyes, threw another insult your way, and told you to stay away from her boyfriend before walking away. 
Encounters of this or similar kind started to be more or less on the regular after that.
At a certain point, you couldn’t even talk to any guy anymore without their girlfriends giving you judgmental looks or anyone starting rumors about that.
And one day, it got to the point where, according to hearsay from the hallways, you even started taking money in exchange for sexual activities. Ridiculous.
Not to shame sex work as a whole, of course, but you never took place in those actions ever.
The rumor mill was bubbling, and somehow so many people joined in that it never really calmed down at all.
And so it came about that you were shunned by most people - as far as it could be arranged. No one really wanted to have anything to do with you anymore, afraid their relationship might break down, or their own reputation might suffer. And you started to seclude yourself as well.
It went on like that for quite a while. You lived your life, and so did everybody else. It was lonely, but it was definitely bearable. At least you got by. 
That was until you got yet another blow. And the hardest and deadliest blow was given to you by someone you would never have expected it from. 
If you thought it could not have been worse for you, you were mistaken because shit only started to escalate really badly when Kim Taehyung was caught cheating on his girlfriend at a frat party at the end of the spring semester in junior year. 
He and his girlfriend Nayeon were something like the power couple of your college... even if it sounds so immensely stupid, one could guess it's a joke. But no, everybody loved Taehyung and Nayeon both as a couple and individually.
So him cheating on her was something everyone was candidly talking about. 
Apparently, some person had taken a picture of him in a very heated make-out session with a girl who was definitely not his girlfriend. And it spread around campus like wildfire.
Of course, everyone was dying to know who the mystery girl in this photo was, and the revelation allegedly came only a couple of hours later when his girlfriend confronted him about it, to which he then claimed that it was you. 
Jung Nayeon, just like Kim Taehyung, was held in high esteem in your college, thanks to not only her incredible beauty but also her warm-hearted and equally beautiful character. So it was no surprise at all that Taehyung's confession added an entirely new dimension to your already bad reputation. 
If it had at least been the truth…
However, the truth was that, in your entire life, you have never even exchanged a single word with him, let alone had any kind of physical contact. 
So why would he make something like that up and hurt you with it when you had nothing to do with the whole thing in the first place?
Well, you had been thinking about this question for a long time, but the answer is actually quite simple: he didn't want to hurt the girl he was actually involved with behind his girlfriend's back. And the easiest way to do that was to find a scapegoat that would have to take all the blame instead of her.
And no one would fit the role better than you.
Turned out that he made an exceptionally smart decision there. 
No one has even entertained the thought of questioning his statement. No one. Not one single person.
And just like that, your reputation had suffered another serious blow, and you went from being “the campus mattress” to the most hated person on campus without even knowing what was going on.  
You learned about the latest rumors about you only a few hours later. You had just come out of class and were on your way home when you suddenly noticed the dirty glances of all the people in the hallway, no doubt directed at you. 
In fact, it, unfortunately, wasn't that uncommon for you to get dirty looks, and you hadn't even thought much about it, but just figured it was probably a new rumor going around. And in a way, you were right. 
However, you didn't expect that this rumor would have a much wider reach and that many more students would be interested in it than in the ones before.
That realization came rather quickly after you walked outside the building and were instantly met with a hard slap across your face. 
Gasping in shock, you stared at your attacker with tears already starting to form in your eyes from the pain that was spreading out on your face. 
“Nayeon?” Gaping at the girl standing there in front of you, looking at you with so much hatred in her eyes, you blinked a couple of times to try and get rid of the tears that had started to form.
“How could you do that to me, you disgusting piece of shit?!” She yelled right in your face, tears pricking at her eyes while she pointed her finger in your face, almost poking your eye out in the process. 
Still not knowing what was going on, you just looked around with a frown, trying to see if there was anything that would give you at least an indication of what was happening. But there was nothing.
“You’re so embarrassing. It is sad, really,” she spat.
“And to think that I always used to defend you in front of everybody else,” she scoffed, making a disgusted face at you. “Looks like what they're saying is true after all. You really are a slut. And you’re pathetic. Stay away and leave your dirty, STD-infected hands off my boyfriend.” 
“What?” You breathed, blinking up at Taehyung, standing a couple of feet behind her. He immediately looked away as soon as your eyes met his, and that was when you finally connected the dots.
He used you as an excuse.
Feeling your lips wobble already from being overwhelmed and completely humiliated, you turned away without another word, trying to escape the scene as soon as you could. 
Usually, you’re anything but a crybaby, but this really had to be the worst situation you’ve ever been in. 
Getting slapped across the face yelled at, and savagely insulted by someone you used to admire, someone you thought wasn’t like the rest of them, was bad enough. But having all of this happen in front of hundreds of people you knew won’t have your back was utterly embarrassing and an overall horrible feeling.
As you tried to push your way through Nayeon’s friends, you could clearly hear them calling you names, but you didn't pay them any attention. The only goal you had right then was to leave everyone’s eyes as fast as you could.
Don’t ever mess with the biggest sweetheart on campus, who’s loved and admired by everybody. Especially if you're already at the bottom of the food chain anyway.
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You didn’t go to any classes for the whole week after that incident.
The shame and embarrassment of this encounter with Nayeon prevented you from even leaving your small apartment at all. You didn't even dare to go grocery shopping, which, in retrospect, was kind of stupid, considering that it wasn’t the whole town that was out to get you - even if it felt like it. 
Still, you stayed away from people for as long as you could.
No one would have expected that it would be Park Jimin himself, of all people, who would get you out of the line of fire and reveal the truth to everyone a few weeks later. 
You only picked it up through hasty whispers in the hallways, but he was supposedly the one who figured out that the girl in the photo had not been you. 
And the reason for all the commotion wasn't that your name could now be cleared - oh no. All of a sudden, no one was even the slightest bit interested in you. 
No, the real reason for the uproar was the exposure of the person that was actually behind it all. 
And it was probably pure irony of fate when Jimin made public that the actual person in the photo was none other than his own girlfriend. 
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Her name was Lee Yeji.
You didn't actually know that much about her, to be honest. She was mostly known for being Park Jimin's girlfriend and part of Nayeon's friend group. But you did remember her standing next to Nayeon when she confronted you that day. 
Oh, how the tables have turned now.
Something deep inside you, something sordid and disgusting, felt the need to feel something like satisfaction. 
After all, Nayeon humiliated you in front of all her friends and a sizable crowd. Would it really be wrong to see it as some sort of fulfillment that the real culprit was actually one of her closest friends?
You didn't really know what to make of it, but one thing was for sure: the news didn't bring you any joy. Not even the fact that you were off the hook made you happy because as already mentioned, nobody cared about you anyway. But as fate would have it, you still cared about Nayeon even after everything that happened between the two of you. And you couldn't imagine what she was going through. 
One thing was for sure, it must have been awful. And no matter how badly she humiliated you, you didn't think she deserved that kind of pain because no one does. 
Her friend and her boyfriend? You wouldn’t wish that on your worst enemy. 
Taehyung is trash, and honestly you think she should be happy to have gotten rid of him. A girl like her can do so much better than a cheater like him. You just hoped she'd realize that as well. But you remember her and Yeji being somewhat close. Especially since Nayeon and Jimin are also very close friends and apparently knew each other longer than the rest of them have at that point. 
And that brings us to the actual person of interest: Park Jimin.
What is there to know about Park Jimin? 
Well, everybody knows about him, that much is sure. 
As far as you know, his family is pretty well off, considering his parents run some kind of business you have no idea about, but if you can believe the whispers in the halls (and that's not certain, considering all the rumors being spread about you), then his family is probably one of the most influential in the city.
You never cared much about him. He always seemed just like the typical rich kid, whose only personality trait is… well, being rich. Only sharing a couple of classes, you didn’t get to know him enough to really form a fair opinion on him, though.
You just know things concerning his personality from Nayeon, and she has always insisted that his reputation does not live up to him, that he can be a cocky ass at times but is a totally different guy in private. 
You never told her that, but you always thought that she was a bit biased in that regard. After all, they both come from the same circles and have known each other since childhood. But you also know how wrong you can be about a person and that you never really know someone just by hearing what people say about them. 
The only thing you can give him credit for is that, as far as you know, he has always stayed out of any rumors concerning you. Well, you cannot know that for sure, but at least he never attacked you personally.
He has never insulted you or even given you the same judgmental looks you usually get from most other students. And it's sad to say that because it should go without saying, especially in college, but you're still very grateful to him for that. It at least means that he cannot be a complete douchebag, after all. 
Nevertheless, you must have looked very surprised when, about a month after the infamous incident, none other than Park Jimin himself knocked on your door. 
With a small bouquet of tulips in his hand (which, by the way, looked very similar to the ones blooming in your neighbors' garden) and a big grin on his face, he stood in front of you and stared you down, probably judging the pair of dirty sweatpants and the old, much too big t-shirt you had on. 
It took you a moment to even realize that it was really him. That's how preposterous the whole situation was.
And at that time, you didn't even know that all this would be just the beginning of a story you couldn't have imagined better in your dreams.
tagged: @ggukkieland | @ttaeby
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sweetieguk · a day ago
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enchanted dream; 01 | kth
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𝐈. 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐒 
moodboard  ;  cinematic playlist 
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⇴ pairing: taehyung x (f) reader ft. kim line ⇴ genre: wolf au, college au; supernatural romance, mystery, angst, fluff, eventual smut ⇴ rating: 18+  ⇴ word count: 10.3k
⇴ summary: ❝ You were warned to stay away from the recently immigrated Kim Brothers with all their standoffish behavior. Which shouldn’t have been so hard for you when all you wanted to do was move away to the big city. But when Kim Taehyung suddenly joined your school in your last semester of college, you couldn’t help being mesmerized. Because being told to avoid them only made you want to do it that much more. Little did you know that it was neither theirs or your own volition, let alone expect to be plunged into this whole new world you never knew existed. ❞
⇴ chapter contents: slow burn, love at first sight but make it complicated, some pining, wolf!tae, taehyung is an enigma at first, but a sweet guy at heart, cursing, body horror, descriptions of of panic attack and nightmares/dreams, mentions of: massacre, traumatic events, abandonment, scars, amnesia nsfw: sexual tension, some ogling, scenting, kissing, neck kissing, some touching, dry humping, semi-public fondling.
authors note: inspired by a scene in twilight and reposted from my old blog. it’s slightly edited, but not much. originally beta read by @lavienjin, thank you so much for reading over this chapter. it really meant a lot to me. ♡︎ thanks again to @yoonia​, for helping me with the banner when i was struggling back then, aha. it came out just how i’d envisioned it.♡︎ writing this fic was a fight in and of itself but i’d like to thank those who helped me along the way, i really enjoyed the process and i’ve decided to share it once again. please do share what you think, happy reading ♡︎♡︎♡︎
𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄: 𝐧𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟎𝐭𝐡, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟏
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Deep blue, forest green, ash gray, fiery red, and midnight black. 
For as long as you could remember you’ve only dreamt of those colors.  
They flash vibrantly just beneath your eyelids as you lay on your bed. So deep in slumber, nothing could wake you. 
With every dream, you’d twitched as you tried to decipher what the possible colors meant. Eyes shifting back and forth in fast intervals only to be greeted with outlines of disjointed images. The details, blurred until all you’re left with was a mixture of indistinguishable colors. 
Trying to find your way out, only to find the pigments enveloping you in sudden darkness. They caged you into stillness, and you’re left feeling frightened and abandoned.  
In this vulnerable state, you would try to tune into your senses, but you're faced simply with white noise.  
When all hope is lost, you’d feel yourself enter into a simultaneous state of sinking and floating. A feeling so foreign to you, that it’s as if your body was being pulled into two different directions, stretching, stretching, and then nothing. 
But tonight was different. 
Because in this dream you continued to stretch until you couldn’t any longer; until amongst the white noise a soft voice whispered your name. 
The voice ebbed and flowed, entering your ears from various distances. You couldn’t be too sure with the sounds muted and muffled.  
A sudden brightness disrupted the darkness, and it was then you realized that amid the confusion, the previous darkness was of your doing, having squeezed your eyes shut.  
You squinted at the light, slowly opening your eyes, before looking around to find yourself surrounded by water. Fear crawled under your skin that your head frantically looked upwards, and there you saw, just above the surface of the water, a small silhouette peeking over the top of you.  
You reached out your hand, as best you could under the tumultuous waves of the water, in hopes that they would save you from your imminent doom.  
Your eyes briefly moved to your inner elbow, willing it to extend despite the weight of the water pressing down against you.  
And then it did; your elbow stretching outward until your fingertips grazed the  surface. 
Relief flowed through your body. You chanced a glance up at the water bank once again to see that the figure had disappeared.  
The distance between the tips of your fingers and the water's surface distorted and lengthened by an immeasurable amount. So much so, that the surface was no more than the size of a pinhole. 
You stayed there, floating in disbelief. The chills of the water finally register in your worried state, and you begin to pale. Little crystals formed on your skin, your body ran ice cold and you began to panic.  
A whirlwind of water circled you as you thrashed around in an attempt to call out to the figure, but it’s to no avail, only leaving your body an exhausted and shivered mess. 
But you will yourself to try again.  
In another attempt you opened your mouth to scream, your lips widening to take up one-third of your face, but no sound leaves you. Instead, all the water that surrounds you rushes into you. Forcefully pouring down your throat, you looked down to see your stomach swelling and bubbles escaping your nose at the sudden action. 
You desperately tried to close your mouth, but it was glued open, as the water continued to spill into you. Small whimpers left the back of your throat and you found yourself sinking further until the darkness consumed you yet again.  
But the voice—you noted as you found yourself slipping into unconsciousness, the voice remained; ebbing and flowing once again, continuously increasing in volume, with your name ringing louder and louder until it sounded right into your ears… 
You gasped awake, your eyes jumped wide open to be greeted with a sudden luminosity. Your hands reached out to grasp a hold of your comforter. Hands gripped so tight, your fingertips imprint through the fabric and into the palms of your hands. 
The sharp pain is masked by the pounding of your heart. It hits against your chest so hard that it deafens your ears from all other sounds, amplifying the struggle of your heart in your rib cage. The unrhythmic beating flutters in your chest as it tries to get a grasp of your surroundings.   
Your eyes squeezed shut again as you attempted to calm your breathing. You take in deep inhales through your nose and exhales out your mouth, with the tip of your tongue pressed against the roof of your mouth. A method you've found to help you whenever this recurring dream haunts you. You continued to fill your lungs until your heart returned to its resting state. 
It’s the rustling of the leaves outside your bedroom window that pulled you out of your daze. And you hesitantly open your eyes to see that you're situated in the comfort of your bed, mountains of pillows that were once pinned against your bed frame now skewed about at either end on the floor. Orange piles of fabric at the legs of the bed.
Fully out of your reverie, you let out a yawn, closing one eye while you glanced around your bedroom. 
A halo of light illuminated your entire room, highlighting the mess of papers and pens on your computer desk but it also allowed the warmth of the sun to kiss your face, and you savored the feeling. 
You squinted at the glow, your eyes drawn to sunlight that beams through your small window. And you wished it was larger, that you could always admire the trees changing colors in the autumn air. You observe the birds that flock in the sky and note how high up the sun is for such an early morning. 
You languidly blinked at the thought and grimaced at the feeling of sweat that stuck to your skin. And you remained there, gathering your bearings of what had happened yet again, for the third night in a row.  
But this time, however, you noticed that in your dream—or nightmare rather, there were more details than usual. Where in previous nights there would only be colors that left you confused, in this one there was a voice. But it wasn’t a voice that you could place. You couldn't distinguish whether it was a man or a child. 
But still, it was more than anything you’ve experienced before.   
You pressed your lips together at the thought, milling it over in your head until you heard the distant shuffles and clamor from downstairs becoming clearer as you shake yourself out of your daze. 
Your eyes widened in surprise at the loud shut of your front door that signaled your uncle has just left for work. And it's with horror that you realized that you’ve slept in and that you’d be late for the first day of your last semester of school.   
You stumbled out of your bed, the comforter tangling in between your legs, and causing you to trip and fall—missing the barrier of the pillows of course, and you hit your knee on the hardwood floor. 
“Shit!” You winced, collecting yourself once more and limping to your bathroom that’s adjacent to your room. A shrill voice rang out from below, your name reaching your ears in an instant.
“Is that you?” Concern clear in their tone. “What are you still doing at home, shouldn’t you be at school?”
“Yea!” you yelled back, soothing your bruised knee for a moment once you arrived at the bathroom, before rushing to put your hair into a messy bun,  stuffing the few silver strands you were graciously endowed with and tucking it behind your other locks. You didn’t have enough time to wash it the night before, staying up all night to organize your schedule, even scribbling down the dates of your future assignments. 
“I’ll be down in a minute!” You shouted back,  grabbing the ends of your shirt and pulling it over the top of your head. The strands of hair you so carefully tucked, pops out of place to frame your face. You sighed, why hadn't you done this sooner?  
You were such a mess right now, flailing around and about with the hopes of getting to class on time. You hated being late, it threw off your entire day and made it harder to concentrate in class.  
Staring at your reflection, now with your nightshirt crumpled in your hand, your eyes couldn’t help but gaze across your torso. Your eyes moved along your stomach and up to your chest, observing the goosebumps that litter your skin, and the way your nipples pebble in contact with the cold draft of the fall air in your small cottage house. Your eyes try earnestly to remain there but seem to migrate on their own, and lingered at the revolting scar that marks your otherwise blemish-free skin.  
The longer you stare the more it nauseated you. You know you shouldn’t think so poorly about something you were born with but, to be frank, it’s such an eyesore. Black and blistered that it looked as if it was bubbling, it made you gag if you stared long enough. Never mind it was the reason you never wore cropped shirts or bikinis of any kind as the birthmark was large and big enough to peek through.  
Whatever. That didn’t matter because you had a slight aversion to water, and no one wanted to talk to you anyways… 
 Well, maybe Jisu did. But you couldn’t be too sure if she liked you, or if she let you hang out with her because you stuck to her like a fly on rotten fruit ever since you started college.   
It wasn't like you were an outcast or anything, you considered yourself to be pretty nice if people made an effort to get to know you. But you were an orphan- word spread fast around here, and people acted as if they would experience the same fate of what they'd consider an unfortunate loss if they said even a measly ‘hi’ to you. 
 It didn’t help that you had no recollection of your parents either. It became rather tiresome to defend the actions of people you barely knew to others. But despite this, you had no hate of malice towards your parents, you knew life was difficult back then with the town in constant disagreement with the nomadic community. You were only left with questioning where they were now, and how different life would have been were they in it. But you never let it go too far, because this was your reality, constantly dealing with infuriating people. 
You tried your best to ignore your peers, only having brief friendships and relationships that never truly lasted. But it’s hard not to notice the way pity was always associated with their gazes at you. Never feeling like you truly fit in. Honestly, you’re just trying to push through school, get good grades, maybe receive a couple of scholarships. You wanted nothing more than to leave this shitty excuse of a town and move to the city, where you could attend a real college… 
Not the one your town had—barely scraping up one hundred students and plastering ‘community college’ on a building, where the atmosphere wasn’t anything different from high school. Same people, same drama, same lingering stares, it was getting old fast. You needed a change, craved it, even. Especially if you planned on getting your Master's in Social Work. 
The urge to move out was the only thing that drove you these days. The desire to leave was so intense that it’s all you thought about other than doing school work.  Having a fresh start and moving to a place where no one knew you, a place where you didn’t feel so out of place—a place that felt like home. 
An exhale left your mouth at the thought. So close, so close, just three months to go an—  
“Hey, are you still up there?”  
“Ah fuck,” you mutter under your breath, rushing to rid yourself of your pants, “I’ll be right there, Auntie!” You hollered back as you finally returned to the task at hand, and hopped into the shower.
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You frantically ran down the steps. Your knit sweater was awkwardly pulled off to the side under your jacket with the way your backpack was messily tossed over one shoulder. The zipper only closed three-quarters of the way. 
You whizzed through the living room and entered the kitchen, heading straight  towards the fridge first to see if there was anything quick and easy that you could eat on your way to school.  
Your eyes jumped from one thing to another: a ketchup bottle, cottage cheese, and celery. All of them were things you couldn’t munch on or make a quick meal out of.
Well, you could snack on some celery as you bike your way to campus, but you’d rather step on a Lego piece than put that horrid thing in your mouth.
 You let out a  sigh and turned to the table, desperate to find something, anything to get your mind ready for the new semester ahead.
 Just as your hands grabbed a hold of an apple, the quick little shuffles of your aunt's feet held  your attention. She stood at the arched entrance with an eyebrow lifted at you. 
“Hey dear, what happened? You never sleep through your alarm," she said with concern, squeezing past you to the counter and aiming for the kettle. 
 “I know,”  you blinked, stilling when you realized that you forgot to even do that last night. 
 You turned your head to look at her. The grip on the apple tightened as you slid it by your side and stuffed it into your shortfall jacket.
 “What's been going on with you these days? It’s so unlike you to be late for school?”
 You continued to blink at your aunt's words, blankly staring at the way she so carefully pours the hot water from her kettle into her morning coffee mug.
 It was so unlike you. This dream would come and go in passing, but the dreams that you’ve been having for the past three days pulled you into a deep slumber. Something akin to the deep sleep of Snow White, and Sleeping Beauty, even, rendering you victim to a vicious cycle of constant dread and anxiety for when nightfall arrived. You had to prepare yourself each night in case you’d be left to fend for yourself against the colors that haunted you.
You awkwardly chuckled. “I don’t know, I must've been studying too hard for the finals last semester.” Knowing that couldn’t have been the reason at all. 
You shrugged at your aunt then rushed out of the kitchen and headed towards the front door to put on your slip-on shoes. “Ya, what did I tell you about that coat of yours, that's not warm enough!” she called out after you. You forced a cheeky smile her way and grinned at the way she reprimanded your outerwear with the classic way her forehead pinched together. 
With a wiggle of your brows, you teased and distracted her with a quick, “GOODBYE AUNTIE IM LEAVING.”  
You found yourself chuckling as you hurriedly skipped down the front steps. Could your aunt blame you? You loved the feeling of the wind against you, it was nice to feel it against your skin.  But your bike—you smirked, observing it perched on a tree with a deep grin carving your face, made it even better.
 You dusted off the yellow and orange leaves that had fallen on your bike seat. And hauled it out of the divot it made in the grass. Settling yourself on top of it and making your way out of your yard and onto the pathway.
Though you peddled with a fervent pace along the familiar path, you couldn’t help but soak in the vibrant reds, oranges, and yellows that replaced the greens of the plants that surrounded you, even though time wasn’t necessarily on your side. 
If anything, this would be the one thing you’d miss if you were to leave town. You assumed that the  pollution in the city left everything dull and muted, sucking out all the beauty of nature that would otherwise be seen, hidden in plain sight. Masked by all the hustle and bustle of new-found livelihood. Where tall skyscrapers and tar paved roads were in place instead of lakes, ponds, and trees.
You bit your lip at the thought. Nonetheless, you had to lose some to gain the same. You decided that you  would take the last three months to absorb all that you could. So why not focus on the now?  
You only had two minutes left until you reached campus,  so you turned your ears to the crisp of the leaves on the ground as you rode over the top of them. You let the gentle breeze wisp through your baby hairs. You closed your eyes briefly letting the wind kiss your skin and ears. Every bike ride left you feeling exhilarated and free.  
 Approaching the school, you made your way to find a place to lock your bike in place. But when you arrived you were greeted with such a sight. A barrier of students, huddling like a pack of sardines at the front entrance.  You slowed down, hopping off the bike and walking tentatively with it by your side as you made sense of what the commotion could be about. Hushed whispers and shifty glances were made to what you assumed to be the main attraction.  
 “Is that them?” you heard one student say.
 “No way, that can’t be…” another whispered in the ear of the other. Each person was unaware that you were trying to get through.
You sifted through the crowd as carefully as you could, but swiftly enough to find the spot you have in mind. 
 On your way there, you saw the back of the head of someone familiar. 
 “Hey, Jisu,” you quipped a few feet away, “Jisu?” you harshly repeated. “What's going on?” Your eyes planted on her and the blatant way she continued to ignore you, you sighed making your way over and pushing your way through. Your patience was running thin.
 Once you’re near, you scolded at her behavior “Yea Jisu, didn’t you hear-”  You were close to giving her shit, when something in your peripheral vision caught your eye. Just one foot away from the said bike rack stood three of the most breathtaking specimens you’ve ever laid eyes on.
 You couldn’t help yourself and be drawn to them like a magnet.  Their presence was so alluring. Their aura radiated in waves towards you and it was so...weird.  You couldn’t tear your eyes from them even if you tried to. If you did, it's as if it would insult their beauty.
 It was in slow motion, the way your eyes traced the lines and figures of the giants in front of you, Catching the way they stood strong on their feet. Your breath hitched at their demeanor, seeming arrogant as they were paying no mind to the way the students were gaping at them. Continuing to talk amongst themselves, as if you didn’t exist. 
 All three of them had sharp and distinct features. But there was something so similar between all of them, and it wasn't just the fur coat they had on, so you wondered to yourself if they were related. 
 Your eyes migrated to the one on the left first, his stature tall and broad like a tree. Short dark hair, his face was fairly round. Your eyes squinted at the way he lightly chuckled at what the other's said, and there you saw the way dimples dented his cheeks. And it was so fascinating to see  a man who radiated so much power; who carried himself like a leader, could have such a cute facial feature. 
 Then your eyes shifted to the one on the right; the one with the wide shoulders and dark medium-length hair that was pushed back in a way that exposed his forehead. He was freakishly handsome. If it wasn’t for the way he squeaked when he laughed, you would’ve thought he was an actor in a past life.  
 But then your eyes lingered, that they did, on the man in the center.  You're glued to his condescending stare and at the way his dark hair fell into his eyes. Only peeks of what you thought to be his brown eyes shifting underneath. His fur coat hung on his wide shoulders with his hands tucked into his pockets.
  His presence exceeded both of the others combined, but it wasn't because he was any taller, or anything of the sort. In fact, he was the shortest of the two. But it was the way he carried himself, and stealthily took glances at everyone while still engaged in conversation. He surveyed the crowd with something akin to caution, disdain, and indifference, or maybe it was the combination of them all. 
 You couldn’t be too sure. But if you were sure about one thing, it was that he caught your eye. 
 “Jisu,”  you leaned over, your voice barely a whisper and your left hand hitting the side of her leg, “Who is that?” you inquired, your eyes still trained on the man with brown locks in his eyes,  the man who avoids eye contact with the sleeves of his fur coat running past his fingertips.  
 Jisu shifted closer to you, her eyes also trained on the boys whose beauty was unmatched and unworldly. She leaned in close to the side of your face, her breath shallowly hitting against the shell of your ear. 
 “Kim Taehyung.”
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Your body stilled at Jisu’s words, while your eyes trained on the man of your interest. You’re glued to him, even as he and the rest of the students dispersed and made their way to their respective destinations. With every step of his amble walk towards the building, there’s a heavy ball in your chest that drops heavier and heavier as seconds go by. With each moment you remain frozen, your feet plastered on the cement ground as your bike is left leisurely by your side, on the verge of collapsing, but you pay no mind to it. No, because with the name your friend so hesitantly whispered in your ear, your throat goes dry once you’ve finally wrapped your head around what she had just revealed to you. 
 Kim Taehyung—as in one of the three brothers, Kim Namjoon and Kim Seokjin being the other two. Or, the Kim Brothers, as they were collectively called—were synonymous to red flags, as you recalled the last town council meeting you attended. 
 There was a great deal in the announcement of these boys moving in. But not much could be said about them. The only knowledge before their arrival was that they’d be staying for a semester's length of time, and that the old mansion they're staying in has been a family heirloom of theirs for hundreds of years. But their family had since packed up and left decades ago—so why were they back and why were they here of all places? The shittiest town they could have possibly come to for an education. But what was strange for certain was the arrival of the brothers. Who would have known that the brothers whose names were said with such uncertainty, whose names were said with a grave warning—were perhaps the most beautiful men you’ve ever seen in your entire life.
 Many of the older townspeople seemed off in the way they appeared to say less than what they knew. Something that not many people caught on to unless they were well—you. 
 You had an eye for that sort of thing, catching onto minute details that would otherwise have been missed. Call it weird or whatever, but there wasn’t much to do around here so people watching was something that came as a hobby to you. In addition, it’s something you pride yourself on, a skill that majorly contributed to your stellar marks and performance in school.
 Blinking at the place the men once occupied, the shapes and outline of their form were still so vivid in your mind.  You couldn’t help but be in a complete daze as you stared off at the bike rack where they were only mere inches away. It was no surprise that hushed voices escaped all the students and instructors alike at the scene. 
 You weren’t an exception by any means—if the hairs on your arms standing pin straight at their cold and eccentric demeanor, wasn’t enough of an indicator. And Kim Taehyung, you thought with parted lips and bated breath, he was something else entirely. He was breathtaking and he hadn’t done anything but stand there. You bit your lip at the thought, this worried you especially if he had you this distracted; so out of focus that you remained the only person left standing outside in the chilly autumn air.
 You rushed to class like a madwoman, zipping through the halls and dodging people. If you were going to be late, you’d at least hope that your favorite spot by the windows was vacant. This particular classroom had the best view of the entire town. 
 By the time you reach the room, you’re slightly sweating. But you’re relieved that the doors haven’t closed yet, and when you enter, that the professor was nowhere in sight. You narrowed in on your seat and dashed for it. You're preoccupied with the task at hand, your legs driving you as fast as you can, when suddenly you're met with a wall. Stumbling backward and slightly disoriented, you stop in your tracks and shift your eyes away from your seat to turn your head with an apology on the tip of your tongue to the looming figure by your side. Though, it never came out when you saw exactly who you bumped into.
Stuck in place, your eyes widened, and your mouth parts when you’re met with the breathtaking view of Kim Taehyung. His proximity caused your heart to flutter in your chest. His cold stare met you for only a brief moment before they widened as equally the size of yours. His eyes fleeted across your enamored face taking every minuscule detail. Inching closer to you until his breath softly fanned over your face, saving everything to memory. And it’s as if you were the only two in the room, the noiseless chatter disappearing in the background as you two drew closer to each other, magnets pulling closer and closer. His curious gaze only lasted a few moments before his nose traveled near your neck.
 You closed your eyes at the movement, your heart positively beating so hard, you wouldn’t be surprised if he felt the thumping of it as well. The apology lodged deeper in your throat as light exhales kissed the sensitive skin of your neck. 
 Each one caused your skin to heat up under his vicinity. You’re left standing, eyes closed in a soft gaze, waiting. For what, only God could tell. But the spell-like trance you found yourself in was one you wanted to stay in. Pulling you under in a way you never wanted to escape. 
 But just as quickly you indulged in his presence, letting his entire being engulf all of your senses. It is ripped from you just as fast. Your eyes fluttered open to meet with a different expression than how he welcomed you with.
 His face twisted into an unreadable expression, his brows pinched together and his nose flared at you. 
 For a reason unknown to you, you find yourself needing to spill the apology that was once forgotten, but it's cut short when you catch the way he suddenly jerked backward to cover his nose with the long sleeves of his fur coat. 
 He wrinkled his nose in a fashion that would have been comedic with the way it scrunched up like a little animal if it wasn’t directed at you. His head frantically shaking to the side with the way he seemingly gaped at you with horror, shuffling backward and hitting the desks. He rushed out of the seminar room as if he had smelt something foul... as if you were foul. His face was indiscernible and no doubt it made you feel awful.
What just happened? You wondered just as the perception of your senses returned to you. And the absence of sound—albeit the low humming of the heater bled into your ears. You’re hurdled back into reality at a perplexing rate, and your eyes jump across the room in the unusual way the once bearable light is now blinding. The intensity of the brightness caused you to squint around the room. 
 You let out an awkward chuckle as you caught how the once loud and boisterous room suddenly went dead silent at the scene. Dozens of eyes of now nameless faces trained on you. Your feet tripped forward at their glares, propelling your feet to move. 
The haste in your step was no longer there as you made your way over and collapsed onto the wooden chair. Trying to salvage yourself from any further embarrassment you pulled your bag off your back and lazily by the desk legs. You chance another look at the desks Taehyung had pushed to the side in his escape and your heart sank.
 The stares of the other students were so palpable it became uncomfortable to watch them, cupping their hands around their mouths as they whispered to each other. With a tongue at your cheek, you return to face forward in your seat.
 Now you’re used to the pity stares, didn’t even notice them anymore. Usually, you were the type of person who wouldn’t let these sorts of reactions get to you. But you haven’t had very many encounters with boys. Sure, you fooled around here and there. And if you were interested in someone, you'd get with them���albeit with boundaries with regards to what you’d let them see and touch. But again, there were so few boys to choose from in this small little town. And suddenly Taehyung comes in and pulls you like no other. 
He was so close to you, you could feel the heat radiate off his skin and envelope you. Everything was just so confusing, but his behavior had you baffled beyond belief.  
 You lowered your head into the palms of your hand for a moment, playing with your baby hairs, attempting to brush the incident to the side. While you stay there with your eyes on the floor, you see white shoes appear just beneath the desk. A shadow blocked the harsh artificial lights of the room and you lifted your head to see Jisu peering over the top of you. She calls out to you with a skeptical look.
 “Hey...are you okay?” 
 You sighed, lifting your head to look at your friend as she plops down on the seat next to you. Her hands were already preoccupied to get the contents of her bag onto her desk, before hearing your answer, “Nothing new.”
 Jisu’s hands froze and she looked at you with a lifted brow. “That was crazy, it was like the two of you were in your own little world. Didn’t you hear me call you?” Eyebrows shooting for the ceiling, you gave your friend an incredulous look.
 “You were?”
 Rolling her eyes, Jisu got comfortable and pulled out her phone to use her camera to check herself out, “Yea, but then he freaked out. What the fuck was that about, what has he never seen a girl before? He might be a hottie, but that was a total dick move.  What the hell  is wrong with him?”
 “Maybe he has allergies or something,” you mumbled, your eyes squinting as if you’d find the answer that way. 
 Jisu let out a hearty laugh. “Allergies? He fucking repelled you with how far he jumped back away from you.”
 You groaned at her; you didn’t need to be reminded. Of course, you knew what it looked like, you weren’t stupid. But at the very least you wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt.  Why else would he react like that?
 You’re so deep in thought, that it's the dimming of the lights that let you know that the professor arrived and that class was starting. But you couldn't concentrate. Your brain was constantly going over what had happened earlier on repeat like a broken record.
  Throughout the entire lecture, your mind would return to the look on his face. The way he blanched as if he'd seen a ghost, his eyes doubling in size. And you just sat there with your lip between your teeth. Your head was clouded with numerous thoughts and ideas. Am I that fetid… It only took one for you to spiral. So much so, the discussion of different social processes and cultural products went through one ear and out the other. Instead, your eyes constantly skimmed the room to check if Taehyung ever returned.
And much to your dismay, he didn’t.
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A week has passed, and if you thought that Taehyung's weird and nonsensical behavior would subside, you were wrong. 
If anything, it got even more bizarre, he wasn’t outlandish or out there, in fact, his actions were subtle, and at first, you weren’t sure if you were imagining it or not. Like the way he walked on the edges of the classroom, taking the longest route to his seat. But as time went on you were sure he only acted that way around you.
 There was one day in particular where you sat with Jisu, eating a quick snack in between your classes when Taehyung happened to walk by, alongside his brothers whom he never strayed far from. You were munching on the vegetable whose name you shall never speak of. You wouldn’t if you had a choice but you were in a rush that morning. You overslept yet another dream, wrapping you in endless shapes and colours. 
  So there you were reluctantly nibbling on the horrid thing while trying to evade your nightmare and focus on your upcoming assignments. Appearing just in the corner of your eye,  you saw the way Taehyung briefly looked at you with a pensive look on his face, his eyes furrowing, and lips straightening to the line. But as soon as you turned in his direction, it would disappear and he’d snap his head straight ahead and down the hall, pretending to pay attention to what his brothers were saying when he wasn’t. 
 It was weird for sure. But you couldn’t help but feel bad, and somewhat sympathize with them. Maybe he was anti-social or something. It kind of made sense with the way all three of them were ostracized by the teacher and students alike. Eyes watching their every move as if they were zoo animals. Always on them, but never approaching them like actual human beings. The way people treated them was reminiscent of how people treated you when they accidentally mentioned something about their parents, and they fumbled with their words as if they had to apologize for something neither of you had control over. But at least for you,  you found a way to blend into the best of your ability.  The brothers made it impossible for themselves.
 At least to you, the Kim Brothers stuck out like a sore thumb. They were close with each other in a way you’ve never seen between siblings before. Play fighting all the time, but also leaving affectionate touches, whether it be a hand or a hug, more often than not, they’d bid each other farewell with their foreheads against each other and you found that very intriguing.
 As time passed, you may have found yourself giving Taehyung a fair portion of looks from across the room. Tracing over the way he’d hunch over his desk, like he didn’t want to be there and rather do something else. You’d find yourself squinting at him as it seemed as though he was muttering something to himself. His voice was low in a deep growl, snarling at himself. While his eyes would frequently look out the window where you sat, giving you a nice profile of his attractive face, you found yourself in a daze as you observed him. 
 More often than not, his cold orbs would meet yours, and it was as if the both of you were challenging the other to do something, anything. Your heart ached to be closer, knowing he was just across the room. But you forced yourself to remain seated while you studied him. While your stares were filled with curiosity and fascination, his were swirled with longing and guilt, his face forlorn as they traced yours. You couldn’t understand it, you’ve never seen him before, but there was just something that drew you to him and you couldn’t look away. 
 This was when your interest piqued, and you continued to watch him. Noticing that as soon as your last class ended, Taehyung would dash out of the room, and run for the hills. Once you've made it outside yourself, with your bike by your side, he was already in the forest. Sometimes he’d meet up with his brothers. But you always thought it was weird that they never took the pathway home. 
 You were itching to mention this to your family, but everyone in town was tightlipped when it came to the Kim brothers, so you knew your aunt and uncle were no exception. You mentioned this to Jisu a couple of times in secret, but she’d always dismissed you and said that they were freaks. But you suspected that she was upset that they didn’t give her any light of day, as she had her eyes on Seokjin.
But you weren’t going to let Taehyung’s rude and standoffish behavior deter you from wanting to know more. Needing to know the very actions of this mysterious boy, you found yourself trailing behind Taehyung as he made his way into the forest.  
 The air was chilly that particular afternoon, most of the leaves had completely fallen off the trees and a layer of frost covered each long blade of grass. Tugging your light winter jacket close into your body, you trod along the unfamiliar path to where campus ground ended and the forest began. Crispy leaves broke under the weight of your slip-on shoes as you kept a proper distance away from Taehyung. Close enough for you to see him, but far enough to not be heard. You’ve left your backpack in your designated locker—that you never use, for the time being, not wanting it to affect your stealth.  
 The naked trees made it difficult to hide. But you continued to creep behind, with fear crawling under your skin, and your breathing getting more irregular the longer you got further away from the school, and deeper into the forest. The slight chill in the air leaves the tips of your fingers numb, but you focused on the fur coat in front of you as it guided you into unknown territory.
 Ignoring the blisters and scratches you knew you sported, you’d say you were doing well at keeping up with his fast pace while getting a good look at where he was going. You ducked and pushed through branches and leaves until Taehyung made an unexpected stop.  
 You let out a small gasp and crouched behind a trunk of the nearest tree to you. Peering off to the side, you saw Taehyung had halted with his back facing you in a space that was void of any trees, only grass, and small rocks in the area. Where the sun shone through, a ray of light illuminating a patch of the ground that looked worn down, a place that looked like he frequented often. 
 Holding your breath to silence yourself, you watched as he carelessly tossed his backpack off of his shoulders and into a pile of leaves, covering it so that it was undetectable. Then he rose back to standing and carefully took off his fur coat. Your eyes widened as he’s left in a simple white tank. One that was tight and stuck to him like paint, leaving nothing to the imagination. Your eyes trailed along his impressively muscular arms, and well-developed delts, down to his forearms and hands, that even from where you hid, was so well built and strong you could see the veins that just underneath the surface of his skin. Jumping to his shoulders, your eyes trailed down all the curves of his figure, not one area ceased to be toned and firm. His figure deliciously narrowed down to his cinched waist where his black trousers hung low on his hips.   
 You unconsciously leaned forward as you watched his hands cross in front of him to grip the side of his shirt. Inch by inch he pulled the fabric off, exposing you to the golden skin underneath. It's slow and careful, almost ritual-like, and your eyes trained on the end of the hems that roll up his back. Revealing to you the marks that etched his skin. Designs decorating his otherwise glorious skin on his back with midnight black ink, a stark contrast to his golden tan skin.
 The sight’s mesmerizing, and you advanced closer and closer, tongue swiping over your bottom lip. Wanted to be nearer to him until you lost grip of your footing and a twig snapped. 
 The sound echoed into the midday and pierced through the otherwise quiet forest. Taehyung’s face slowly turned to the side, head leading with the tip of his nose upwards in the direction of the noise. And you slapped your hand over your mouth, whipping yourself behind the tree. Your back hit hard against the bark and you held in the sound that begged to escape. 
 Squeezing your eyes shut and your body still, you let the back of your head fall on the base of the tree.  Training your ears as hard as they could to any possible rustling that would indicate he saw you, staying as still as a statue just in case. 
 Once your heartbeat was no longer jumping out from your chest and finally calmed down to a tolerable level,  you crept behind the tree to see that Taehyung had vanished.
 Unseen and unheard.  
 You were shocked beyond belief. Crawling on all fours, you stayed low in the event your eyes were playing tricks on you, and that he was easily behind a tree. But as you continued to wiggle through, you were utterly surprised. 
 He was gone.
 Your head jerked to where he tossed his bag. And you ran over, dropping to your knees, all the scraps and bruises an afterthought. Digging and digging, with each grasp of leaves, twigs, and stones you knew it was hopeless. You're grasping at straws at this point because it was useless. His bag was gone too. 
 What the hell?  
Your feet dragged on their way back to campus, your brain foggy on your way home. You didn’t even ride your bike. The fall weather seemed more cold than usual, and you couldn't stop yourself from shivering on your way back. Opting to walk instead while your mind tried to make sense of what you just witnessed, or what you didn’t.
 Walking into your small house with your head in the clouds, you missed your aunt and uncle's greeting. You ran straight to your bedroom, carelessly tossing your backpack on the floor and running to your computer. 
 Your hands typed like crazy on your default search engine. Back tattoos, growling, sniffing, forehead to forehead greeting, fur coats. Just about anything that you remembered seeing. Each word resulted in a dead-end. No results, not a single one, the page redirecting to the search bar page. 
 But you were determined, time and time again you tried different search engines, and forums. Unaware of how long you feverishly searched, your eyes burn at the glow of your screen. Your room was now dark with the sun long disappeared and the moonlight lit up the otherwise dark room.  
 Defeated, you pushed yourself off your computer chair and plopped on your bed. Head swirling with different thoughts. How was it possible that nothing showed up? This occupied your mind to no end, that you had forgotten about that day’s homework, as your bag remained untouched for the rest of the weekend.
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During the weekend you made up your mind, you knew that if you wanted to get the answers you sought, you had to confront Taehyung. For the entirety of class the next day, your eyes drilled at the back of his head. But you noticed this time he didn’t return any of them. 
 So after class, you trailed behind Taehyung again. Except for this time you didn’t do it in secret. No, you were tired with this back and forth of whatever this was. 
 You stomped through the forest, knowing exactly where to find him. And there Taehyung stood, his back facing you, and his shirt crumpled in his hand. You approached him, your eyes narrowed in at the intricate designs on his back. This time, however, Taehyung didn’t run away, with every snap and crunch of the leaves and twigs below. He knew you were there.  
Just an arm's length away you could now see what you previously thought to be ink to be something else entirely. You had no clue what could have been expertly carved into his skin. Your hand slowly reached out, curiosity getting the best of you. The designs drew you in to touch.
 Your fingers extend, and they’re just a millimeter away when suddenly your back is struck into a trunk of a nearby tree, a choked sound leaving you at the harshness of Taehyung’s touch. His shirt dropped from his fingertips and gripped your shoulders tight—the force of it knocking the breath out from you.
 Hair falling into his eyes, Taehyung dangerously glared at you with a crooked brow, “Don’t you know it’s illegal to stalk people?”
 A breath left you at his deep baritone voice, the first time you heard it properly and your ears were pleasantly surprised at the gruffness that decorated it. “Don’t you know it’s rude to stare?” You retorted, keeping your gaze firm on his, waiting for his lame excuse. 
“I could say the same thing about you.”
Sighing at his remarks, your shoulders dropped. They were lamer than you thought. “What is this, Taehyung?” His mouth parted at the way his name so easily glided off your lips in such a sweet and melodic voice. “Pretending not to look at each other when it’s obvious. If you don’t like me you can just say so.”
 “That- that’s not what-you remind me of someone I used to know, but-”
Scoffing, you rolled your eyes and your gaze hardened. What was he getting at here? Was he comparing you to his previous partners? 
 “Taehyun-”
 “Please, I just, I need to be sure,”  His voice was so weak and desperate it's barely a croak. Leaning in close to you his fingers found solace at the base of your neck and he tipped your head off to the side. You relaxed in his touch, the plea in his voice so raw it tugged at your heart. Closing your eyes, his soft exhales wafted over your face. You pursed your lips, waiting for him to press those beautiful lips of his against yours. But instead, the warmth of his skin traveled away from your face and into the crook of your neck, once again. Reminiscent of the time all those weeks ago on the first day of classes.
 And you let him, letting his nose brush against your warm skin, a sigh escaping you. “Is this ok?” he asked.
 Your eyes fluttered at the feeling of his lips ghosting over your delicate skin as he whispered those words. Feeling heat rise to your cheeks at his closeness.
 “What are you doing?” Your voice left you in a breathy moan, failing to scold him for his actions.  Trailing his nose up into your neck, he nuzzled further into you as if he’s searching for something.
 Taehyung’s movement falters. “Ne-need to make sure.” 
 He mumbled against your skin. His lips brushing against you, he struggled to hold himself back, leaving feather-light kisses in his wake.
 You let out a sigh at the feeling of his soft lips, and he pulled you closer. Sucking on the skin harshly before traveling to your lips.
 When both of your mouths finally met in a hungry kiss. Taehyung couldn’t deny what he suspected all along and he let himself go. With every whine he chased your tongue that much more, wanting to draw out more pretty sounds from you. And every. single. one. dismantled all the restrictions he placed on himself to finally indulge in what he knew to be true.
 You’re spurred on by the little grunts Taehyung lets out, and you swallow each one while your own flow freely. An ache in your lower abdomen led you to run your hands up his back. His skin was impossibly hot under your touch. Running along the marks on his back, you felt that they weren’t made by mere tattoo needles. No, they were carved by something else thicker, harsher, leaving raised bumps under your fingertips. But you gave it no mind. You had scars of your own, and instead found purchase in his embrace. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you pulled him even closer. 
 Taehyung let out a small breath at the feeling of his bare chest against the familiar soft wool sweater you're wearing. His hands traveled to the edge of your sweater. Toying with the ends before letting his warm hands brush against your midriff and over your lower back.
 You let out a moan, his touch igniting sparks, you ran your hands through his dark brown locks and Taehyung tucked his face into the crook of your neck. Reveling at the melody you sing, and he only wanted you to sing more.
 His mouth returned to leave marks on your skin, that would surely bruise. The both of you find a rhythm in your hips, rocking against each other, Taehyung pushing your back further into the trunk of the tree behind you. His hands continued to rise higher and higher.
 You're so overwhelmed by him and lost in his touch that you didn’t realize he was getting too close, much too close to a place you've never let any man feel or see. But as his thumbs danced dangerously on the darkened skin, you broke out of your lust-filled trance. 
 “Stop.” You whispered, Taehyung’s lips faltering first against your skin before his hips registered your words. His eyes were wide as he looked at you, slowly peeling away from your warmth and slowing down the rutting against you.
 Removing yourself from Taehyung's hold, you looked at him with heavy eyelids. Reprimanding yourself for almost letting his godly physique and deep baritone voice make you lose sight of your boundaries. You blinked up at him, where he stared back at you, his eyes regretful. And he leaned in close to apologize, his words at the tip of his tongue before a snap of a branch makes both of you whip your head in the direction of the sound.
 “Well well well…. What do we have here? Giving us a little show…? Stop trying to get your dick wet in the middle of the woods, Taehyung. If we knew you were horny we could have pulled some strings for you. You didn’t have to fuck some town girl.”
 “Ya, what the hell, Tae. Are you trying to get us caught?”
 Two voices barreled straight into your ears. Moving slightly forward, Taehyung shifted to block them from your view. So you peeled yourself away from his proximity and brushed yourself off. 
 With a shameful look, you hesitantly gazed up and saw the voices belonging to Namjoon and Seokjin.  They messily readjusted their fur coats while they strode over, their aura intimidating as they gave Taehyung a quizzical look only for a brief moment before it flashed to you. Namjoon took a couple of steps into your personal space, and he loomed over you. A glint in his eye as he addressed his brother, but his focus was solely on you. 
 “Is this one of your new toys?” A smirk on his face as he gave your form a once over. You squeaked at his insinuation.
 Taehyung hid you behind his arm, his eyes deathly staring at his brother. “Fuck off, Namjoon.”
 Namjoon lets out an opportune laugh. “Come on Tae, you're not going to share this one too? You're going to keep this little cute one to yourself?” 
 “Namjoon,” Taehyung said in a commanding voice, his tone causing your skin to litter goose bumps while he challenged Namjoon to stand down. 
 “Joon.” Seokjin jumped in,  making a barrier between his brothers and bringing Namjoon away from your frightened body.
 “Shit, calm down. I’m just playing.” Namjoon cowered, giving up his antics when he realized how Taehyung wasn’t taking too well to his usual banter.  Both he and Seokin watched the way Taehyung regards you.
 Turning away from his brothers, Taehyung’s attention returned to you. Running his hand to the base of your neck to pull your forehead to lean against his. “Are you okay?”
 “Taehyung what-” Your eyes following the brothers and the scars that you noticed reach the base of their necks.
 “Shhh, don’t mind them, focus on me. Are you okay?” He soothed, slightly rubbing his forehead on yours.
 Your brain was running wild, how could you focus on him, with what you just saw and when Namjoon regarded you as some object.  Something he could just use...
 Taehyung could see how spaced out you were and brought you back to earth. “Breathe with me.” The both of you exchanged breaths, it was soothing but it was to no avail. 
 You could feel the way Namjoon's eyes trained on you, observing both Taehyung and your interaction. You glanced at him and saw him exchange a knowing look at Seokjin. Your eyes snapped back to Taehyung as they carefully tread on the both of you. Hearing their footsteps nearby, you pressed your head more into Taehyung, distracting yourself from them. However, Taehyung was the one to pull away and you reluctantly parted, to turn towards the older brothers.
 Namjoon looked regrettable. His voice, soft and tender. “You think it's her don’t you?”
 Taehyung gnawed on his lip, giving a slight nod. Seokjin let out a gasp, “Holy shit, she’s your mate, isn’t she?”
 “Who else would get our baby brother's paws in a twist?” Namjoon snorted.
 Your eyebrows furrowed and you let out a breath. “...What?”
 Taehyung shook his head. “No...” he began, looking at your eyes, the longing returned into his gaze. Traveling along your face, his eyes landed on your silver baby hairs that cutely framed your face, your mouth that grimaced at the taste of celery, and he thought of your voice he knew once upon a time, was now much more mature but just as sweet to his ears. “...it’s Y/N.”
 Silence.
 Not even crickets could be heard. Everyone was dumbfounded and for very different reasons. For you, it’s the fact that Taehyung knew you by name when you never shared it with him. You were determined yet also weary to completely reveal yourself to a boy who garnered your attention and thoughts at an alarming rate that he distracted you from your schoolwork.
As for the oldest Kim brothers? 
 “ —You’re kidding...” 
 “ —That can’t be...”
 Their voices deadpanned and overlapped. Letting the ring of their voices ring out into the cool air. Taehyung remained silent, giving a pensive look at nothing in particular.  Feeling antsy at the blaring silence, Namjoon broke the tension. 
 “You have to be wrong?”
 “Yea, think about how many people we know with that same name...” Seokjin added. 
 “None,” Taehyung shouted with a look their way. When he sensed you shift in front of him his eyes returned to you. Then dialing it into a whisper, the realization still didn’t sink in even though you stood right in front of him. “It’s her.”
 Frankly, Taehyung was still just as shocked as his brothers. When he saw you all those weeks ago for the first time. He thought he was hallucinating, but the more he looked at you, the more he observed you,  your face hasn’t changed since he last saw you. And every day since then only proved it. He couldn’t be wrong, he was sure of it. Everything pointed to you—
 “Except… her scent is off.” 
 “You mean non-existent?” Namjoon was exasperated. “How can it be .... she’s human?” Walking even closer, trying to catch a scent that isn't his or his brothers.
 “No, I thought so too, the first time, but something’s there, it's faint. Like it's on her clothes or something.” Taehyung muttered, closing the space between your bodies.
 “Is it scent blockers?” Seokjin quipped, his nose mirroring Namjoon’s actions. The two lost in conversation as they continued to sniff the air and spilled words you didn’t understand. 
 Your eyes fled back and forth as all three brothers moved into your personal space, studying at you as if you were an impossible equation to solve, then continued to speak amongst themselves. Your head was dizzy with their words, mate, human and whatever the fuck Seokjin just said. Your voice was small but cut sharp through their chatter.
 “What are you talking about?”
Taehyung’s head snapped in your direction pulling away from his brothers. Taehyung called out your name, seeing how you began to stumble away from them. “Tell me you feel it too, god, please tell me this is real. I thought I lost you.”
 The gut searing need to be closer to him-to know him was so potent it terrified you, but the glint that flashed in his eyes terrified you even more. You shuffled backwards, your feet carrying you until you came to a stop at the trunk of another tree. “Taehyung, you're scaring me.”
“Hey...” Namjoon’s voice grabbed your attention, his jaw clenching. “You know the incident that happened twenty years ago? On the lunar eclipse, the attack on Coventry Hill?”
 You shivered. “How could I forget, everyone liked to point out it was the day my parents abandoned me.” Your lips pressed together into a frown. “It didn’t help that we had the story drilled  in our heads by memory as kids.” 
 “If your memory is so good then, can you tell me the list of families that were massacred?” 
 That story always left a bitter taste in your mouth. But Namjoon had it wrong. Those people were nomads. “Massacred? that’s not what the history books say.”
 “Go ahead,” Namjoon urged on while Taehyung's face blanched and Seokjin's face fell.
 Your gears turned as you tried to remember the details of a Fatal night that was tied so closely to this town but was often hushed about. Digging through information in your brain you recall the list of families that were affected and left. “ Park.., Jung.., Jeon.., Min...and Kim.” 
 You gasped. “Exactly… You think it was a simple quarrel about land ownership?” Namjoon lifted a brow. “They fucking wanted us dead.” he spat. Jin snarled under his breath and shook his head at the memory.
 “Us…?”
 Jin smiles sadly, “You weren’t abandoned… your parent’s they were—”
 “They were killed.” Taehyung finished.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, how could you say that? You don’t know me?!” You accused, missing the way Taehyung’s face blanked and shuffling around the tree with every tentative step they take towards you. Your muscle tensed like a frightened deer that was bound to run at any second. “How the fuck would you even know that,” you continued, eyes hardening at his words. “I was a baby, and last I checked, so were you!”
“No, no, we weren't. You were five and I was nine.” You gave an incredulous look at Taehyung.
Namjoon stepped in, “We- we escaped, the majority of the pack did, but you—we thought we lost you when we didn’t hear anything from you. We figured you’d died along with your parents.”
 Taehyung lowered his head, his hands closing into a fist. He bit his lip and chanced a glance at you. “But when I saw you, on that first day, I just knew it had to be you.” 
 Your breath quickened under their gazes. “What are you trying to say?”
Taehyung takes a tentative step in your direction and your name so tender on his lip. “We aren’t like the people here... we’re wolves.”
Shaking now, the adrenaline hits you in full force. It couldn’t be, there was no way. Things like that only existed in movies. They couldn’t possibly be what they claimed, they were just silly stories. “DON’T come any closer!” you shouted, your voice was harsh and feral at Taehyung. How dare they play with you about something that hits too close to home, they had to be sick. Taehyung getting off on messing with you, he had to be the worst of them all. Your eyes filled with rage at his sight.
“You’re a monster.”
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⇴  02  | masterlist
a/n: ahh, thank you so much for reading ♡︎♡︎♡︎  i’d love to hear what you  thought of this chapter! love always,
— sana  ♡︎
114 notes · View notes
wishesunderthestars · 19 hours ago
Text
Poison Heart // Ch. 1
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Pairing: Prince!Taehyung x Queen!Reader
Summary: In the land of Aster, a powerful queendom, all female daughters of the queen are blessed by the Goddess and are immune to poison. Your mother, the Queen, is ready to step down and offer her place to you but according to tradition, the heir of Aster has to be married to ascend to the throne. You despise the fact that you have to be married to rule. As an act of rebellion, you announce that you will marry the prince of the one kingdom your mother had warned you not to.
Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort
Word Count: 6.3k+
Warnings: snakes, violence
Masterlist 
Prologue
Many thanks to my beta reader, @thewishofafallenangel!
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“It’s ridiculous,” you said, walking underneath an archway covered in vines. “She decided all on her own like it isn’t my life she’s talking about. And now everyone knows and they are expecting me to be engaged by summertime.”
Abigail tightened her cloak around her petite form. It was a chilly morning and while you were mostly indifferent to the cold bite of late winter, your cousin was much more affected. “She thinks that what she’s doing is for the best. There has been talk about it. You know they have been wondering why you have never accepted any courting offers.”
“Because I don’t want any courting offers.” A strong gust of wind blew your hair back. You had let it cascade freely around your shoulders devoid of any intricate braids and jewelled pins. “Why do I have to get married? This must be the most pointless tradition to have ever existed. I don’t need to get married to have heirs and I certainly don’t need a man to rule.”
Abigail had to rush her steps to keep up with you. It had been her idea to go on a walk in the gardens but it seemed like she might be regretting it soon. “You don’t but it is what it is. It is what everyone expects. But it doesn’t have to be a big deal. You said it yourself that being married doesn’t matter in the way you rule the land. Don’t give the marriage any more significance than you have to.”
“That’s easier said than done,” you said. “He will be sitting on the throne next to mine and everyone will expect to see us together at the balls and ceremonies. I can’t ignore the fact that he will be my husband.”
He would be always there, nobles would ask after him, the servants would gossip about how much or how little time you spent together, people would wonder how soon you would get pregnant with the next heir. Your mother had complicated pregnancies and, despite her many attempts, you had no siblings. You were the only daughter of the reigning queen, the only one who had The Gift.
The Gift manifested only in the daughters of the Queen. There hadn’t ever been a Queen sitting on Aster’s throne who wasn’t blessed with it. Legend said that the long line of Queens was descended from Amaranthe, one of the three daughters of the Sky. She fell in love with a mortal and had a daughter with him but when her daughter grew older and she married a noble from one of the first kingdoms, he poisoned her after she gave birth to a little girl. The Sky cried for three days and three nights at the sorrow and despair of his daughter. Amaranthe whisked her granddaughter away and whispered to her the Gift she was giving her, witnessed by her sisters and her father. No poison would make her sick, no poison would taint her beauty, no poison would ever dim the life in hers or her daughters’ eyes. 
And so it came true. The goddess granted her granddaughter a second gift, taking her to a land that was prosperous and its people were kind. The people loved her so much for she was kind and clever that they made her their queen. Her daughters, just like her, were immune to poison and the Gift lived in the next Queen’s daughters as well. It was passed down from generation to generation, down the centuries. Traditions developed around the immunity like breeding venomous snakes and each of the Queen's daughters choosing one to accompany them in life. 
Lilith was curled around your shoulders, her head resting on your collarbone. When you had turned eight and it was your time to choose your companion, your mother had taken you to the Royal Snake Den. A large building in the southern part of the castle, covered by a glass dome. It was fashioned like their natural environment: part forest, part desert, and part grassland. The snakes coexisted peacefully, in harmony with each other and their caretakers. They were tamed and provided with everything they would need. As far as you were aware, there hadn’t been any accidents of the royal snakes attacking anyone. 
You had been visiting the Royal Snake Den since you were a toddler and it was your favourite place on the castle grounds. No one other than the royal family and the caretakers visited it and you could sit in silence and spend some time on your own. Most of the snakes didn’t pay any attention to you but some of them would wrap themselves around your arms and they were content to remain there until you left. 
Choosing a snake was one of the most important parts of the life of the Queen’s daughters. Your chosen snake would accompany you until the end of your days, stay by your side and if your bond was strong, it would try to protect you if you ever were threatened. The royal snakes had a longer lifespan than the snakes living in the wild and the Queens’ companions would die shortly after their Queen did. Your lives were intertwined.
You had chosen Lilith before you turned eight. She would slither to you every time you went to the Den and drape herself over your arms, legs, or shoulders. You were in awe of how beautiful and elegant she was, her shiny scales were so dark they looked black and they shined purple when the light hit them right. You had no doubt she was the one you wanted to spend your life with. You had never regretted that decision.
“Mother has started asking me about courtships as well,” Abigail said.
“Have you not told her about your letter correspondence beloved?” you asked, knowing she hadn’t.
She rolled her eyes at your question. “She knows I’m exchanging letters with someone but she thinks they’re just a friend. If she learns of it, she will insist he rides here this instant and we start a proper courtship.”
“Is that not what you want? Didn’t you use to look forward to the day someone would start courting you?” 
Her cloak billowed around her as the wind blew with more force. You would have to go inside soon if it kept getting stronger. “I did and I still do but it isn’t time yet. Neither of us is ready for that and he has responsibilities in his country before he can come here to court me.”
Abigail had been sending letters to her mysterious lover for more than a year. She had met him in one of the countries she had visited with her parents on behalf of the crown. Her mother, as the Queen’s sister, attended the matters in other countries that the Queen herself couldn’t. As a result, Abigail had been travelling her whole life to distant lands and had even crossed the sea once while you had only crossed the borders two times in all of your 26 years. 
Your duty was here in Aster but it would have been beneficial to your reign if you had travelled more before taking the throne. There were things that lessons couldn’t teach you about the other nations.
"What are you going to do about courting then? Are you going to accept any proposals?"
"I don't want to," she said, her sharp chin raised in determination. "A courtship is a promise to open your heart to someone but my heart is already taken. It will feel like I'm betraying him if I am to accept." 
You passed by a marble statue of a woman, snakes draped over her shoulders and arms and wrapped around her torso. There was a challenge in her face so intense like she was ready to fight the world and win. The statue didn't depict a specific queen, it represented all of them. 
"A courtship is just a courtship," you said thinking of your own impending doom. "You'll get some gifts, go on a few walks, drink tea together and that's it. It will please your mother for now and later you can call off the courtship because you think you are incompatible and your mysterious man can come in and sweep you off your feet."
Abigail made a face that warped the perfect features that had many suitors running after her. "You might not think much of it because you don't care but courtship is the beginning of a bond. I can't do it with anyone else other than the one I love. It wouldn't feel right. My time and my hand belong only to him." 
You clicked your tongue fondly at your cousin. Abigail had only shared about her beloved with you and not much. He wasn't what her mother had been planning for her. According to her, he was a noble but not of the highest status. Hearing her talk about him for months and hiding the letters from her mother, you had realised that your cousin had fallen in love. 
After your walk with Abigail, you returned to your room and flopped down on the bed in a very unfitting way for a future queen. Venting your frustrations to your cousin hadn’t lessened them as you had hoped. You were still stewing like the beef in wine the cooks made. 
There wasn’t much time left until your birthday. Until you had to choose a prince to play pretend with. There was no way to get out of this. No pleas or complaints would work on your mother. When she decided on something, it was final. There would be no changing her mind. 
Although you despised the idea of getting married, of having to drag behind you a prince you could hardly tolerate, you wanted the throne. Your entire life, you had been preparing for the day you would rule. You had taken lessons on history, geography, strategy, politics, maths, and science, you had been taught by the greatest teachers of the continent, you had studied and worked hard so you could one day become the queen your people deserved. 
A prince had nothing to do with that. A prince would offer you nothing but problems. 
The days that followed, you ignored the inevitability of your upcoming birthday like you ignored your mother. You attended meetings, met up with your cousins, and mingled with the nobles. Your mother didn’t call you to her chambers again and during meals, you took your place at her side but didn’t speak to her unless she addressed you directly. She was getting tired of your behaviour, you could tell by the tightness of her lips and her narrowed eyes, but she didn’t confront you and you remained locked in a losing battle of wills. 
As your birthday crept closer, the talk about the grand ball your mother was organising and about the future prince consort of Aster grew louder. You heard servants whispering about their guesses on who you would choose in the corridors. The guards gossiped about it when they thought no one could hear them. Whoever was your future husband would be for sure a lucky man, they said. 
The royal professors didn’t ask you about the upcoming ball and the choice you would have to make. It was evident to anyone who knew you that the idea of getting married was as appealing to you as eating dirt. You were supposed to stop taking lessons when you became of age but you believed there was so much left to learn so you insisted on continuing the lessons you were the most interested in. They weren’t as frequent as when you were a kid, taking the shape of long conversations instead of the professor rambling. More like you had your own advisors. You enjoyed yourself immensely. Knowledge was a powerful weapon in your arsenal and it would be invaluable when you were crowned queen. 
The weeks before the ball you were whisked in a hurricane of preparations. Tailoring your dress that the seamstress swore would be beautiful enough to rival the shine of the stars, tasting dishes to decide on the menu, and approving each option for the decoration. Usually, you enjoyed the bustle before a celebration and you liked being involved in the planning. But this wasn’t any other celebration. This only reminded you that you were getting closer to a choice you didn’t want to make.
Invitations were sent out and letters arrived back stating which royals would make the journey to Aster for your birthday. Kings, Queens and their families from the most distant lands would attend the ball. You hadn’t read the invitations but Abigail told you that it was strongly implied that you would be choosing the future prince consort. No kingdom would miss the chance to offer their princes. 
A few days before your birthday, you were in the Den sitting underneath a large tree, snakes hanging from its branches like vines. You had gone out in the city, walked in the market, and spoken to your people. You had heard their joys and their complaints. On a piece of parchment, you wrote them down and made notes on solutions and ideas that would improve their daily lives. 
The queens of Aster were never distant names to their people. They communicated and worked with them for the advancement of the country. They didn’t dismiss them and their worries and that’s why the people trusted and loved them. That’s the queen you were going to be, you were going to give back to the country that raised you and loved you. 
As you were writing, not caring if the ink of your pen stained your dress, a servant stepped into the Den and bowed low.
“Your highness. Her Majesty, the Queen, is requesting your presence in her office.”
You forced yourself not to groan. There was only one thing this meeting could be about. 
“Thank you for letting me know. I will be there shortly,” you said, dismissing her. She seemed relieved to leave the Royal Den. “Let’s go deal with this, Lilith.”
Her tongue flickered out once before she curled around your arm. You dropped by your room to leave the parchment, pen, and ink and if it pleased you to keep your mother waiting, no one had to know. 
The guards in front of her office bowed to you before opening the intricately carved double doors. Your mother’s office was a relic of all the queens that had come before her. The towering bookshelves against the walls with books spanning centuries into the past. The blue flowers immortalised in glass on a low table. The silver knitting needles with rubies at the ends laying on the bookshelves. A statue of the first Queen. The large stained window depicting a purple flower blooming through a rock. The scratches on the desk.
Your mother was standing by one of the two windows framing the stained glass. 
“You asked for me,” you said. 
She nodded. “I did.” She glanced outside the window once more before going to her desk. “Are you going to stand there?”
“Aren’t you going to ask me to take a seat?”
She sighed, gesturing to the chairs in front of her desk. “Please take a seat.” You did, crossing your legs. “You’re angry.”
“I’m not angry,” you said courtly. 
Your mother raised an eyebrow at the obvious lie. “Angry or not, there are merely a few short days before your birthday, we should discuss your options. You have been informed of all the guests that have accepted our invitation and all the courting offers you have received. Do you have anyone specific in mind?”
“I don’t.” You had avoided thinking about the ball for as long as possible, you didn’t even want to glance at the names of the princes. 
Her expression didn’t change, she had expected this. “Then, both as the Queen and as your mother, I have some suggestions.”
You repressed another groan building up in your throat. You weren’t interested in her suggestions. At the moment, you weren’t interested in anything she had to say. If you were going to enter a courtship you didn’t want with someone you didn’t care about because of a stupid tradition she insisted on upholding then you wouldn’t let her control you any more than she already did.
You schooled your face into a slightly bored expression that was guaranteed to irritate her as she listed off the princes from the countries that Aster would benefit from forming alliances. 
Esna had the most fertile ground in the continent and produced a wide range of fruits and vegetables that didn’t grow anywhere else. They would be willing to ship supplies across the Great River if you married one of their two unmarried princes. Tivaria had a strong military and mined precious gems they styled into stunning jewellery that would make great wedding gifts and additions to the royal collection. The lands across the sea would offer new opportunities for trade of materials and hard-to-find items.
The young prince of Jeseon was your mother’s most favoured option. Jeseon and Aster had been strong allies in the past and the royal families remained friends. When Gwangsu had attacked Jeseon in the past aiming to take over the land, your grandmother had been quick to send reinforcements despite the fact that the two countries didn’t share a border. Jeseon had emerged victorious and they had never forgotten Aster’s support.
“The youngest prince of Gwangsu will also be attending the ball accompanied by the heir to Gwangsu's throne.” Your mother’s lips were set in a thin line showing the disdain. Gwangsu was considered a backward and brutal land of sand and rocks. The king, some whispered, was more of a tyrant than a leader. “I trust you not to make any decisions that will reflect badly on Aster’s crown. And speaking as a mother to her daughter, not as the Queen to her heir, if the prince is anything like his father, I don’t want you anywhere near him.”
You scoffed, this one you couldn’t suppress. “I can take care of myself.”
Your mother looked at you like she very much doubted that and the rage you had been harbouring for months knocked against your ribs. You were a few steps away from becoming Queen and your mother didn’t trust you around a prince. Ridiculous. 
You rushed to excuse yourself before this could evolve into another argument. You had had enough of those. 
The day of your birthday arrived wrapped in silks and with the sound of silver bells. Aster was celebrating. Your lady-in-waiting woke you up cheerfully, singing about the joyous day. She was out of tune at best but it made you laugh while she helped you into your morning dress. It was the colour of the blush she applied on your cheeks with a low neckline and lace sleeves. She brushed and braided your hair before situating on your head the golden tiara that marked you as the heir of Aster. 
The dining room was alive as everyone wished you a happy birthday. Both of your mother’s siblings were here along with all of your cousins. The breakfast was a family affair. Abigail sat next to you, doing her best to take your mind off. It was a fruitless endeavour when everyone else was talking about the ball.
You had come to terms with it in a way. You had thought about it and although you hated the idea as much as you did that day on your mother’s balcony, you had realised that you couldn’t get out of this. If your mother wanted you to get married to a prince before letting you take the throne, you would do it. But you would do it on your terms. 
The foreign royal families had arrived throughout the past few days. The previous evening, you had taken your tea in the western pavilion with some of your guests as was proper. Your mother had suggested a walk with the second-youngest prince of Esna and, gritting your teeth so hard they could break, you accepted. You played the role. You would become Queen soon, you could play a role. The prince was polite if a little arrogant under the surface. He talked about hunting and whatever else princes enjoyed and you hid a yawn behind your hand. 
You couldn’t listen to that for the rest of your life. You would much rather choke on your tea. 
Before the ball, before your ladies came to your room to dress you and do your hair and makeup, you slipped away to the Temple. It was built on the steep side of the hill the castle was on and you had to climb down tens of wide stairs built into the rock to get there. Upon recognizing you, the priestesses were quick to whisk you away to the prayer room. 
The sound of falling water calmed you more than any words could. The waterfall in the centre of the room was illuminated by a blue light coming from inside the rock. No one had found the source, the light was just there. The water cascaded around three statues like a veil. The three Goddesses gazed at you composed and regal. Amaranthe, the one who blessed you with your gift, stood in the middle with her hands extended in front of her like she was holding an invisible flame. 
You knelt by the edge of the pool and bowed your head to them. Your heartbeat was loud in your ears and your hands gripped the beautiful fabric of your dress so hard your long nails could have ripped it apart.
You whispered a prayer to them, asking for wisdom and strength, and got up. You had dreaded this night for a long time. It was about time you took your fate into your hands. Your mother had made enough decisions for you. 
The seamstress had outdone herself with your dress. The deep purple velvet was embroidered with golden thread and precious gems lined the plunging off-shoulder neckline. The dress was cinched at your waist by a golden belt carved into Aster flowers, the symbol of your country, with gems placed at the centre of each flower. 
Asters grew all over the country, the greatest number of them blooming around Enya, the capital. They cracked rocks to grow and clusters of them could often be found emerging from large boulders. They symbolised strength and resilience and your nation had been named after them in hopes of fostering those values. 
Your hair was pinned at the back of your head with jewelled pins, your morning makeup washed away and replaced with deeper colours for the night. Powder, dark lips, a touch of blush high on your cheeks, and black lining your eyes. Lilith slithered up your arm and settled at her place around your shoulders. When you looked up at the mirror you could see the queen you would be one day, not the girl who was ruled by her mother's will and nonsensical traditions. 
You were deliberately late enough for a grand entrance. The lively music coming from the ballroom trailed off and you heard your title and name being called. Chin high and back straight, you descended the grand staircase. All eyes were on you and you were delighted at the attention. This was your night. 
The ballroom was decorated in gold and purple like your gown. Long tables lined the walls covered with white tablecloths and decorative long strips of purple in the middle. The light from the chandeliers bounced off the gold on the walls. The ceiling was painted like the night sky in black and deep blue, littered with stars and a waning moon. If one were to quickly glance at it, they would think there was no roof but only the expanse of sky above. 
A path to the table at the other end of the room was cleared for you. Your mother raised from her place in the centre of the table underneath the sculpture on the wall of two snakes intertwined and an Aster flower blooming between them. You greeted her with a kiss on the cheek as was suitable and took your place on her right. 
"Let the music begin again," your mother called. "Let us rejoice and celebrate the princess' life!" 
The guests cheered and the musicians resumed the joyous melody. You surveyed the room. More royals had arrived since yesterday and nobles from your court were ogling at them. High-born ladies and lords alike eyed the foreign princesses and princes. They were more excited for the night than you were. 
Your mother placed the best cut of meat on your plate and gave you a smile that could have been reassuring but to you, it only looked condescending. You ate in silence while she talked to her advisors and her brother and sister that were sitting at the table with you. They knew you well enough to sense you weren't in the mood for talking so they didn't bother you. You used dinnertime to observe your guests.
You had met most of the Kings and Queens in the past as well as a few princes and princesses. Some you were indifferent towards, some you tolerated and there were a few you genuinely enjoyed the company of. And there were also the ones you'd never seen before but you could tell their titles by the way they held themselves. Your eyes jumped from one person to the next, calculating. Until they stopped at a faraway table. 
A boy was sitting there, his eyes on his plate as he cut the meat with measured movements. His black curls were brushing his shoulders free from any binds. They looked silky and smooth like the furs you liked to run your fingers through in winter. Unlike the other people at the table, he seemed almost meek and he didn't open his mouth to speak. By his beautiful features and the absence of a king close to him, you guessed he was the prince from Gwangsu. The king hadn't graced you with his presence sending three of his sons, including his heir, in his stead. 
Abigail must have followed your gaze and she was watching them too. 
"What are you looking at so intensely?" your mother asked. 
You snapped your gaze away from the prince as if you had been caught doing something forbidden. "Nothing. I was thinking." 
Your mother hummed, bringing the gold goblet filled with red wine to her lips. "I trust that you have a few favoured options in mind. If you haven't chosen already."
You took a bite of your food, not gracing her with an answer. You had nothing to tell her. 
Dinner was soon over and the dancing and mingling began. Lilith didn’t enjoy dancing—too much turning and moving for her—so you left her at the table. Also, having a poison snake around you didn’t attract many dancing partners, which usually you would use to your advantage. And how did they expect someone to become your prince consort if they were afraid of your life companion?
You found Abigail and had a short conversation with her before she was swept away by a noble for a dance. You hadn't been asked to dance yet, the princes were probably intimidated and were waiting for someone else to go first. 
"Your Highness, may I have this dance?" 
You turned around and came face to face with the king of Jeseon. His blond hair was swept off his forehead and his dark eyes twinkled with mirth.
A grin took over your face. "But of course, Your Majesty, how could I refuse?" 
You passed your drink to a servant and took the King's extended hand. You bowed to each other and he placed a hand on your waist as a new song started. 
"They are looking at us," you whispered as the dance brought you close to his ear. 
Others were dancing, but there was a greater space around the two of you than the other couples. The ones dancing would sneak glances at you over their shoulders and the rest of the guests openly watched you. 
"They were probably expecting you to give the first dance to one of the numerous princes hoping to court you," Namjoon said as your palms connected and you moved in a circle. "You have to excuse me but I wanted to take the chance before you are flooded with dance requests." 
"I would have found some time for you," you said. 
You had known Namjoon since you were children, the strong ties between your countries meant that your families often visited each other and exchanged letters. Namjoon was only a couple of years older than you and other than Abigail he used to be the only person you felt close to. You shared the future of a throne and through letters, as you got older you would discuss your struggles and reassure each other. 
But the throne had called for Namjoon much earlier than any of you could have anticipated. His father got sick before Namjoon came of age and he died only a few months after. He had written to you, you remember reading the letter by the fireplace in your room shivering despite the heat. In his kingdom, succession didn't work like it did in yours. Only when the king died would the new king be crowned while in Aster it was tradition for the Queen mother to bless her heir and place the crown on her head. Namjoon had thought he had many years before being crowned. 
There was a spark of jealousy that he had ascended before you without a need to get married or follow any other stupid traditions but it was smothered quickly. He hadn't wanted his coronation to happen like that. You knew he would have rather had his father by his side than be king. 
"Have you decided what you're going to do?" he asked, twirling you around. 
Along with your mother's invitation, you had sent a sealed letter to him. 
"You know that my mother has her eye on Jungkook, right?" you asked to avoid answering his question. 
Namjoon chuckled. "I can't think of anything worse." 
"Exactly," you said, gliding around him. You made a face briefly so no one else would catch it. "It would be like marrying my annoying little brother." 
You both looked at Jungkook who was laughing boisterously at something Seokjin, Namjoon's advisor, had said. His large eyes and bunny teeth made him look much younger than he was. He was still a kid in your eyes even though he had grown tall and his muscles bulged through his shirt. 
 "Why did you send a courting offer in the first place?” you asked. “I hadn’t expected that."
"My advisors were insisting. They wouldn't give in until I sent one. You would never accept so I didn't worry," Namjoon said. “He has plenty of time until marriage. He's still too young in many ways. He doesn't have to rush, he can take his time and find someone his heart truly desires. He doesn't have our responsibilities." 
"I don't see you getting married either," you said. 
His smile tightened. "They are waiting for me to get married too. I have been stalling and they are beginning to notice. I need an heir. My council has been presenting me with options of princesses and girls of noble birth. You are not the only one in a difficult position." 
"At least you don't have to choose tonight," you countered. 
He glanced at his brother and his advisor. "It might not be tonight but it will be soon. At least your heart is free." 
You would have asked what he meant but the song was finished. You bowed to each other again and the second–youngest prince of Esna got brave and walked over to ask you for a dance. Later, you saw Namjoon dancing with a princess from the northern counties across the sea. He was smiling but you wondered if he was overthinking his predicament and what each dance could mean now.
Namjoon didn’t have an aversion to marriage like you did. On a late summer night in your mother’s private garden during one of his visits, he had confessed to you that the throne was lonely and he wished he could share it with someone. And yet he didn’t sound pleased about his future marriage now. You had sensed that he harboured affections for someone and now you understood that whoever it was, he couldn’t have them. His heart wasn’t free.
Your problems couldn’t be more different. 
You were taking a break from dancing, sipping on more red wine. It was like you could feel time moving, hear the grains of sand falling in an hourglass. 
“Your highness,” Sanghoon, the crown prince of Gwangsu said, bowing slightly in respect. He addressed you with your full title and full name. It was the common way of greeting between royals of the same status from different countries. 
You tilted your head in acknowledgment. You had never met him before but you knew the names of all the members of the royal families. You had also been given descriptions of the guests you were unfamiliar with so you could recognize them at the ball. 
“It is a great pleasure to make your acquaintance. My father, the King of Gwangsu, is sending his regards and his regrets at not being able to be in attendance tonight during to matters he had to take care of in our country.”
“No offence has been taken at his absence.” 
Your eyes strayed to the boy who you guessed was the youngest prince. Taehyung was his name if your memory served you well. He was smiling, it wasn’t as big as his brother’s but it was far more genuine. You were intrigued by him, his beauty, and how soft he looked. Nothing like his brother. 
“This is my youngest brother, Taehyung,” Sanghoon said and Taehyung bowed to you, not just his head like his brother but bending his whole upper body forward. 
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Your Highness.” His deep voice startled you and you wished to hear more of it. 
“Likewise.”
Sanghoon puffed his chest—any more and he would combust—and sent a stern look at his brother. Taehyung quickly looked away and you found yourself irritated at his brother for making him fumble. 
“Would you do me the honour of dancing with me?” he asked almost shyly, his curls framing his face like the night sky hugged the moon. 
Your mother had warned you to stay away from the prince of Gwangsu. If there was one prince she wanted no ties with, it was him. 
"Of course," you said, offering your hand. 
The prince smiled wide, reminding you of a puppy. You led him to the dance floor and adjusted your steps to the song that was playing. 
He was a good dancer, a little self-conscious of his steps but one of the best you had danced with. His touch was feather-light on your waist. He didn't brag about what his kingdom could offer or shower you in honey-sticky compliments. 
Your kingdoms had been enemies not a long time ago yet you didn't think of that while you danced. You floated around the dancefloor in silence and it was enough. Relaxing. 
When the song ended, you bowed to each other and Taehyung thanked you for the dance. You watched him as he got lost in the crowd and you moved towards where Abigail was standing. 
A hand gripped your forearm and you were about to say some strong words to whoever it was when you turned and saw your mother. 
She was glaring at you with poorly concealed anger. You could peel back her composure like the skin of an onion. "What were you doing with him?" 
"Dancing," you said, feigning ignorance. 
"What did I tell you about Gwangsu? You don't want to get involved with them. They are bad news. Terrible news." 
You shook your arm free from her grip. She didn't stop you, she didn't want to make a scene. "You don't want me to get involved with them. There's a difference." 
"This might not have been what you wanted but it's unbecoming of you to try to spite me like this," she said. "You gain nothing from this. Do you not remember what Gwangsu did? What I told you about the king? They aren't like us. They don't share our values and our beliefs." 
"You're talking about a war whose initiator has long died. I was dancing with a prince, not the king and not a dead man," you countered. 
Your mother's jaw clenched. If you were in the privacy of your chambers, she would have raised her voice but here surrounded by people she wouldn't dare. "You will not dance with him again. We're looking for an ally, not an enemy." 
"I'm not looking for anything," you said through your teeth. "This is all you." 
Before she could reply, you stormed away. Lilith pressed her head against your neck as if trying to comfort you.
Your mother hadn't listened to you when you'd told her you didn't want to get married, she hadn't even tried to challenge the tradition that had no reason to exist. How could she expect you to listen to her when she had been the one to force you into this? 
She wanted you to get married, then so be it. 
Determined, you walked to Taehyung who was standing with his brothers, looking small between them. A small smile appeared on his face when he spotted you and a small flicker of warmth licked your insides. 
"I have decided to accept the Prince of Gwangsu Taehyung's courting offer," you said loudly so everyone around you could hear. 
Please comment and reblog it motivates me to keep writing
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btsqualityy · 23 hours ago
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Yoongi’s social media
Ingore dates and times.
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7deadlysinsfics · a day ago
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— here with you | jjk
jungkook is there for you during your heartbreak as a result of a decision you made
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⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader
⟶ rating: pg
⟶ genre + warnings: drabble | angst, fluff, established relationship, feelings of abandonment, oc’s father sucks, jungkook is a dream 😭, crying, childhood feelings mentioned, a text message
⟶ word count: 1.1k | unedited, sorry
⟶ author’s note: i’ve been going through things, and i needed a way to deal with it, so i grabbed my phone and wrote this in my notes. the text message is real btw.
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“Hey,” Jungkook lies in bed behind you and pulls you flush against him. He’s very sweet with his kisses on your shoulder. “I’m so sorry you’re sad, baby. I wish I could take it all away.”
You slowly turn in his arms to look at him. Seeing the worry and affection he has for you in his eyes makes your bottom lip tremble, and he immediately coos with an apology.
“I didn’t mean to make you sadder. You’re already sad enough,” Jungkook caresses your cheek.
“I—It’s not that,” you sniffle. “It’s just that I feel so safe with you. It doesn’t matter what I’m going through; I know you’ll be there.”
“I will. Always,” Jungkook promises.
You let out a long sigh, and Jungkook places a finger under your chin. Your eyes glance at him again as a tear runs sideways across your cheek and over the bridge of your nose. You know you can tell him anything too.
“There are many things that I can brush up under the rug and never think about them again. I’ll go on about my day as if nothing. But when it comes to my father, he just has a way of ruining my day, and I—” you don’t mean to let out a sob, but one escapes anyway.
It takes everything in Jungkook not to pull you into a hug and tell you not to think of that man ever again. It’s his natural reaction to seeing you hurting. Instead, he gives you time to get your thoughts together because he knows how hard it is for you sometimes to voice your feelings. He wants to listen to you and help you figure things out.
“I can’t believe he’s angry because I didn’t answer one text he sent while I was sleeping. The way he can just switch on me like that,” you shake your head, thinking back to the message you woke up to this morning.
[Dad] Wow. I can't believe you don't even answer back, but you know what? That's fine. This will be the last time I'll text you.
Jungkook’s warm hand is splayed on your back underneath your shirt, rubbing small circles as he continues to listen to you. You take in a big breath and sigh before continuing.
“I’ve been angry with him for so long, and still, I pushed it aside because I wanted him in my life somehow. He left me, Jungkook. Not the other way around. I was six, and he just moved away to another state forgetting about me and my little brother. He never tried to see us again but somehow expected me, the child, to keep in contact with him. And then he dares to play the victim when I treat him the same way he’s treated me my whole life.
I’m tired. All he’s brought me is uncertainty and stress. I feel abandoned all over again when he behaves that way. I don’t want to feel like that anymore. I—” you sob into Jungkook's chest, and he hugs you tightly. You can’t see him, but he’s crying too. He cries for the little girl inside you that only wants to be respected and genuinely loved by her dad. He cries for the woman who still wants those things but has figured out that it will never change and finally comes to terms with it.
“Do you know what hurts me the most?” You ask, voice husky from crying.
“Hmm?” Jungkook hums, lips brushing a delicate kiss onto your forehead.
“That he’s never made any moves to try and meet his only grandchild,” you say. Your voice is more stable. You don’t think you have any tears left in you. “And to be honest, I think I prefer it because I don’t want her to get used to someone who would abandon her. I don’t want that for her. Thanks to you, she’ll never know what that feels like because you’re such a good dad to her, baby.”
You notice the tears when you look up at Jungkook, but he’s also smiling. His cute nose is red and sniffling, and it makes you smile. You reach to wipe his tears away, and then you kiss him on his lips, nose, and forehead. You feel such adoration for this man—this man who has given you everything that was once missing from your life. With him, everything is better. With Jungkook, there is patience, safety, understanding, and above all, there is genuine love.
“You’re my heart and soul,” he says. It still makes you want to melt into a puddle when he tells you things like that. At the beginning of your relationship, years ago, it took you a while to accept that the things he said to you were genuine—that he actually meant them. For so many years, loving words from other people weren’t genuine and came with expectations. Jungkook never expected anything from you, only for you to give him a chance to show you how much he loved you.
“You’re mine too,” you say. You both stay like that, lying on your sides, just staring at each other in comfortable silence for a little while.
You both listen to your daughter’s laughter coming from her room across the hall. She’s on the phone with her friend while playing Minecraft on the computer. You know you won’t be able to protect her from every heartbreak, but you feel grateful that at least her childhood is a happy one full of people who love her dearly and wouldn’t be able to live without her. You couldn’t have asked for better people in her life, and you hope and pray it’ll always be that way for her. It’s what all parents want for their children: happiness, safety, certainty, and love.
“I know it hurt you a great deal to cut your father off for good from your life today, but I want you to know that when you remember what happened today and it hurts again, I want you to find me and hug me. I’ll know, and I’ll hug you back just as tightly. I love you so much, my love.”
“I love you too, Jungkook.” He knows you’re exhausted from all the emotions you let out today, but he’s so proud of you. “So much,” you sigh into his neck.
Jungkook softly chuckles when he feels your breath even out, letting him know you’ve fallen asleep. He wipes another tear from the corner of your eye and then places a kiss on your cheek. It rouses you a little, and you instantly wrap an arm around his waist as you feel for his warm chest to lay your head on. He can’t help the tightness in his chest from all the love and affection you bring out from him. He loves you something fierce.
He says, “I promise to protect you and our little girl,” as he watches you sleep. “Sleep, baby. I’ll always be here with you. I’m never going anywhere.”
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copyright © 7deadlysinsfics | no copying, reposting, translating, or modifying my works
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strawbearytae · a day ago
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18. next year📎
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a/n: thanks for reading! please remember to hit that rblg button as a pat on the head for me for a good job (•ᴗ•◍)!
synopsis: flirting with your crush of 3 years wasn’t something you thought of when first getting twitter, a nasty breakup wasn’t what you expected either… but why is it that after 3 years and loads of droning on self-improvement and trying to become “that” girl, your gym buddy reminds you of the one person you wanted to forget?
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sxtaep · 2 days ago
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OFF THE TABLE - KTH | seven (m)
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↬ synopsis: a horrific case from 1993 has resurfaced 29 years later, leaving kim taehyung & mei yuna to argue in favour of the public to keep the defendant in jail. the only problem? the pair despise each other.
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pairing — taehyung x female oc
genre — fluff, angst
word count — 4.3k
chapter warnings/tags — very domestic, kissing (just a little bit), past exes, oc’s mom lowkey fancies taehyung, sexual innuendos, some hostility, childhood trauma, mentions of abuse, mentions of mistreatment, overall a little sad for taehyung :(
a/n: this is a taehyung love club !
series masterlist | next
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A few hours later, Yuna woke up in a cold sweat. She looked to her side for her phone, checking the time just to see it was 4am. She had a huge headache and she felt extremely hot. Taehyung was still sound asleep and she did her best to get out of bed without waking him. Thankfully, she succeeded but almost stumbled as she stood on her feet. She threw on her robe and quietly made her way downstairs for some water.
Taehyung would roll to his other side, hugging the duvet closer to himself, still asleep, but something would tick him awake. He then almost immediately opened his eyes and looked around without moving his body.
The shuffling outside of the room was enough to let him know that she was probably going down because she was hungry. He huffed quietly and just laid there, waiting for her to come back.
Yuna stepped into the kitchen, heading straight to her little medicine cupboard above her toaster, opening it and stretching her arm up to grab the box, however she struggled. The box was too far deep in the cupboard, so she had to try and use her fingertips to inch the box closer to her.
Losing control, the plastic box fell on the counter, causing a pretty loud thump, making her jump.
Hearing this, Taehyung would jump out of bed and run downstairs in a panic. As he stepped in the kitchen and saw her all good and well and let out a sigh of relief.
"Can't sleep?"
She looked back at him over her shoulder, her hands scattering to collect the sprawled out boxes of pills.
"Something like that," she replies, shrugging it off.
Taehyung frowned and stepped closer to her, gently placing the back of his hand against her forehead.
"Baby, you're warm."
"Yup, I feel it too, I feel like I'm in an oven," she grumbles, popping the tablets into her mouth and gulping down some water. "Maybe I got food poisoning, I don't know.."
Letting out a heavy sigh, he pulled her into a hug, giving her a kiss on top of her head. "If you don't feel better in the morning, I'll take you to the doctors.
Yuna leans her head against his chest and nodding. "Gosh, this just had to happen at the worst time. We could be getting the date of the hearing anytime now. Imagine it's this week? Fuck, I'm gonna have to call in sick in a few hours."
"Let's just hope you get better. If you don't, I'm pretty sure Giana and I will make it work for all of us." He pet her hair, kissing her head again. "Wanna try and fall asleep again? Maybe it will help?"
"Yeah.. I don't think I'll be able to sleep in my room, it's too hot in there. I'll stick to the living room couch," she tells him with a small smile, patting his shoulder and walking past him with a glass of water in hand, taking it to the living room.
Upstairs was always warmer than downstairs, and seeing as she was already burning, with barely anything on her body, the best choice would be to stay downstairs.
"You can go back upstairs.."
Taehyung frowned again, following behind her into the living room, "I wanna stay with you, to make sure everything is alright."
His concern for her made her feel all warm inside. She rested her head on his shoulder, looking straight ahead. "I'm not a child you know. I've been sick before. It's nothing I can't handle," she boasts, trying to lighten the mood. "But.. I appreciate it," she finally says with a sigh.
He smiled softly, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, pulling her to his side. "Is it just a fever? Or do you feel like it's something else?"
"I'm not sure.. it might just be a fever since I feel like I'm burning up. I should be fine in a few days though," she tells him reassuringly, smiling lazily and closing her eyes for a few seconds to see if she could fall asleep.
Taehyung nodded and he kissed her head yet again. He noticed she was trying to sleep again, so he remained silent.
Yuna fell asleep within a few minutes with Taehyung by her side, indicated by her light snores. Normally when she got sick like this, she'd be a mess; fidgeting and moving about, struggling to sleep. It seemed that just his presence itself could make her feel a hell of a lot better.
Taehyung just sat there, watching her sleep peacefully. After a couple minutes, he fixed her a bit, moving to lay her down properly on the sofa, whilst he got up to sit on the carpet.
He couldn't take his eyes off her, her symptoms were physically visible and he didn't want her getting more ill.
When morning came, Yuna was still lying on the sofa. Assuming he was next to her, she had a look around, not seeing him anywhere until she looked down to see him fast asleep on the floor. She carefully knelt down onto the floor, brushing her hands through his hair to wake him up. "Tae.. you're gonna be late for work," she whispers in his ear.
Taehyung rubbed the tiredness off his eyes, slowly waking up after some struggle. He turned his gaze on her with a soft smile. "Feeling better yet?" He stretched, his arms above his head, hearing his bones crack in the process. His back was pain due to the uncomfortable position he fell asleep in.
"Yeah, somewhat better,"  she places her hand under his back, pushing him to sit up. "You're so silly, you should've just slept with me on the sofa. There was more than enough space," she scolds him, rubbing his back.
Taehyung stood up to fix his clothes and look at the clock on the wall. "Shit, it is pretty late. I don't even have time to go home and change.." Letting out a heavy sigh, he fixed his eyes on her again, his smile making a comeback. "I'll let sir know that you're sick, so don't worry about that."
Yuna nodded and flashed him a small smile, standing up along with him and placing a small kiss on his cheek. "Are you going home after work or will you be coming back here?"
"I'll probably go home to grab some clothes, but if you don't mind, I want to stay here and take care of you." He wrapped his arms around her to pull her into a hug, as he rest his chin on the top of her head.
"Yeah, no that's perfectly fine.." His words definitely sparked something inside of her, making her feel all 'lovey dovey' inside and have her heart racing. She smiled to herself and looked up at him with so much adoration, she seriously looked like she was in love.
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Taehyung would come back to her house after several hours, wearing a simple pair of black dress pants and a grey sweater, his gym bag full of clothes over his shoulder. He locked his car, putting the keys into the bag and gently knocked on the door, fixing the bag on his shoulders. His hair was damp as he just got out of the shower.
Yuna opened the door for him with a smile. Yikes, it felt like she was waiting for her husband to come home.
"I could open the door to this everyday," she laughs softly, eyeing his wet hair and his choice of attire. She moves aside to let him in and close the door behind him. "How was work? I hope it wasn't too hectic."
As soon as he entered, he dropped his bag to the floor and pulled her into a very long kiss, one hand tenderly cupping her cheek as he made her stumble back into the house. Oh, he was latched onto her. The kiss was so long, he was close to just eating her face off, but he couldn't let that happen at the front door, so he finally pulled away, out of breath and smiling down at her.
"It wasn't too bad, but I missed you so much."
How could he respond so casually like he didn't just have his tongue down her throat. Yuna was still recovering, clearing the throat, "I missed you too. I didn't realise how boring it would be being alone."
Yuna left his side and went and sit on the sofa, looking at him expectantly for a few seconds hoping he'd follow, before her phone started ringing on the table. Her screen lit up, seeing it was her mother that called.
"Hey mom," she says with a sigh, leaning against the sofa. It was typical of her mother to be such a chatterbox.
"I've got a pretty bad fever but I can handle it, you really don't need to come over—" her mother's words over the phone cut her off, insisting she come and take care of her daughter, which Yuna was not allowed to refuse.
"I hope that wasn't an ex of yours that was calling you," he heard her talking to someone, but didn't hear good enough to know who it was.
"It was actually my mother. She was just checking up on me, then I told her I was sick and now she's gonna be here in the next 5 minutes." Talk about her mother only had her realising that this would be the first time Taehyung would be meeting her, and they weren't even in a relationship.
His eyes shot wide open, as he took his time to understand her words.
"I'm aware this will be your first time meeting my mother, but don't worry, she's really easy going and fun."
When it finally hit him, he ran to the door and grabbed his bag, then quickly ran upstairs. "And I look like a complete mess!"
Yuna didn’t have the physical abilities to chase after him, so she let him do what he must for a couple minutes before a knock was heard at the front door,!indicating her mother had arrived. Taehyung was rushing to try and look presentable but honestly, it didn't matter. He could waltz around naked and he'd still look good.
She huffed and headed for the door, opening the door to be engulfed by her mother's open arms.
"Yuna! Are you doing okay?" the older woman frets, squeezing Yuna in her arms and pulling away, her hands reaching up to touch her face.
Taehyung could hear the older woman as he changed into a polyester white button up shirt, leaving the first few buttons undone, exposing his tatted chest a little. He huffed and went back downstairs, forgeting to dry his hair.
Whilst walking down the stairs, he fixed his rings, making sure they wouldn’t slip off his finger, as he called out to her, "Yuna, have you seen my—?" He stops abruptly, finally being in the presence of her mother.
Yuna met eyes with him over her shoulder, not having enough time to appreciate his outfit. "Seen your..?" she trails off, waiting for him to finish his sentence but he didn't seem to budge.
"Honey.. what is Mr Kim doing in your house?" she asks, staring at the man on her staircase in awe.
Mrs Mei knew him?
Of course she did, Taehyung was all Yuna would complain and bitch about everyday after work, and no matter how much hate she expressed about the man, her mother would always find ways to make him seem better than he actually was. The term 'handsome' would be thrown about quiet a lot by the older woman.
"Ah, hello there."
Yuna was just waiting for her mother to freak out, and it happened a few seconds after Taehyung came down. Her mother let go of Yuna and threw her arms around him, gushing over the fact her 'handsome' work colleague was in her house. "Oh, Mr Kim! How are you doing? You shouldn't be standing, come come, sit," her mother ushers him towards the sofa, leaving Yuna dumbfounded at the door.
Taehyung didn't know how to feel. Looking over his shoulder at his girlfriend, he forced a tight smile, before turning around to face her mother, sitting down on the sofa beside her.
"I'm fine, thank you, but please, call me Taehyung. I'm also sorry for being here whilst you're visiting your daughter, but she's sick and I wanted to take care of her. Apologies for any intrusion."
The shock on her mother's face was understandable. "Yuna! You never told me Taehyung was your boyfriend!" she gushes, gesturing for her daughter to come and sit behind her, which she hesitantly obliged to, taking a seat next to her mother. "Um, mom.. he's not my boyfriend yet.." she whispers to her, hoping she'd understand and keep her mouth shut.
Taehyung's ears would perk up at her words and immediately frown, raising a brow as he leaned back catch a glimpse of the girl from behind of her mother.
"Oh, I'm not?"
She smiles nervously at Taehyung, her eyes gesturing towards her mother and bringing a finger up to her lips for him to stay quiet. Her mother didn't notice since her full attention was on her coworkers. She didn't want to tell her mother she and Taehyung were in a relationship just yet, for the sake of her own being. Her mother would probably go into cardiac arrest if she got told now so suddenly.
He immediately understood, yet him being himself, he showed a huge smirk and rested his back on the sofa, as his hands landed on his thighs. "That's not what you were saying last night.."
Her mother snapped her head towards Yuna, who couldn't do anything but narrow her eyes at the man.
"Excuse me?"
Taehyung would simply shrug as he got up and fixed his shirt, still sporting that god-forsaken smirk of his, "I didn't know you call someone you have sex with a ‘friend’, but alright." He then acted all innocent, as he turned his gaze to her mother with a smile. "I'll make us some tea, how about that?"
Without waiting for an answer, he disappeared, walking to the kitchen.
Her mother turned around to look at Yuna in complete shock. The older woman was going to question it, but Yuna stopped her, getting up from the sofa and and following him into the kitchen.
"If you're gonna say something like that, you should've at least said it correctly.." she mumbles, standing behind him. "We didn't have sex, I sucked you off," she whispers, hoping her mother wouldn't hear.
"You are acting as if me fucking you in your office didn't happen, baby," he winks at her, making a start on the tea.
"My mom doesn't need to know that.." she rolls her eyes with a knowing smile and backs away from him, standing beside him and leaning against the counter.
"Shouldn't you go to your mother? It's pretty rude to leave your guest alone," he raises an eyebrow at her, carefully pouring the steaming hot water into the mug.
Tuna rolls her eyes and heads out of the kitchen and back into the living room, thankful her mother was still on the sofa and not wandering around. "Taehyung is almost finished with the tea.." she tells her, taking a seat next to her.
"Honey, you know you can tell me if he's your boyfriend right?"
Of course she knew, she trusted her mother more than anyone else in the world. "Okay.. so he is my boyfriend.."
Oh, the smile on her mothers face was to die for "How long have you guys been dating?"
Before Yuna could give her an answer, Taehyung was making his way into the living room with a hot cup of tea in hand, handing it to the older woman, who carefully took the fine china from him, so as to not spill the beverage onto herself.
Her mother briefly thanked him and took a small sip, making sure not to burn her tongue in the process.
"You make a very good cup of tea Taehyung," her mother praises, showing him an appreciative smile. "I hope Yuna isn't forcing you stay and look after her. I'm sure you've got a lot of work to do."
Taehyung cocker a brow at her words, his eyes moving back and forth from Yuna and then to her mother. He frowned and cleared his throat, "What do you mean by that? Why would she be forcing me?"
Was it obvious he was growing a little tense?
"Oh it's nothing bad! Her last boyfriends usually wouldn't be around whenever she was sick, so I'd always come over and take care of her. This is the first time a boyfriend of hers has ever voluntarily took care of her," her mother gushes, rubbing Yuna's back gently, who smiled awkwardly ahead upon being reminded of her shitty exes.
"Ah, I see.." He then cleared his throat again, feeling bad for judging her mother too soon; he was getting mad at the lady and already got his guard up. He then shook his head, trying to get rid of the guilt in his stomach. "Well? I'm not one of her exes and I don't plan on being one anytime soon. If she feels sick or  needs me here with her, I shall be here with her and for her."
Either Yuna was hearing things, or she was smiling like an idiot for no reason. Everything he said was making her heart race and her insides feel warm and giddy, and it seemed like her mother had the same reaction.
"Ah.. We'll I'm glad. On a completely different note, I should probably get going. I only came over to check on Yuna, thinking she was alone, but thankfully she's in safe hands, so thank you for that, Taehyung." Her mother stands up, grabbing her bag and heading to the door.
Now it was just Taehyung and Yuna stood at the door. She let out a sigh of relief, thankful their first meeting went a lot smoother than she had expected.
"You good, Tae?”
"No, not really,” he responds dismissively, walking past her back to the living room and sitting down on the sofa with a huff.
He was too quick to jump to conclusions with Mrs Mei. Taehyung had to stop thinking that just because his mother was a bad person, it meant every mother was just as bad.
Yuna hesitantly followed after him, taking a seat next to him. "Do you mind.." she starts, tugging at her bottom lip, deciding on whether she should ask such an intrusive question. "Do you mind telling me about your mother? I mean you don't have to, I understand she may be a sensitive topic for you to get in to."
Taehyung would sigh, looking down at the rings adorning his finger and fidgeting around with them.
"No, it is fine. I guess you should know about my past if we're planning to spend our near future together."
Hearing him mention the pair spending their lives together popped another thought in her mind. So far, things were going so well with their relationship, she didn't stop to think about her plans for the future with him.
Were they serious serious about this?
She brushes her thoughts away to the back of her mind, focusing herself on him.
He cleared his throat, turning his gaze on her, and showing her a slight smile. "Just— please, do not feel bad for me. The last thing I need is pity."
Yuna nods quickly, knowing well she'd still feel pity for the man whether he liked it or not.
Taking a deep breath, he nodded, scratching his prickly chin, "Well.. My parents always wanted to have a son. My father owned a firm, similar to the one we work in, and thought only his lawyer son could inherit it. They didn't have any luck the first time around, having my older sister, Imelda."
In all the years she'd known Taehyung, she had no idea he had an older sister, and quite frankly, she couldn't really imagine it.
"So they tried once again and, much to my dismay, they had me. They believed that I was perfect for their sick plan of fitting me into their dreams, but I wasn't doing great at school. I prefered spending time with my sister, y'know, cooking and playing with dolls, instead of studying everyday and going to the firm with my father."
Yuna could only nod intently at his words. Understanding how difficult it must've been to grow up and being forced to live your parents' dream was not an easy one.
"After some time, they understood I wasn't the perfect son they imagine me to be," he swallows loudly, hesitating to mention the worst bit, not really wanting to hit her with something that would definitely leave a scar on her mind. It did explain how he ran away and came here after being almost being forced to partake in an arranged marriage.
She squeezed his hand a few times, noticing the concern and worry in his eyes, reassuring him that he could continue.
Taehyung was still hesitating to go on, and he couldn't face Yuna, not after the bombshell he's about to drop on her, so he turned away from her, resting his back on the sofa and throwing his head back to avoid her eyes.
"My father would beat me for any little mistake I made and I was treated worse than his guard dogs. If I got a bad grade, they didn't let me have dinner and if I retaliated or even tried to run away,  I'd be stuck in a state of constant fear, not knowing what he'd to do me next. And that wasn't even the worst part," Taehyung pauses, taking a moment to himself to collect his thoughts.
"My mother would stand there and watch. She wouldn't even try to stop him.”
Honestly, Yuna was in disbelief. You'd only ever hear about parents mistreating their kids on the news, but it certainly hit her a lot harder knowing that he was subjected to such treatment. What's worse was she couldn't even do anything to console him since he refused to accept her pity.
"Are you.. still in contact with your parents..?" she asks quietly.
"They haven't contacted me since I ran away. I only keep in touch with my sister, but I hear they're in the city right now. My mother is from around here and I heard from Imelda her father finally died."
Finally?
"Don't you think you should pay your mother visit? I mean, it's probably the last thing you wanna do, but maybe some catch-up with her would help?"
Taehyung sighed for what felt like the tenth time, as he hid his face in his hands. "I don't know. I'm still mad at her for everything."
She hums and leans back against the sofa with him. "Maybe.. your mother had no choice? You haven't heard both sides of the story so you should sit down and get some answers, don't you think?"
Yuna had a point. Taehyung was pinning a lot of the blame on his mother, maybe his father was hurting her too?
"Yeah, I think you're right," he concludes, standing up from the sofa, "I'll call my sister and ask if our mother is here, and if she is.." he bit down on his bottom lip, looking over at her, as he hid his hands in his pockets, fidgeting with his fingers.
"...You think you can come with me? I really don't feel like confronting her alone."
She stands next to him, the pity she'd been trying to hide for so long, now peeking out. "Of course I'll come with you."
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Yuna was going through her phone, waiting for Taehyung to come out of the shower, when a very important email caught her attention. She sat up in bed and opened the email, finally reading that the date for the hearing had been set.
3 days from now.
"Taehyung?" she calls out to him, getting out of bed rushing over towards the bathroom, which he was already leaving.
"Yeah?" He brushes the drenched strands of hair away from his eyes to get a better look at her.
"Look," she hands him her phone to take a look at the email that was sent to them by their boss. "They've set a date for the hearing. It's three days from now.
Taehyung merely gave her an 'are you being serious?' look, "What? You've never been to a hearing before?" he pouts, pulling at Yuna's cheeks and walking into her bedroom.
"Come on!! Are you not excited? Or at least scared? Worried? This is a world class case, you know. There's gonna be a lot of press and we're gonna have to do interviews, like how they do it in the movies.."  goes on and on about it until they're both lying in bed.
"Yeah, I know." Taehyung kept staring up at the ceiling, and when he felt her eyes burning into him, he shifted his head slightly to glance at her.
"I can see many emotions coming out of you right now, but I must admit, I really wanna put a close to this case. It's one of my least favourites to be honest."
"Mhm, agreed. Hopefully after this, things will go back to normal.." she mumbles with a sigh followed straight after.
'Normal' would mean.. Taehyung and Yuna going back to nothing more than work colleagues.
She didn't want that.
"Goodnight, Taehyung." She leans in to place a kiss on his cheek before turning her back towards him and falling asleep.
"Goodnight, love."
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thebangtancloud · 2 days ago
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Hiiii I saw ur taking request so I wanted to request something too. So it sounds depressing and would It be okay if u did a Bts reaction where they have a kid but their s/o passed away and now the kid is in kid of depressing mood. I’ve lost my dad and I wanted to see how they would deal with it?
He comforts your child after losing you ~ BTS Reactions
Genre: Angst
A/n: Dear anon, I'm deeply sorry. I totally understand the pain of losing a father, and I hope in some way, you'd find comfort through this.
Also!! I just realized (after writing the entire thing) that I might've read your request wrong, I'm not sure if you're referring to the s/o being the member or the reader but I've taken the s/o as the reader because I'm not entirely comfortable writing about the members in that sense. I really hope that's okay with you and I also hope this is what you had in mind ahhh :(
Kim Namjoon:
"Son?"
The boy's head turned at the sound of his father's voice, the ghost of a smile appearing on his face.
"You're up?"
Namjoon nodded, dumping the sheets that he was about to put into the washer onto the couch. With slow steps, Namjoon walked towards his son who had placed a chair a few feet away from the main door and was seated on it.
"What are you doing?"
The boy chuckled lightheartedly, turning to face the open door and pointing towards it.
"Sometimes I feel like mom would just walk in through the door like she always used to."
Namjoon looked at the door with little to no expression on his face.
"She would always bring me chicken sandwiches from the bistro at work. I still can never forget the jingle of her keys."
The boy glanced back at his father.
"Do you feel that way too? That she could just walk in?"
With a little tug on his trembling bottom lip, Namjoon cleared his throat and reached for another chair, dragging it and sitting beside his son.
"I do."
Both boys turned to face the door back again.
"Not just through there," Namjoon tentatively looked into his lap. "Sometimes I feel like when I wake up, she'll be there."
"I miss her," the boy admitted in a low whisper. "It's been hurting a lot more the past few days."
"Yeah?" Namjoon reached out and touched the boy's shoulder. "You can talk to me whenever."
"I know," he acknowledged. "I know."
"I'm not going to say that it gets better eventually. Life is never going to be the same without her. But you're not alone, that much I can assure you of."
"Thanks, dad." The little boy looked back at the wooden door.
"But in case mom does come back, I'll make sure to tell her just how much I love her. I never got to tell her that."
The corner of Namjoon's eyes burned when tears filled them, a broken sigh escaping his chest.
"She knows."
Kim Seokjin:
“Here,” Jin placed a bottle of soda before his daughter. “You’ve been working too hard.”
“I have to,” she commented with a little shrug. “The little ones need me.”
Jin carefully observed his daughter’s expression.
“They need…” she finally continued under her father’s stare, “a mother.”
Jin tried to cover the sharp intake of breath that he took.
"Darling," Jin gently touched his daughter's head. "You're too young to think that way."
She nodded a little. "I hope you don't feel bad when I say this, and I really want you to know that I appreciate the way you work so hard for all of us. But they don't understand that mom can't come back. They still write letters to her, they still include mom in their class drawings and stuff, and they miss her."
Jin sighed deeply. "I know. But that doesn't mean you need to take on the responsibility of a mother. I'm here for that."
"I'm sorry, dad," she spoke gently averting her gaze. "I just don't want them to feel the way I do."
"How do you feel?" Jin sat down beside her but kept some distance to give her her space to think and speak openly. The teen raised a hand to bite her fingernail before deflating into a defeated sigh.
"I know that mom is gone. I know that I don't have a mom now. I don't want them to feel that just yet. They're too young."
"Darling," Jin shook his head. "You're too young, too. Let me be the parent here, please. I don't need you to take this stress. Okay?"
"I don't know if I could do that, dad," she smiled tightly. "Sometimes doing things for them keeps me preoccupied and at the same time, it makes me feel close to mom. It reminds me of the way she used to work for us, the way she used to care for us. It makes me feel like...I'm becoming like her. I want to keep doing this."
Jin nodded in understanding.
"I'm sure mom is so proud of you for being so strong, just like I am. But I need you to promise me that if you ever feel weak, it's okay to feel that way, alright? You can lean on me."
A soft smile graced her features, a little nod following.
"I know, dad. Mom taught me that, too."
Min Yoongi:
"Dad, no," the little boy groaned, stuffing a pillow over his face. "I don't like pancakes."
"I know you do," Yoongi spoke softly, placing the plate beside him on the bed. "Please, just try it for me."
"I've not eaten pancakes for the past two months and you know why, dad. You make them perfectly and I don't want it that way! I like my pancakes b-"
The 12-year-old grew silent, staring at the plate beside him.
"Burnt? Like the way mom used to make it?"
He looked up at his father with tears in his eyes, immediately taking the plate into his hands.
"This smells the same," his voice cracked, reaching into the plate and picking up a pancake to bite into.
A little cry erupted from him, tears falling from his eyes and onto the plate.
"It tastes the same too."
"Mom used to always forget about the pancakes on the stove because she used to get too absorbed with the orange juice that she used to make. And you would always feel too bad to make her throw them away, so you'd eat them anyway, yeah?"
The boy nodded through his tears. "I miss her so much."
Yoongi smiled sadly, sitting down on the bed and patting his son on the back.
"I miss her too."
"Why can't she just come back?" he wept into the plate, teary eyes staring down at the almost black pancakes. "Why can't she just come back to us?"
"I don't know, son."
Yoongi reached into the plate and broke off a piece of pancake for himself.
"I really don't know."
"Do you think mom feels sad when she sees us this way?"
Yoongi shrugged. "I don't want her to be sad."
"Me neither," the boy admitted. "I want her to be happy."
"I guess she wants us to be happy as well," Yoongi said. "It's difficult, but she won't like to see us this way."
"I'll try really hard, dad. I'll do anything to make mom happy." The boy sniffled, taking another big bite and wiping his tears away.
"We'll make her happy, wherever she is. Okay?"
Jung Hoseok:
"Son?"
The young man turned to face his father, raising a hand to wave at him.
"Hi, appa."
"What're you doing here?" Hoseok frowned, reaching him and wrapping an arm around his shoulder. "All okay?"
"I quit my job," he got straight to the point. "I didn't feel like continuing there. I just came to tell you that before you got to know from someone else."
"That's okay," Hoseok's grip tightened around the boy. "That's perfectly fine. Are you feeling any better?"
He shook his head a little.
"I feel relieved that I don't need to be responsible anymore. But I'm not that thrilled. A part of me knows that sitting at home all day is not a good reason to leave a job, but that's what I feel. I hope you're okay with that."
"I am," Hoseok nodded. "Take all the time you need. Even if you wanna stay in bed or watch TV all day, I don't mind. You do what makes you happy, okay?"
"I'm not sure if this could make me happy, dad," he admitted. "Nothing really makes me happy these days."
"And that's okay too," Hoseok encouraged. "Honestly, I'm not happy at all, either. But we're trying, yeah? We aren't giving up, and that's all that matters."
"I hope it's not weird," the boy was already cringing, "but can I hug you?"
"Of course," Hoseok chuckled, pulling his son against him.
"Sorry," the boy laughed under his breath. "I've never really hugged you, is that weird?"
"Not at all," Hoseok smiled into the boy's shoulder, letting his palms run along his back. "We should do this more often."
"Right," he chuckled awkwardly, pulling away from his father. "I don't really like hugs, but today, I needed one."
"I'm glad you came to me, son," Hoseok spoke softly. "I hope I've not been too bad of a father."
"You haven't," he shook his head. "I'm sorry I've been so distant. I just needed some time, I still do."
"Take all the time you need."
Park Jimin:
"Sweetheart," Jimin sighed in relief, worried eyes meeting his daughter's own red ones. "I've been looking for you everywhere."
"I'm sorry," she looked away, playing with the little bouquet of flowers that she made for herself. "I just wanted to be with mom for a bit."
"You should've told me, bubba. I thought something bad happened." Jimin couldn't control the concern that was evident in his voice. He sat on the floor beside her, patting her back gently.
"I'm just glad you're safe."
"I'm always safe when mom's with me," she mumbled, her eyes falling back to the gravestone and gazing at your name written in cursive letters.
"I just got tired of being at home. I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I'm sorry I got you worried."
"It's okay, now." Jimin looked down at the flowers in her hand. "You made that for her?"
She nodded meekly.
"I didn't have money to buy a bouquet, so I made one."
"Your mom loves yellow," Jimin commented. "I'm sure she's feeling really happy seeing you."
"But I'm not happy," she looked away. "You always talk as if she's still around. It hurts. It gives me a sense of hope that I know I shouldn't hold onto."
Jimin exhaled shakily. "I'm sorry, baby. It's not been easy for me either, sometimes I try to comfort myself by pretending that she's still there. I didn't know it's been hurting you. I'm sorry for that."
"It's okay," she whispered. "I've been doing things that hurt you, too. So I guess we can call it even."
Jimin nodded, leaning back onto his hands and looking up into the sky.
"Have you eaten yet?"
"I left my wallet back at home, dad," she reminded him again.
"Ah, right."
"But I'm hungry," she looked at her father. "Can we go to mom's favorite place?"
Jimin finally chuckled with a little nod.
"You took the words straight out of my mouth, darling."
Kim Taehyung:
"Dad?"
Taehyung looked up at his son over the bridge of his specs.
"Yes?"
"Can I have your signature on this?"
"What is it?" Taehyung held his hand up for the paper that the 15-year-old boy had in his hand.
"It's a letter..." he trailed off, placing the paper in his father's palm. "A warning letter."
Taehyung pursed his lips, reading the words on the letter carefully.
"45% attendance?" Taehyung looked up. "You leave for school every day. Have you been bunking classes?"
The boy looked to his feet with a sheepish look.
"I'm sorry, dad."
"Where do you go?" Taehyung inquired, placing his glasses on the table to look at his son. "I'm not mad that you're bunking school. I used to do it too, but I need to know where you go. It's not safe."
"I go to the beach," he confessed easily. "I go there with Dan."
"Okay," Taehyung nodded.
"I'm a little upset that you've lied to me, but it's okay. I understand where you're coming from. I'll speak to your teachers."
"I'm sorry, dad," he apologized again, feeling a little guilty. "I just... I can't concentrate in school. I don't like being at home either."
"I understand, son," Taehyung gently smiled. "It's not an easy time, so don't stress about this. I'll speak to your teachers and ask them for a short leave. They'll understand."
"Please don't tell them that mom died," the boy rushed, panicked eyes filling with tears. "They'll tell everyone, I don't want that to happen."
Taehyung looked pained. He let his eyes run over the teenager who was wearing a pair of black shorts and a plain white tee.
"Okay," he agreed. "I won't tell them that. Call Dan and go out somewhere, get something good to eat, I'll give you the money."
The boy gulped, nodding hesitantly.
"I'm sorry, dad."
"Don't be. I'll figure something out, but we'll go to grandma's place for a few days okay? I'll speak to your teachers so you don't worry about that."
"Thank you."
Jeon Jungkook:
Jungkook held his breath when the door creaked, slowing his movements in fear of waking up his daughter. Poking his head through the little gap, Jungkook's eyes landed on his little girl laying on the bed with her back facing the door.
With little steps, Jungkook made his way over and gently sat on top of the bed. She stirred at the dip in the bed, her little head turning to see her father lie beside her.
Jungkook froze at the familiar scent that filled his nostrils, his eyes immediately filling with tears at the olfactory memory.
"I hope you don't mind," she croaked into the darkness. "I found this in my closet. It was like mom left it in there for me to find it."
Jungkook's fingers gingerly touched the cotton material of the pajama top that his daughter was wearing, too big and too real for her. He remembered how his daughter used to hate it when you wore it because it had so many ugly flowers and frogs that you had attempted to stitch onto it, but the way it hugged her tiny frame made Jungkook sigh sadly.
"It's alright, sweetheart," Jungkook murmured, resting his head back against the pillow and leaving his palm open on the bed.
"I'm sorry I've been skipping school," she continued with a small voice. "I'm sorry I don't-"
"It's okay," Jungkook spoke kindly. "You don't need to apologize for anything. I understand."
She grew silent, remaining still and little soft breaths escaping her parted lips.
"Appa?"
Jungkook turned to face her when he felt her little hand slip into his palm. He held her hand and delicately traced his thumb over her skin.
"Hmm?"
"Can we sleep in the same room? I'm scared."
Jungkook nodded instantly, but she couldn't see it in the dark.
"Of course. Why are you scared? I'm right here."
She took in a shaky breath, finally letting a sorrowful tear slide down her temple.
"I'm scared of waking up and finding out that I've lost you too."
Jungkook tightened his grip around her hand, turning onto his side and simply gazing across at the side of his daughter's face.
"I can't promise you that you won't lose me," he spoke realistically.
"I don't know what the future holds. But I'm here now. I'm here with you. Right now, I'm not going anywhere."
.
.
.
.
.
A/n: I couldn't attach any GIFs to this post, I tried a lot but I guess Tumblr is having some issues lol. I hope you liked this one :) I've written this entirely from personal experiences because this is exactly the way my mom comforted me when I lost my nana.
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filmcrystal · 10 hours ago
Text
the other woman | ksj x reader
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synopsis: when you are not fed love on a silver spoon, you learn to lick it off knives.
pairing: seokjin x reader
genre: angst, smut, cheating au, mistress au, fluff, unrequited love,
word count: 10k
author’s note: I spent the whole day working on this one, I hate myself for writing this way about my bias but I couldn’t help myself. There is a lot of angst, and I’m pretty sure there won’t be a happy ending but I’m still not totally sure. Feedback is always welcomed <3 enjoy!
warnings: mentions of sex, smut obviously but just light, a looot of angst, mentions of abortion between the lines, jin is super rude and a cheater, unprotected sex, oc has a lot of issues but please try to understand her. seokjin dom for obvious reasons.
chapters: O1, O2, O3.
songs:
• halsey – is there somewhere
• lana del rey – terrence loves you
• taylor swift – illicit affairs
• marina – starring role
• amy winehouse – back to black
• patrick watson – je te laisserai des mots
• lykke li – unrequited love
• taylor swift – wildest dreams
• lana del rey – the blackest day
• nancy sinatra – bang bang
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You are lying if you ever admit out loud how exactly all of this started, how one single glimpse of the so handsome man standing in front of you back then, introducing himself as your brother’s best friend and his fiancé lead to now having his cock inside of you, pounding into you almost as his life depends on it. Groans leaving his plump and pink lips, the same that just minutes ago were bringing heaven to you as he ate you out.
‘‘Fuck dolly, you feel so good around me,’’ you vaguely smile, full on the extasis his pace showers you. Mind completely clouded to dwell on the fact that the only praises he ever gives to you happen to be when his cock is disappearing inside your cunt.
He’s been fucking you for some time now, which is why doesn’t surprise you when he commands you to cum with him for the last time and you’re quick to comply, coming undone only for him and there’s this orgasm-smile curling his lips as he watches you from above, praising you again as you squirt while he still pounds into you, quicker this time and that’s when he can’t hold it anymore, groaning loudly as his cum fills you in. His glorious lips now kissing the crook of your neck, the same skin that now is fully marked by him just as much as his back is totally scratched by your nails, and you rejoice when you do because that’s the only trace in him that proves his wife that he belongs to you- even though he does not belong to you.
That’s when you come to your senses again and so it returns the sting of pain in your chest, the realization that he is married, that he only uses you when it’s convenient to him, that he’s in love with her and not you. And yet, you live for these moments. Moments when it’s only you and him, bodies intertwining as if they belonged to each other. Those moments when you’re so full of him that you can’t even remember your own name.
‘‘Are you coming tomorrow?’’ his voice brings you back to this world, the world that hates you so much that doesn’t give you a chance to love properly the man that’s currently dressing in the clothes that he so quickly dismissed right before fucking you.
‘‘I don’t have a choice really,’’ you stand up too and start dressing, only that this time you’ll have to return home comando. ‘‘It’s your birthday’s wife after all’’
Of course, you try to sound as if it doesn’t bother you, as if your meetings mean nothing to you more than just pleasure, but he sees right through you. If there is one thing Kim Seokjin knows about you, is that you don’t deal well with your emotions. He’s known you for your whole life, and even though there was always this line named Min Yoongi —your older brother—that, of course, he would never dare to cross, it came a moment when you saw him under different light and he could tell. So he allowed himself to look at you, really look at you, to spare a look at the way your neckline showed your rounded boobs to him, leaving only a little to his imagination when you caught him and accidentally you leaned in front of him, that’s when he felt that twitch inside his pants. And so, that was the first time he fucked you. Fully aware that his fiancé was only rooms away from you, but oh, the way you sounded when he pounded into you, the way you asked for more of his rudeness. He only intended to cave to the temptation that one time, but then somehow you always ended up seducing him again and again.
''Why? You don't want me there?'' you're teasing him, only that you know you're not joking. Because there are times that seem as if he really doesn't want you anywhere near his wife, as if he's protecting her from you. Almost as if he is afraid that the truth might slip your lips but he couldn't be wronger, because there is no way you're doing that to yourself, you would never tell anyone considering that if you ever did you would also lose him. And you love him so much to risk it.
''Now now, dolly. You can do whatever you want'' he mumbles as he disappears into the bathroom, tugging in his shirt to make himself presentable again, you've watched it before. How he tries to erase all the smell of sex you just provided him, right before he's about to meet with her again.
It doesn't matter how many times he proves that he doesn't care that way for you, it always ends up hurting you. As time passed you realized that he will never love you back, but sometimes there's still that little hope in your heart, lighting it up, fueling it with life but then that fire turns to ashes when he shows you how you're nothing more than a good fuck to him. And it hurts like hell, your heart breaks each day, each time you have to make your walk of shame down his apartment— an apartment he only decided to keep after your first encounter, to make things easy for both. For her to never find out.
[ 𖦊 ]
Being the daughter of a CEO was never easy for you, an absent father that never really left and led to cheating on your mom which turned her into some bitch you could never count on. Not that you ever felt like you needed them to be there for you, to cheer you on, you were almost sure that you didn't, that you turned out well even with their love missing. You felt like Yoongi's love was enough but now you realize that it wasn't. As you catch a glimpse of your own reflection, your face is barely recognizable as you try to hide all those eyes bags that are a gift of the night you spent awake and crying after seeing a new magazine full of pictures with a couple of the moment —Kim Seokjin and Im Hana. A CEO and the model are almost a perfect match.
You then hate that both of your families are so close, you hate that you have to be there to witness all the love he's not afraid to shower on her and will never dare to give even a crumb to you. You hate so much that you fell in love with a man that never belonged to you, that will never be yours to kiss in front of others, that will never show you a bit of care, not even if you're the little sister of his best friend.
 ''Everything will be okay, yeah? I'm right here'' your best friend, Jimin, takes your hand in his before bringing it closer to his lips only to kiss your knuckles.
He knows everything, and even though he sometimes wishes to reprimand you and tell you how wrong you are to mess with someone else's husband, he stops when he sees the so–loving look in your eyes when you stare at Seokjin. He reminds himself then that you're not doing it because you're just caving to your desires, maybe it was like that the first time, but now you cave in because you're in love with him. 
As you both enter their house, their perfect movie kind of house that portrays what a beautiful family they are, a few faces recognize you and wave to you, Jimin is always by your side as you greet some people here and there. He is quick to bring you a glass of champagne, communicating to you with his eyes that you will need it- and indeed you do, more when you notice her face in the crowd, a smile on her lips as she makes her way to both of you. And so you swallow the whole glass, your best friend growing in concern that he tries to hide smiling back to Hana, who is quick to set herself in front of you, kissing your cheek as if you were friends– but you're not, you're not that an asshole. But still, you try to keep it cordial for the good of both your families, knowing that she only happens to be the cousin of your sister-in-law, Misuk.
Jimin gets done most of the conversation, your eyes and attention flying to the hickeys that are adorning her neck. Hickeys that look pretty much fresh. Hickeys that he must have done last night. And there is that pain again, a reminder that even if Seokjin and you share some time under his sheets, she will always be the one he returns home to, with all his love and heart to give it to her.
 ''Jimin, Y/n, glad to know you came'' his light voice makes your eyes stare at him, swallowing the lump that's forming in your throat and you're not aware of the way your best friend is stopping himself to roll his eyes at the man because you're so busy contemplating him. How beautiful he looks in that gray tuxedo, forehead fully exposed thanks to his black hairstyle. You'd gladly die, as you suppress the urge to lean into him to kiss his forehead, to kiss his lips as you'd need him.
 But then that quick excitement gets replaced with pain again, as his arm finds its own way to her waist only to pull her closer.
''You look nice'' that's the only thing your brain catches from the conversation when Jimin speaks, and so Seokjin smiles widely to that.
  ''Perfect,'' he corrects Jimin as he tugs her even closer if that's possible, his lips kissing her cheek and causing her to copy his smile as her cheeks turn red for the compliment. ''She always looks perfect''
That's your queue to get the hell out of there and Jimin gets it, which is why he apologizes before congratulating her on her birthday and she must be really naive because she doesn't even notice that you didn't say utter a word about her birthday or at all. She doesn't notice the way you blink in some poor attempt to get rid of the tears that are threatening to flow down to the sight in displaying in front of you. She seems happy, and she's not aware of how miserable you feel for his husband. 
Jimin spends almost the whole time trying to distract you from your miserable state but there is no point because you can't help yourself as your eyes every five minutes start to search for him in the crowd only to find his arm by arm with Hana, smiling at her and looking at her as if she is his everything as if she is everything he needs. And that's when insecurities start hitting you, when you pay attention to the way she looks, so ethereal with her light brown hair, accentuating all her perfect features. Makes you think again about how he even paid you attention in the first place and even why he keeps doing it when he is so in love with her. For sure you're not ugly, but still, you're not her. You don't even look Asiatic, thanks to your mother, hereditament all her features such as her gray eyes, doe eyes as hers only proving how much of an American girl she is to the core, which is why everyone found hard to believe that Yoongi and you are brother and sister when you're as different as water and sand. Everyone thinks you're American, even though you're born and raised in Korea, countable times the ones you've actually spent abroad.
''Stop looking, Y/n. It's kinda obvious'' Jimin whispers in your ear and so you turn to him finally paying attention, not that he complains, he's the one that always understands you and is there for you, holding you and voicing out his concern about how fucked up you look but you always wave him off, acting as if he's not that big of a deal when as a matter of fact it is a big deal. A bid deal that's consuming you whole. Reminding you that's been almost two years since you're madly in love with someone you can’t have.
''Y/n! My little sister!'' that's when Yoongi appears in front of you with his so much known gummy smile, instantly painting a smile on your face too as he hugs you with care, demonstrating to you how much he missed you without literally saying the words. ''It's only been two months and I feel like it's been ages'' he mumbles as Misuk appears by his side too and offers you a smile, hugging you too and voicing out how wonderful their honeymoon was, 'cause yes, they went on a honeymoon for two months. Your brother letting go of every responsibility of his in the company only to be with her, and your heart sighs to that, yearning to have a love like theirs.
The distraction of their conversation is so welcomed by you, already finding yourself interested in what both are filling you in with about their freshly married couple's time spent. After a few minutes, Jimin excuses himself and you only nod in response, too immersed in the details your sister-in-law is proving you with, Yoongi excusing himself too for a brief moment. If there is one thing you appreciate, is to have Misuk. The fact that she's a few years older than you makes you feel protected, the way she cares for you and takes concern for your being, the way she tries to get closer to you in any given chance you have- somehow, she feels a bit like the caring mother that's missing in your life. And while you're so busy in that conversation, you fail to notice the pair of brown eyes that are looking at you from far away, those eyes that you know too much. Brows furrowing for a brief second as he sees the way Jimin kisses your cheek goodbye.
''Not that he can get rid of me, right, love?'' Hana's hand on his chest makes him return back to the conversation, brushing off the fact that you brought Jimin to his house. Mentally noting that he, of course, will deal with you later.
Yoongi comes back to both of you, but this time with a tall man by his side, smiling and nodding to something your brother just said to him and you notice the dimples on his cheeks. Cute. His brown hair falls to the left side of his forehead and covers only one of his eyebrows, and honey skin and as he gets closer, you notice the black mole right on the same place his left dimple marks. You're pretty sure he looks so familiar to you as if you've seen him somewhere.
''Oh, Seonho! Yoongi didn't tell me you were coming'' Misuk voices out as he turns to greet him and gently punches the chest of her husband, causing a laugh from both men.
''Y/n, this is Seonho. Seonho, this is Y/n, my little sister'' Yoongi introduces both of you, but your mind's busy trying to remind where you met him before but you're sure you would remember at the same time. If there is one thing that never slips your mind is one handsome face, and well, you can't deny he is indeed too handsome.
''Nice to meet you, Y/n'' he stands his hand for you to take and so you do, not going unnoticed by you how warm he seems and at the same time this bright aura on him, only obtaining a smile to give to him as you greet him too. But still, you don't seem to remember where you've met him or even if you have.
''We should get our seats. Jin told me they have an announcement''
Nothing good lasts, right? Because there is again that so familiar bitter feeling in your mouth as the reminder of the man that owns your heart, and instinctively your eyes scan the room to find him only that you don't. He is missing, and so is she.
[ 𖦊 ]
As the evening goes, you find yourself seated at the table that was only meant for Yoongi, Misuk, Seonho, Jimin, and you, which it turns out for the best for you 'cause you're sure you wouldn't be able to be closer to Seokjin and her, except that, of course, you don't have that much luck with you, not when you notice that the table perfectly decorated in the middle is obviously meant for Seokjin and Hana. And still, even if you try to lay your whole attention on the conversation exchanged by everyone at your table, you're eyes are glued to both. To the way, Seokjin cuts a bit of food on his plate only to feet her, and there is that gleam in his eyes, that gleam that only catches his eyes when is her he is staring at. Not you, only her.
At that exact moment, Eunji gets her seat right by Jimin's side and politely greets all of you, stealing all the attention of your best friend and you don't mean it in a bitter way, is actually nice seeing him that in love with a girl that's just like him. You always told him how you wished he had his own Jimin by his side when he needed and now he does. His own Jimin being Eunji. But still, you wished you had more support because you're still nervous about what announcement could they make. Maybe they're renewing their vows or they're going away– your mind's foggy.
''Not hungry?'' your confused look is set on Seonho as if you're asking him if he's talking to you, and he smiles, this time leaning closer to you and tilting his head to the dish placed in front of you, barely touched by your fork. ''You haven't eat''
''Oh,'' your eyes go back to him when you realize that in fact, you haven't touched your food but how can you? There is a wreck in your stomach at the moment and you feel a bit nauseous, but you're sure that's thankful to how it hurts you seen the man you're in love being in love with someone else. ''I ate a while ago''
Seonho only nods in response but he does not buy it and you notice when you keep staring at him, eyes engaged on his feautures as you deep try to remind where have you seen him before, an amused chuckle leaving his lips as he leans into his chair again. ''I believe this way you can focus better,'' he teases you and that's when you realize you've been staring him deep, a flustered smile on your face as you feel ashamed. He caught you staring. ''Why, though?''
He's clearly amused, and for an instant, you forget about your heartbreak.
''I feel like I've seen you before,'' everyone at the table is too busy with their own conversations to pay attention to yours, but then he laughs tilting his head while glancing at you, and you don't even know what's funny about what you said, genuinely confused at him, ''Don't laugh at me''
Your lips puckering in a pout and not that you notice because you're currently trying to avoid for Seonho to look at your embarrassed state, but for a brief second, his eyes set on your lips and he can't help but smile wider. Instantly grabbing his phone from his pants and starting typing something, you then think that the conversation has ended. ''Here''
He hands you his phone nonchalantly and that single exchange feels so intimate to you, but yet again, you always tend to confuse this kind of act- if you didn't, you wouldn't be so in love with Seokjin, a taken man. Your hand catches his phone and your eyes now move to the screen lighting in front of you, showing you this promo series called Hometown Cha Cha Cha, with the addition of his face and another actress right beside him. That's when your eyes bulge in surprise and your lips part too, turning to him again as you can't hide the state of awe you're currently in. And so he laughs again, finding you cute only to politely grab his phone back.
That's when you remember him. Not that you've watched the drama, but you remember the last time you were visiting Misok and she was watching it, and she secured you for a while only for you to watch it as well. But back then you were so fucked up -still are though- because that time Seokjin just fucked you in his car after he caught you in the streets, walking side by side with your coworker and he was quick to command you to get inside with him. You felt fear, fear because you're so familiar with the way his jaw clenched at he said those words, them being ice freeze. He didn't say a word as he drove, but you still could see the way his jaw was still clenched and the vein on his neck was popping, showing you how mad he was. And for a moment you were happy, as dumb as it sounds, you were happy that he felt jealous. It was a signal that he felt something. But your happiness was shut down when he parked somewhere far away from a crowd and started kissing you roughly, commanding you to get in the back seat just for him to fuck you without even preparing you. Fucking you hard, balls hitting your clit as his hands roamed your legs and made sure to leave his marks, groans leaving his mouth as he reminded you that you were only his- and then it hit you. Seokjin wasn't jealous, his ego just got hurt.
You open your mouth in order to say something but you're shut as the music that is playing in the background suddenly goes low and the clicking of a crystal echoes in the room, earning all of the eyes in the room head to the person that's clicking it, that being Seokjin himself at the center, standing proud and tall as he clear his throat and that causes your heart to twitch in pain.
''First of all, thank you all so much for coming. It means a lot to us, that you're here to celebrate my amazing wife's birthday,'' your eyes are glued to him and you again start feeling that lump in your throat. ''Even though her birthday is reason enough to gather you here, we have other reason too,'' he continues and you can see the way Hana smiles widely as the excitement is visible to all of you, and you don't know why but your heart is racing way too fast for your liking. ''Love, wanna say it?''
Disgusted. You felt sick at the pet name. The scene displays right in front of everyone.
So she stands up too, unable to erase that smile of hers, and Seokjin is quick to hold softly her hand as both turn to look at the crowd. By this time there are tears in your eyes, and you're not aware that Seonho is looking at you, looking at how hurting you seem and the next words start with new suffering inside of you, ''We're having a baby''
There are screams and claps everywhere in the room, but your entire world froze, as your eyes are still glued to the happy couple now kissing and you felt nauseous. Without a notice you gag without actually vomiting but in sign you are about to, so as you stand up your hand covers your mouth and the other one stays in your stomach as you make your way to the nearest bathroom there is, unnoticing that a figure is following you right behind the moment you stood from the chair.
(...)
Seokjin's touch against your skin is hot, burns like a flame, like a sin- and that's what it is, because even though he knows he shouldn't be touching you like this and you know it too, for some reason the lustful look in his eyes and the alcohol running through your system is enough to douse the fiery feeling, and enough to convince yourself that maybe, just maybe, this is okay.
(...)
You throw up, knees hitting the cold ground beneath you as you kneel in front of the toilet, letting all out as if they were your frustrations, your concerns, your tears- but you know it is no use because the pain remains. The pain that he just fucked you yesterday even though his wife is pregnant. Your eyes are clouded by the tears, being them from both the vomit and the heartbreak of those words that now will haunt you till the day you die. Words tattoed to your mind as the guilty starts kicking in, the guilt you should have felt the first moment he kissed you. All those times he fucked you in his office, all those times you gave him head when his wife was just in the next room. All those times you so tried so hard to convince yourself that he someday might be yours. Now you feel the shame you should have felt when your face was pressed into the soft pillow of his wife, a faint smell of her perfume on it.
You throw up again. You now feel the shame you should have felt when he stared at you that same time and ordered you to get up because he needed to change the bedsheets and urged your way out muttering that Hana would be home any minute.
You throw up again. You can't help but feel disgusted at yourself and your mind is foggy with those thoughts that you don't notice Seonho standing behind you, already worried enough when his mind joined the dots about your reaction and quickly decided to follow you here. In your state, you weren't even aware that you left the bathroom door opened which is how he entered, bothered enough to not even ask you for permission- now that he remembers, he will apologize for it later. But for now, he decides to lean closer to you as his hand rubs your uncovered back and that's when you jump in surprise. Too embarrassed to turn, you swiftly wipe the tears from your face and the remains of your disgusting act from your lips. Flushing the toilet as you stand up because the last thing you want to receive is a pity. But when you do stand up, his hand is on your waist to help you gain steady as you feel your legs a bit numb from the position you were in.
''I'm sorry, I-'' you're shut by yourself when you rise your eyes only to be met by Seonho's preoccupied eyes. There's no pity in them, only concern. ''What are you doing here?''
He is not touching you anymore but both of his hands are on your side only on guard if you stumble or something, a dizzy feeling strikes in when you're about to walk out of there and he's quick to grab your forearm. ''It's okay, Y/n. Let me help you,'' his voice sounds caring, almost as your brother's or best friend does, and you're not so sure given your current state, but your heart clenches at the way he sounds.
You're in no place to turn him out, which is why you allow him to cross his arm around your waist only to help you to walk to the sink, your legs are weak and it's fun in some way, knowing that just now your body is responding to every internal matter of your heart. You don't complain though, is what you deserve for getting involved with a married man- back then engaged. When you finally support your hands in the sink, your heart gets smaller at seeing the state you're in, and how of a mess you resemble right now. Seonho is still staring at you, concern still flashing through his eyes as you give the impression to be in some state of shock, and that explains why you don't notice how he starts typing on his phone, asking his assistant a big favor, and in hope that she replies, which she quickly does- the request only being to bring you some clothes, cleaning items to make you look a bit better because he honestly doubts you'll want to get out of the bathroom as how you're coming across now.
Time's still frozen for you, deep in thoughts and Seonho is only there. He doesn't say anything, he's only there as you start weeping yet again, hand covering your mouth in such a way to shut your sobs, which is why his consternations grow bigger and by then he blames his natural self to hate seeing someone else in that much pains that he helps you to turn to him and immediately yanks you closer to him, immediately showering you with his warm as you humor yourself to lean your forehead against your chest, it's not like you would do this just in front of anyone, it's just that you're too tired of holding yourself anymore. You're sick to the core of always trying to contain your feelings, pretending that your heart is made of stone when is the opposite actually.
''It's okay, I'm here,'' Sunho tries to comfort you at the same time his arms close around your body, pulling you even closer when he takes in that the only thing you need right now is to feel some kind of solace.
You're so engaged in your suffering that you don't notice how your hands tug into his suit, not that he cares, of course, he just feels as if he's somewhat close to you taking in mind the countless times Yoongi has told him about you. You seem harmless. Surely Seonho doesn't know the whole story but seeing the way you're crying he can't imagine a single scenario of you doing this on purpose. From one second to another, the door opens in a rush, the representation of Seokjin with an unreadable look on his eyes
Eyes shuffle between Seonho and your face that's well hidden in his chest, causing an immediate reaction from Seokjin as he clenches his jaw, and the prince that came to your rescue notices how Seokjin's eyes burn with anger. He doesn't do anything though, but even in your state you could feel how his body tensed and that's when you put some distance between your bodies before turning around and now the married man can have a better look at your face- all red, puffy cheeks and swallow eyes with still traces of your tears and if he feels anything, he doesn't show it.
''Yoongi is looking for you, where have you been?''
''What do you care?'' you bark at him. It's the only time you've spoken to him like that and he knows it, which is why his eyes grow a bit wider and tries to take a step closer but something stops him. That something being the fact that you're not alone. But you're too drowned in your sorrow that you don't give a damn anymore. You just need something or someone to retaliate all your anger on.
''Could you give us some privacy?'' Seonho is careful to ask but his eyes never meet Seokjin and oh, he notices. He notices the way Seonho's gaze is only posed on you and how his hand finds yours, what he obviously doesn't know is that Seonho is only doing this because you don't need to get more upset, not when you're literally sick.
''No can do, man. That one is my best friend's little sister and I will take her with me,'' silly Seokjin.
Seonho smirks at the point he just made, which is why he squeezes your hand under his and then turns to finally look at the tall man just a few steps away from you, ''Yeah, I know Yoongs. He invited me and I'm telling you he won't mind,'' your eyes are somewhere glued to the ground, not wanting to give Seokjin the satisfaction to see you that way once more, ''Now you can leave, I'll take care of her''.
[ 𖦊 ]
By the time you wake up, you're familiar with the pain that finds its way into your heart, mind, and body. Funny how people always say called it heartbroken but your whole body is resenting that pain, that pain named Kim Seokjin. It's been almost two weeks by now and you're not sure how you've made it so far, maybe it's because Jimin has been constantly checking you up and Seonho is taking care of you– in some friendly way. He is there. You don't understand how he makes the times for you still because well, he's a famous actor, there must be some things he has to do but even the same day they made the announcement, he assured you that he has some months off.
But still, he's doing a lot for you. He makes sure to drive you to work, to message you constantly just to check if you're eating well and when he can't come to your place, he calls you even if it's only for you to cry and whine about your unrequited love. By now he knows the full story, even though when you confined him with your tragic story was a result of a mental breakdown, you expected him to judge you or even to stop talking to you, but he never did. He just consoles you. Every time. To say that you've become friends is the safest thing to say, which is why you begged him to come with you to this dinner Yoongi invited you to.
He's still your brother and he's still concerned because he didn't buy your lies right after freshening up when Seonho's assistant came back with new and clean clothes for you, a toothbrush and paste and even some perfume, and make-up. He is your brother and he knows you like the palm of his hand, which is how he could see the pain in your beautiful gray eyes trying to avoid his as you assured him that you were fine.
''You're spending so much time together, should I print the wedding invitations just yet?'' Yoongi jokes winning a chuckle from Seonho's lips as you all walk through his house to the kitchen and there is already Misuk cooking something.
You try to make yourself helpful but Yoongi is quick to dismiss you, the four of you already finding some subject to submerge into and the only time Misuk asks you for help is to sit at the table. You suddenly have a bad feeling realizing that there are two more spots and if you were sure that your brother has a tendency to invite a lot of people into his home you would know for sure that you have nothing to worry about- but Yoongi is not like that. And you're sure as hell that Seokjin will be joining you, with her- and you're not ready to confront him, not after you've been dodging all his calls and texts, that hadn't been that many but still, is weird that he's reaching out for you with some other words than meet me at my place.
You're already preparing mentally when the times come to face him but you definitely are not ready when he greets all of you as he enters with his wife and pulls her chair for her, apologizing for being late and blaming the overwork at his office, awakening in you all those feelings that for sure you didn't get rid of but at least tried to calm down, as you see the way he looks even more handsome compared to the last time you saw him. But then you feel Seonho's stare on you and by the time you look at him he tries to offer you a reassuring smile, that you somehow try to give back. 
As everyone chatters you feel a bit of tension lingering in the air every time your eyes come to a stop in Seokjin only to find him already staring at you, but you're quick to turn your attention to anywhere else than his icy stare. Then it hits you that you were so stupid all this time because he looks happy with her. He loves her and you're just on their way- well, not on their way because he never stops himself with her. You suddenly feel like those boxes someone might store in their home and just forget at some point that they're there, not caring enough to toss them.
''So, how's the pregnancy going?'' Misuk excitedly asks, like she's been waiting a lot to ask them that and you don't miss the smile that immediately draws on Seokjin's lips at the mention and for sure you don't miss the way your heart clenches at the sight.
''Well, I'm only 3 months but he's been the best,'' you know Hana is referring to Seokjin but you're trying so hard to avoid looking at them as your eyes are glued on the cake as dessert Misuk baked for you. ''He's always there, he pampers me a lot''
She is happy. How could she not be happy? Is not like he knows her perfect husband fucked you even a few hours before they got married.
She's only aware that the man sitting right beside her is the perfect husband anyone could get, attentive, loving, and caring. He's the best thing that happened to Hana.Then there is again that nauseous feeling that has been your loyal company for the past weeks, Seonho even told you once that sometimes stress and some feelings manifest in illness and that seems what has been happening to you, but you can't stand it anymore, which is why you quickly excuse yourself alarming everyone on the table but you're so worried about the dizziness that you miss how every single pair of eyes in the table are now set on you.
''Is she okay?'' Yoongi asks what Seokjin is been dying to do, but always stopping himself too sure that if you dismissed each one of his calls for sure you wouldn't talk to him. 
Seonho presses his lips together and sighs deeply as he nods, dragging back his chair to be able to stand up, ''Not that much actually, I'm taking her to the hospital. Let me talk to her, okay?''
 Seokjin doesn't like the way Yoongi only nods to his words, why is he letting that asshole take care of you? Why does he trust him that much? He can't do much apart from watching Seonho go the same way you just did a moment ago.
''Isn't he older for her?'' his mouth betrays him before he can cope with the fact that he's been biting his tongue about it, ''I mean, not just a bit older. He's even older than you''
''Baby,'' Hana tries to make him get into his senses again but Seokjin quickly dismisses her as he turns to stare at Yoongi like he's waiting for him to answer, but Yoongi only shrugs as he carefully cleans his lips with the napkin.
''It's their choice, hyung'' Yoongi mumbles but he's not staring back at Seokjin, he is too busy gazing at the bathroom door that he can barely see from the way he is seated, the one Seonho just disappeared into. ''Besides, I trust him with her''
There is an awkward silence that clouds the room, at least for a moment before Misuk agrees that these days you seem off and exhausted, already setting with Yoongi that they should visit you more often and that he definitely should talk to you. Seokjin is too busy cutting the piece of his cake with so much anger and hatred that he even misses the way his wife takes glimpses of him, but his eyes only rise when he hearts the knot of the door being open and a few seconds later your figure comes only leaning to Seonho and no one noticed the way his jaw clenched at the sight. No one but Misuk.
Even when you already washed your mouth there is still that bitter taste at the tip of your tongue, you tug on his sweater of Seonho while you're still holding onto him thanks to the dizziness that refuses to leave your body. Just like you refused to go to the hospital the moment he told you as he entered the bathroom, but then he carefully mumbled that he would feel calm knowing that at least someone has checked you on, someone professional.
You try your best to avoid Seokjin's eyes, that one that consumes you even just by knowing his eyes are on you, yours only focusing on trying to smile at your caring brother that quickly stood from his chair to get closer to you and cup your cheeks, ''You can stay here, princess. Please''
The nickname makes you smile, genuinely smile and Seonho can't help but smile at the sight too, knowing that for a brief moment you feel happy. ''I'll take her to the hospital right now actually, we have to go,'' he tells Yoongi and his eyes grow wider at the received information.
''No way. I'm driving you there, okay?'' it's not like he's asking and you know that it would be no use to dismiss him, Misuk already standing from her place to get his coat while he grabs the keys and apologizes to Seokjin and Hana, only for her to answer that is so understandable and has nothing to worry about. Even she looks worried and there is that guilt again, guilt that's been with you since that moment too. The guilt you can't get rid of no matter how hard you try, because she doesn't deserve that dark side of Seokjin that shamelessly cheated on her.
[ 𖦊 ]
The doctor already checked on you, asking a few questions while doing so but assuring you that you seem okay meaning that there is nothing that serious, but just to be sure, he tells you that he will get some blood samples done to dismiss the concerning Seonho's quick to expose to the man. The whole time he stays with you, after assuring your brother that you will call him if something bad happens but it's already late and he needed to drive home though, Seonho also guarantees that he will ask his driver to take them home, Yoongi is not too thrilled about leaving you but at the end he accepts.
Now that you've spent a few minutes laying down you don't see the tears coming in response to all the hurt that your heart is feeling at the moment, how you feel lost without him- it's been costing you a lot to now give in to him because somehow you feel like you need him. You yearn for his touch, you crave his kisses. You can't help but miss how for a brief moment that at the time felt eternal to you, you could feel him caring for you. Only a bit. Or maybe that's the hope that your heart still holds, no matter how much time you spend trying to shut it down, is still there, pretty much alive.
Seonho allows you to cry, not that you need some permission or something, but he allows it in a way that he's not trying to stop you, which feels weird for you taking into the count all the times your parents reprimanded you when you started crying at a younger age, accusing you of weak. But every time you end up with your cries, he softly whispers how good it is for you to let it all out in some way, that you need to cry in order to not charge more feeling to the already heavy bag you're carrying. Now you realize that Seonho is the first calm you feel in a lot of time and you firmly believe that you never felt more thankful to live for bringing the first right person at the right time because you're in hell.
You don't know whether you should straightly end things with Seokjin or just –kinda– ghost him and cut it all without giving him notice because you're pretty much sure that he doesn't care if you do or don't. Some voice in your brain even convinces you that he will be relieved the minute you disappear from his life. Now that his full attention is on his new baby to come. The truth slaps you harshly as the reminder sets back into you, he will be a father. Certainly, you can't see him again.
[ 𖦊 ]
Not expecting to be at the hospital again just the next day, you feel your nervousness growing as you're sitting in the same chair you were just yesterday, Seonho right by your side again. The doctor called and said you needed to go there, and so you did. And there you are, hands sweating because even if you're always suffering from something, that being anemia, eating disorders, your asthma issue- there is always something going on with you that you're sure by now that life must hate you in some way. Not that the whole world knows about it, because you're always been discrete with the way you live, but still. It has been a long time since your asthma attack that you can't figure out what would that have to do with this.
''Don't be nervous, miss Y/n,'' the so familiar doctor tries to calm you but miserably fails because there is nothing that could calm you, not even the way Seonho intertwines your fingers with his to offer you some kind of console. ''Well,'' there is a brief silence when he sits down and opens the envelope, ''I already checked them the moment they came to my room and if I'm being honest, I was expecting something so different'' there is that silence again when he turns to look at you, then turning to Seonho and then his eyes coming back to yours, at the same time he hands you the results, ''You're pregnant, miss Y/n''
You hate hospitals. You for real hate them so much because there is never good news when it comes to this place. You hate how pale their walls are. You hate how the dim lights could make anyone blind. You hate the smell of super clean and disease at the same time, you don't know how to put it into words but you just hate it.
''I will give you a minute'' you barely hear the doctor's voice is followed by the sound of the door closing, leaving you to try to catch your breath as you feel now that it's missing in your lungs.
Seonho then urgently turns to you and cups your cheeks trying to get you to look at him and not even then you're able to feel the warmth that his eyes always radiate. You only feel lost. You feel as if you're drowning in the middle of the sea and then some wave comes causing you to drown even more. You even miss the times Seonho is whispering for you to calm down and try to breathe with him, failing at every attempt because the only thing your mind can register is the fact that you're pregnant with the baby of a man that doesn't give a fuck about you, the same man that's happily just starting with his family. You don't even know where it went wrong, because you're on the pill, obviously, it's not always effective but still, you recurrently fit an appointment with the gynecologist just to make sure you weren't pregnant because you couldn't take the risk. Way too sure in your decision that if you ever turned out to be, you would get rid of it. But now, as your lungs gasp for air, you're not so sure.
All you can do is cry, even when Seonho carefully drives you home without a word exchanged. Even when he helps you get changed into comfy clothes. Crying louder when you're finally under your sheets and gripping into them with all the strength you have, only for Seonho to lay by your side and pull you closer to his chest, and then your whining goes louder with your sniffles. He can only imagine what that must mean to you given the position you're in and it pains him, obviously, he has grown attached to you and his heart wishes to protect you- he's not ready to give meaning to his feelings, he just allows himself to take care of you as long as you allow him to. His mind already projecting a scenario where he offers for you to go with him for a while, that he's willing to help you with everything you need already sure that it would take a lot to convince you but he doesn't care. He cannot care when you're as fragile as now, seeming like a glass that just shattered in some cold surface.
You don't give notice of the time that has passed since you've been crying, hours already turning into days- days that you haven't uttered a single word, only nodding or shaking your head in response to Seonho's words, not even aware that he's been staying with you for those three days that you seem like a ghost floating away into sadness. You're not even aware that paparazzi caught Seonho entering your place and you're already on the news, you've barely been known as the rich kid of the famous CEO you have as a father- and well, he is certainly known for the dramas he's starred at. Seonho knows and he doesn't give a damn, all that he's been paying attention to is to get you some food and water even if you refuse each time, he's sometimes close to bringing the baby thing as a reminder but he doesn't feel like he needs to- you carrying it is a reminder enough. He doesn't even pay attention to the way all the news is filled with pictures of you and him inside his car, of you and him holding hands as you enter your complex. He doesn't, but Seokjin does.
And while you're still suffering and battling between what you should do and what you suddenly want to do, Seokjin is tossing his phone to the floor with so much rage after seeing all those pictures convincing him how indeed you're with Seonho. Too bad that he doesn't even take the trouble to ask you himself. He just assumes and that is further from the truth.
''You need anything?'' Seonho quickly stands from the couch not even trying to hide the surprise on his face when he sees you springing off the four walls of your room that had been your fortress. He is worried, worried about how tired and exhausted you look, even more with each day that happens and it would make sense now aware of the pregnancy, but it's just not that, he would be blind if he didn't notice how broken you are.
He doesn't say anything else as you just plug into the couch, taking his hand for him to go back to sit down by your side and so he does without complying, only then does he notice how there are drops falling from your wet hair to the white shirt covering your upper body and some pants doing their job at the lower part. You showered, and he tries his hardest to not smile because it's a big step even if you don't know yet. ''I think I should tell him”
[ 𖦊 ]
In Seokjin’s mind you’re Seonho’s girlfriend. In his mind all you’ve been doing is toying with him and using him for sex– not that he didn’t too but he would never use the words using when it comes to you. He tries to pacify his mind remind himself that he’s happily married, that his perfect and ideal wife is waiting for him at home with a baby growing inside of her and god– he couldn’t be happier about it. But still he makes a time to finally replying to your text, only to tell you to meet him at his office.
His mind is running wild– smirk on his lips as he can only imagine that you already miss him and are about to beg him to fuck you again, just like you did at every encounter he arranged. But he won’t let it go that easily, no, he’s furious at you. He for sure will make you suffer for the way you’re being portrayed at everyone’s eyes as someone else’s belonging. You should only be his.
His heart doesn’t clenches. Not even when you enter his office and see how much you resemble a ghost– all pale, looking skinnier than way back. He can’t afford to show you not even a bit of concern. Seokjin is so full of anger that he doesn’t cope the fact your lips tremble when you mumble that you need to tell him something important. He’s not aware of how your squeeze your own fingers trying to scare the tremble away, he’s only aware that somebody else apart from him has been fucking you. And he still doesn’t like it.
But before you can find the strength to finally tell him what you desperately rehearsed the whole night, how you would tell him that you’re pregnant with his child but have no interest if he being in charge, that you don’t expect anything from him and by no means you will ruin his new family. Right after your lips open, he spits quickly, “Don’t ever talk to me in private, I’m a married man, Y/n”
Of course he doesn’t mean any of that. In fact, his ego just desires for a bit of begging from you. His voice is cold towards you, the coldest you’ve ever heard from him anyway. And yet still, he doesn’t notice how then your eyes meet his and show him how much you just broke her with some words– erasing the bit of hope that kept her heart alive only to leave her with nothing.
He’s too blind on rage to see that your mind’s already missing the pet-name he gave you when it all started, telling you between kisses and moans how much it fits you because you’re a doll. Only dolly sounds cuter, he would say. That’s the only time he ever called you something remotely close to the kind of pet-names a man would give to his beloved.
He’s too blind on getting his payback to notice that tears are streaming down your face and you’re quick to get the hell out of there. Smirk on his face again as he only thinks that he just hit your blind-spot, that it’s only a matter of a few days for you to come back crawling for his forgiveness. To tell him that nobody fucks you like him, to beg for him to hurt you.
Fool Seokjin. That’s not aware as his mind is already imagining the kind of punish he will gladly give to your body when you come back, you, on the other hand, are already calling Seonho between cries, desperately asking for his help and how you need to get out of there– meaning the city, meaning Seokjin. Telling him that you can’t do it anymore, you just need to go.
Silly Seokjin. Thinking that you will go back to him while you’re already allowing Seonho to take care of everything for you to run away from that place. To run away from Seokjin.
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jungk0oksthighs · 18 hours ago
Text
Over The Odds | Between Us
Pairing - jungkook x reader
Genre - angst, smut, fluff, S2L, ceo!jungkook, sugardaddy!jungkook
Word count - 4.4k
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You drunkenly admit how you really feel about Jungkook to your best friend Jimin 
warnings: oc gets waaaasted, swearing, self-loathing, regret, angst 
FULL SERIES COLLECTION
It’s been almost four weeks since the video leaked, thankfully the press coverage has finally dwindled down into barely anything new – though copies of the video still linger on the depths of the internet. You figure it’s time to get some normality back into your life now, a sense of routine, you can’t keep living in your best friend’s bed forever. As tempting as that does sound.
According to Taehyung the police are no closer to finding the source of the leak, much to your disappointment. You hope with every bone in your body that it’s proven Jungkook didn’t do this, but you know even if he’s innocent it’s too late – you’ve ignored his messages and calls for weeks, contact has dwindled down from over thirty missed calls a day to two, and barely any text messages. Just as you warm to the idea that maybe he didn’t do this, he’s slowly but surely taking the hint that you want to be left alone, what’s surprising to you is how upsetting you find this.
You’ve thought about calling him so many times, typed out so many text messages that ultimately you ended up deleting. There’s a part of you that wants to see him, a part of you that knows he’s not the culprit behind the demise of your life. But as he’s slowly giving up and respecting your previous wishes to cut contact with you, you don’t know if now is the right time to reach out to him. Perhaps some things are better left unsaid.
“You okay?” Jimin asks, pausing the TikTok video he’d been watching on repeat for the last five minutes, some kind of fireman thirst trap. The two of you are laid in bed together on a late Saturday afternoon.
“Yeah I’m fine,” You offer a reassuring smile, “Do you wanna go out tonight?” You ask, and he widens his usually small eyes.
“Like out out?” His confusion comes as no surprise to you, you’ve barely left the house for a whole month and now you’re suggesting a night out in London, the complete opposite of what you’ve been getting up to these days.
“Yeah.” You nod, you know you can’t live this way forever – sooner or later you’re going to have to show your face outside. And what better excuse could you have for getting absolutely paralytic drunk, “But I’m not going to Black Swan.”
Jimin shifts closer to you in the bed, throwing his muscular leg over yours, “Are you sure you’re ready to go out? What if people see us? I don’t mind staying in, really.”
At this you shake your head, “No I want to go out, besides we’ve already watched everything on Netflix and we finally finished that jigsaw,” You grin, “I think it’s a sign.”
Your best friend chuckles, sleepily rubbing his eyes as he finally locks his phone and shuts off TikTok, “It has been a while since we went out hasn’t it? I’m down. As long as you’re sure?”
“I’m one million percent sure, on one condition,” You hold up a slender digit with an amused expression, “Don’t ditch me for that guy you’ve been seeing, no matter how sexy he is.”
He sighs dramatically but eventually gives into your request, “Deal.”
Soon enough you’re walking down a street in Camden littered with pubs and clubs, linking arms with the only man you’ll ever trust with your whole heart. Jimin looks good tonight, he opted for a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up and fitted navy blue trousers, his brunette hair is parted in a way which flaunts his thick eyebrows and exposes his forehead. At the risk of sounding arrogant you look good tonight also, wearing a tight high-neck burgundy PVC dress that makes your breasts and bum look plump and amazing, your waist looks tiny as the material clings to you in all the right places, paired with strappy heels of the same colour. You figure if the paparazzi want to get pictures of you, you might as well give them something worth photographing. It’s official, you finally don’t give a fuck about what anybody has to say about you – you’re out with Jimin to have a fun night, everybody else can fuck off.
“Gotta say I love the bad bitch vibes you’re giving tonight.” Jimin chuckles, squeezing your forearm as your heels clink against the pavement.
“I’m done crying about it now,” You say with confidence, and for the most part you genuinely believe that, “What’s done is done.”
“Well it’s good to have you back Y/N.” Jimin beams, leading you into a grungy-looking punk night club.
“It’s good to be back darling,” You ignore the way the bouncer recognises you straight away and step inside, “Shots?”
As expected the paparazzi spot your arrival and snap hundreds of pictures of you, your only response is to smile and pose with the man you arrived with, ignoring their questions about Jungkook and the video entirely. There was a time when this would’ve forced you to tears, but just like you said to Jimin moments ago – you’ve done your crying, it’s time you took control of your life and started living again.
Eventually the swarm of cameras starts to fizzle out, presumably as they realised you’re not going to entertain their presence aside from a few photographs. For the first time in a long time you feel empowered as you continue to ignore their questions, instead choosing to drink an unholy amount of alcohol that eventually has you feeling … more than a little drunk.
“Let’s dance!” You grip Jimin’s elbow and drag him to the glowing dancefloor that’s pulsating rhythmically to the beat of the song.
“I think you need to slow down.” He chuckles, though there’s a flicker of caution in his eyes.
“I’m fine!” You yell, exaggeratedly pointing toward your huge smile. It’s around thirty minutes and six drinks later when you’re swaying your hips to the lyrics of a song that a girl stumbles into your body, earning you to spill the contents of your drink onto the ground.
“I am so sorry!” She gasps, she must be having a good night you think to yourself, her eyes are hooded and drunk-stained red.
“It’s okay!” You reassure her, you’re in too much of a good mood to really care. It could’ve been worse after all.
The girl’s mouth falls open, a realisation hitting her like a tonne of bricks, “I know you!”
This gets your attention. You’re giving the girl a once over, she’s stunning – her eyes are the palest bluest thing you’ve ever seen, contrasting against her deep olive skin and jet black hair that’s slicked back into a high ponytail. She has an amazing figure too, one fit enough to pull off leather hot pants and a pink corset, envy washes over you at how beautiful she is – but you still don’t recognise her.
“You do?” Your brow quirks, Jimin’s too.
“You’re Y/N!” She yells, clapping her hands together loudly, “You’re Jungkook’s girlfriend!”
Oh. That’s how she knows you. You fight the urge to grimace as you register she must’ve seen the video, a deadly cocktail of vodka and fury bubbling within.
“Have we met?” You ignore the mention of Jungkook’s name, as it sends a particularly hard pang to your chest. Maybe drinking this much wasn’t such a good idea after all, the room is spinning but you can still make out her evil grin.
She shakes her head, “No, I’m his ex-girlfriend.” Jealousy adds fuel to the fire already threatening to explode inside your body, “I’m Jennie!”
“Oh!” You say surprised, in the time that you and Jungkook were together you’d never heard her name, nor did you realise he had any exes – he’d always told you that you were his first, “I didn’t-, sorry I’m a little drunk,” You chuckle mostly to yourself, “I didn’t know he had any exes!” You admit as Jimin watches on in horror.
“That’s weird,” She bites her lip seductively, “I guess he forgot about me… Being so busy in that beach hut with you.”
“The fuck did you just say?” Alcohol talks for you, throwing any decorum you have completely out the window. In life there are two kinds of people, the people that stand there and take shit from others – and the people that don’t. This is the moment you choose to be the latter.
Jennie giggles, “It’s hardly a secret now is it? Count yourself lucky, he was never that… Passionate with me.” Not only does Jungkook have an ex-girlfriend you know nothing about, but she’s also watched the video, and she’s also a fucking bitch.
“Lucky?!” You scoff, “You think—”
“Y/N.” Jimin grips your arm before you can fully raise it to her face, something you hadn’t even realised you were close to doing until now. The strobe lights flash on your best friend’s stern face, he’s not half as drunk as you are and so you trust his judgement over yours, “Come on lets go.”
“…Okay.” You breathe out, nodding in agreement. There are cameras all over the club, each one focussed on your every move. You’re drunk, you’re angry, but most importantly of all you know that Jimin is right, you need to leave before you do something you’ll regret.
“Tell daddy to answer my calls.” Jennie winks, and that’s the last thing you remember seeing before Jimin escorts you out of the club.
You’re fuming, understandably given how someone you’d never even met before tried to provoke you, deep down you know all she wanted was a reaction – and you already regret giving her one. Vodka, whiskey and gin swims in your bloodstream and fogs your senses as you stumble into the dimly lit street, clinging on to Jimin’s strong arm for dear life.
“Don’t do it.” He warns, watching you haphazardly pull your phone from your bag, “You’ll regret it tomorrow.”
“That sounds like a problem for future Y/N.” You slur, heading straight to yours and Jungkook’s text message thread. “I wanna know why he didn’t tell me about his ex—"
“Come on let’s go home, you’re wasted.” Jimin sighs, draping your left arm over his shoulders as you continue to fumble with your phone in the right. The fresh air enveloping your body only emphasises just how much you’ve had to drink, Jimin is right – you are wasted.
“I want to see him.” You admit with a sad smile, you feel so guilty about the things you said when you last saw him.
“Tonight’s not the night for that, if you feel the same way tomorrow you have my blessing to message him.” He’s walking slowly, probably because you’re dragging your feet on the ground and resting all your weight on him.
“I miss him so much.” You hum, closing your eyes.
Jimin exhales, sounding almost relieved, “I know you do.”
“Just-, just between us I think that I loved him.” Your tone oozes regret, your breath is hot on his cheek as you fall into his body, thankfully he catches you in time just before you hit the cold pavement.
“Just between us I know that you still do.”
--
When you wake you’re lying face down in Jimin’s double bed, alone, almost suffocating in the feather pillow. You groan at the banging sensation in your skull, reaching to your phone that’s being charged atop of the small bed side table. It’s midday. Sunlight burns your body through the crack in the grey curtains, you don’t remember getting home or getting changed into a pair of Jimin’s blue and purple checked pyjamas but here you are, confused and very hungover.
Last night is a blur, you can’t recall anything specific that happened – save for drinking more than you could handle.
You groan again, praying to every higher power that you didn’t say or do anything too embarrassing on your drunken endeavours, but when you unlock your phone you’re greeted with a message thread that confirms your biggest fears.
Y/N: Com and get me please I wamt to see you
Jungkook: Where are you? Are you safe?
Y/N: I miss you Kook
Jungkook: Where are you? I’m on my way
Y/N: Why didn you tel me yoiur ex
Jungkook: Answer the phone
Jungkook: Please
Y/N: She is stunnin g
Jungkook: What? Answer the phone
Jungkook: Are you safe?
Y/N: Jimin
Jungkook: Are you with him?
Jungkook: Answer your phone
“Jimin?!” Your voice is croaky and sore, winning you to cough into your shoulder, you feel so violently ill but you need answers, you need to know what happened last night and what prompted you to message your ex sugar daddy, “Jimin come here please!”
Nothing. He must be at the gym. And so you dial his number instead.
“Hey Y/N.” Jimin sounds out of breath, “How you feeling?”
“What happened last night?” You whine with pouted lips, covering your face with your free hand.
“Don’t be mad at me you’re the one who messaged him.” He chuckles, you hear beeps from a treadmill in the background, presumably as he decreases his speed, “I tried to talk you out of it, you said it was a problem for future Y/N.”
You stifle yet another disappointed groan, “Yeah that sounds like me.”
“Is he awake?”
“How am I supposed to know? I’ve only just seen the messages.” You frown, you haven’t been awake long enough to function properly yet.
“How long have you been up?” He sounds confused, you get the feeling you’re missing something bigger here.
“Less than two minutes.”
“Ah,” Jimin clicks his tongue, “There’s pain killers for you in the living room.”
“Thank you so much.” You sigh, mustering the courage to get out of bed, your body is screaming that it needs water.
“I’m gonna go, but… Don’t be mad, okay?”
“Why would I be mad?” Your bare feet hit the carpet as you gather strength for the short walk to the water and pain killers. Jimin ends the call abruptly, winning you to frown and quietly curse him under your breath.
A quiet knock on the bedroom door startles you, you freeze on the bed and glance around the room for any possible weapons. Jimin’s at the gym, he lives alone, or at least he did until you moved in. The wooden door opens slowly, with caution, and for the first time in almost a month your eyes meet Jungkook’s.
“Hey,” He clears his throat, his voice is huskier than you remember it, “I brought you some water and pain killers.” He doesn’t come into the room, he remains in the doorway holding your hangover cure.
The first thing you notice is that his hair is a little longer, the raven locks messily cover his hooded eyes in places. He looks…bigger than you remember him, his black oversized Balenciaga t shirt doesn’t seem so oversized anymore. He’s wearing tight jeans of the same colour and Doc Martens, all tied together with a pained expression contorting his sharp features.
“What are you doing here?” Your voice is merely a whisper, you know you look like shit right now, you can’t bring yourself to look him in the eye. Instead you settle your vision on the long silver chain he’s wearing.
“You don’t remember?” He exhales, somewhat shakily. You don’t need to look at him to know that he’s gazing at you with something indescribable.
At this you shake your head, you don’t remember a thing.
“You texted me and asked me to pick you up… But I couldn’t make sense of the messages so I called Jimin,” He clears his throat again, “He said that you were really drunk, he was struggling to get you home so I came and got you.”
“But you hate driving.” Is all you manage to say.
“I know,” The hint of a smile ghosts his lips, “But you needed me.”
Silence falls upon the messy room, your clothes from last night are strewn across the floor. You cringe, wishing you could remember anything past being on the dancefloor with Jimin. It’s when you see your black lacy underwear at the foot of the bed, next to the newly completed Disney Princess jigsaw that you have to ask:
“We didn’t-, nothing happened did it?”
“No,” He reassures you, chewing his lower lip nervously, “You were wasted Y/N, I wouldn’t take advantage of you like that.”
“…I know,” You breathe out, “I’m sorry.” There’s a small pause before you speak again, “Thank you for bringing me back here, but... Why did you stay?” You find the courage to look at his face, immediately retting that decision. He’s still so handsome, so effortlessly handsome, and he’s looking at you with so much sadness in his eyes that your heart aches.
“Jimin slept out, but he wasn’t going to leave you on your own in that state, he almost cancelled on whoever he was supposed to be meeting so… I said I’d stay with you and told him to go. Don’t worry I slept on the sofa.”
“I don’t need a babysitter I’m a big girl,” You chuckle awkwardly, mostly to yourself, “But thank you, you can come in you know.”
Despite the obvious tension weighing the air in the room, you have to admit you’ve missed Jungkook. You feel comfortable in his presence, you feel safe. You watch him cautiously step over the threshold of the bedroom, his inked fingers graze yours as he passes you the items he initially brought for you.
“So… You’re okay?” He asks, awkwardly sitting next to you on the bed.
“This isn’t my first hangover.” You smile, genuinely smile upon smelling the familiar scent of his expensive cologne. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
“No I meant-,” He smiles back, he’d almost forgotten all about your brattish sense of humour, “…How have you been?”
“Fine.” You lie, trying to save face. It’s so obvious you’re not fine. “How have you been?” You throw the white pills to the back of your throat and chug them down with the glass of water, placing it on the side table when it’s empty.
“Fine.” He lies too, it’s obvious he isn’t fine either, he’s palming his knees anxiously, “So you you mentioned that you met Jennie last night?”
Ah, Jennie. Jungkook’s ex-girlfriend. It all comes rushing back to you, how beautiful she was, how much of a fucking bitch she was… How she referred to Jungkook as daddy, just like you once had.
“Mmm,” You nod, “She’s stunning.” You look at him for any kind of reaction, but he doesn’t react at all, instead he stares at the television in the corner of the room – even though it’s turned off and only displays the faint reflection of your conversation.
“Mmm.” He doesn’t agree nor disagree with your comment much to your disappointment, ruffling his hair, “Was she rude to you?” He sounds tired.
“A little, nothing I couldn’t handle.”
To this he chuckles, the sound alone makes your heart pound even harder as he’s turning to face you, “Of course not. Things with her didn’t end well, so I’m sorry if she said something to you.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you have an ex-girlfriend?” Curiosity gets the better of you as you try not to get completely lost in his big brown doe-eyes. “I mean I guess it’s none of my business now but--”
“She’s not an ex-girlfriend. She was-, you know…”
“Oh…” It hits you, she’s an ex-sugar baby of his. Of course you knew that there had been others before you, but you’d never pried into his past or asked many questions about it – mostly because your self-esteem can’t handle the idea of him being with another woman. Especially not a woman like her. The memory of her calling him daddy makes much more sense to you now, you grimace. “She wants you to answer her calls by the way.”
“Well that’s not gonna happen.” He’s quick to dismiss you, you watch his Adam’s apple bob in his throat when his eyes focus on your lips for a split second, “Uh-, I should go, I’m glad you’re okay. I’ve never seen you that drunk before.”
“I’m not sure I’ve ever been that drunk before.” The corners of your mouth turn up ever so slightly, as do his, “I’m really sorry.”
“Don’t apologise, I’m just glad you’re safe—”
“No,” Your hand quickly finds his hard shoulder as you stop him in his tracks, “I’m sorry about what I said to you the last time I saw you.” It feels so good to finally get that off your chest.
Jungkook nods slowly, trying to ignore how he still melts beneath your touch, “Everybody says shit they don’t mean out of anger.” He sighs, peeking his head around the room, not daring to look you in the eye.
“You didn’t.” You remind him.
“I wasn’t angry.” Now he’s looking at you, and it’s intense, “I’m upset that you think I’m the one who leaked the video, but I was never angry, not with you anyway.”
“Jungkook…” You whisper his name for what feels like the first time in forever. Deep down you know he didn’t do what you initially accused him of, now that you’ve calmed down you can feel he’s just as devastated by this as you are, “I-, I don’t think it was you. I mean I did, but… God the things I said… I’m so sorry.”
“I’ve missed you Y/N.” His expression is unreadable, while you don’t expect him to forgive you his words give you a spark of hope, and you cling onto that spark with everything you have.
“I’ve missed you too.”
“I called you every day,” He loosely grips your wrist and removes it from his shoulder, settling for lacing his fingers with yours, “I texted you every day… You asked Taehyung if he thought you should call me, and then never did.”
“I know.” You gently squeeze his hand, guilt gnawing your insides for ignoring him all this time, you try and justify yourself even though you’re well aware that he has every right to feel the way he feels, “I needed space to process everything… I really am sorry.”
“I know.” He squeezes your hand back, his voice low and full of emotion, “I just wish you would’ve told me that rather than storming out my apartment and never coming back.”
“I-,” You’re nodding in agreement, you know you’ve fucked up, “I know.”
Your phone buzzing wins you both to look at the source of the vibrations, it’s face down against the bed sheets so you’ve no idea who’s calling you – nor do you care at this moment in time.
“Are you gonna get that?” Jungkook asks, comfortably rubbing his thumb across the top of your index finger.
“It can wait.” You give him an apologetic smile, keeping a tight grip of his tattooed hand, “I really don’t expect you to forgive me…”
“Forgive you? Y/N you’ve done nothing wrong.”
“I’ve been ignoring you for weeks.”
To this he sighs knowingly, closing his eyes, “I’m not saying you handled things perfectly because you didn’t,” He shifts his weight on the bed, turning his body to face you completely as he sits cross-legged, “But neither did I, I’m just glad you’re okay. I’ve been worried about you.”
“It was rough at first, but I’m okay. I’ve been worried about you too, I’ve been Googling you every five minutes.” You chuckle at how pathetic your honesty sounds, mirroring his movements and sitting cross-legged on the bed facing him, your hand still swallowed by his.
“I swear I had nothing to do with the leak.”
“I know, and I believe you.”
“So what happens now?” His question comes after a brief comfortable silence, catching you off-guard, “Between us.”
You grab his other hand and look him dead in the eye, realising nothing else matters, not how messy the bedroom is, not how badly your head aches from the hangover, not the paparazzi nothing. Just you and him.
“I’ve missed you so much Jungkook.”
“I know, and I believe you.” He copies your words with the faintest yet most genuine smile, “I’ve missed you too.”
“So what does happen now?” You’re nervous, you don’t know what you expect him to say but your rapidly beating heart wants nothing more than for him to accept your apology and hold you in his arms. You feel like an idiot for taking so long to realise that he could never hurt you in the ways you accused him of, whenever you’ve needed him he’s been there for you. In an ironic twist of fate when you needed him the most you were the one who pushed him away. “Between us?”
At this his profile turns serious, he’s frowning, staring at you so intensely that you feel almost small, his eyes are shiny and resemble exactly how they looked the night you left him. His head nods once, twice, three times as he braces himself, he lets go of your hands and tightly grips either side of your jaw, his palms warm against your cheeks as he desperately pulls your face closer to his.
“Come here.” 
x
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jeonqkooks · a day ago
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supernova | jjk (moodboard)
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Supernova, noun. [suːpəˈnəʊvə] the colossal explosion of a star when it has reached the end of its life and explodes in a brilliant burst of light.
pairing: jungkook x reader
genre: idol au, established relationship, angst
word count: approx 2k
↳ read the full story here | playlist
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bubbleey · a day ago
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Yes please to the Jungkook's POV drabble. 👀👀👀
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Pairing: Nerd!Jungkook x Fuck girlish?Female Reader
Genre: Smut, Angst, and fluff; Slow burn; Strangers to Lovers; College!AU
Rating: +18!!!!! Minors please DNI
Word Count: 500
Summary: Your idiot of a best friend, Kim Taehyung, dares you to get into the resident nerd’s pants, but maybe you’re just as stupid for accepting.
Next Chapter Release Date: May 17th
Warnings for this chapter: swearing, voyeurism???(not sure what to call it but Jungkook listening into Reader and Hoseok), semi-public masturbation(m), multiple orgasms(m), Dom!Hoseok, Sub!Reader
Notes: Ok so here is the drabble that I alluded to. Provides some context to JK's behaviors in the next chapter that I will be releasing tomorrow. Feel free to read the previous chapter for context if you haven't. Sorry for all of the delays but finals are finally over so I can do more writing, I hope you enjoy this short drabble!
Series Masterlist
~~~~~~~~
“Hoseok please,”
What Jungkook would do to have you beg for him. In his limited experience with women, he’s always naturally taken the more submissive role in the relationship. But, the thought of making his Noona whine and beg for just for him, because of him, has engraved itself in his mind.
He finds himself growing jealous of how you let Hoseok satisfy you. He knows Hoseok, very aware of his reputation on campus before he left. Nothing negative but his bedroom reputation definitely outweighed his reputation of kindness. In a way, Jungkook envies him, well more so the confidence he has in his skills and now more than anything his current position.
His mind is quickly brought back to you, sounds of pleasure escaping you as you do a terrible job at following Hoseok’s instructions. He can’t help but bring his hand down to palm himself over his jeans, seeking any sort of relief.
“Please, let me cum. My pussy belongs to you, sir.”
Oh, how he wishes that was directed at him, but for now, he’ll pretend like it is. It’s torturing him to have you so close yet so far and it has him settling for his hand as a replacement.
Growing frustrated at the lack of contact, he quickly attempts to pull down his zipper quiet enough to keep his presence unnoticeable. He sighs at the small bit of relief as he pulls his pants down just below his hips to release his weeping cock.
Spitting into his palm, he brings his hand down to quickly tug at himself. He tries to match pace with the sounds of Hoseok fingering your wet pussy but can’t help his pace from stuttering. He finds himself slowing down his hand, a measly attempt to prolong his pleasure.
“Come for me,”
His pace quickens as he now fucks his hand, desperate to cum as your dulcet moans fill the stall. The image of you cumming on his tongue floods his mind, and throws him over the edge in time with your orgasm. He cums into his hand, continuing to pump himself slowly to ride out his high.
He almost whines in overstimulation when he hears Hoseok demand another orgasm from you. His hand has a mind of its own, stroking himself to full hardness again.
“Jungkook,”
Is what he pretends to hear when you moan Hoseok’s name again. He envisions that it’s him your kissing and that it’s him that you’re gasping for, looking so fucked out right now. The thought of you looking so pleased and pretty because of him is what pushes him to his second orgasm, not able to stop the whiny moan that leaves his mouth.
He’s quickly brought back to reality and where he is when he notices the sudden silence that takes over. It has his heart rate quickening in fear of having been caught. But, he hears Hoseok say his goodbyes as you follow in pursuit.
The sound of the bathroom door swinging shut is his signal to clean up. The feeling of embarrassment takes over him once again for the second time this week. But, it’s dulled out by this new feeling driven by the events that just transpired.
He wants you to beg for him.
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deepseavibez · 2 days ago
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Nerve_25.1 || KNJ
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Nerve [Namjoon x Reader]
Prompt - @casnextdoor
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Part 25.0 - Dissidence
Part 25.1 - Wildflower
Part 25.2 - coming soon
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Genre - cheating; aftermath; husband au;
Summary - You would never expect it really. He's doting. He's sweet. He's hardworking. But he's forgotten his morals. Suspecting it is one thing, but when he confirms it, will you stay or walk away.
Warning - Cheating(Aftermath); Mentions of anxiety and depression; Smut (Implied);
Word Count - 7.4k
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Earlier that night in Club Orbit...
If anyone told you a week ago, you’d be sitting next to Jang Li-Rah, the nation’s darling, sharing sushi – you’d have laughed in their face.
Up until recent events, you envied her. Strike that. You still envied her. 
You wouldn’t berate yourself for it. She was beautiful, with her smooth skin, long legs and toned body. She was taller than the average woman, but had a grace to her features that conveyed vulnerability and somehow the balance commanded respect, while simultaneously creating the idea that she needed protection. 
She had a painful backstory, having turned her life around despite her family’s poverty. She trained extensively for years, honing her skill as a vocalist and debuting as a soloist under her stage name. She turned to acting, modelling, producing, composing and used as much of her free time to contribute to schools and anti-bullying campaigns. Above all, she was polite, kind and grounded.
Perfection may be impossible, but in your opinion, she came pretty close.
It was huge that she signed up with the same studio and had individual collaborations with each of the band members. 
For obvious reasons you stayed away from her. 
You would be reminded that she would be a perfect fit for Namjoon and a relatable person to have around the band. You would hold a contest in your head as you got through the reality of your life. You didn’t like feeling insecure, which was normal considering the whispers in the back of your mind. You would hear them compare. Her presence somehow increased the volume. If you were completely sober, you’d hear those whispers turn into shouts. 
Good thing you were buzzed. 
The music played, the gaudy pink of your surroundings barely bothered you and your heels were kicked off as you sat with one leg tucked under the other on the couch.
Yuna was smiling – which was the most important thing. She sat on the single circular loveseat, her feet hanging over the edge, on your left. Directly opposite you, were the two troublemakers, Ria and Kae-Lee. Kae-Lee was mischievous, naturally. Ria, the solid rock of your assistant, was tipsy as fuck, or she would not be giggling like a schoolgirl. Jia couldn’t make it, an emergency of some sort with her girlfriend’s family. They were fine, Yuna made sure to find out before they let Jia off the hook for the night.
You started the night off with a sense of purpose. A bit of conversation and catching up. Kae-Lee and Lirrah, were acquaintances and worked on an album together. Yuna and Lirrah met on a movie set that Lirrah starred in and Ria knew Kae-Lee and Yuna well because of their closeness to you. Then you all took the dance floor under the watchful eye of your team, did some shots, and immediately hyper-focused on food when you were tired. 
Lirrah had foregone her two bodyguards under your assurance. You were confident in your team’s abilities – even if Kenta was absent.
You did miss him. His usual bossy self yelling in your ear for a misstep or standing too close to a stranger. Apparently you would be the catalyst of his grey hair phase. 
You didn’t have to miss him too much though.
The comm set you had on was merely for precaution and you barely paid attention to it, but Kenta insisted you take note of how the team worked without him and without them actually knowing you were on ghost mode.
They were doing well enough.
Kiri was adamant about being the only one to handle the drinks for your room and leveled a glare on anyone who dared dispute it. Xan was being his usual weirdo self, you stuck your tongue out at him earlier when he kept a watchful eye on your group even with the women around him. 
The easiest to spot was Zwahn and Yeon, they carried out the heavy bouncer act and Zwahn went as far as to make a subtle cut off motion when you had your fifth shot at the bar. You replied in kind by scratching an imaginary itch at the edge of your eye with your middle finger.
As for Yoshi and Yeon, you felt their gaze the whole time. It took some getting used to – being high profile and needing protection. But knowing who they were under all that steel helped a whole lot. 
Kiri deserved love, Xan and Jinx, validation and Zwahn and Yeon, allowed to just be. And Kenta and Yoshi needed to chill out a bit more. 
‘The concept of a strong female lead sails over people’s heads.’ Yuna lectured, as she chewed on a Tempura Roll. ‘I mean, I am a sucker for falling head over heels in love, but just because a bitch falls in love, doesn’t mean she leaves any of her life behind.’
You popped a piece of ikura nigiri in your mouth as you listened to her rant.
‘Realistically speaking, all of us here have amazing jobs, we work hard and we have a specific personality for each of our roles. So when a script starts off with a CEO or artist or influencer or even actress or doctor,’ she motioned to each of them absently, ‘freaking allow us into that portion of their life. I understand that this thing, this love or this person is important, but show me why.’
‘Your leading ladies have always brought a lot to the table.’ Ria agreed, dipping some tuna sashimi into her soy sauce.
Kae-Lee made a muffled enthusiastic sound as she swallowed before saying her piece. ‘Your last script, the recently released one, I’ve honestly never seen Artemis portrayed that way.’ Lirrah handed her a napkin for her mouth with her ring and pinky finger. ‘You think greek goddess and wild hunt, and expect bows and arrows and the moon. But Missy, cute nickname for her by the way –,’
‘And amazing play on words making her full name Misera,’ Lirrah added.
‘Yes!’ Kae-Lee exclaimed. ‘Missy is a florist. One of the most …’ she bobbed her head as if looking for the right word. ‘Genteel?’
Ria squinted. ‘Mellow.’
‘Okay, yeah. A mellow profession. It’s pretty chilled.’ The artist’s eyes widened dramatically. ‘But her hidden past comes to the fore and she has to learn how to defend herself. It played out really well.’’
You closed one eye, bracing for backlash and confessed. ‘I didn’t like that movie.’
‘What!’ Yuna dropped her legs and turned her whole body toward you. ‘Why?’
You grabbed a salmon sashimi from the platters of sushi in front of you. ‘Because,’ you looked at her pointedly, ‘your original script used Artemis as a metaphor. Misera had a war waging in her head because of her past. Everyone thought she looked meek, docile and easy. But in reality, using the same determination she had in her blood, she learned to tame her demons and handle life with preternatural calm. She may be governed by her emotions but it never took the lead.’ You frowned, ‘The metaphor would have been artistically intrinsic. She didn’t need some hidden life like some sort of Spy Kids rip-off.’
The silence stretched a bit too long before you looked up from the sushi platter. You blanched at Yuna’s sad face.’The movie was good overall, Yuna. But they bought your script and turned it into something mainstream.’ You held both her shoulders and shook her. ‘You are not mainstream.’
Her shoulders relaxed in your hold. 
‘Have to admit,’ Kae-Lee looked at the floor, ‘that’s a different perspective.’ She raised her head to Yuna. ‘I would have liked to see your version.’
Yuna sighed and sat back. ‘Perks of having great friends.’
‘We don’t support you just because we’re your friends.’ Ria reminded her. ‘We actually like your scripts.’ Ria dropped her voice an octave and side-eyed Yuna. ‘It’s your bitchy mood that needs a little work.’
‘Please!’ Yuna huffed a laugh and threw a napkin at Ria, 'you cannot throw stones at me, I'm surprised frost doesn't drip off you.' 
‘You know what would be a good idea,’ you thought out loud when the laughter died down after they traded insults. ‘If Lirrah acted in a Yuna movie where Kae-Lee was the concept artist.’
Yuna sat up and grabbed your wrist. ‘No fucking way,’ she looked at Kae-Lee and Lirrah, ‘we should totally do that.’
She had your wrist in a tight grip so you had to lean and close your mouth over the piece of sushi in between your thumb and forefinger. 
‘No one would give three females complete control. You know the complications involved.’ Kae-Lee was no longer the sweet young adult in front of you. She had experience of the actual goings on in the industry behind her. ‘Even if we somehow came up with the funding, we’d be ‘going rogue’ depending on our contracts.’
‘Well no one is asking you to do it now.’ Ria disputed calmly. ‘Specifics like that should be considered when you have something to actually work with, meaning a script.’ She crossed her feet in front of her. ‘And there are always loopholes if you want to leave, Bell. We’re happy for your progress, but if you ever want to come home, we will find a way to make it happen.’
You watched Kae-Lee drop her head on Ria’s shoulder without saying anything more. 
‘And I don’t know why you’re worried about funding,’ you said haughtily, ‘I’m a walking goldmine.’
‘Okay, y/n, no need to flex.' Yuna rotated her neck. 
‘I’m just saying,’ you took a sip of your drink, ‘I’m always willing to invest.’
‘And I love new projects.’ 
‘You, darling,’ Yuna addressed Lirrah, ‘would be a perfect female lead, for any character sketch,’ Yuna nodded, more to herself, ‘because you are just that good.’ Then she burped and held her boob.
‘What? Is it falling down?’ You asked in mock concern.
Your soulmate tsked. ‘This,’ she held up her right boob, ‘is powerful. I don’t need therapy when I hold them.’
‘But no, for real,’ Kae-Lee leaned forward, ‘they’re so comforting. And I just stick my hand up my shirt and hold onto them.’
You snorted. There was no way any of you would be entertaining this type of conversation so easily if you weren’t buzzed. Through a group text sure, but even then with close, understanding, sure friends. The only sure person you had was Yuna.
‘Don’t act like you don’t do it.’ Yuna accused you. 
‘I do. I just prefer doing it when I’m going to sleep.’
They gave you quizzical looks.
‘You know when you sleep on your side,’ they nodded, ‘depending on which side I’m on, the hand above me is usually closed over one of my boobs. It helps me sleep.’
Kae-Lee burst out laughing. ‘There is no way, your husband lets you do the holding.’
You smirked, unperturbed. ‘His hands are the best bra size.’ She blushed red at your blunt words and you shot her a wink for good measure.
‘I just reach down from my neckline.’ Ria’s upper lip curled, ‘while I’m doing paperwork or even going through a document.’
‘Is your office a closed space?’ Lirrah finally dropped her heels and crossed her legs.
‘Mmmh, it used to be full glass, like see through, but I’ve been with Y/n for a few years now, and she upgraded me to a more secluded space directly in front of her corner office. Great view and it’s bigger.’ Ria snorted. ‘Just not soundproof.’
Yuna inhaled. ‘Fucking tell me about it!’ She complained. ‘They go at it like rabbits.’
It took you a second to realize they were talking about you and Namjoon.
Lirrah hid her smile, but got in on the teasing. ‘What have you both been through?’ 
Yuna made a face. ‘I once walked in on them.’
‘Ohmygod!’ Kae-Lee let out a small squeal and hopped to fit herself between you and Lirrah. 
‘And I told her I was dropping by for a shirt she borrowed, and I have a spare key. I've always had a spare key, and she has one for my place.’ Yuna motioned with her hand. ‘Even before marriage and moving in and what not we gave each other that privilege. But I walk in and they're fucking going at it in the kitchen.’
You hold back your own laugh as you remember the encounter. Namjoon and you were away from each other for almost three weeks because he had an event in the States and you were on  a business trip. 
You would always conduct yourself in the manner required of you, but sex was an open topic. 
And you would never shy away from showing Namjoon off. 
You felt it then. The feeling was slowly coming back. The possessiveness of how deeply you considered him yours. 
‘I haven't eaten on that counter since.’
You rolled your eyes. 'I clean my house.'
‘Not gonna lie you seem like the bedroom type,’ Lirrah looked straight at you. ‘I never pegged you for a quickie type.’ 
For some reason her eyes danced with mirth, not judgment. She was genuinely teasing. 
‘Oh no,’ you scoffed, enjoying the carefree energy surrounding you, ‘we've done plenty of quickies.’
‘Where?’ Kae-Lee dropped both her palms on your thigh. ‘Tell!’
You laughed at her silliness, your hand covering her own on instinct. 
It was a habit. Maybe it was one of the underlying reasons why you were so in tune with Namjoon. Kae-Lee, Yoshi, Jungkook – your maternal/older sister instincts rose to the fore. Some irrational part of you considered them babies, that needed protecting and as much softness as you could allow yourself to give. You didn’t care that they were barely a few years younger than you.
‘Rkive?’ Ria queried, stretching her legs across the newly vacated spot next to her.
‘Yep.’ You popped the ‘p’. ‘And one of the boardrooms. Although that was pretty subtle, he was doing everything under the table.’ Now you knew you were tipsy, there was no need to go in detail and yet you hadn’t closed your mouth. ‘At home it's probably been everywhere.’ Your lips formed a pout, and murmured, ‘We have very sturdy furniture.’
A stream of flashbacks had you clenching your thighs. The kitchen counter, the doorway, the pool, his desk, the wall length mirror in your room… Fuck.
‘At a concert?’ Lirrah didn’t even bother hiding her excitement as she caught your eye by leaning around Kae-Lee's head. Yep. Lirrah definitely had another side to her.
Your tongue kissed your teeth.
‘No.’ Ria’s eyes danced.
‘Seriously?’ Lirrah’s eyes widened which was a mild reaction compared to Yuna, who shook with laughter. ‘Prim and proper,‘ she clutched her midsection, ‘Y/n and Namjoon, had a quickie at a concert. Dude! You called me the day after your first time together, while he was still sleeping, wondering if you were good enough to have sex with, freaking out about whether he would want to again and now you’re slumming it in stairways and dressing rooms.’
‘Fucker,’ you threw sushi at her, ‘don’t expose me!’
You weren’t actually mad… or embarrassed for that matter, it was a harrowing experience wanting to have sex with Namjoon and wondering if you would be good enough in bed for a man like him. Which woman didn’t want to satisfy their man. And you had little to no experience. 
He could hate your body, or how certain parts jiggled, or your stretch marks – you wanted him pussy whipped, but you had nothing to judge that by. You could have been average at best. It slowly got better though, and Namjoon, your boyfriend at the time, was very patient and stressed communication above everything else. He proceeded to fuck every single one of those insecurities out of you.  
After listening, he would assuage your fears. Stretch marks were imperfections but he ran his tongue over each one. He guided your hips along his thigh to help you chase your high, and he could watch in awe as you came apart above him. He was vocal and it took a few tries before you rode him exactly the way you both found mind-blowing, because he usually lost his cool during ‘practice’ and had you beneath him before you could even physically protest – there was no thought thereafter. 
You became bold. Sending him sexy pictures during schedules and tour, punishing him by touching yourself and making him watch only, foregoing panties more frequently. Your personal favorite was when you bought a very expensive crotchless black lingerie set with garters and you completed the look with a special pair of lace-up, thigh-high boots– the heel helping him learn something new about himself. Namjoon had a very specific kink. He wanted that heel on his chest or his back–but on account of him being an idol he couldn’t have marks on him and he didn’t want you to dominate, he just got off on the idea that you wanted to, so he could put you in your place for it. 
You were on a rampage that week. You hadn’t seen him, he barely texted and he hadn’t left the Rkive for three days aside for his schedule. When you got there, there were coffee cups all over the place and he looked like he had been running his fingers through his disheveled hair in frustration one too many times. Those were hard days When the calm leader no longer had it in him to be calm. 
But it was fun to watch him zero in on a very specific spot on your body when you dropped your coat, slowly walked up to him and placed one foot between his thighs, his hand instinctively lifting to curl around your calf, giving him a perfect view of what he was missing out on. You almost didn’t make it through the door of your house before he manhandled you into submission. Safe to say it was one of the best nights of your life and even if your lingerie was in pieces by the end of it and you were sore the next day, you got exactly what you wanted. He was fast asleep between your legs, his head tucked into your neck, his arms around you and you got a hearty breakfast for him the next morning.
Sex was fun. Sex with Namjoon, any place, any time, was everything and more.
‘Was Namjoon your first?’ Ria asked, surprise evident.
‘No,’ you shook your head, ‘my first was when I was nineteen, in college.’ You held back a shudder, ‘was an ass experience. And I didn’t prioritize sex or men until Namjoon came along.’
‘You’re living your best life.’ Lirrah said softly, a longing in her voice making you wince slightly. If I was, I wouldn’t be nursing a broken heart.
Nevertheless you kept a serene smile on your face.
To say you were surprised with Lirrah was an understatement. But that was your mistake for judging and your fault for forgetting that under every single strong, captivating mask, was a person. Lirrah was good and kind, both inside and out, but it didn’t have to stop there.
‘You would not believe how turned on those men are after a concert.’ You explained, ignoring Yuna’s side comment teasing. ‘They’re buzzing from the high.’
You turned your attention back to Kae-Lee to find her biting her lip, as if holding herself back. 
You scrunch your eyebrows. 'What's up, Bell?' 
She contemplated before asking. 'Do the rest of the guys… you know.'
Oh. Oh. 
They did. Jin and Jungkook especially. The oldest and youngest were the softest sweetest most endearing men you had ever come across – their sexual appetites seesawed on that exact extremity. Jimin and Taehyung, not for the past two or three years at least. Yoongi was… deadly. He had enough discipline and mental strength that he didn’t hold sex as a requirement in his life, but his sharp edge of control meant that he could slide right over – given the right time and the right person. And Hoseok, your lovely Hobi, when you first met him he had fun, he was very open about sex and kinks and didn’t shy away from women. That changed gradually. You happened. 
But none of these were stuff you could actually say. And more importantly, it wasn't your business to say anything. Your fuzzy brain would have to answer this carefully. 
Lirrah leaned forward too, waiting for your answer. 
'Not really.' You ran the backs of your fingers down her cheek, in comfort. 'Depends on which member you're asking about. They used to. But they're…' you thought about whether you were using the right word, but said to hell with it, 'Grown now. In a different way' Then you used choice words that would sway this whole conversation. 'I'm pretty sure they handle themselves.'
Kae-Lee's face turned as red as a tomato and Ria choked on her alcohol. Even Lirrah's ears were tipped red at the mental images you spawned with your words.
You smirked. 'Not like that.' 
'Wow.’ Kae-Lee blew out a breath. ‘Is it hot in here?' 
Ria hummed, wiping her mouth. ‘Could be the alcohol.’
‘Or a very sexy idol.’ Yuna mock whispered, leaning over to grab her drink.
'I feel like I've missed so much.' Kae-Lee said after a stretch of silence. 'Everyone is so different,' she sat forward and placed her elbows on her knees, a solemn expression on her face, 'but also the same.' She snorted. 'Sorry, I'm talking nonsense.'
‘We’ve missed you too, Bell.’ Yuna sulked.
You had to agree. Kae-Lee’s presence revolved around you and your security team before she left.  
‘Why ‘Bell’?’ Lirrah queried. ‘Middle name?’
‘When you get a chance to meet Yoshi, you should ask him.’ Yuna winked.
Lirrah squinted, and absently pointed to the door. ‘So you guys were together?’
Kae-Lee blinked. And burst into a fit of giggles. ‘God, no. Me and Yoshi,’ she made a face, ‘No. He’s my best friend.’ 
Yeah, and Yoshi was just a very mild-mannered, conscientious bodyguard. 
You would never involve yourself, but you could sense the slow simmer between Yoshi and Kae-Lee that they chalked up to friendship. Kae-Lee was completely and utterly taken with Taehyung and Taehyung, well, he was either clueless like the rest of the male species or playing dumb. And Yoshi, was Yoshi, work and life and so many good things to live for, he didn't even realize he was probably in love with her. 
Lirrah nodded in understanding, but you could see she was slightly embarrassed with the way Kae-Lee answered her.
‘Somehow everyone just ran in the same circles at some point,’ you pointed out. ‘Like you and Yuna.Yoshi basically came into my team around the same time I got married. And I knew Kae-Lee a year or two before that.’
‘They gelled and ever since they’ve been inseparable,’ Ria added.
Lirrah smiled. ‘It’s great to have someone like that. They're basically your person.’
‘Yeah,’ you met Yuna’s eye and for a moment you were reminded how tender your heart was where Yuna was concerned. You could lose a lot in life, a job, a love, a parent, a dream, a purpose, but a best friend who transcended the very label into a connection light years beyond common comparison… She was too important.
‘Alright, Kae-Lee,’ Yuna dropped to the floor and pulled Kae-Lee down with her. ‘What is really going on? Why did you postpone your trip back?’ Yuna tapped her knee to keep her at attention and bent her head slightly. ‘Is someone bothering you?’
‘Is there a co-worker or some low life of the male species that we need to fuck up?’ You asked, swirling your whiskey in your glass like some sort of villain.
‘Please, the whole species is fucked,’ Ria quipped as she sat at attention as well. ‘But for real? Any authority figure making you miserable that you want us to take to court?’
‘Jia knows hitmen.’ Yuna added. ‘We can make it look clean.’
Lirrah dropped a foot to the floor, her hand resting on the knee still on the couch. ‘I would think you’re all trying in your own way to make her feel better by joking, but something tells me you’re all crazy enough to actually do those.’
‘Damn straight.’ Ria knocked back her glass and slammed it on the table.
You searched Lirrah’s face. She was… relaxed. Feeling very much involved after being almost too aloof most of the night. You had sorely misjudged her. ‘We take care of our own.’ You leaned toward her and placed your hand over hers. You were silently extending your hand in friendship. By her sad grateful smile, you could tell she had accepted.
‘It’s not a guy or work or… anything really.’ Kae-Lee looked at her hands in her lap. ‘I’m just, It’s just…I… ‘
No one said anything as Yuna rubbed her back.
Kae-Lee took a deep breath and mumbled something.
‘What’s that?’ 
Kae-Lee looked straight into Yuna’s eyes, tears welling up, on her own. ‘I’m not happy!’
‘I am young and single and talented. I have friends and family and people that love me. I have one of the greatest companies in my resume and so many opportunities lined up, but… I go home and I sit on my bed and I just want to cry.’ Her tears had spilled over by this point and Yuna’s arm curled around her waist. ‘I don’t even know what’s wrong, I just feel so suffocated and it hurts,’ she points to her chest, ‘and I’m always at work so I don’t have to go home and feel so alone.’
She laughed mirthlessly. ‘And you know what’s the worst part,’ she turned her face up to you, ‘I feel so ungrateful. Because so many have it worse and I have everything and shelter and food and money and I just…I feel so…Ugh!’ She swung her arms and broke away from Yuna. ‘I’m just so fucking alone in a crowded room. And I know you’re all there for me but I have to talk and I don’t know what to say but I’m looked at like I’m completely fine when everything is falling apart. And there’s so many people that need therapy and I’m out here feeling sad and depressed,’ she spat the word, ‘and I have to think how that warrants any attention because I’m just a whiney bitch but I can’t change that feeling and its so heavy and fuck!’
You curled your arm around her head from the back and pulled her body to rest against your knees. ‘Shh, Bell.’ You dropped your chin against her forehead when she leaned further into you.
‘Hey,’ Yuna grabbed her chin. ‘You are not ungrateful.’ 
‘Just because you have it all,’ Ria didn’t look up as she spoke, ‘doesn’t mean you have to be happy.’
‘It’s true.’ You heard Lirrah say. ‘Having it all is great. Secure even. But happiness is independent of that.’
‘A pool and the ocean are the same threat to someone who's afraid of the water, sweetheart,’ Yuna let go of her chin and tilted her head to the side. ‘So don’t ever sideline your feelings. They’re yours.’ She looked down and bit her lip. ‘And I’m gonna sound like a real bitch, but you have to get through this Kae-Lee. You have to get a hold of those feelings.’
‘Just not a chokehold.’ Ria added. Ria would know. Ria was an expert at it. 
‘What they’re saying is that some of your best days can be taken from you, if your emotions control everything.’ Lirrah got down to her knees in front of Kae-Lee. ‘If we’re too lazy we don’t workout. If we fall head over heels in love, which is never a bad thing, we shouldn’t forget we have friends. If we let our comfort level dictate our limitations, we wouldn’t open ourselves to learning new things and taking new opportunities.’
You thought about what to tell her. The generic ‘I’m there for you’ was a piece of shit statement that held nothing and helped none. The fight was an everyday thing. And it did get better, but one had to be open to that hope and get perspective back. Kae-Lee was clearly strong, putting up a front, acting the part of a young successful woman who was actually falling apart inside. But she had to stay strong. Leaning on anyone else, talking and even crying was a temporary relief. She needed to switch gears. But she couldn’t be told that. It didn’t do well to make anyone’s pain feel irrelevant. It reminded you too much of yourself.
‘There are some great days, Bell.’ You whispered in her hair. ’Bad days, good days, but the good thing is that some of your best haven’t happened yet.’
‘We are proud of you, you know. We are already proud.’ Ria pursed her lips and got to the heart of the matter. ‘So if you want to come home, visit your parents, or just get a breath of the familiar air, we would be by your side.’
‘You seem like someone worth getting to know and maybe enjoying life beside.’ Lirrah’s lips twitched.
The crying had stopped and Yuna grabbed her hand bag to wipe off the smudged make up from Kae-Lee’s face.
‘I guess, I might consider coming home.’ Kae-Lee said after a long moment of silence. You stretched your legs and she placed her head on your knee.
It would be pertinent to ask about her contract and about her other projects, but work was a blurry line that you very rarely crossed, unless it was Yuna. Kae-Lee was smart. If she wanted to come home, she would reach out if she needed help, or she would make it happen.
Not dragging out her emotional state, Yuna branched out the conversation. ‘It’s an annoying feeling, to want to fly and actually fly, then realize you were meant for home.’ She spoke a lot of herself. Yuna had loads of opportunities to travel but she always missed home the most.
‘It’s also an uncomfortable feeling to be at home and feel like you belong somewhere, anywhere else.’ You sighed.
‘The good thing is that you get to make the choice, whenever.’ Ria looked at Kae-Lee. ‘Change your mind and change it again and drive everyone insane, but chase whatever you feel as much as you keep it in check.’
‘Emotions expert.’ You berated Ria who pinched you. You thought about it as you rubbed your arm. Ria was locked up tighter than a safe. It took a long time for her to act this normal around you. But that obviously hadn’t hindered her emotional intelligence.
‘You’re an artist.’ Lirrah stated the obvious. ‘Take advantage of that. Try new things, make new connections with new concepts and be as weird and quirky as you need to be.’
Kae-Lee smiled up at her. ‘You’re more human than I expected you to be.’
Yuna snorted, which was the catalyst for the rest of their laughter. Even Lirah joined in.
Kae-Lee definitely had a lot more on her mind. But sometimes words weren't enough, and sometimes no matter how many people you had for you, you had to be there for yourself. She would learn and she would be okay. 
She actually handled it way better than you did when you first had those kinda feelings. 
Looking down at Kae-Lee you got an idea. You picked off your earpiece and handed it to her. ‘Here.’ You wiped off the top with a tissue, and handed it over. ‘Go worry Yoshi for a bit.’
She took the comm set from your hand and looked up at you. ‘He’s working.’
‘He can take a break.’ You motioned toward the door.
Her features turned soft and childlike, ‘I'm gonna take a peek.’ She woke up off the floor, dusted herself off and put her shoes back on.
‘Should she be distracting them?’ Lirrah watched Kae-Lee walk to the door.
'They don't get distracted by her.’ Ria clarified, leaning back on the couch. 
You mirrored the movement, suddenly feeling a bit of relief. A good cry, a solid foundation of support, a reminder that even if you thought yourself alone, you actually weren’t, those were some of the most underrated things in the world.
‘How long have they been with you?’
You turned your head to face Lirrah. ‘Well, Kenta started with my dad. He was with me for…’ you closed your eyes and backtracked, ‘three years before my dad had to retire and a couple months after I took over I made him head of security and he started his own team.’
‘Yeon was already around.’ Yuna stood up. ‘He did his own thing, took the odd contract.’ Yuna met your eye, knowing exactly the extremities of those contracts involved. ‘And Kenta somehow convinced him to meet y/n and stick around.’ 
‘Zwahn was on a long term contract that was terminated and needed a bit of a break, Sylo and Ken agreed he could have the break with me.’  
‘Kiri was added a little after Zwahn and Yoshi came in a year later.’ 
You smile at Ria as she speaks of him. Yoshi looked up to Ria in a way, because he wanted to have this whole cold granite like exterior. Ria had that down perfectly. But Yoshi was so soft. He enjoyed communicating and learning about people's goals and feelings and he liked hugs and motivating others… Yoshi was a teddy bear… that knew how to assemble a sniper rifle and make use of it too. 
‘Yoshi is different.’ Yuna put her shoes on her feet and Ria did the same. ‘I mean he's best friends with Tinkerbell over there.’ She motioned to the doorway. 
‘But if he's so different, how is it that Kenta takes to him so well?’
‘Because Yoshi gets the job done,’ Ria shrugged, ‘just differently. It's a weird combination.’ 
‘Like Y/n and Yuna.’ 
Ria fist bumped Lirrah for her remark. ‘I knew I liked you.’
You arched an eyebrow at the idol. She met your gaze head on. ‘You're both strong and bold and brawn, but where you would hold back and keep the peace, Yuna would pour out her acetone and set the world on fire.’ 
‘Fair,’ Yuna nodded her head and hit her chest with her first at a burp.
‘What about the youngest, the one that looks like a frat boy?’ 
‘Ohmygodddd,’ you groaned in exasperation. ‘Xan is a baby and he can be annoying sometimes.’ Needs to be whacked on the head. ‘But he's got raw skills.’ 
‘Speaking off skills,’ Yuna walked past you, ‘I've held my pee in long enough, so I am going to offload.’ She called over her shoulder. ‘Ria’s coming with me.’
You gasped. ‘No.’ You gave her back a dead stare, putting as much shock as you could behind your words. ‘You guys linking hands and standing up together, to leave. We never would have thought.’
You blew her a kiss when her middle finger came up and she closed the door behind her.
Now it was just you and the idol. 
It didn’t feel as daunting as you would have thought. Sometimes people could only get along by association, like Jia would feel out of place without Yuna around and you used to feel weird with the band without Namjoon around.
You reached over for food, needing something with your mouth before the silence became awkward.
'How do you do it, y/n?' 
You paused mid bite, mouth wide open, as you realized she was addressing you. 'Huh?' 
She brought both her knees up and curled her arm around them. 'How do you manage it all? Your company, your husband, the industry and the spotlight. And yet you’re not afraid to fuck up.'
You shoved the whole sushi in your mouth and turned to face her fully, one leg tucked under the other. 'You think I'm not afraid to fuck-up?' 
She swallowed hard and nodded, a sombre expression on her face. 
'I am terrified of fucking up.' You admitted. 'All the time.' 
Lirrah looked like a little girl in a big world at that moment. Her chin on her knees, open and honest eyes, she was keeping herself together so she wouldn't fall apart. That's what hit home. 
'I tried to be perfect at first. At work. And as Namjoon's wife.' And you really really did try. 'But shit happens. And the whole ruse got harder and harder to keep up.' You shrugged. 'I mean it's still a ruse, I still keep a lot private, and I have a mask up, but Namjoon and I have no template to work with you know. And it's been touch and go the whole time.'
'I don't know how to find that balance.'
'Are you kidding? You're so loved. No one would hate anything you do.' 
She scoffed and looked away. 'That's the issue. Everyone is always watching me, always expecting me to be 'the darling'. And I'm just not.'
'That's not true.' You took a moment to weigh your words. 'You are a talented singer, a genius lyricist, a humble actress and above all things a philanthropist.' You poked your cheek with your tongue, refusing to let the woman in front of you bring herself down. 'You love singing. I can tell. I'm surrounded by vocalists that feel the emotion in their songs and bring it forward. You take care of yourself, work hard, learn all your lines and you actually care.' You licked your lips. 'I understand that we can get too into a certain part of our lives.' The days you slept in your office came to the fore. 'And once I would have been embarrassed to admit it, but I know love changed me. I could say it completed me as well. But that's because I found a whole new family with that love. You don't need to find an actual person to love Lirrah. But you do need to live a little more.' You implored her. 'I can't say you should throw a stack of papers at a reporter or stomp on their camera with your heel, or even grab a girl by her hair in a crowded club –,' 
She smiled. She'd probably read the article Heeyoung published about you the night some newly debuted shrew decided Namjoon should have' better'. You were drunk. You were possessive to the core. And you did not let it go. The boys somehow got your hands off her, and Namjoon all but dragged you by your waist when she wanted to retaliate. 
' -- but you should let yourself be human. You are human. That means you can cry and scream and yell and make mistakes and change your mind… You should date and visit places and, I don't know, get drunk, or take a day off.' 
You could tell her to skinny dip and get laid, but she seemed like a reserved type. 
'I don't think people will take too kindly to that,' she whispered. 
You made a frog face. 'People matter but people don't matter.'
She blinked and you could see when she understood. 
'Can I keep the mask on and still explore myself?' 
You smirked and motioned to yourself. 'You think I swear and act so carefree to the world.' Then tilted your head, contemplating. ‘You already are though. Doing the mask thing, I mean.’
She studied you, then dropped her head in a huff. 'Yeah. But you’re a different person here, and a different person out there. I’m somehow a different person in here,’ she pointed at her head, ‘and outside I’m the person everyone sees. It's hard to live a double life.'
You understood way more than you would allow yourself to show. 'It's harder to live one life with a leash around your neck.'
Her eyes flashed. 'It's not that bad.'
Good. You could respect a little fire. Wilting flowers were for behind closed doors. 'You also wouldn't ask if it was so great.'
You were not being bitchy. Not at all. You had your own leash, a very pretty diamond-studded metaphorical collar that your familial expectations tightened around your neck when you tried to step out of line. You pried it off your neck with methodical planning and cold rage and for that freedom you fought so hard for, you would kick, scream and never let it go. You were a different person now. 
Just then the door opened, and in came the rest of your party. 
'What have we missed?' Ria asked as she sat down again. 
'Lirrah and I are friends now.' You answered smoothly as you stood up. You needed something hard. The VIP Room had a plethora of options for alcohol, the issue was that most of those pink bottles were wines and champagnes and God knows what other sweet stuff you couldn't stand. 
You loved being there for friends and you found it easy to give advice, but it took a toll on you. 
‘Need company?’ Yuna inquired. 
You shook your head. 'I'll be back.' You slipped on your heels and walked out. 
The bass of the music was kept out of the VIP Room and for good reason, because as soon as you opened the door you were hit with a wave of thick energy. 
The throng of people dancing, the unusually mixed scent of alcohol, perfume and unfortunately sweat and the high of the beat booming through the club raced through your blood. The smooth EDM remix of In My Mind pulsed through the crowd as they swayed to the beat and bounced when it dropped. 
Clubs weren't for everyone. And personally your ideal night was being wrapped in a blanket with a book or with your family, with a hot chocolate on the horizon. But partying hard, had its own allure. 
Yoshi tipped his head at you, so subtle, so anxious about his future – he needn't worry. 
You made your way through the sea of bodies to the bar. Kiri was occupied so you signaled the bartender that had visited your Room with drinks earlier. She had set up the bar so you could help yourselves. Bree had designated someone else, but for some reason she hadn't come in. The current one had her back to you. 
'Hi,' you stood at the edge of the bar and spoke when she inclined her head in your direction, 'Can I get a bottle of whiskey please?' 
'Another?' She asked without looking up. 'That's your third tonight.' 
You giggled at her remark. Your friends knew how to drink. You knew how to drink. 
'Don't want to take it easy maybe?' 
Well, this waitress was… curious. Your eyes narrowed into slits, but you kept your smile plastered on your face. 'Nah, I need the hard stuff.'
She finally turned around to face you. 'This hard enough for you?'
It took you a moment to understand the situation. 
Firstly, the waitress had a dark sense of humor, because there was a gun digging into your side. 
Second, the wig and the heavy make-up did its job, initially, but now you could see her clear as day – she wasn't a waitress, she was a low-grade average bitch, she acted well and took strategic risks, she had been a fucking thorn in your life for weeks. Staring back at you was Maiya fucking Song. 
Third, Your team was occupied. Your comms weren't on you and they weren't even aware of the situation. 
Yoshi couldn't see the gun from his angle, heck the guy next to you at the bar couldn't see the fucking gun because you stepped too far in on the wrong side. 
Kiri was still busy with another guy, her face set in a harsh line, and Xan was right next to him, looking like a bull waiting to see red. Fuck.
You wanted to go over there, but you had to trust your team, and oh, yes, one other thing, you had a fucking gun trained on you. Yeon wasn't at his spot, maybe he was doing bouncer-like things. And Zwahn was already making his way from the entrance, but not toward you, he was heading straight for Xan. 
Lastly, you channelled Namjoon, because he was the calm, collected, genius one with all the solutions. Using the same rationality, breathing hard, trying not to freeze, bit the inside of your lip so as not to burst into tears because your girls were in a room not so far away and there were innocent bystanders around you, you tried not to show weakness, you tried to not tremble, you tried not to fucking panic, but as you did all that, as you searched for the many ways you could attempt to get out of this, you came to an absolute conclusion -- you were totally and completely fucked. 
Taglist - @casnextdoor @jaysdimples @belliebelle @pinkcherrybombs @sweetjellyfishland @blushingatyou @jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue @somewhereinthestarss @k-brownsugar @namsona17 @taejinxkoya @notsooperfect @zae007live @its-hopes-world @shina913 @bri-mal @piecesofapril11 @kissme-ornot @toriluvsfics @agustdmwah @lochness-butmakeitsexy @petalsofink @definetlythinkimanalien @masterpiecejoonie @gcintia @danietoww04 @roguesthetic @rjsmochii @amymikaelson @hello-kittyy @mschievous247 @onlythehobi @deliciousdetectivestranger @daddypkj @callmemadhatter @rkivecenter @codeinebelle @creolesoul2seoul @nochelunaxx [open till the end of Update 25]
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Part 25.0 - Dissidence
Part 25.1 - Wildflower
Part 25.2 - coming soon
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btsqualityy · a day ago
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Mama Kim Seokjin’s Social Media
Ignore dates and times
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parkdatjimin · 3 months ago
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-> Three years after dumping your toxic boyfriend, you decide it's finally time to try the dating scene again. What you don't expect is for a handsome and confident CEO to come to your rescue after being stood up.
"Just play along. My name is Yoongi and whoever stood you up is a douche.".
Pairings: CEO!yoongi x fem!reader
Genre: HEAVY angst, smut, lil fluff, slice of life, mutual pining, non-idol!au
Warnings: abusive themes/it’s mentioned that reader’s previous s/o was physically harmful and that reader saw a therapist afterwards, panic attack, reader has low self-esteem and some developed trust issues, multiple talks of sexual strife in relationships, sexual themes, blatant infidelity, explicit sexual content, grinding, marking/biting, soft sex, Yoongi and reader are both sweethearts in and out of bed, crying mid sex, cock riding, oral (f), squirting, praise kink? (really more like emotional affirmation), it's actually pretty vanilla, swearing;
Wc: 26.7K (rip mobile users)
a/n: based on this request by the lovely and inspiring @bangtanficsforyou this is the fic you didn’t ask for but I made it anyway <3 thank you to everyone who supported me and waited patiently while I wrote this, I hope it receives a lot of love <3 feedback is more than appreciated-- I've never written anything like this before so 👉👈
Taglist: @staerryminimini @unicornbabylover @kookieswan @sugarflywme @mwitsmejk @dvalitaes @still-with-koo @kookiecrumb @jeonsjiddies @hobipost @itsallabouthedetails @marilo11 @juju-227592 @notsooperfect @jinhitwhore @301925rkive @sugainmybowl @ashes69 @seokjennieee @englishrosetraveling @fairytaeel @knjkitten @apolloxxivmin @silentkei @raplinesmoon​ @belliebell @mrsparknamjoon @chimchimmarie @jiminandhislostjams​ @lilacboba​
You haven’t taken your eyes off the blanket of frost on the window separating you from the view of the city outside since the last time the waiter approached your table for two. The empty seat across from you only proves to create an unbearable tension between the two of you every time he visits to refill your free glass of water.
Strangers. But anyone can recognize a stand-up when they see one.
God, this is embarrassing. Your first blind date in 3 years and he doesn’t even show.
“Just…ten more minutes?” You ask hopefully when the waiter looks at your menu, unopened and sitting next to your empty basket of free breadsticks.
It’s been close to an hour at this point. He’s not coming. Why are you still sitting here with tears ready to spill? If you’re lucky the tears will fill your water glass so your impatient waiter doesn’t have to bring over that stupid pitcher that always pours too much ice again. Or maybe you’ll finally get the courage to walk out with your head held at least at chin level and retain an ounce of dignity after being stood-up so blatantly.
Three years ago, when your last relationship ended, nothing could get you out of your apartment. Well, technically it was your friend’s apartment. You couldn’t very well stay in your ex-boyfriend’s studio after dumping him, could you? You’re not that heartless.
Your best friend was extremely supportive of your decision to break up. She had been trying to convince you to end your relationship ever since she discovered bruises on your thighs during an impromptu sleepover. No matter how loudly you insisted it was nothing, no matter how thick your leggings, it couldn’t be hidden. Your relationship was toxic. It was only a matter of time before it began to show.
It wasn’t easy to convince you to go on a blind date. She had to practically corner you just to get you to consider it. It was actually your therapist who suggested going. A harmless dinner at a nice restaurant just to talk and start to get comfortable being semi-alone in a man’s presence again didn’t sound too scary. It wasn’t going to go anywhere anyway, and if you needed to, you could ditch at any moment and come home, your best friend assured you.
Being stood-up hadn’t even crossed your mind as you were too focused on what you would even say to the guy. You’re embarrassed to admit your most recent Google search history: “how to hold a conversation on a blind date without having a mental breakdown and scaring them away within the first 3 minutes?”
It was a valid search. Unfortunate results though.
In the frosty reflection of the window, you can see your waiter quietly discussing among who must be his managers while frequently glancing at you. He breaks away from their huddle and makes his way towards your table.
You know what he’ll say: “Ma'am, I’m sorry but we’re going to have to ask you to either order or give up your table for the next reservation.”
It’s too late to snatch your purse and leave, but you swear, if that waiter dares open his mouth, you’ll cry and you won’t stop.
He’s almost to the table when the most extraordinary thing happens.
“So sorry I’m late. Traffic was crazy! You would not believe the slowpoke I got stuck behind.”
Wide eyes are all you can manage when a total stranger suddenly sits down across from you and smiles. The waiter has halted a few steps from your table, truly slack-jawed.
Your expression obviously reflects the panic that’s developing inside your chest, because in the next moment this stranger is leaning in closer and whispering behind his hand, “Just play along. My name’s Yoongi and whoever stood you up is a douche.”
One thing is clear now. This is not the man you were supposed to meet tonight.
You’re not entirely sure what to say. It’s definitely odd to see someone sitting in the chair you’ve been staring at as empty for the last hour. He doesn’t hold himself like he’s thought this through, so he must be spontaneous on the daily if he’s interrupting blinds dates without so much as a blink.
Well, if you think about it, he’s not interrupting anything really.
“Did you order our regular?” he asks with a flat smile.
You end up blushing when he man-spreads under the table, his thighs welcomingly defined in his ripped up jeans. His sweater is old, ragged and clearly off brand. He definitely doesn’t look like he belongs but he’s….admittedly cute.
“Umm–”
Laughter like bubbles fills the awkward silence before he waves a careless hand in the air. “That’s okay! I’ll order now and tell them to work double time for an extra tip. I really am so sorry for making you wait on me like that. How about I buy us your favorite dessert to share? Will you forgive me then?”
Before you can respond, Yoongi snaps his fingers and the waiter rushes to the table. The boy doesn’t seem all that younger than Yoongi or yourself. Actually, he looks like he could be about your age. You wonder why he’s running around like a dog when his obvious good looks could do most certainly something for him.
He straightens his apron and drops into a ninety degree bow. “Mr. Min, I had no idea you were going to be joining us tonight.”
Mr. Min? Wait, they know him here?!
Yoongi reclines in his chair with crossed arms and a raised brow. "Even so, you should be sensitive to every guest. You weren’t about to ask this young lady to leave, now were you?”
The waiter answers with a swift, “No, Sir! I was just going to offer her tonight’s special…"
Yoongi doesn’t blink.
“…on the house?” the waiter adds hopefully.
With a smirk and a wave of his hand, Yoongi finally allows the boy to relax. “Ah, I see. Well, just bring us two of the usuals and some red wine–ah!” He looks at you, “Would you like white instead?”
Your answer is a lowered head and hidden eyes.
Yoongi studies your timid posture for a moment and then gives a knowing smile. “Champaign then,” he tells the waiter. “That should be a good place to start.”
The waiter bows and quickly leaves to tell the kitchen.
“Hey,” Yoongi calls to the boy who whips around in attention, "you’re doing fine, Jungkook. Don’t listen to everything those older guys tell you. You’ve got yourself an extra tip tonight.”
The boy called Jungkook smiles and says a quick “thank you” before escaping through the kitchen door, a wide grin on his face showing off his pretty front teeth.
“Sorry about that. I hope you like parmesan chicken. I know it’s not fancy, but it’s honestly one of the best dishes here–oh! Do you have any allergies? I can tell them to make something else.“
You have to answer him quickly because he’s already lifting his hand to call some other waitress over. "It’s fine, but…do you own this restaurant or something?”
“Well, sorta. My best friend Jin and I co-own it, but this is really his dream. To own his own restaurant, I mean. But it was going to be too expensive without a partner and he wanted help getting started and he’s got a real talent in the kitchen, so it’s not fair if–I’m sorry, I’m rambling, aren’t I?”
Actually, you find his talkative personality endearing, especially when his eyes start unconsciously bouncing around the room, like he’s reading the walls and every so often, your eyes. It’s definitely a different feeling than the one you’re used to. People shine when they talk about things important to them, but you haven’t seen that shine in so long. Yoongi is…pretty.
“I don’t mind.”
He runs a hand through his dyed, dirty hair and sits back again, his shoulders sinking as he relaxes. Your waiter Jungkook brings the bottle of champagne and pours you each a glass. Yoongi allows the stem of the glass to pass between his fingers, lifting the rim to his lips and taking a sip.
“So,” he swallows, showing off another flat smile (they’re quickly becoming a trade mark for him), “sorry about the whole random stranger stealing the spotlight thing. I saw you sitting alone and figured you were waiting for someone. But when no one showed up, I thought it was because either you enjoy sitting alone in restaurants staring out frosty windows–which I don’t condemn at all by the way–or there’s a really stupid someone who gave up their chance to have dinner with a beautiful girl.”
You shrug, nodding after a moment of processing all of his charms. “The second one.”
He shakes his head and frowns. “Whoever stood you up is the dumbest person alive.”
You find some kind of comfort in his words, even if you don’t completely believe them.
“Well…thank you.”
You haven’t ruled out the possibility that this Yoongi guy is one of those predators who preys on vulnerable girls who have been stood up on dates, just waiting to swoop in and take the prize. The thought gives you pause. Are there signs to look for?
You start to remember the time your best friend came back from the club rambling about some guy who bought her like three drinks and then got mad when she wouldn’t sleep with him. He kept saying she owed him because he paid for her, but thankfully your best friend is sane enough to know a play when she sees one. Still, hearing about it and actually being in the moment are two different feelings.
You’re in the middle of deciding whether or not you’ll eat when the food is brought when–
“I just realized something!” Yoongi suddenly remarks as if he left cookies in the oven. “I don’t know your name!”
“Oh…” you sigh, more relieved than you’d ever admit. “It’s ___.”
“___?” he repeats sourly. “What kind of a name is that?”
You blink, unsure of how to answer. "The name my parents gave me.”
“We’re gonna have to think of a better name for you. A cuter name. You’re too cute for a name like ___.”
You mean to say something, honest you do, but nothing comes out but a stutter and some random mumbled syllables. Should you be flattered or offended?
Yoongi obviously notices, because he smirks at your bouncing gaze. "Just give me a few minutes, I’ll think of something perfect.”
The stare in his eyes and his words provide you with hope that you won’t be parting ways for forever after this dinner. For some reason, you’re finding it easier to be in this man’s presence the more he speaks, which is not normally the case with strangers. His voice is a lot softer than most guys you meet, and his features are softer like a woman’s. But when you take into consideration his chest, arms, and hands, there’s no doubt he’s fully and lethally a man.
You find yourself looking out for his signature flat smile and bread cheeks though. They make you feel comfortable.
Three waiters come out carrying silver trays with large dome lids and a roll out table with various choices of soup, bread, salad, kimchi, fruit and just about everything. Two plates of parmesan chicken are placed on the table in front of you, the covers on each dish lifted in such a manner you would think the waiters were presenting gold or something.
“Wow…” you breathe in total extravagance. This meal is like one meant for a king. Or a CEO. The waiters leave the rolling table beside you while the two of you eat, so you can have your pick of side dishes and whatnot.
You’re hesitant to eat but when Yoongi lifts his head from taking his first bite and asks “what’s wrong”, you instantly begin stuffing parmesan chicken past your lips with a small hum of deliciousness.
“So, if I can ask…” he says after a moment of enjoying the meal, “who stood you up?”
You almost choke but manage to hold yourself together. “A blind date. Nothing important.”
“Really? Oh.”
“Oh?”
Yoongi plays with his food. The action makes him seem childish but it also sooths you. He sets the atmosphere to be so chill and it eases your anxiety. “Just not what I was expecting.”
“What do you mean?”
He shrugs and takes a large bite of food. When he gets done chewing, he sees you’re still waiting for an answer.
“Just…you looked properly upset, so I figured it was someone who means a lot to you like a boyfriend or girlfriend.”
“I don’t have a boyfriend.”
The man across from you nods and goes back to take another monster-truck-size bite of food. Odd, you were expecting a larger reaction, but okay.
This time you decide to ask a question, “Were you also waiting for someone or…?” because the last thing you want to do is steal someone as nice as Yoongi away from their predetermined plans just because you got stood up by (as he so graciously dubbed them) a douche.
He perks up. “My girlfriend called me right before I saw you and told me she’s working late tonight. I already got all dressed up and I didn’t want it to be for nothing. And then I saw you sitting all alone with what looked like tears in your eyes. You sat alone for a long time, and I just…felt like you needed someone to talk to.”
The word ‘girlfriend’ hits you like a dump truck and makes you want to cry unbeknownst the reason, but you still feel the necessity to be polite. The last half of his story was obviously meant to flatter you, even if the first half makes you ungodly uncomfortable knowing this man is in a relationship with another woman.
“This is dressed up?”
“Don’t I look nice?”
“Very nice.”
Actually, Yoongi knows how run down and sloppy his appearance is, but he also genuinely believes you think he looks nice. And that makes him feel nice.
The two of you share a smile. Not the first. Hopefully not the last.
“I know I didn’t officially ask you, but would you like to have dinner with me, ___?”
Shyly, you lift your wine glass to take a sip. “I thought you didn’t like my name.”
“I never said I didn’t like it. I said it wasn’t cute enough for you,” Yoongi corrects, clinking your glasses. “But the more I say it, the cuter it gets.”
::
It was about half an hour after you finished dinner and you were half-way through devouring a truly sinful dessert called Triple Chocolate Kill Cake. And boy, oh boy, it is sinful. You love it. 
Yoongi smiles, watching as you enjoy his favorite delicacy at his best friend's restaurant. 
"Happy?" 
Placing your fork delicately on your plate, careful not to make a sound, you swallow politely and nod. "Thank you." 
"You got some. Right there--" Yoongi gestures to the right corner of his mouth. 
It's hard in these cases to know if the adjacent person is talking about their right or your right. In the movies, the girl always cleans the wrong corner and then the guy is forced to touch her lip with his thumb...you know this because of your extensive adolescent history building unrealistic expectations of what boyfriends should be. So, just to be on the safe side, you wipe your entire mouth thoroughly. 
Yoongi smirks as if he can sense the inner workings of your reason. "You got it, good job." 
Placing the napkin back on your lap, you muster up the courage to initiate conversation further, "So if the restaurant isn't your dream, what is?" 
"I'm the CEO of Min Industries." 
"Is that your dream?" 
Yoongi blinks at you, a tilted head and frowning lips. "You know, every time I tell someone I own a modeling agency, they just assume that it's my dream. I mean, who wouldn't want to work with models all day, right?" 
"I would imagine lots of people," you say plainly. 
"Yeah, I guess so," Yoongi gazes at you, the corners of his smile slowly turning up again. You tell yourself it's not because of you, but the way he's watching you right now makes your lungs clench inside your chest. "Well, we're always looking for new talent, so if you know anyone who'd be interested let me know." 
"I'll keep a lookout." 
"Or, you know, if you were interested in--" He jumps when his phone vibrates in his pocket. "Good grief, who is it now? Sorry, one sec..." 
Pulling out his phone, you notice his annoyed expression shift when he sees the caller ID. 
"Hey, beautiful, what's up?" 
The other voice is muffled but you can clearly make out one thing. It's definitely female. 
"No, I just...I went to the...yes, I'm being careful...well, I just ate without you because you said work...ah, okay...I'll be back soon then...yeah...love you, bye." 
The call ends. 
You could ask who it was, but that doesn't seem necessary as it's kind of obvious. Anyway, you'd rather not remind Yoongi he's having dinner with an awkward stranger instead of his lovely girlfriend like he originally planned. 
The man, who doesn't seem so much like a stranger anymore, sighs and leans back in his chair before snapping his fingers. 
Jungkook comes quickly. "May I help you, Sir?" 
"Put the bill on my tab and let this young lady order whatever else she wishes. It's on me. I'm headed home for the night." Then he looks back at you with a charming smile. "I'm sorry for leaving so suddenly like this. But you know, when the girlfriend calls..." he shrugs to finish the statement. 
You shake your head. "Please don't apologize! You've done so much for me already. I should be thanking you." 
"Such manners." He smiles gently. "I wish we had met sooner. I like talking with you." 
Then Yoongi winks and pulls out a small white, business card from his jean pocket. "Here's my number. Call me if you get stood up again, okay?" 
You are aware this guy has a girlfriend, and no, you should not be feeling anything because that would be very wrong in every way possible...but every time he smiles or winks or talks your entire body stiffens in a good way. Heated cheeks and a tight chest. He's so gentle and happy, and while it could all very well be a rouge, you desperately wish it's not. 
"Thank you." You take his card, immediately standing and bowing in respect. 
Yoongi chuckles at your actions and grips your shoulders to pick you back up. "Please, that's not nec--" 
Your entire body instinctively flinches, unnecessary panic flooding your eyes and a loud heartbeat indicating your steadily rising pulse. Without a moment to register what's happened, your arms fly around your waist, encircling you in a defensive and barricaded position. 
Yoongi just stares at you, with his hands hovering where you were once standing but now have taken several steps back. 
"Oh, umm sorry, I didn’t mean--" 
You try to laugh it off, but your voice comes out shaky and scared, "Sorry, I'm fine. Thank you for dinner. I should be leaving too." 
"___?" he tries to ask again, but you're already walking out with a lowered chin and trembling fingers clutching your purse and Yoongi's business card. 
You don't look back even though you want to. Because you know what you'll see. A very confused, very shocked, and very handsome stranger waiting for the universe to explain who you are and why you did what you just did. 
::
Yoongi tiptoes into the house and carefully places his keys and jacket by the door. Treading quietly through the living room, past the stairs, and into the back bedroom, not daring to make a sound lest he wake the possible sleeping beauty in his sheets. It's been a rough week (that's what his girlfriend was telling him two nights ago at least), so it wouldn't be odd to find her dreaming on his pillow. 
Sure enough. When he turns the brass knob and peaks inside, there she is. Fast asleep in his bed, one of her legs exposed above the sheets while the rest of her stays snuggled out of sight. She's funny like that, insisting the room be cool so she can suffocate herself inside the comforter. Yoongi isn't a big fan of the AC blowing on him in the middle of the night, but it's a small preference to ignore for the sake of her comfort. 
Yoongi fondly smiles and unbuttons his shirt, throwing it to the side along with his shoes and jeans. He climbs into the bed and scoots closer to her, hissing under his breath when he realizes she's wearing panties...and nothing else. He may never get used to his girlfriend's newly developed habit of sleeping practically naked. 
"Hey, baby," he whispers with a kiss to her temple. 
Her eyes slowly open to peek at the clock on the bedside table. "You're back early," she hums. 
"So are you. Welcome home." 
"I don't live here," she chuckles sleepily. "Every time you talk you make it seem like I moved in." 
"Then why don't you move in with me already?" Yoongi whines, lightly running his palm over the bare curve of her hip. 
"Because," she grumbles with a teasing smile, pulling his hand back up her side, "I have my own place and my own bed." 
"Then why don't you ever sleep in it?" Yoongi asks with a seductive nibble on her neck, not that he minds his girlfriend's odd attachment to his bedroom, but he meant that to be a serious inquiry. 
The girl bites her lip and snuggles closer. "Maybe I was frustrated." 
"Really?" Yoongi excitedly presses his warm hand against the small of her back to pull her hips closer to him. "I am too." 
"No," she scoffs, pushing him away. "Not that kind of frustrated. I mean tired frustrated." 
Yoongi frowns against her skin and nuzzles a few more kisses against the crook of her neck, dying to entice any kind of need within her. "Baby, please? Come on, I want you." 
"Not tonight," she whines and innocently curls into his chest, immediately beginning to build that all too familiar wall between them. "How was work?" 
Yoongi can feel the pressure building in his gut. Unfortunately, this isn't the first time he's gotten excited and then shamelessly shut down. It's a common, frustrating occurrence that's been repeating for a while now. At first, he thought it was just stress. The both of them were just too tired after long days of work to do anything once they got in bed together. But as the weeks went on and their workloads fluctuated, Yoongi realized there had to be a different reason. 
"Hard. We're running out of time to find the last model for the winter line. It's not like we haven't gotten plenty of options but," he sighs, rolling to his back to watch the ceiling, "None of those girls have the right vibe and I just can't bring myself to settle. I mean, this could be a huge opportunity for the company. If this season takes off, we could be on the same level as the top of the top in the industry and it's all riding on me to…babe?" 
The girl looks up at Yoongi with one half-opened eye from where she's hidden in his chest, disinterested when there's sleep to be had. 
"What?" 
"Are you listening?" 
“Yeah," she yawns, stretching her legs before returning to her fetal position against his side. "Work is hard, I get it. Just relax and pick someone." 
"You know what might make me feel more relaxed?" 
"What?" 
"An orgasm." 
"I told you I'm tired--" 
"You don't have to do anything," Yoongi insists, swiping a tongue over his dry lips. "Just let me eat you out or something." 
"How many times do I have to say no?"
He has to say something about this. He should say something, right? But instead, he allows the conversation to drift away from the issues knocking in his mind. 
"Actually...been wanting to talk to you about something." 
"What now?" 
"Our sex life. Or rather the lack of it." 
The girl just sighs and goes back to cuddling. "You know I've been overworking myself lately. Can't we talk about this tomorrow?" 
"But, you said that last time and now it's been close to four weeks since we last talked." Yoongi pulls away and props himself up on his arm, forcing his girlfriend to roll away. "I'd like to talk about it now." 
She throws an arm over her eyes and groans. "Fine. Talk. I'm listening." 
"It's just that, it's been over a month since we've been intimate, and I don't want to pressure you or anything, but it's starting to mess with me. I'm imagining things, flirting with random inanimate objects, and all I want to do at the end of the day is make you feel good and to release some of my own tension, but it just keeps building and building, and that's why I'm like, I'm frustrated because--" 
"Yoongi," she interrupts him with a hand on his thigh, "you know you don't need me to release tension. You can do that by yourself." 
"I know I can because I have been. Almost every day!" Yoongi admits, shifting in his spot to lean further towards his girlfriend's unconcerned position. "But I feel kind of wrong because I feel like I'm not satisfying you like I should be doing as your boyfriend. I don't want just the thought of you, I want you. I want what we had before we stopped having sex." 
The girl sighs and wraps her arms around Yoongi's strong frame, slowly rubbing the bare skin of his side with soft fingertips. "I know you're worried about our lack of intimacy, but really I'm okay with it. You don't need to worry about satisfying me. I like things the way they are." She scoots closer. "But, since you've made it very clear that you're frustrated, I'll make the extra effort for you. Just not tonight, okay. I'm tired." 
Yoongi dramatically sighs before pecking her lips, making note that he didn't feel her return the kiss and the sting hits him deep in his stomach. 
"Okay, but please don't act like having sex with me is something you have to put 'extra effort' into. I know you like it." Suddenly, a tinge of fear creeps into Yoongi's chest and makes itself a little home between his ribs, "...don't you?" 
His girlfriend holds her breath before exhaling with a casual shake of her head. "Does everyone have to like sex as much as you do? So what if I don't want to fuck every day." 
"I don't mean we have to fuck every day," Yoongi explains, god forbid they end this conversation with another misunderstanding, "but a little more physical affection would be nice sometimes. You sleep in my bed more than anywhere else, but I still miss you." 
"Yoongi, I'm right here. You don't need to miss me." 
The irritated tone she uses is like an aching fire on Yoongi's skin. He pulls on her hip, rolling her onto her back and hovering over her lips with shallow desperate breaths. "That's the thing, I still do. Sometimes, I feel like we're not even in a relationship anymore. In the morning, you leave before me and come back before me, falling asleep again before I even get to tell you hello." Yoongi leans down and attaches his lips to the curve of her ear and deeply sighs at the weight of his hips pressing down on hers. "Baby, I swear I don't mean to push you, but I just want to feel like my girlfriend is still mine." 
Yoongi hears her annoyed huff and pulls his teasing back behind his teeth again, slowly lifting his kisses from her neck with a defeated expression hidden in the dark. 
He rolls away and onto his side facing away from her, feeling her run a hand over his back as she says gently, "We're okay like this. Let's just sleep, alright?" 
Yoongi closes his eyes, trying to will himself not to speak after being utterly embarrassed like he just was. But his will breaks, and his lips form the words. 
"Goodnight....love you." 
He waits for a moment but his only response is the faint sound of his girlfriend's breathing. 
::
You turn the clean, white card over and over in your hands.
Of course, he owns a modeling agency. Why wouldn't he own a modeling agency? 
Yoongi definitely has the physique to be a model. Or maybe he just runs the photo shoots, like a director or a producer? That address is actually pretty close to the smoothie shop you work for, and with this card, you could easily find him (not that you're going to). 
Quickly, you save Yoongi's number and address in your phone contacts. Then you rip up the business card and toss it in the trash bin. 
Immediately, those insecurities you thought you had started to overcome begin rushing back. But just like your therapist taught you, each time you start to have a negative thought, you tell it to shut up. 
Sometimes it works. 
He doesn't want you to call him anyway. He has a girlfriend, but even if he didn't, he'd never want to be with someone like you. Shut up. 
Sometimes it doesn't.
:: 
Work is slow today. Probably because of the rain. People never want to get out when it's so gloomy and gross. The downtime would be nice on any other day, but today, the lack of busy tasks has left your mind with the opportunity to wander in every direction. 
Unfortunately, the only direction it wants to go is to the phone in your back pocket, the one with Yoongi's number in it. 
He keeps popping up, and you don't know why. Not that you hate thinking about him. But the worst part is that every time Yoongi pops into your head, so does his girlfriend. 
It suddenly hits you while cleaning the blender, his girlfriend is probably a model. A beautiful one. Someone who doesn't have scars, or bruises, or metaphorical cuts and marks. Someone who doesn't have problems opening up their heart or trusting to the point of self-depreciation. Someone who is willing to wear a bikini during the Summer or who likes sleeping in the same bed with another body beside them. 
Yoongi doesn't deserve someone like you. Or rather, you don't deserve someone like Yoongi. A beat-up piece of trash who questions why she woke up that morning. A girl who hasn't been able to say "I love you" for over three years. A girl who hides herself like a child every chance she gets. 
And yet, you can't stop thinking about him. It's gotten to the point that you've dangerously started creating your own personal assumptions about his life and personality. 
You know, like psychopaths do. 
You like to think he probably owns a dog or two. Huskies. Maybe German Shepherds. He buys them that fancy dog food that's required to be refrigerated and toys, lots of toys. His girlfriend is allergic to dogs so she's never around, and he likes to send you random pictures of them digging up his girlfriend's garden in the backyard because he thinks it's funny. You like to imagine there are times when he's not so confident. Especially when it comes to romantic stuff, especially kissing. He probably blushes and stutters and asks before he does anything. 
It isn't long until the Yoongi you met over an impromptu blind date is morphed into your ideal, flawless partner, into someone he's probably not but you like the character you created out of him too much to stop daydreaming. 
Yoongi pops into your head so much today that you even imagine him walking through the front doors of your humble, corner smoothie shop. You imagine he's wearing a blue suit and brown shoes and his hair is dripping wet from the rain outside, combed out of his face to expose his forehead. He looks so handsome. You imagine he shakes his jacket out and hangs it on the coat rack to dry before scanning for a place to sit, another hand running through his hair for the third time since he entered but you're not mad one bit. 
"Hey," he greets you, the image of him walking towards the front counter with a friendly smile has you outwardly sighing, "I didn't know you worked here?" 
"Huh?" The miniscule sound escapes you when he continues to stare with expecting eyes. 
He laughs out loud, "I just came in to escape the rain, but didn't expect to find you handling a blender." 
In that exact moment, said blender slips from your hands and you fumble with it across the counter like an idiot, fighting to regain composure. 
"O-Oh well, yeah I mean, I just," you ramble until you're finally able to drop the blender back into its rightful place against the wall, "it's just a part time job. What are you doing here, Yoongi?" 
He points outside with flat lips. "Rain." 
"Right." Mental facepalm number one. 
He smiles at you genuinely. "You remember my name. I'm flattered." 
A nervous chuckle is not the smoothest response you could have used, but it's all you manage. "Of course. How could I forget?" 
"I guess it's safe to assume you made it home okay then," Yoongi comments, fixing the slightly ajar collar of his soaked, navy button up. "You never called me." 
He's upset at you. Shut up. 
It takes you a few moments to understand what he means, but then you remember his business card and a blush returns to your cheeks, a blush he's probably way too familiar with at this point. "Oh, yes. I'm sorry for running away like I did. I don't really have an excuse..." 
Yoongi just shakes his head, excusing your previous behavior with a friendly, "No, it's okay! Some people don't like to be touched and I get that. I should have asked before I just randomly grabbed you. I apologize." 
"It wasn't your fault, but thank you. I hope we can just put that behind us." 
"I'd like that," he smirks dangerously. 
Not that he was being suggestive in the slightest! Yoongi is a perfect gentleman in the way he keeps polite eye contact and smiles with every word you speak. But his smirk is dangerous because you find yourself magnetically pulled into the slight curve of his lips to the point where you're physically leaning against the side of the counter. 
His smile is so contagious. The way his eyes basically disappear, and the corners of his lips are kissed with smallest dimples. No doubt you're falling for his smile more and more every time you see it. Naturally, you subconsciously attempt to suppress those nasty feelings as much as you can. But for some reason, for the first time in three years, you're having a really difficult time. 
"So!" Yoongi says with a tap on the counter, "You do work here or you just think the green apron has potential to be the next fashion trend?"
You straighten your apron, running your hands over the monogram label. "What? You don't like the uniform?"
He shrugs. "You look better in black."
You cross your arms, trying to portray an air of confidence and playfulness. "I can pull off several colors. Green being one of them." 
Yoongi harshly hisses as if he doesn't want to offend you, but his next comment comes anyway. "I think, and I'm just a lowly model producer, but you would look much better in, I'm gonna suggest blue." 
After a long, careful examination of your apron, you shrug. "Okay, I'll give blue a chance. But if someone else walks in and tells me to wear purple, you're out of luck." 
Yoongi tries to keep a serious face, but ends up breaking down in giggles. "Deal. Thanks for at least acknowledging me."
"My pleasure."
Yoongi licks his lips, watching you for a second or two, eyes softly blinking as if he's considering something intensely. You're about to comment because you're beginning to feel rather small under his gaze, but he speaks up first, finally. 
"Would you like to have a smoothie with me? I'm going to be here until the rain dies down a little, and if I remember correctly, I really enjoy your company."
"Well," you consider, looking over your shoulder to where your only co-worker is sitting in the corner on her phone, zero concern for the world around them. "I would but I'm on the clock and already had my break."
He waves your excuse aside. "Eh, your boss won't mind. Come on, just one small smoothie with me. I'll take responsibility for any troubles. Promise." 
Glancing at the clock, your heart sinks because you do wanna sit with him, but if you ditch your shift, even just an hour early, you'll feel like crap and won't be able to enjoy Yoongi's company. The curse of obligation. 
"My shift ends in about an hour…" 
You're not worth waiting for. Shut up. 
You figure he won't; that's why you asked. Yoongi probably has someone to meet. Someone like his girlfriend. He'll say he doesn't have that kind of time, probably scoff at you for asking something so outrageous when you know he's a busy man, and then walk out and never talk to you again. It's for the best. Obviously Yoongi is not good for your health. 
He checks his watch and then nods. "I'll wait for you."
The shock on your face must be amusing, because as soon as Yoongi lowers his wrist and sees your face, he's bursting into a giggly smile. 
"You will?" 
He nods again, resting his hands inside his slack pockets. "I said I will." 
You answer him slowly, "Then...I guess one smoothie can't hurt."
Yoongi hasn't stopped smiling. He winks at you, a loud skip of your heart responding inside your chest. 
"Awesome."
::
Conversations with Yoongi are a roller coaster. One second, he's talking about the superiority of sweet potato fries to french fries, and the next he's pouting because his girlfriend won't let him buy a puppy. He doesn't have a dog currently and, no, he and his girlfriend did not break up. Judging from the way he talks about her, he's a loyal boyfriend. A kind, considerate, happy, loyal boyfriend. 
He says she's perfect in almost every way. He likes her hair, her smile, her laugh. He really appreciates and treasures every part of her. This is the stuff your elementary friends said having a boyfriend was all about. The kind of stuff in movies where the guy always speaks kindly of his girlfriend no matter who he's with. It's all very childish in a way, but you do admit. You're jealous. Jealous of the way Yoongi talks about his girlfriend.
Not that you were expecting him to be any less passionate about his relationship than he is about producing. He also loves his job very much. Turns out Yoongi is in charge of managing behind the scenes of the photoshoots and the final produced cut of the photos. 
So, basically, he's a genius. 
Each time he talks, he impresses you. So much, you have to take a sip of your smoothie to keep from staring slacked jawed at him. 
Yoongi starts giggling, his cute laugh bringing you back to reality.
"What?" you ask, stunned at the way he suddenly sounds like a little kid.
He lifts his finger and brushes the corner of your mouth, pulling away with a small dot of pink smoothie on his fingernail. He smiles and tastes it. His lips are pink and they look very soft for it being so cold outside. 
Okay, is it just you or was that not the cutest thing that's ever happened to anyone ever? Your ex-boyfriend never did things like that. 
"Thanks."
He nods. "No problem. I'm assuming you like your smoothie then?"
You copy his cute nod. "I always get this one." 
He sits back and crosses his arms with a furrowed brow. "Always? Why that one?" 
"I know I like it." 
"Don't you wanna try something different now and then?" 
"I haven't wanted to try something different in a long time," you answer, using your straw to play with the leftover smoothie at the bottom of your cup. “It’s safer to get what I know I like.” 
Yoongi blinks at you. Behind his eyes, he's processing, things are stacking in his mind and making more and more sense the more he talks to you. He can already tell you're no ordinary smoothie employee. There's something special about you, special and perhaps painful. He wants to know you more. 
"Can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"Did you lose my card?"
Your eyes widen to the size of baseballs. Inside your chest, your heart screams at you not to answer. This is where the fairy tale ends and reality slaps you in the face.  
"Umm, to be honest, I-I threw it away," you reply with a guilty frown. 
Yoongi clenches his heart in pain, "Oh! You sure know how to hurt a guy's feelings," he chuckles.
It's things like this that really bug you. He's obviously joking but you feel like crying. You really like Yoongi and now you've disappointed him. 
He's disappointed in you for what you did. He hates you for that. Shut up. 
No matter how many times you tell yourself he's fine, your mind keeps plunging itself into darkness, beating itself up for being so useless and stupid. 
"I threw it away after I saved your number in my phone," you quietly tell him in hopes that he'll accept your excuse. "I have your number in my phone, I swear." 
You try to fake a playful smile but it's impossible. Your head hangs low, much lower than it was before, but he still manages to notice your eyes and the dim wetness in them. 
Yoongi stops and turns to rest his chin in his palms, titling his head to see you and kindly smiling. "Ah, so is that why you haven't called me?"
"What?"
"The reason you haven't called me is because you have my number in your phone?"
The smirk on his face finds you practically speechless. "Well...no?" 
His lips smack and he flashes a warm smile at you. "Then why didn't you call me? Not that I was waiting for your call or anything, but I was kinda waiting for your call." 
What did he just say? You understand that some people are overly friendly or just have a flirty personality, but why does he keep saying cute things like this when he has a girlfriend? 
"You have a girlfriend," you finally say, "I didn't call you because you have a girlfriend."
Suddenly, his eyes realize and he leans back as far from you as possible. 
"Is that what you thought? Oh, no! I didn't mean--I mean, that's not what I was implying at all. Yes, I have a girlfriend, but I was hoping you would call me because I want to offer you a job."
"A job?" you ask timidly. 
"Yes, a job." Yoongi explains, "I think you have some raw talent hidden under that shy exterior, and I wanted to offer you a chance to audition for my company. But I also wanted to make sure your personality is as sweet as your appearance. I was hoping you would call me and I could see you again, so I could make sure I wanted you for the new winter line. That's all, I swear."
"Oh." 
It all starts to make sense. His friendliness wasn't an act, but you also misunderstood him from the very beginning. He never intended to have a relationship with you, well, not a casual one at least. 
"I've never modeled before." 
"That's okay!" Yoongi says. "I don’t like to use professional models. They're too pompous and demanding. Plus, they don't look as natural as say someone like you. I like your style, and from the time I've spent with you, I really like the energy and vibe you bring too. I want to hire you."
"Hire? Me?"
Yoongi nods.
Flashbacks of times you've watched yourself in the mirror come to mind. Clearly, Yoongi is only asking you this because he's yet to see you in something truly form fitting. While a winter line doesn't sound nearly as demanding or scary as say a swimsuit line, you can't deny the amount of sheer terror just thinking about being in front of a camera does to you. 
"I can't."
"Why not?" 
I'm bruised. I'm broken. I'm scarred. I'm imperfect. Shut up. 
"I have a job here."
Yoongi scoffs, "Don't use that excuse on me. Someone just offered you a well-paying job to stand in place and you turn it down to blend smoothies for people? Come on, all I'm asking is for you to audition. Whatdya say?" 
"Thank you, but…" you nervously pick at your sweater paws wrapped around your cold, styrofoam cup, "I'm happy where I am." 
The gentleman sitting across from you narrows his eyes and sighs. "Are you? I mean, I know we don't know each other insanely well, but you can talk to me. If you want to."
"I know. Thanks." Your default response when someone offers to get closer to you.
Yoongi slowly nods and ganders around the store. "I guess you do have a little home here, huh? I get why you don't want to leave. Still..." he finishes his smoothie and stands up, "tell me if you change your mind?"
"Okay, sure," you say without looking up.
He stands there watching you for a minute or so before you hear his soft voice, "Hey."
You slowly find his gaze looking down at you and instantly you're locked into his eyes.
"Call me tomorrow? We can have lunch together on my break."
Immediately, you shake your head. "I'm not going to model for you, Yoongi." 
"I know, but who said we can't be friends? I'm just asking you for lunch not to marry me."
You can't help your blush. "Friends?" The word slips past your lips before you can stop it. 
He squats down next to you and smiles softly, little sparkles in his eyes you didn't know were there until you became this physically close to him. "I think you're really cool, ___. I'd like to be your friend, if you can manage that."
Your eyes find the ground like it's life or death. Did it suddenly get really hot in here or is that just you getting sick over nothing again? His eyes are so beautiful and it feels like they see into your deepest thoughts and insecurities when he looks at you like that. It's scary and nice and painful all at the same time. 
You take a deep breath and look up finally, unsure of what you're about to say, but your lips part and you decide whatever words come next must be your honest feelings. 
"Okay. Lunch. Just promise me there won't be a wedding photographer."
Yoongi laughs and crosses his heart. "I promise." He stands and pulls out a ten-dollar bill, dropping it on the table to pay for the smoothies. "See you tomorrow, ___."
You wave as he walks out the door, smiling back at you before stepping into the harsh world with exemplary confidence and positivity, the same kind you hope can find you again someday. 
::
"Baby? Is that you?" Yoongi hears the lovely sound of his girlfriend's voice come from the kitchen when he enters the house.
"Yeah, it's me." He sniffs, "Are you cooking?"
He hears her footsteps come around the corner and smiles when he sees her, sighing in complete and domestic satisfaction. 
"It's in the oven right now. I felt bad about our little fight the other night and wanted to make it up to you. Sorry, I used all your pasta though."
Yoongi sighs as he takes in the beautiful sight of his girlfriend. She's dressed in his t-shirt and boxers with a small white apron wrapped around her waist. She looks absolutely adorable. Yoongi can feel his heart swell at the sight of her.
"Baby, you shouldn't have."
She reaches out to him. Yoongi drops his coat and immediately goes to her, scooping her up in his arms and kissing her thin lips. She melts into his embrace.
"Hmm," she hums against his lips before pulling away, "well, I still felt bad. So, I put some lasagna in the oven and bought a bottle of your favorite merlot. How do you feel about having an Italian night?"
Yoongi smiles and kisses her nose cutely. "Sounds perfect." He begins to sway her in his arms while she sighs. "You look adorable by the way. I love it when you wear my clothes."
"I know," she giggles, "that's why I'm wearing them."
Yoongi raises his eyebrows. "Is that the only reason?" He dips his lips to her neck and begins to tickle her skin with kisses. "Sure there isn't another reason my girlfriend is wearing my boxers?" 
She only giggles and tries to keep Yoongi's fingers from tickling her ribs. "Uh no, there's not. Yoongi!" she exclaims when he swoops her into the air, her legs instantly wrapping around his waist. "I swear, Min Yoongi, if you don't put me down right now—"
"You'll what?" Yoongi interrupts. "What will you do?"
His girlfriend huffs a few empty threats which makes him chuckle. 
"I think we've established before-hand that I'm the dominant one in this relationship," he leads them to the couch before dropping the small girl on the cushions and climbing over her, "or maybe you need to be reminded."
His words reach her ear mere seconds before his lips do. They encircle her lobe before traveling down her neck to her collar. Each kiss he leaves with a sigh as his hands explore beneath his shirt which she stole the previous night. Without a second to spare, he rips her apron off and tosses it behind them. Even that small action turns him on like crazy. 
Fuck, he needs this. The feeling of her soft body under his. The sound of her moans as he drives her into the couch, his cock stretching out her warmth as her nails scratch down his back, bringing him that much closer to the edge. The way she grabs his hair when his teeth sink into her shoulder. The feeling of someone else's hot skin sticking to his like glue. The way her body writhes when he pulls her thigh over his shoulder, and he can find that one angle that makes her scream his name.
Just thinking about it makes Yoongi moan. 
"Baby, the lasagna will be done in like fifteen minutes."
"Fifteen minutes is plenty of time." He quickly reconnects their lips, licking inside her mouth and drawing out her tongue, partially because he needs to taste her and partially because he's nervous if she talks, she'll tell him to stop again. 
To Yoongi's pleasant surprise, she doesn't stop him. It could be because she made this whole dinner to apologize for stopping him last time, but Yoongi hopes it's because she wants him just as much as he wants her right now.
"Wait," she finally mumbles against his kiss when she gets the chance. Even though he doesn't want to, he pulls away so she can speak. 
She smiles up at him pitifully and runs a hand through his dark hair. "How about we just enjoy our dinner for tonight, okay? We have plenty of time to do all this stuff another day."
Yoongi freezes. He thought...but for a split second he could feel her responding to him. Her head was tilting to give him more access, her body felt warm and more welcoming than it had in weeks. Yoongi was gonna take his pants off and everything, so what happened?
"Yeah. Okay." 
His girlfriend sighs as they both sit up again. She pats his thigh and goes back to the kitchen, but she doesn't make it two steps away before—
"Do you find me attractive?"
She stops and turns around. "What? Of course, I do."
"Okay, but what I mean is…do you think I'm sexy?"
She just furrows her brow. "What the heck are you getting at?" 
Suddenly, Yoongi stands and strips his shirt, followed quickly by his pants. His breathing picks up pace, heart pounding and insecurities screaming. 
"Do you even want me?" His eyes look seductive, but his voice is shaking with nervousness.
"I..." his girlfriend swallows from nervousness as well, "why would you ask me that? What's gotten into you?"
"Just answer the question," Yoongi demands.
She doesn't speak. Instead she takes a step towards Yoongi and places a hand on his bare chest. Yoongi hates himself for this... but with how distant she's been physically, just one hand on his chest sends a chill through his entire body and a sensation to his gut that makes him crave more. 
"Are you okay, Yoongi?"
"No! I'm not okay, this relationship is not okay. That's the issue." He can't keep it in anymore. Not now. "And stop calling me Yoongi." 
She scoffs, her own voice raising to match his. "Yoongi is your name, what do you expect me to call you?" 
"You never called me by my name before, remember. Baby? Honey boy? Darling? Daddy? What happened to those nicknames, huh? Although, I guess you really only called me names in bed and since we stopped having sex you don't have a reason to anymore. Is that right?" 
"What the hell has gotten into you?" 
"I want you. So badly. We haven’t gone on a date in weeks and you always push me away before we can even get naked. Something is wrong, so would you please, just--" his hands reach out to her waist, but she backs away quickly, leaving Yoongi standing in the middle of the room practically naked and very confused.
"I don't want to have sex," she says plainly. 
Yoongi slowly lowers his hands. He's never thought anything like this before, but he feels the need to ask just for the confirmation. "Baby...are you asexual? Because if you are, we can work with that, but you have to talk to me—"
"What? No!" she immediately retorts. "I just don't want to do it right now."
"You haven't wanted to 'do it' in over a month, and I don't mean to offend you by asking, I just thought—"
She suddenly waves her hand in an effort to shut Yoongi up. "I promise I am not asexual. I just..." her voice trails off.
Yoongi pushes her to continue, "You just what?"
She sighs annoyed and turns to walk into the kitchen. "I just already had a long day and I'm tired, alright."
Yoongi slowly follows her, pressuring her to continue the conversation anyway. "Babe, if you're tired, why did you take the extra energy to make dinner for me? You could have ordered something." 
She shrugs and wipes little circles on the counter top with her hand towel. "Just because I wanted to," she mumbles but it's not cute like it was before. It's just frustrating. 
"Look, I can take care of myself later. But I don't think we should ignore this. What do you think about maybe talking to someone about it?" he asks, stepping closer to her and sliding his hands around her waist once she allows him. 
"What do you mean? Like seeing a counselor?" 
"A relationship counselor, yeah. There's clearly something wrong in our sex life or we wouldn't be fighting like this all the time. I feel like there's a lot of tension that we're not releasing." 
His girlfriend furrows her brow, clearly not impressed with the idea. "If you need to release tension that badly, why don't you do it before you come home?"
"You mean at work?" Yoongi almost can't believe she even suggested that. "I work at a modeling agency." 
She shrugs again. "Yeah, so?"
Yoongi takes a step back and shakes his head, very confused and somewhat offended. "I am surrounded by stunning, sexy women all day who would do anything to get on the producer's good side." He points to himself. "Do you understand how easy it would be for me to release my tension at work? Are you asking me to cheat on you?" 
That's when his girlfriend throws the hand towel across the counter and raises her voice louder than either of them have been all night. "Do what you fucking need to, Yoongi! Whatever, I just can't take this nagging about sex anymore! I'm stressed, alright?"
"Then let me help you destress! I need you, you need me. Let's just go back to how we were before. When we were both happy. When we were sleeping together. Now it's like…I don't know, I just hate how we are now." Yoongi steps back so he can run his hands through his hair.
"Well, I don't!" she replies with a stomp. "God, I don't want to have sex every day!"
"I'm not asking you to have sex with me every day, but I haven't touched you or been touched in over a month and it's messing with me! You just quit on me cold turkey without any warning, with no explanation, and now I feel more distant from you than I ever have, and honestly, it's really shitty of you to keep pushing me off without saying why!” 
She crosses her arms, and huffs a breath, popping her hip like one of those mean girls from high school. "Well, you're just gonna have to get over that because I'm done having this conversation with you." 
And right at that moment, the oven timer beeps, and Yoongi feels his heart drop. She pulls the lasagna out of the oven and places it on top of the stove before throwing her oven mitts next to the dish. 
"I think I'm just gonna head home," she says quietly. "Enjoy your dinner."
Yoongi sighs and rolls his lips between his teeth, telling himself he should stop her. But he doesn't, and she walks out the door with her hair blowing back a scent of lavender and missed opportunity.
He doesn't eat dinner that night. 
::
There aren't many contacts in your phone in all honesty. It's hard to scroll through them and not come across Yoongi's name. 
You're not sure you should be doing this, but he did make an effort to be friends with you and you've been excited about seeing him again, no matter how nervous his smile makes you. 
Calling people on the phone has never been your strong point. It's such a simple task and yet your anxiety spikes every time it rings against your ear, that staticky, muffled ringing that makes the air in your lungs bubble and bop like it's sizzling. 
"Hello?" 
He answered. Holy shit he answered. 
"Hey, Yoongi." 
"I know that voice," he sounds like his smile, if that makes sense. Just hearing it makes you blush. "So you decided to call me. Thanks for finally giving me your number. I was wondering when you were gonna come around." 
"Actually, that's why I called you—"
Yoongi's gasp interrupts you. "You're not standing me up, are you?"
You can't help but giggle. If that comment came from anyone else, it might put you into a straight panic. But with Yoongi, you can imagine the playful smirk on his face right now and it lightens the moods immediately. 
"I got caught up cleaning a mess for my coworker. They called out and I got stuck doing their side work. I'm sorry." 
"Well, I'd rather you be late than hurt or something." 
People who fall in love can usually pin point that one moment when they started really falling for the other person, that one action, or personality trait, or statement when they felt their entire body go weightless and everything made sense for once. 
For the first time in three years, as soon as Yoongi said that ridiculously considerate and not at all romantically intended sentence, things started to make sense. 
"So, where are you?" 
"I'm walking to the bus stop now," you tell him. 
"Should I come pick you up? You'd probably have a much better time if you didn't have to take public transportation."
"No!" you respond a little too quickly, and it makes you pause before you can even finish your thought. "I mean, I can't ask you to go out of your way like that. I'll just meet you there like we planned."
Yoongi scoffs. "Nah, it's all good. I don't mind at all. Just stay where you are and I'll be there in a few." 
"But--" 
But you don't have a chance to retort when he ends the call suddenly. Apparently he won't be hearing another word on the subject. Yoongi is on his way here and you have no choice but to wait for him. 
It's a bit chilly. Thankfully the ice on the road has begun to melt but there's still a biting breeze and plenty of reasons to wear gloves and a scarf. Too bad you didn't bring any. 
By the time Yoongi pulls up to the curb, you've begun to shiver. He pops open the door from inside and gestures for you to climb inside. Cars were never really your thing but you can tell just by the shape of the headlights this is not your run of the mill sedan. 
That and the door opens up instead and out. You don't even know car doors did that. 
Inside is already toasty and the passenger seat is warm. 
"Did you wait long?"
You almost didn't hear him over the feeling of all your chills melting away. 
"No, you made great time. I figured you would have been later because of the snow and stuff."
Yoongi puts a fist to his chest, proclaiming, "I pride myself on being punctual. But I hope you don't mind, I actually need to stop by my work and drop something off. I forgot I still had it and the marketing team needs it before tomorrow." 
Of course you don't mind. Yoongi is being more than generous, picking you up and taking you to lunch, talking to you like an adult, sharing with you, being kind to you, smiling at you, existing. 
He keeps driving and the conversation flows just as easily as it did the night at the restaurant and yesterday at the smoothie shop. Every minute you spend with Yoongi, you enjoy yourself more and more. He's very easy to talk to and you really appreciate all the little winks and side glances he tries to give you despite driving. It feels like he actually cares about what you're saying, which is kinda new for you to be honest. 
"So, tell me," he continues after you've finished comparing your favorite things about snow, "who is this coworker who dares to call out and leave you with all their work?" 
"Oh, they do it all the time. I'm used to it by now." 
"Doesn't the manager care?" 
"Pretty sure they're sleeping with the manager so...I'm guessing not." 
"Maybe you should sleep with the manager. Then you could get out of shifts too." 
"I don't know," you hiss, "double chins and back fat don't really do it for me." 
As soon as you speak, Yoongi busts out in giggles. He must have thought your comment was funnier than you expected because next thing he reaches over and places a steady hand on your knee. You thankfully manage to hold in your sudden desire to jerk away. Yoongi said he wouldn't randomly touch you anymore, but you get the feeling that's just something he does with everyone. It's one way he shows affection. You really like that about him actually, but you're also still learning how not to be controlled by your bruises. 
"So what does it for you then? If it's not double chins and back fat." 
He obviously meant it to be an innocent question but you don't know how to answer it without being totally and completely serious. 
"I guess, umm, I like guys who are more gentle. And honest." 
Yoongi nods, keeping his eyes on the road and his hands on the wheel. "Honesty can be hard to find these days. Sometimes, even when you're honest, the other person just won't be. And you don't know why and they just keep hiding stuff from you or refusing to talk to you, like you're some stranger. And no matter how much you try to be what they want it's like they don't want you anymore but they won't even tell you why, it's so stupid." 
He finishes with a heavy sigh, leaning his cheek on his fist against the door. For a moment, you're both silent. You haven't seen this side of Yoongi before, but it would be silly to assume he doesn't deal with frustrations or disappointments like you do. There must be something bothering him lately. You'd like to be his confidant but you're not sure exactly how to go about doing that. 
He ends up speaking before you can think of the words to say. "Sorry, I didn't mean to drop all that on you." 
"Trouble in paradise?" 
"Guess you could say that," he shrugs. "But it's all good. Let's change the subject, if you don't mind." 
"Sorry. Sure." 
That answers that question. Yoongi doesn't want you as a confidant. Curse you and your inability to initiate or carry decent conversations. The awkwardness steadily grows the longer you fiddle with your purse and study your toes. His car is so quiet when it drives, all you can make out is the occasional crunch of snow under his tires and his hands sliding over the leather steering wheel. 
"Is your work much farther?" 
"Yeah, we just have to cross the bridge after this light," he says with a flat smile as the car comes to a stop.
The red illuminates the inside of the car despite it being midday. Clouds litter the sky and block the majority of any possible sunlight. Winter is nice but you miss the sunshine on days like this. 
"What's your favorite food?" he suddenly asks you. 
"Umm, probably fruit. I also like rice dishes." 
"Favorite color?" 
"Purple." 
"Favorite animal?" 
"Definitely dogs," you start to crack a smile. "Why the pop quiz?" 
The light turns green and he starts moving forward again. "I have to keep asking questions, so I can learn more about you. Plus, most friends know these things about each other," he points out.
"If you say so," you giggle, simply flattered that he wants to know things about you. It's been a long time since someone genuinely wanted to know you, and the fact that it's Yoongi doesn't make it easier on your heart either. 
Yoongi sees your shy smile and smiles back. "Glad we agree."
Shit, you really like this. Riding in a car, feeling completely safe with the person driving. Talking about absolutely everything. Learning new things about each other without fear. You're not sure how he's managed to create this safe atmosphere, but somehow Yoongi makes talking, something you've never found easy, so simple. 
He continues with the questions. "Favorite movie genre?"
"I like old timey romantic movies."
Yoongi raises an eyebrow. "Really? You mean like black and white movies?"
"Yeah, my mom and dad used to take me to drive-ins and we would sit in the car, throwing popcorn at random things, making comments about the actors. Just silly stuff, you know." 
Yoongi smiles, listening intensely to your every word while keeping the car straight. "Used to?"
Suppose now is as good a time as any to share a little about your past. You've never been willing to say this much about yourself before but with Yoongi you don't mind opening up so much. 
"My parents died right after my eighteenth birthday. I still miss them. Sometimes, I think if I could just hug my mom or get my dad's advice on what I should do just one more time...things would be so much better. Daz always said they're dead now so what's the point of wishing hopelessly. He's probably right. He was very adamant about these things."
You finish your little story and Yoongi doesn't say a word for another several seconds.
And then, he spoke, forcing you to pick up your hanging head and stare at his profile.
"Look, I don't know who this Daz guy is, but he has no right saying things like that. It's one hundred percent okay to miss your parents. And if it's hopeless wishing, who fucking cares? Wishing keeps your heart alive. It keeps your hope alive. And if you're not hoping for anything, then what's the point?"
Those words are the kindest you've heard in a really long time. So long in fact, you don't know how you're supposed to respond. Even if he didn't mean them in the way you want him to, you know he meant them to encourage you, and that in and of itself means so much. 
You honestly feel safer even just sitting in a car with him, driving down the snowy street in the cold of a winter afternoon. You could spill everything. Every little piece of yourself. 
Carefully, you watch his profile, paying special attention to your heart tugging in your chest. And not because Yoongi is the first guy to treat you this way in such a long time, although that's probably a factor, you just trust his person. You don't have to keep your guard up constantly or suspect him of lying to you or—
"And who the hell is this Daz guy anyway? He sounds like a douche."
Whoops.
"Uhh," you stutter, "h-he's my...ex." 
"Your ex said that to you?" Yoongi asks, totally shocked. Your heart jumps. 
It's time to confess. Yoongi has been honest with you so it's time to do the same. "Do you remember the first time we met?"
Yoongi nods. "Yeah, at Jin's restaurant. What does that have to do with this?"
You take a deep breath. "Remember how I told you I was waiting for a blind date? Actually, that was my first date since breaking up with Daz." 
Yoongi does a double take at your embarrassed expression. "Really?" 
You just squeeze your folded hands in your lap and stare down at your crossed ankles. Both your cheeks feel like they're a thousand degrees hotter now even with the snow starting to fall harder every second outside the car window. 
Now he knows you're a liar. You lied. He hates you now. Shut up. 
Yoongi lets out a long breath and looks straight ahead, but his hand finds its way from the steering wheel to yours in your lap. "Sorry, ___. I've been stood up before. It sucks, it really does."
You can't focus. From the way his palm feels pressed to yours, to the way his fingers wrap around your hand so softly, everything about his hand gives you an intense feeling of inviolability. His profile is shining, his jawline sharper than glass, but his eyes have a soft undertone to how they look out into the world.
"I'm sorry for lying," you whisper, still unable to convince yourself he's not about to kick you out of the car. 
Yoongi looks over at you, expression turning sympathetic when you can't look back at him. "You didn't really lie to me though. You didn't have any obligation to tell me anything. Besides, people lie all the time, and in comparison, you really don't need to apologize. I'm not mad at you."
"You're not?'
Yoongi shakes his head and chuckles. "Of course, I'm not. What, like I'm gonna pull the car over and leave you on the side of the road because I don't affiliate with liars? My job has me surrounded by liars every day. And they're much worse than you, believe me." 
"What do you mean?"
Yoongi explains, "Okay so, you've seen magazine covers and photoshoots, right? All that stuff is edited and polished until it's perfect. Most of those girls don't look like they do in pictures. In real life models are much more..." he takes a moment to think of the right word, "erroneous."
"Erroneous?"
Yoongi glances your way and smiles proudly. "It's my word for the day. It means flawed."
"Oh," you stifle a giggle with the back of your hand, "well, I appreciate you not kicking me out of your car. And for your significantly expanded vocabulary. It's very advantageous."
Yoongi raises his brow, impressed and entertained by your equally extensive vocabulary. 
Conversations with Yoongi are turning out to be so refreshing. You never talked about things like vocabulary words, models, or even old timey romance movies with Daz. 
Actually, you haven't really talked with anyone since the last time Yoongi talked with you at the smoothie shop. That conversation has been replaying in your mind for the past few hours and his words haven't left your brain yet. For some reason everything Yoongi says gets stuck in between your ears. But it's kind of okay. You like having his voice in your head. It's calming. 
"Earth to ___?" 
"Huh? Oh, sorry," you immediately apologize. "I tend to zone out sometimes." 
"Stuck in dream world?" he asks with an understanding sigh. 
You shrug. "Something like that." 
"The dream world can be a dangerous place, you know. Careful how often you spend time there."
Some of the things Yoongi says catch you off guard. Sometimes you think you've got him figured out and then he says something totally unexpected and yet completely understandable, and it surprises you how well you resonate with his worldview and experiences considering you've only met him a few times. 
"Because," you continue his thought, "if you're not careful, you can grow complacent with your dreams. The only problem being nothing can ever live up to them. You'll only ever be satisfied when you're not in reality. Right?" 
Yoongi looks over to you slowly as the car comes to pause at the last red light before his company. You keep a solemn gaze fixed on the road ahead.
"Right..." he says with a soft blink, sliding his hands up and around the steering wheel.
"Yoongi?"
"Yeah?"
"What do you do when all your dreams are nightmares?"
You've never asked anything like this to anyone, and this could potentially be very inappropriate, but you ask anyway. Maybe because for the first time, you think Yoongi could have a chance of having the answer. Maybe because you've come to the end of your patience and you're tired of dealing with unanswered questions. Whatever the reason, the words tumble out on their own. But you're not necessarily trying to stop them either. 
"Find something good."
Yoongi's words shock you, but you're also curious as to what he could mean by that.
"Something good?" 
He shrugs. "Yeah. Focus on the good. Everyone has nightmares from time to time. Probably because no one has a perfect reality and their daydreams are going to have some downsides too. The main point of a dreamworld is not to erase the hellishness from this reality. It's to create a whole new place to go when this reality gets a little too…" 
"Real?" 
"Yeah. Real." 
He parks his car and for a moment, you just watch each other, as if silently understanding that whatever it is the two of you are separately going through, whatever trials, whatever pain, whatever struggle, whatever reality, you both just found someone you can confide in and trust. Something neither of you have had in a long while. 
"We're here," he sings and exits the car with you close behind. 
Your head falls back completely just trying to see all the way to the top of it. Standing on the sidewalk in your thrift shop jeans and sweater, you don't feel nearly rich enough to go in there. 
Yoongi leads you past the front doors, past security, past another set of metal detectors and into what you immediately realize must be the main hall. 
Everything is very impressive, from the massive cameras to the people behind them. You've never seen so many screens and all of them are flashing picture after picture in real time as the photographer takes them. 
Standing in the middle of a white sheet at the front of the room is a beautiful model. She's wearing what looks like very expensive clothes and high heels. Her hair is perfect, her smile is perfect, her outfit is perfect. She looks perfect. And she looks so at ease. You can only imagine if that was you, you'd never look that good. 
Yoongi taps your shoulder. "I'm stepping into that back office for a second. Can you wait here? I'll be right back." 
"Yeah, sure." 
As soon as Yoongi is out of sight, you try to get a little closer to the action. The whole thing is admittedly very very cool. The idea that the model and photographer work together to help influence thousands of people to buy a particular piece of clothing. 
The fashion industry always intrigued you but you never felt beautiful enough to pursue it. Part of that is your natural tendency to belittle yourself, but you also know a lot of your issues with self acceptance came from your past relationship. You keep telling yourself you've moved on and healed but the truth is there's still pieces of you that hurt on a regular basis. 
But watching this model do her job...wow. You have to admit, it looks fun. If only you had the guts to accept Yoongi's offer. 
"Oh, thank god, you're here!" 
Your head whips around and standing before you is a very tall, very flamboyant stylist. He's got a measuring tape draped around his neck, a crop top beneath his short overalls and the longest, prettiest eyelashes you've ever seen on any eyes. 
"Next time you're gonna be late, please have the decency to let me know. We're all trying to do our jobs here, same as you, okay babe?" 
"But I'm not--" 
He takes your wrists and ushers you towards the other side of the room where there's racks of clothes and about six or seven vanities. 
"No excuses, babydoll," he sighs, sitting you in a chair and pulling the ponytail from your hair. "Let's do this quick. You'll find out soon enough but let me give you a head's up, Mr. Cameraman over there is not known for his patience." He chuckles to himself before adding, "But he knows how to use his hips just as well as a camera so I'm usually convinced to let things slide, if you know what I mean." 
His comments make you giggle. Suddenly, you're very comfortable. He plays with your hair, fluffing it and styling it before moving onto your make up. It doesn't take him long. He says you're already so naturally beautiful he doesn't need to do a lot. 
"Makeup is meant to accentuate a person's natural beauty, not paint on a whole new face. That's why it's called 'makeup' not 'mask on', darling. Write that down." 
After scanning through his several racks of clothes, he picks out a few pieces and tosses them towards you. 
"There's a curtain over here, honey. Let me know if you need help." 
And with that he hurries his cute little butt to another station and gets to helping someone else. As you watch him, you realize there's not many people here. The set is big and appears to need many people to run it efficiently, but there's only maybe fifteen working bodies nearby. Maybe they're short staffed. Or maybe Yoongi is just picky about who he hires. 
Whatever the reason, Yoongi made a very good choice hiring that stylist, you think. 
The clothes he gave you look warm and cozy but definitely higher fashion than you're used to. Maybe you should try them on, just to be polite? 
With more excitement than you thought you'd have, you hurry behind the curtain and begin stripping. After double checking no one could see, you slip on the fancy pants and top and coat. 
As soon as you step out, the stylist comes running back over, hands over his mouth and what looks like tears in his eyes. 
"Baby, look at you!" he gasps. "You are so beautiful. Yes. Yes! This is it, Felicia! Oh my god, girl, everything about this is right. You look fucking amazing!" 
His compliments make you blush, pink cheeks only adding to the casual winter girlfriend aesthetic he's got you dolled up in. You wrap the coat further around your waist and smile bashfully. 
"I like it." 
"That's right you do! Now, go do your job and model that coat like your paycheck depends on it. Because it does. Go go go." 
"What? Oh no, that's not what I--" 
"Less talking, more modeling. Snap snap!" 
You're shoved in front of a blank backdrop, suddenly and forcefully. Scanning the room, you don't see Yoongi anywhere yet. He must still be handling business elsewhere. 
The photographer lifts his camera but he lowers it again before taking any shots. 
"Are you gonna pose?" 
"Uhh…" you start to panic, "I don't know…s-sorry." 
From the corner of your eye, you catch the stylist gesturing for you to do something. He puts his hand on his hip and mocks showing off his outfit with a confident and flirty smile. 
With nothing else to go on and no clear sign of escaping, you decide it's now or never. It does cross your mind that this is all Yoongi's doing, a last attempt to make you reconsider working for him, and while it's petty and a little invasive of your personal space, you might as well make the most of it. 
You try to copy the stylist's poses. A hand on your hip, a hand behind your head, legs wide and hips pushed back. But it doesn't look right and it feels awkward. The photographer takes a peak at the pictures and shakes his head. 
He's disappointed in you. You ruined his photoshoot. You ruined the coat. You ruined all these people's hard work. It's all your fault. Shut up. 
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," you mumble repeatedly, rubbing a hand over the back of your neck and refusing to look at the camera anymore. 
The photographer gasps, "Hold it right there!" He snaps a picture before you can move. "That's it. That is, oh damn, that's great. Do that again." 
"Do what?" 
"The shy thing," he mimics your hand on the back of his neck, "what you just did." 
With little assurance you tuck your hair behind your ear, glancing at the camera before looking away in embarrassment. 
"Nice," he encourages you, "keep it up!" 
You're not sure how you being shy and unconfident makes for good pictures, but you continue being your awkward, unsure self, and the photographer continues snapping pictures of you from every angle and side. He litters you with praises the whole time, some way too good to be true. But the more you hear how much he likes your modeling, the more willing you are to try new poses. 
By the time Yoongi returns, you've modeled two other outfits and had your make up redone three times. 
He walks out, hands in his pockets and an innocent smirk on his face as he watches you giggle at the camera. He thinks you're a natural, playing with the camera like that, teasing it by looking over your shoulder and shyly flipping your hair. Not only do your pictures come out flawless, but you make the clothes look remarkable too. 
"Ready to go?" he calls for you. 
As soon as he gets your attention, you hurry over to him, thanking the photographer and stylist on the way. 
You stop in front of him and smile. "Okay, fine. You win." 
"I win what?" 
"I know you asked to come here so I would get a chance to model and hopefully reconsider your job offer." 
He gapes, a hand over his chest. "___, whatever do you mean? I would never try something like that." 
You giggle at his reaction, playful hitting his bicep. "Oh, stop it! You know exactly what you did. And I admit, modeling is pretty fun." 
"And you're so good at it," he insists, pointing to the pictures on the monitor. "You were a natural up there. Just like I knew you would be." 
"You really think so?" 
"Yeah, I do. And if you enjoyed it that much, you should come back and be my winter model. If you want to. Please? Only if you want to. Pretty please?" 
This might be the second biggest mistake of your life, but right now, it feels like exactly what you need to do. Even if this all ends up being a waste of time, you want to experience it. It's been so long since you said yes to something new, something exciting. At least you know your therapist would be proud of you. And Yoongi's smile is influencing your heart in more ways than one at this moment. 
"Okay. I'll do it!" you say excitedly and almost immediately, he wraps you in a tight hug. 
::
Yoongi feels entirely victorious. Today was more of a success than he ever anticipated. You finally accepted a seasonal position helping him shoot his winter line, and if he's lucky, he'll be able to convince you to help out with the summer line too. 
Not even thinking about how much fun he had with you in the process too. He wasn't lying when he said he enjoys your company. If anything he was downplaying just how much he likes you. Your reactions are genuine, you're honest about your feelings, you can be funny, you can be serious. It's like he always knows what he's getting into and there's no guessing when it comes to you. You just get him. 
That's...really nice. You're really nice. 
Plus he got to come home early which hasn't happened in what feels like forever. He can actually cook something for dinner if he wants to. He has the time, the energy, and the ingredients. What the hell, why not? He can spoil himself for a night. 
He drops his stuff by the door and makes his way to his bedroom to change into comfy clothes. 
Weird. He doesn't remember closing his door this morning. 
Just as his hand closes around the knob, he hears it. A high pitched, desperate moan. He recognizes the voice but not the name it's currently cursing in explicit pleasure. 
Part of him doesn't want to open the door. If he does, he has to face it and envisioning the scene in his head is already his worst nightmare. The other half of him doesn't give a fuck. 
He pushes open the door and sure enough, there she is. With her head thrown back against his pillow, in his bed, covered by nothing but his sheets, in his apartment. Her hand is buried in the curly black hair of some strange guy who's buried himself between her legs. 
They both jump when Yoongi slams the door against the wall. 
He watches them, expressionless. 
"Yoongi, what are you doing here?" 
"My apartment," he deadpans. "What are you doing here?" 
It's such a sick, mean question to ask someone in her position but she couldn't earn his pity or his sympathy even if she wanted to. Not anymore. Not now. Not ever again. 
The douchebag who was just devouring her pussy sits up with a dazed, fucked out glass over his eyes and shimmering lips. He uses the bedsheet to wipe his mouth before attempting to say something. 
"Whoa, uhhh, hey dude listen, she didn't tell me she had a--" 
"Get out," Yoongi commands.
The guy doesn't hesitate. Without giving Yoongi's girlfriend another glance, he pulls his jeans over his ass, grabs his shirt and runs out the front door, stuttering as he goes. 
She sits there, naked and shamelessly dripping arousal from between her legs. 
She doesn't say anything. Not that Yoongi necessarily wants her to, but it would be nice to at least hear her try to explain herself. Her silence cuts through his skin like a knife, carving her obvious state of indifference across his skin and engraving every hint and voiceless sign he should have seen but chose to ignore for the sake of avoiding confrontation. 
There's no point in avoiding anything anymore. 
"You too." 
"You can't just kick me out--" 
"Now. Never come back." 
She shouldn't be shocked. Either way, she takes her time getting dressed and gathering her jacket which was thrown across the room earlier, no doubt during some heated foreplay. 
Just as she passes Yoongi in the doorway, she pauses. Still staring straight ahead, he grits his teeth and barely manages to keep himself composed when she speaks. 
"I liked you, Yoongi. It's not my fault you suck in bed." 
It's her lack of guilt or apology that burns more than anything. A million questions cloud his mind and judgment as she walks out, into the freezing world, the only consequence for her actions being the end of a relationship she clearly couldn't have cared less about. 
And Yoongi is left to clean up the mess she's made of his trust. 
He doesn't cry. She's not worth it. 
First, he strips his sheets and pillow cases and stacks them in his apartment sized square of green backyard. With a little motor oil and a match, he burns his best bedsheets to ash, followed by every physical picture he took with her and the scarf she accidentally left on his desk chair. 
Even with all the physical evidence gone, for now the memory of her voice, her laugh, her kiss, and her sighs are still fossilized in his brain. 
Despite having remade his bed and stacked it with fresh pillows, he still sleeps on the couch that night. 
(If staring at the ceiling and listening to the same song over and over just so he's not encased in humiliating silence is considered sleeping.)  
:: 
2 weeks later
"Hey hot stuff, ready for a new day?" 
Your stylist, who's name you've learned is Amber, tells you that you're beautiful every day. He's constantly praising you and pushing you to try new colors and hairstyles. Sometimes, when there's time before the shoot, you let him mess with your hair and play around with different makeup techniques. Amber is one of a kind and he's definitely your favorite new friend you've made since taking this job. But everyone in the office is nice to you thankfully, including the other girls. You're not best friends with any of them but they smile politely and let you use their spare hairspray when yours runs out. 
Modeling itself has gotten harder over the last few days. No longer do you envy the girls on magazine covers and commercials. The more pictures you see of yourself, the more you realize what Yoongi said is true. None of those models look exactly like themselves in the final product. Neither do you. 
But you're not quitting. You gave Yoongi your word that you would stay until all the shoots for his winter line are over. In return he offered to give you whatever outfit you like best in addition to your very generous paycheck. 
You admit the perks are nice and you get along with the staff, but it's disappointing how often you actually see Yoongi. 
Yoongi is a very busy man. You've only been modeling for about two weeks now and even you can see he's been putting a lot on himself lately. Sometimes he doesn't leave the office until early hours of the morning. You discovered this after the day you came in to surprise the team with coffee and he was still working from the night before. 
Needless to say, you made him promise to leave by midnight at the latest. And so far, he's kept to that promise, or so he texts you that he has. 
Not that you took this job because you thought you would be able to spend more time with him. But when you took this job for a totally responsible reason, you thought you would be able to spend more time with him. Luckily, you've come to discover something he has a very hard time saying no to. 
Lamb skewers. 
Knock knock 
"Come in." 
You slowly push the door open and peek your head inside. "Hey, Yoongi?" 
He looks up from his desk, his expression instantly lightens when he sees you. "___, what's up?" 
"Are you ready to go?" 
It takes him a moment to remember, but after a few blinks he catches on again. "Oh! Right, dinner. We're going to dinner, uhhh one sec." Scrambling for his things, he chuckles when he finally finds his car keys in his pocket. 
His smile is nice but something about it seems...off. 
In his car, you keep a close eye on him. Something happened. You can tell. As someone who's gone through deep shit, you've developed an ability to tell when someone else is also going through deep shit. 
Yoongi's shit is deep. 
"How was modeling today?" he asks you casually as he pulls onto the road. "I saw your newest pictures earlier. You're amazing." 
"Thanks," his compliments always make you shy. "I think I've got the hang of it but facing a camera isn't always easy." 
"Do you like it though?" 
"Yeah, I enjoy it. How's your work coming along, Producer?" you ask with a slight tease to your voice. 
He nods, as if his smile alone will carry the conversation. For whatever reason Yoongi has decided to overwork himself, whether that's to distract himself or avoid something, it's affected his social skills. He's not nearly as outspoken, confident, or involved as he used to be. The Yoongi you know is a great conversationalist and passionate and isn't afraid to save a stranger from being embarrassingly stood up on a blind date. 
This isn't the same Yoongi. 
You're not one for confrontation, but it's come to the point where Yoongi means too much to you to ignore him when he's not himself. 
"Hey, are you okay?" 
"Huh?" He glances at you innocently, as if broken from a daydream. "I'm fine." 
"You don't seem fine. Did something happen?" you ask gently, tucking your hands between your knees and shrugging as if that will make your question less invasive. 
Maybe it's not your place as his employee (technically) but you justify your actions because you're approaching him as his friend. 
Yoongi sighs, obvious conflict in his breath and subtle fidgeting. He bites his lip as if he's trying to keep himself from admitting it but he can't help himself. He really wants to talk to someone about it. And while he probably should be talking to a therapist, he really trusts you and part of him wants to share his personal life with you. 
"I broke up with my girlfriend." 
"I'm sorry." 
"Not what you were expecting, huh," he forces a laugh. 
"That's not it, I just…" you pause, thinking of the right way to form your words, "...can I ask why?" 
"She...wasn't the one for me," he hums. "I mean, things were fine at first but she thought I wasn't...well, I decided we weren't good together, so I ended things." 
You take that answer as an unwillingness to share the detailed reason of why he decided to end things with his girlfriend. Since you're in no place to push his obvious boundaries, you relax into your seat again and try to keep the conversation going without increasing the already settling awkwardness. 
"People usually assume it's hardest on the person who got broken up with. But I know what it's like to end a relationship. It's not easy. I think you're really strong for making that call." 
"That's right, you broke up with your boyfriend three years ago," Yoongi reminds himself. "I don't know much about your ex but from what you've told me, he wasn't exactly kind." 
"Not really. Sounds like your ex wasn't exactly kind either." 
"Yeah, not really," he admits with a chuckle, glancing at you with at least some form of an honest smile. "Damn, we really know how to pick em, don't we?" 
The atmosphere is lightening surprisingly well. The longer you talk, the more you share, the closer you become. Being close to Yoongi is something that you don't want to take for granted. Despite his supposedly extroverted personality, he's not the most open person when it comes to his personal life. Yoongi prefers to keep things to himself. He's a master at small talk and he's professional as hell, but he doesn't let people in very easily. You're honored to be someone who he considers trustworthy and you view him as someone safe. 
The car feels nice as you ride down the road, glancing out the window between stop lights and breaks in the conversation. Yoongi asks you about your last photoshoot and if things at the smoothie shop have wrapped up yet. He asks you lots of questions but he avoids being asked any more himself. Yoongi may appear chill on the outside, but you've picked up on a few conversational habits he has when he's trying to hide something. 
You're only two or so stops away from the restaurant when you take a moment to look out the window. 
It's instantaneous. The second your eyes land on his figure and your brain processes what it's seeing, you feel a sudden tightening in your chest and you can't breathe. 
Yoongi continues sharing about his desire to have an office karaoke night, but all sound is muffled inside your ears. You're suddenly very aware of where you are in space and what's happening around you. Every time Yoongi's elbow moves or his hand slides over the steering wheel, your whole body jerks. Your eyes stayed glued to the figure outside the car, sipping on something definitely illegal and laughing it up with a group of scruffy looking guys. 
His hair, his face, his arms, his hands, his mouth the way it moves when he speaks. It's all too familiar and it's all coming back like being hit by a three year long train. 
Daz. You thought you had emotionally prepared for the day you would inevitably see him on the street. You two live in the same city after all. But clearly, you were not ready. 
To anyone not paying attention, you seem totally calm. But when Yoongi parks the car a few minutes later and has a moment to properly look at you, he notices what's happened. 
Your cheeks are flushed pink, but not because you're cold or flustered. Your eyes are zeroed in on nothing, lips pressed thin and body frozen in place. Every few seconds, he sees the outline of your neck appear and disappear as if you're straining to breathe. 
"___," he tries to snap you out of it at first by calmly saying your name, "___?" But it doesn't work. 
He gently reaches over to you, but as soon as his hand comes into your peripheral vision, you jump out of your seat, mouth gasping for breath and eyes spilling tears as you instinctively slap his hand away. In a split second, you're cowering by the door, grip clenched onto the safety handle and body pressed against the cold glass. 
"It's just me, hey, it's okay." But no matter how many times Yoongi insists everything is alright, everything does not feel all right to you. 
After briefly discussing your ex, memories of your relationship and reasons for your breakup resurfaced. The feelings you had at the time of those memories also returned and floated at the surface of your emotional capacity. Looking out the window and unexpectedly seeing your ex on the side of the street, casually laughing and living life as if nothing had happened, sent you over the edge. 
Yoongi takes a long, hard look at his hand, the skin on the back of it turning red where you slapped it. 
"___, it's just me. You're okay. I'm not gonna hurt you." He carefully shows you his palms, offering you his hands before trying to touch you again. 
You nod quickly, still slightly out of breath but you're recognizing the situation now, so that's a good sign. 
"Breathe with me, ___," he leads you to take deep, gentle breaths, in through your nose and out your mouth. While it helps momentarily, you can still feel the panic in each veins of your body. 
His soft hand comes in contact with your elbow and he gives it a gentle squeeze. You don't jump away, so he feels okay leaving it there. 
"Can you tell me what you need right now?" 
"Remind me what we're doing." 
"I'm taking you to dinner, remember? Lamb skewers because they're my favorite. Your favorite food is fruit, right?" 
"Yeah." 
"I like fruit too. I'll buy some later, does that sound okay?" 
"Yeah." Your grip on the safety bar slowly releases just long enough for you to take hold of Yoongi's hand. You unbuckle yourself and take another deep breath. "Keep talking to me, please." 
"Okay, umm." Yoongi licks his lips while he thinks of what to talk about. "I fell on my ass this morning." 
"What?" 
"When I stepped outside, I wasn't paying attention and I slipped on a patch of ice. Landed right on my ass." 
You gasp and sputter, eyes misty with fresh tears. "Did it hurt?" 
"Oh yeah, I choked. The ice on the concrete cracked too," Yoongi chuckles faintly. But his expression turns confused when tears start spilling from your eyes again. 
Before Yoongi can even process what happened, you're crying in his passenger seat, face buried in your hands and shoulders shaking, you're so upset. 
"Did I say something wrong?" he asks hurriedly. 
You just shake your head, voice small and broken, "It must have hurt a lot to fall on your ass like that. I’m sorry you fell down. Falling down hurts a lot,” you sniffle, words barely understandable through your cries. “It hurts, Yoongi, it hurts a lot.” 
In a moment of something, Yoongi isn't sure exactly what, he pulls you into his lap and tucks your head into his shoulder, cradling you nicely against his chest and hushing words of serenity against your hair. 
"I'm okay now, I promise. I know it hurts but I’ve got you. I got you. You’re okay.”   
He really shouldn't be surprised. People can experience any number of emotional waves after a panic attack like that. He's just never seen anyone cry so seriously over something admittedly hilarious. 
After a few moments of him petting your head and rubbing your back, you start to feel yourself calm down again. With your legs straddling his waist and your chest leaning against his body, it's a comfortable place to catch your breath.
His touch is soothing and nothing like your ex's. He continues whispering into your ear, wrapping his arms around you to give you a secure hug every now and then. It only proves to instill a calmness and appreciation in your bones. Yoongi feels you take a final deep breath before you push off his shoulder to sit up, your head brushing the ceiling of his car. 
"...sorry," you mutter and try to crawl back into your seat. 
But Yoongi holds you where you are with firm yet gentle hands around your waist. "Stay right here for now. You're still shaken up." 
"Sorry." 
"Why are you apologizing so much? You have nothing to be sorry for." 
He opens the lid to his middle console and pulls out a spare napkin. After wrapping it around his finger, he carefully uses it to dry the line of tears on your cheeks. Then he wraps it around your nose. 
"Blow." 
It's a little embarrassing but you're not in a position to turn his kindness away. So you blow. 
"There we go. Better?" 
You nod, sniffling when he tosses the napkin away and brushes the hair from your face. 
Yoongi sighs, relaxing into his seat and dropping his hands into his lap in between you. "Just breathe for a moment. We're not in any rush. Take all the time you need." 
You don't mind taking some extra time to steady yourself. It's the fact that this man has pulled you into his lap and now you're sitting here, flustered not only from seeing your ex but also because Yoongi's looking at you as if you're his entire world and he wants to take care of you. 
Something clicked in his mind and, while he may think you didn't notice, the subtle change in his facial expression suggests Yoongi just realized something he's not saying. 
"___, do you wanna go back to my place?" 
"Huh?" 
"I don't really feel like eating out anymore. Should we just order to go and eat at my place instead?" 
Really, you should give this more thought. But your mind and body are so tired. If this was anyone else you would have had to force yourself to think rationally, but since it's Yoongi, you feel safe letting your guard drop completely.
Guess once you walk inside his doors, you'll discover if abandoning rationality was wise or not. 
"Sure. That sounds nice." 
:: 
His apartment isn't exactly what you would have expected from a CEO who owns a car as fancy as his. It's uncharacteristically simple for someone so rich. Also the scorch marks in his grass out back must have a story to tell but you're not sure you can ask about that yet. 
Yoongi steps inside behind you. "Oh, hold on one sec." 
He slips around you and collects some spare slippers from the closet. Placing them in front of your feet, he helps you slip them on before standing and smiling at you. "Good?" 
They're several sizes too big but you can't complain. They're soft. "Yeah. Good." 
"Good." 
He makes his way to the living room with your food in hand and you follow. 
There's a chance Yoongi was smiling at the size difference of your feet in his shoes and the way you shuffle across the floor in an attempt not to trip over them...but then again, he could have been smiling at anything. 
"Do you like sauce?" 
"Mhm," you nod politely, now sitting on the couch with hands folded in your lap. 
Yoongi eyes your straight back and flat feet. He hasn't had to tell someone to relax at his place in what feels like forever. His ex never hesitated to take advantage of anything and everything in his apartment. You're not anything like his ex but he habitually expected you to be automatically comfortable. 
"Relax." 
"Sorry," you apologize, as if the word is on standby on your tongue. 
Then again, he wasn't expecting to be this awkward himself. Suddenly, Yoongi drops his task of preparing the food and turns to face you on the couch. 
"Don't apologize to me anymore. You're always saying that word." 
He's annoyed. He seems really annoyed. Shut up. 
"Sorry. I mean--" you gasp, slapping your lips. "Okay." 
Shit, now you're even more stiff. 
"I just mean, you don't need to be so...professional around me." 
"Okay…" you reply slowly, eyes blinking while you try to process what he's implying. 
What's happening? Yoongi used to be so good at this; he's never struggled making people comfortable or conveying his thoughts before. Suddenly you're in his apartment sitting on his couch and he can't even articulate his words. You've made him increasingly nervous ever since he foolishly held you in his lap and cuddled you close to his heart. 
"Look, ___, I really like hanging out with you. It's crazy how easy it is to talk to you and I feel like we get along really well. You make me feel comfortable, so I want you to feel comfortable around me too." 
"I am comfortable." 
"Are you?" 
"Yeah," you answer, shyly tucking your hair behind your ear. "I'm sorry I have a habit of saying sorry. I'll try not to say it so much since it bothers you." 
Just from the way you said that makes Yoongi believe you used to say things like that to your ex a lot. Immediately, he harbors an even deeper hate for the word sorry. 
"No, I'm not nit picking, I just want you to feel good around me, like you don't have to apologize for anything. What I mean is, your ex was a jerk but I would never treat you like that. Fuck this, I want to be close to you, closer than we are now, but I'm not sure how to go about doing that. I haven't been single in a while so I might be out of practice at this sort of thing." 
As your mind translates Yoongi's words, you manage to pick out a message that he could have or couldn't have meant. There's a lot of ways to take the idea that Yoongi wants to be closer to you. Side by side on his couch, alone in his apartment, this late at night, your brain can only process so much at once. 
Yoongi shifts nearer to your side of the couch, his knee centimeters away from brushing your skin. 
With absolutely no warning, he leans into you and places a small kiss on your cheek. 
"___?" 
"Umm, yeah?" 
"This probably feels random, but please understand I've liked you since I met you so it's not really random at all." 
Your lungs fill slowly and then you shakily exhale, watching him carefully. Thoughts swim behind your eyes, thoughts Yoongi would give anything to read. 
"What about your ex?" you ask quietly. 
"My ex was a controlling, emotionally manipulative, dishonest bitch. You're nothing like her," he assures you. "You're human." 
"Yoongi," he manages to pull a small, breathless chuckle from your lungs. 
You hold your breath after saying his name, fighting the part of you that wants to fall head first into whatever this could end up being. "You just broke up. And yeah she was a controlling, emotionally manipulative, dishonest bitch but...you just broke up." 
"Two whole weeks ago, what's your point?" 
He gives you a simple, devastatingly beautiful smirk and tilts his head so you have no choice but to notice how undeniably adorable his bangs are flopping over his eyes like that. 
"The point is you're still healing." 
"You broke up with your ex three years ago and you're still healing," he urges, tempting you with a brush of his fingers against your hand. In his eyes, you can see a glistening hint of tears fighting to breach his usually cool exterior. "I don't want to wait until I'm okay because honestly I don't think I'm gonna be okay for a long time. But you make me feel like...like everything really is becoming okay again." 
His words break you to pieces, tearing down the logical part of you that screams this is a bad way to begin a relationship. There can't be any stability in being with someone just because they take your mind off the mental stress and trauma your last relationship left behind. Right? 
"You know I can't magically fix everything, right?" 
"I know that. But we could comfort each other? Nobody has ever understood me like you do, and I feel like I understand you too." He bravely takes your hand, double checking with his eyes that he's not overstepping any boundaries. He gives your hand a squeeze and says, "I promise to always treat you with respect and be there when you need someone to make you laugh or let you cry. I want to take care of you, ___. Let me." 
You swallow, purely drawn into his gaze and words, the way his lips move when he speaks, the breathy character of his voice. He's so vulnerable and raw right now. The sight alone makes your heart clench and each time his eyes rake over the delicate features of your face, you feel your insides flutter unhealthily fast. 
And you knew it would come to this. Eventually you were going to date someone after Daz and it would be hard and you would question yourself. But you never expected someone like Yoongi, someone so intellectual and present and gentle and willing. He's practically perfect, so perfect he scares you a little. 
There's an understanding here. If you let Yoongi take care of you, then you'll also take care of him. He's got a point, you do understand him very well. When you broke up with Daz, that's all you wanted. You just needed someone to make you feel like everything was becoming okay, because you didn't feel okay. You felt like hell. 
Right now, Yoongi feels like hell. His last girlfriend left him with a massive scar and it's still bleeding. While most of his offer comes from a place of pain and desperation for comfort, you do believe part of it is genuine attraction. There was a small piece of you that believed he liked you even before he broke up with his ex. That affection is no doubt still there, it's just currently being drowned beneath the waves of his break up. 
Is it enough though? Should you take this chance that you and Yoongi are meant to be, just maybe not meant to last? You can't see this being something stable long term right now, but perhaps it could be what you both need in the moment. Timing isn't kind, but you know Yoongi is. 
"I…" 
He's patient, eyes glued to you, wide and waiting. 
"...I'd really like that," as soon as you say it, you can't help but smile. "Take care of me, Yoongi. And I'll take care of you too." 
He mimics your smile, sighing deeply when you fall forward over his shoulders. His hug is a warm, safe place, and when his arms wrap around your middle, they're a strong fortress for the weak walls of your heart. 
His lips press to your ear and he whispers to you with the most sincerity you've ever heard from anyone, "I promise I'll protect you from whatever, ___. Lean on me and I'll hold you as tightly as you need me to, okay?" 
"Okay." 
:: 
Never once did either of you mention the titles boyfriend or girlfriend. And much to your initial relief, Yoongi hasn't been acting as if you own the titles. Although he is more openly attentive and he's gotten more physically affectionate, he hasn't shown you off or gone around telling everyone about your new relationship dynamic. Which is nice. 
You feel much more at ease knowing Yoongi is okay with you hanging around. He's pulled you next to him on more than one occasion, commented on your modeling as more than just your producer, and it's become a regular expectation to eat together almost every day. 
Outside of the public eye, the two of you are pretty much the same as before except you spend a surprising amount of time at Yoongi's apartment. You've gotten comfortable napping on his couch--he never lets you sleep in his bedroom. As much as he insists he's over his ex, little things remind you he's not completely okay. He also keeps your favorite snacks in bulk in his pantry and a spare change of your clothes in the top drawer of his dresser. 
On the other hand, it's been a few weeks since you started…whatever you started together. It does bother you somewhat that there's no title for your relationship. You're used to being tied to the other person by either a title or at least some kind of label. 
Suppose the absence of a title is significantly less stressful. You both know that neither of you are seeing other people in the meantime. That's what matters. 
And while the emotional comfort is nice, you wonder why he hasn't attempted any more romantic affiliation when you know it's a core love language for him. Is it because of your lack of a girlfriend title or does he really only see this as a way to comfort himself since his last relationship ended so suddenly? 
You're not materialistic and you're not a hoe. But…it's confusing how much it feels like you're in a romantic relationship, just without the romance. 
He doesn't really like you as much as he said. Shut up. 
He doesn't think you're sexy. Shut up. 
You're not as pretty as his ex, that's why. Shut up! 
Amber greets you when you step inside the building, a welcoming grin and his trademark jazz hands. 
"Babe! You're early today!" 
"Early bird catches the worm, right? Is Yoongi here yet?" 
"He was," Amber says while watching the front doors. "I think he went on a coffee run or something. At least, I asked him to bring me back a vanilla latte when I saw him leaving." 
You reply simply and nod, not too much worry on the surface of your casual expression. Amber sits you down and starts on your makeup while you discreetly send Yoongi a good morning text. 
You're almost done being prepped for the photoshoot when the front doors part and in walks your producer with a single cup of coffee in his hand. 
He enters in slow motion, checking his Rolex like the flex that it is and running tempting fingers through his silky hair. His suit is pressed and dark and makes him look built and powerful. The sheer authority he exudes is unfairly sexy, every step he takes being your new favorite because it's bringing him that much closer to where you are. 
It’s taken you three years being single and three months of being Yoongi’s model, but you’re finally to the point where you feel ready for something really serious. And you want that something serious with Yoongi. 
"Hi guys," he greets with a confident nod and hands Amber his coffee. 
"Bless you, Min Yoongi," the stylist gawks. He takes a sip and you swear he would fall on his knees for Yoongi if he asked. 
"___, I need to talk to you before you leave. When the shoot is over, will you come into my office?" 
"Of course," you have no reason to refuse him. 
The shoot goes well. All the usual things you expect, bright lights, a flashing camera, Amber flirting with the camera guy. You've become rather comfortable being here like this. Several issues of the latest magazine have been published and, as weird as it is to think about, you appear on several pages. As far as you understand, the magazine has been well accepted and local department store sales have increased at a satisfying rate. 
It doesn't take long to finish today. Thankfully, you only had four changes and very minor makeup touch ups throughout. Amber finished his coffee about half way through and grew continually more grumpy as the shoot went on, but it was humorous. You know he could never hurt a fly but the way he talks big game is entertaining for sure. 
As everyone wraps up the day, you finish changing back into street clothes and make your way to Yoongi's main office. 
Knock knock~ 
“Come in,” you hear him through the wood and peek your head inside. He smiles when he sees you and immediately stands to usher you past the threshold. “___, yeah hey, are you done for the day?" 
"Mhm. You wanted to see me?" 
"Yes. Come on in, please. I need to discuss your contract with you.” 
This is producer Yoongi. He’s in work mode right now. So, you decide to hold onto your work persona for a few more minutes.  
"Right. What do you need from me?" You take your place in front of his desk while Yoongi sits back down, folding his hands politely and looking up at you. 
"Your seasonal position as our winter model will end come the 31st of this month. The company will move its focus to summer and we'll start interviewing and hiring models for the summer line." He pauses, waiting to see if you already can tell where he's going with this. "I know you said before that you wouldn't consider being a summer model, but now that you've been here for some time, I thought it couldn't hurt to ask you again. ___, what would you say if I offered you a full time position?" 
"For the summer?" you clarify. 
"For until you decide you don't want to model anymore,” he says with much anticipation. “Full time means this would be your primary job. You'd get a pay raise and more photoshoots on your calendar, not to mention you would have access to company benefits, so a personal nutritionist and dietary specialist, gym membership, paid days off, discounts, a retirement fund." 
You slowly nod, the list ever growing in your mind, and while they’re all great things, so far none of that stuff can beat down your anxiety about modeling for a summer wardrobe. 
"That's a lot of benefits." 
He drinks in your body language and translates your need for reassurance. Of course, he's more than willing to be that for you. 
Yoongi quickly moves around his desk and comes to you, gently taking your hands and interlocking your fingers. The distance between your bodies shrinks until he's so close you fear he can hear your heartbeat picking up pace. The Work Yoongi mask falls to the ground as he watches your face, eyes bouncing from your hair to your lips and back to your eyes. 
"If you don't take the job, our relationship won't change,” he whispers to you, “so don't worry about that. I'm offering you this position as your producer, because I honestly believe you're an amazing worker and model.” 
"Really?" 
"Yes. And the public loves you too by the way,” he adds as a final attempt to entice you. “But if you don’t want to, just say so. It's your choice. I won’t be mad, I promise." 
The fact that he made that promise without any implication from you that that’s what you were afraid of gives you the surety for you to say what’s on your mind. Your heart beats a thousand times per second, being this close to him, sharing the same air, meeting his gaze, feeling secure holding his hands. If you weren’t so caught up in his proposition, you could very easily find yourself caught up in his ambiance. 
"I just don't feel comfortable doing the summer line. I'm sorry." 
"That’s okay,” he immediately responds, nodding along with you and smiling in spite of your no doubt disappointing answer. “Thanks for being willing to model the winter line. You were amazing and perfect." 
"Thank you for the opportunity." You step  back to bow very respectfully. 
He tries to keep a straight face but you're just so damn adorable to him and he doesn't have the will or resolve to keep his adoration for you to himself. 
"Now that all the professional shit is out of the way," he sings, "I have something very important to tell you." 
"What is it?" 
A shy smile starts creeping across his lips and he slowly sneaks his hands to your waist to pull you close again. He doesn't blush often but when he does it's beyond adorable and you feel like taking a polaroid so you can capture and keep it forever. 
"I missed you today," he confesses. "Like a lot. So much I thought I might die." 
That's it? That's his something important? It flatters you to the point of losing your breath. And it's not even his words that have your lungs spasming and your toes curling in on themselves.
Yoongi has complete disregard for the outside world. Right here, right now, it's just you and him. Everything else is inconsequential. 
His palms slide smoothly up the curve of your waist. They slip to your lower back, mapping your measurements and committing them to memory as they go. The second he has the opportunity, he jerks you forward, your chest colliding with his body and forcing you to stumble into him. 
Looking into his eyes now, hands clutching you balance in fists on his chest, you hear it. His heartbeat. It's so fast. 
"I missed you too." Your whispered confession only proves to make his heart beat that much louder. "Actually, I need to talk to you about something too. Can we have dinner at your place or mine?" 
"What's wrong?" 
"Nothing's wrong," you quickly assure him. "I just...have something on my mind and wanna talk to you about it." 
He seems slightly nervous, which is understandable. But nevertheless, Yoongi nods and agrees to have dinner at his place tonight. He even offers to pick up your favorite sushi on the way home, a gentleman's gesture as if to say he's not worried about your upcoming conversation. 
But maybe he should be. You're not exactly sure how this is gonna go. 
:: 
"What did you do?" you immediately ask when you step into his humble abode, the scent of lemon and pine filling your nostrils. 
He chuckles shamelessly, "What are you talking about?"
"It's so...clean." 
Cleaner than you've ever seen his place before. Even last weekend it wasn't this nice. Not to say that Yoongi is a slob, actually the opposite is true. But ever since he broke up with his ex, his apartment seemed to be taking most of the hit in terms of hygiene.
But now. Wow. 
"You know you didn't have to clean for me." 
"I know. I cleaned for me, well, for both of us," he shrugs. "Besides, it's nice to have a clean apartment again. Feels like things are back to normal finally." 
Yoongi follows you into the kitchen where you begin handing out plates and cups for dinner. He rubs a shy hand over his neck and mocks his earlier shameless chuckle. 
"I'm feeling a lot better," he says simply. His eyes on your profile suggest you're the reason why but he leaves that comment silent, to keep for himself for the time being. 
"I'm really happy to hear that!" You offer him a gentle smile and make him carry half the sushi to the living room where you'll eat together. "Come on, let's eat. I'm starving." 
Conversations with Yoongi are easy. Words flow off your tongue and into his ears effortlessly. And when he speaks, your attention naturally zeros in on his voice. Even with stretched cheeks stuffed with dragon sushi rolls and soy sauce, you both feel a sense of comfort in each other's company that you haven't felt with anyone else. 
That should mean something, shouldn't it? The longer you put off what you came here for, the more your mind wants to consider staying like this. Do you really need to have a conversation about your relationship? Can't you be happy in this limbo, reclining somewhere between friends and something more? 
The moment Yoongi doubles over, trying not to choke on his fried rice due to your sudden sarcastic comment, you realize that...no. You can't be. You want more. As scary as it may be, you're ready to move onto something new, something serious. 
Yoongi starts to clean up when you're finished eating. Taking a big breath, you stand as well, grabbing the last of your dishes. 
"So, about the thing I wanted to talk about--Oh! Sorry..." you giggle when Yoongi turns around only to run into you at the threshold of the kitchen. 
The two of you go back and forth, side to side, trying to avoid a collision but you're too in sync. Every time you move left, so does he. So you move right, and so does he. 
"Wanna dance?" he jests, making you smile again. 
"I'd love to." 
It was a joke. You were playing along as one does when awkwardness threatens to rear its ugly head. It was supposed to be a passing reply and then you continued on to the kitchen to help wash dishes. 
So, one could imagine your surprise when Yoongi suddenly snatches the dishes from your hands only to toss them aside. 
"My lady," he bows. 
"Huh?" 
But he just laughs and sweeps you into his arms, one hand clutched in yours and the other wrapped around your lower back. His feet begin gliding across the kitchen tile and you have no choice but to follow his lead. With a gasp, you grip his shoulder with your other hand and hang on for dear life. 
You're very much out of your comfort zone here, but you don't have the will to stop this, not when Yoongi looks this domestically happy. 
While you're struggling not to fall flat on your face, Yoongi is laughing. Precious, beautiful giggles like specks of golden music filling the space and landing softly against your ears. 
You step on his foot more than once but he doesn't say anything, despite your relentless apologizing. Dancing has never been your strong suit, but somehow Yoongi makes it enjoyable. Because he doesn't dance well either. 
There's no music, but that doesn't deter Yoongi. He fills the silence with soft la la la's and ba da da's to guide your terrible rhythm. And no matter how stiff or how unconventional your dance moves, he doesn't take his eyes off your ever growing smile. That smile of yours...that's his victory. 
He dances you towards the living room, getting faster and faster despite your inability to keep up with him. You gasp again when he suddenly spins you around only to bring you back to himself. His hands catch you by the waist and your world comes to a sudden halt. Instinctively, you grip his shirt as a lifeline when your chests collide, lost for breath but so is he. 
Everything is still for a moment. The funny part is that you don't even realize you're biting your lip in concentration. But damn, Yoongi does. 
"You're a terrible dancer." 
His comment breaks your daze. "So are you." 
But your lack of skill must not mean too much considering his hips begin to sway naturally, enticing you to do the same. Soon enough, you're relaxing into a slow dance, one much easier to follow than whatever polka waltz quick step chaos you were swept into before. There's still a lack of music but neither of you seem bothered by it. 
You sigh, finally able to catch your breath. He holds onto you as if he'll always be here and you're tempted to start believing in something totally reckless. 
"So," Yoongi mutters gently through the hypnotic atmosphere intruding on your minds and hearts, "what do you need to talk to me about?" 
Does he know? Can he read your mind? His smirk suggests he can. 
"Umm, well, it's something I've been thinking about lately...about us," you start with fluttering eyelids. 
"You have my complete and utter attention." Anyone can look at the focus in his eyes and tell he's being terrifyingly honest. 
Rolling your lips, you prepare the rapid beating muscle in your chest for the rollercoaster you're willingly climbing into.
But as hard as you may try to be concise, everything tumbles out as an incoherent stutter due to nervousness and the admiring look in Yoongi's gaze. "I think that…well, I know that I really like you and having you with me like this is really amazing, but...I feel like we've been dancing around something for a while and--at least I've been and...I'm scared but also I don't want to ignore it anymore." 
He smiles at you, innocent and ignorant. "What's that?" 
You bravely peck his lips suddenly and he freezes, stunned completely motionless. 
"The lack of romance in our romantic relationship. I mean, maybe I misunderstood what you meant when you said you wanted us to take care of each other and you didn't want a romantic relationship at all, but if I'm not wrong then I really really want--" 
His lips are on you in an instant, a deep inhale through his nose to bring you as close as physically possible and take in every part of you he can in a single moment. Pulling you impossibly close to himself, it doesn't take much encouragement to get your arms around his shoulders. 
He holds you steady there, supporting your body while his kiss makes a mess of your unsuspecting lips, milking every moment he can for everything it's worth because holy shit he's kissing you...finally. 
Not that he means to compare you, because it's impossible to measure how much you mean to him against anyone or anything else, but damn, the way you make his heart feel so full after it's been so emptied. Just the fact that you initiated this by kissing him first and the delicate, shy way you kiss him back--it feels as though you want him to kiss you, as opposed to tolerating his affection, and that is so special to him for so many reasons. 
When you decide to take a peak, you see his brow furrowed in intense concentration as his lips move professionally against your own. And when you push into his kiss, gripping his biceps to hang onto him, his expression reflects the absolute euphoria you instill in his bones, eyelids fluttering while closed tightly. Enamored by your wonderful person and ability to make him feel so strong yet so weak at the same time, Yoongi can't help but want you in every way possible. 
Your eyes float shut, completely encased in the feeling of his arms picking you up and supporting under your legs. You're sitting on clouds. 
Your kiss is separated only for a moment when Yoongi lowers onto the couch and proceeds to set you onto his lap, knees straddling him familiarly. He sighs when your body relaxes into him, chest on chest, your cute little ass on his thighs. He never thought to appreciate the tremors of warmth one gets from supporting someone else's weight on their body but now, he's committed it to memory. He's slowly committing you to memory. 
You haven't made out with anyone in three years but so far everything is basically the same. Desperate clinging of hands on hips and shoulders, sighs against kisses, nearly invisible smiles sneaked in-between delicate whispers of names and wishes. 
"I've wanted to kiss you for so long…" 
"Really?" 
"Desperately." 
"Your voice changed." You didn't mean to point it out, the words just spilled as you took in every detail of his being. 
With lips still ghosting and bodies nearly floating, he smiles as if he's already aware that his voice dropped four octaves and it sends shivers down your spine. 
"Is it a good change? You like it when my voice drops like this?" 
You nod, pecking at his top lip to lead your two mouths back into a smooth rhythm. Like a dance you've been doing for years, you fall back into a comfortable pace. 
"That's just what you do to me, ___. Fuck, you're amazing." 
It's not his fault. It's yours. Because you're so goddamn irresistible to him and he can't help his human need to feel skin on skin, even if it's just his fingertips. His head gets high off the drug in your kiss, so his heart is all that's left to call the shots. And his heart has a direct line to his hands, they go where they feel you should be held. 
You jerk when his palms slide under your top, onto the bare skin of your ribs. It doesn't matter how gentle he is, how soft his hands are, or how special his intentions. You can't help but squirm. 
"Sorry," you immediately apologize when the kiss is forced to a premature stop, sighing in frustration at yourself. 
His hands have already removed themselves, hovering over your body now. "No, I should have asked before I just stuck my hands under your shirt like that. I'm the one who's sorry." 
"I just...I should say something." 
"Okay, say whatever you need to, baby." 
"This is the most romantic we've been since we became...okay, that's the thing. We promised to protect each other, but what does that mean?" 
He flashes you a confused but willing smile. "What exactly are you asking me for?" 
You swallow, fingers fidgeting with the loose strings of his sweatpants. With attempted courage, you look into his eyes and say, "A title." 
There you said it. Good god, you're terrified. The last time you held a title, it was mistreated beyond forgiveness. And yet here you are, asking for it once again. While some may say you haven't learned anything, this is actually you proving it is possible to come out of a difficult and painful trauma stronger and more sure of what you deserve. Because this time you're asking for it from someone strong but gentle. Powerful but compassionate.
"But you're already my girlfriend." 
"I am?" 
He blinks at you. "Of course, you are. We've been dating for weeks now, ___, wasn't that obvious?" 
You shrug, embarrassed. "We never said the words girlfriend and boyfriend, so I didn't know. I'm sorry." 
He nods, gently stroking the hair beside your ear. "You don't need to be sorry. This is just the kind of stuff you learn about each other when you're in a relationship. I'll work on being more direct about stuff from now on, okay?" 
His words relax you a bit, your legs falling lax across his lap and your hips rolling comfortably over his hips. 
Up until this point, Yoongi has attempted to keep himself to himself, for the sake of your comfort of course. He knows you get nervous about that kind of stuff and he wants to respect you more than anything because he feels like your ex never did. You're such a special person to him, more so than he's willingly admitted, and while you may not be aware of the mental battle he fights, you must be aware of how desperate he is for you. 
"Okay. Umm, Yoongi?" 
"Yeah?" he responds casually, still allowing you to sit prettily on his lap. 
"What do I need to work on?" 
He taps his chin and hums thoughtfully. "Taking initiative maybe? You're brave, I know you are, so go after what you want. Whether that's taking up some random stranger's offer to be a model--" you chuckle when he winks at you, "--or calling out your coworker for dumping their workload on you all the time. You know you deserve better, so you just need to trust yourself." 
"Trust myself," you repeat quietly, "go after what I want…" 
You lean forward to kiss him again, small fingers spread across his cheeks and jawline, guiding him into a sensual and tasteful rhythm. Only this time, your body rocks in time with your lips and your tongue flicks over his bottom lip, as if to tease desire into his heart and soul. 
He instantly reacts to taste you fully. It's hard not to smile when he parts his lips for you and releases an involuntary whine. It does loads for your confidence though, giving you that extra something needed to run your fingers through his hair. 
He's hesitating. Even though you initiated this, he's the one holding back. You can feel his fingers fidgeting with the edge of your sweater, slowly dipping beneath to feel your skin and then quickly pulling the fabric back down again. 
"___, we don't have to do anything you don't want to," he pulls away from your lips to say, "please don't feel like you have to do anything just because I advised you to take more initiative." 
"I'm trusting myself and I trust you. I'm going to go after what I want. I want this. I want you, Min Yoongi." 
You have to be aware by now of Yoongi's desire to protect those he loves. It's a part of his natural person, his overall character. The fact that you feel not only safe with him but that you're willing to expose your heart and body to him in this way means more to him than you realize at this moment. 
"Should we take this to the bedroom then?" 
"Your bedroom?" You're not necessarily nervous to be taking this step, you're more so surprised since Yoongi usually makes you avoid that space. "Are you sure?" 
Instead of answering, Yoongi scoops his hands under your thighs and stands up, bringing you along with him. 
As he walks to the back, you feel a sudden sense of wonder. He's so wonderful. The way he smiles so genuinely at you, the way he gently sits you on the bed, the way he kisses your forehead as he guides you to lay down. 
His shirt is the first piece of clothing to be discarded, followed by his sweatpants and then...then it's your turn. 
"May I have the honors?" Of undressing you. Of course he wants to undress you, sex happens naked. 
You nod, small but permissive. 
Sitting up, you allow him to strip your shirt over your head. As if he knew you would be self-conscious, he quickly dives in for a momentary kiss, barely giving you a chance to take in the world once the fabric is gone. He reaches behind your back to undo your bra, forehead leaning against yours. 
It's cold without your clothes, but Yoongi stays close enough to keep you warm. 
"Feeling okay?" 
You nod, grateful for his check-ins even if they do feel a little like you're in high school. It's the fact that he's willing to take this so slowly just for you, even when you can look at his boxers and immediately tell his dick is not wanting to take things slow. 
Your hand finds its way to his crotch, feeling him over the fabric and he hisses at the welcomed pressure. As if triggered by your touch, Yoongi hovers over you, grinding into your palm as his lips find your neck in sweet foreplay. 
But it's all he can do not to thrust into your hand because fuck how can a handjob over his boxers feel this damn good? 
Perhaps a little rougher than he intended, he pins both your wrists beside your head, opting to grind his cock between your thighs instead. To your instinctive surprise, your legs desperately split in an attempt to have him closer, your knee bending to create a smoother angle for him. 
Your gasp has him smirking, utterly obsessed with the cute sounds you make when he falls into the lines of your body. Your head tilts, immediately offering him all that you can while he slides your hands above your head. With a beautiful, proper, purple bruise branded on your skin now, Yoongi massages kisses over your collarbones and throat, down the valley of your breasts, until he's traveled the entire length of your torso. 
You may twitch and squirm, shift and jerk in his grasp, but you whimper pitifully when his lips ghost your sensitive nipple and his strong hands hold you exactly where you need to be. It's at this moment you realize, his kisses are not random. They've landed on each of your scars, caressing each stretch mark and each imperfection, not a single inch unkissed, because all of you deserves to be praised in this way. He honestly believes that. 
"Are you still okay, baby?" 
"Yes," you whisper softly as he comes to kiss your nose. That's when he notices the tears in your eyes. "Thank you for being so kind to me." 
"You deserve to be treated like this," he says plainly, hands carefully sliding your pants and underwear down your legs until they're tossed to the floor. "You're so fucking beautiful, ___. Inside and out. Let me show you how much I respect and care about you." 
With his head between your legs now, he uses his ridiculously strong hands to hold your thighs apart or else they may crush his skull. The first contact has you lifting off the bed, back arching and lungs filling to the max. He doesn't wait to dive in, no easing into this one. He makes a path with his tongue across your slit and sucks your clit between his lips, mouth moving as if he were kissing you like a desperate teenager tasting their first sip of addictively sweet alcohol. 
Pausing only to swallow, Yoongi ruins any chance you had left at modesty. If you were planning on being the cute, shy sub throughout all of this, those plans are long gone. The sounds coming from deep in your throat are borderline pornographic, his name mixed with every profanity you know spilling into the air and painting a picture of pure ecstasy. 
"Does it feel good?" he asks you between his brutal makeout. 
You can't barely form coherent words at this point but you manage a strangled, "Yes! It, mnhmm it feels really good. Your tongue is, oh fuck right there! Yoongi, that's my...ahh-h!" 
He smirks against your heat, humming satisfactorily and sending vibrations shooting through your muscles and pushing you closer to the edge with every expert move of his goddamn mouth. Your fingers grip his hair and pull until his roots are sore, until he has to forcefully remove your hand and pin it to the mattress. 
His teeth graze your clit, only briefly because in the next moment his wet sinful tongue penetrates your cunt, twisting and drawing disgustingly pleasurable pictures against your walls, fucking you agonizingly slowly with the thick, wet muscle. 
"Ah! Y-Yoongi, you can't just suddenly--shit, I'm gonna…I'm gonna cum." 
It doesn't take long to tip you over the edge. The first orgasm you've had in three years and it's on Min Yoongi's tongue. He draws out your moans professionally, drinking up your arousal like a man dying of thirst. 
You lay there, nearly completely spent as he crawls his way up your body, leaving damp trademarks in the shape of his lips across your skin. 
"How was that, babygirl?" he asks with a curve to his brow, cocky but there's a hint of sincere concern in his voice. 
"Amazing," you sigh, body still slightly trembling in the aftermath of your pleasure. 
"Really? You really liked it?" 
"Yes," you moan, pulling him down to kiss your smile just to reinforce how utterly happy he's made you. His lips on yours are the only things keeping you from confessing something potentially catastrophic right now. 
Despite there still being a hint of pleasure pulsing between your legs, your hips are already rocking and rolling in search of the friction they now know Yoongi is willing and more than capable of providing. Your hands end up trailing their way to his ass in hopes he'll press further into you. 
He sighs at the feeling, allowing you to hold him as close as you wish, resting some of his weight onto you and filling himself with your scent and taste until all that's left is you. You and your beautifully addictive essence. 
As you kiss the eagerness between your bodies grows. Yoongi strips his boxers, giving you the first look at his naked body and how mesmerizingly gorgeous he is. 
He places a small pillow underneath your lower back and one behind your head, brushing your hair from your face and leaving a few grateful and sensual kisses to your temple. His cock aligns with your entrance, teasing your clit for a moment and then returning to its tempting waiting place. 
"Ready?" he asks, already completely breathless.
"Yes, please," you reply with another kiss to his face, combing your fingers into his hair and brushing back his bangs so they don't hang over your eyes. 
But he doesn't move. He hovers over you there, feeling the urge to sink deep inside you but he can't make himself rock forward. 
"Sorry," he tries to play it off with a chuckle and takes another deep breath. "Okay, here we go." 
You feel the bare tip of his swollen cock penetrate you, the stretch barely starting to burn as he shifts himself deeper into you. You gasp, subconsciously spreading your thighs and closing your eyes as you drink in the feeling. 
But he doesn't get half way inside you before he's suddenly pulling out. 
"Shit, I'm sorry," he sighs, rolling to his back beside you, heels of his palms pressed to his eyes. 
Confused and with your body suddenly exposed and abandoned, your limbs curl in on themselves. 
His head shakes back and forth, frustrated and haunted by the disturbing sound of her voice echoing throughout his thoughts. 
"Yoongi?" You carefully roll to your side, legs closing and body cold without his warmth and weight over you. "What's wrong?" 
His arms drop to the sheets, punching the mattress in utter distress as a stray tear slides it's way down the side of his face. Your entire chest sinks into your stomach. 
"I can't get her out of my head." 
Somehow you know immediately who her is. 
"You're thinking about your ex while in bed with me?" 
"No!" he instantly corrects you, rolling to face you on his side too. "No, not like that at all." 
"Then what's wrong?" 
Remembering his promise to be more direct, Yoongi takes a moment to catch his breath, sitting up against the headboard. 
"The truth is I dumped my ex after I found out she cheated on me." 
"Oh no…" 
This is news. You were under the impression he dumped her because she was mean or, as Yoongi said before, she wasn't the one. Kneeling beside him on the bed now, a gentle hand reaching out to hold his fingers, you let him confess what he's kept from you up until this point, judgment free. 
"Apparently, my ex only cheated because I didn't, umm, I couldn't satisfy her. And now I'm really worried that..." His fingers fold around your hand but it's not lovingly. He's scared. 
"Why didn't you tell me before?" 
"I was embarrassed." He shrugs, eyes finding yours again but they're past the point of misty. "I thought I could get over it myself because in my heart I knew it didn't have anything to do with my abilities. She was just a cruel, unloyal bitch." His expression breaks, lips turned downward and head falling back like a thousand pounds. "But she still got to me and now I've ruined our first time together because I can't get her fucking voice out of my fucking head." 
You were haunted by the damage your ex left on your soul and heart for three years. Yoongi has barely had three months to heal from the wounds his ex left behind. And while some may measure his wounds against others and judge him for not being able to get back on his feet himself, you know it's not that simple. When someone you trusted, someone you thought cared shows their true, ugly colors to you, it's a sight you carry with you no matter how heavy and uncomfortable the baggage. Not because you want to, god no. But because they left their red string of lies around your wrists and it's tied to whatever weight they decided to drop on your shoulders. 
Even with his eyes closed, Yoongi senses the shift in weight as you climb over his lap, arms slipping around his neck. Your entire body encases him in a hug and he folds his arms around you too. Nothing suggestive, nothing enticing, just a hug to hold one another while the lies from your pasts simmer away. 
"I'm not sure exactly how to say this because I've never said it before but," you slowly pull away to look in his eyes, thumbs brushing beneath his eyes as you gently tell him, "you just gave me the best orgasm of my life." 
This manages to make him chuckle. He swallows his last few tears and rolls his eyes. "Yeah, okay. Thanks, ___." 
"I mean it! Fuck your ex. Don't really because you should fuck me instead, but forget about that bitch. She doesn't deserve any part of you. Not your heart, not your attention, not your embarrassment, and certainly not your cock." 
He perks up when you say that. The first time such a blatantly dirty word has come from your mouth and holy shit, it sounds hot. Yoongi tries to steady himself but he can already feel a warmth spreading between his legs. 
"You've already made me feel so good, baby, my body is literally shaking in anticipation for what you can do to me." You leave small pecks and butterfly kisses down his neck and across his collarbone, silently instructing him to sit back as you work your way down. 
His chest starts to rise and fall again, his breath glitching when your mouth grazes past his nipples. 
"You're absolutely amazing, every inch of you."
And with every kiss, your lips cut through all that useless red string and all that weight, all those lies she used to crush his spirit just to make her black heart look less repulsive, it all disappears. 
And then he just can't keep it inside anymore. When you return to his lips, it spills out, like a broken dam, or in your opinion, a beautiful waterfall. 
"I'm so in love with you, ___." 
It's not weird. It's not awkward. It's not out of place at all. It makes sense. It makes perfect, euphoric sense. 
"I'm in love with you too, Yoongi." 
Settling yourself directly over his cock, you allow his length to slip between your folds, rocking back and forth while your lips work a pretty, purple mark on his collarbone, one that will match yours. 
And when you feel the tension start to spark between your thighs, your need for him steadily rising, you will yourself to say it out loud. So he can hear you, so he can be sure to know just how good he makes you feel. 
You're not usually one for dirty talk but it's clear that your man is in need of some serious compliments, and you're not about to let him down. Not after he went through everything he did to make sure you felt beautiful and safe and pleasured. 
"Fuck, I could cum like this," you admit with a tight breath. "Your cock feels so good just riding you like this. Yoongi, baby, move my hips for me, please. Help me...harder." 
He does as you request, holding onto your body by your waist and guiding your loose hips to grind against his cock. Your arousal drips down his cock within the first few moments, evidence of your thirst for him spilling down your thighs and making an absolute mess of his lap and bed sheets. 
You weren't lying, you could reach your second high of the night just from the feeling of his cock between your wet folds, but it's not enough to satisfy your deeper need to be filled and totally become one with this man. 
You crash into him, kissing him like your life depends on it and moaning against his lips, his name spilling from you in sweet, desperate need. 
Lifting your hips, you sink onto him, immediately clenching around his sensitive dick and causing it to twitch when he bottoms out inside you. 
"___," he sighs your name, lips tracing yours and fingers drilling into your hips. And at that moment, with your forehead pressed to his, and his cock stretching you out so deliciously, his mind goes completely blank. All that's left is you and your voice and your smile and your body and your words and you. Nothing else. 
Slowly, your hips begin to roll. Just testing out the level of intensity you're both able to handle right now. Both your voices harmonize as sounds of pleasure once again threaten to fill the dimly lit room. 
"You fill me up so perfectly," you whisper to him, "see that? It's a perfect fit. Feels so fucking good. You make me feel so happy and loved and--fuck, right there, baby. Do that again!" 
Your wish is his command. Yoongi repeatedly bucks his hips into you, using his leverage to help you keep up pace and support your body when it collapses onto his chest. Your ass continues to bounce, teeth sinking into his shoulder while Yoongi fucks you honestly ruthless. 
Not that you have the brain capacity to think about anything other than the majestic way his cock hits that perfect spot inside you every fucking time. Not that you can focus on anything other than the shooting stars behind your shut eyes. Not that you can feel anything but pure bliss like waves through your entire body every time he thrusts into you, his fingers digging bruises into your skin but you couldn't care less. 
But how the actual fuck could someone cheat on a man like Min Yoongi? 
"Mmm," you moan, sound muffled by his shoulder, "so deep…so perfect ah-h, if you keep fucking like that I'm gonna--" 
"I got you," he hushes you, quite the contrast to the erotic and sloppy sounds of his dick pounding into your soaking cunt, "Hold onto me. Let's cum together, okay? Shit, babygirl, cum with me please." 
You quickly nod, aware you won't be able to hold on much longer, not at this pace and strength. Not with his hot breath fanning your ear, not with his deep grunts every time he lifts his hips and all around fucked up moans every time you suddenly squeeze around him. 
With very little warning, you body releases, back arching and jaw dropping so there's nothing to hold you back from repeatedly moaning Yoongi's name as he fucks you through your orgasm. He cums not a moment later. 
Both your hips falter, stuttering more than either of you were expecting as you let the intense pleasure wash over you. Yoongi clings to you, arms wrapped around your body now as he holds your trembling shape to his chest. Still buried hilt deep inside, you feel some of your mixed cum start to drip down your thigh, and while the feeling isn't exactly lovely, Yoongi holding onto you as if it's the end of the world really is. 
"Hey," his voice is tired, or maybe a more accurate description would be satisfied, "please don't leave tonight." 
You smile, still resting your head on his shoulder as your body attempts to process the amount of physical activity and stimulation it just experienced. 
"I don't want to leave." 
"Good." 
Yoongi helps you slip off his softening cock, the slight movement triggering enough overstimulation to make you squeak. After a hot shower, Yoongi drops his t-shirt over your head and helps you slip back on your panties. 
It's strange. These are the kind of moments you read about in stories or see in movies. The guy isn't ever really voluntarily this caring, is he? 
Well, at least you can say with certainty, Yoongi is. 
"What do you think would have happened if my blind date hadn't stood me up that day?" 
Yoongi pauses, allowing you to snuggle into his comforter and get comfortable before climbing in beside you. 
"I don't know," he replies, opening his arms as you scoot closer, practically disappearing inside his safe, warm, and loving embrace. "I'm glad he did though. I owe everything to that guy." 
:: 
4K notes · View notes
chateautae · a month ago
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daisy | kth. (m)
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➵ summary: sleeping with your infuriating, unfairly attractive rival in art school? stupid. sleeping with him without protection? even more stupid. when you became pregnant with kim taehyung’s child at 21, your young lives suddenly derailed for the worst. fulfilling your parental roles early on proved difficult, but five years later, perhaps it was time to give your complicated relationship a second chance; not only for yourselves, but for your baby daughter—daisy.
➵ pairing: taehyung x reader 
➵ genre: rivals/fuck buddies to lovers!au, accidental pregnancy, young parents!au, the fluffiest fluff, light angst, smut
➵ rating: 18+
➵ word count: 16k
➵ warnings: swearing, mentions of addiction + counselling, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, breast fondling, oral (m & f. receiving), face-riding, clit-biting, spanking, dirty talk, deep-throating, ball-fondling, fingering, emotional/passionate sex, rough sex, scratching, creampie
➵ a/n: would you believe me if I said this was originally written in february?? HAHA this is a request by @feelsaesthetic​ for bgn’s 2 hearts, 1 love valentine’s day event!! this fic consists of taehyung, pragma (enduring love), slow burn, and an artist au with m&ms (the perfect first date) <3  I really hope you enjoy my interpretation of your request loves 🥺 thank you endlessly to my loves @taegularities​ & @amourtae​ for betaing and commenting!! (THE TAGS FINALLY WORK YAY) as always, your feedback means the world to me 💓
➵ playlist: die for you by the weeknd
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“Hi.” 
 “Hey.” 
 You smile tentatively, swallowing dryly as you stand in front of a trendy restaurant; sleek with its atmosphere, cozy with its interior. Similarly, your companion clears his throat with a fist over his mouth, restlessly shuffling his feet. 
 It’s quite comedic how you’re nervous for this date tonight, as though it’s with some Godforsaken unknown tinder fling. When in reality, you’re going on a date with the estranged man you have a five-year-old child with; Kim Taehyung. 
 You both wait in line patiently side-by-side. To say this is awkward is an understatement, or merely a guess, you're uncertain. It's not as though things are painfully intolerable between you two, nor is there suffocating hatred that's rendered you incapable of speaking to each other. 
 It's not at all like the man standing next to you is your once blood-boiling rival turned ‘I-share-50%-of-my-DNA-with-you-through-a-child-because-we-had-sex’ acquaintance. This is the first time in years you’ve both even decided to entertain a night out together; for a real date.
"Hey, do you think you'll be okay in these heels?" Taehyung leans down and asks, and all would be well if it wasn’t for the soft, warm palm he tucks against the small of your back. 
 You gulp immediately. 
 "Yeah, I'm-I'm good," you reassure him, fumbling on your words. God-fucking-dammit, how does his touch still leave your heart sprinting and your tongue twisting? It’s been years. 
 "Alright, just making sure." He politely smiles; you despise that it's still as handsome as ever. 
 Once the line begins ushering forward and Taehyung speaks to the hostess about your reservations, you're both led towards your seats. It’s located on the rustic second floor of the restaurant. Crisp, clean-cut furnishing, wooden light fixtures, enchanting decor, and a garden-like colour scheme to complement—it’s delightful. Your table even offers a sweet view of the vibrant city that eventually disappears around a stunning beach, too.
 Impressed, you whisper to Taehyung. "This is a really nice place." 
 Taehyung leans over. "I wanted to get a nice place for you." 
 Biting your lip, you're both introduced to your table. You graciously thank the hostess before tugging out your chair, only for Taehyung to instantly stop you. 
 "Woah, hold on," he calls out, pulling out your seat instead. The gentlemanly action makes you quite sheepish; you’re not used to chivalrous treatment by him. Taehyung smiles sweetly, managing to capture your heart and hold it hostage. "I can help you remove your coat, too." 
 Lost, you gaze wondrously into his woodsy brown eyes. Taehyung lightly laughs, and his hands find purchase on your lapels. You gently shrug your jacket off, and Taehyung places the item neatly on the back of your seat. 
 He finally rounds the table and removes his own coat, revealing his sophisticated, dapper button-up. It appears brand name and expensive, and you inadvertently gush at how handsome he looks tonight. Hair styled so that a few pieces frame his forehead, his rings glinting upon his fingers, his open collar revealing his chiseled collarbones, golden chest, and the silver chain he adorns.
 A chain that brings back a myriad of memories. 
 Sighing to yourself, a waiter approaches your table in the midst of your swooning. Taehyung requests a fancy wine for your table, and after perusing the menu together, your food is ordered. 
 Now, you sit silently across from each other while fidgeting, the air cumbrous. There's a dense feeling of apprehension between you two, though it’s well-warranted. A date is something utterly outlandish for the pair of you. 
 Your history together is rather… complicated. 
 "So…” Taehyung starts, anxiously rubbing his palms together—it’s always been a nervous habit of his. “How's Daisy?"
 "She's good,” you respond, distracted with a table napkin. “I left her with Mona tonight." 
 "Ah," Taehyung sucks in air through his teeth, before gently laughing. "She's an... interesting babysitter." 
 You snicker, seeing his point. Your best friend does have a quite unorthodox style of baby-sitting, but your little flower girl adores her aunt Mona far too much for you to deny her. 
 "Could your mom not look after Daisy tonight?” Taehyung inquires, leaning his elbows on the table. “Is everything alright?" 
 His concerned eyes and tone melt your heart, locking your gaze with his sweet one. You feel an array of sensations wash over you—first and foremost, attraction. How does Taehyung manage to appear so devastatingly handsome even after years? You'll never quantify an answer. Second, his undeniable affect on you never truly diminished, huh? 
 His attentiveness right now doesn’t help much, either. 
 "Yeah, everything's alright. She’s just caught up with my dad, you know?" 
 "Shit, I can’t believe I forgot." Taehyung curses. "I should’ve gotten my mom to take care of Daisy instead. Has your dad been okay these days?" 
 Your heart internally gushes, clearing your throat as you adjust to the idea of being like this with Taehyung—domestic. Warm, intimate, sweet; this isn’t the man you’ve known all these years. This version of him is vastly different. "Mhm. His work injury just started acting up again but nothing my mom can't take care of. She’s a nurse, after all.” 
 Taehyung exhales with relief, leaning back in his seat. "I’m glad, I hope he feels better soon." 
 You smile kindly, and Taehyung responds with his own. 
 The renewed silence bothers you, and so you prepare yourself to pose more worthwhile conversation. “How’s… um, the addiction counselling been for you?” You tentatively query. “I hope it’s been okay.” 
 Taehyung gently smiles, nodding. “Mm. Some days are easier than others, but I’m better. Counsellor tells me I have the mindset to quit, just a matter of getting there.” He mindlessly taps the table, focusing desolately on his folded napkin. He appears hesitant, uncomfortable almost, and you feel guilty about asking. 
 You reach over to fix his fork that wasn't quite straight, and you manage to capture his attention. Smiling benignly as a form of comfort, he smiles, too. You attempt to neglect the way he shoots an arrow through your heart, his full, luscious lips the pinnacle of your doom. 
 To explain this situation would take an ample amount of time, though you suppose it's alright considering the silence that taints the air now. 
 Taehyung wasn't your boyfriend, or your husband or technically even your ex. He was only your ex-fuck buddy from art school, but was primarily, your irritating rival you’ve known since high school. Ever since the fateful day your class was cursed with assigned seating, and you ended up seated next to a lean, obnoxiously handsome, arrogant fluffy-haired boy with phenomenal talent; it was the beginning of your downfall. 
 Kim Taehyung—you came to know him as—always had a bone to pick with you, and never missed the frustrating opportunity to challenge your art skills with his prodigal ones. Your grades were often top of the class, but so were his, resulting in the divisive pair of you squaring off on numerous occasions to decide who deserved the number one spot. Not a single art class ended without the two of you getting on each other’s nerves or bickering over who the most talented artist was. 
 It's hard to imagine you two wittily arguing over who's a better sketcher now, though, especially considering how much you’ve both mellowed out ever since Daisy. 
 Daisy; now she's a topic to discuss. 
 It was already a nuisance that Taehyung ended up attending the same art school as you after high school, though it was guaranteed when he vowed that he would never let you live a day in peace.
 Hitting up a college party in your third year, you despised running into the frustrating idiot after he already trashed your project in sculpting class earlier that day. A menace on and off campus, still your (stupidly) handsome arch nemesis, and a constant contributor to your daily headaches—that was Kim Taehyung: art school edition. 
 You remember rolling your eyes when you waltzed into the main area bustling with dancing, sweaty bodies, only to find his obnoxiously sexy ass already eyeing you from across the dance floor. 
 It was seriously a crime how much more gorgeous he grew up. 
 Your snippy attitude that night didn't shoo him away—it never did. In fact, it rather invited him to you, and sometimes you considered whether Taehyung was a masochist or not. 
 “Oh look, if it isn’t the person who doesn’t know how to proportionally structure the weight distribution of a Contrapposto sculpture.” Taehyung dramatizes. 
 “Oh look, if it isn’t the dumbass who forgot what the Mars of Todi is.” You counter. 
 “You’re the same person who forgot you’re supposed to distribute the weight on the engaged leg! Just admit that you’re a shitty carver and I’m better.” 
 “And you’re the same person that fucked around too much and made me ruin the weight in the first place! Just admit you feel threatened by me, asshat.” 
 With alcohol corrupting his judgement and your klutzy self already tipsy, your usual scuffles at the party were endless. The previous incident in class had tensions between you two on a highline, but as the night progressed, it became rivetingly thick. 
 And tension between you two? Absolutely nothing new, especially after the few times you’d both already gotten handsy and intimate, until eventually succumbing to the massively hot energy you’d both spent ages denying. 
 There really is a thin line between love and hate, you discovered, because you realized behind every argument, every showdown and infuriating debate with Taehyung, your body always buzzed with this sort of insatiable, compelling adrenaline; the kind that only a drug could sate. 
 And when you realized that drug was Kim Taehyung, well, saying that you ended up getting fucked by him in an art studio closet a few weeks prior to this was saying the least, because you explored each other’s bodies laciviously that day. 
 Not your fault Kim Taehyung’s sharp mouth could be used for things other than telling you off; and he had a wicked tongue. 
 It’s also not your fault that the art studio was usually deserted, and you and Taehyung were the epitome of perfectionists who often stayed behind to complete your projects. You two could be usually found after hours sculpting or sketching away, and the studio became your go-to place for your many more… sensual projects. 
 Again, not your fault once school began piling up and with graduation dawning on you both, sex was a godly stress-reliever. 
 But Taehyung’s eyes that particular night were captivating—intense. He bore into your very soul with carnal need, and once he backed you up against a kitchen counter, your ass nudging the edge as his arms caged you in, absolutely nothing prepared you for where that night would lead. 
 Inches deep inside you, piston-fucking you into a stranger's bed from behind. After already fingering you, eating you out like a madman, and your essence dripping out of your throbbing pussy, Taehyung shoved himself inside you so hard and fast, you saw stars dancing circles around you—he made you come for the third time that night. 
 Not only that, but your inebriated, stupid fucking brains convinced each other that a condom was useless this one time. Funny how two supposed geniuses went forward with having unprotected sex, huh? You blame alcohol and conveniently, Taehyung’s wicked tongue again. 
 Taehyung would tell the story with you being that one that begged him to be fucked raw, but your account would suggest otherwise; a horny Taehyung speedily asking if you really needed a condom when he was dying to take your raw pussy from behind, and your intoxicated ass insatiably pumping his dick before lodging it inside your weeping cunt. 
 It was a team effort.
 Five years later, here you two are, attending an out-of-place dinner while a daughter of your making most likely watches Frozen for the umpteenth time back home, bugging Mona with questions regarding who her mommy is on a date with, and Mona needing to conceal the truth—it’s with her daddy. 
 Taehyung couldn’t bear living with you and Daisy after your stressful first years parenting her, and opted for purchasing an apartment that wasn’t too far away, but still local. You always wondered why he needed to leave so desperately. 
 "So, I heard Daisy's adjusted to her senior kindergarten class." Taehyung lifts you from your trance, his voice so familiarly deep and rich. You despised that he could always reel you in with it, even if he spent the majority of his time berating your carving skills. "I'm glad. I was scared she'd ask me to start homeschooling her." 
 Recalling that Taehyung's the warmest elementary school art teacher in the world, you wouldn't necessarily mind that. You always found it quite the curveball how his narcissistic self ended up teaching art to young children, but then again, you two are quite… distant now. "How'd you know she adjusted?" 
 "She face-timed me when she was with your mom last week." Taehyung laughs, recalling the memory. "She had her face shoved into the camera the whole time. She's too fucking cute." 
 You giggle along with him, envisioning little Daisy’s chubby cheeks as she rambles, her father whole-heartedly smiling at her. Taehyung observes your reaction, and he starts rubbing his hands again; you wish you could quell his nerves.
 "She... reminds me of you." Taehyung tentatively voices, but you hear it anyway. Your eyes gently glisten under the chandelier lights, a small smile tugging your lips. 
 When you first saw that positive pregnancy test at the age of 21, there was no doubt in your mind who the father was. After a mental breakdown, a panic attack, and marathoning for 15 minutes in the freezing rain, you raided the men's track & field practice that day and demanded that you speak to an asshole named Kim Taehyung.
 The coach was admonishing you until you began openly sobbing, and even Taehyung’s expression was etched with immediate concern. When he situated you both underneath the school bleachers and draped your soaked figure with his training jacket out of courtesy, you told him the life-changing news.
 "I'm... I'm pregnant, Tae. And you're the dad." 
 Perplexed, Taehyung stands frozen for nearly an entire minute. Once you begin to cry harder and you press him for something, Taehyung's expression changes multiple times. 
 "I'm... I'm the dad?" He asks, features woven with disbelief. "Are... are you sure?" 
 "Yes, I'm fucking sure! You're the only guy I'm fucking right now, you dick!" 
 The volume of your voice stuns Taehyung, who lifts his palms in surrender. "Okay, okay! I'm sorry. I'm just... I'm shocked... I'm fucking shocked, Y/N." 
 "We're stupid, we're so stupid. We should've used a condom, we're so fucking stupid." You lament, while Taehyung stares at nothing with desolation. “Why the fuck did you have to come in me that night? This is all your fault.” 
 Taehyung indignantly scoffs. “What the fuck? My fault? You’re the one who begged me to cum inside you.” 
 “Fuck off, you should’ve been more responsible and pulled out. You always say you’re smarter than me and yet you did something as stupid as come inside me without a condom!” 
 “Hello? I was responsible, and with that logic it means you should’ve been more responsible too!” Taehyung argues. “I literally bought a Plan B at 4 in the fucking morning for you. Did you even take it?” 
 “Of course I did, genius. You know they don’t always work.” 
 “I know, woman.” Taehyung shoots back. “We’re both just idiots for having unprotected sex in the first place.” 
 The pair of you stand awkwardly with each other, tears streaming down your face as Taehyung peers off into the distance. He evidently teems with numerous thoughts, just as you do. 
 "I... I have no words. I really don't." He breaks the silence. "I don’t get it… I got you pregnant... I got you fucking pregnant? We have a kid together?" 
 "Yes, fucking Einstein!” You shriek. “Do you need me to spell it out for you?!" 
 "No, it's just kinda shocking when you tell me at my fucking track & field practice! Half an hour ago I was running laps and now I suddenly have a fucking kid with you?!" 
 "Then when was I supposed to tell you? When you were sitting down and sipping some chamomile fucking tea to calm your nerves? I just had the worst panic attack of my entire life by myself. I cried for two hours on my fucking bathroom floor trying to call you, but I couldn't even breathe. I didn't know what to do and now that I'm telling you, you have a fucking problem with it?!" 
 "Okay, okay, shh, shh." Taehyung grows concerned about your shaking state, and engulfs you in his arms. You nuzzle into his chest and sob unapologetically, quivering in his embrace. His baritone voice filters in over the pouring rain, soothing you. "I'm sorry, Y/N. That’s not what I meant. I'm sorry you went through that alone." 
 You both remain like that for a while, only the sound of droplets sliding down the bleacher tarps and draining against the pavement. His large hands cradling your body feel foreign then, but it wasn’t unwelcomed. Your nerves calm down when he squeezes you a little harder, and you inhale his heady cologne. 
 His voice pierces the silence. “Are you… are you thinking of keeping the baby?”
 Appalled, you glower at him with boiling wrath. “Taehyung, if you tell me to get rid of this baby for even a second, I will tear your balls off and sell them on the fucking black market.” 
 Taehyung’s eyes fearfully widen—he instantly denies you. “No, Y/N. What the fuck? I would never ask that of you, and you know that.” 
 Acquiescing, your mind still rages with provocative thoughts. Once you register the gravity of this situation, soon, agonizing tears escape your eyes, and it was only Taehyung’s thumb swiping them from your cheek that pulls you out of your strife. 
 “What are we going to do, Tae?” You ask, voice thick with emotion. “What are we going to do?” 
 Shaking his head, Taehyung peers at the ground, his expression bleak. He tugs on his bottom lip as he holds back his own tears. “I don’t know, Y/N.” He says, vulnerable eyes finally meeting yours, and for the first time in all the years that you’ve known Taehyung, you see him break. “I don’t know.” 
 It's the waiter setting your food down that fishes you out of your thoughts, startled. You notice you’d impolitely drifted off, clearing your throat to thank the kind server. 
 Once chewing sounds fill the unusual air between you and Taehyung, you realize he’s grown quiet, too. Perhaps you're not the only one who's strolling down memory lane. 
 "So... Daisy’s been drawing." You throw it out there, Taehyung’s once distracted eyes focusing on you again. 
 “Oh, hey, that’s great to hear. Does she rival Picasso like we always said she would?” Taehyung playfully pays homage to an ancient conversation between you two. You recalled it happening when you waited together at the Planned Parenthood health clinic with him, discussing how a child of your making could possibly rival Picasso with your combined talents. 
 It helped ease the grave situation at the time. 
 "She really does," you smile to yourself. "She's... so incredibly talented, Tae. She draws things that are so abstract and yet sound, and she's so creative." You gush about her, a proud grin gracing Taehyung's handsome face. 
 "She really is just like you, then." 
 You become bashful, tutting him. "No way, she gets her talent from you." 
 Taehyung harmlessly scoffs. "Please, we all know the talented one was always you, Y/N." He assures. "I hated admitting it, but I always knew it was true." 
 "Wow, your younger self would hate you right now." 
 "Yeah, well, my younger self was stupid." 
 You gently twirl your fork in your mouth once Taehyung takes a bite of his steak. He leans back as he chews, eyeing you carefully. 
 Taehyung watches you play with the utensil, flitting between your mouth and your eyes. The heat of his gaze is intoxicating, riveting. "Do you remember sophomore year? Namjoon's pool party?" 
 The second he brings it up, you snort. "No fucking way you're bringing that up." 
 "I have to, strawberry shortcake. It's the funniest story on Earth." 
 You roll your eyes as your fork falters from your mouth. You couldn’t believe he still stuck with calling you ‘strawberry shortcake’ after you became a cake maker. Unoriginal. "What was funny? The way you gave me a sore throat after fucking my face in his bathroom or Namjoon finding us screwing over his myth & lit paper?" 
 Taehyung immediately breaks out into infectious laughter, and he hides his precious smile behind his fist. "Shit, the look on his face when he found me balls deep inside you over his Cupid & Psyche analysis. I'll never forget it." 
 "Get out. I’ll always remember you saying that us fucking over it was a good secondary source for ‘passionate love’.” Taehyung immediately snickers, and you need to slap a palm over your mouth too, your own laughter undeniable. “And really? No regard for my throat after you destroyed it?" 
 "Hey, didn't I bring you food and medicine for over a week and watch Jeopardy with you every night?" Taehyung reminds you, and you reluctantly roll your eyes, folding your arms. 
 "I remember something along those lines, but mainly us bickering over answers." 
 Taehyung gently laughs, reaching over the table to sip some of his water. You abhor the way it causes his Adam's apple to bob, only emphasizing the Godly carving of Taehyung’s neck. You were always so weak for his neck. 
 "You're right. I also recall our Mario Kart session ending up with me eating you out until my jaw hurt. It was your revenge, remember?" He adds. 
 You wheeze, flashing back to that steamy night. "And Mona ended up catching us in the act, too." 
 "Shit, we really had a bad rep for getting caught, huh?" 
 "It's no wonder everyone voted us best couple when we hated each other's guts." 
 You and Taehyung chortle together before settling down, slowly working through your dinner. 
 "Us as a couple... huh?" Taehyung muses, his eyes focusing on the table cloth before despondently taking another bite of his steak. You similarly toy with your steamed broccoli. 
 "A couple... yeah." 
 Taehyung snorts. "A couple of fuck buddies, maybe." 
 He makes you snicker despite your downcast mood. "We always did end up like that, didn't we?" 
 "Yeah," he agrees, flitting up to find your expression mirroring his; hesitant and nostalgic. "It always started with you calling me a dick every time I hated on your sketching." 
 You stifle a laugh. "You're right. Then you'd say something about actually having a huge dick and when I asked you to prove it, you'd kiss me before I could say anything else." 
 "Your lips were always just really fucking kissable, especially with the amount that you ran your mouth." Taehyung waves around his cutting knife and you send him a glare, but he remains unthreatened, and rather laughs. Your eyes lock with his intensely as you bite back a grin, his own flitting towards your mouth, gently flickering with desire, before he focuses on his food. 
 "They still are..." he murmurs. 
 You catch that despite his low volume, heart smiling within your chest. "That all… stopped being fun and games though, huh?" 
 Taehyung nods. "Yeah, after we had Daisy." 
 "After we had Daisy..." you repeat, tired of your meal. Your mind flashes through the last five years of your life with Daisy. To say it was tribulating is an understatement; ever since you had her, your life has completely transformed. 
 You were never able to finish school, and all the future plans you had dissipated into thin air. Your scholarship for a sculpting program in France was snatched from your grasp, and Taehyung's full-ride to the Glasgow School of Art went kaput, too. 
 Most of your memory consists of fights with Taehyung; distressing nights where you both angrily discussed the outcomes of your futures, finances, how to manage the custody and care of Daisy despite having your individual dreams as prodigy artists— how to live as normal 21-year olds with her in the picture. 
 What was even more ambiguous was your confusing relationship with one another. 
 You knew you loved him. You discovered that somewhere along the twelve years you’ve known him; it wasn't a hard-to-swallow pill. It was rather the kind that you knew you needed to take, but could never will yourself to do so. You were aware your heart would always belong to him, but loving Taehyung was dangerous. 
 Loving Taehyung meant facing all the hardships, challenges, and the reality of your changed lives; it meant sacrificing the comfort of your lifestyle only to float just above subsistence. As much as you two were fully capable adults, sometimes you believe it was the youth in the impossible pair of you that perpetuated the fights, the yelling, the unnecessary drama. 
 The days Taehyung couldn't handle juggling his two part-time jobs, deadlines for his art applications and portfolios, the nights he came to you in agony, with sheer stress weighing his shoulders down. The times he hated himself for not being absent for most of Daisy's firsts, too busy trying to be the father he wanted for your little family. 
 His descent into smoking and the impossible addiction he suffered—he was just so young. 
 Arguments concerning your futures were always explosive. The horrific fight you found yourselves in when you proposed moving to France for your sculpting opportunity, and Taehyung couldn’t stand the idea of uprooting everything you had both built with Daisy here. 
 When Taehyung declared that he was fed up with everything and intended to move to Scotland for his apprenticeship, and had no remorse when you begged him to stay. 
 You went two months without speaking to each other before he showed up at your front door again—he couldn’t abandon Daisy. 
 Sure, with being close to one another and sharing the same pressurizing situation, sex became something that at least binded you two together; it was what landed you here in the first place. It was more casual, convenient, nonchalant rather than intimate or romantic. Your love lives nose-dived after having Daisy anyway—sharing  that you had a 2-year-old child at the ripe age of 23 was never a great way to get laid. 
 So finding yourselves in each other’s sheets became entirely normal; the sex was comfortable, familiar. You understood each other better than anyone, and it was nothing more, nothing less. 
 But even if Taehyung ended up with his fingers shoved inside you beyond an amount you can tally, and you’d memorized every vein on his dick after sucking it numerous times, you two were still impossible. 
 The amount of instances of your schedules conflicting and someone couldn't look after Daisy. Informing your families about your accidental pregnancy, earning the judgemental looks from everyone on campus, sharing the parental responsibilities, the expenses. There wasn’t a single moment where stress wasn't at the forefront of your minds, breeding God-awful tension, hatred and resentment between you two. 
 It was the worst whenever it came to Daisy. 
 What was best for her was your number one priority, that was something you both gladly shared, but the one thing you two could never see eye-to-eye on was parenting her. 
 "Don’t tell me how to parent my kid." Taehyung spits. 
 "She’s not your kid, she’s mine.” You stress. “I'm the one who takes care of her while you’re out doing as you goddamn please." 
 "She's my daughter as much as she is yours. And do as I please? I'm trying to keep this family afloat by working two jobs. I'm trying to provide for you and her because I know it's my responsibility as the father." 
 "Then just fucking drop the reponsbility, Tae! I told you from the beginning I didn't fucking need your help, you never needed to put yourself through this stress, so don't try to make me feel sorry for you!" 
 "Drop the responsibility? Are you fucking serious? She's goddamn half of me!” 
 “And? Do you think I asked for any of this? That I asked to get stuck in this impossible fucking situation with you of all people?” 
 “Do you think I asked for this, too? Are you forgetting that we both decided to have sex that night? That we both share her as a responsibility now?" 
 "And I don't care! I don't care anymore because if all we're ever going to do is disagree then there's no need for us to work together. I can't do this." 
 "Yes we do, Y/N. We work together because that is what our daughter deserves, because we fucking owe it to her." 
 Taehyung drops Daisy's toys on the couch that storming night, and grips your arms seriously. "Listen, Y/N. We both made the decision to bring Daisy into this world, and it'll always be our responsibility to take care of her together, no matter what happens between us." 
 You sniffle as you avoid his eyes, tears cascading down your cheeks. "I don't care if we hate each other, if we can never see eye-to-eye, if there even comes a point when you can’t stand seeing my face. We do this for her, got it?" 
 Inhaling deeply, you don’t answer, and Taehyung's voice becomes authoritative, his tone sharper. "Y/N, look at me right now." 
 You do, tears shaking in your eyes as you wipe them away. "No matter what, we do this for Daisy, right?" 
 Swallowing your turbulent emotions, you nod for him. "Yeah… we do this for Daisy."
 Even if your time raising Daisy together was inopportune, there were genuinely beautiful moments, too. The time Daisy fell ill and you drifted off on Taehyung's shoulder while the both of you stayed overnight at the hospital for her.
 When Daisy crawled for the first time, when she bumped her head for the first time, even when she kicked inside your stomach for the first time. They were all moments with Taehyung that felt infinite, because despite it all, you loved him, and sharing a child with him left your heart devastated in the most intricate of ways. 
 Despite not knowing his true feelings for you, you liked to believe Taehyung loved you, too. It was evident whenever the stress of being a mother crushed you some days, and Taehyung held you as you weeped into his chest. When you gave birth and Taehyung unconditionally supported you throughout the entire painstaking experience. Even when he tended to you during your pregnancy and cried for you when birthing complications plagued your delivery, and he nearly lost you. 
 "You remember the first time Daisy ever said her first words?" Taehyung's deep, baritone voice lifts you from your clogged mind again, flickering to him dabbing a napkin to his lips. 
 "Yeah... yeah I do."
 "Proof that she loves her dad more." When Taehyung makes the joke, you deadpan immediately and bunch up your napkin, throwing it at him. 
 “Fuck you, she could’ve easily said mama, too.” 
 Taehyung cleverly catches it, chuckling to himself. "Alright, alright. I'll settle on 60/40 then. She loves me 60% and you 40." 
 You pick up your fork and threaten him with it, to which Taehyung instantly surrenders. You both settle down after laughing, Taehyung spotting the unopened wine and reaching over for the bottle. 
 "I'm glad she's all you, though." He muses, unscrewing the wine. He pours some into your glass before tending to his own, softly smiling. "She's beautiful like her mother." 
 His words feel so… different tonight. Sure, you’ve both become less of raging rivals and rather amicable allies that work together for your daughter, but Taehyung’s never been this… romantic, sweet. 
 You wonder what’s gotten into him. 
 Tears manifest in your eyes once the nostalgia catches up to you, and you quickly try to blink them away. "You're making me remember why we named her Daisy." 
 Taehyung sees your teeming emotions as he sets the wine bottle down, his smile sympathetic. "I remember it like it was yesterday." 
 "You didn't have to... you know." 
 "Of course I did..." Taehyung trails, his eyes softly gazing at you, his voice calm and soothing. "How could I not name my daughter the same thing I called my favourite girl?" 
 Flowers blossom inside your chest, sniffling. Daisy; it was the once obnoxious nickname Taehyung gave you in the ninth grade after he found you lying among them during lunch as you sketched away, only to end up having a horrible allergic reaction to the pollen. 
 You laugh now recalling those days. 
 "It's a beautiful name." You muse. 
 "Beautiful names for my beautiful girls." Taehyung charmingly smiles, and you grow bashful at the sight. You’re forced to hide your face behind your hands; Taehyung is deadly when he’s charismatic, it's what drew you to him in the first place despite his venomous wit and narcissistic tendencies.
 "She does miss her dad, though. Do you think you could spend this Wednesday with her?" 
 "Of course, Y/N. Anything for her." Taehyung immediately agrees, lifting his wine glass and bringing it forward. "Wanna toast?" 
 You quirk an impressed brow, lifting your glass and bringing it towards him. "What should we toast to?" 
 "Hmm," Taehyung thinks, rubbing his chin. "You know, I was gonna say to Daisy, since that makes the most sense. But tonight, I think... we toast to something different." 
 Taehyung's eyes suddenly bore into yours, meaningfully and poignantly, and you become lost in the warm, coffee swirls of his irises. "We should toast to us." 
 Admittedly timid, you smile. "We should." You reply, beginning the toast. "To us... trying new things." 
 Taehyung grins, adding his own words. "To us giving each other a real chance." 
 Clinking each other's glasses, you never stray away from each other's gaze as you down your wine. Even after your glass meets the table’s surface, your chin fits into your hand as you line the rim of your glass, tilting your head as you peer at him. 
 Taehyung leans back in his seat, his eyes heavy with intensity. He drinks once again, your eyes focused on the way his jaw flexes, and has been the whole night. 
 “Why did you invite me out, Tae?” 
 Taehyung swallows his sip and sets his glass down, licking his lips. “Hm?” 
 “Why did you invite me out tonight?” You query, taking a swig of your cherry Merlot, your gaze still hot on him. “For a date, at that.” 
 “Like we said,” Taehyung inhales deeply before exhaling, his eyes glowing with an intangible emotion as they linger on you. “Trying new things, I guess.” 
 You bite your lower lip, sweeping over the sexy smolder of his expression; he never fucking lost it. He may be much more subdued now, but Kim Taehyung’s charisma is surely undeniable. He has a slightly rugged look to him; light stubble and strong eyebrows, broad frame and muscle. Despite the softness of him being an elementary school teacher, Taehyung is aging like fine wine, and that fires up your lady bits to multitudinous levels. 
 And once you remember that he’s a dad, the father of your child at that, it’s hard to shake the sex appeal of him being a 26-year-old dilf.
 You presume Taehyung mirrors your insatiable feelings. His eyes never fail to glance at your cleavage; your boobs did get bigger after you had Daisy. 
 "What do you say we get out of here?" Taehyung ticks his head towards the staircase, taking the last sip of his wine. 
 You promiscuously dress your tone, crossing your legs as you lean onto the table. "Where exactly to?" 
 His irises become coloured with a certain darkness, one that's thrilling. "I was thinking we take a walk on the beach." 
 Intrigued, you agree. "Anywhere you want to take me, Kim." 
 Wetting his lips, Taehyung carefully scans your facial features before roaming over your body, remaining an extra second on your collar bones before sending you a small smirk, and calling for the cheque.
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 “Fuck, my heels won’t do good in the sand.” 
 “I knew they’d end up bothering you.” 
 “And how did you know that?” 
 “Because I know you, Y/N. You hate heels, why’d you even wear them?” 
 “Because I know you, Tae. You like when women wear heels.” 
 “So you wore them for me?” 
 “Shut the fuck up. What do we do now?” 
 “Here, take them off and I’ll carry them.” 
 “Are you sure?” 
 “Of course.” 
 You become giddy. Standing above the boardwalk lining the beach, Taehyung holds out his palm for you to occupy with your heels, his smile warmer than the sun. Sheepishly, you hand the straps to him and he grasps them from you without complaint. You can’t help but consider him the epitome of courteousness. 
 So unlike him. 
 Peacefully promenading down the beach, you and Taehyung breathe in the fresh air as your feet traverse the tufts of sand. It feels tender against your soles, and the evening sun setting illuminates the sky with majestic hues of orange, fluttering your eyes shut when the salty ocean breeze caresses your skin. 
 “It’s been a while since we’ve done this.” You muse. 
 Taehyung peers at your side profile, slowly stepping alongside you. “Done what?” 
 “Just… been in each other’s presence.” 
 Taehyung hums in agreement, nodding. “True, things really changed after I moved out, huh?”  
 “Yeah… we became really distant.” 
 Sighing solemnly, you recall when the feeling of loneliness didn’t consume you when you and Taehyung lived together. Even though sharing an apartment with your irritating rival caused you ear-splitting headaches, small moments of happiness seeped into your everyday lives being parents to Daisy. 
 That feeling of being a team—it was undefeated. Sometimes you were convinced perhaps Taehyung was your soulmate, though you digressed on his behalf. Being with Taehyung would only mean a tragedy, and your messy love life wasn’t something Daisy deserved. 
 It’s not her fault her parents were idiots.
 “Then again, whenever we were together we always ended up either fighting or fucking.” 
 You snort when Taehyung tugs you out of your disquieting thoughts. “Gosh, one of the two F’s, huh? I’ll never forgive Yoongi for that dumb joke; ‘you’ll always find them doing either one of the F’s, fighting or fucking’.” Taehyung guffaws once the words leave your mouth, and his laugh is akin to an angel strumming a harp in heaven.
 “Fuck Yoongi for that. He found us having sex in his room one time and it was over for us.” Giggling at his mimicking tone, you feel a sudden surge of electricity when your hand brushes Taehyung’s. You widen your eyes, swallowing away your shock, because it’s just a simple touch. 
 Surprisingly, you feel the same electric current when Taehyung’s hand brushes yours again. His touch leaves tingles travelling up your arm, observing in your peripheral that he’s… hesitating. He opens and closes his fist, reaching out but aborting his mission at the last second. 
 Finding him endearing, you peer towards the shimmering tides on your left. Suddenly, his warm, slender hand snakes into yours, shocking you altogether. You let a small smile curve your lips then, gently gripping his hand back. You catch the hints of a grin upon his wide lips after you do, too. 
 A silence passes between you two then, though it’s far from dense or prickly, rather soothing, filled with the sounds of the ocean tides crashing upon the shore.
 “I wonder what makes things so different now.” You pierce the quietude. 
 “Hm?” 
 “I mean, we’re still oil and water but… ever since Daisy, ever since you moved out… we’re different. Sometimes I feel like I barely know you as a person…” 
 You recall the last three years or so you and Taehyung decided to split ways. With him physically out of the picture, things became painfully transparent—you and Taehyung will never be. It feels like yesterday you remember handing him the last of his things, and embracing him tighter than you expected when he left—your chest felt empty once he drove out of your parking lot and turned the corner for good.
 Sometimes you’re convinced Taehyung took a piece of your heart with him when he left. 
 “You’re right. I feel like I barely know anything about you anymore, either.” Taehyung adds, squeezing your hand when you shiver. “Other than your number for texting or calling about Daisy, really.” 
 You nod at his statement; he’s correct. You and Taehyung only communicate through calls and text for your arrangements with Daisy. You both still have joint-custody of her and coordinate your days; the weekends for her dad and the weekdays with you, though occasionally Taehyung likes to pick her up on odd weekdays after school for their father-daughter time.
 You were always enlightened that Taehyung never despised or neglected Daisy. He adored her tremendously despite her accidental birth. He always made time for her, and always exercised his effort in the form of unconditional fatherly love. It felt like a blessing. 
 “Pft, all I know about you is the amount of moms that ogle you at Daisy’s school.” You snark. “How’s Ms. Owen doing, by the way? Did she ever catch that squirrel in her garden or is she too busy drooling over you?” 
 Taehyung bellows out a laugh, and it’s like hearing a symphony. “Please, how do you even know that?” 
 “Daisy told me.” You humph, folding your arms. “This Thursday she also told me about all the other mommies always staring at her young daddy and calling him very handsome.” 
 Taehyung stifles a laugh behind his fist, snickering. “Damn, I never really noticed. I’m always too busy talking to Daisy.” 
 You roll your eyes. “What about that Ms. Lucas that always asks you out for a play date with her and her son all the time?” 
 “Stacy?” Taehyung cocks a brow. “Oh gosh, how’d you find out about her?” 
 “Daisy.” 
 Taehyung shakes his head. “It seems Daisy’s got some loose lips.” 
 You both chuckle together before Taehyung settles. “It’s honestly nothing. She gets flirty but I always shut her down. I don’t wanna get into a relationship with someone I barely know when my focus is Daisy, you know?” 
 You scoff. “You can say that again.” 
 Taehyung side eyes you then. “Now that I recall, Daisy did tell me about a certain Wooshik at your bakery?” 
 You instantly freeze, caught off-guard. “Wh-what?” 
 “Oh my God, you’re totally flustered. You have a huge crush on him, don’t you?” 
 Glaring at him, you see a hint of some… disappointment in his eyes, but he smiles anyway. 
 You immediately whack his bicep. “Shut the fuck up, asshat. I don’t have a crush on him. He texts me way too much; he’s too persistent. I don’t think he gets the fact that handling the bakery and Daisy is enough for me right now.” 
 The bakery is a bit of a handful for you. You aren’t necessarily well-versed with baking, but with your well-acclaimed sculpting skills, you figured applying for a cake-making position at your local bakery was close enough. Sculpting and decorating cakes quickly became your new muse, and after years of hard work, you have finally earned a senior position. 
 “I completely understand that. Making art lessons for third grade kids is seriously harder than it looks.” 
 You laugh with Taehyung as your feet drag in the soft sand, both of you having unknowingly shifted closer to each other.
 “How’s the bakery, by the way?” 
 “It’s doing well, actually. Recently we had this super popular social media influencer post about us, so business has been booming.” You excitedly tell Taehyung while he whole-heartedly listens, and flashes glimpses at your side-profile. 
 “That sounds lovely, Y/N.” Taehyung grins. “Bet it has to do with that Wooshik always praising your work. What does he call you again as encouragement? ‘The most talented baker in the world’ or ‘the most beautiful baker in the world’?” 
 Gasping, you lift your hand to smack his chest. “Taehyung, how do you know that?!”
 “Like I said, Daisy has loose lips.” 
 You playfully grunt with a roll of your eyes, while Taehyung chuckles. 
 “But seriously… is he… are you guys?” He trails, as though waiting for you to fill in the gaps. 
 You narrow your eyes jokingly. “Why? What’s it to you?” 
 Taehyung’s cheeks redden in colour. “Nothing, I’m just asking.” 
 “Hmm, are you sure? Your cheeks are red, Taehyung.” 
 “No they aren’t.” He instantly denies, his bread cheeks adorably poofing. It always softened your heart how cute he could be despite his sharp tongue, and that he blushed an incredible amount.
 “Yes they are, look how cute you are.” You coo at  him, cupping his cheeks in your palms.
 “Hey, stwop it.” His speech becomes muffled because you’re squishing his cheeks, his lips forming an endearing pout. 
 “Awh, can you say that again?” 
 “Y/N!” 
 “Tae~hyung!” You sing-song. 
 “You’re the one that hash chubby chweeks.”
 You gasp. “No I don’t!” 
 “Yes, you do! Where do you think Daisy gets it from?” 
 “No I don’t, I totally lost my baby fat.” You cross your arms with annoyance. 
 “No you didn’t, but it’s cute.” He smiles, fond eyes on you. 
 Grunting with frustration, you immediately start approaching him. “That’s it, give me your wallet. I’m chucking it in the ocean.” You reach for his pocket, Taehyung theatrically exclaiming as he fights you off. 
 “Not my wallet, you thief. Unhand me!” 
 You and Taehyung begin struggling against each other then; you whacking him incessantly and grabby hands aiming for his pocket, all while he holds you back. It’s hard to not laugh when his strength clearly trumps yours, but he’s letting you have some fun. 
 “Alright, that’s enough.” Taehyung suddenly declares, and he grabs hold of your hip and wrist before hoisting you up. 
 You yelp once you’re dangling off his broad shoulder, your world now entirely upside down. “Taehyung! What the fuck?!” 
 He maniacally laughs. “Haha, this is what you get when you point out that I blush.” 
 You exclaim distraughtly, smacking his back. “Ugh, Tae, it’s not my fault you’re a guy that actually blushes. It’s cute!” 
 “And your cheeks make your face cute.” He cleverly argues.
 You’re seconds from rolling your eyes and hollering at him like a lunatic, but he doesn’t give you time. Instead, Taehyung adjusts his hold on you and begins walking… towards the shore. 
 “Oh-Oh Taehyung, you are not–” 
 “What? Sorry, I can’t hear you over all these waves.” Taehyung exaggerates.
 “Oh my fucking God,” you curse, despising his theatrics because you know what he’s going to do. “Get me away from the shore or I’m going to kill you!” 
 Taehyung heartily laughs. “Please, kill me then. I wouldn’t necessarily mind dying by your hand.” Right when you’re going to retort, Taehyung suddenly lands a palm on your ass for a smack. You squeak, becoming the epitome of a babbling fool. 
 “Wh-why… what was that for?!” 
 “Your ass looks good in this dress, I forgot to tell you. Kind of been wanting to spank you all day.” He openly admits, and even though your face is as flustered as ever, you become alarmed, spotting the wet sand he’s walking on now. 
 “Kim Taehyung, I swear if you–” 
 All of a sudden, Taehyung charges towards the shore and contrary to your belief, he doesn't throw you in, rather bolts directly into the water with you in tow. All you feel is a surge of cold waves attacking your skin. You squeal before going under, but Taehyung’s hands remain snug on you, keeping you close. 
 Once you resurface together, Taehyung is a laughing mess, practically guffawing as he wipes water from his gorgeous face. You, however, are not amused, mouth agape at his sheer audacity. 
 “Taehyung, are you crazy? Now we’re all wet!” 
 “I mean, I was always a pro at getting you wet, wasn’t I?” 
 Blinking, you can’t believe his smug face right now. The father of your child really just said to you, and he looks every bit proud having said it. Scoffing, you glide your hand across the water and splash him, Taehyung exclaiming once the droplets smack him in the face. 
 “Y/N!” 
 “Haha, that’s what you get for getting me wet, literally.” 
 Swiping the water from his face again, Taehyung then cards his fingers through his soaked locks, casting it all away from his face. The sight you behold then is undeniably sweltering, so much so that your underwear dampens, and not because you’re both currently submerged in water. 
 Taehyung’s exposed forehead haunts you, the hair pushed back from his ethereal face now revealing intimidating eyebrows, his sculpted face structure, and piercing eyes. He licks his lips as he becomes fixated on you, too, just when you glide a hand through your hair. 
 The sunset shimmers between your two bodies, the water reflecting its yellow and orange rays as it slowly tucks itself behind the horizon. The breeze is comforting, the water is lukewarm, and all you can focus on is the sky within Taehyung’s eyes, yearning to become lost in them and never find your way out. 
 You’re still in love with him, you know it.
 You know it because your heart is racing, and it’s because he’s right before you. You know it because when his hands slowly curl around your waist, and he pulls you close, feel your wet chest against his, a current trickles throughout your body, igniting you. You know it because when you’re caught in this meaningful, silent gaze with him, all you feel is the urge to mumble those three words that have ruined you for years, and connect your mouth with his. 
 “You wanna know something funny?” Taehyung suddenly asks. 
 Your palms naturally cradle his biceps, mesmerized by him. “What?” 
 “People never believe me when I say I have a little girl, a five year old at that.” He speaks calmly as his hands cup your waist, and you slowly wind your arms around his neck
 You breathe a laugh, admiring the glowing, honey hue of his eyes in the golden sunrays. “What do you tell them?” 
 “That I…” Taehyung trails, his eyes falling. “ I made a mistake once… when I was young.” 
 Slightly disheartened, you swallow dryly. Your eyes divert themselves solemnly, and Taehyung immediately perks up. 
 “But that it was the best thing that ever happened to me… Y/N. You and Daisy.” He speaks so calmly, so sweetly, he nearly calls your attention back, but you still feel wounded. 
 “Really?” 
 Suddenly, you feel Taehyung gently grip your chin, thumb and pointer finger fitting snug. He turns you to face him, and when you meet his eyes, they’re dripping with sincerity that could last generations. “I tell them it’s the most amazing mistake I ever made.” 
 Feeling lighter, you softly smile at him. Taehyung appreciates the view, his eyes focused on your lips. He can see the small droplets of water gracing your eyelashes, and he’s never seen anyone more beautiful.
 “What do you say about the mom?” 
 Taehyung chuckles a little, kindly stroking your skin. “I say she’s a pain in the ass.” 
 Scandalized, you move back to splash water on him again, but Taehyung catches you all while laughing endearingly, and that sound is the most familiar, comforting thing you’ve ever heard. “Woah, okay! I’m kidding, I don’t say that. I tell them…” 
 Again, he’s searching your eyes just as much as he seems to be searching for the right words. He gently bites his lower lip, switching between your irises and your tempting lips. 
 “I tell them…” He moves forward, his mouth just inches from yours. His breath tickles your lips, and your heart has never felt so full. “She’s the most beautiful person I’ve ever known, and I’m thankful everyday she’s the mother of my daughter.” 
 In the heat of the moment, all you know, see, and feel is Taehyung. The water sloshes about as he decreases the space between you two, and you’re engulfed by his entrancing proximity, his ability to reel you in so easily, and you never mind being enticed. 
 Before you can breathe again, a small chuckle escapes you. You can’t believe this moment at all, and it’s almost funny to you how in love you are with him despite having hated him for years. 
 In all your thinking, Taehyung suddenly leans forward and pecks your lips, planting the smallest of kisses on you. You instantly become timid. 
 “Hey… you just kissed me.” 
 Impish, Taehyung bites back a grin. “Yeah, I did.” 
 Becoming the equivalent of a bashful, flustered girl, your lips form a pout as you weakly hit his chest. “You’re-you’re not supposed to do that.” 
 “Why not?” He’s radiant at your effort to try and hide your smile, his thumb gliding over your bottom lip.
 You meet his eyes, a little restless in the water because you can feel your body desiring every inch of him, and it’s uncontainable. “Because we don’t know what we’re doing, Tae.” 
 “I know what I’m doing.” 
 You tilt your head, eyes round with curiosity. “What are you doing?” 
 Taehyung glides his hand toward your hair, tucking some loose strands behind your ear. His thumb strokes the apple of your cheek, and his hand on your waist squeezes you tighter, his eyes poignantly searching yours. 
 “I think… I’m falling in love with you again.” 
 Within a hot, intense second, Taehyung lowers himself to your height, and his lips plant atop yours, catching you for a sweet kiss. He moves his mouth with calculated, thoughtful finesse, kissing you tenderly. It only lasts a few seconds before Taehyung pulls away to capture the reaction on your face. 
 You’re stunned, but the good kind. In hindsight, you shouldn’t be doing this with Taehyung at all. You’re both far too confusing and complicated, and kissing wouldn’t make things any clearer. These feelings inside you should be subdued, should be stomped all over and squashed because after finally finding some stability with Daisy, she doesn’t need her parents stupidly navigating their on-off relationship. 
 But when Taehyung kisses you, you feel infinite. The water disappears, the fresh breeze, the wetness, even that sun that’s wishing everyone a goodnight. He is all you feel, and you’d spend this moment chasing that feeling of infinity with him all you desire. 
 Your hands lift to tread through his wet strands, and Taehyung responds by clutching your body closer. You’re pressed up against him, your damp clothes causing your figures to feel as though they’re naked. 
 The gleam in your eyes must’ve told Taehyung that you want this, because without a word, he slowly dips his head to seal his mouth with yours. You sigh into the kiss, Taehyung’s hands stroking your hips, deliberately feeling your wet body before sliding over your ass, and grabbing you with hot strength. 
 You gently gasp into his mouth when his large enough fingers even tease your core, and Taehyung disconnects to breathe, your noses touching. 
 “I have wanted to do that… all fucking night.” He breathes, the droplets upon his face glistening under the fading sunlight. 
 Breaking out into a smile, you chuckle. “Then don’t wait any longer. Didn’t you always like shutting me up with a kiss?” 
 Taehyung rolls his eyes. “Aish, let me do it again.” Is all he says before pressing his lips to yours, and you inhale his kiss like a starved animal. 
 Taehyung has always been a godly kisser; it almost feels like a privilege to be able to mold your mouth with his. He’s sensual and slow, always uses enough tongue, and right now, kissing him after years feels like earning your first sip of water after lying in a desert. 
 His lips are always so smooth, even taste of honey because of the chapstick he uses. You realize he still uses the same brand, and a smile frames your lips in the midst of the kiss. Taehyung feels it and he smiles, too, groping your ass a little tighter as he presses your hips against his, and you shudder when you feel his clothed member. 
 The feeling drives you insane, and when Taehyung angles his head to pry open your mouth with his tongue, you let him slither inside. You taste him plentifully, tongue traversing the corners of his mouth, and he’s delicious. The Merlot is the cherry on top, and before you know it, the kiss was deep and intimate. 
 Taehyung groans into your mouth when he presses you flat against his crotch, maneuvering your hips to meld with his. You sigh when his tongue swirls around yours and the kiss becomes sloppy, tasting him for all he’s worth. 
 Suddenly, Taehyung disconnects from you, even leaving a trail of saliva between. His large hands mold to your thighs, settling underneath with a tight grip. 
 His lips graze your ear. “Jump.”
 He whispers it so huskily that you succumb right away, leaping into his arms and straddling his torso. The water splashes as he catches you effortlessly, and you attack each other for more insatiable kisses. You giggle sometimes when the waves crash upon your making out, entangled bodies, even squealing when it rises too high and drenches you both. 
 Taehyung laughs with you, and playfully pretends to toss you into the water, but you immediately cling to him like a koala. 
 “Taehyung, don’t you dare!” 
 “Oh c’mon, just once?” 
 “Not if you want to die!” 
 He finds your scared eyes adorable, and he can’t manage how closely you’re cradling him, as though right now, he’s all you need. But especially, when you turn your head and your big eyes peer at him as though he’s your world—Taehyung’s left a pining, mushy mess. 
 Returning for more kisses, he peppers you with sweet pecks before he treads out of the water. You gasp when the waves almost drench you two again, but Taehyung escapes to the beach like a champ, looking towards you before his laughter spills, and so does yours. 
 Taehyung leans down and snatches up your heels that he left in the sand. He supports you with an arm as you cling to him, lips finding his neck for kisses. Taehyung groans when you suckle on his sweet spot. 
 “Fuck, Y/N. You know how I feel about neck kisses.” 
 “I know.” 
 So you continue to pleasure him with a giddy grin, Taehyung even craning his neck for more. You’re far too distracted with kissing him to realize Taehyung has begun walking down the beach. 
 “Taehyung, where are we going?” 
 “To the beach lodging. I need you asap.” 
 Kittenish, you excitedly lean in and press your mouth against his. Taehyung chuckles as he kisses you back, relishing in your sweet lips until he reaches the lodging area. 
 He climbs the stairs with you in tow and reaches the front wooden porch. Thankfully there isn't company, but it’s not like you’d care when you’re with Taehyung, anyway. He sets you down on your feet, and you disconnect from him to gain your breath, but Taehyung provides no time. 
 He instantly hurtles you back against the entrance’s wall, and you moan into his mouth when you hit the surface. With his hands either side of your head, he goes in for the kill, his lips consuming every corner of your mouth. 
 He canvasses down your jaw at some point, and when he reaches your throat, your moans are uncontainable. 
 “Fuck… fuck, Tae…” 
 “Mm,” he hums satisfyingly, his hand without your heels gliding up your body to tighten around one of your breasts. “I know.” 
 You shudder when he finds your weak point and suckles at it, gently biting, licking and sensually kissing you. His large, warm palm skillfully gropes your tit, locating your nipple and even tantalizingly grazing it as you moan—your panties are a fucking mess. His decadent lips travel down your neck and visit your cleavage, stuffing himself between your boobs for kisses.
 Once you hear people chattering in the distance, you’re brought back to your senses, and you tap Taehyung’s shoulder. “Tae.. we should.. inside.” 
 Lifting himself, Taehyung pecks your lips as his hungry eyes meet yours, and his pupils are intensely dilated. “Let’s go.” 
 Bursting through the doors, Taehyung wastes no time in dragging you towards the front desk. You’re both restless after Taehyung taps the bell to alert a worker. You’re clinging to his arm as you buzz, your horniness far too insatiable now. Taehyung similarly fidgets, impatiently drumming his fingers across the desk. 
 You both meet each other’s promiscuous gazes and giggle.
 A worker finally appears, and Taehyung’s quick to take action. He speedily snags you two a decent room for two and barely acknowledges the worker, hastily snatching the keys.
 Taehyung leads you through the first floor, and once you both spot a vacationing family crowding the elevator, the father of your child grunts with annoyance and tugs you towards the stairs. 
 You gasp once you start ascending with him, your giddy chuckles spilling everywhere. “Tae!! I’m not even wearing shoes!” 
 “Then come here!” Taehyung halts all movement and twirls you into him. You crash into his chest and he steals your mouth, his hands snug on your ass again. He kisses you like that all the way up the stairs, both of you idiotically laughing.
 When you and Taehyung pile into the room, he wastes no time in shoving you up against the door to shut it, his breaths hot and heavy as he makes out with you. He drops your heels somewhere and he chucks off his own sandy shoes and socks. 
 Again, he tugs at the back of your thighs and you leap into his arms, Taehyung leading you both towards the bed. 
 You expect your back to crash into sheets, but Taehyung instead settles your ass on the end of the bed. Delirious, all you can catch is a fireplace in the main area, perhaps a general understanding of your room, but that’s all useless when Taehyung’s eyeing you carnally, and slowly settling onto his knees before you. He spreads your legs apart and peers at your clothed sex, the action alone causing sticky essence to coat you. 
 “Tae,” you gasp, utterly weak for him from this angle. You brush his wet hair out of his face, but it only reveals his dangerously captivating gaze, his loud desire. 
 “It’s been way too long since I’ve done this to you.” He breathes, before his hands travel up your skirt and hook onto your panties, peeling them down your ass. He bunches up your dress with your help, and his arms hook underneath your thighs, locking you in place.
 Once your glistening, wet pussy is in his sight, he groans deeply. “Fuck me, you’re still so puffy and pretty.” His hot breath caresses your sensitive folds, and you feel alive. 
 “Taehy-” But you don’t finish, because after he gently thumbs your clit, he kisses your core. 
 You shiver, hyper-sensitive to his every breath. Taehyung’s mouth then slowly envelopes your pussy, and begins softly suckling on your labia. When his tongue comes out to play and glides through your folds, you grip the tresses of his hair so hard that he moans. 
 “Fuck, Tae!” You let out a shaky sigh, spreading your legs wider to provide him better access. He’s ravenous, the tip of his tongue toying with your clit as though it were a joystick, the thick, wet muscle ravaging your fluttering pussy hole. 
 Ecstasy leaks into your bloodstream, high off the feeling of his mouth devouring your sex. All you can hear are the wet, sloppy noises of him eating you out and his deep, throaty groans—it’s glorious. His tongue sends currents throughout your body, even bucking your hips forward just to feel his nose against your clit, tugging his fluffy locks. 
 “Shit, Y/N, you still taste so fucking good.” He praises, repeatedly attacking your cunt with wondrous kitten licks. “Tell me, have you been with other men? Have they eaten you out this good?” Taehyung asks, his voice slightly raspy and deeper than the ocean. 
 “What-why do you care?” 
 “Because you’re riding my face like a deprived slut,” Taehyung dives in to slide his tongue through your sex again, and you internally shiver. “Do you still like my tongue that much, baby?” 
 The ‘baby’ instantly melts you. You can’t even speak, truth be told, you haven’t been eaten out properly in ages. Your previous partners were bland, average men who lacked the skill. 
 And again, Taehyung has too wicked of a tongue. 
 Your silence earns you a smack to your thigh, Taehyung soon groping them. “Or have the men you been with just been incompetent, dumb fuckers that never granted you the pleasure, baby?” 
 Nodding to that incessantly, Taehyung’s eyes widen in shock, and he momentarily stops shoving his face into your heat. “You’re kidding… they didn’t eat you out?” 
 Finally meeting his eyes with your hooded ones, your face becomes flustered. You embarrassingly shake your head, hating that your desperation is sticking out like a sore thumb, but you have no control over it. 
 Taehyung actually scoffs. “No fucking way…” He shakes his head, laughing dryly to himself.
 Slightly confused by his words, you’re not given the chance to question him when Taehyung suddenly tugs you towards him. You fall into his lap with a squeak, and he shuffles back onto the soft sherpa rug upon the floor. 
 He unexpectedly leans back until he’s comfortably laying on the rug. Perplexed, you query him. “Taehyung, what are we doing?” 
 “You’re riding my face.” He declares, already positioning you above his chest, but you deny his movement with shock. 
 “But-But I-” 
 Taehyung’s hands travel up your body and hook onto the buttoned neckline of your summer dress. He impatiently tugs open the clasps, and your bare breasts spill out. You gasp, but Taehyung softly groans as he gropes your boobs, and you become the epitome of malleable clay in his hands when he grazes your nipples. 
 “Get on my face, Y/N.” He coos, and his gentle eyes compel you. “I’m eating you out in the best way possible. Has a man even let you sit on his face?” 
 “That-that’s not the point, and no way. I don’t wanna suffocate you.” You scramble to deny him.
 “To be honest, I wouldn’t mind if you did. I’m obsessed with your ass and thighs.” Taehyung shamelessly  admits.
 You gasp as you whack his shoulder, and Taehyung’s all giggly underneath you before he’s all business. “But seriously, hop on right now or I’ll spank you. I’m making sure you see stars tonight.” 
 Rolling your eyes, you huff. “Like you’ll even make that happen.” 
 “Our art school days beg to differ.” 
 Scorning him with angry eyes, you move to hit him again when suddenly, Taehyung grabs a hold of your wrists. He tugs you forward and grips your hips, mounting your pussy just above his mouth, and he licks his lips like a starved man. When you attempt to fight him, Taehyung marks his words by landing a firm smack to your ass. 
 You immediately squeak. “Tae!”
 “God fucking dammit, you still drip like honey too.” And Taehyung plops you down over his lips. You shudder so badly you nearly fall forward, but balance yourself on your palms and knees. 
 You feel colours explode between your thighs, hot spikes of arousal spreading across your skin. You’re just so sensitive down there, and when you feel his tongue lapping at you, his lips suckling and teasing your clit, you’re far too deprived to deny yourself his pleasure; especially when he moans to the taste of you, and the vibrations are otherworldly. 
 Once you peek down, you realize that your skirt covers his stunning face. Acting on impulse, you grab the hem and instantly strip off your dress, leaving you naked atop him. You breathe heavily once your damp skin is kissed by the cold air in the room, but Taehyung’s mouth making out with your sex is hot enough. Your eyes meet, and something carnal overwhelms you when you see how much he enjoys this. 
 Desirously, you begin rocking your hips over his face, riding him to the rhythm he flicks his tongue out and over your folds. Taehyung’s hands on your thighs help you along, guiding the motion of your hips.
 “Fuck… Taehyung.” You moan, your fingers messily tugging his hair as he immerses himself in you. 
 Taehyung speaks huskily in between licks. “Keep riding me, baby. Ride me like you used to, don’t be shy.” 
 The ode to your previous escapades years ago coils something inside you, moaning and sighing on repeat as his tongue meets your every thrust. “But-but it’s been years—“
 Suddenly, Taehyung has the audacity to bite your clit, and you instantly cry out. “Taehyung, what the fuck?!” 
 “I don’t care, Y/N.” Taehyung retorts. “You’re right in front of me, and I’m not leaving you this time.” 
 His words furrow your brows, and just as you open your mouth to question him, he speaks again. “Didn’t you always like shutting me up with your pussy, anyway?” 
 Smirking upon recalling the amount of times he ended up between your legs after a disagreement, your resistance crumbles, and so does your sanity. 
 You buckle your knees down and go to town on him, chasing the orgasm that bubbles inside your stomach as you ride his face. Your walls are clenching incessantly, pussy throbbing so badly you begin practically wailing, begging for your release. 
 And it seems Taehyung understands, because he shoves his tongue deeper inside you, teasing and circling your clit much harder than before. He even gets obnoxiously loud, the sloppy wet sounds he produces are nothing short of euphoria. 
 “Taehyung, fuck. Oh fuck me!” You squeal, experiencing cloud nine as ecstasy leaks into your every vein. 
 “Come for me, Y/N.” Taehyung rasps underneath you. “Come for me like you always did.” 
 And when he gently nibbles your clit again, the pain shoots spirals of arousal through your body, travelling up so high it all hits your head. Your hips pick up unimaginable speed, riding his face and nose vigorously until the coil in your gut utterly snaps. 
 Releasing with a shaky, unstable moan, you tremble over his face. Your orgasm sweeps the entirety of your body, not having experienced one this powerful in ages. 
 Climbing off to see the glorious provider of your orgasm, you’re mesmerized by the ethereal image. Taehyung breathes hard and heavy, chest inflating and deflating as his lips glisten with your cum. He eyes you with a shit-eating grin, even licking his luscious lips. 
 You can’t help but want to worship him, leaning over and planting your lips onto his mouth. You cup his cheeks as you weave your tongue with his, tasting yourself on him. 
 Taehyung softly moans into the kiss. You worship his jaw and pulse point next, kissing him where he’s weakest. Your hands roam his body greedily, tugging his shirt out of his waistband and undoing the rest of his buttons. You throw open his shirt and grapple onto his belt, unbuckling it with impatience. 
 Taehyung moans when you unzip his pants, leaning his head back in bliss when you graze his tented crotch. 
 “Fuck, Y/N…” He groans, losing his composure, and now you’re mesmerized by his easy reactions. He appears as though his sanity is hanging on by a thread, forearm thrown over his most likely hooded, delirious eyes. 
 “Fuck, Tae, now you tell me.” You sweeten your tone with seduction, hand sensuously groping his clothed cock through his pants, and he continuously shudders. “Have you been with other women after me? Any of them suck your dick better than me?” 
 Taehyung’s eyes immediately widen, caught like a deer in headlights. You chuckle when his cheeks redden a little, and he averts his eyes. 
 “What-what’s it to you?” He tries countering, and you can’t help but chuckle. Even if he had been with other women, you were confident that nobody gave him head better than you. 
 He always loved when you gave him head. 
 Letting that drive your confidence, you crawl down his body, laying kisses along his sternum, his chest, even teasing a nipple of his, and he shudders with deep moans. You chuckle with your boosted ego, gently pecking his stomach until you reach his faint happy trail, and Taehyung twitches. 
 “Y/N–” 
 But you only send him an angelically innocent pout, fingers hooking onto his bottoms to tug down. Once you do, you dig inside for his cock and begin stroking him, pumping his cock until you free it from its confines. Taehyung releases a broken groan as he lifts his head to watch you ogle at his leaking member. 
 He appears divine, practically appetizing the way his pretty dick throbs in your palm and his veins tell you enough about his self control. Taehyung was always the perfect type of big, that kind that teases your cervix and stretches you out divinely; it always felt like a privilege to pierce yourself on him. 
 Taehyung keeps close watch of you, and once he sees your lips descending towards his cock, he shakes his head. “No, no way. I’ll go insane.” 
 You’d really love to grant him mercy with that entreating look on his face, but listening to Taehyung?
 You rarely ever did that. 
 Playfully, you kiss his tip, providing little pecks that cause Taehyung to shudder. You slither your tongue out to play with his slit, fondling his very tip. 
 “Baby… holy shit.” He breathes. “I need your mouth, I need it right now.” 
 He sounds adorable when he begs, and you decide it’s been ages, you might as well grant him mercy. 
 Without a word, you plunge his thick cock into your drooling mouth. You ensure you slobber all over his dick, slowly swallowing him inch by inch before pulling back. 
 You tease him some more, never completely taking him all the way but at least allowing some inches, suctioning your cheeks and swirling your tongue over his elongated member. You use your hand to simultaneously pump him, tending to the inches of his dick you don’t fit until the end. 
 But it seems you’re too good, because within an instant, Taehyung’s fingers card through your hair and with a harsh push, forces your head down as his hips drive up into you, deep. You deep-throat him for all but two seconds before he draws out, the mesmerizing groan he lets out the most beautiful sound in the world. 
 He breathes erratically when he speaks next. “Fuck, Y/N. I’m sorry but… I’m fucking gone. Don’t tease me right now.” 
 It’s a rather kind warning, and you only let it fuel your boldness. This time when you dive in, you begin a bobbing motion over his cock that fits his tip against the back of your throat. Your tongue slithers all over him, swiping his tip deeply as Taehyung suffers underneath you. 
 “Y/N, fuck–” But he’s interrupted when your free hand glides up his thigh and cups his heavy balls in your palm. You give them a light squeeze, and Taehyung turns into the epitome of jelly. 
 “Oh Jesus fucking Christ–Y/N!” 
 He’s losing it, and you love it. His balls must be full of cum waiting to splurge all over your face, and his cock is rock-hard, feeling how tightly the veins strain because he’s already so close. 
 It makes you want to evilly chuckle. 
 You continue vacuuming his cock, hollowing your cheeks for a tight fit and swallowing whenever you can. You choke and gag and splutter around him, tears cascading down your cheeks but you could care less when Taehyung sounded like that—groaning deep and robustly, with need. 
 Taehyung lifts his head to catch a better glimpse of you sucking his dick, and you swear the way his eyes melt was indicative of him being in love. His hand in your hair even begins stroking you affectionately, his voice beyond pleasured. “You’re so good, Y/N. This feels so fucking good, I missed this.” 
 You moan as you bob over his cock—you’ve never felt so adored by him in your life. 
 “You are so fucking pretty,” he lovingly coos, “especially when you’re full of my cock, baby.” 
 Your heart flutters, and you try not to become shy. Your incessant swallowing, bobbing and sucking is working, because there’s a brief moment where Taehyung reciprocates—driving up into your mouth from underneath with a tight grip on your hair, groans feral as he annihilates your throat. 
 But to your surprise, Taehyung actually tugs you off his cock. Perplexed, you shoot him the most shocked, battered face in the world. “Tae, what the fuck?” 
 But he doesn’t answer with words, rather, his actions. All you do is blink before Taehyung disappears from underneath you, and suddenly you’re the one underneath.
 Now your back is against the soft sherpa rug, the warm, tender fireplace crackling beside you two, and it’s as though being wet from the beach didn’t mean a thing. 
 Taehyung’s onyx, though thoughtful eyes bore into yours as he hovers above you, and you feel so loved—protected. “Taehyung, what are you doing?” 
 He hushes you with a finger to your lips, before trailing that hand down your body. Down, down, down until he cups your sex, and you gasp, your eyes hot on each other. 
 Without warning, Taehyung gathers your slick from your cunt, and unexpectedly pushes his fore finger inside the warm confines of your heat. You release a high-pitched moan, squirming once the sensation of something inside you wracks your walls. 
 “Oh Taehyung, oh fuck.” 
 “Shit, I remember how much of a cute slut you become when I finger you.” Shuddering pathetically, you bite your lip to suppress your moans. He’s right; nothing feels better than being fingered by Taehyung
—three of his slender, long fingers alone can feel like a dick. 
 In that respect, Taehyung adds another finger, and you swear stars really do dance circles around you. He encloses you underneath him and breathes hotly against your lips, his intense eyes on you as he observes your every reaction. Perhaps it’s the eye contact that makes everything feel so much more vivid, because your insides are already churning with arousal. 
 He fingers you slowly, deliberately, pecking you in between as your nails scratch down his chest. Taehyung cracks an amused side-smirk. “Still a cute slut.” 
 Whimpering, you hook onto his neck, begging him. “Taehyung, please, you need to get inside me.” 
 “But I already am.” He cleverly counters, kissing you. “Besides, your face is too cute when I finger you. Let me see it longer.” 
 Taehyung then decides to play with fire, and suddenly, his fingers curl into a ‘come hither’ motion, and he massages your frontal walls gloriously, causing your eyes to flutter shut with a drawn out moan. He fucks his fingers deep inside you, and he watches your expression to mirror it, completely entranced by you in the throes of your pleasure. 
 “So fucking cute.” He praises, kissing your forehead. 
 “Taehyung,” your lips tremble, hands clawing at him again. “Inside… your cock… please.” 
 “Please what, Y/N?” 
 “Please fuck me, why won’t you fuck me?” You whimper, round eyes glistening with gentle tears as you yearn for every inch of him. 
 Taehyung exhales shakily, as though you’ll never know how much he desires you, his fingers softly fucking you against the floor. “I want to fuck you, baby, so bad. But I want this to last longer. I don’t want this to end.” 
 There’s a subtle kind of agony in his tone, it pierces your chest. You softly cradle his cheek, and your eyes soften. “Then… then don’t let it.” You coo. “Get inside me, Tae, and don’t let it end.” 
 Lips hanging open as he breathes, his eyes soft, Taehyung molds your mouths for an amorous kiss, and he draws his fingers out of you. He quickly removes his shirt and bottoms, leaving him naked above you, and you can’t help but reach out and roam his figure with fascination.  
 You pulse emptily for him, but find the sight of him pumping his own cock, coating himself with your essence is enough to fill you up again. He keeps an eye on you as he does so, leaning down to peck your lips. “Condom?” 
 You laugh. “Guess that’s not really our thing, huh?” 
 Taehyung chuckles, his smile radiant. “We don’t like when there’s something in our way, do we?” 
 Appreciating his witty mouth, you prop up to kiss him. “Get inside me, baby daddy.” 
 He kisses you back. “Will do, baby momma.” 
 Taehyung then carefully breaches your hole with his tip, and you gasp shakily, stunned by how familiar something can feel, and yet so foreign. Taehyung flits up from between your legs, almost questioning you. You nod in confirmation, and he plunges his fat cock in.
 You both moan harmoniously as Taehyung eases himself inside your velvet sex, sliding gloriously into your walls that smother him tightly. 
 “Oh fuck, Tae…” you sigh. “You’re big, you feel so fucking big.” 
 “I know, baby.” He purrs, nudging your nose with his own. “I’ll go slower.” 
 You shiver when he inserts himself more gently; you feel every inch of him. Taehyung’s hands rest either side of you, gripping the rug underneath you roughly. His eyes are hazed over with pleasure, breathing ruggedly as he sheaths his cock inside you. 
 When his dick is completely enveloped by your pussy, even kissing your cervix, Taehyung groans so loudly the sound alone leaves you panting. He splits you open gloriously, and a burn has never felt so divine. Your legs spread even further apart to allow Taehyung more room, his hips stilled as he relishes in the tight fit of your pussy. 
 “Y/N… shit,” he curses, his forehead falling against yours. “You’re so… fuck.” 
 “So what, Tae?” 
 “So tight… still so warm.” Taehyung seems as though he’s exercising all forms of self-control. You yearn to cradle him closer, whisper to him that it’s alright to move, but your body feels a frigid chill.  
 Your dry skin now feels cold after having been in the sea water, and before you know it, your teeth are chattering. Taehyung’s