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#bts fanfics
taetaespeaches · 29 days ago
“I’m not walking out on you.”
yoongi x reader (oc) genre: angst beta readers: @aurorassadprosee; @stayjimin​  word count: 6.3K
a/n: Ok lovelies, there’s no resolution to the fight in this yet lol. Reader/Kid is experiencing frustration along with a confusing mix of emotions and Yoongi is trying to keep up and make amends and yeah. I guess it’s just like sad? and frustrating? Anyways, here’s 6.3K words of Kid denying her emotions and pretending to not care nearly as much as she does. I hope you all enjoy and thanks for reading! :)) 
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Staring at the back of your boyfriend’s head, you picked at your nails nervously. He was busy, you knew that, but he was always busy these days. One cancelled plan is understandable, hell even the second cancellation was valid with his line of work, but that didn’t keep you from feeling a bit rejected. You wanted to spend time with him and those desires were starting to take over your impulses as well as your emotions.
As he clicked away on his keyboard, one headphone over his ear as the other was pulled off in case you called for his attention, you worked up the courage to do just that. It’s just Yoongi, you thought to yourself. The worst he would do is tell you he can’t spare the time for you later, you could handle that, even if you didn’t want to hear any variation of rejection from him. Sighing at yourself, you sat up straight on his studio couch. “Hey, Yoongi?”
A hum met your ears as he quickly clicked a few more things on his monitor before pulling the headphones down to rest around his neck. “What’s up, Kid?” He asked, turning around in his chair to face you. He was so clueless to everything swirling around your head, and that was both assuring and frustrating. If he wasn’t concerned then that should be a good sign, right? But then again, if there was no problems on his horizon then why were you so stressed from your point of view?
“Are you gonna be busy tonight?” You asked, an edge of tentativeness in your tone that Yoongi easily picked up on. A pout slowly formed on his lips as he looked back at his monitor and thought for a moment.
“I don’t have to be,” he mumbled, looking back to you with a soft gaze.
“Yeah?” You questioned, staring at him intently. “It’s ok if you need to work, it’s just, I was thinking we could hang out just the two of us. Without work.” You waited for him to respond but he made no move to speak, simply watching you carefully instead. “It’s just you’ve been so busy and it’s been a few weeks since we hung out just us two without some sort of work invol-” you began to ramble on, over-explaining yourself out of nervousness.
“Kid, it’s ok, we can have a date night,” he interrupted you, flashing you a small gummy grin, entertained by your almost shy behavior. It was rare that he saw you act this way. Normally, you adored that smile, always wanting to see more of it. But the situation was becoming humiliating for you, as though you were begging for his attention; as though you weren’t ok without it. The smile taunted you and your vulnerability. “Wanna go out, or just at your place?”
Biting back your frustration, you smirked. “I was just thinking at my place. Maybe some takeout? A movie?”
“Sounds great,” he replied simply, nodding once in agreement. “That all you wanted to talk about?” He asked, already turning back toward the screen. If there was more you wanted to discuss, did he even care? You didn’t come here to waste your time on talking to the back of his head. Chewing on your lip, you nodded in reply, despite him not seeing it. Not getting a verbal response from you, however, had him looking over his shoulder at you. You nodded again upon making eye contact with him.  
The man watched you for a moment longer before settling back into his chair, his hand hovering over the music equipment that he had explained to you how to use before, though you remained mostly clueless. As though he was listening for action from you, not hearing any movement, he shifted his hand off of the soundboard.
“You ok?” He asked. You wanted to believe his attention was mostly directed to you, despite his eyes facing the monitor on his desk.
Resisting the urge to roll your eyes at his question, you glared at the back of his head. Were you ok? What a dumb question, you thought. You were feeling smaller than ever, all but begging your own boyfriend to take a break from work to spend some time with you. You were embarrassed and if you were being honest with yourself, you were feeling a bit neglected by him. He loved you, you weren’t silly enough to doubt that. But you doubted how much of his time he was willing to dedicate to you. And you didn’t appreciate feeling needy.
You slowly stood from the couch, grabbing your bag as you looked around quickly. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you said simply with a small sigh, walking toward him. “I’ll let you get some work done,” you told him as you neared him, your hands finding the back of his chair. Lowering your lips to the back of his head, you kissed his hair softly.
“You’re leaving?” He asked, craning his neck slightly to look back at you. Nodding at him, you watched as a small pout formed on his lips, which you were sure he didn’t even realize he was doing. The man had an adorable natural pout that just planted itself on his lips, making him utterly endearing. “Ok, well I’ll see you tonight, what time should I be there?”
“Uh, 8?” You suggested, watching him carefully as he turned back to his computer, as though he was thinking about how much work he could fit in between now and then.
“Is 8:30 ok?” He asked, his eyes searching your features as you forced a small smile.
“Sure,” you smiled as assuringly as you could. “Whatever you want,” you nodded, just as the man reached for your waist, your stomach tingling at his touch. It hadn’t even been that long since you’d been intimate, but any sign of interest from him had you reeling for more over the past couple weeks. It was the feeling of being wanted; that feeling of your heart swelling within your chest with the knowledge that someone desires the nearness of you. That he desires you.
“I can’t wait,” he told you, puckering his lips, a light chuckle sounding from you as you lowered your mouth to his. The kiss was gentle and quick, and when you stepped away, you were already missing his touch as his hand slid from your frame and landed in his lap. Leaving the studio, you flashed a peace sign back at him, hearing the scoff he let out at the action. Taking one look back at him as you opened his studio door, you saw him watch you as you left.
“Don’t be late, Min,” you sassed teasingly as you stepped into the hallway, Yoongi chuckling as you left his studio.
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He’s not even late yet, you tried to point out to yourself. It was only 8:25. However, you couldn’t help the nagging in your mind that repeatedly told you, he’ll be late.
Just a month ago you would have never felt nervous asking your boyfriend to spend time with you but there you were, hours earlier, feeling small in his presence as though you were begging for his attention. Thinking back on the interaction, the way he smiled at your nerves, you felt yourself become angry. Maybe you were overreacting, especially since you hadn’t spoken to him regarding your recent feelings, but was he not missing you the way you were him? You didn’t like being made to feel like you needed his time. I don’t need anyone. As you worked yourself up through nothing but your own thoughts, a little fire in the pit of your stomach started growing with every passing minute that you sat alone in your apartment. Waiting for him.
I should relax. He was coming over to see you, afterall. But why did it feel like such a burden for him to do so? You had no interest in being anyone’s burden, and especially not Yoongi’s.
Tired of sitting there with your mind overtaken by your boyfriend, you tried to busy yourself with random tasks around your bedroom. Locking your eyes on the bed, you began ripping pillows and blankets off of it, throwing them to the ground with huffs and grunts. Bunching all of the sheets and blankets and pillowcases in your arms, you hauled them to the washer, dropping them on top of it before going to retrieve new sheets.
Walking back into your room, tossing the bedding onto the mattress, you quickly checked your phone to find the screen displaying 8:34 and absolutely no messages. Late. And not a word about it, you thought. Pushing him out of your mind, though it was impossible, you continued making the bed in anger. You let out yells of frustration as the fitted sheet pulled off the corner of the mattress one too many times for your level of patience before halting your actions altogether and taking a moment to simply glare at the bed.
As your anger bubbled up within you, you wondered if you even had reason to be so upset. Giving him the benefit of the doubt, work is busy right now, he’s up against deadlines, he wants to be here, you’re just drawing conclusions that aren’t there, you finished making the bed as you calmed your rage. The last thing you wanted was for this night to be ruined, you needed to get your emotions under control.
Checking your phone once more, you read the time; 8:41 p.m. He was officially over ten minutes late, and you weren’t really in the mood to grant a grace period. Before you could process your feelings, however, a knock sounded on the door and instead of anger you just felt relief as you rushed to open it. Swinging the door ajar, the anger was back within a second. Letting out an involuntary huff, your skin felt like it was burning due to the fire within you reigniting instantly. Because it wasn’t Yoongi on the other side of the door, but rather the takeout you had ordered, and your boyfriend still hadn’t arrived at your place.
Forcing a smile and friendly demeanor, you paid the man before taking the food from his hands. “Thanks,” you smiled, and just before closing the door, you spotted Yoongi a few feet away, giving a polite nod to the delivery man before his eyes found yours.
“Hey, sorry I’m late,” he smiled at you as you stared at him. Stepping back inside your apartment, your hands full with the bags of food, Yoongi had to quickly start into a jog to catch the door before it closed on him. When you heard him take his shoes off in the entry, you rolled your eyes, finding annoyance in the fact that he made it inside before the door slammed in his face. With your back to the man, you took a deep breath, preparing to let all of your anger go to save the evening that you had been craving so much. You wanted this date, don’t let it get ruined, you thought.
Rounding the kitchen island, you turned to face him, immediately meeting his gaze. You hated the way your heart swelled in response to how adorable he looked. It wasn’t fair that he still looked so soft and kind even when you were mad at him.
“Let me pay you back for that,” he nodded to the food you had just set on the counter. No fucking way. There was no way in hell he was paying for the food on the date that he didn’t even seem excited to come to.
Shaking your head, you forced another smile, trying your best to appear happy and unbothered. “No, that’s fine, this was my idea anyway, I asked you here,” you reminded him.
And had Yoongi known how the feelings of rejection had been building up within you, those words would have been his first indication of the anger you felt, and he would have tried to make amends right then and there. But you hadn’t been communicating your disappointment over the past couple weeks, and he had been too busy and oblivious to notice, leaving both of you in the dark with each other.
“Alright,” he quietly and skeptically agreed, inspecting your posture, your features, the way you avoided his eye contact. He knew you much too well to still be oblivious to your mood, the man clocking the front of feigned positivity you were presenting to him. “Well, next time then,” Yoongi told you gently, trying to assure you without directly addressing the issue, knowing it could trigger more anger from you. “It’s on me.”
Smiling just slightly, feigned once again, as you dug the food out of the bags, you nodded. “Sure,” you quietly agreed, the man noticing your distant behavior but choosing not to comment on it quite yet. “Next time.” When exactly there would be a next time, you weren’t sure, as alone time outside of the man’s studio had become quite rare for the two of you. “What do you wanna watch?” You lifted your gaze to look at the television screen that displayed your Netflix profile, Yoongi’s attention following the direction of yours.
As your eyes slowly returned to the food that you set out, Yoongi’s eyes shifted from the screen to you. “Whatever you want, Kid,” he said gently, watching you carefully.
You nearly scoffed at the comment, finding it almost humorous that suddenly your opinions and desires mattered. “Oh, my wants matter to you now?” You asked, wearing a charming as ever smile as the man’s eyebrows scrunched in response. Just as he opened his mouth to reply, you turned your back on him and the containers of food to grab a few plates from the cupboard.
“What was that?” He asked, already tired of tiptoeing around your passive aggressiveness.
Sighing, you shook your head. “It was nothing, Yoongi,” you replied, pulling two plates from the cupboard and setting them on the counter. “Grab some food, I’ll just pick something,” you told him, leaving him alone in the kitchen as you started toward the living room, picking up the remote. Sitting down on the couch, you began clicking through titles as Yoongi stood in the kitchen watching you. With his hands pressed against the edge of the counter, he tried to figure out how to handle the situation between you both.
Ducking his head toward the smooth surface, he let out a sigh of his own before reluctantly pushing himself from the counter and following you into the living room. “Hey, are you upset with me?” He called out to you, appearing at the side of the couch before you could answer.
“No, I’m not,” you told him, keeping your eyes on the screen as you continued to scan through titles while Yoongi continued looking at you. Sitting in silence for a moment, you hovered over some comedy that you had hardly even heard of. “How about this one?” You asked, Yoongi’s eyes slowly drifting from you to look at the movie.
“Yeah sure, that sounds fine,” he replied, only partially interested, and you both had a feeling neither of you would even be watching the film anymore. You were too busy stewing in your frustration, and Yoongi was occupied with trying to make things right with you.
After starting the film and setting the remote on the coffee table, you turned to look up at Yoongi, inspecting him. “You didn’t grab any food?” You asked, Yoongi shaking his head slowly.
“I will in a minute, just,” he started, his eyes searching your face before he shuffled toward you and took a seat. Setting his hand on your thigh just above your knee, he tilted his head just slightly as his eyes met yours. “I’m sorry I was late,” he apologized once again, this time with intention and truth. “I got caught up, and that’s not an excuse, it’s my bad, and I’m sorry I kept you waiting.”
Staring at the sincerity in his gaze, you couldn’t figure out if the expression relieved your anger or just made it more severe. Sitting there with your jaw clenched, Yoongi chewed slightly on the inside of his bottom lip.
“I really am sorry,” he continued. “I’ve been excited for this all day, I promise,” he assured you, his body tense as he awaited your response. “My tardiness was just me being dumb, it had nothing to do with you or how badly I want to be here with you.”
You were tentative, but you found yourself believing his words. Yoongi’s stare was studying your features carefully when the tension in your face and shoulders relaxed just slightly. Taking the change in your demeanor as a small sign of forgiveness, he moved his hand from your leg to take yours in it. Bringing it to his mouth, he left a sweet kiss to your knuckles.
“Hey,” he whispered to you, a small sorry smile curving on his lips. “I’ve missed you.” His thumb ran soothingly along your thumb and you felt the anger melt off of you just slightly. Fights were rarely serious between you both, and a simple conclusion almost always solved things. An apology, an acceptance, a sweet gummy smile and a soft kiss and things usually returned back to normal.
Sighing, you broke eye contact as you looked down at your hand in his. Just let it go. “I missed you too,” you whispered, the man not knowing just how deeply you meant it. You missed him, you missed feeling wanted, you missed feeling like a priority, you missed the nearness of him. You were still upset, but you would give him the night to make it up to you.
Just as you prepared to lean into him to cuddle up against his side, you were interrupted by a vibration from his pocket. When the man dropped your hand to check the phone, your jaw clenched once again. And when he chose to begin replying to the text rather than ignoring it and setting the device aside, you scoffed.
Barely looking up at you, he mumbled a half-assed apology before quickly typing on the device. “It’s one of the producers I’m working with for this song, just one sec,” he told you as he tried to type out his reply as quickly as possible, his attention divided.
Nodding, you turned your face from him and locked your eyes on the remote as he texted away. No longer concerned with saving the evening, you grabbed the remote and clicked the tv off before standing up, Yoongi’s eyes darting first to the television screen, and then to you, his gaze wide as confusion etched across his features.
“Hey, what are you doing?” He asked, worry evident in his tone as he sat up and dropped the phone mid-text to grab your hand before you could walk away. “I’m sorry, the text was just going to take a second, I’ll shut my phone off if you want.”
“You shouldn’t have to shut your phone off to be present with me, you should just want to be here together,” you told him bitterly, Yoongi staring up at you as he tried to think of what to say.
“I’m sorry I upset you, Kid, I didn’t mean to,” he apologized again, you shaking your head as you looked away from him. He didn’t upset you, he didn’t have the power to upset you, you stubbornly told yourself.
“I’m not upset,” you refuted sternly. Yoongi’s eyebrows pulled together in question at your comment, as your behavior certainly stated otherwise.
“You definitely act upset,” he replied, causing you to glare down at him. Of course you were upset but you found yourself not wanting to admit that to him, not wanting to give him that power over your emotions.
“So now you’re gonna tell me what I am?” You questioned him, deflecting from the actual issues at hand and instead targeting your anger at him in petty ways. It wasn’t constructive but you didn’t care about that in the moment.
“I’m not trying to tell you what you are- I just-” He struggled to find a response as you tugged on your hand to have him let go of it, which he did reluctantly. However, he stood up with you so you were face to face as the man tried to sort through the issue. “I fucked up, you have every right to be pissed at me.”
“I know that, I don’t need your permission to be mad,” you replied back bitterly, still directing the argument from where he wanted it to be, and where it needed to be.
“That’s not what I meant,” he quickly defended, sighing as he tried to re-focus you both back to why you were upset. He was late and he wasn’t present enough, that’s where you needed to let your anger out.
However, instead of getting into what had upset you in the first place, you chose to step away from him, starting toward the kitchen. A sigh sounded from Yoongi just before the man stood and followed you. “Kid, please talk to me.”
“Look, I just think that if you don’t want to spend time with me you should just say that rather than showing up late and then being disconnected,” you turned around and told him angrily, a look of surprise overtaking your boyfriend’s face as he took the comment to heart.
“What?” He simply asked, halting halfway to the kitchen, too stunned to say anything more.
“I had to work up the courage to even ask you to spend time with me tonight and it’s not a good feeling for you to act like you’re being burdened by being here,” you ranted to him, feeling nothing but embarrassment, anger, and shame. If you had just told him you missed him and wished he made more time for you, you were sure he would have taken your words to heart and made sure to try harder. But you were pissed, and in the moment, you didn’t care about actually fixing the issue. You just wanted to release your irritation, and Yoongi became your target. “I’m not a fucking burden.”
“Of course you’re not a burden,” he quickly replied. “What do you mean you had to work up the courage?” He asked in confusion and concern. Looking at the sadness that resided in his eyes, you knew you should have approached this conversation differently, but it was as though you couldn’t stop yourself from digging yourself deeper. You could see yourself making things worse, but all you cared about was getting your anger out. “I’m not burdened by being here, and I’m not burdened by you. Ever. I want to be here, I love you,” he told you sadly.
Of course he loved you, you knew that. But love wasn’t some fix all emotion that erased your feelings of neglect and rejection. And from your experience, love was conditional, and it was wavering, and it didn’t always mean the person who loved you enjoyed being in your presence. If Yoongi didn’t want to spend time with you, then you didn’t need him.
“Actions speak louder than words, you know,” you told him, feigning disinterest as you began placing the food containers in the fridge, fully aware that neither of you would be eating it any time soon.
“I’m here,” he pointed out, staring you down as you evaded meeting his gaze. Closing the refrigerator door, you chewed on your lip as your body began nearly trembling with anxiety and anger. You were regretting the whole fight, you wanted to go back to the start of the night. If you could start over, you would push down your feelings and none of this would have had to be discussed.
Refusing to reveal any of that to him though, you scoffed and nodded unconvincingly. “Right, yeah, you’re so right,” you sarcastically started. “And I suppose I should get on my knees and thank you for gracing me with your presence-”
“Jesus christ,” he sighed overtop of you, causing you to turn and look at him, making eye contact with the frustration written all over his features. “I’m sorry I was late, I’m sorry I answered the text, I’m sorry-”
“Stop apologizing,” you demanded, your tone full of spite and your voice raised. “I’m sure you’re sorry for cancelling our last two dates too, right?” You met his eyes, the man’s angry expression instantly dropping as guilt rushed over him, as he realized that was why you were nervous to ask him to spend time with you. You’d been rejected. “Don’t be sorry, it doesn’t even matter.”
Before he could respond to you, you left down the hallway, Yoongi rushing around the island to follow you. “Don’t walk away, we have to talk about stuff like this,” he insisted. The conflict was reaching a point where you knew you were going to say something you’d regret, but he was pushing and you had no self-restraint left.
“There’s nothing to talk about,” you replied, stopping in front of the washer and dryer. As you began loading the sheets into the machine for no real reason beyond trying to play indifferent, Yoongi appeared beside you.
“Kid,” he pleaded. “Baby, we can’t fix anything if we don’t talk,” Yoongi pointed out. You could tell he was trying to salvage the fight, find and correct the root cause, and make amends. Fights were so rare in your relationship, you could tell he was reeling over the fact that it was happening at all, and that a conclusion hadn’t been met yet. And though he tried to remain calm, you could see and hear the panic rushing through him.
However, though you weren’t a fan of conflict and fighting, it wasn’t easy for you to lower your guard to allow amends to be made. You were mad, and though you didn’t want to hurt him, you had pride. Stupid fucking pride. “Whatever,” you breathed out, a final attempt to leave the argument be and call it a night.
Yoongi sighed after you spoke the single word. “Don’t say whatever,” he shook his head in defeat. “Don’t throw out words that mean nothing, say what you want to say.”
“I don’t want to say anything anymore, I don’t want to get into this,” you continued to resist addressing your actual feelings. How could you backtrack now and simply say I’ve missed you, I just want more of your time, I want more of your attention? I feel rejected.
“You have nothing to say?” He asked, getting nothing but your silence in return. “Well bullshit, whether you want to get into it or not we need to fix this.” As you poured detergent into the washing machine, Yoongi huffed. “Jesus christ, Kid.” He was becoming more and more frustrated with you, and had you been in a more calm state of mind, you wouldn’t have blamed him for his growing impatience. In the moment, however, as Yoongi was feeling a mixture of confusion, frustration, and sorrow, you were simply angry and embarrassed. Embarrassed for letting your anger show through; for the piece of you that very much did want and maybe even need Yoongi to be around.
“What?” You asked, your tone full of malice as you turned to look at him. As your next words clung to the tip of your tongue, you tried to stop yourself from speaking them. His features were so soft, the pout sitting cutely and pitifully on his lips. But it was as though you were trying to self-destruct, your emotions too high, your pride too overbearing. “Why are you even still here? Now you want to stay and fight?”
“What?” The way his eyes filled with an expression of shame, you knew he was aware of what you were alluding to. And it tugged at your heart. You wanted to stop. So why didn’t you?
“I’m just surprised you’re not halfway out the door already,” you told him angrily. As the words struck the man, you felt a rush of guilt and regret for having said them, but also a sense of relief.
When you and Yoongi first started seeing each other, you had a major conflict, a tentativeness to commit on his behalf, which led to him walking out on you before the fight could escalate too far, or really even get started. Nothing was truly addressed before he gave up. And though he came back eventually and you told him he was forgiven, you knew it took a long time for him to forgive himself for that. He admitted that he should have stayed and had the fight with you, and he promised he wouldn’t leave again. But there you were, not even giving him a chance to prove that as you brought up past ghosts that haunted the man more than you even realized. But despite the hurt that was evident in Yoongi’s eyes, there was still that relief within you.
“What are you talking about?” He asked, wanting confirmation that you were on the same page. You were backing him up against the blade. And with one more comment, you were pushing him to the hilt.
“You haven’t always been the type to stick it out and fight for me, that’s all,” you spoke with spite.
“Are you still hurt by the past?” He asked through a hoarse voice. It sounded as though his emotions were lodged in his throat, and he was struggling to keep them at bay. Walking out that night and effectively hurting you was one of his biggest mistakes, and there he was, learning just then almost a year later, that it was still hurting you.
“No,” you said simply. But was that the honest answer? Attempting to sort through your own emotions, you weren’t sure how you felt. You had thought you were over it, Yoongi earned your forgiveness long ago. Yet, there was still that relief, as though speaking the words into existence lifted a weight off your shoulders that you didn’t even know you were carrying. You were still hurt.
And that realization was all the more embarrassing, putting you even more on the defense.
“No?” He asked, gaging your feelings as he watched you carefully. “It sounds like you’re hurt, Kid,” he commented, studying your features as you glared at him.
“Stop telling me what I am,” you bit back.
“Fine, if you’re not hurt by it then what? Have you just been holding on to that to throw in my face?” He asked, this time with his own malice lacing his tone. With a clearer mind, you would have understood his anger. If you weren’t hurt by it, then what was your goal with digging up the past? Bringing up the mistake that the man deeply regretted, and using it against him in an unrelated fight was cruel. But with your judgement clouded by your high emotions and even more so, the presence of your ego and pride, you failed to see his side of things and instead became angrier than before.
“I haven’t been holding onto anything,” you argued, “and you don’t have the power over me to hurt me, especially over something that happened almost a year ago,” you informed him. But it was a lie. Of course he had the power to hurt you, he held your heart within his palm. Lucky for you, Yoongi was always gentle, never too caught up in his own pain or feelings to squeeze too hard. Your heart was safe with him. And that’s what you realized in that moment, when he responded with empathy and sorrow, rather than swinging back at you with anger of his own. Even angry and hurt by you, he refused to return the blow.
“I care about you,” he told you simply, the man’s face tense as though he was concealing his emotions. “I’m sorry if my actions, past and present, have made it difficult for you to feel that. That’s on me,” he nodded at his own words. Everything from his sad expression to his slumped posture displayed defeat. As you were standing there stubborn and prideful, refusing to lower your defenses, he was dropping all masks and walls.
As you watched him direct his gaze to the floor, as though he felt too much shame to meet your eyes, you realized how much you hated this entire situation you dragged you both in. He was late and maybe he wasn’t as present as you wanted him to be, and being upset about that was valid, but you let yourself get caught up in feelings that weren’t entirely related to him. Love had always been conditional in your life, much like a transaction.
Though they didn’t always realize it, your parents only showed love, only wanted you around, when you were doing something for them. When you were fulfilling their image of what a perfect daughter was. It had been your experience in past relationships as well. When Yoongi stopped coming around as much, despite having valid reasons of deadlines and pressure of an intense and involved career, you took it as a sign of him pulling away or not caring as much, because you weren’t doing enough or being enough. It made you feel as though you were no longer what he wanted as you were, and you had to start being something different or giving something more to keep his interest. And that pissed you off. You refused to be treated like that by Yoongi, because he never had treated you like that. But that’s when you realized, he still wasn’t loving you in the way you’d experienced in the past. That wasn’t Yoongi.
There he was completely defenseless, full of shame and heartbroken for making you feel anything less than loved sincerely, making you realize that your assumptions were wrong. He loved you for you. There was validity to your concerns and your anger with his recent actions, but you should have addressed the whole thing differently. Why didn’t you just talk to him about it?
With your lack of response, Yoongi sighed once again before stepping away from you. “I’ll sleep on the couch,” he told you before turning around. However, halfway down the hall, he rotated his body to face you. “I’m not walking out on you,” he noted, defending himself while assuring you. “But this isn’t constructive and I’m not letting us hurt each other more than we already have.” At the word hurt leaving his lips, it fully hit you how much damage you may have just inflicted upon the security in your relationship, and it felt like you just threw yourself onto the blade you had backed him into.
“I love you,” he whispered, looking to the wall to evade your gaze. “I’m sorry you haven’t been feeling that.”
With those words, the mask you had been sporting all evening was gone, and the anger within you that was scorching previously had completely burned out, leaving you cold and regretful. Feeling your emotions rise within you, it was only a matter of moments until you would be crying, and you had no right to shed tears in front of Yoongi right then. It would only make him feel worse than he already did. So without a word, you gave him a single nod, holding onto your last shred of indifference before turning away from him and exiting into your room, shutting the door behind you without a single look back.
Yoongi watched you depart, the man swallowing in an attempt to hold in his own mix of emotions. You were good at concealing what you felt, but you exhibited small gives that Yoongi could pick up on to read your true emotions. He saw the way guilt flooded your eyes when he told you he loved you, he noticed how your jaw clenched and you held your breath as you stubbornly halted your tears. He knew you already regretted everything. And he therefore knew that you would start convincing yourself that your behavior drove a wedge between you both, and that he would start removing his love from you. But it didn’t work that way, and he needed you to know that.
Making his way to your door, he placed his hands on each side of the frame, his head hung down as he directed his gaze to the floor. “My love for you isn’t conditional,” he called out through the wood, your head snapping toward the closed door as you listened to him intently. His voice was muffled but his intentions were clear. He was swallowing every last bit of his pride to assure you. “I hate how things escalated tonight, but I’m not going anywhere. I’ll see you in the morning.”
The words lodged a sob in the center of your throat at the pure sincerity of them. He loved you, even through your fight and your clear attempts at hurting him, he just fucking loved you. And now you felt even more guilty because you weren’t sure you were deserving of that kind of love. He was there, in your apartment, offering you this unadulterated affection that you had never experienced before Yoongi, and you didn’t feel worthy of it. But he was giving it to you anyway.
Sitting at the edge of your bed, all you could do was regret and cry as Yoongi’s broken appearance sat at the forefront of your mind. There were no winners in this. And you missed Yoongi more than ever.
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bbtsficrecs · a month ago
BTS fanfic recs. part 1
This is a list of bts fanfics that I highly recommend! Don’t you worry, more members will be added along the way. If you ever wanna talk about one of the fanfics or recommend me one, hit me up! Remember to send some love to these amazing authors. Please let me know if some of the links don’t work. Happy reading!
Part 2 will be uploaded soon, so be sure to follow me for the next recommendations!
Disclaimer: if this post seems familiar it’s because I had to move blogs and repost everything 🥲
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Evolution of a lovers heart (fluff, angst) 1, 2, 3, 4 (ongoing) | Fuckboy!AU, +55,5k The rules are simple: first one to take the virginity wins.
Inkling (smut, angst) | TattooArtist!AU, 17,7k Jungkook is your brother’s boyfriend’s co-worker, they own a tattoo and piercing parlour. In other words, he’s tall, gorgeous, has his passion literally etched into his skin, looks incredibly good in a man-bun, and is semi-unattainable for you. Why? Well…you’re not entirely sure but him ditching right after a very heated make-out session sure isn’t a good sign. His extremely poor mood the next week sure isn’t either, but the only way to fix it is to face the beast head-on. Right?
Pretty boy (smut, fluff) | Friends to secret lovers, 4k He’s just a pretty boy, a pretty boy ~ you wanna be his pretty toy.
The likelihood of being on your mind (fluff, angst) | Childhood friends to lovers, 18,2k You don’t think about Jeon Jungkook that often, but when you do, it’s always followed by feelings of antipathy. and really, why think of him when you could be thinking about soccer captain, Kim Seokjin instead? You have your heart set on Seokjin. There is nothing you want more than to make him yours. But of course, Jungkook has to throw a wrench in it.
The bet (smut) | Boyfriend!AU, 2,7k How a bet turned into public sex
On call 1, 2 (smut, humor) | Strangers to lovers, 9,6k After a catastrophic first date, you end up leaving the hospital angry, tired and date-less. Hoping to have a drink or five, you end up in a nearby bar, sitting next to the same doctor who caught your eye earlier.
Cockblocked (smut, fluff) | Roomates!AU, 15,8k In which a pair of best friends are hopelessly in love with one another but they’re both too dumb to realize, even when everyone around them are dropping hints every five minutes. or alternatively; “you’re an idiot for thinking I wouldn’t love you back.”
Everything I ever wanted (fluff) Cockblocked drabble | Roomates!AU, 780 In which you get caught slipping out of Jeongguk’s bedroom.
Hurts good (smut, fluff, angst) | Idol!AU, 3,3k Jungkook stands you up after promising to take you out. You’re pissed at him but he makes up for it in all the right ways.
Only mine (smut, fluff?) | Jealousy!AU, 5,1k In which Jungkook gets jealous
Too late (angst) | Divorce!AU His sexual attraction had taken his attention away from the woman he should’ve stayed with forever and his urges ruined his marriage that was perfectly fine, and although the newly-found pleasure is euphoric… he can’t help but feel guilty.
Not too late? (angst) | Divorce!AU
Dilf Jungkook (smut) | Husband!AU The grocery store girl hits on your husband.
Dilf Jungkook part 2 (smut, crack) | Husband!AU New parents jk & you’s sex life isn’t at all what it used to be, so when the opportunity presents itself, you grab it.
The art of wanting (smut) | Strangers to lovers, 10,3k You find a baby in your store and in turn, a dilf finds you.
Over the edge (smut) | Boyfriend!AU, 9,1k So, you’re dating. everything is dandy, the sex is knocking your socks off, but what happens when you get in the First Real Fight?
Morning games (smut) | Non-Idol!AU, 4k In which you want Jungkook back in bed  
Dude (fluff) | Boyfriend!AU, 400 Jungkook hates the new petname you’ve given him.
The philosophy of good luck (smut, fluff) | TattooArtist!AU, 7k “you told me i looked good and that you needed to get a tattoo of my face” is not the explanation you wanted to hear from the tattoo artist that permanently etched the dumbest drunken request of your life onto your skin.
Swipe right (smut, fluff, angst) | Best friends to lovers, 9k After a horrible breakup, you sign back up for tinder and ironically match with your best friend, Jungkook. a date for fun is harmless, right?
Departure (smut, fluff) | Pilot!AU, 6,2k As a flight attendant for Korean Air, you’re scheduled for a thirteen-hour flight to Japan. However, things get intimate between you and your partner and co-pilot, Jeon Jungkook, when he realizes Park Jimin, the famous idol from Korea, broads the plane and blatantly flirts with you.
Strings attached (fluff, smut) | Idol!AU, 4,4k Jungkook is what we can call your sexfriend. No strings attached, just you and him having fun and releasing the huge pressure and stress of being idols. But after spending an entire day together, you realize that maybe he’s not just your sexfriend.    
Snowy hills (fluff, angst) | Surgeon!AU, 3,9k it was supposed to be a normal night, so you could only imagine Jungkook’s surprise when he saw you being wheeled in on a stretcher.
Ruin the friendship (smut, fluff) | Best friends to lovers, 8k Your drunk ass best friend keeps calling you to take care of him and it wouldn’t be so awful, if it weren’t for The Feelings.
Please love me 1, 2, 3 (angst, fluff, smut) | Arranged married, 47,9k As the only unmarried Jeon and Kim children, your families propose a union to symbolize your unbreakable bond that spans generations. But despite developing an affection for Jungkook growing up, he never returned it; he never seemed to like you, actually. You’re okay with the proposal, but surprise surprise, he isn’t.
Let the games begin (smut, fluff) | Gamer!AU, 5,7k Just another fic where oc rides jk in his gaming chair
Baby I don’t feel so good (angst, fluff) | Idol!AU You didn’t mean to miss the award show, but by god you were sick as hell. and you didn’t mean to miss all of his phone calls and texts, but how were you to reply when you were passed out in the bed with a headache and fever?
In your eyes (smut, angst, fluff) | Fratboy!AU, 10,6k Jungkook always sees you like the only girl in the world, and you just see him as a fuckboy. OR Jungkook just wants a chance.
Stranded (smut, fluff, angst) | Enemies to lovers, 13k Jungkook’s offer to help you study for your exam is unwelcome. His entire presence is unwelcome. You don’t want help from the guy who passes all his classes without even trying. It’s annoying — he is annoying. From the way he grins whenever he catches you staring at him, to the way his eyes shine whenever he smiles at you. Oh, and let’s not forget the way his tattoos shift when he stretches or the way his jawline sharpens when he’s focused. Nope, you definitely can’t stand him.
Waking up en Vegas (fluff, smut) | Brothers best friend, 3,1k You know what they say. what happens in vegas, stays in vegas.  but, what happens when you accidentally marry your brother’s best friend? Hidden away (angst) | Hanahaki!AU When it’s too late
A little stand never hurt anyone (smut, angst) | Best friends to lovers, 12,5 Happy anniversary! Oh wait, it’s just a friendship anniversary. You and Jungkook decide to dedicate your anniversary day to each other by visiting the beach and its shops. Luckily for you and Jungkook, you find a secluded spot on the beach that allows you plenty of privacy.
Switch lanes (fluff, smut, angst) | Strangers to lovers, 16,6k In which being friends with benefits with Taehyung lead you to Jungkook.
Broken trust (angst) | Breakup!AU In which you gave him three chances.
Don’t lie to me (angst) | Breakup!AU In which you were a bet.
Photographs (angst, fluff) | Relationship!AU In which you show Jungkook that you love him.
Sex education (fluff, smut) | Brothers best friend, 12k “You want me to… what?” Jungkook chokes on his croissant, and how could he fucking not, with you looking at him with those pleading eyes, asking for something that he knows would get him into jail. Well, maybe not like actual jail. But definitely the Bro Code Jail. The jail where only bros who broke the Bro code went to.
Sex education 2.0 (smut, angst, fluff) | Brothers best friend, 9k “Are you calling me boring?” Jungkook gasps dramatically, looking at you dumbfounded and visibly offended. You roll your eyes, taking a napkin and leaning forward to wipe the crumbs of garlic bread on his lips.“First of all, don’t talk with your mouth full, you pig. Second of all,” you stop to take a sip of your coke, aware of Jungkook’s expectant eyes on you. “A little, yeah.“
It takes two (smut, angst, fluff) | Soulmates!AU, 21,1k Uncertainty always lingered where soulmates’ souls bonded. You didn’t understand, and when he walked down the isle, you understood even less.
Hot boy bummer (smut, angst, fluff) | Fuckboy!AU, 14,6k When Jungkook offers you a proposition of just sex, no strings attached, how can you possibly say no? after all, what are best friends for?
A quarter past us (fluff, angst) | Exes to lovers, 13,8k When you break up with him out of fear of losing your freedom in university, he finds himself showing you why leaving him isn’t the answer.
Concrete king (fluff, smut) | Skaterboy!AU, 16,7k When a cute boy in a tacky hawaiian shirt lands a trick in your honor theres no way you could you ever say no to him.
This kingdom 1, 2  (smut) | Gamer!AU In some cases, hate and love are the same thing. Or, in this specific case, hate and overwhelming, breathless, mind-blowing lust. And it all started because you were better at League of Legends than Jeon Jungkook.
Oops (smut, fluff) | Strangers to lovers, 6k You don’t know who the wonderful voice singing in the shower is, but you need to know
(Un)welcomed Addition (fluff, angst) | Fuckboy!AU, 9k After a drunken one night stand with your neighbor, you have your reasons for wanting to forget it ever happened and never talk to him again. Unfortunately, Jungkook wins the award for the world’s worst neighbor so his 3 am wakeup calls and mail stealing have you banging at his door on an almost weekly basis. You just want to make it to the end of your lease so you can leave all the traces of the fuckboy next door behind…unless your feelings get in the way of course.
The Push (smut, fluff, angst) | College!AU, 11k In which you go from being friends to lovers
Bad habits (smut, angst) | Fuckboy!AU, 5,5k “Tell me something,” he spoke. “Do you want this - us? You said you didn’t know what to call us but I want to give you a name.”
Banana milk (smut) | Strangers to lovers, 6,7k Sent to the grocery store in the middle of the day, you’d never believe who you ran into in the milk aisle.
Pushing you away (angst, fluff) Where he always pushes oc away (who confesses her feelings but was cruelly rejected) and insults her but she always comes back to take care of him when he’s drunk or picks him up from his one night stands and she finally decides to leave him alone
Somnolent (fluff) | Roomates!AU, 3,5k After spending one night in bed with you, Jeongguk finds out he is unable to sleep unless you’re sleeping with him.
Kind like you (smut, angst, fluff) Jungkook dearly wants to be kind like you. He wants to be so sweet, and gentle, and soft like you’re with him all the time; yet all he does is tease and pick on you, it seems.
Come here I’m your paradise (smut, fluff) | Honeymoon!AU, 4,8k In which you’re on your honeymoon.
Canceled (smut) | College!AU, 6,4k Jungkook has a passion for camo pants, science, and debating with strangers on the internet. Usually, he wins arguments, but when you show up in the comment section of one of his his blog posts, shit goes down and he’s left wanting more than a virtual conversation.
All over you 1, 2, 3, 4 (smut, angst, fluff) | College!AU, 6,4k You don’t usually go for the quiet, nerdy type, but Jungkook’s by far the best looking guy in your year. You just can’t help yourself. You have to have him. Small hiccup; he hates you.
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The other women (angst) | Cheating!AU, 1,6k Where you the other women?
One Way Ticket (fluff) | Relationship!AU, 4k Long distance relationships are never an easy thing, and although you and Taehyung had managed to make it work for four years and were used to not seeing each other that much already, he couldn’t help but feel like his birthday was ruined at the news of you being stuck at the airport due to a bad weather flight delay. However, although things didn’t quite go to plan, it only took for you to arrive two hours before the day was over for it to be his happiest of birthdays so far.
Last night (angst) | Friends to ?, 1,2k “I’ve been in love with you since forever Taehyung and I’m pretty sure you knew about it, given how perfectly not-slick I was about it.“
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Step up (or step out) (angst, fluff) | New parents!AU, 3,5k The few first months are always hard on new parents, but Yoongi didn’t expect it to be this bad. He didn’t expect you to consider walking out on him.
27 phone numbers (smut, angst) Yoongi has gone through twenty-seven phone numbers over the last ten years, and you haven’t changed yours since high school.
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Wrecked (angst) | Breakup!AU, 1,3k Months after your break up, just before a performance, Jimin finds out that you’re seeing someone new through Instagram. His group mates pick up the pieces after that.
819 notes · View notes
lavienjin · 6 days ago
bothered (teaser) | knj
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PUBLISHING: September 27th
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synopsis: namjoon has tried so hard to bury his attraction for you, especially upon discovering that his youngest brother feels the same way. but you just had to make it difficult by showing up in a dress much too short and tight for your figure as you innocently beg for him to lend his body for practice.
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pairing: architect!namjoon x reader
wc: 472 (for the teaser)
genre/au/rating: 18+ | brother's best friend, love triangle | smut, angst
warnings: none (for the teaser)
author's note: huge thanks to @knjsnoona for the lovely banner. please give amelia some love <33 reply to this post/send an ask if you'd like to be tagged, unless you're already part of my permanent taglist! got some thoughts? i'd love to hear them!
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“I’m going to ask her out.”
Namjoon spits his coffee back into the mug, hissing at his scalded tongue. Pulling a handkerchief from his suit jacket, he dabs the corners of his lips as he glares at the youngest Kim. “What are you talking about?”
At the mention of your name, Namjoon blinks, hands frozen in place while his brother’s words stab like arrows into his speeding heart.
“Next week, for her birthday, I planned this romantic dinner for the both of us in her favourite restaurant. I rented the entire place out and even hired a string quartet to serenade us while we eat.” Taehyung tugs at the ends of his bangs as he grins sheepishly.
“Wow! Taehyung! That’s, um, great! I’m sure she’ll love it.” There’s a disquiet in Namjoon’s stomach and his cheeks hurt from maintaining the plastic smile; his face frozen in place after hearing the revelation. He wants nothing more than to run, especially since the oxygen around him seems too thin, definitely the reason for his hitched breathing, yet his feet remain firmly glued to the carpet flooring of his office. Clearing his throat in hopes that his voice doesn’t break, Namjoon continues, “Uh… I didn’t know you liked her. I could’ve sworn I had to pull you away from her so she wouldn’t bite your pinky off.”
“Oh my god, that was when we were babies.” With a hearty chuckle, Taehyung rolls his eyes before he looks wistfully at the portrait of the three of you hanging on the wall. “Honestly, I also couldn’t believe that we used to hate each other. It took us moving to a different city for college and not knowing each anyone else for us to become friends… And now, I don’t think I can live without her.”
Neither could I. But Namjoon swallows the words alongside a long sip of coffee.
He’s unable to look at Taehyung’s smiling face – at the hope and excitement that resides in the obsidian irises that’s identical to his own.
A small beeping noise breaks the boys from their thoughts and Taehyung glances at his phone with a smile Namjoon knows all too well.
Because it’s the same smile he wears when he receives a text from you.
“Speak of the angel,” he chuckles as he types quickly into his phone. “I gotta go. Looks like my presence is needed elsewhere.”
Taehyung finishes the last of his coffee and places it on the saucer with a loud clink. As he stands and heads to the oak doors leading out of Namjoon’s office, he turns back and waves. “Wish me luck, won’t you?”
And though Namjoon replies with a strained, but cheerful “yeah” just before Taehyung disappears, what he hopes is for his youngest sibling’s plans to crash and burn into a million tiny flames.
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softyoongiionly · 3 months ago
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It was always him, wasn’t it?
Pairing: Jungkook x Reader
Genre: best friends to lovers au, slight angst, fluff, smut (18+ only please)
Warnings: brief mentions of a past relationship with unhealthy dynamics, an extremely brief allusion to the reader’s grandpa passing away, swearing, marking/ biting, dirty talking, unprotected sex, Jeon Jungkook. 
Word Count: 7.9k
A/N: hi hi!!! This is just a little summer treat for you! I saw blueberry jk again recently and I was thrown into this slightly unorganized plot lol. I hope you enjoy and I love youuuu ^-^ (unedited because I was too excited)
Jungkook is annoyed.
Like, really annoyed.
He’s sitting across from you at your grandma’s breakfast table, doing his absolute best not to roll his eyes as you tell the story of your nightmare weekend.
“…yeah, I guess I just thought things were different between us. I understand he wants to focus on his career but-“
“Right, what was it you said he did again, dear?” Your grandma asks the question with a rolling pin in her hand as she works at the giant pile of dough in front of her.
“He’s in between jobs right now, he says he has a really great idea for a tech startup, but he says the economy isn’t in a good place to pitch something like that.”
Your grandmother glances up to catch Jungkook’s expression, the two of them wordlessly exchanging their distaste.
“I see.” She replies but the sugar in her voice is stale, “Keep going love, I’m sorry for interrupting.”
You’re oblivious to the atmosphere in the room as you smile to yourself. Jungkook takes a deep breath through his nose as he notices that it doesn’t reach your eyes.
He hasn’t been this upset in a long time.
But he does his best to keep calm.
At least for now.
“It’s ok,” You assure her, moving the eggs around your plate, “We were supposed to go dancing, but then he decided that it was best that we stayed inside because of the rain…which I understood but-“ You’re hesitating and Jungkook feels the uncomfortable swirl of anger swimming up his spine, “-it was only drizzling. Plus, the place we were supposed to go was inside.”
“Did you say that to him?”
It is the first time Jungkook has spoken during this conversation, and he is surprised at the amount of venom that seeps into his tone. Being his best friend, you notice right away, your eyes shooting up in his direction.
“Y-yeah. I mean- I pointed out that we would be inside the whole time and he just sort of brushed it off. Later on, you know when we started arguing- he ended up telling me that he didn’t like the dress I brought with me.”
Jungkook’s strong jaw clenches and unclenches, “The blue one?”
You nod, perplexed by the intensity in his eyes. Your grandma’s sugary voice breaks the tension as she comes around to ensure that she heard you correctly.
“You’re kidding!” She places her hand on her heart, “That dress was made for you. How could he possibly-“ Her eyes seem to light up in realization, “He didn’t go dancing with you because he didn’t like your dress?”
You feel quite embarrassed as she takes your hand, and although you can feel the familiar sting of sadness in your eyes, you reign in your tears.
There is no reason to worry them further, you think.
“I guess so.”
“He’s an idiot.” Jungkook says plainly, his voice nearly void of any emotion.
“I concur.” Your grandma says, smoothing her thumb over the back of your knuckles, “Honey, please tell me you aren’t seeing this man again.” She hesitates and worries momentarily about decorum before deciding to toss it to the curb, “He sounds like an asshole.”
Strong language only leaves your grandmother’s lips on rare occasions and you can’t help but chuckle every time it happens.
She seems to relax at the sound of your laughter, but Jungkook’s posture remains the same as he awaits your response.
“I don’t know. He told me to call him when I-“ Your fingers come up to make air-quotes, “ ‘adjust my expectations.’”
“The hell’s that supposed to mean?”
Jungkook’s voice is deeper than normal, his arms crossing over his chest as he looks at you in disgust.
It’s slightly intimidating as you aren’t used to seeing him like this, but you persist anyway, wanting to see the end of this conversation.
“When he started arguing, I told him I would expect the man I’m with to want to show me off no matter what. You know…” You can hear your voice getting smaller, “…to want to dance with me regardless of what my dress looks like.”
Jungkook feels his heart break a little as he sees the crushed look on your face, but his frustration is still eclipsing all of his other emotions.
“And he told you to lower your expectations?” Jungkook clarifies.
“That’s horseshit.” Your grandmother scoffs, “When your grandfather was around, may he rest in peace, he took me dancing every chance he had.”
Her language makes you giggle softly to yourself, but you avert your eyes again, feeling rather ashamed that you spent so much time with someone who clearly didn’t appreciate you.
“I’m not sure if I can find the kind of love you and grandpa had…” You murmur, fingertips picking at the frayed ends of the tablecloth, “Chase told me that love wasn’t really like that. I tried to tell him that I had…” You hesitate, not looking across the table, “…felt it before but he wasn’t really interested in my perspective…”
As you’re shaking your head, Jungkook begins shaking his too. He adjusts his posture before helplessly trying to reign in his wayward tongue once again, “Where is he staying at again?”
“Jungkook…” Your grandma chides fondly, sensing his frustration growing by the second, “…would you mind going out to the garden? I don’t think I picked enough blueberries for a third pie, and I promised the Kims’ one by tomorrow morning.”
When you meet his gaze once again, his tongue is pressed somewhat aggressively into his cheek and he seems to hesitate at your grandma’s request. He doesn’t want to leave your side but he doesn’t know how much more of this conversation he can take.
He merely nods, setting his fork down on the table and wiping his hands on the cloth napkin before jerking his chin at you, “You wanna come? It’s supposed to storm in a bit.” When he sees your eyes meet his own, he can’t help but feel his heart skip a bit in his chest. He’s never done well with you looking directly at him like this, but the hurt wading around in them makes it much worse. He offers you his signature smirk, trying to lighten your mood, “Now I know you’re sad and all, but there’s no way my Y/N would pass up an opportunity to watch a storm roll in.”
The combination of his smirk and the phrase ‘my Y/N’ sends your heart into a frenzy that you’d really love to ignore. But when he reaches his tattooed fingers out towards you, you don’t really have much of a choice.
“Go on, dear. It will be good to get some fresh air.” She looks pointedly at Jungkook, “Make sure you two are in before the lightening…”
Jungkook nods, “Yes ma’am.” His smirk fades quickly when he feels your hand in his own, his fingers almost forgetting how to work.
With a kiss to your grandma’s cheek, you push away from your place at the table and begin to trail behind Jungkook as he leads you outside. Holding hands with your childhood best friend is nothing new. The two of you would often run haphazardly through the very same yard that you’re heading out to, spending hours lost in the same daydream. Foolishly, the two of you believed that life would be so much like playing pretend. However, you had come to realize that all those years running through the fields on your grandmother’s farm, chasing after bad guys, ruling over imaginary kingdoms, and pretending to harness the lightening in the skies above you, couldn’t have prepared you for the world out there.
When you texted Jungkook to meet you here, he knew something had gone wrong. He had been in the middle of hanging out with some of his other friends he met in college, but he quickly excused himself and rushed over here.
As usual, you tried to pretend like it wasn’t a big deal. You tried to play it off like you just wanted to see him, like your grandmother just needed help baking her famous blueberry pies, like you only wanted to catch up…
But he knew it had been about him.
Through the shiver brought on by the cold evening air, you murmur, “Are you mad at me?”
Jungkook’s eyes are narrowed, his royal blue hair beginning to move along with the wind as he tries to scout the location of your grandmother’s blueberry patch.
She moves it around every year.
“Why would I be mad at you?”
He doesn’t look at you as he begins leading the two of you towards the garden off to the left.
“I don’t know…” You feel uneasy now, “You just seem upset about something.”
Jungkook knows that he won’t be able to hide his feelings from you for very long, but he does his best to deflect the attention back on you.
“I’m just worried about you.” He assures you, still refusing to spar a glance towards you, “I’ve been worried about you…”
You sigh, “I’m ok…I just-“ Shrugging, you squeeze his hand in attempt to reassure him, “-got burned, that’s all.”
He pauses his movements, the clouds beginning to rumble above you as he lets go of your hand. He turns towards you, a slightly wounded expression on his face, “You don’t look burned, Y/N. You look broken.”
Your hand remains up in the air for a moment before you quickly bring it back to your side, “Gee thanks. You really know how to make a girl feel special…”
Jungkook shoots a cold glance your way as he opens the gate to the garden, “You know that isn’t what I mean. I just don’t understand why you didn’t tell any of us what was going on. You two were together for a year, Y/N. Every one of us just thought he swept you off your feet…” A bit of pain flashes through his eyes, “…me included.”
“I just didn’t want you to worry about me.” You explain, the steady grip of uneasiness slowly intertwining through your sense, “I felt silly for falling for giving into the life that he lived so quickly. When things started to go sideways, I didn’t know how to ask for help, I didn’t want to be a burden on anyone…it really wasn’t that bad honestly. We just didn’t click-“
“Why are you lying to me?” His tone begins to match his wounded expression, as he stops near the beginning of the blueberries. The storm clouds are rolling in from the background, almost as if they could feel the rising tension in the air.
“I’m- I’m not. I told you everything that happened-“
“Y/N,” Jungkook interrupts you, shaking his head, his eyes holding something you can’t quite decipher, “we don’t have to talk about this anymore. I don’t want to disrespect your boundaries, or invade your privacy but…” He points a tattooed finger in your direction, “…don’t lie to me, not after all these years…”
For whatever reason, you are compelled to reach out for his finger. Wrapping your own digits around his, you lower it until it’s pointed towards the ground. Holding it for a moment, the two of you regard one another in complete silence. His chest rises a bit quicker than normal as he attempts to calm down but for the most part you only notice the pain his pretty eyes.
And the moles upon his pretty face…
All you do is nod and give his finger a light squeeze before releasing it.
And Jungkook hates it when you do, wishing for you to follow through for once, wishing for you to find your way back through his fingers…
“So, we drop it then?” He checks, his voice much softer now.
When you nod a second time, he offers an unfamiliar smile in your direction. It pains you to know that he is holding back the things he wants to say, but you understand why he does it.
This is just the way things are now.
“We better get started.” He notes before a small smirk finds its way onto his mouth, “Your grandma is going to bake me into those pies if I keep you outside during the storm.”
His joke finally gets you to crack a smile, “For a woman that’s lived in this town her whole life, she still hasn’t managed to figure out how thunderstorms work.”
“What do you mean she doesn’t know how thunderstorms work? Y/N? Have you already forgotten Uncle Earl? Do you want HIM to tell you how thunderstorms work???” Jungkook does his best at imitating your grandma’s voice causing the two of you to erupt in the first bout of genuine laughter of the evening.
Your Great Uncle Earl was hit by lightening when your grandma and him were growing up. According to him, he had to go to the hospital for a bit and now has the coolest scar known to man. According to your grandma however, he nearly died (twice) and can no longer stand within 10 feet of an electrical appliance.
Neither of which are true, but she was four years old when it happened.
Kids say the darnest things.
“She’s ridiculous…” You chuckle to yourself as you bend down to inspect the bushels of blueberries. The sun has treated them well this year but now that the stormy season was beginning to roll in full force, your grandmother would likely begin planting something else in their place. “It’s going to be a bad one tonight, you’re not driving home are you?”
He shakes his head as he gathers a few berries in his palm before tossing them into the burlap pouch he brought along with him, “No. My mom would kill me if I tried to drive in this weather even though-“
“You totally could…” You finish his sentence for him, a smirk on your lips, “You’re forgetting about the time you and I tried to drive to hills to watch the flood and we got stuck on Route 14…and you cried…a lot.”
Jungkook is throwing a blueberry at your face by the end of your sentence, causing you to laugh all over again, “And you cried with me! We were holding each other on the side of the road until the fire department showed up…”
What Jungkook won’t talk about however is how desperately he wanted to kiss you in that old pickup truck. The two of you were much younger then but he can still vividly remember the way you huddled up against him, the way your fingers gripped the material of his hoodie, the way your lips were dangerously close to his own…
You are laughing despite the fact that he was calling you out, your eyes lighting up fondly at the memory of the firemen literally telling you to just drive slowly back down the hill behind them. It wasn’t nearly as dangerous as you had made it out to be, but the thunder roaring in the distance whilst you and Jungkook huddled close together on the side of the road is still fresh in your mind.  
“I was only crying because you started crying first.” You counter, throwing the blueberry back at him. But as you do, Jungkook opens his mouth and catches it right on the center of his tongue, a quirk on his lips forming as he does.
“Jungkook! That landed on the ground! You’re so gross…” You laugh, eyes widening in disbelief.
His smirk forms fully as he shrugs, chewing away at the soiled berry, “It’s just extra nutrients from the Earth Y/N, relax.”
Jungkook snickers just as he did when the two of you were younger when you turn your nose up in disgust.
“It’s just extra nutrients from the Earth Y/N, relax.” You mimic him whilst deepening your voice. He snickers again, his eyes lingering on you even as you turn your attention back towards the berries.
God, he really does think you are the prettiest woman he has ever seen.
Silence settles over you once more as you both focus on the task at hand. The clouds looming in the distance are growing darker with the onslaught of precipitation and stirring uneasily beneath the weight of the pressure building up inside of them. This was the first storm of the season and according to the weather reports, it’s supposed to be a doozy.
Normally, silence between you and Jungkook is comfortable. After knowing each other for so long, you could basically do anything together and feel content. You never needed to fill the air with small talk or unnecessary anecdotes; being with Jungkook felt very much like breathing.
However, today was different. Today the tension stuck to every surface of your skin and made you very aware that not only were you keeping something from Jungkook, but that he knew about it.
You take a deep breath in a futile attempt to quell your anxiety and Jungkook’s eyes are immediately on you. They seem to slice through your carefully crafted exterior, which is something he perfected long ago.
But he doesn’t say anything, he knows he doesn’t need to.
He just waits until-
“He told me not to see you anymore.” You admit, your eyes fixated firmly on the garden floor, your heartbeat rising to a dangerous level.
Jungkook’s eyes widen. He knew there was more to your breakup with Chase, but he never anticipated that it had anything to do with him.
“He said that-“ You swallow the fear rising in your throat, “-I had a choice; I could either call and tell you that I never wanted to see you again or…”
There is a dangerous amount of moisture collecting in the sky that mirrors what is occurring in your very own pupils. You don’t want to cry but you don’t know if you have a choice.
Everything was riding on this moment and your introduction to this topic was already so messy.
“…Or?” Jungkook presses gently, ignoring the fury he felt for this man that was supposed to be taking care of you.
You don’t dare to move your eyes from the soil on the floor as you nearly choke out the rest of your sentence.
“Or I had to call and tell you that I wasn’t in love with you…”
Jungkook’s own heart ceases to beat for the time being, the rest of his body trying its best to process what you’ve just said to him. But as intelligent as Jungkook is, he doesn’t always understand subtlety.
With a humorless laugh, your attention is finally brought up towards him, your expression rife with confusion.
“Is that why you brought me here then? To tell me this in person?” He sets the basket down beside you, wiping his hands on the overalls adorning his body, “You didn’t think this was something you could have texted me?”
You look confused now, “Why would I text you something like this?”
Every inch of his body is covered in defensiveness now, the normally smooth features that adorn his face are hardened beneath his assumptions as he slowly places distance between the two of you.
“Did you really think this is the place I’d want to find out? I mean-“ He barks a laugh once more, his arms crossing over his chest, “-I would think you’d have a little more common sense than that.” You’re thoroughly wounded now, your chest tightening with the force of his attitude, whilst your mind is swimming with confusion.
“I don’t know why you’re being so mean about this.” You mumble, your eyes flickering between the dark clouds and the storm in front of you, “I didn’t think you’d react like this…”
“Yeah well…” He scoffs, looking rather disgusted, “…I guess you don’t know me that well, do you?”
His words cut through your heart like one of those 1,000 degree knives that were going viral on the internet a few years ago, and you literally feel a lump in your throat forming as he begins to walk away.
Whichever force is controlling the weather seems to have a sense of humor because just as the peak of your heartbreak begins, it starts to rain.
“Jungkook!” You call after him, trying to move quickly despite the numbness in your limbs, “Is this really how you feel? After all of this time?”
He whips around towards you, his eyes hard with his defenses, “Is this really how you feel? For god’s sake Y/N, I knew you were a little clueless, but I didn’t realize how bad it was.”
The storm above your heads is intensifying slowly as the rain stains the expressions on your faces.
“What are you even talking about???” You are growing irritated with the way he is speaking too but more so than anything, you are thoroughly dumbfounded at his reaction.
Jungkook’s cerulean hair is getting shaggier with the onslaught of rain leaving the clouds, but he doesn’t have the patience to care, he is too upset to care about anything at the moment.
“Did you really think this would be easy for me? You thought that you’d just call me out to this spot, our spot, and you’d let me down easy? Is that it?” His voice breaks up a bit at the end as he shakes his head. You can tell that he’s about to cry by the way he keeps pursing his lips, and it’s all clicking for you now.
“Jungkook,” You croak, shaking your own head, “I didn’t ask you to come here to let you down easy. I asked you to come here because I couldn’t agree to either of the things, he asked of me.”
He’s already turning away from you when your words bring his movements to a halt. Slowly and in the middle of the downpour, his innocent eyes find yours.
“What are you saying?”
You swallow your own urge to cry, taking a cautious step towards him, “I’m saying that I couldn’t call you to tell you I wasn’t in love with you…”
He sniffles, his gaze intensifying as he returns your step, “Why?”
A deep breath is interrupted by roaring thunder behind you, reminding the both of you that this wasn’t really a good time to be doing this.
But you didn’t care.
The whole world could be ending right now, and you would still prioritize this moment.
“Because I would be lying…”
Mother Nature makes herself known once again but the only thing you can focus on is Jungkook rushing towards you. He is soaked as he clashes into you, his arms winding around your waist before pulling you against him. And without a single word, he is pressing his lips onto yours.
He kisses you like he’s done it a million times before. His mouth tucking into yours and eagerly claiming every single bit of his interior. You can feel his hands tightening on the back of your dress, and you respond in kind by smoothing your hands up the soaked material clinging to his back.
Your nose rubs the bridge of his, your desire for him rising way too quickly to grasp. Your fingers leave his back and slide up towards the nape of his neck before smooth over the soaked blueberry strands. Avoiding the ponytail in his hair, you allow them to find is hairline and push it hair back against his head. He groans into your lips at the sensation, the sound going straight between your legs.
“I’m a fucking idiot…” He grunts into your mouth, his hands dangerously close to your ass.
His comment makes you giggle as your eyes flutter open, your hand coming up to cup his cheek, “You and me both…”
Jungkook pecks your lips once more, blinking away the raindrops that find their way into his eyes. He pulls back to get a good look at the face he has loved for so long before a brilliant smile breaks out onto his mouth, “Wait but-“ He lets out a bout of boyish laughter, placing his hand on your opposite cheek, “-you’re serious? You love me?”
You giggle along with him, completely ignoring the very angry storm shouting above your head, “So much it’s cringe-worthy…”
Jungkook chuckles again, resting his forehead against yours, “Me too, for so long.”
“For so long…” You agree, almost exasperated at the amount of relief you feel, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, I was just so worried you weren’t going to feel the same, and I didn’t want to lose you. But after I realized how awful Chase was to me, I kind of figured out that I only dated him to keep my mind off of you.”
Jungkook smirks at you, thumbing over the apple of your cheek, “How did that work out for you?”
You grumble before sticking your tongue out at him, “Terribly, thank you for asking!”
You aren’t yelling exactly, but the clouds have gotten dangerously close, and you have no choice but to speak over the sound of the storm now.
“If you’re going to stick your tongue out at me, you could at least do me a favor and put it in my mouth…” His smirk only broadens, a flash of wickedness in his eyes. To add insult to injury, he parts his lips for you with a raise of his brows. “We have a lot of lost time to make up for.”
He looks like his typical arrogant self but there is something completely new in the words he spoke to you. It gave you whiplash how he seemed to jump from one emotion to the next so quickly, but you can’t say you blame him.
This has been a long time coming…
You’re leaning in towards his awaiting mouth when a voice loud enough to rival the summer storm itself interrupts you.
“Jeon Jungkook! What in the hell do you think you’re doing?! Did I not say to have my granddaughter in before this storm started!?”
Jungkook flinches at the sound of her voice, despite the rather childish giggle coming from his lips.
“Technically, you told me to have her inside before the lightening, Miss Y/L/N!” He retorts and she simply crosses her arms over her chest, her night gown blowing hastily in the wind.
“Am I detecting backtalk Mr. Jeon?! Don’t you make me call your mother; I still have her number on speed dial!”
The two of you giggle like a couple of brats, leaning into one another for a moment before he takes your hand and leads you towards the front door.
Your grandma’s eyes widen once again as she gestures wildly towards the blueberry patch, “Now I know the two of you did not forget the one thing I sent you out here- where the hell are my blueberries?!”
After sort of explaining to your grandmother what happened, she sent the two of you off to separate bathrooms to wash up saying “I can forgive a distraction, I cannot forgive you two dripping all over my brand new carpet…”
Whilst your grandma had been quite excited that you had finally worked things out with Jungkook, she made it very clear that,
“The two of you better be in separate beds when I wake up tomorrow morning. There will be no hanky panky under my roof…”
But the thunder is so loud…
It shakes the flimsy structure of your grandmother’s farmhouse and leaves you to stir uncomfortably in your old bed. Despite living where you do, you’ve never been able to acclimate to storms like these. They have always freaked you out and made you feel unsafe.
Huddled under two of your grandmother’s quilts, you curse yourself for deciding to do things this way. If you had just invited Jungkook back to your apartment, you could be cuddled up to him right now…
Amongst other things…
To be fair, you hadn’t necessarily planned to tell him EVERYTHING today but you just couldn’t help yourself.
You had been waiting so long to finally summon the courage to breach that barrier.
And now that you have, all you want to do is be with him.
Growing up in your grandmother’s house, you have perfected the art of sneaking around the property. There were many nights that you would sneak out to her living room to catch whatever one of your favorite shows was still on. There were many nights that she caught you too, but she never scolded you.
She only ever walked you backed to bed with the reassurance that you needed your rest.
You don’t think she would be as understanding if she caught you this time…
At least you had the advantage of being an adult, and do not have to worry about her taking away your Gameboy as punishment.
The creaking of the floorboards is an unwelcome sound, but the storm is much louder and drowns out anything too incriminating. Jungkook was staying at the guest room all the way at the end of the hall so there is significant distance between his room and your grandma’s room.
Not that this should matter or anything…
When you get to his door, you are regretting not packing something warmer to wear tonight. You were in nothing but your old university sweatshirt and some shorts, seemingly forgetting that summer was most definitely over.
Lingering in front of his door, you are met with a dilemma: to knock or not to knock.
Your fingers are curled into a fist and poised to rap gently against the old pine, but something tells you to just slowly creak the door open instead.
The only light that illuminates the scene before you is the sickly shade of blue coming in from the window pane and Jungkook’s cell phone. He’s holding it in one hand which rests on his bare chest, a small grin lit up by the glow of his screen.
“Took you long enough…”
He looks away from his phone now to catch a glimpse of you but the light it emits allows you to see that is wearing nothing but a pair of gray sweat pants. Vaguely, you make out how much his tattoo sleeve has been developed since you last saw him, and the sight paired with his recently acquired muscles makes your mouth water.
“Hey, you could have come to my room too…or texted me…” You pout, making sure you keep your voice at a reasonable volume.
Jungkook turns his screen towards you to show that he was, in fact, in the middle of texting you.
“I was trying to wait until she fell asleep…” He counters, clicking the side button on his phone. When the screen goes dark, you try not to scowl as the visibility of his beautiful face lessens.
“Well-“ The loud crack of thunder interrupts you, your whole body jolting violently at the sound.
This causes Jungkook to double over in a quiet fit of laughter, his nose scrunching up with amusement.
“It’s not funny…” You quietly whine which only makes him laugh harder. But in the midst of his fit, he reaches out for you, wiggling his fingers.
“C’mere, scaredy cat-“ He is entirely lit up with amusement when you pretend to refuse his request, your eyes narrowing in distaste.
“No, you’re mean…” You grumble despite the fact that you are literally dying to get in bed with him, “I’ll be fi-INE!”
You clamp your hand over your mouth as another round of thunder shakes the house, your eyes wide with fear.
Jungkook has his hand over his mouth too, but its to stop the laughter from escaping his lips. He flops back onto the pillows while you rush over to the bed and climb over him to secure a spot against the wall.
Like a couple of dorks, you two thrash until Jungkook is able to pull the quilt up over you. In theory, this does nothing to shield you from your grandma’s wrath, should she come in here to investigate but it makes you feel safer.
Jungkook is still snickering quietly as you both snuggle up to one another.
“You were saying?” He quips, his skin emitting the woodsy scent of his body wash. You try not to drink it in too much, it’s way too early to be drunk off of him.
“I was saying that you have no sympathy for your best friend and her phobia of loud noises and that I hate you.”
He pretends to be wounded, “Oooh ouch, fair enough. Although you hating me does kind of fuck with my plans for the evening…”
You raise your brows at him, “What plans were those?”
He just grins, one of his hands finding its way to the curve of your waist. Your skin comes alive beneath his touch as you curse the thick material of your hoodie for being in the way.
“Well, if you hate me, it doesn’t really matter now does it?”
With each word, he leans in closer and closer to you, the mint of his toothpaste lingering in the air between your lips.
You’re aptly prepared with a witty comeback but the thunder shakes the walls again, causing you to shrink against his sturdy chest. His laughter causes his body to quake beneath you, but he uses his big strong arms to envelop you anyway.
“Don’t laugh at meeee…” You gripe into his neck, resisting the urge to take a bite out of him, “…you know how much I hate it.”
Jungkook’s smile broadens as he is finally able to hold you like he’s been wanting to, his heart going wobbly in his chest as he feels how close your lips are to his neck.
“Okay, Okay…” He hushes you playfully, kissing the top of your head, “I’m sorry. You’re ok, yeah? Nothing bad is going to happen.”
He softens his tone a bit, one of his hands cautiously moving up and down your back. The more he touches you, the more you are distracted from the chaos brewing just outside your window.
“I really should have moved out of this town by now…” You whisper jokingly, ensuring that your lips brush against his skin as you.
Jungkook takes a deep breath through his nose, his hand stalling a bit at the feeling before he pushes through his desire.
“You’re not allowed to move anywhere.” He says quite plainly, hugging you closer, “Especially not now…”
You hum lightly as he starts massaging the space between your shoulder blades, “Why is that?”
Jungkook bites his lip as he feels your mouth move again, slightly annoyed with himself that he is this turned on already, “Because you have to do the whole small-town thing now. You know- marry your childhood sweetheart, settle down, have a bunch of babies…the ladies at the library will finally stop judging you.”
Giggling quietly, you crane your neck a bit so you can get a glimpse of his face, “Is that what you want?”
He bites his lip, a rather sly but soft look in his eyes, “I want you-“ He replies, playfully coaxing your lips back towards his neck, “-that’s all I’ve figured out so far.”
You smirk when he does, and since he is decidedly telling you where he wants your mouth, you ensure to press your lips against the warmth of his throat. Before you respond, you place a few kisses up the column of it, grinning to yourself as his hands seem to tighten in the center of your back.
“You want me?” You tease, dragging your lips over his skin again, trying not to jump his bones when he shudders beneath you.
“I just said I did, didn’t I?” He is snarky now because it’s the last defense he has before he gives himself over to his lust for you.
“What is it that you want from me?”
The whisper leaving your mouth provides him with another reason to shudder, your gentle response dancing over his skin.
His mouth twitches under the weight of an incoming grin, still in disbelief that he finally gets to be with you this way.
“Honestly?” He murmurs as his fingers become braver. They slide under the bottom of your hoodie, pressing into the skin just above your ass. “I want you to mark my neck up…”
His candid request makes the two of you laugh quietly just beneath the sound of the storm. It was so strange how the two of you seemed to slip into these roles so quickly, all of the first hook-up jitters were cancelled out by the ease you felt around one another.
With another kiss to his throat you whisper, “How do you plan on facing my grandma at breakfast with a hickie on your neck?”
His laughter is slow and warm now, his hands sliding over the swell of your ass, “I have a turtleneck…”
The sound of him chuckling somewhat darkly in your ear fuels something buried deep inside of you; he sounds so sexy and so mischievous at the same time, you could get used to him talking to you like this.
“What if I…” You pause to drag your lips down the side of his neck before pausing at spot just below his collarbone, “…did it here instead?”
Jungkook pouts in the dark, coaxing your lips back up to the juncture between his neck and the start of his shoulder, “It feels better up here…please? I promise I won’t let her see.”
His bout of pleading with you goes right between your legs, and you’re now dealing with the reality that it’s nearly impossible to refuse him when he sounds like this.
“Here?” You whisper, brushing your lips over the spot and playfully dragging your teeth over his skin.
“Mhm…” He hums, leaning his head back for you.
Taking his skin into your mouth, you suck at the sensitive spot he ushered you to until you feel his hands tighten on your body. The sound of his breath catching in your ear prompts you to immediately fulfill his next request, 
“Harder...” He whispers, as his neck elongates slightly, inviting you to continue.  
You’re practically on top of him now, one of your legs wrapping around his waist while you lean into the lovebite even more.  
“Fuck.” Jungkook grunts when you press against the tent forming in his sweatpants, his hands moving from your ass to your hips, “Come up here, get on me.” 
You’re no longer concerned about your grandma waking in on you as you straddle the increasingly needy man beneath you.  
The lightening strike outside of the window lights up the room momentarily, allowing you to see the angry purple mark you left behind. Jungkook’s face is lit up too, and all you can see is the darkness in his eyes and the satisfied grin on his mouth.  
“Hi.” He mumbles against your lips, “You’ve got quite the mouth on you, you know that? My head is already spinning...” 
His praise makes your heart sing as you press a kiss to his lips, a giggle escaping your mouth as the two of you bump noses.  
You indulge eachother for a moment before Jungkook is speaking again, his arousal acting like a truth serum. 
“I’m so hard right now, and we’ve barely done anything.” He murmurs, kissing your bottom lip. 
Resting your elbows on either side of his side, you shiver when he presses his hips against yours. 
“I didn’t realize my lips could have such an effect on you...” You tease, nuzzling his nose and meeting his hips half way.  
The two of you hold back the noises you want to make as the pleasure throbs between your legs. 
“It’s not just your lips...” He argues, eyes widening when you grind against him, “Fuck- you can’t do that to me...” His fingertips press into your hips desperately, his sanity slowly slipping away from him. 
“I’m sorry- “ You bite your lip, nudging his nose again, “I’ve just never felt like this before, I just want to...” 
Jungkook’s hips are grinding up again, his lips cutting you off mid-sentence, “Like what? Horny?” 
His voice is so deep now that it seems to vibrate between the two of you, and with his blue hair splaying out on the pillowcase and his swollen mouth curved up into a grin, you really have no choice but to kiss him again.  
You can feel him smile into it, his hands curving over your ass and flexing his hips upwards again. 
“More than that.” You whisper shakily, finally reconciling with how wet you are now, the material of your shorts sticking to your center, “It’s so much more...” 
Your response softens him all over again, his fingers now sliding beneath hem of your shorts and brushing against the skin below your ass. 
“What do you want to do hm? Do you want to do this?” He nearly coos, kissing your top lip. 
“I do but-” You hesitate, glancing towards the door once more, “I don’t want her to hear us...I thought telling you here would be cute, but now I wish I would have just invited you to my apartment.” 
Jungkook chuckles, the sound slightly unstable under the weight of his arousal, “The hopeless romantic in me is so happy you told me here but-” He lets out a sigh along with another breathless laugh, “-I’m really struggling right now...” 
His honesty makes you whisper a laugh into his lips before kissing him for the millionth time, “Jungkook-” You whine, “I’m sorry...this was the messiest thing I have ever done, and I wanted it to be like this perfect, dramatic thing but it ended up being really impractical and-” 
He cuts you off with another kiss, snickering as he does and using his strength to sit up with you, before laying you back towards the foot of the bed. Still kissing you, he slots himself between your legs while his tongue finds solace against yours. 
“Do I look disappointed to you?” He croons before pushing his length against your aching cunt, “Do I feel disappointed to you? Hm?” 
You shake your head, still kissing at his lips as your nails trail over the skin of his back, “N-No, you don’t, I’m just-” 
“You’re just what?” He nearly taunts, raising his brows as he pulls back a bit, his hands traveling to the bottom of your hoodie, “Mine? Why would I be disappointed with that?” 
He slides the material up your body, groaning as he takes in the sight of your breasts, “Jesus fucking christ-” He leans down, licking a stripe between them before mouthing towards your nipple, “-you’re unreal.” 
“Jungkook...” You whisper now, your back arching, your body yearning for his mouth on you. 
His eyes flutter shut as he takes your nipple in his mouth, his tattooed hand coming up to grip your other breast, squeezing the flesh gently. 
“I want you so bad.” You breathe. 
“Yeah?” He practically purrs, opening his eyes and allowing the lightening to illuminate you now, “Where do you want me, sweetheart?” 
Jungkook licks over your nipple once more before kissing his way to the other one, his breath quickening every so slightly as he anticipates your response. 
He smirks at this, taking a bite of the curvature of your breast before chuckling, “Everywhere huh? Is that what my girl wants?” 
You’re nodding and before you know it you’re threading your fingers in his hair and coaxing his lips back to you, “Please-” Your breathless and slightly inebriated with all of the arousal present in your head but you know one thing for sure, “I want you so bad.” 
Jungkook’s cockiness dissipates at the sound of your pleading, “You’re going to kill me-” He breathes, pecking your lips, “-you want me inside of you?” 
You’re nodding halfway through the end of his sentence, your legs spreading wider, inviting him in. 
“Yes please.” You basically whine, a bout of laughter catching onto the end of it. You’re a little amazed at how desperate you are as you never felt this way with your ex. But Jungkook is the love of your life, and he has been for so long. The need for him to fill you up supersedes all logical thinking. 
He’s laughing quietly too but he looks nervous now, his shaky gaze glancing down where the two of you would be connected, “You have no idea how badly I want this, how long I’ve thought about this moment...” 
You cup his cheek, urging his gaze back to your own, “I do though-” You kiss him again, “-I really do.” 
He sighs shakily, “I don’t want her to catch us, if you feel like it’s too much, you gotta tell me ok? I’ll slow down...” 
“I will, I promise I’ll be quiet...” 
Jungkook groans and shakes his head, “That is the last thing I want to hear...” He frowns before the two of you giggle. He kisses the tip of your nose as he uses his free hand to push the band of his sweats of his aching cock. Your mouth waters as it springs free, cursing your current location from preventing you from indulging in him the way you want to. 
Seconds later, he is on his knees with his dick in his hand, whilst his other slowly pushes your shorts to the side. His nostrils flare as he zeros in on your pussy, his eyes fixating on the sight, “Fuck me...” 
You bite your lip, loving the reactions you illicit from him; you don’t think you have ever felt so sexy in your entire life. 
He looks up at you once again, all sorts of emotions swimming in his gaze, “Are you ready baby?” 
The nod is all he needs to push inside of you and before you know it, the two of you are grinding somewhat helplessly towards your end.  
Chest to chest, you fuck one another, the pleasure completely wrecking any chance you had at lasting very long.  
Throughout it all, there is a cacophony of lust-filled sentiments: 
“Fuck, Y/N...”  
“God I was made for this pussy wasn’t I? I fit so good, don’t I baby?” 
“You’re so fucking sweet, squeezing me so good...” 
“Let me take care of you, I’ll make you feel good whenever you want, make you cum whenever you want...” 
It’s so much and not enough all at once. Two sweaty bodies, so overcome with the feelings they have for one another, feeling the euphoria of finally becoming one... 
The way it was always meant to be. 
“I love you, Jungkook...” 
The storm has nothing on the weather in this room.  
No amount of thunder and lightening could ever surpass the energy between you. 
“I love you, Y/N” 
It was always him, wasn’t it? 
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kinktae · 5 months ago
novocaine || pt. 3 (M)
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Going home was hard – painful even. But falling back in love with Jimin, the boy you left behind? Downright gut-wrenching.
pairing: punk!jimin x reader
word count: 7.3k
genre: 1990s au, exes au, angst, smut
warnings: 90s slang, ANGST, mentions of death, SMUT, oral (m), lots of emotions friends
01 | 02 | 03
Your foot tapped against the brick of Guyi's porch nervously, trying to fight back the tiny voice in the back of your head that was telling you to run before it was too late.
The voice vanished as the front door swung open, a surprised looking Guyi greeting you.
"Hey, Y/N!" She smiled, immediately putting you at ease.
She was surprised. You were too. You hadn't spoken properly with your friend in years, yet here you were, showing up at her door in hopes of getting this Jimin situation off your chest and, hopefully, gain some perspective from the most insightful person you knew.
"Hi– Oh, is this a bad time?" You paused, eyes darting past Guyi's shoulder to where a pair of eyes were peering at you from inside the house, a young girl you didn't recognize curled up on the couch.
"Oh, no. Just babysitting Nary." Your old friend explained.
The girl who you assumed was Nary stared at you curiously, unsure what to make of you barging in on her babysitting time.
"Crap, sorry, I should've called beforehand." You tucked your hands into the safety of your denim jacket. "I was gonna cash in on that girls' night offer."
"Oh yeah! Come on in!" Guyi immediately moved to let you in.
"Are you sure? You're babysitting..."
"Nary got her Gameboy back. She won't bother us, trust." She assured as you slipped past her.
You stood awkwardly inside, waiting for Guyi to finish locking up the house before venturing any further into the home. You could see the kitchen from your position– your cheeks warmed at the memory of you and Yoongi getting acquainted there before you shoved him into the spare bedroom and your ex-boyfriend walked in.
"Nary, say hi to Y/N." Guyi pulled you from memory.
"Hi." You smiled meekly, waving at the young girl.
She was about eight years old, hair cut above her shoulders, bangs thick in the unfortunate way children usually wore them.
Nary hummed, gesturing towards the game console in her hand. "Do you know how to play Kirby's Dreamland?"
"Oh, uh... no."
She turned her head away disinterestedly, your answer seemingly solidifying her decision that you did not require her attention.
"Told ya she wouldn't bug us." Guyi smirked walking over to the kitchen. You followed her silently, thanking her as she popped you open a can of cherry Coca-Cola.
"So what's up with you and Jimin?" She questioned, opening up a can for herself.
Your face warmed as the fizzing sound of her open drink filled the kitchen.
"Hm? What— I mean, nothing. Why do you ask?"
Of course, you had come to talk about Jimin. She was spot on. Actually admitting it, however, was proving to be more challenging than you had initially anticipated.
"Y/N." Guyi deadpanned.
"You, Jimin, Gwen, and Hoseok went into Old Man Carswell's. Four went in. Two came out. I can do the math." She said.
"Ah. Well." You played it coy.
"We all figured it would happen." She shrugged, unfazed by your embarrassment, despite the way her words only made your shame crawl further up your face.
Tapping on the glass of your drink, you ran your fingertip along with the condensation.
"Did everyone notice?" You muttered.
"Pretty much."
"Ugh, that so embarrassing." You grumbled, bringing your cherry coke up to your lips.
Guyi shrugged once more.
"Not really. You and Jimin make sense. Even after all this time. It would be weirder if you guys didn't get back together."
"Right. About that," you set your drink back down, "we aren't actually 'back together,' we kind of just... got together..."
"You guys had sex." She clarified. 
Nodding, you contemplated your following words.
"Yeah... and it went bad."
Guyi looked taken aback, "Wait, the sex was bad?"
"Huh? Oh no, no! The sex was definitely good. I meant what happened after went bad.” You waved your hands frantically. Your childhood friend chuckled, acknowledging the misunderstanding. 
"So, what happened?"
"I think... Jimin wants to get back together." Your brow furrowed.
"And you don't want to?" She cocked her head in what appeared to be confusion.
"No. Well, yes, but– I don't know."
Guyi nodded, "I see."
The conversation was interrupted by the sound of tiny footsteps, Nary's purple jelly booties thunking against the tile floor.
"Guyi, can I pretty please have some mac and cheese?" Her eyes were round and pleading, even taking one of Guyi's hands into hers for good measure. 
Your heart melted at the cute girl, but Guyi seemed entirely unfazed. "I fed you like an hour ago."
Nary let out a frustrated groan, letting go of her babysitter's hand, sweet sugary expression now replaced with a bitter one.
"I'm gonna tell my mom you're starving me!" She sneered, sticking her nose up angrily.
What did Guyi call Nary again? A rampaging goblin? You suppose you could see that.
Guyi brought a finger up to her chin, humming in contemplation.
"How about instead I give you a Kool-Aid and push bedtime back 30 minutes?"
Nary's face lit up, a small gasp pushing past her lips.
"The twisty top kind?" She bounced in place.
"Sure, just be careful opening it; if you get any Kool-Aid on your shirt, your mom will freak." Guyi moved towards the pantry, prying it open as she reached to give the kid the promised drink.
"So, what's holding you back?" She asked you as she rummaged.
You hesitated, eyes flickering over to the back of Nary's head, wondering if it was really okay to talk about all this with a child present.
"I just… I'm so afraid of hurting him again." You shifted.
"Hurt who?" Nary turned towards you immediately, clearly the nosy kind.
"Her boyfriend." Guyi handed the little girl the plastic bottle.
You cleared your throat. "He's not my boyfriend."
"Why not?" Nary asked, hand over her drink's tricky twist-off cap.
"Um… long story."
"Like four years long." Guyi snorted.
"It just doesn't make sense, right? For us to get together just for me to leave town again? That would hurt both of us." You pressed, needing to hear her say it. For her to confirm what you already knew.
A small gasp pulled Guyi's eyes off of you, both of you looking over to see a wide-mouthed Nary with a wet, red stain running down the front of her white shirt.
"You've got to be kidding me!" Guyi exclaimed, bounding into action as she grabbed a paper towel and ran it under the kitchen sink, cursing as she began rubbing at Nary's shirt. It was useless, though, the artificial juice proving unforgiving.
Nary didn't seem bothered, bringing the drink back up to her lips, sipping it as her babysitter scrubbed at her shirt furiously.
"It's no use. Go upstairs and wait for me. I'll run you a bath and start the laundry."
"Let me start the laundry. You go help her with the bath, okay?" You offered to which Guyi gave you a grateful smile.
You really didn't mind the change in conversation. It was a nice distraction for the otherwise emotionally draining topic. You hummed to yourself as you emptied out the presently full washer, taking it upon yourself to start the dryer. You waited patiently as Guyi came back downstairs, Nary's stained shirt in one hand and suds in the other.
"All good?"
"Yeah, I put bubbles in the water and gave her her favorite bath time dolls. She'll holler when she's done." She sighed, eyeing the washing machine that was now running.
"Man, bubble bath? It must be nice to be a kid. I'd give anything to go back."
You had said it light heartedly, but for some reason, it evoked a sad expression from Guyi, who was looking at you with her lips pressed together.
"Can I ask you something?" She said suddenly.
Leaning back on the washing machine, you nodded, "Sure, anything."
"Are you okay?" She sounded suddenly serious, taking you by surprise.
You let out a confused laugh, "Yeah, of course–"
"No, I mean, really, Y/N. Are you happy?"
Falling silent, you couldn't conjure up a response.
"We haven't talked since your parents passed. Not really, at least."
You fought back the urge to immediately dismiss her. To tell her that there was nothing to talk about. But you knew that wasn't true.
"Leaving town in the middle of the night and not telling anyone where you're going… drinking yourself sick at the mention of your parents… those aren't healthy coping mechanisms. I'm worried you haven't grieved their deaths properly." Guyi pointed out, always the observant one.
She was right, of course. The moment you had left town, it was city after city, job after job, lover after lover– as many distractions you could grab hold of to keep your mind off your old life and all you had lost.
You swallowed dryly.
"The first year after they died, it felt like I was sleepwalking. I don't actually remember much of it… I don't even remember their funeral. I know that sounds insane–"
Guyi was quick to cut you off, shaking her head as she leaned back next to you.
"Not insane. Memory loss is a common trauma response. It just how the human psyche protects itself." She assured you.
Nodding, you took comfort in her words.
"I guess it just finally starting to feel real. Seeing everyone. Being here while they're not." Your brows furrowed themselves. You felt Guyi's hand fall onto your shoulder, a silent gesture of sympathy, and a promise that she was listening.
"It doesn't feel fair that I get to come back, and they don't." Your voice was small, too scared to speak any louder out of fear that your word might tremble. You blinked away tears. "Fuck, what am I doing back here, Guyi?"
"I don't know." She answered you honestly, pulling a small smile from you.
Then suddenly, she was meeting your eyes intensely.
"But it's okay for you to find out."
You nearly asked what she meant, but she kept going, an earnest timber to her tone.
"Whoever it is, whatever it is— I think you left something behind when you left all those years ago. I think it's why you came back. To look for it. Even if you find it just to let it go again, just know it's okay. It's okay to figure it out as you go. You don't have to know what to do immediately. It's okay." She offered you a small smile.
Something inside you stirred hearing her say that, like a weight that you hadn't notice crushing you had eased somehow.
A single tear fell from you silently and you wiped it away as quickly as it fell, a nod the only response you could work up the courage to give her.
“Do you want me to come down with you?” Hobi offered.
You were shaking your head before he had even finished that thought. The idea of him joining as you interrogated Jimin about the status of your relationship was beyond embarrassing. That fact that he had driven you to do it was humiliating enough. 
Hoseok pulled his car into park, leaning back into his seat.
“Good luck, then.”
Nodding, you unbuckled your seat belt, eyeing the Park Auto Repair shop carefully as you slipped out of the car.
Tucking your hands into the pocket of your jeans, you tried your best to look nonchalant as you made your way over. The auto shop had been run by the Park family for as long as anyone in this town could remember; it was only a matter of time that Jimin would take up a job there, one day taking over his dad as an owner like his father had done with his grandfather before him.
A handful of mechanics were hard at work, tinkering with their assigned vehicle in the large open garage. None of them seemed to pay you any mind, however. Not that you minded, scouring the uniformed bodies in search of a familiar face. You recognized some of them: a friend of the Park family, a girl from your high school, long time employees. None of which were the person you were hoping to find. 
Your search came to an abrupt stop when emerging from the supply closet came just the man you were looking for.
He made his way over, wiping his hands on a stain rag, a grease stain running along the length of his pretty cheeks.
“Hi.” You breathed, suddenly forgetting the whole reason you were here.
Your heart was somersaulting in your chest, words failing as you took note of his hair, damp with sweat but still so attractive.
 He nodded back at you, throwing the rag over his shoulder coolly, “Hey.”
You really were so pathetic. Jimin wasn’t doing anything but standing there in his dirty uniform, and yet you were still rendered a fumbling mess. All you could do was smile back at him, lamenting in silence, knowing he had no idea what kind of effect he had on you.
“Hobi said you’d be here.” You explained, perhaps unnecessarily. 
As if on cue, Jimin looked past you, a handsome grin present as he noticed Hoseok’s car parked across the road.
“Is that him right there?”
“Hobi is also my ride.” You laughed awkwardly. “So um… do you have a minute? Or if you’re busy and working, I can always come back later!”
You were a nervous wreck. And the fact that Jimin was grinning at you, amused at your flustered state, wasn’t making this any easier.
“Hey, pops!” He called across the garage suddenly.
You watched as his father emerged from underneath a car, his expression mirroring Jimin’s as he noticed you standing beside his son.
“Mind if I bounce for a sec?” Jimin continued.
Receiving the okay from his father, you followed your ex-boyfriend towards the back of the garage, letting out a slight satisfied noise at the gust of air conditioning that greeted you as you step through a door in the building. Jimin led you into what seemed to be a break room, stocked with a fridge, table, and small sink.
You might have thought to inspect the room closer if it weren’t for the distracting sight of Jimin bent over the sink, running his hands under the faucet, bringing the water up to his face to clean up before pushing his hair back with his wet hands, much to your dismay.
He turned to face you, completely unaware of how his new slicked-back look had your heart at your throat.
“So, um, you work with your dad now. That’s cool.”
It was a pathetic attempt as small talk, but it was all you could muster up at the moment, what with your painfully attractive and uniformed ex standing in front of you, cross-armed and leaning back against the sink, hair pushed back as he tried his best to supress a smirk.
His shoulders bounced once, showing off his ease, “Sure.”
“Fixing cars. Cool. You must be pretty good at it, huh?” You rambled.
Dear God, someone make you shut up.
“Uh, I guess. I really just help out with the easy fixes, though. Fender benders and whatnot.” Jimin explained.
“Wow, that’s… so cool.” You found yourself repeating.
Say cool one more time.
You had never pegged yourself as someone with a thing for uniforms, but here you were, as giddy as a schoolgirl.
“Bug,” He said. 
“Is this what you wanted to talk about?” He chuckled.
“Oh! Oh, no. Yeah. Right.” You tucked a hair behind your ear. “Uh, so basically...”
Jimin was looking at you so intensely – so earnestly – you struggled with your thoughts. It shouldn’t be this hard. You had spent the whole night imagining this conversation in your head over and over, yet now you were akin to a baby lamb, wobbling as it stood on its legs for the first time.
Furrowing your brow, you took a deep breath.
“We’re not just friendly. It’s been years, and I am still in love with you.”
His eyes went wide, taken aback at your sudden confession.
“So in love with you that I stay up at night wishing I never left. Wishing that I came back years earlier. And it scares the shit out of me. It scares me because my head is still telling me that being here is a mistake, but I can’t seem to get my heart to shut up.” You cleared your throat.
Well there. You laid your heart on the line. Mission accomplish.
You watched with uncertainty as Jimin pushed himself back up from the sink, face unreadable as he shook his head as if trying to clear his thoughts. 
“You still love me?” He marveled.
You didn’t know what to make of his tone. Was it disbelief? Anger? Relief? 
“Are you angry?” An apology already at the tip of your tongue.
The last thing you wanted to do was upset Jimin. You just thought he deserved the truth, but maybe you really were being selfish– perhaps you should’ve let him continue believing the lie that you didn’t love him. Maybe easy was better than honest.
Suddenly he was cupping your face, his thumb rubbing against your jaw gently.
“Angry? Y/N, I have spent the last four years loving you without even knowing where you were.” He cooed softly, and just like that, all your nerves and reservations fell away, melting under his touch.
“I never thought I would see you again.” His voice was velvet, coating you in the familiar warmth you had spent years seeking out from strangers. “And now you’re back.”
“It can’t go back to the way it used to,” you began, eyes falling down onto his lips, only inches from yours.
“I know.” He sounded so far away in comparison to the proximity of his mouth, bottom lip ghosting your very own.
“And I can’t promise you for how long I’ll stay–”
“Lovebug.” He interrupted, fingers sliding down to the back of your neck.
“Stop talking.”
His mouth found yours carefully as if testing the waters for the first time in years. You preened into his mouth, pulling him close as you met his pace. You were starved for his touch, lips parting in time with his. You loved him. He loved you. 
You were on air; pushed back into the wall with Jimin’s mouth on your neck, you were floating.
“I love you.” You breathed. Your cheeks were flushed.
A happy hum was pressed into your skin, painting a harmony alongside the kisses he laid there.
“And I love you.” He promised, meeting you for another kiss, his body pressed against yours.
You kissed him once more, this time far more feverish and needy, the both of you working on savoring the taste of each other. His fingers dug into your sides greedily as he kissed you hard, tongue working against yours.
“I don’t,” you said between heavy breaths, “want to keep you from work.”
Jimin pulled away from your lips with a disappointed sigh. He looked at you with a pout.
“Screw work. Better yet, screw me.”
“Minnie!” You laughed. He returned the giggle, finally pulling away from you.
You loved him. You were almost sick with how much you loved him. Was this really okay? Were you allowed to love him like this again? Because behind the stars in your eyes were comets of doubt and insecurity, blimps of light that told you you were undeserving of the love he promised to give.
“Come see me tonight, okay? I get off at 8.” He asked.
He stole you from your thoughts, as he often did. And just like that, you were in mindless agreement.
A silent swoon fell over you as his hand reached for yours, bringing your knuckles to his mouth as he lay a gentle kiss there.
Chest tightening, you wondered how on earth you could have ever hurt him.
“I promise.”
“Fuck me.”
Jimin was sat at the edge of the bed, one fist full of your hair and the other gripping his duvet. He shuttered, his torso flexing with every jerk of his hips.
You knelt on the floor, his cock wrapped around your soft lips, tongue working him in the way only you could. Jimin always thought you looked so pretty like this, eye makeup smudged and drool pooling by the sides of your mouth. You always worked so hard to make him feel good, and he felt so god damn lucky panting into the dark of his room as you simultaneously worked a hand up and down his shaft.
“Forgot how fucking good you were at this. You’re so fucking hot.” He whined, always more honest when your mouth was working him like this.
“I love making you feel good.” You purred against his skin, fingertips pressing into the flesh of his thighs.
He let out a moan, pushing your head down further onto his cock to hear the tiny squeak of surprise that would always follow. You let him guide you, bopping up and down the hot muscle as you ran your tongue around him tactically.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck! Baby, where can I cum?”
“Anywhere,” you paused, running a slow kitten lick against the angry red tip of his cock before amending your answer, “…everywhere.”
“Fuck, hngh, s-shirt off.”
Slipping off the thin t-shirt, you revealed the bare state of your breasts, nipples hardened as they hit the cool air, cheeks flushed, and lips swollen as you watched your boyfriend jerk himself off, eyes fixated on your naked chest.
“So pretty, baby, so pretty. Gonna paint you with my cum. Fuck’s sake.” He rambled to himself frantically as his movements quickened before finally, a choked grunt escaped him as a string of white fell onto your skin.
It was warm and sticky, and you’d honestly much rather he cum anywhere but your chest, but seeing him sweating and whining your name as he painted your skin white was worth the discomfort.
Jimin’s head lulled forward for a moment, smirking as he recovered his breath. Grinning, you bit his thigh playfully, happy to have made your boyfriend feel good.
“I’m sticky.” You pouted.
“You’re gorgeous.” He countered, moving to cup your breasts in his hands.
You squirmed underneath his touch, face grimacing slightly.
“Sorry,” He pulled back at the sound of your discomfort. “I forget how sensitive they get when you’re on your period.”
You flashed him a sheepish smile, still apologetic that mother nature had limited tonight’s playtime. While Jimin was always down no matter the conditions, you frankly just weren’t in the mood; sore, bloated, and far too lazy to exert any sort of full-body effort.
While Jimin had assured you that he understood and was perfectly fine cuddling all night, you still couldn’t help but find your hand running along the length of his grey sweats, which lead an over the clothes hand job to turn into his dick in your mouth.
“I’ll get you something to clean you off.” He told you, rolling off the bed with a happy sound.
You waited patiently as he came over with a wet rag, cleaning you with ginger hands.
Pressing a kiss against your cheek, he set the rag aside, helping you off your knees and beckoning you back to bed with outstretched arms and an invitation to cuddle.
Feeling somewhat exposed, you turned onto your stomach, resting your chin against his chest.
“You’re warm.” You commented, fingers brushing along the apples of his cheek.
“Post orgasm glow.” He joked, making you chuckle. “Are you sure I can’t return the favor?”
You shook your head, “I appreciate the offer, but I promise cuddles are more than satisfactory.”
Jimin’s fingers were running against your back tenderly, goosebumps breaking out along your exposed skin. His room always ran somewhat cold from what you could remember. Honestly, though, the two of you spent much of your time here tangled up in his sheets so it was kind of hard to say.
Endless naps and endless sex. How the two of you took for granted how simple life used to be.
“You did that back then too.” He said suddenly.
“Resting your head on my chest. You hardly ever used a pillow when you stayed over.” He reminisced.
“I liked the sound of your heartbeat.” You nodded. “Helped me go to sleep.”
He smiled at your words, eyes wandering over the posters he had pinned onto his ceiling. He hadn’t changed a single one. Not since you left.
A nostalgic feeling washed over him.
“You know… I used to lay in bed at night and stare at my ceiling for hours, imagining what your life was like. Wondering if you were going to bed like I was, or if you had made your way across the country and were just starting your day.”
You stayed silent as he spoke, listening to the way his pulse picked up just slightly.
“I’d keep myself up with thoughts of you meeting someone and resting your head on their chest as you fell asleep,” he chuckled, “man, I really used to tortured myself.”
The memory held a note of bitterness, and you wondered if he had let it slip intentionally or if you were just overthinking once again. 
Pressing a kiss into his skin, you looked up at him. 
“When I got on that bus, I had no plan– not a single clue where I was running to, only where I was running from. As soon as I got off, I walked around aimlessly for hours, just wondering what the hell I was doing. And by chance, I noticed a tiny 24-hour laundromat that was hiring, and… well, that was better than doing nothing.” You thought back with a fond smile.
The dark-haired boy observed as you began to unfold the past four years of your life.
“My coworker was a moody college student named Nisha who spend the entire shift in the storage closet taking a nap. Can’t say I blame her. It’s a pretty cozy room. The owner was nice enough to let me sleep there for a couple of weeks until I found a place I could afford.” You chuckled.
“You lived in a storage closet?” He mused in disbelief.
“Not exactly the high-end city living, huh? Turns out runaways can’t be choosy.” You joked. “I ended up taking another job closer to the hostel I was living at.“
“And... did you meet anyone?” He asked cautiously.
You contemplated his question, unsure of what kind of anyone he was inquiring about.
“Meeting people was hard. I got on well with a couple of coworkers over the years, sure, but I usually left town before we got close. Nisha was the first and last person I told my sob story to. It’s just better to skip around the heavy stuff when meeting people.” You sighed. “I mean, c’mon, dead parents? Kind of a buzzkill.”
Jimin shook his head, “I just can’t believe you’ve been on your own for all these years.” 
You could only shrug in response.
Sure, having friends you could lean on would’ve been great, but your life consisted of constantly moving forward. Putting down roots anywhere would just have meant more to look back at. And looking back hurt.
“When you first left, you were all I could talk about for months. I must’ve sounded like a broken record. Hobi was a great sport about it, but even I know he must have been sick of me.” He told you.
“So when did you stop? When you met Yoongi?” You asked against your better judgment.
You had no right to ask about Yoongi. With the way you left Jimin without warning, for all he knew, you could’ve wanted nothing to do with him. He had every right to attempt to move on. Still, there was so much your greedy heart wanted to know. How long were they together? Was it serious? Did they love each other?
A frown found your boyfriend’s handsome face, “Do we have to talk about him? The image of him on top of you is still burned into my memory.”
You shot him an apologetic look.
“Yeah, okay, we don’t have to talk about him.”
“Good.” He sighed. “Some things are just better off left in the past.”
Some things are just better off left in the past.
Typically, you would agree, but lying next to Jimin in a room you once knew intimately, you couldn’t help but wonder if that was the case here. Sure, you and Jimin loved each other, but was that enough? Were the two of you just fooling yourselves into thinking that a relationship of the past had any future?
You couldn’t hurt Jimin again. You wouldn’t. How could you possibly hurt him again after he had given you another chance? A chance you didn’t deserve.
Jimin watched the way your eyes grew distant, your face falling slightly.
Your lack of response had him rolling over to face you.
“Hey, hey, look at me.” He cooed, palm finding your cheek.
Your anxious gaze met his sure one.
“I want this. I have always wanted this. And I know it’s not forever, but I don’t care how long we have. Even just right now is enough for me.” 
It felt like he was looking into you, speaking directly to your uncertainties and insecurities. Every scar and bruise, he tended to them all, not noticing the guilt that weighed you down in result.
You swallowed roughly; the selfish bits of your soul clung to his words, refusing to let go of them despite the way the rest of you waded neck-deep in leeriness.
“I’m all in.” He held your glossy eyes. “Are you?”
"It's tearin' up my heart when I'm with you!"
You and Jimin exchanged a look.
"But when we are apart, I feel it too!"
Hoseok threw his head back as he sang along, body jiving from side to side as he drove.
"Oh, he's feeling it." You nodded to your boyfriend, watching as your best friend was fully engulfed by the newest *NSYNC song, the infectious melody filling the entire car.
"And no matter what I do, I feel the pain… with or without you!" Hobi sang enthusiastically, palms smacking his chest in rhythm.
"We really lost him, huh."
Hoseok let out a scoff, fingers wrapping around the radio dial and turning it down, “Can it, emos. You guys are a bunch of haters. Boybands and hip-hop are what is fresh these days, ya know."
"Since when do you care about what's fresh? If I recall, there was a time where you refused to leave the house without your eyeliner on." You laughed.
"I've left all that in the past. That being said... I was a pretty sexy emo, I'll admit." He winked at himself in the rearview mirror.
Jimin stifled a laugh as you rolled your eyes. You suppose it didn't matter what digs he wore, Hobi was still Hobi after all.
"Honestly, though, I'm a happy guy! The music was so angsty. Why were we so angry all the time?" 
"Dead brother." Jimin reminded.
"Dead parents." You added.
"…Right. My bad. Anyway, while I'm glad you guys had that emotional outlet," Hoseok cleared his throat, "I'm just vibing, man. Besides, I still listen to it if it comes on the radio occasionally."
"Speaking of radio, have you guys heard that song, Dammit, yet? It's pretty fly." You remarked.
You watched as Hoseok brought a finger to his chin, tapping it with careful consideration.
"Oh, yeah. It's by that band… Blink 180… something like that. They're not bad." He shrugged.
Nodding in agreement, you continued, "I wanted to swing by the music store and check out the rest of the album if anyone wants to come with."
"I'm down." Jimin agreed easily.
"Ah, it's a no-go for me. I got a Blockbusters date with Gwen tonight." Hoseok told you apologetically.
At the sound of Hoseok's girlfriend's name, you grinned, fond of your new perky pink-haired pal.
"No sweat. Tell her we said hi."
"Guess it's just you and me, bug." Your boyfriend mused, placing a warm hand on top of yours.
Meeting his eyes, you felt a flood of happiness wash over you as your fingers moved to intertwine with his. How good it all felt. How happy you were. It almost felt as if nothing had changed. If you tried hard enough, it was so easy to imagine you and Jimin as you were all those years ago, seventeen and recklessly in love.
"Hey, I meant to ask, why do you call her bug anyway?" Hobi's voice grabbed both of your attention, both of you turning to where he was sat in the front seat of his car.
"Oh, well, it's actually short for Lovebug–"
“Woah, woah, woah! I do not consent to this story being told!" You protested, head shaking wildly as you cut off your boyfriend.
"Wha– No way, José! I'm invested now. Finish the story, dude.” Hobi demanded.
"Basically, it was the night I took Y/N's virginity–"
“Jimin!” You swatted at his arm.
"It's a good story!" The man in question defended, eyes wide.
"It's so embarrassing!" You sulked.
Hobi let out a whine, "C'mon, I gotta know now. Don't leave me hangin'!"
"Whatever. I hate you both." You crossed, your arms over your chest, turning towards the window in defeat, imagining that somehow if you glared at the window hard enough, it would shatter, and you could dive through it and escape.
"This was back before my Pops and I had built my room, and she was too afraid to do it at either of our parents' house. We ended up deciding on doing it in my car." Jimin recalled, making your cheeks heat up.
Hoseok nodded in approval. "Ah, yes, the timeless horny teenager move. Go on."
"Anyway, we were right in the middle of it when a pair of lovebugs got into my car somehow. I didn't really care and tried to keep going, but Y/N was totally wigging out, so I pulled out and spent like ten minutes trying to get these bugs out."
"Damn, dick out and everything?!" Hoseok laughed.
"Dick out and everything," Jimin confirmed.
"So what happened? Did you get the bugs out?"
"Nah, I gave up, and we had sex with them inside." Jimin shrugged.
Hoseok's eyebrows began to dance, his reflection taunting you. "Damn, Y/N, you let Jimin hit it in front of an audience? Super freak!"
"Oh, shut up." You chided.
"Lovebug just stuck after that." Jimin laughed, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, hoping to ease your pout.
Keeping your nose turned upwards, you let your boyfriend shower you in apologetic kisses, trying your best to hide the small smile that threatened its way out onto your face.
"Hobi, you're dropping us off at Grams', right?" Jimin ceased his display of affection, moving to peer out the window.
"Yeah, why?" The designated driver responded automatically.
"Dude. You missed your turn."
Annoyance forgot, you now also turned your attention onto the road, curious as to where in the world Hoseok had wound up.
"Ah, shit!" Hobi frowned, "Eh, I know another way, no biggie."
The car made a sudden sharp turn into a neighborhood, causing you to slide into Jimin. 
"Jeez! Warn us next time!" You laughed.
Ironically enough, despite Hoseok being the first to get his license in your friend group, he was arguably the worst driver. God, things really hadn't changed.
Even as Jimin, Hoseok, and you made your way down the halls of the unfamiliar Walmart in search of hair bleach, there was still a sense of nostalgia that lingered between the three of you. You had almost forgotten what it was like, to be surrounded by people who knew you… who really knew you.
A flash of red pulled you to the present. Watching as you drove past an obnoxiously painted house, a memory lit up inside you. You let out a noise of contemplation. However, it didn't go unnoticed by Jimin, who leaned over to see what had caught your attention.
"You good?"
"I remember that house." You told him.
Brows furrowing, you observed every passing home closely, stomach sinking inch by inch as every single fence and tree began to stir a feeling of familiarity inside you. You knew this road. You drove down it nearly every day for 18 years.
A sharp breath ripped through your chest as your hands began to tremble. It was their neighborhood. It was their road.
"Y/N?" Jimin caught onto your tensing state immediately.
Passing a massive oak that held up an old tire swing that your dad had put up for you made your heart ache, but seeing the building that was built next to it made your heart shatter altogether.
"Stop the car." You muttered before you could think otherwise.
"What was that?" Hoseok called back to you, not hearing you over the harmonies of TLC on the radio.
"Hobi, stop the fucking car!"
You swung your door open before the car had come to a complete stop, moving as if you had seconds to act, and the timer had already begun.
Because the plot of land you had just passed was your parents. And built on top of it was a shiny white building, a flashy sign saying 'Daycare' plastered across the front in childish lettering.
You could hear Hoseok call from behind you. But you didn't answer him. How could you when the way a jungle gym had made itself home atop of where your mother's garden used to be?
"Kid, hey!" 
Hoseok caught up to you, Jimin only seconds behind him.
"I don't understand." You said more to yourself than anyone.
"We're in the middle of the road. Let's get back in the car." Hobi pleaded, eyes flashing from left to right to make sure no other car was making its way down this street.
"This doesn't make any sense. Why wouldn't they just rebuild it? W-Why..."
Your head was all over the place, your breathing fast and uneven. Suddenly angry, you turned towards Hoseok, remembering that his mother was on the city council. Surely, he could help you make sense of it all.
"How did this happen? They should've fixed up the house. They can't just tear it down and built over it. Like... like it was nothing. Like it never happened."
Eyeing your trembling form, Hobi didn't know how to respond. What could he possibly say that would make up for what you lost. He opted for the truth.
"The town decided it would be best to convert the property into something that would benefit the community. They figured… they figured it was what your parents would have wanted." He told you quietly.
"The town decided? What the fuck does this town know about what my parents would have wanted?" You scoffed.
Hoseok hesitated before replying, "I'm sorry, kid. They ran it past Elvie, and she agreed."
You felt dizzy. 
"How can anyone say what they would've wanted? Did anyone think to ask them? Oh yeah, you can't because they're fucking dead! They're… they're dead…" Your voice gave out as tears pooled your eyes.
And all at once, it hit you. You were wrong. Things had changed. The life you had spent so long reminiscing on was gone. Your parents were gone. Anything you did moving forward would be without them. Your dad would never walk you down the aisle. Your mother would never offer to help babysit your kids. All you had left were your memories of them, and it wasn't enough. How could it possibly be enough?
The corner of Hoseok's mouth jerked downward as he fought off his own wave of emotions watching you break down like this.
"C'mon, bug. Let's go home." Jimin spoke finally, moving towards you.
You took a step back, a sob ripping through you, "I can't." 
Your childhood lover took you into his arms, holding you close as your knees went weak.
"I'm so sorry, baby. I'm so sorry." 
"It's not fair. It's just not fair." You wept.
Jimin held you the entire ride back, his cheek pressed against the top of your head, muttering soothing words as you let yourself mourn the death of your parents for the first time since their funeral.
Hoseok drove back carefully, wiping away his tears with the back of his palm as they fell from his eyes.
You had so much regret. It suffocated you.
Your parents did the best they could; between work and a moody teenage daughter, they always put up with your shit. If only you hadn't been so wrapped up in your own bullshit, you could've made more of an effort to be a better daughter, to spend more time with them, instead of running away to your grandmother's at every argument you had with them.
Their absence was an ache in your chest that never left you. From the day the sheriff knocked on your grandmother's door that fateful night, his hat in his hands apologetically, to this very day, when all evidence of your childhood home had been erased, and no one but you seemed to mind much.
You were tucked up in your tiny bed, silence wrapping around your entire room as you watched blankly as Jimin crawled in next to you, pressing you into him. 
He had gotten you home safely, helping you to bed before going back down to explain to a very worried Grams what had happened to have her granddaughter returning home in a broken-down heap.
You could smell the scent of cinnamon wafting in from downstairs. You could picture the way your grandmother was rummaging through the kitchen, kneading the cookie dough with intent as she whipped up her famous snickerdoodles, an old staple she used to make you whenever you were sick.
You wondered briefly if cookies would help when you felt heartsick too.
"Do you want to talk it out?" He asked you gently, pressing a kiss against your forehead. 
You nodded silently.
"Okay. What's on your mind?"
It was hard to articulate precisely what you were feeling. There was no one word for the grief inside your heart. But still, you had to try.
"That I hate this. I hate this town and what it took from me. And that after all these years, it still hurts this bad." Your voice was rough, a consequence of your sobbing. 
You continued as if suddenly unable to hold everything back. "I feel lost. No matter where I run to, nothing feels like home."
Jimin's eyes held so many unspoken words. There was so much he wanted to say. He could see the way you were breaking slowly in front of him.
"Except for you." You confessed, taking him by surprise. 
"You were always my home, even when mine burnt down. And I never thanked you for that." You held his eyes earnestly. "I love you, Minnie."
"I love you too, bug." He said. And he meant it.
Suddenly, your face crumpled up in melancholy, as if your next words physically hurt to say.
"I love you… I just don't know how to love you here."
A beat of silence passed between the two lovers. You swallowed roughly as tears found you once again.
"But I'm gonna try. I promise I'm gonna try." You grieved.
And for the first time that whole day, Jimin let himself cry. Because loving him was hurting you, and he didn't know how to let you go. 
So he held you tighter, the two of you feeling infinitely small under the faded plastic glow in the dark stars on your ceiling.
890 notes · View notes
jjiimin · 4 months ago
poetry of the stars
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❦ synopsis: yn and her family are social pariahs a year after her older brother confessed to the murder of his secret girlfriend, who was also yn's best friend. with normalcy as a thing of the past, all yn wants is to work through the summer and save up enough money to leave her town forever. but what happens when the job she gets hired for means working alongside the brother of the friend she lost?
❦ genre: fluff, angst, enemies to lovers, best friend’s brother au
❦ warnings: theme of murder; guilt by association; hurt/comfort; general emotional pain; minor character death (pre-fic); lots of anger; emotional bullying; lots of sadness; taehyung is a bit 'rough' in one of the scenes; yn gets physically assaulted by someone (non-graphic);
❦ playlist: sweet night by kim taehyung; soldier by before you exit
❦ book inspo: even if i fall by abigail johnson (an absolute fav)
❦ word count: 25.4k
❦ dedication: @diorpark and @unstablecutehoe, thank you for always being so kind in your reviews, it means the world to me <3
❦ author's note: this fic was inspired by the book mentioned above, which focuses on murder, the power of love, and a search for the truth. this fic is angst-heavy, though it has a happy ending. despite the warnings, i hope you will give it a chance. side note: although this is 100% a reader/yn fic, i couldn't help but imagine actress, choi seongeun (yoo jaeyi from beyond evil) as YN. while watching beyond evil, i thought she perfectly encapsulates how i imagined YN in this fic. please enjoy this a lot! happy reading~!! :]
Every morning, there is a loud banging at the door.
It starts an hour or so after sunrise and lasts about five minutes. Most days, no one in my family pays much attention to it. My father, who lives in the guest room now, wears earplugs to bed while my mother is usually too lost in her own thoughts to notice any sort of sound. My little brother throws a pillow over his head and pretends he doesn’t hear it.
I don’t do any of these things.
Instead, I grab my brown cardigan and tiptoe downstairs, careful in skipping the third to last step. It’s creaky, and also a reminder of the person who said he would fix it eventually.
When I get to the front door, I only open it a smidge. Just enough to inspect the damage before I have to deal with it. Today’s weapon is two dozen eggs. Large, white eggs from the only grocery store in this town. The way the eggs splatter against the blue of our door would be perfect for an art exhibit in New York City. They would call it broken eggs upon a door and charge people to see it.
It’s funny because I get to see it for free.
I take a step back from the door once I realize the boys are gone. Then, I head to the kitchen for some paper towels and an extra bag. The weather is warm. Customary for the start of summer. Most people in the neighbourhood should be out for walks, but they aren’t. It may have to do with the fact that not many people live around here anymore. Almost a year ago, after the indictment, most of our neighbours sold their properties and moved away. Whether it was the reporters who drove them away or the fact that they were living on the same street as the family of a murderer, I don’t know.
“What a waste of perfectly good eggs,” I comment to myself as I gather the broken eggshells then use a paper towel to wipe up the liquid. “They should have stuck to paint balloons.” It takes me a few minutes to wipe up the best to my satisfaction. When I’m done, I tie the small bag.
Just as I’m standing up, another egg comes flying my way, pelting me square on the back. I stagger forward from the impact, grabbing the edge of the door to keep myself upright.
“Murderers!” A familiar voice yells, followed by the pelting of about a dozen more eggs. I don’t do the smart thing and race inside. What I do instead is crouch on the floor, hiding behind one of my mother’s old potted plants.
“Kill yourselves!”
“Shameless! You all deserve to be in prison!”
“You raised a murderer!”
“You call yourselves human?!”
There are about four or five voices in total. I recognize all of them as classmates. Boys I’ve known since I was five years old. We went to the same schools all our lives. Played tag and hide-and-go-seek during recess. Skinned our knees together. Made fun of our teachers together. Grew up together.
And perhaps this is what hurts the most. That while knowing me, and growing up with me, they still choose to do what they do to me. I don’t know why I’m so hurt by it. It’s been a year. I should be used to it by now. But does anyone ever get used to something like this?
After another minute or so, the pelting dies down alongside the aggressive voices. I know I should stay in hiding. It would be better that way. I should wait for them to leave so I can finish cleaning up. Our door is once again covered in a gooey mess of eggs, and I need more paper towels.
Counting to three inside my head, I squeeze my hands into fists and slowly rise to my feet. I try not to look at the boys as they stand on the road, watching me, but I can’t help it. For a brief moment, my eyes flicker to where they shake their heads at me then start walking away.
Except one.
The only one whose voice I never heard. The only one I know best from the lot. The only one who continues staring even as the other boys turn their backs to me.
As soon as our eyes meet, I lower my gaze. I used to dream about the day he would look at me for longer than a few seconds. I just never imagined it would be in this context.
I hear one of the boys shout his name and that’s when I look up again. He’s walking towards me now, up the short flight of stairs, until we are face-to-face.
I don’t know what I expected him to do, being so close to me, but perhaps, just like everything else today, I should have known what would come next in the sequence of events.
The boy I have known all my life reaches inside the pocket of his sweater and pulls out an identical white egg. His eyes are dark. Unreadable, even though I used to be able to read them so well. He used to say, YN, you’re the only one who knows me and that’s why I like you best, which always resulted in his sister smacking him on the arm for teasing me. Don’t listen to him, YN. He’s being an idiot, she would tell me.
But later, when I left their home and returned to my own, I would lay in bed with my eyes closed and pretend he really meant it. That I knew him. That he likes me best. That he sees me as more than just his little sister’s best friend. I wanted to believe I had an advantage over all the other girls vying for his attention. I liked thinking I was special to him.
That was before, and this is now.
The last time he teased me was the last time we spoke. Even at the funeral, it was his best friends who threw me out, not him. He hadn’t said a word back then. A face of stone. Grim, emotionless. He was grieving in his own way, unlike his parents who cried all through the service.
Quiet eyes boring into mine, the boy of my childhood dreams raises an arm above my head then cracks the egg between his fingers. As the cracked shell and liquid pour down my hair, I don’t break eye contact and neither does he. I watch the way his jaw sets and his lips thin out. He keeps his eyes on me while the egg runs down my cheeks and drips onto my cardigan.
And perhaps I am shameless because I whisper his name.
A smirk hints at his lips for a fraction of a second before he replaces it with a frown. Barely there before it’s gone again. Shaking his hand out, he flicks away the remainder of the egg and stands back, distancing himself from me. I fist my hands again, and keep them tight by my side.
“Enjoy your breakfast, YN,” he jests, not a trace of a smile to be found. “Sorry, I forgot to bring the salt and pepper.”
When he leaves, I count to three again before reaching up to touch the broken egg flowing through my strands. The yellowy fluid is rancid. He used a rotten egg. I don’t know why this adds to the pain.
Turning on my feet to watch him walk down the road to meet his friends, I think back to the first time we met.
I was seven, and he was eight.
I was far too shy back then to say hello to anyone at the park. But his sister wasn’t, and neither was he. Hyeryung and her brother were social butterflies. The best of friends who had no trouble befriending me.
I was sitting in the sandbox trying to build a castle when she asked for my name. Once I told her, she ran to grab her brother and forced him to say hello to me. And when he did, my little seven year old heart felt like it was soaring. It felt like the best feeling in the world. I knew right then and there that this boy would mean something special to me.
Later, almost a week later, Hyeryung came over to my house for the first time. That was the weekend my older brother was having his eleventh birthday party. I didn’t know it back then but that was the day Hyeryung’s own little seven year old heart soared, too.
. . . ❤ . . .
Back inside the house, I stand in the foyer to gather my incessant jittering and shaky limbs. With the putrid scent of the eggs all over me, I know I need to shower if I want to feel anything like a normal human being again.
Quietly taking off my slippers, I lay them to the side and start walking towards the stairs when I hear someone slurp. The sound directs my head towards my little brother at the breakfast table with a bowl of cereal in front of him. He keeps his eyes trained on my figure, taking me in in all my misery while I stand at the foot of the staircase. Blindly, I reach up for my hair. I don’t want him to see me like this.
“O-Oh, you’re awake,” I greet anxiously, trying to smile despite the flickers of dry egg yolk on my cheeks. “Did you sleep well?”
My brother blinks twice before he reaches in for another spoon of cereal. Around a mouthful of Coco Puffs—which I’m sure are stale since I don’t remember buying a new box on Saturday—he says, “If you wanted to go out, you should have used the back door.”
“R-Right,” I mumble, glancing down at my dirty clothes. Before I look back up, I plaster on a smile. For both our sakes. “I bought some Corn Flakes on the weekend—”
“Did Tae throw eggs at you, too?”
His question feels like a blow to my stomach, sending me flying back out the door I walked in from. Just by the way he nearly whispers the question, I know he didn’t want to ask it. And even more, he is afraid of the answer.
All these years, despite their age gap, Jinnie has always proudly claimed Taehyung as a friend. Best friend, he would often correct me when Hyeryung and I teased him about it. Even more than our older brother, Taehyung spent time playing games with Jinnie or helping him with homework. I hate that I can’t fix this for him. I hate that my baby brother’s memories are muddied rotten because of his older siblings.
Slowly lifting my shoulders, I clear my throat and answer, “It wasn’t him, Jinnie, so don’t worry. I’m just going to shower and then we can study together, okay? Before Mrs. Nguyen calls for us.”
With that, I spare him one last broken smile and quickly race up the stairs. They creak absurdly with the weight of my hasty movements, but I could care less. Fresh tears are flowing down my cheeks before I even make it to the bathroom. I don’t bother wiping them and step into the cold shower.
Around fifteen minutes later, I open the bathroom door again and race to my room, dripping wet. Of course I forgot to take a towel in with me. Thinking through my actions isn’t something I’ve been doing a lot of lately. I tell myself if I think less, then the memories and the reminders of two families’ sorrows will fade away.
They never do.
Inside my room, I focus on the painting hanging on a wall next to my bed while I change into jeans and a t-shirt.
Hyeryung painted it, back when we were freshmen. It was a painting which she received a prize for at our school’s annual talent exhibition. She had painted it in under an hour. After receiving the award, Hyeryung pushed the painting into my arms.
A gift, she said. For my second favourite person in the world.
Who’s your first?
You know who.
In the painting, there are two ships. Two different colours, two different styles, two different desires. One ship was painted blue and sitting at harbour. The other ship was a bit further into the ocean, and it was purple.
When Hyeryung was asked what the ships represented, she explained, “A ship in harbour is safe – but that is not what ships are built for.”
I was standing next to Taehyung as she delivered her grandiose speech to the crowd of parents and teachers gawking at her artistry, equally as amazed by her art as I was with her words. But then Taehyung, upon noticing my awe, poked me in the side of my stomach and showed me something on his phone.
A Google search.
It was just like my best friend to quote someone and not give them credit.
Looking at the painting now is difficult. It reminds me of the person who painted it, who helped me put it up, and the person who deserved better than what she was given. A year ago, Hyeryung was a happy-go-lucky sophomore in high school who had her whole future planned out.
“I want to be a pharmacist.”
“Wait… what?”
“I said,” Hyeryung playfully rolled her eyes. “I want to be a pharmacist after uni.”
“You? Seriously? You really want to do that?”
“Why? What’s so bad about being a pharmacist?”
“There’s nothing wrong with it, just that… I imagined you doing something in the arts.”
“Nah,” she shrugged. “Painting is my hobby. If I made it my career, I would end up hating it. That’s why I want to be a pharmacist, so I can make lots of money and afford expensive art equipment.” She pauses. “And also so my kids can tell their friends their mother sells drugs.”
The walls of my bedroom are encased in her laughter, as well as my own. Every surface littered with the giggles from my our childhood—nine years old, coming home with McDonald’s and sharing fries; thirteen years old, talking about ‘whatever are we doing to do about our first kiss?’; and sixteen years old, talking about what life after graduation would be like.
My hair smells like strawberries as I unwrap the towel. Thick, mid-length tresses flow down my shoulders in a hue of black and crimson. While I sincerely regret box-highlighting my hair, I can’t help but think it’s the only thing in my life which still means something to me. This was the colour Hyeri picked out for me, while I picked blue for her. We were going to be like those girls in the animes we loved. In a way, this horrible hair-job is a way of celebrating her memory, as much as I am able to.
Jinnie is laying out his books and stationary when I walk back downstairs. Next to his things is a bowl of Corn Flakes and a jug of milk—my breakfast. Smiling to myself, I gently ruffle my little brother’s hair and sit down, crossing my legs as I do so.
Before digging into my food, I ask, “Are you going to see Jamal and Hunter at the park later? Do you want me walk you over there?”
“No? Why not? Don’t you want to see your friends?”
Jinnie stops shuffling his pens and pencils, which are already perfectly in order, and mumbles, “They said they didn’t want me to come.”
“They don’t want you to…” as my words trail off into a mist, curdling pain seers its way in as substitute. All at once, I am rendered speechless and immobile. This news is nothing unfamiliar, and while I should be accustomed to it after the passing of an entire year, the truth is that I’m not. My little brother’s words affect me in this moment the same way they did the first time he uttered them. And the second. And the third. And all the times in between. Curling a hand over the edge of the breakfast table, I scoot forward in an attempt to wade off any worry I may pass along to the ten-year-old unknowingly. I paste on a faux jubilant smile and announce, “We’ll go for ice cream, okay? Just the two of us.” I don’t add – and he doesn’t comment – how it’s always the two of us who do anything together anymore. Our father is scarce around the home, and our mother even less so despite the fact that she does not work. Even when I bring dinner to her room, she does not touch it.
Pausing on his highlighters which he arranged lightest to darkest, Jinnie mumbles, “I don’t want ice cream.”
I bite my lip and tighten the grip I have on the table. It’s okay, it’s okay, I tell myself. It’s going to be okay. I can handle this. We may be eight years apart, but I can totally handle this. “Okay, no ice cream. Should we go get milkshakes—?”
“I don’t want stupid ice cream! I want my friends!”
Last year, after the final verdict blazed through the court and the officers took our older brother away in handcuffs, a group of news reporters heckled what was left of our family outside the courthouse. Our brother’s lawyer—the one we had to take out three different loans to afford— had arranged for a cab to pick us up discretely so that we wouldn’t end up on Channel 7 news, but it arrived late, which gave the news hawks plenty of time to interrogate us.
Mom was sobbing while Dad held her, shielding her face from the reporters. This didn’t leave much strength for Dad to protect us. When the reporters were finished recording our mother’s wails and our father’s deathly silence, they turned to Jinnie and me.
“How do you feel about your brother being in prison? Do you think you will be able to live normal lives after this?”
“Was he always aggressive? Did he ever try to hurt you?”
“Do you feel responsible for what happened?”
A video of Jinnie crying went viral on news platforms all around the country. Everyone claimed ‘he was next’ and that they hoped he wouldn’t ‘further his brother’s murderous legacy.’ They claimed his tears were fake—a ruse to gain sympathy from the town which would ‘never recover from such a harrowing loss.’
I never wanted to read the articles about us, but in the midst of my grief, I had forgotten that I was still a teenager. That I still attended high school with 600 other students who had plenty to say to me about what happened.
For the first two weeks after my brother confessed and the police arrested him, my social media was flooded with messages. Some were nice while others were accusatory. One person even made a deep-fake video of me laughing about my best friend’s death, which led to my expulsion from school. Neither of my parents fought very hard to keep me there. Good thing, too, since I wasn’t keen on staying either.
Jinnie still went, despite our court-appointed psychiatrist’s warning that he should be homeschooled like I now was. Little kids, I found, were much less technological. Instead of violent videos of a cartoon version of Jinnie getting his head chopped off by our older brother, his classmates put worms in his lunchbox, lured him with games only to throw baseballs at his head, and shunned him at recess. Even his best friends from preschool, Jamal and Hunter, stopped speaking to him publically. Their parents were afraid of our family, too.
But occasionally, one of the boys—and if he was really lucky—both of them would ask Jinnie to hang out, and it would lift his spirits. He would ask me for permission, then pick out an outfit, dust off his bike and helmet, then wait patiently for the clock to tell him it was time to go. I never admitted it to anyone, but seeing Jinnie sit impatiently on the sofa while the clock ticked was one of the happiest moments of my life. Ever since what happened, joy was rare in our house. I wanted my little brother to enjoy as much of it as he could when it came.
Watching Jinnie now, I feel like his mother. I want to fix everything for him with the twirl of a magic wand.
There are fresh tears streaking his cheeks as he grumpily rearranges his highlighters again—darkest to lightest this time—and avoids my gaze. I know he wants to apologize. Jinnie hates being mad at anyone, especially me. Especially after what happened. I know it’s because he’s afraid of losing me, like everyone else we’ve lost through months which seem endless.
“Hey, hey,” I encourage, laying my warm hands over his shaking ones. I nudge him to look at me. Plastering on a smile which I hope reads sincere, I joke, “Do you remember that time Hunter wet the bed when you were seven? And Jamal cried?”
“I didn’t cry,” he whispers in return.
“That’s right. You didn’t cry at all.”
“I helped clean up.”
“You did,” I hum, scooting closer to my brother so he knows I’m not upset with him. “You always help people, Jinnie. You’re a good and kind person. Anyone would be lucky to call you their friend. Especially me.”
A smile starts blooming on his lips as he looks up. “Are we really friends?”
“Best friends.”
And for the time being, this appeases my ten-year-old brother enough to focus on his school work. When he turns back to his stationary, he doesn’t rearrange his highlighters. Instead, he pulls out his small sketchbook and picks out his favourite pencil before pressing it to paper.
I use this time to turn on our computer and log into Skype. Mrs. Nguyen will call us in a few minutes, and I don’t want to be late for her arrival. There are already so many dreadful adjectives associated with our family’s name. I don’t want unpunctual to be another.
At exactly 8 AM, Mrs. Nguyen’s name and professional photo lights up my laptop screen. I look towards Jinnie to make sure he’s ready. When he nods his head, I click to answer the call.
“Good morning, Mrs. Nguyen.”
The middle-aged schoolteacher smiles warmly at our dual greeting. Her dark auburn hair is pulled back in a loose bun today, and she’s wearing her reading glasses. She must have had a long night because she almost never wears her glasses unless she absolutely has to. “And good morning to you,” she chirps in her usual voice. As she picks up a cup of coffee to take a sip, she asks us, “Did you both have a good morning?”
“Yes, we did,” I answer for the both of us. Short, direct answers. After a whole year of managing questions from reporters, counselors, teachers, and everyone in between, I had grown to realize the shorter I made my sentences, the easier the lives of others became. No one wants to hear about our grief. No one wants to know that our mother hasn’t left her room in a year or that our father drinks himself to sleep every weekend or that this morning, I got pelted with eggs by the boy I’ve been in love with all my life.
Mrs. Nguyen smiles and asks, “Jinnie, I marked your math test. I’m pleased to announce you received an A.” Jinnie can hardly contain his excitement as he grins and practically vibrates in his chair. “And YN, your essay on the role of censorship in advertising was a marvelous read. You also received an A. I’m very proud of you both for working so hard this term.”
“Thank you!”
“You’re very welcome, Jinnie,” Mrs. Nguyen replies before she reaches for her phone. “I would like to schedule a meeting with your parents to discuss school in September.” She scrolls through her phone for a moment before going, “Jinnie will be entering middle school, and YN—university, I presume?”
“I set up online classes with a certified sixth grade teacher for Jinnie in September,” I answer, feeling my hands shake under the table. Again, I go to grip it to keep myself from tipping over. “But I won’t be attending university.”
“Oh… college then?”
“No. Not college either.”
All of us are silent for a few moments as the significance of my answer dawns on our teacher. As Mrs. Nguyen’s brows furrow in confusion, I brace myself for her upcoming question.
“YN, you are a very smart girl. I can’t imagine that you would be alright with skipping post-secondary education. Have you spoken to your parents about this?”
“Yes,” I gulp, lying straight through my teeth. I’ve gotten very good at it—lying. Among other things. “They’re aware of my decision.”
Mrs. Nguyen sinks back in her seat, as if everything she had planned for this morning just evaporated into thin air. I feel the guilt of such crawl up my neck and begin to choke me in silence. “There are plenty of colleges and universities which offer part-time schooling, my dear. Most of them would be very accommodating to your specific needs.”
“I understand that. I’m just not interested in going to college.”
There is an edge to my seemingly mundane words which appear to slice through Mrs. Nguyen’s good conscience. Where once she deemed herself prepared to argue with me about my future prospects, she now collapses under the weight of our unspoken rule to never argue in front of Jinnie.
“Very well then.”
Though our conversation ends there, my phone screen lights up with an incoming message.
mrs. nguyen: lets talk about your decision later.
For the remainder of the next hour, Mrs. Nguyen teaches Jinnie about Egyptian hieroglyphics. Then the following hour, she tutors me in data management and statistics. While Jinnie continues drawing in the living room, and I begin packing up my belongings after the second hour nears its end, Mrs. Nguyen coughs to catch my attention. I know what’s coming before she even utters any words.
“YN, I know it is difficult due to your parents’ work, but please arrange a time for me to speak to them about the future of your education,” she says, completely unaware that it isn’t their work which keeps them from talking to her. It’s the fact that they don’t even know that she exists. “I understand that your situation is unique, but it does not mean you have to let go of post-secondary education. Most of the professional world still requires a person to at least have a bachelor’s degree—”
“There’s nothing I want to study, so there’s really no need for me to go to university, Mrs. Nguyen.”
Mrs. Nguyen leans into the camera and retorts, “You can enter university with an undeclared major and make your final decision by the end of the first term of your second year. There are options, YN. I don’t want you to close the door on your future.” When I don’t reply immediately, she goes on to tell me, “Graduation is a month away. Although you missed the original post-secondary application date, I have friends at several different universities whom I can write to in your stead. There are options.”
For the rest of the day, Mrs. Nguyen’s words replay in my head like a broken record. Every time I try to busy myself with a task or a chore or even a small hobby—like painting with Jinnie—her advice flies back to me full force and punches me in the gut.
Back before everything happened, I did dream about attending university. My older cousins loved it. Besides the studying and the late nights and the monstrous lack of self-care that goes into obtaining a post-secondary degree, they all used to gush about the parties, and the extracurricular events, and the clubs, and the boys. Most of the men my cousins are married to now were their college boyfriends.
Admittedly, hearing their stories over the years made me curious. I had wanted to attend university. Hyeri said she wanted to study pharmacy, I thought about studying wildlife biology and conservation. I had always loved animals, had always wanted to have a dog or cat or even both. I never gave it too much thought but I imagined that a degree related to animals and nature would be something I would love.
After Daniel went to prison, I stopped dreaming about anything that didn’t have to do with getting out of this town with Jinnie in tow. University didn’t factor very well into that goal, and it still doesn’t.
. . . ❤ . . .
Two days after graduation, which took place online with a guest list of exactly zero, my cousin Eloise shows up at our front door with a purple suitcase and a sunshine smile. My dad has a lot of siblings, seven to be exact, and all of them have between three to five kids each, which has led to ginormous family reunions every couple of years as our family grew up.
Eloise, nearly my twin as she was born only a month before me, was the closest friend I had aside from Hyeryung. The three of us would often go out together when Eloise would visit during the summers. We got along well, the three of us, and it was always terribly sad when Eloise would leave for boarding school at the end of August.
During my brother’s trial, Eloise’s family was the only one who came to support us. Whether it was financial or emotional support, they had plenty of it. The other members of our grand family pretended we weren’t related to them. Many of them even blocked our numbers and social media.
But Eloise was there for me, and right now, she was here with me—standing in our front door, waiting for me to let her in.
“What are you—?”
“Happy graduation, dimwit,” she greets, smiling from ear-to-ear as she cascades past our foyer and into the living room. No one is there, of course. Dad is at work. Mom is in her room. Jinnie is learning how to code in Dad’s old office. I had just turned on the stove to start preparing dinner. “Where is everyone?”
Eloise turns on her heel and says, “Let me guess: Dad’s at work, Mom refuses to come out of her room, and Jinnie is being Jinnie?”
Nodding, I step closer. “Ellie, what are you doing here anyway?”
Eloise’s smile brightens. “Glad you asked! I’m moving to Australia at the end of summer for university, so I thought I’d swing by for a girls’ weekend with you before I head home to my parents.”
The words girls’ weekend sends me into a state of nostalgia. Hyeryung and I would talk about taking a trip together—just the two of us—someday after we both graduated. A trip across the country in her beat up Honda Civic Taehyung helped her buy after she got her license. We planned out all the sights we wanted to see and the restaurants and the diners we wanted to eat at and all the gifts we would buy for our friends and family on the trip back home.
When Hyeryung passed, she took the dream with her, and I hadn’t thought about it since.
“I don’t think—”
“You’re not allowed to say ‘no,’” Eloise cuts in, settling herself down on the sofa. “I’m already here.”
“Ellie, I can’t just—”
Eloise leans across the arm of the sofa and says, “Yes, you can. Your dad doesn’t work on the weekends. He can take care of Jinnie for a night or two.” Suddenly, her smile dims and I know exactly what she’s going to say. “You’re not even going to university. You never do a single thing for yourself anymore, YN. Let’s just… enjoy this weekend together, yeah?”
And that is how I end up standing in the middle of a crowd of strangers the very next night while Eloise beelines for the bar.
There is loud party music thumping throughout the spacious room covered inch-by-inch in dancing, swaying or standing bodies. The atmosphere reeks of alcohol and sweat, and it is everything I expected a club to look like.
Darting my eyes left and right, I cross my arms and try to step towards the bar in search of my cousin who is taking an awfully long time to bring our drinks. Some kind of liquor for her, and a non-alcoholic drink for me. I’ve never had alcohol before and I don’t want to start now.
Eloise is standing by the bar talking to a group of men I don’t recognize but who all look to be in their late twenties. Their starving eyes and lustful gazes continually drop down to Eloise’s outfit and I just know she’s eating up their attention.
“Hey, uh—“ I tap my cousin on the shoulder, and she turns to face me with an irritated expression. Instantly, I feel bad for intruding on her conversation and feel my heartbeat pick up speed. With ears burning red, I almost whisper, “Is it o-okay if I go home?”
“Yeah… I feel kind of sick.”
Eloise rolls her eyes a bit then turns back around to say something to the men. They all glance over at me then nod at her. One of them even leans in to kiss her cheek to which she slaps his chest in what can only be described as characteristically her.
When she turns back around, her irises are dark, and definitely full of disappointment. She looks just like her mother when Aunt Marci finds her kids doing something she forbid, like the time Eloise snuck out during a family dinner to meet her then-boyfriend.
“YN,” my cousin sighs, “what did I say in the cab about letting loose?”
“I’m… loose…” Even as I say it, I cringe. That was not the way to say it. Straightening my shoulders, I argue, “Ellie, this is your scene. Not mine. I don’t like it here.”
“Lots of people don’t like clubs when they first come to them,” she returns, ruffling her black hair so the curls bounce. Eloise has always been beautiful, but under the canopy of the foggy club, she looked extra pretty. I wonder what people think when they see us together. An older sister and her whiny baby sister? The popular girl and the nerd? I hated feeling so inadequate next to my own family, but right now, I feel it full force. Eloise goes on with, “But you get used to it and you have lots of fun. Look, let me order you a drink—“ I open my mouth to protest but she’s already calling for the bartender. “To be honest, I was just going to bring you a bottle of water, but this is better. Now that you’re here, I can show you why everyone loves to drink.” To the bartender, she says, “One Jack and Coke, and a Long Island Iced Tea.”
Are both of those for me?
As I’m wondering this, the bartender drops a small glass of what appears to be Coca-Cola on the table. Eloise uses the tip of her finger to slide it my way, and if not for my quick reflexes, I’m almost one hundred percent certain it would have slid off the bar top.
With anxiety racing through my bloodstream, I shakily raise the glass.
“Drink up, little cousin.”
“I’m not—”
Eloise doesn’t wait for me to finish my sentence before she tips the glass towards my mouth. The ice chimes against the walls of the glass as the crisp liquid flows over my tongue and down my esophagus. Its brumal sting gallops down my throat causing me to blink fast.
Leaning away from the glass, I mumble, “This tastes like coke mixed with something else.”
Eloise chuckles and takes two sips of her iced tea. “What you’re tasting is the whiskey.” Placing her drink down, my cousin tilts her head in mock interest. “Gosh, YN, you’re so weird sometimes. How have you graduated from high school and never had a Jack and Coke?”
“You already know I don’t drink.”
“Oh, I’m well aware. I just didn’t know your social life was so boring. Didn’t you and Hyeri ever—”
I lower my gaze at the same time Eloise’s eyes widen three times their normal size.
The two of us never talked about it, but my best friend’s death was a topic Eloise trekked very quietly. In about everything else in life, my cousin is loud and boisterous. She is the life of the party and the roar of the crowd. But topics like family and death are difficult for her, and she almost never speaks of them.
After Hyeri passed, Eloise stopped bringing her up in conversation completely. If she ever did bring her up, it was with the words, ‘your best friend’ or ‘that girl.’ Never her name. It was almost as if Eloise was petrified of saying it. As if some grand significance stood idle behind our friend’s name and she could not bring herself to utter it out of fear of the unknown.
And so, because I know with absolutely surety that Eloise didn’t intend to say Hyeryung’s name, I answer her question with, “No. We never drank. At least, not together.”
Eloise nods and looks away, occasionally sipping on her iced tea as her own ears blaze.
It must run in the family.
Minutes of silence later, two of the men from earlier return and Eloise doesn’t look my way as she instructs me to call her if I need anything and to ‘stay by the bar if you aren’t going to dance’ before walking away. Then I watch her be whisked off by men who snake up to her like she’s a film star. And honestly, she may as well be with her larger-than-life persona that I never quite grew out of being envious about.
Turning on my heel, I am about to place my Jack and Coke back on the bar top when a deep voice snickers, “You look like you’re having fun.”
The voice of my childhood dreams freezes me in place. Before I can build the courage to raise my head and look to its source, the blatant sarcasm laced with the veins of his tone buries me ten feet under. Dread, and pure, unadulterated mortification staples me to the ground even as he takes two steps closer.
“What?” He asks mockingly. It hurts. Oh God, it hurts so much. “You can’t look at me now that we’re practically strangers?”
“It’s funny,” he drawls, leaning one arm on the bar top. His darkening gaze traces me from the tip of my head to the tip of my green tennis shoes. A gift from him last year. “I didn’t think you would ever have the courage to show up to a place like this. It’s not really your scene, is it, YN?”
The fact that his comment mirrors my earlier argument with Eloise is startling. Although, it shouldn’t be. I grew up with him. He knows a place like this is the furthest from my comfort zone. I just hate that he knows it. I have never fully admitted it to myself, but so much of me wishes any memories he has of me would be erased. I wish we had never been friends. Maybe then, he could be happier never having known me, and I could have lived without the guilt I carry like a phantom limb.
“My c-cousin brought m-me—”
He juts his chin towards my cardigan. “Then maybe she should have told you that most girls don’t dress like that here.” A pause. “Not unless they want to become fresh meat.”
Instinctively, I tighten the cardigan around my body. When my fingers make contact with the cotton, I realize it is the same cardigan I wore that day on my porch with the eggs. Blushing embarrassingly, I mumble, “I’m not fresh meat.”
“To one of the drunk bastards here, you are.”
“W-What do you want, Taehyung?”
At the sound of my question, one of his eyebrows does a slight jump before descending. A smirk starts to play on his lips as he seats himself at the bar. He’s wearing a black zip-up bomber jacket twice his size, and so when he leans across the bar top, it conceals much of his side profile. A disappearing act whenever he wants it.
Tapping spry fingers along the damp, wooden bar, Taehyung hums, “Well for one, I’d like my sister back.” He turns to me with a smile brewed from rage and vindication causing my heart to hammer between flashes of inordinate grief. Of their own accord, my tennis shoes skid back one step, though not quite far enough to miss the remainder of his answer. “But you can’t bring her back, can you? After people die, they’re gone forever. I wish your family had known that before it destroyed mine.”
“Breathe in, breathe out,” she instructed.
I make a face at her. “That’s the dumbest advice ever. I know how to breathe!”
“Just listen will you,” she sighed, rolling her eyes obnoxiously. “It helps with anxiety. Sure, you know how to breathe. But when you’re anxious, it’s like your body forgets what normal functioning is, so you have to help it get back on track.”
“I’m not anxious.”
“You’re literally shaking from head to toe, YN. Just breathe with me, okay, dumbass?” Holding my hands in hers, she counts me through long breaths. “Breathe in, 1, 2, 3… now slowly exhale, 1…2…3…”
Breathing is difficult when I try to focus on it with purpose in the midst of my panic. All at once, whirlwinds of agonizingly lethal pain injects my bloodstream and leaves me both immobile and ready to dash away. Except, in this smoky club where I am a stranger to everyone but two people, places to run to are miniscule in number.
I will myself not to think about it, but when I can’t help it when I do think about the breathing exercises I learned from someone who can no longer teach me anything.
In the minute I stand vibrating in tandem with the thundering EDM music surrounding us, Taehyung has ordered a drink for himself, and over the rim of the thick glass, he slyly asks, “How’s your brother?”
“You can’t tell Tae.”
“Hyeri… why are you hiding this from him?”
“Dani doesn’t want me to tell anyone. Not yet.”
Rolling my eyes in exasperation, I release my arms from their crossed position. “Daniel is an idiot. An idiot I cannot believe you want to be with. Like… ew, he’s my brother.”
“He’s sexy.”
“Never say that in front of me again! Ew, ew, ew!”
“You just don’t see it because he’s your brother. But trust me… he’s….” her eyes mist over, and it’s the first time I’ve seen my best friend look so moved. “I think he’s the one. I really do.”
Droplets of cold sweat burn the back of my neck as they transcend the path downwards and split in the middle of my spine. The experience is ordinary. Perhaps, more ordinary than breathing has been for the past year. My body and all its corners have learned the art of showcasing my inner trauma in ways which I am still growing accustomed to.
The sweat clouding my back feels like rain in the middle of this putrid club. On any patch of Earth, rain gives life. On me, this rain of sweat fuels my immeasurable anguish—both for the situation and the questions I know Taehyung doesn’t really want me to answer.
He asks them to taunt me—nothing else. Lately, he has learned to become quite good at doing so.
“I’m sorry,” I murmur, throwing the apology his way despite knowing that over the thud, thud, thud of the musical bass, it may go unheard. Taehyung doesn’t look at me as he takes another sip of his drink, finishing it all this time. I swallow and try again, despite my nerves begging me to stop. “I-I’m sorry, Taehyung, I—”
His eyes are menacing as he glares me down. “When I look at you, YN, there is only one thing which goes through my mind, and do you want to know what that is?”
Wobbly lips whisper, “What?”
“That I wish it had been you.”
“I think he likes you~”
“Hyeri, stop. No, he doesn’t.”
Hyeri smirks and crosses her arms. “Then why did he specifically ask me to invite you? He even made a card for you.” She pushes a small, white card with the words ‘To YN’ my way. “Do you know how many other girls he made a card for?” Staying quiet has the desired effect because my best friend giggles, “Zero. He only made this card for you.”
“Then… why didn’t he give it to me himself?”
Hyeri shrugs. “Probably because he’s too chicken. And also because he’s dumb and forgot to give it to you earlier. But the tournament is tomorrow and he really wants you to come. You’re going to come, right?”
“Good,” my best friend grins. “He’ll be so happy to see you on the bleachers.”
His admission punches my gut.
The sound of the EDM music echoes in my ears, as if suddenly further away than it originally was. Though I stand directly in front of him, Taehyung seems to vanish right before my eyes. In his place stands the imaginative illustration of his words and my guilt in combination of a thought I have wished to be real over and over again.
If only it was me.
If I had died instead of Hyeryung, then she and Taehyung could have moved on somehow. They would have had each other, the siblings who some thought were twins based on the closeness of their age and adoring friendship. If it had been me, they would have been able to mourn my loss then continue living because they had a rope in each other to hold on to.
It has been a year and never have I been this way for Taehyung: not during the trial, when my loyalties to my own family froze me to their side; not during the funeral, when I was removed from the venue before I could even see what picture of my best friend they chose for the service; and especially not after, when no one had heard from Taehyung in months and when he did come home eventually, almost no one recognized the man who returned—scruffy hair, exhausted eyes, and limbs so skinny that his jeans were inches from falling off his body at any moment.
As tears spring to my eyes, I don’t wipe at them. They pad down my cheeks, and I whisper, “I’m sorry, Taehyung. I wish it had been me, t-too.”
Taehyung’s gaze traces my tear-stained expression. Despite the room we are in, I feel alone with him now. In this moment, it feels like it’s just the two of us here and every single thing we do will not go unseen by the other. I feel stark naked, and I don’t like it. I hate feeling this way around him when everything I used to feel with him was the exact opposite.
Sensations heightened and heart hammering, I swallow around something thick weighing down my throat. He is staring at me, silent, even as a giggling, much-too-drunk girl bumps into his side and stays there. And so for a split second, Taehyung’s eyes dart to her salaciously stretching her hand over his chest.
Leaning her weight against him, she asks, “Wanna dance with me?”
And as if he has done it a million times before, Taehyung wraps a hand around her wrist and tears it off his chest. The gruff motion seems to startle the strange girl into sobriety, and as she blinks fogginess away, he grumbles, “No, I don’t want to dance with you.”
The girl is smart enough not to start an argument. With her tail between her legs and an embarrassed flush rises high on her angled cheeks, she throws a glance between me and him before running away. The clicking of her heels feels like pinches in my skin as it travels farther and farther away. And when I dare to look at Taehyung again, I almost wish she would come back.
Over the past year, Taehyung has been scarce around town. For one, he had just started university when the news of Hyeryung’s death reached him. Then, after her funeral, he went missing for months. Word in the neighbourhood was that he went to Scotland to see his uncle. Another group of friends said he went to New York to sell his photography. I couldn’t ask around to see which of the floating rumours was actually true.
I remember what Taehyung looked like before his sister died. I wish I didn’t, but I remember it all too well. Like a memory burned to the back of my mind.
Taehyung had a growth spurt sometime during the end of his junior year of high school. He, Hyeryung, and I went back-to-school shopping together and his mother had to buy him three new pairs of jeans because none of his old ones fit him anymore. By then, his style had changed from ‘anime fanatic’ to ‘rich art student,’ too, and so his mother shelled out over two hundred dollars on new shirts and shoes, as well. And so by the time the three of us started school again, Taehyung was suddenly a part of the popular crowd. They opened their arms to him so quickly that it gave me whiplash because I could remember only a few months before when none of them wanted to be seated close to us. We were a small school in an even smaller town, and it was difficult to join new friend groups once they had been established. But Taehyung was different and I knew it.
Hyeri called him a traitor for joining the popular crowd, but I didn’t agree. It’s not like Taehyung forgot about us. His priorities were just different now, and we had to adjust to it. I never told Hyeri, but I liked watching Taehyung bloom into the extroverted, confident, and handsome man he was becoming. It was like watching the smallest star in the galaxy learn to shine brighter than it used to.
I still feel this way, though it is quieter now. It has to be. The circumstances have forced me to be, and once again, I have learned to adjust.
“You’re pathetic,” he seethes, eyes the colour of murky water after midnight. Every word from his lips is a laceration, and a targeted whip against my heart. I am shaking beyond measure, and by now, I am too far from the table to grip it. The man in front of me keeps going. “I wish we had never met you. All you and your family ever did was bring misery into our lives. I wish my sister had been smart enough to see that.” He takes two steps closer. I don’t do the noble thing and move back. It’s like I’m glued in place with nowhere to go. “And you know what? I resent her for that, too. Maybe if she had been smart, she would have seen you for the monster you have always been.”
Taehyung does not cry.
I have known him all his life and not once has he ever cried in front of me. But tonight, he does.
Just like mine sprung with tears minutes ago, his beautiful brown eyes fill with droplets of woe, and suddenly, we are mirrored halves of grief. After a year of mourning apart, we are standing on the same foot path of heartache. Alone, but together.
I would give up anything in the world for you to not be sad anymore.
As Taehyung begins to blink his tears away, I finally take a step forward. My hand, trembling and afraid, reaches up for his face as if it is separate from my mind, screaming at me to stop. Affliction rises from a corner of my heart and rushes down to pool in my stomach. I push past that, too, and touch his face despite everything fighting against me to not do so.
Taehyung doesn’t move back. Not like I expect him to. Slowly, his eyes meet mine in the overcast of the hazy room.
The last time I was this close to him, he had kissed me. It is not a memory I think of with fondness any more. I didn’t think it was fair. What right did I have to dream about a boy whose life I had destroyed? What right did I have to love him?
I tell myself I don’t, that I never did, as I use the pad of my thumb to dust the tears off his warm cheeks. He is stiff, as I expected him to be, but two swipes later, he softens. Perhaps no one else in the raucous club would have noticed it, but I do. I feel it wash over my skin, shuddering and more illuminating than any strobe of colourful lighting around us.
Taehyung traces me with his eyes again, studying my face.
I wonder what he sees. He says I’m a monster, and I can believe myself to be. Is that what he’s seeing? A monster who should have replaced the death of a sister he loved more than anyone else in the world. What colour is this monster? Is she red like the devil? Does she have horns and claws? What love is she capable of if all she does is hurt others?
It is unkind of me, but I selfishly desire for this moment between us to last a while longer when it starts to fizzle. He reads something in my eyes and it seems to wash away the mistiness inside his mind. And then, just like he did the girl before me, Taehyung wraps his long fingers around my wrist and pushes me away.
He does not say a word to me when he walks around my figure and heads into the crowd. Watching him leave splits my heart open. I shift closer to the bar and fall against it, gripping whatever piece of wood I can touch. In seconds, I am soaked with tears all over again.
“Oh, YN…”
Wiping my eyes with the back of my hand, I shake my head and push through the pain as much as I can, smiling as I go. “It’s okay. Really, I’m fine.”
Hyeri immediately hugs me to her and grumbles, “I don’t know what happened. He made that card for you and he asked me if you were going to come. I don’t know why he would kiss her—”
“I think it was a mistake… me coming here. I’m—I’m gonna go.”
As I pull out of her arms, trying to sniffle less than I was a few moments ago, Hyeri asks, “Do you want me to beat him up for you?”
Her lips push into a pout. “Tae is an idiot. You’re way better than her. Smarter and prettier and far more talented.”
“She’s literally a cheerleader and she got into a pre-med program at SNU.”
“So what?”
“He’s just confused. He’s my brother, and I know he likes you. I don’t know what went wrong, but I’m going to fix this. Okay? I’m going to make him—“
“No!” Grabbing her arm, I stop all of Hyeri’s rapid, fiery movements and force her look at me. “It was just a crush. It’s not like I’m in love with him. He should be with the girl he likes, and it’s okay if that girl isn’t me. So don’t worry about it.” I bump my shoulder with hers. “Now that you’re going out with Dani, at least I know there’s a chance we’re still going to be family someday.”
“We already are,” she grins, and wraps her pinky around mine. Her fingers were always smaller than my own, and it was something her brother and I would tease her about all the time. “We’re sisters. Forever and always.”
. . . ❤ . . .
I like driving into the city.
Back when I was still on my learner’s permit, my mother had to drive everywhere with me. And by everywhere, I mean she made me drive to the grocery store or the town mall while she sat in the driver’s seat going over her various shopping lists. My mother loved lists. She could rarely function well without them. I learned how to create a list for ‘getting ready for school’ before I turned five years old. It was instilled in my brain that ‘living is only done right by those who organize their lives.’ My mother was a perfectionist, and strived for me to be the same.
I started driving alone a year ago, after I passed my second road test. It happened only a week before Hyeryung went missing. Back then, when I was cruising down the empty road behind my neighbourhood listening to Brighten at the perfect volume, I never could have imagined what a few days into the future would look like. No one could have.
There aren’t many people around at this time of day. After all, it’s 7 AM on a Sunday. Everyone is sleeping in or just getting ready to sleep in following a night of Netflix binging or video gaming. I went to bed early last night to avoid doing the same as I had grown prone to lately. With not much to do now that school is out and I am officially a graduate, I spent the past week watching a lot of television despite how it strained my eyes and gave me headache after headache.
As I pull into the parking lot of the town sports shop, I notice Kevin, the store manager, unlocking the front door. I quickly locate a parking spot then kill the ignition. I have exactly twenty minutes before the shop opens for business, which means I need to get to Kevin right away.
I pull down the driving mirror and check my face.
Eyebrows are fine.
Eye bags hidden by drugstore concealer.
My skin is a bit saggy, but that’s okay. No one will really notice.
My lips are—
I quickly apply lip tint then sigh against the driver’s seat. I’m already worn out from stress and I haven’t even gone in there yet. I think my brain knows how scary and exhausting the trek is going to be so it’s decided to keep me from trying my luck. If only I was willing to abide.
No one in my family knows that I’m here.
I wanted to tell Jinnie, but thought better of it since he’s prone to overthinking. He might have tried to talk me out of it. Dad was asleep when I left, and Mom was talking to her sister on the phone. At least, I think she was. I heard the words ‘I want to die’ a few times and she only ever says that to Aunt Yura. She said it to me once, but I think I cried too much afterwards for her to try it again. It’s messy—dealing with someone else’s emotions when your own are so amply charged. My mother transformed into a shell of the person she once was after they took my brother away in handcuffs. Over the months in trial, and between prison visits and being harassed by the town, bits and parts of my mother began chipping away until all she was left with was something unrecognizable—to us and to herself.
Kevin is fixing an arrangement of hockey sticks near the back of the shop when I walk in. He doesn’t turn around as I expect him to, which leaves me standing awkwardly between the doorway and the register, wondering if I should call attention to myself before he realizes I’m there.
“We’re not open just yet—”
Swallowing, I go, “H-Hi.”
Kevin is taller than a lot of men in our town. At six feet four inches, he towers over a great deal of the male population of Butterpond. There is a big picture of him and his basketball teammates hanging on the wall outside of the gymnasium of the local high school, and if you ever eavesdropped on a group of boys standing by it, one of them was bound to claim he would be just as tall as Kevin someday and join the NBA.
Daniel and Kevin graduated together. They were best friends once. The two of them were ‘two peas in a pod;’ consistently side-by-side growing up. Good thing, too, and perhaps only natural, since our father and Kevin’s were also best friends since childhood.
When Hyeryung’s body was found in the backseat of Kevin’s Mazda, no one knew what to think. The best friend? It was a story which ran for exactly six hours before Daniel turned himself in, unbeknownst to our family. My mother cried a lot that day, and so did Jinnie and I. Dad was a rock—his go-to emotion of choice. I can’t say much has changed since then.
Kevin never said a word about what happened the night they found Hyeryung in his car. Not to his lawyer, not to his family, not to us, and especially not to any reporter. An out-of-town podcaster running a true crime podcast reached out to him a week after they buried Hyeryung, and despite how much money they offered for Kevin’s story, he stayed mute. Whether it was because he was hiding something or because of his loyalty to my brother, no one knows.
And as I stand here, in Kevin’s shop a year after the last time I saw him, I wonder how many secrets Kevin still keeps.
I do my best to ignore the pang in my chest upon hearing the surprise in his tone as I take two steps forward. Kevin’s light brown eyes follow my footwork until I am standing less than a metre away from him. I can only imagine what I look like to him in this moment.
Growing up, Kevin would often refer to Jinnie and I as his siblings, too, due entirely to the fact that he spent enough time at our house to warrant it. It was fun having Kevin around. He and Daniel would play video games together or show us scary movies which we later had to lie to our parents about, and on the odd weekend, they would let us join them for fun activities, too.
I missed Kevin all these months because even though I had never said it out loud, I thought of Kevin as my big brother, too.
“How have you been?”
Kevin moves towards me with one step in my direction but then stops, like he’s afraid of the closeness. In a quiet voice, he replies, “I’m fine… what are you doing here?”
There is no one else inside the shop, but it feels like I’m being watched by a hundred people when I reach inside my tote bag for my resume. I hold it out for Kevin’s uncertain hands. “I want to work here.”
Kevin’s eyes snap up. “What?”
“You’re hiring, aren’t you?”
“Well, yes, but—”
“I saw your job posting at the grocery store over the weekend,” I add in before he can talk me out of my request. “You need someone to work in the back of the shop.”
The hand holding my resume falls limply to his side, effectively sending my heart into overdrive. Please, please don’t say no. I need this. “YN, I can’t—” A sigh escapes him as he places my resume atop a nearby box. “I can’t hire you for that job, YN. Please look somewhere else.”
“But… why?”
“I just can’t.”
When Kevin turns around, I know exactly what he’s about to do. As someone who does it quite often, it is easy enough to note the signs on another person—Kevin is going to walk away and hope I take a hint to do the same.
But I won’t.
Because I need this job.
Besides the fact that this may be the only place in town where I can still walk in without covering my face with a mask or a hoodie, this is also the only place which receives less than a few customers a day, meaning I don’t have to face anyone who would spit on me without thinking twice. I can lie to myself all I want, but I’m not as strong as I thought I would be when my father said you’re the oldest now after they took Daniel away for the last time.
“Kevin.” Saying his name rings a bell inside my heart, somewhere deep and lonely. Perhaps it is because I haven’t said it for months and months. Or maybe, it’s because of the way he turns back around with pained eyes I’m nowhere used to seeing on him. My words are wobbly as they murmur, “Please, Kev. You’re the only one who—”
The sound of a heavy door bursting open tears us away from the disagreement. The back door of the sports shop swings open to reveal a familiar bed of brown curls, and sun kissed skin. His skin shimmers where the short sleeves of his white Calvin Klein shirt don’t reach, exposed biceps curling to accompany the grip his hands have on a small box he carries in.
Taehyung does not notice me at all, and says to Kevin, “Diego dropped these off. Should I put it next to the baseball gear?” And then he does notice me and with the way his eyes darken, I wish I had taken the initiative to hide when he was unaware of my presence.
“YN was just leaving—”
“No, I’m not leaving.” The tone and finality of my voice scares even me as I stand my ground before the older man. Though my hands shake a bit, I argue, “You can’t d-discriminate against me for this job.”
Kevin’s shoulder slump into a position which tells me he has lost, at least a little bit. Sighing to himself, he tells Taehyung, “Put it down by the baseball gear. I’ll take a look at it later.” To me, Kevin asks, “Can you lift more than 50 kilograms?” But before I can reply, he shakes his head and says, “I know you can’t, so just… just be careful, YN. Please.”
I hold my breath until Kevin walks off, heading for Taehyung who won’t stop staring at me. I turn around and squat to untie my shoelaces just to re-tie them. Anything to get him to stop gazing my way. I used to dream about the day when Taehyung wouldn’t be able to stop himself from looking at me, but now that the day is here, all I want is to go back to the way things used to be.
In more ways than one.
“Hyeri… don’t be mad…”
My best friend blinks up at me, probably thankful for the minute-long holiday from her sixth grade math homework. “What’s up?”
“I think I like—” I squeeze a sofa cushion closer to my face as a fierce blush blossoms over my cheeks. “IlikeTaehyung.”
Hyeryung tears the cushion off. “Say it again. I couldn’t hear you.”
With a sharp inhale, I whisper, “I like Taehyung.”
Hyeri’s shoulders drop. Her face is expressionless. “My brother, Taehyung?”
Suddenly, Hyeryung’s face breaks out into the biggest grin I’ve ever seen on her. She looks like she could explode from joy. It makes my heart grow calmer. “YN! What?! Really?! Do you really like Tae?!”
“This is so perfect!”
“Of course it is! My two best friends liking each other! What could be more perfect than that!”
“I don’t think Tae likes me, though…” I start playing with a loose string, twisting it around my forefinger. “He doesn’t even notice me. He just plays soccer or guitar all day.”
Hyeryung smirks. “Sure he does. He asked me what he should get you for your birthday.”
My brows pull together as confusion floods through me. “But my birthday is seven months away.”
. . . ❤ . . .
Everything in my chest twists and burns as I reach down for the first box of men’s winter jackets.
There are approximately four boxes of unsold menswear from the winter season which never sold out. Kevin asked me to tape them up and place them in the back, behind all the new summer items like flip-flops and sun tan lotion. I hadn’t expected the task to be so daunting. After only a few minutes of heavy lifting, my arms hurt so much that I’m afraid they may never regain proper mobility.
The pain makes me realization I am not cut out for this job despite how much I wanted it last week. But when I compare this pain to the one of feeling stuck in this little town, I ignore my body’s cries and keep pushing.
Kevin isn’t around a lot, preferring to work in his little office where no voices can be heard coming out. But everywhere I turn, Taehyung is there. He mans the register six out of the eight hours we work, and when he isn’t doing that, he strolls around the shop fixing and rearranging items on shelves that look as though they have not been touched since they were placed there.
Most of my time at the shop is spent trying to pretend I don’t notice him. But in trying not to notice him, I only end up noticing him more. Like the way he stands by the water dispenser for minutes at a time, drinking out of the small, paper cups until they get soggy instead of using a bottle. Or how he makes funny faces at himself in the store window whenever he’s bored (he’s very good at doing a horrible Joker impression. Or that he calls his grandmother every other day to check up on her, and uses the gentlest voice in order to do so. Or the fact that he pretends I don’t exist even if I walk right past him.
I know the right thing to do is to feel thankful, but I don’t. I just feel hurt, and upset, and alone. Which, considering the circumstances, is not only disrespectful to his sister’s memory, but agonizingly inhumane on my part. I’m making everything about us, when it isn’t, and that’s why, after a week of working away at Kevin’s little sports shop, I think about quitting every few hours. I feel selfish in believing I shouldn’t for the sake of Jinnie and me.
A knock sounds at the door as I’m lifting the very last box onto a sturdy shelf. My chest heaves once I lodge it up there with the rest of the boxes which will hopefully stay put until the next time Kevin decides to bring them out.
I move to the door as another knock flitters past, and before I decide to take a seat on the dirty floor of the backroom. My fingers are numb as they twist the door handle and reveal an expressionless Kevin standing behind it. He keeps his gaze locked on a spot behind me as he speaks, and yet again, I feel out-of-place.
“It’s lunch time,” he murmurs in a voice which tells me he wishes he didn’t have to speak to me at all. And I end up hating myself a little more for putting him in such a position. “Go and take a break.”
Giving him a simple nod, I watch Kevin walk away, probably to inform Taehyung of the same thing. Movement by the front door tells me that Kevin is locking up for the next hour, as is customary for lunch. I go to the small lockers where I keep my things and pull out my lunch bag. It swings from my fingers as I move to the back door, using all my strength to push it open.
Outside, the early July sun waves hello as I find my spot closest to the door. Then, I reach inside my lunch bag and pull out an old bed sheet with the Power Rangers on it that Jinnie used to sleep on. Laying it on the gravel, I push down the ends as much as I can then take a seat in a criss-cross position.
For lunch today, I packed some of last night’s leftovers: a glass noodle stir-fry I learned how to make off a TikTok recipe. Dad pretended to like it for the sake of me being his daughter, Mom hardly touched hers, while Jinnie asked for chicken nuggets instead. I didn’t think the noodles were too bad, but if I could choose between this lunch and a Big Mac, I know which one I’d pick in a heartbeat.
I swirl the noodles around with my chopsticks as a group of ants slowly trek their way up and onto my makeshift picnic blanket. They must have smelt the food and announced it to their troop.
Smilingly, I reach inside my Tupperware of noodles and locate a slice of beef then lay it on the cloth. Almost instantly, they all jump for the meat and take it away with them. I do this a few more times until all that’s left in my lunchbox are a few strings of noodles that look even less appetizing than before. So I cover it up and set it aside, then reach for a cosmic brownie I promised myself I wouldn’t eat but can’t help myself to now when my stomach grumbles out of hunger.
I’m nearing the end of the exceptionally delicious brownie when the door swings open, nearly slapping me in the face. Okay, bad lunch spot. Further away from the door next time, YN.
“What are you doing…?” It’s Taehyung, and he’s staring at me like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. I lower my head out of instinct. He must notice my set up because his next question is, “You eat lunch out here?”
I nod so I don’t have to verbally reply, and also so that I don’t actually have to lift my head and talk.
“I thought you went to McDonald’s or something…” I’m silent as well unmoving in the hope that maybe he will walk back inside without questioning me further. But that’s not the case when he goes on to ask, “Why don’t you eat in the staff room?” The staff room he’s referring to is the small room next to Kevin’s office and the bathroom. It has exactly one table with two seats, a mini microwave, a kettle, and a box of napkins. I would be both stupid and heartless (perhaps more than I already am) if I sat myself in that room next to Taehyung in silence while we ate our lunch.
But now, Taehyung is waiting for an answer I don’t want to give him, but one which I have to. “I didn’t… um… I didn’t want to bother you…”
“By eating your lunch?” I stay quiet again, and I can almost hear him rolling his eyes. “It’s not like I care where you eat your lunch, but just eat in the staff room from now on. I don’t want to be held responsible for you bringing bugs into the shop.”
I know that he knows his argument is weak, and that it’s just his inherent goodness talking, so I nod and agree. Taehyung doesn’t stay outside for much longer after that. I don’t know what he came out here for, and he never shows me. After he leaves, I wait a few minutes before heading inside and to the lockers.
Kevin is waking up from his short nap and as he passes me by, he tells me to finish logging all the winter boxes into the system. It’s one of the various tasks I have to deal with, and in my opinion, probably the most difficult. I know next to nothing about Excel spreadsheets, but Kevin doesn’t know that so he’s never tutored me on it. Most of the time, I turn to Youtube or Google to help me figure it out. Now if only the physical labour was as simple.
The shop has been pretty empty today. Most days are like this considering the fact that summer only just started and a lot of the town folk go on vacation during this time. Kevin tells me that the shop doesn’t see an increase in sales until at least late July, when the vacationers return and their kids start asking for new shoes or sports gear.
As I’m finishing up the winter log, the front door chimes, announcing the arrival of a customer. When I take a peek outside, from where my door was left ajar, I notice Mrs. Bloom and her son, Cody, walk in.
Mrs. Bloom is the wife of the town’s grocery store owner, Mr. Bloom of Blooming Butterpond. Everyone who lives in our town gets their groceries from them. Their prices are reasonable, and their customer service is alright, but I still know a lot of people who order their spices online. The Blooms are one of the richest families in town and anyone who is anyone knows who they are. Mrs. Bloom is especially popular. She is friends with nearly all the women in town, young and old. Back before Daniel’s arrest, she used to be friends with my mother, too. She would come around for afternoon tea sometimes or invite our family to picnics by the lake. Daniel and her older son, Brandon, knew each other from football, too, though they were separated by a three year age gap.
Mrs. Bloom stopped calling and visiting our house first. After she did, all the other women in town followed. One by one, they all cut our family off—terrified for their own sons and daughters.
I haven’t seen nor heard Mrs. Bloom’s voice since last winter, when she gave the local news station a personal account of my brother’s violent upbringing. Not that she was even a part of it. Daniel wasn’t even born in Butterpond, but on the other side of the country while our parents were on vacation.
“Taehyung, honey, hello,” Mrs. Bloom’s voice chirps. It is cheery and full of delight, and everything which screams I come from a lot of money. “How have you been, sweetheart? I haven’t seen you around these days. Are you eating well? How’s your family?”
Taehyung’s voice is less bubbly. “It’s nice to see you again, Mrs. Bloom. I’m fine and so are my parents.” I peek my head our further to watch him smile at Cody, a boy only a few months younger than my baby brother. “Hey, Cody. How’s soccer going?”
“I made captain!”
“No way! High five!” Cody jumps high to slap his palm against Taehyung’s. The boy I haven’t seen smile all week is nothing but in front of the customers.
Mrs. Bloom ruffles her son’s hair and grins at Taehyung with pearly white teeth. “We came here to get Cody some new running shoes and grab Brandon’s new football gear. Can you help us out today?”
“Of course. Please, follow me.”
As Taehyung leads them to the section of the shop where we keep kids’ running shoes, I slowly back away from the door and shut it behind me. Knowing myself, I’ll keep listening just to give myself something to do now that I’ve completed the winter log. And knowing Mrs. Bloom, my employment here will become the talk of the town if she sees me.
For the next few minutes, I busy myself with the physical inventory list Kevin keeps by the door. Flip-flops, swim trunks, swimsuits, sun-tan lotion, sunscreen, surf boards… After a minute or so of reading, the words seem to pile together until they may as well have been written in a foreign language. When my eyes begin to blur with the strained ill movement of my eyes, I look away, blinking furiously.
That’s when I hear two taps at the door—Taehyung’s knock.
I slowly pull it open to reveal Taehyung standing there, as expressionless as Kevin was a few hours ago.
“Uh… yeah?”
Taehyung holds up a yellow Post-It note sprawled with his messy handwriting. “I need these Nikes in size 7.” Then he pushes the paper my way before I can ask him to hold on while I go and find it.
The Nikes Cody wants are a limited edition pair of running shoes which came out only a month ago. I read about their stock number in the shop on my first day working here since Kevin wanted me to be well-aware of which shoes would be likely to sell out first and where to quickly locate them. The only thing is… Mrs. Bloom and her son are the first customers to come asking for them since I started my job, and I’ve long since forgotten what I learned last week about running shoes.
I walk through the men’s shoe aisle, scanning the boxes as quickly as possible while flipping through the inventory list just as fast.
“Level 2, Box 2C…”
Level 2 is high enough for me to need a ladder, which I pull to my side from the very end of the aisle. The ladder is shaky as I ground my foot onto the first step, careful to hold onto something so that I don’t fall off-balance. It takes me a few tries to control my breathing as I stand on top of the ladder, but eventually I’m able to find the box I’m looking for and reach inside it. The shoe box is wrapped with a thick film of bubble wrap, which I manage to tear off as soon as I’m back on solid ground.
Taking a deep breath, I squeeze my fingers to pump some energy back inside me before pulling the door open. Much to my surprise, Taehyung isn’t there like I expected him to be. With confusion growing in the pit of my stomach, I glance around several times to see if maybe he was scrolling through his phone close by, but he isn’t. He isn’t there at all.
I don’t know what I’m doing when I slowly walk out of the back room and towards the main part of the shop where anyone could see me. Usually, I never walk out when we have customers. I know Kevin has never said it, but his eyes on the day he gave me this job was enough to tell me that I wasn’t really allowed out here at all. His shop has been in the family for decades. I can’t allow my family’s reputation to destroy it.
Yet here I am, walking forward with my gut twisting the way my chest was earlier this morning. And when my eyes fall upon the scene I walk up to, the biting sensation strengthens so tight around my ribcage that it is a wonder I am still breathing.
Mrs. Bloom appears to be talking on the phone a little ways away, while Taehyung bounces a soccer ball on his knee, seemingly to show Cody how to do it. Cody is smiling and giggling cutely at the way Taehyung appears to mimic real soccer stars. I probably shouldn’t think much of it except that I do. Because this small blip in time marches in tandem with the days Jinnie would stare up at Taehyung with all the love in the world pouring from his sparkly eyes.
“Tae, I don’t think Jinnie will be any good at soccer,” I whisper to the brown haired boy. I feel bad for saying it, but Jinnie hasn’t always been the greatest at sports. That was more Daniel’s forte. But these days, Jinnie was missing our older while he went to visit colleges with our Dad, and he wanted to impress him when Daniel returned. “He can’t even throw a ball.”
Taehyung grins towards Jinnie. “Good thing that soccer balls aren’t meant to be thrown.”
I was right in the end—soccer was not Jinnie’s strong suit. But Taehyung was against my ‘poor spirits’ as he called it. He wanted to show Jinnie that it was perfectly possible for anyone to learn how to play soccer, even if it took some people longer to learn than others. And the thing is, Taehyung did show Jinnie exactly what he set out to do. Over and over again, Hyeri and I would be hanging out after school, studying for an upcoming test or painting our nails pretty in pink, and Taehyung would come by looking to hang out with my baby brother. Jinnie loved it. He started calling Taehyung his big brother, too, and Taehyung wore the badge like an honour.
I’m sniffling back tears before I even realize they’re falling while the shoe box shakes in my hands uncontrollably. That’s when Taehyung glances my way, and immediately stops what he’s doing to walk over to me.
“Are you—”
“YN YLN, is that you?” Mrs. Bloom slides past a befuddled Cody and straight up to me, bypassing Taehyung who blinks at her aggressive stance. Mrs. Bloom is a woman much taller than I am, and when she stands so close, I feel cornered in, like a mouse with nowhere to run. I try to meet her fiery eyes, but am unable to when she starts speaking again. “What are you doing here?” To Taehyung, she incredulously wonders, “Taehyung, honey, don’t tell me you work with her?”
“Ma’am, I—”
Mrs. Bloom snaps her gaze to mine. “I’m not speaking to you, YN, now am I? I’m speaking to this poor boy whom you’re troubling with your presence.” Her eyes narrow as they take me in. “The audacity! Do you lack a conscience, YN? A heart? Is your family a pack of wolves?!”
With each word her burgundy painted lips spit my way, my heart crowds in on itself. It’s hard to breathe, and I can feel something thundering inside my chest, willing me to fall to the ground in foetal position until everything around me goes away. It may work out well for her, too, since she’d have plenty of small tidbits to sprinkle her story with for the other town folk to listen to.
Though before I can move out of her atmosphere, Taehyung steps forward, and effectively shifts Mrs. Bloom’s attention to himself.
“Mrs. Bloom, let me ring you up,” he suggests with a slight wobble to his voice. His eyes are indecipherable as he looks her way. “I can offer you a 15% summer discount on the shoes.”
As he does so, I use the back of my hand to push away my tears and square my shoulders. This is not the worst thing you have ever been through, I remind myself as I start walking back to the inventory room. I can still hear the chattering of Mrs. Bloom and Taehyung at the register when I touch the doorknob. Then, as I start to pull it open, I hear Taehyung call my name.
He’s right behind me wearing an uncertain expression. It’s one I can fully read this time, and it sets my gut aflame.
“Mrs. Bloom, she…” he raises his arm to rub the back of his neck, both awkward and unsure. “She wants you to carry Brandon’s football gear to her car.”
I do my best to ignore the way my chest tightens again. My still-damp eyes swim to the front door where Mrs. Bloom stands waiting for me, one hand on her hip and frown evident even from afar. Gathering my strength, I nod at Taehyung then move towards the older woman who huffs as I reach down to pick up the box. Just like all the boxes have been today, this one is heavy, too, and I struggle to hold it up. My weak arms shake with the intensity of the weight as I walk through the door, noticing Taehyung trail behind me and up to the register.
Mrs. Bloom’s car is parked right outside the shop. It’s a silver Hyundai Palisade with a personalized licence plate which brokenly spells out her first name. As I stand there on the concrete waiting for directions about what to do with the box, Mrs. Bloom helps Cody with his seat belt. I shift on my feet as I wait, trying to imagine what worlds are inside this box which make it so hefty while she finishes up. Afterwards, she flips open the trunk then stands behind me as I try to place the box inside. Except, there’s no space since the entire trunk is filled with groceries.
Awkwardly, I stutter, “M-Mrs. Bloom, w-what should I do with the, um… with the groceries?”
“Move them, obviously.”
I don’t argue with her and start moving the plastic bags around. Her gaze is hawk-like as she watches my timid movements shuffling vegetables and produce aside to make space for the sports equipment. Eventually, I find enough space to fit the box and load it in. Then before I can move my hand away rapidly enough, Mrs. Bloom nearly closes the trunk on them.
With my heart pulsing a mile a second, I’m stupid enough to think this is all she will do when I take a step back and she turns around. In a split moment, her full hand comes flying my way, striking my right cheek.
Splintering agony explodes behind my eyelids and throughout the expanse of my brain, causing my eyes to squeeze shut involuntarily. My nose makes a weird sort of sound as Mrs. Bloom’s hand moves back, and she snickers.
“Your family will pay with hell for what they did to poor Hyeryung and the Kims,” she spits while I use my utmost power to stop my shaking hands from reaching for my face, lest I show her disrespect. “I don’t know where you found the nerve to work here, but rest assured that one of these days, someone will come along to put you in place!”
I don’t get to say anything to her as she huffs one last time before climbing into her car and driving away.
The walk back to the shop is harder than I imagined it would be. With my stinging cheek and my shaking limbs, it’s difficult to ground myself in the reality I’m living. But then I think about Taehyung behind the register, and how I don’t want him to see me like this. I start rubbing both my cheeks as I near the door and by the time I’m grabbing the handle to open it, I hope against hope that Taehyung will not question me.
Then my hope breaks when he does.
“YN…” His quiet voice is a thousand sad songs bursting through to my veins simultaneously. I know he saw everything. “Are you… okay?”
“You should have—” Taehyung cuts himself off. Should have… what? Stood up for himself against her accusations which you and the rest of the town share? “Go take a break or… something. I’ll let Kevin know—”
“No, I’m fine.”
I lock eyes with him. “I’m fine, Taehyung. There’s no need for you to worry about me. I can handle myself.”
And with that, I walk off to the washroom before he gains anymore courage to destroy me with words which hurt lightyears more than his silence.
“Tae, I’m fine—”
Taehyung gently blows on the scratch against my leg where I fell of his new bike.
I had been wanting to ride it all week and he had finally giving me the chance to do so, only to have me fall off barely a minute into riding. Now the two of us were sitting on the end of a sidewalk, while I tried to hold back tears as the pain from my small wound tore away at my nine year old heart.
“I’m sorry, YN,” Taehyung whispers as tears pebble along his waterline. He stares up at me worriedly. “I should have held onto you longer. I didn’t know you were going to fall off like that.”
I smile to comfort him in the place of my hand which was too afraid to touch him just yet. “If I’m with you, I don’t care about falling.”
. . . ❤ . . .
My car won’t start.
It is well into mid-July now and the nighttime air feels muddier than the crisp air our town experiences the remainder of the year. It’s obnoxiously hot, and despite the air conditioning I was stationed next to for the past eight and a half hours, it feels like pure torture to be fighting with my car’s engine out in the parking lot where Kevin’s car is missing.
Kevin and Daniel used to work on my car all the time. Well, back then it was Daniel’s car and he adored taking care of it as if Esmerelda was his daughter (yes, he named her, and no, I was not allowed to change her name). Daniel took care of her all throughout high school and when he moved away, he passed the car along to me seeing as his college town was well-equipped with accessible public transportation.
Daniel loved Esmerelda no matter what—even when she gave him a hard time. Whenever that would happen, he and Kevin would spend hours gruelling over her ‘body parts’ and experimenting with different techniques to fix her from videos they found on YouTube. Kevin was always more hands-on, though, and managed to figure out the problem much faster than Daniel did. But during the short time they managed a makeshift mechanic shop out of our family garage one summer, they both took credit for the work.
I wish Kevin was here right now to help me with my car.
I don’t know how to get home without it. Calling Dad during this hour would mean that he would have to drive after drinking, which obviously wasn’t happening. Mom would not bother to answer her phone and even if she did, the last thing she would be capable of doing it getting behind the wheel to come pick me up from a job I have yet to tell anyone but Jinnie about. Speaking of Jinnie, I wish to all the stars above me right now that Jinnie could magically come and save me. Or that I could save myself from this mess.
I just want to go home and take a shower.
Today was a bad, bad, bad day and I just want to wash everything about it down the drain so I no longer have to sit with the motions and decode them. Am I getting punished by God for what my brother did? Am I a monster for working next to Taehyung when my family is the reason why his is missing a piece? Am I stupid enough to believe I’m not awful?
As I’m contemplating all of these questions, Taehyung walks out the front door, then locks it behind him. His motions are quick—focused, as if he’s closed up shop a thousand times before. I wonder if that’s true. Taehyung didn’t go back to school like he was supposed to, and everyone in town spread rumours about where he may have gone and what he was doing when he got back. Because the sports shop is a relatively slow business most days, it doesn’t take much guessing to understand that a lot of townsfolk probably don’t even know that he works here yet. Or they do and they have just decided to move on from gossip about the Kim family.
There is an uncomfortable edge to his voice coupled with surprise. He says my name like he hates saying it. Hates knowing that I’m here and that he has to put up with me. I hate that I’ve put him in this position.
“Hey, uh—”
“Why didn’t you go home yet?”
I shift so he can see the upturned hood of my car. “My car won’t, um, it won’t start.”
“Then take the bus.”
His nonchalance as he starts walking towards his own car stops me from answering him. Instead, I start patting my jeans to look for my phone. I find it in my back pocket and pull it out. Google Maps says my taxi fare would be around fifty dollars, bearing traffic in mind, if I call for one right now. The last bus to my neighbourhood stopped running at least an ago. I don’t think Taehyung knows this.
Suddenly, a car horn beeps at me.
Taehyung sits behind the wheel of his car looking stoic and tense. His knuckles are burned tight around the wheel, gripping it with his might. Up above, thunder rolls across the once clear sky. Was it supposed to rain tonight? As I look up to inspect the droplets of rain, Taehyung sticks his head out the window.
“Get in.”
He rolls his eyes. “It’s raining. I don’t want to be responsible for you taking a sick day tomorrow.”
I don’t want to be held responsible for you bringing bugs into the shop.
His earlier words ring fierce in my ears even as I shut the hood of my car, lock it, then get into the passenger seat of Taehyung’s Toyota Camry. Doing so hits me with the regret of not sliding into the backseat. Now I’m going to have to share even closer space with him inside a car that already feels like it’s suffocating me.
Without a word more, Taehyung backs out of the parking lot.
We drive in silence for a few minutes. It’s not as though I expected either of us to fill it, although it does remind of the days when laughter was the tune of choice which played for hours and hours inside this car.
Taehyung would drive Hyeri and our friends around sometimes, or he’d bring his friend, Jimin, and the four of us would go exploring out of town. We’d always get in big, big trouble with our parents (I was grounded for a whole month one time), but it was worth it. None of us ever regret what we did together. We had all the pictures and videos and memories to prove that our youth was something beautiful.
I train my gaze on the tote bag I carry everywhere with me. Hand-stitched words read, trust the timing of your life, with Hyeryung’s name stitched at the bottom. I fold the bag over so Taehyung doesn’t notice it.
“You don’t have to take me all the way home. I can—”
Taehyung reaches out to flip the radio on. A chorus of a loud pop song starts to blare.
A bead of sweat forms and trickles down the back of my neck, and my hands start to shiver. I squeeze them into fists under the tote so he doesn’t notice them either. I sit like this for the remainder of the ride, hating myself for accepting it when I could have sat just as uncomfortably inside a taxi.
When we were kids, Taehyung and Hyeryung used to put on mini musicals for their parents. They were both pretty decent at singing, and loved the attention, so it made sense that they would show off for their family who adored them.
Taehyung loved to sing oldies music, like the kind you would have heard on the radio in the 70s and 80s. They were his parents’ favourite, and anything they liked, Taehyung would instantly grow an attachment to, as if his life’s purpose was to please his mother and father.
I always admired that about him, especially since my own relationship with my parents was something I felt as though I was always building towards but was never truly mine. And after Daniel went to prison, what was left of our relationship disappeared for good. Dad tries his best to stay out of the house as much as he can, and Mom never speaks to me unless she has to. Sometimes weeks pass and I wonder if she even remembers me and Jinnie’s names.
We are nearing a red light when the song changes. It’s a song I would recognize anywhere, and I know Taehyung would, too. What Makes You Beautiful, the song of our summers. The three of us would sing it loud and proud everywhere we went, not caring who saw or heard us. Those were the moments when I truly felt like I belonged to my friends, like they were really mine and not someone else’s.
I clench my hands tighter as Taehyung starts to hum along. He doesn’t belt the song like he used to, when he would use old plastic bottles as a microphone and make his sister and me laugh until our bellies hurt.
I don’t know when I start crying. When the first tear hits my tote and melts against the fabric, I try to sniffle up the rest so Taehyung wouldn’t see them, but the effort is futile because the boy next to me snickers and says, “Don’t cry in my car.” Then turns the radio off.
Taehyung doesn’t say anything else to me as we drive up to my house. The lights are off and it looks like no one is home except for the small lamp emitting light from Jinnie’s room. Taehyung stops the car at the edge of my street and just stares. I wish I knew what he was thinking. All my childhood was spent hoping that I would one day be able to read Kim Taehyung’s mind without him ever having to speak. But I never did.
The street light is faint so I clutch my phone in my hand as I walk out, careful to whisper my ‘thank you’ instead of voicing it normally. Taehyung ignores me and keeps staring at my house.
There is so much I want to say to him, and talk to him about. We used to be able to talk about most things with ease. Laughed about them, too. Everything from cartoons to school to politics. Now it feels like we are both shells of the people we used to be.
I walk along the sidewalk with my phone flashlight guiding me. The walk is short enough, but I don’t want to risk the fall over something I can’t see. When I get to the house, I use whatever ounce of courage I have left inside me to look back. To my surprise, Taehyung is still there. It’s too far to see in the dark, so I don’t know if he’s still staring at the house or waiting for me to go inside, but I tell myself it’s the former only so I don’t stay up all night wondering about the latter.
. . . ❤ . . .
Mom is wailing in her room.
I hear it sometime after breakfast, when I’m washing the dishes and thinking about what to cook for dinner. Dad is passed out in the basement from the night before and I know better than to ask him to check on her.
I make Jinnie put in ear plugs before I walk to her room.
The door was locked, as it always is, so I go to my room and retrieve my extra set of keys. I also grab a bottle of water that was sitting on my nightstand.
Mom is curled up into a ball at the foot of her bed—her position of choice on the less than normal days.
I place my arm under her body and help her up, sitting her against the fabric headboard. She sniffles but doesn’t say anything. I use the back of my hand to wipe her cheeks then help her take small sips of the water.
Following the second sip, she murmurs, “Is Jinnie okay?”
“Yes,” I reply, ignoring the pang of hurt which bursts my chest open. Are you going to ask about me, too? I smile and add, “We just had breakfast. Overnight oats and French Toast.”
“Okay,” she nods, but I’m not sure if she completely understands. “Take care of Jinnie. He needs to drink his milk.”
“Yes, Mom.”
I leave the room promising to bring her breakfast in a few minutes, but the wailing starts up again as soon as my foot touches the top of the stairs. I shake my head and keep walking.
Jinnie takes out his earplugs as soon as he sees me come down. There is a look on his face which tells me he’s terrified that something has happened to our mother. I wrap him up in a hug before he can question me about it. I’m thankful then, that Jinnie isn’t one of those kids who hates being touched. These days, he is the only reason I manage to keep myself upright.
“Wanna go to the park?”
My brother looks up at me with wide eyes. “Really? Can we get ice cream?”
I ruffle his hair just the way he likes and nod my approval. “Go grab your soccer ball. We’ll head out in ten minutes.”
. . . ❤ . . .
When we get to the park, I’m grateful for its emptiness. Less people means less eyes and less gossip for Jinnie to hear.
I throw a smile toward my little brother. “Do you wanna go on the swings first or play soccer?”
So that’s what we do.
Jinnie and I both get on the swings together then make a competition about who can go the highest. I’m terrified of heights, absolutely hate them with all my being, but seeing the blissful expression on my brother’s face makes me fight off the demons which demand I stay on solid ground. We swing and swing for minutes until Jinnie jumps off while still in the air. I scream-laugh his name as he grins, waiting for me to hop down, too.
“That was so scary!”
“You’re a wimp!”
Jinnie giggles as I chase him down to the grassy area where he placed his soccer ball. When I’m close enough to reach it, I kick the ball with all my strength so that it goes flying over to the other side. Jinnie laughs and runs after it, his little legs taking him far and far off until I all I can see is his mop of dark hair and blue shorts.
I stand rooted in my spot, waiting for him to kick the ball to me, yet, when he does, the ball spirals past and hits the foot of someone standing behind me. I turn around to apologize only to find Taehyung staring at me, the same way he was staring at my house last night.
Of their own accord, my feet shuffle back, and I’m scared all over again.
Jinnie slowly walks up and instead of jumping up for Taehyung as he always used to, my little brother hides behind my legs. His hands are shaky as they clutch the material of my pants, and I know, without even looking at him, that he wants to go home.
“It’s okay,” I whisper so only Jinnie will hear. I place my hand over his and gently pull him to stand next to me. “We’ll go, okay? Lets go—”
But then Taehyung surprises us by bouncing the soccer ball on his right knee. He makes a show of bouncing it three times before catching the ball and placing it under his arm. Taking a step closer to Jinnie, Taehyung gets down on one knee and smiles at my brother.
“Can I play with you?”
Jinnie’s eyes widen, like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. I’m sure mine look the same. “Really?”
Taehyung grins. It’s the first time I’ve seen him smile in months. “Yes.”
Jinnie loosens his grip on my pants and looks up. “Can I, YN?”
Taehyung doesn’t glance my way, but I can’t help but stare at him. What is he playing at? I don’t care if he hurts me, but the idea of him hurting Jinnie makes me want to hurl. I’ve never been a strong person—emotionally nor physically, but for Jinnie, I would do anything.
I need Taehyung to know this.
Clearing my throat, I say to Taehyung, “Do you really want to play soccer with him?”
“Yeah, I do.” He looks up. “What? You don’t want me to?”
Jinnie makes a noise and pulls on my pants. He doesn’t want me to ruin his chances of playing soccer with Taehyung again. “N-No, that’s not—” I swallow my fear. “Fine. Thank—”
Taehyung gets up and looks directly into my eyes. I’m not prepared for the way it makes me tremble. His eyes are full of anger and resentment, and a darkness which I would have thought unfathomable a year ago. “I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing this for him. He didn’t do anything wrong, so don’t thank me.”
He didn’t do anything wrong?
As Taehyung takes Jinnie by the hand and starts to lead him away, I fall onto a park bench thinking, then what did I do wrong, Tae?
. . . ❤ . . .
Taehyung is eating a sandwich that looks days old.
I don’t mean to sneak glances at his meal while I eat my own, but I can’t help it when the rancid smell of the sandwich attacks my nostrils. I don’t think he even knows it’s rotten. Or maybe he doesn’t care.
I do, and I hate that I still do.
I push my bag of chips his way. Taehyung looks down at like I’ve offered him tiny mice. His face twists into an irritated shape, but he doesn’t deny himself the barbeque flavoured junk food I bought on my way to work this morning.
We sit in silence while we eat. This is only the second time I’ve eaten in the staff room, and I’m already regretting it. None of the food I eat comfortably trails down my esophagus and into my stomach. It seems to lodge first in my mouth then at the edge of my throat, as if my body is waiting for further instructions.
Taehyung finishes the bag of chips within a few minutes, and I know he wants to apologize for eating all of it, but he holds himself back. He doesn’t want to say anything to me, and for that, I release a slow exhale. I don’t want to strike up a conversation with him either.
Pulling out my phone, I start to scroll through Instagram. Hundreds of pictures litter my phone screen of people my age having the time of their lives in Cancun or LA. Photographs of boys in swim trunks hugging girls in colourful swimsuits; pictures of past friends having a picnic by a sparkling lake; and photos of people celebrating summer birthdays. It reminds me of Hyeryung, and how her birthday is at the end of this month.
Tears sting my eyes.
I miss her. I miss my best friend. I want to turn back time. I want to fix the hurt my family has given to everyone in this town. I want everything to be okay again.
I don’t realize that I’m sniffling until Taehyung clears his throat. I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand before looking up at him. His eyes—dark, mysterious, and totally unreadable—are staring at my phone. Or rather, what’s behind my phone case.
I turn the phone over. There is a picture of Hyeryung and me from our first day of second grade. That was also the day we decided to become best friends forever following an entire summer of playdates at each other’s houses. Hyeryung was wearing a purple shorts with a white shirt and I was wearing white shorts with a purple shirt. We had picked the outfit together when our mothers took us shopping for back-to-school clothes.
Hyeryung has her arm thrown over my shoulder while I’m clutching her waist, smiling as widely as she is. The backdrop is our second grade classroom before all the other kids came rushing in. We have one with our teacher, too, but I like this picture more because it’s just the two of us. Two best friends who thought nothing in the world could ever harm them or their friendship.
Taehyung grabs my phone out of my hands before I can fully register what’s happening. He tears the case off and reaches inside for the picture. I don’t know what to think as he stares down at it with an unfamiliar expression spreading over his features. His chest heaves, though, and his shoulders tense. Whatever he’s thinking, it isn’t good.
My theory is proven correct when the next second, Taehyung rips the photograph in half. Then in quarters. Then in tiny little pieces which scatter over the lunch table like shards of shattered glass.
His eyes snap up, and this time, they are black. “You don’t get to grieve her,” he retorts. A single tear escapes his eye and falls down his cheek. “She was my sister. My family. You don’t get to fucking grieve her death.”
My heart and lungs and probably ever other organ freezes as his eyes bear into mine. I’m unmoving but even that feels tenacious in the given situation. Taehyung’s white shirt expands with the punch of his shaky exhale while his hands clench firmly on the table. I bite my lip and look down, lowering my gaze.
Every inch of my heart is hammering, like some strange person is whacking at it ferociously. I move one of my hands to grip the table, but Taehyung hits his fist against it. Instantly, my clammy palm moves away from the shaking table. For the first time in my life, I’m petrified by Kim Taehyung, and the suffocating feeling which swam over our heads only a minute ago transforms into deeply sorrowful fear.
My lunch box is still shaking when he growls, “You don’t even regret it, do you?”
Another tear drips down his cheek. “Hyeri dated that bastard brother of yours and died for it, and you don’t give a single fuck.” He places his trembling right hand on the table and splays his fingers out over the cold material. “Why do you get to live a normal life when he took hers away? Huh? Why?! Why, YN?!” When I don’t answer, Taehyung grabs the table and flings it so it hits the wall behind him. Terrified, I rise from my chair and move back, but he’s faster. He gets up close to me and says, “Why didn’t you die? Why couldn’t he have taken his anger out on you? My sister—” I try to hold back, but when a sob wracks through my body, Taehyung’s anger deepens. “I told you not to fucking cry in front of me.”
This only makes me cry harder. I feel like my mother as I stand in front of Taehyung crying worse than I have in weeks. A choking feeling rises in my chest and squeezes my ribs tight. I just want this nightmare to end. I wish it was me who died instead of Hyeryung. I wish it every night before bed, and especially now, when Taehyung looks at me with fury lining his irises.
I want the ground to open up and take me. I wouldn’t argue. I would just go.
But then the door is being smacked open and Kevin is staring at the two of us with confusion.
He looks at me first, with my tear-stained cheeks and frightened stance, then at Taehyung, who takes a step back immediately after seeing Kevin. He doesn’t look at me again as he darts past the older man and out to the store.
“YN, are you—”
I wipe at my cheeks and force a smile. “I’m fine, Kevin. Don’t worry.”
“Should I talk to him—?”
“No!” My loudness is a surprise to both of us. Swallowing, I try again. “No, please don’t talk to him. Nothing happened. I’m completely fine. We j-just a-a… um, it was a misunderstanding. We’re fine. C-Completely fine.”
Kevin doesn’t believe and I know it. But I don’t want him to fire Taehyung or worse—talk to him about just happened. It might actually kill me.
For the next few hours, I stay far and away from Taehyung. When I need to go to the bathroom, I triple check the room before scrambling like towards it like a mouse. When I’m thirsty, I beg my stomach to hold onto until I get home to drink water. And when I feel the urge to check on him, sneaking peeks the way I’ve been doing for the last two weeks, I pinch my wrist and stop myself from doing so. All the while, my heart vibrates from the memory of our clash back in the staff room.
By closing time, Kevin swings by inventory to ask me to take out the trash.
“I would ask Taehyung, but he’s…”
“I’ll do it.”
Kevin nods. “Thanks, YN. I appreciate it.”
I time myself well.
While Taehyung goes to the bathroom, I sprint to the trash bins and pull them out, telling myself I’ll tie them when I get outside. Then I pile up all the recycling in the industrial bin and use my shoulder to push open the back door.
I haven’t been out here after it gets dark. It looks different now that the sun isn’t shining and the birds aren’t chirping and there are no ants I can see well enough to feed.
I tie the garbage bags first. Twisting the plastic around in my fingers, I tie them as tight as I can muster then squish them inside the black garbage bin. Thankfully, there isn’t much trash today so when I practice wheeling the bin, it’s easy enough for me.
Next is the recycling. We always get a lot of that. There are boxes—old and new—and various stacks of paper and other miscellaneous items that need to be properly disposed of. Unlike the garbage bags, I struggle to squeeze all the recyclables into the bin neatly. And as I’m doing so, I hear a distinct kick at garbage bin I left to sit idle behind me.
I turn around to inspect the noise, thinking it’s an animal, when I come face-to-face with Brandon Bloom.
“What are you—?”
Brandon grins, and it feels menacing. Panic flushes my system as I take a step back from the recycling. Brandon takes this as invitation to step closer until I can hear the thick breaths he takes.
“My mom’s been telling the town that you work here,” he says. “Thought I’d come here and see how you’re holding up.”
“W-Why would y-you—”
Brandon reaches for my wrist and twists it so my skin burns. I yelp, and try to loosen his grip, but he’s holding on too tight.
“You know, YN, your brother…” he grins again, and it makes me feel sick to my stomach. The dread inside me is building and everything I ever learned from self-defence on YouTube slips from my mind. “He used to tell all the guys that your cute ass was off limits. Said you were too young to be with any of us. But then he went and fucked Hyeri and none of us knew.” He leans in close to me so I can smell the alcohol on his breath. “I’ve never liked hypocrites, especially ones who tell me what I can and cannot have.” He grabs my throat and squeezes. “Imagine if I fucked you right here, right now. I’d put him in his fucking place then, wouldn’t I? Bet you’d feel so fucking tight around my dick—” I bite down on his hand as hard as I can, tasting copper when he screams and jumps back. I start to run from him, reaching for the door handle, when he pushes my front against it with all his body weight. “Fucking bitch! How dare you! I’m—”
Brandon is cut off when someone charges at him. A tall body pushes him to the ground and lands two punches straight to his face. I’m trembling as I step back, and blinking so fast that my eyes may as well fall out.
“Kim, what—?”
Another punch, and this time, it’s one which knocks Brandon out.
The heaviness in my chest grows louder as Taehyung slowly stands back up. He tries to take a step towards me but I flinch and move back.
“Are you okay?” As soon as he asks me this question, Taehyung’s remorse is visible. He swallows and steps over Brandon’s body to open the door. “Go inside. I’ll take care of this.”
I do as he says and then crawl into a foetal position on the floor of the stock room. A few minutes later, I hear a cop car pull into the parking lot. The lights aren’t flashing, but I can hear the distinct sound of their radios asking for the perpetrator and the victim.
“Daniel—Daniel, no! Wait! Officers, this isn’t—“
“Ma’am, please take a step back. I understand that you are in distress but we are only doing our job. Please take a step back from the accused.”
My mother didn’t listen and grabbed Daniel’s hands anyway, hands which were bound together by handcuffs. He tried to tell her to stop, but she is a mother and a mother for her child would do anything.
“My son would never do this! Daniel would never do this! He’s innocent! Please, just listen! Please—!”
“Mom,” Daniel whispered, begging our mother to look his way. “I’m okay. Please go.”
“Mom,” he tried again, crying this time as several people at the station fell silent. “I hurt her.”
. . . ❤ . . .
The police offer to take me home but I’m not talking. Or moving. I’m not doing much of anything except staring down at my lap as the officers speak to Kevin and Taehyung about what happened almost an hour ago.
I never saw them take Brandon away, but Kevin did, and he confirmed that he would be filing a restraining order against Brandon to stop him from coming near his shop again. The officers then asked told me they would be pressing charges against Brandon in my wake. “Physical assault,” I heard one of them say. “Poor thing. She looks distraught.” The only thing they don’t do is call my parents, seeing as I’m legally an adult in our province and no one is asking where they are anyway.
Taehyung walks into the staff room to see me sitting on the ground. I have my head between my legs, taking small breaths every now and then to remind myself that I’m still alive, though I wish I wasn’t. I’ve spent a lot of time this past year wishing I wasn’t.
I don’t look up, and he doesn’t try to say my name again. But what he does do is sit beside me and gently touch my arm. I recoil from his touch, but he persists.
“You’re bleeding,” he whispers, one soft hand on the side of my face.
I lift it to meet his eyes, warmer than I’ve seen them all this time. He touches my neck where a bruise has formed. I wince when he touches me, and it almost makes him stop, though he doesn’t.
Taehyung reaches for the First Aid Kit sitting in his lap and tidies my wound. He doesn’t say it, but I can tell Brandon’s nails left bruising marks on my skin. Using a wipe, he cleans the wound first then dabs the slashes with a white cream which absorbs into my skin pretty quickly, but not before making me wince from the pain. I do it a few more times as he tends to all the rips, but by the time he bandages them, I’m starting to feel better. Yet, I’m well aware that I shouldn’t.
If Brandon hates me then Taehyung hates me even more. And his is a hatred I can’t fault.
“This is about all I learned from Grey’s Anatomy Medical School,” he jokes, voice above a whisper. He says it to make me laugh, but all I can muster is a timid smile. Standing up, he holds a hand out. “I’ll take you home.”
“You don’t need to. My car is—”
“I know, YN.”
Taehyung’s car is as quiet this time as it was the first time he took me home, and when he drops me off at my house, it’s he stops the car closer to the driveway than the first time, too. Jinnie meets me by the front door, worry written all over his face since I came home later than usual. I pat his head and assure him that I’m okay, and when I glance outside to see Taehyung’s car, it’s gone.
. . . ❤ . . .
Kevin closes the shop for the next few days.
He sent Taehyung and me a text telling us not to come in and ‘recharge’ before he opens the shop up again on Friday. With nothing to do, perhaps more so than usual, I set Jinnie up with his online coding class and decide to deep-clean the house. If only just to take my mind off yesterday.
My whole night was filled with nightmares. No matter how hard I tried to pretend like nothing had happened to me, that whatever did happen was nothing to be so scared about, my subconscious littered my mind with horrific images of Brandon cornering me at every turn. I imagined his Cheshire cat-like grin and his beady, dark brown eyes, and his rough hands tightening around my neck.
I woke up several times in the night, breathless and sweating.
Deep-cleaning is easier than I imagined. With Mom asleep and Dad at work, and Jinnie occupied with his hobby, I got around to everyone’s room pretty easily. Except one. It’s the room no one has been in all year.
Daniel’s room.
After they arrested him, it became an unspoken rule that none of us were to go inside ever again. In a way, I think my parents were safeguarding it for when he would return. For when he would come back and everything would go back to normal. Perhaps we were all a little delusional about it because I never thought about going inside either.
But now, I want to.
Taehyung’s voice rings in my ear as I creak the door open.
He didn’t do anything wrong.
Based on pure assumption, Taehyung must think that I did do something wrong. Something that took his sister from him.
Daniel’s room is hot and full of dust with clothing strewn here and there. There is also his unmade bed, from that weekend he came home to visit us and the weekend that Hyeryung died.
I go to his desk.
It’s filled with textbooks and loose paper. There’s even a manila folder which says, “Final Exam Prep.” I can only assume it has to do with one of the various mechanical engineering courses he was taking.
He also has a wooden framed corkboard with his university’s banner on it, a few pictures of him and his friends, and then… a picture of Hyeryung. She’s alone in the picture, standing in front of an unfamiliar house.
I pull it off the pin and take a closer look.
Hyeryung looks just like her happy-go-lucky self. A picture of pure joy in a cute floral dress and sparkly, blue flats. Her smile is even brighter than the day this picture was taken on. I don’t know what pushes me to do it, but I turn the picture over. On the other side, there is a paragraph presumably written by my best friend.
I love you, Dani.
Maybe you’re going to think I’m crazy for wanting to marry you, but I knew I would from the moment I met you. Disagree all you want, but I know I’m the only girl on your mind. Just like you’re the only man who’s ever going to be on mine.
Your Hyeri
As soon as my first tear hits the ink, I wipe it away. Then I put the photograph back where it belongs and step away from the desk. But my foot hits something hard and I reach down for it.
Daniel’s old phone.
I don’t know how long it’s been on the floor since Daniel replaced the old generation Samsung with a new one. Picking it up, I’m surprised to see it’s still intact. I sit on his bed and plug in the charger, waiting for the phone to load. I don’t really know what I’m hoping to achieve by snooping through my brother’s phone, but my inner curiosity keeps pushing me forward.
When the lock screen pops up, I try several different numbers.
Mom’s birthday.
Dad’s birthday.
His own birthday.
I know for a fact that Daniel would never make me or Jinnie his password so I gloss over that. I glance over at the picture of Hyeryung again. That’s when it hits me—I’m so stupid.
Hyeryung’s birthday logs me in and takes me straight to Daniel’s home screen in which, there is a picture of him and Hyeri at his eleventh birthday party. The first time they met and our mother made him take a picture with all the kids who attended. It’s the only picture I’ve ever seen Hyeri look shy in.
I click on his messages. There are quite a few unread ones. Oh right, he changed his SIM card, too.
At the very top of the message list is one from Kevin. I click on that, too.
kevin: look man, im sorry ok? it's not like i asked for this
daniel: what? like you didn’t ask to like MY gf?
kevin: why are you making such a big deal out of this? she doesn’t even want me. she wants you. so be happy with that ffs.
daniel: kev, you’re supposed to be my friend. i can’t believe you told her you like her. fuck man.
kevin: again, not a big deal. she said she’s in love with you so.
Kevin liked Hyeryung? Since when? And how come Daniel never told me? How come Hyeryung never told me?
There are a million questions buzzing through my mind but the one at the very top is about Kevin—did he know something about Daniel that I didn’t know? Something that could help make sense of what my brother did to my best friend?
I’m racing out of the room faster than I can fully comprehend what I’m doing. I grab my cardigan off the dinner table, slip my bag over my shoulder, then text Jinnie to let him know that I’ll be back in two hours. I need to find Kevin.
I throw open my front door while I’m still pulling my shoes on when I bump into a hard chest.
“Oof,” the voice groans, but it’s quiet enough to tell me I haven’t done any real damage.
My eyes meet Taehyung’s.
Kim Taehyung.
Kim Taehyung is standing at my doorstep.
What the fuck—
“Where are you going?” He asks at the same time I question, “What are you doing here?” His cheeks seem to redden, and though I’m in a hurry, this morsel of information does not slip past me. He rubs the back of his neck and quietly admits, “I came to see if you were alright… after everything that happened yesterday.”
I nod. “I’m fine.” Then I try to sidestep him but he catches my wrist. I flinch, thinking about Brandon last night and Taehyung must notice the look on my face because he immediately lets go. “I’m in a hurry, but thanks for checking upon me, Taehyung. Really appreciate it.” I hop down the stairs in a speed of light only to be met with the reality of a missing car.
Right. Taehyung drove me home last night.
“Do you…” He walks up to me and says, “Where are you going? I’ll take you.”
He looks stumped. “Why… what?”
“Why do you want to take me anywhere?”
A shrug. “An apology. Of sorts.”
“What do you have to apologize for?”
“Taking the trash out was my responsibility,” he replies, suddenly unable to meet my eyes. “He never would have hurt you if I’d just done my job.”
I nod, again. I don’t really know what else to do. My heart feels like it’s caving in on itself every time I come close to him and one of these days, it may just stop altogether. “I’m f-fine. Don’t worry.” I pull out my phone and look up the bus schedule. Twenty minutes until the next bus. I can wait that long… right?
“I can still take you… wherever it is that you need to go.”
And so that’s how I end up in Taehyung’s car for the third time.
I give him the address to house but don’t tell him it’s Kevin’s. This is something I need to figure out on my own.
Kevin isn’t home when I ring the door bell, but someone else is. An older woman, probably somewhere in her early thirties, answers the door with a baby on her hip. She sizes me up and says, “What do you want?”
“Uh… I’m looking for Kevin.”
“He’s not home.”
“Okay, um. Do you know when he’ll be back?”
“Not for a while.”
I blink. She’s really giving me nothing. “Do you know where I could find him? It’s kind of an emergency.”
Her left brow lifts high, so high that it nearly disappears. “What kind of an emergency would a girl like you need my boyfriend for?”
I swallow to hold myself back from stuttering. Her eyes are so stern and hot on my face that I wish against all wishes that I’d ignored my curious heart and never came here at all. “It’s nothing. Thanks for your ti—”
The smack of the door being shut on my face makes me take a big step back. A whirling storm at the bottom of my stomach tells me something isn’t right here. Kevin has a girlfriend? And possibly a kid? He’s never mentioned either. Coupled with the fact that I now know about Kevin’s feelings for my best friend, I make the executive decision to jump off the porch and slip down to the window where I can clearly hear the woman talking on the phone.
Taehyung whispers, “What are you doing?!” To which I wave him off. I need all my attention on what she’s saying.
“Kevin, come home from whatever you’re doing. Some girl came to the house looking for you.” A pause. “How am I supposed to know who she is? Do you tell me about all the women you’re seeing behind my back?” Another pause. Longer than the first. “If this turns out to be like the last girl, it’s you who’s going to die this time.”
I close my eyes slowly, letting the woman’s words sink into my brain.
It’s you who’s going to die this time.
This time.
I fall back on my butt at the same time Taehyung comes scrambling over to help me. As soon as his hand touches my arm, my eyes snap open.
“We need to find Kevin.”
. . . ❤ . . .
Taehyung parks his car in the parking lot of the local bank. Through the large, floor-to-ceiling windows, we can see Kevin standing in line behind a four other people. I never would have guessed that we could find him here, but based on Taehyung’s knowledge about what Kevin usually does on his days off, this is where it begins.
“Why do you want to talk to him so badly?”
“I’ll tell you when I have concrete information.”
Taehyung sits back in his seat and huffs. He looks ticked off, but is trying hard not to show it. “If you’re going to do something that puts you in danger then…” he trails off. I can tell he doesn’t know how to finish his sentence. Not after everything that’s happened between us. “Just be careful.”
“I’m not getting out of the car just yet.” I tell him. “I’m observing.”
“Observing a twenty-three year old man at the bank?”
I nod. “There’s something that Kevin knows that he needs to share with me.”
“Can’t it wait until we go back to work on Friday?”
“No.” I breathe, thinking about the picture of Hyeryung hanging in Daniel’s room. “It can’t.”
Kevin leaves the bank fifteen minutes later. I count down the seconds until he steps out, and as soon as he touches the handle of his car, I rush to his side. His eyes blow wide in surprise.
“Kevin,” I gulp. “I need to talk to you.”
He looks taken aback. “Talk about… what?”
I hold up Daniel’s old phone. “Do you recognize this?”
“This is Dani’s old phone. I saw your texts to him.” His face blanks. “About Hyeryung.”
Kevin pulls on his door handle and jumps inside his car. “I don’t have anything to tell you about that. Please leave me alone.” He starts the ignition, but I jump into the passenger seat before he can back out of the lot. He looks at me with fearful eyes as my heart ricochets off its cage. “YN, please. This isn’t—”
“You know something,” I push. “I know you do, Kevin. I heard your girlfriend say that you’ll ‘die this time.’”
“You went to my house?”
“I was looking for you.”
That’s when Kevin backs out of the lot before I can get another word in. He drives with expertise, bypassing several other cars and onto the road. My heart starts screaming at me to jump out of his car right the fuck now! But I’m not listening. Instead, I buckle my belt and start throwing questions at him.
“Kevin, tell me the truth: do you know what happened to Hyeri that night?”
He’s silent, but presses harder on the gas. I clench my fists to stop myself from vomiting out of fear. I might die today, but not before finding out the truth.
“Kevin! I know you’re hiding something!”
He shakes his head and drives even faster. The road we’re on is empty, which makes it infinitely easier for him to drive carelessly. All around us is farmland with cows and horses and chickens that Hyeryung and I loved to go see on the weekends when we had nothing else to do but volunteer to help out her aging grandparents.
The man next to me presses down tightly on the gas, so hard that no turn of the break could have stopped the car from hitting the tree I never even noticed we were hurtling towards.
. . . ❤ . . .
The police officers arrested Kevin ten minutes after he woke up at the hospital. His girlfriend had been arrested several days before while I was still asleep. I didn’t undergo any massive operation after the accident, but I did need a few stitches at the crown of my head which the doctors told me would heal quickly enough.
I’m sitting in my living room on the phone with Daniel.
He isn’t saying anything. Typical. He never talks when I need him to.
“Dani,” I sigh, clutching the phone tighter against my ear. My mother is holding Jinnie in her arms on the other side of the room, watching me talk to my older brother. Or at least, attempting to. “Everything is already out in the open now. You can come home.”
“I…” I hear a sniffle. He cries like our mother does. “I can’t. YN, I… I’m not—”
“Not what?” I’m raising my voice at him for the first time and it feels exhilarating. I’ve gone all my life letting Daniel do what he wants without any of my input because I was taught to believe I was younger and therefore, less important in his decisions. But not anymore. Not after what we know now. “You’re not innocent? That you did kill the girlfriend you were in love with?”
“Am,” he corrects me in a small voice. “I still—I love her, YN. I never stopped.”
I wipe at the tear escaping my right eye. “Then come home, you jerk. Let’s go… let’s go see her. I know she misses you the most.” This time, I cry with my brother when his broken-hearted sobs pour through the line.
. . . ❤ . . .
Taehyung is sitting on my porch steps when I walk outside. It’s Hyeryung’s birthday and I planned on driving to her favourite coffee shop tonight to celebrate and order a low fat latte in her memory. Daniel planned on visiting her grave, but I don’t think I have the courage to do that just yet, and I don’t know why.
The brown haired boy looks up as the door shuts behind me. Neither of us says anything to the other until I take a seat beside him, far enough away so that I don’t make him uncomfortable. He has something in his hand—a photograph—and he hands it to me before I can ask what it is.
“I found it in Hyeri’s room,” he tells me. It’s identical to the photograph I kept inside my phone case. “I’m sorry that I… I’m sorry, YN.”
“It’s okay.”
He nods and looks out at the neighbourhood. It’s empty. The reporters stopped coming by a few days ago after Daniel promised to give one of them an exclusive interview. Now they’re all piggy-backing off that one twenty-minute segment on the local news channel.
“They kicked you out, didn’t they?” Taehyung suddenly asks. “At the funeral… my friends… they, um… they made you leave.”
My voice is so quiet that I wonder if he even heard me answer him.
“Do you want to… can I take you to see her?”
He tries to smile. I know it still hurts him to do it. “Hyeri wasn’t just my sister, she was also yours. I don’t know why I let myself forget that.” He exhales through his nose. “I see her everywhere even though she’s not here anymore.”
“I do, too.”
He wipes at his tears, and chuckles. “I wanted to hate you forever,” he admits. “I had a plan for it. I would hate you until my last dying breath.”
“And… now?”
“I don’t know.”
Why does that hurt more than a ‘yes?’
Taehyung does end up taking me to Hyeryung’s grave. He stands next to me as I place her favourite purple tulips on the ground next to her name. Under my breath, I whisper a prayer that I hope she hears.
I’m sorry it took me so long to come and see you, Hyeri. I love you to the moon and back.
He tries to buy me food after, but I deny him. So we sit in his car, in the parking lot of a random Burger King, staring out opposite windows in the hope that one of us will shatter the silence.
“I still hate you a little bit.” I look at him. This isn’t how I expected him to start talking. His knuckles are white over the steering wheel where he grips it. “You knew they were together and you never told me.” A long sigh. “But I guess you have your reasons.”
“Hyeri, you never hide anything from Tae. So why are you hiding this?”
My best friend sighs, the same way her brother does when he’s frustrated and doesn’t want to answer a question. “Tae doesn’t want me to date, much less someone even older than he is.”
“Yeah, but this is Daniel we’re talking about. Tae knows him.”
“Tae knows a lot of people. If I used this argument, he would go, ‘What? Are you going to date everyone I know then?’ He’s so stupid like that.”
I bite my lip. “I don’t like hiding things from him…”
“That’s because you have a crush on him so it’s distorting your rational thinking.”
“Tell me I’m lying, YN. I’ll wait.”
Hyeryung giggles as I punch her arm. And after that, I promised myself I’ll never share the news of her relationship with anyone she doesn’t want knowing. Even back then, I knew all Hyeryung was doing was protecting her budding relationship with a boy who she was head over heels for.
“They were in love,” I murmur, quiet as a bee. “I’ve never seen two people more in love than they were with each other.”
Taehyung’s lips flatten as he presses them together. “I think I would have liked to see that.”
“I’m sorry, Taehyung.”
“I’m sorry, too. I did a lot to hurt you… didn’t I?”
“YN...” his voice is even quieter than mine as my name slips past his bitten lips. “Can you look at me?”
And so I do, and I want to regret it—I want to regret looking into his beautiful brown eyes pouring into mine—but I don’t. He inches closer to me and takes my face into his warm hands. They’re big enough to encase my much smaller face, and then pull me closer.
His eyes land on my lips. I know what he’s going to do and I have to stop him before he does.
“T-Tae…” I whisper, voice timid and broken and not the least bit convincing. “Please, d-don’t. You’ll regret it…” But as my voice trails off, his eyes simmer with an unfamiliar desire.
He gazes at my lips again. They are full of hunger this time, mixing easily with the pain he pushes past in order to hold me close. “I would never regret anything with you,” he whispers just as his head curves down and our lips meet.
For a second, I don’t think about anything but his kiss. His sweet, warm kiss which I have craved in all my dreams and awakened hours. His mind-numbing kiss which touches my soul as softly as his hands trail the length of my cheeks and my neck.
I let myself experience the kiss for what it is for all the seconds he kisses me. I don’t count them, but I know it could not have been a minute he kissed me for because when we come up for air, I feel like no time has passed by at all.
And I want him to kiss me again.
“I-I’m sorry,” I whimper, not knowing exactly what I’m apologizing for this time around. “You’re confused, right? I’m confusing you—”
Taehyung kisses me again. Harder and fiercer and stronger than the first time. This time, he grabs my face with eagerness and crushes his lips to mine with a hunger akin to a starving animal and I can do nothing but kiss him back with the same intensity.
“All my life, I’ve wanted to kiss you the way I did just now,” he breathes while still holding me. “Every birthday, every celebration, every soccer match I ever won or lost—I wanted to kiss you at the beginning and the end of them.” Another kiss, then two smaller pecks. “Maybe Hyeri was scared of telling me about her and Daniel, but I was terrified of telling her about my feelings for you.”
A tear drips down my cheek, and he catches it. “She knew.”
“God,” he groans, dropping his forehead on mine. “I’ll bet she’s watching us from up there now, and making jokes.”
“The worst jokes.”
We kiss again. Then one more time. Every kiss hurts a little bit less than the one before it.
“Tae…” I whisper as the sun begins to set outside our windows. I don’t look at him as I speak. I don’t want him to see my eyes when I say my next few words. “I’m always going to be a reminder of what you lost,” I tell him as my heart twists and burns. “I don’t want you to spend the rest of your life feeling hurt because of me.”
His reply is instantaneous.
“And what about you?” He asks, almost as quiet as I am. “Am I not a reminder?” He slips his hand through mine and coaxes me to look at him. “You lost someone you love, too, YN, and I will always be a reminder of that.” He tries to smile. “But I think… if Hyeryung was here with us right now, she would tell me to go for it.”
“Go for it?”
“To tell you that I love you,” he breathes, eyes full of new tears. “I love you, YN. And I know it’s not right of me to tell you this after all the hurt I’ve put you through for a crime that was never yours, but… here I am, telling you anyway.”
I burst into sobs. “I-I’m s-so sor-ry.”
Taehyung leans over the console and pulls me onto his lap, whispering, “It’s okay, it’s okay,” and then, “I’ve never fought for anything in my life, YN, but I’m going to fight for you now. I love you, and that’s all I know.”
I hide my face in his neck as another storm of tears blows through me. I think of Hyeryung—my best friend, my sister—and her tragedy. Of the love she fought for with my brother every day and the love she died protecting. I think about my brother—the man I always looked up to—and how he will spend the rest of his life mourning his love. I think about our broken families and this town which lost someone who lit up every street and every corner she ever walked on to.
Mrs. Nguyen once told me that grief is something we carry with us all our lives. Something we can never really shake off completely. Every person in the world grieves. It is a part of human nature to love and to lose.
It’s Hyeryung’s birthday today and I don’t know how to celebrate it. But I think about how she lived and how she existed and how every square inch of her life was love. Love for herself, love for her family, love for her friends, love for strangers, and love for the man she never looked away from.
And so, in her memory, I kiss the words, “I love you,” on Taehyung’s lips and follow in her footsteps.
. . . ❤ . . .
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure. What’s up?”
I gulp down my fear. I can still taste the orange Fanta I had with dinner tonight at the Kims’ house. “Do you only like me because I’m Hyeri’s friend?”
I shy away into my sleeping bag. I’m afraid he’ll see how I truly feel about him if he glances over. “I’m scared that you only spend time with me because Hyeri is my friend.”
“I’m your friend, too, YN.”
“And do you… like me?”
“I do,” he whispers, voice sweet and incandescent after midnight. “I like you a lot. I’ll probably like you forever.”
I’m really blushing this time. “Can I tell you a secret?”
“Go ahead.”
“I’m going to like you forever, too.”
564 notes · View notes
dimpleddaydreams · 12 days ago
The Bath House: Series Masterlist (Ongoing)
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Genre: Smut, Fluff, Angst  Characters: King!Yoongi, Servant!Jungkook, Queen!Reader (feat. King!Namjoon) Rating: 18+ Warnings: Assault, blood, breeding!kink, dirty talk, heartbreak, masturbation, r*pe/sexual assault, oral (male + female receiving), power!kink, praise!kink, prostitution/sex work, rejection, strong language, torture, unprotected sex, violence. 
Main Series:  Part I: (x) Part II (x) Part III (x)  Part IV (x) Part V (x) Part VI (x) Part VII (x) Part VIII (x)  Part IX (x) Part X (Coming Soon)
Drabbles/Extras: Character Visualizer: Yoongi (x)  Character Visualizer: Jungkook (x)  World Visualizer: Palace Grounds (x) Soundtrack: (x)
257 notes · View notes
tipsydipsydo · a month ago
Dirty little Secret [M]
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Pairing: CEO! Jimin x Secretary & Personal Assistant! Reader
Gender of the Reader: female
Word Count: 8.9k
Genre: tiny bit of Fluff; Smut/PwP (employer & employee to lovers/collagues2lovers)
Warnings: dirty Language & dirty Talk; cursing; usage of sextoys at workplace; usage of a remote-controlled buttplug vibrator; masturbation at workplace (not really); exhibitionism-kink; kink for getting caught red-handed (kinda); kink for getting formal addressed while sex (= Mr. Park); talk about consent/safeword & safesignal; rough making-out session; marking & biting; nippleplay; dry-humping; some assplay with the vibrator; petnames; praising; verbal degradation; edging; pussy-exhibitionism (Jimin wants the reader to spread her folds apart);oral (fem. recieving); double-penetration; some clit-slapping/pinching as a punishment (the reader is kinda bratty); multiple orgasm; slight overstimulation; Mr. Park has a big fat cock; sex on the office desk; protected vaginal sex. (Jesus Christ, I hope I didn't forgot to add a tag! 🥵🥵)
Summary: Whenever you leave your apartement for work, you're carrying a dirty little secret to your workplace as well. To be more specific, you wear inconspicuous sex-toys underneath your business attire to keep your sex-craving libido under control. Nobody noticed something and everything went well... until now. Until your Boss and secret crush, Park Jimin, bursts into your office unannounced and hears something buzzing which definitely doesn't come from your phone. Even worse, he sees a certain remote-control laying on your desk that seems to be surprisingly familiar to him...
Status: roughly edited (I am sorry for any typos/mistakes! English isn’t my first language. 🤧)
A/N: Well... what should I say? This idea here was planned as a 1k drabble and now turned out to be the longest story I've written until now! Everything started with a headcanon between @breadoffoxy and me, which bases on the concept photos of butter bc he looks sooooo much like a CEO! in that damn grey suit! Thank you so much, Foxy! For chatting about all our headcanons, supporting me so much and being such a great friend 💕💕 I hope I've ruined you thoroughly with this story! 😏😘
Feedback/Reviews is very appreciated! 🥺💕
My other Stories | Blog Navigation
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「© tipsydipsydo」
This following story is my intellectual property and belongs only to my blog!
I’ll not accept any kind of reposting, stealing or using/editing my work!
That includes reposting my content on other social media platforms too, even when you link me as the original author.
Thank you.
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Sometimes you wonder if you've gone completely crazy and don't have any grasp of decency or certain morals at all anymore.
As if you need to ensure, that it's still there, you clench around the silicone buttplug vibrator deliberately. Yes, the turned-off vibrator remains silent (until now) shifts slightly between your ass cheeks, thanks to your squeeze. The toy, that shouldn't even exist in this kind of enviroment, sits defintely in the right place where it's supposed to be and causes an exited shiver to run down your spine. God, you're so dirty.
You're gnawing nervously on your lower lip while your eyes scan your small anterroom, your Boss' office and even the corridor, that leads to both previous listed rooms, as well. You simply can't help yourself, you need to make thorougly sure that not a single person is even close to your workplace.
Nobody needs to tell you that your behaviour is ridiculous. There are only two people who has their own workspaces on this floor, the first one is your Boss and the second person are you, his personal assistant and secretary. The CEO of this company, Park Jimin, is attending a business meeting over the whole day in an other company today however, which means you're the only employee on this entire floor.
Your work rooms are at the very end of the hallway, the other rooms beforehand are getting just occasional used, for example the big lounge space or the enormous meeting room. When it happens that someone else than you two actually enters this floor, they need to get registered at the reception in the entrance hall in the first floor and the receptionist has to call and inform you anyway.
In conclusion, your nervousness and fear of getting caught is completely unfounded.
You don't even know exactly why you're suddenly such a scaredy-cat, it's not like as if you didn't already done something similar to this in the previous weeks. Yes, you have to admit that you've already gone to work with love balls in your pussy and a buttplug up your ass as well, it's roughly just a week ago. Maybe today is a little different because this toy is able to make noises, the potential of getting caughed increased clearly.
It's more surprising that you're still working with a (most of the time) straight face as if never something had happened and didn't quit out of mortification yet because you couldn't look Jimin, your charming and handsome looking Boss, in the face anymore.
Why are you even doing this? Honestly, you don't even know it yourself.
Maybe because the thrill of possibly getting caughted is getting you off to a level, that you simply couldn't resist the thought even longer.
Maybe, if you'd be honest with yourself for at least once, you might even wish deep, deep down that you'd actually get caught by someone, preferably by your boss Mr. Park... God, you really need to stop dreaming about things that won't happen in any possible way! Your last relationship was about two years ago and your incredible high sex drive couldn't get satisfied exclusively at home either, so you had to 'expand your activities' to not going completely insane.
You would be a liar if you deny that you already fantasized about it half a year ago. So this crazy idea didn't came not 'out of nowhere' so far. Until now you rely all your hope of evading a dismissal (caused by your incomprehensible and immoral behaviour on your workplace) on your ridiculously meticulous precautions.
May the luck be with you.
After wasting ten minutes in eavesdropping for any non-existent human noises nearby, you slowly relax into your revolving chair and grab the promising remote-control out of your purse. A pretty quiet, muffled buzzing fills the silent room and even though that you're aware of every upcoming action, it still caught your ass a little off-guard and clenches even harder around the toy than it did before. A tiny pant flees over your lips, which makes you look down in a bashful smile.
"God dammit, get yourself together", you mumble breathlessly to yourself. You need to be able to keep your usual posture nevertheless, even though you're alone. Just in case.
Another ten minutes went by until you calmed down and made yourself see some sense again. Now, you could finally start to go through the the pile of papers Jimin left on your desk this morning, together with a clarifying note on them.
The morning proceeded to go by as intended, without any unplanned occurrence. You completely relaxed into your chair and all your attention is soon dedicated to the open files in front of you. The vibrator keep buzzing quietly in your cute little asshole, you change the setting only from time to time. Sometimes, a little amused smile plays around the corners of your lips. In those moments you think about how much the vibrating plug actually 'calms your nerves' and keeps with the included stimulation your hungry libido at bay. You're pretty surprised as you realize, how many of your assigned tasks you've already done this morning as your phone reminds you of your lunch break. Well, it seems like as if the Buttplug helps you to keep your full attention on your papers and increases your work performance. That's nothing to complain about, it kinda gives you the impression that there are only advantages of wearing sex toys to work.
You use your lunch break to eat something, checking your phone if you received some personal messages and lastly, to use the restroom to check on your plug. It's almost a routine already, to take the anal toys out and reapply some more lube to keep the toy smooth and the continued wear of the plug painless.
Today is a good day, you finished all the papers and filled the finances tables, which Jimin needs to be ready for the upcoming meetings in the next few days. Now you can work on the less important files that had been set aside for a while.
Hopefully Jimin will notice how much you've done today... It's not like that Mr. Park gives you barely appreciation for all the hard work you're doing, he compliments you and let you know that you're often the person who actually keeps everything running in the company. Sometimes he even says that he'd be absolute nothing without you and that you're the perfect assistent he ever wanted and needed. But whenever he says things like this and looks you with such honest appreciation in the eyes, you can't tame the wild butterflies of happiness and adoration in your stomach anymore. Then you want to hear it again and again, it's never enough!
Yeah, maybe you developed more than just a tiny crush on your Boss. Yep, you absolutely can't help yourself anymore.
You're so lost in your work that you didn't heard the foot steps coming down the hallway and before you can cover your little dirty secret up by turning to vibration off, none other than Mr. Park opens the door to your office.
"Ah, hello my dear Miss Y/L/N! I hope you had a good morning, the meeting today ended earlier than expected..."
As much as you want to, you can't keep track on the words he is saying, too mesmerized are you by the outfit he's wearing today.
Fuck, he looks so incredibly attractive and sexy in this grey suit and his thinly dark-blue and white striped tie. According to the big, square yellow-toned sunglasses which sits on his nose, he drove himself to that meeting. You don't even dare to imagine how hot he must look when his hand lays on top of the gear shift and he wears a serious gaze on his face, his full attention on the traffic in front of him. Maybe he'd even clenches his jaw or curse sometimes if-
"Miss Y/N, I think your phone is buzzing, why don't you accept the call? Your phone doesn't ring usually at all, maybe it's an emergency! Go ahead, I don't mind that you're still in your work shift.", Mr. Park pulls you out of your inacceptable daydreams. If this isn't even embarrassing enough that you checked him out totally apparent almost drooling, now he's pointing out a non-existent phone call.
Not your phone us buzzing. It's the vibrating buttplug, that's shoved up your greedy ass. You never wanted so bad in your life that the floor under your feet suddenly opens up into a big, black hole and swallows you whole.
It seems like that your Boss slowly realizes too that the buzzing couldn't come possibly from your phone. Jimin knits his well defined brows together in confusion, why don't you dare to look him in the eyes anymore and why screams your body posture that you're ashamed, almost mortified about something all out of the sudden? Then his gaze falls down onto your desk where you phone lays with the display visible. It's completely dark in his usual stand-by modus, without any notification that someone is calling you right now. This confuses him even more.
Then his eyes stops at the remote-control right next to your phone. It's looks unexpectedly familiar which startles him even more. He can't figure out right away of what this remote control reminds him but the longer he looks at the white, ergonomic shaped object the more clear gets the imagine of this memory.
He owns the same model of the remote-control. In navy blue.
...and that controller belongs to a silicone buttplug-vibrator.
That means... his cute, lovely and hard-working secretary wears a vibrating buttplug in her ass while she's at work and allows herself to be lulled into a false sense of security because he said he'll be away the whole day.
How naughty.
All the previous confusion is washed away from Jimin's face within seconds and sly smirk appears on your Boss' lips. Without any hesitation he grabs the remote-control from your desk and turns the constant vibration off. At least for now.
"Miss Y/L/N... I didn't know you'd be that kind of person who wears sex toys to work. I thought, based on your timid and reserved behaviour... you'd be more private with those kind of things.", says Mr. Park and raise one of his awfully defined eyebrow questionly at you.
It surprises you, he doesn't seem to be visibly mad at you... he looks rather amused and curious for your explaination. Well, your guess is just based at the slight curl of the corner of his mouth. Maybe you misinterpret everything and today is your last official working day before you get fired.
He is so kind and do not force even more pressure at you by asking more questions, gives you some time to get yourself together to explain yourself. Honestly, you're confused why there is not really any judgement in his brown eyes. Why does he seems to be so understanding if he's gonna fire your disgusting ass anyway?
"U-Uhm... well, there you are asking a really good question, Mr. Park... I-I am very aware of the fact that my behaviour is absolutely inacceptable and honestly, I don't have any legitimate reason w-why I did this today. I was unprofessional and naïve to think, nobody is going to find out about this incident. I took advantages of your absence. I-I am so sorry to dissapoint you and your expectations in me... if you'd like to agree, I'd like to quit. I've overstepped our boundaries incorrigible and our relationship as employer and employee, and as colleagues as well wouldn't be the same anymore. I'd like to advoid to become an additional bother for you and your company. I hope my reasons are... understandable."
As those words are coming out of your mouth, you have to use all your emotional strength to not burst out into tears in front of him. You shouldn't be this dramatic, you did all this shit to yourself. He has all rights to fire you now and you should take it as professional as possible.
Jimin is a little taken aback by the seriousness in your voice and how you view your actions so self-reflective. He appreciates that thoroughly.
The room fells silent as your Boss picks his following words carefully.
"Honestly I would have been dissapointed in you if I'd have witnessed that it would distract you from your tasks but as I can see by all the organized pile of folders and printed tables... It really seems to increase your working performance. If you don't mind me to mention it... I've already recognized in the last few weeks that you're able to work even faster than usually. Well, if you allow me to draw a connection between those two occasions... could it be that you already wore sex toys at work before I caught you red-handed today. Am I right?"
You gulp harshly, your throat is terribly dry. Why does his statement sounds like as if he's not really mad at you and pointing out your increased work performance but his questions gives you the feeling of being in a interrogation nevertheless? You're the culprit of this whole, messed up misery so you don't dare to question him.
"Yes. I did. Since the last three weeks.", you say plainly in a hoarse voice. You told Mr. Park already everything what is there to say. What else should you explain? What kind of toys you used the previous weeks? Neither you want to embarrass yourself even more nor do you think that Jimin wants to know those private details about his employee.
Mr. Park takes a deep breath and lets an audible sigh out.
"I See."
There is a slight rasp in his voice before he turns politely out of your direction to clear this throat. Afterwards he loosens up his tight tie and adjusting his pants. Your heart speeds up, you don't know why, maybe you're just simply overreacting but he looks kinda stressed all out of the sudden. Jimin is clenching his jaw and he moves his sunglasses up into his hair before he pinches the bridge of his nose. Maybe he is more upset than you thought he'd be?
Yeah, Jimin is indeed not as relaxed as he was five minutes ago. The reason for his changed behaviour lies underneath his belt... suddenly he has a growing problem in his pants thanks to your confirmation.
It's hard for him to believe that his gorgeous and beloved secretary lady with which he slowly fell in love with actually wore toys in her pussy or ass and pretended like as if nothing had happened.
The thought alone that you wore god knows what things while you sat next to him and discussed the financial developtment of the newest product... The fact that you're still wearing a sex toy!
Oh God, he cannot get a fucking boner right now, no matter how exiting all upcoming possibilities in his head may be, he simply can't mortify his poor assistent even more.
As horny he may be, he has some human decenty and won't take any advantages of your vulnerable state. ... at least not without your clear consent.
"First of all, I'll not fire you."
His words startles you, your head shoot up within a second and you look at him in pure disbelief. What did he just said?!
"I-I do not understand, Mr. Park."
A fond smiles spreads on your Boss' lips. Nope, he could never fire you, you're too precious and hard-working, not even after that (beyond belief) unprofessional incident that just happened today. Well, maybe he just makes unprofessional decisions himself ever since he laid an eye on you. He simply couldn't let you go (until you personally want to), especially not after he discovered what naughty things you so in his building.
"As I stated previously, your... 'actions' didn't affected your work performance in any negative way, it's actually the contrary. So why should I dismiss you?", Mr. Park explain his decision with a light chuckle and gives you an encouraging wink.
You look at him with eyes almost the size of a plate, completely flabberghasted and stuttering nonsense until no words are coming out of your throat anymore. Soon the room falls into a thick and uncomfortable silence which is eating both of you inside out.
Jimin is trying to think about some joke to loosen up the tense mood and make you laugh or at least to elict a tiny giggle, he hates to see you in this awfully ashamed state. Something what he hasn't thought through properly are the next words coming out of your mouth.
"Well, maybe you should refrain from using those toys here at work to secure you from another embarrassing incident. Not because of me, I don't mind it at all but maybe because of the public business. You could use me as a replacement instead in your lunch-break. After all, we want to keep your work-performance up, wouldn't we?", he suggests jokingly without any second thought.
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck! Why the hell did he said this, that stupid comment makes the whole situation even more worse. If that's even possible. Yes, it does.
"Excuse me?"
Your whole body freezes up at his words and you almost choke at your own saliva. Countless paradox things happens in your brain at the same time. On one hand you can't even form one clear thought and on the other hand, your mind seems to run a thirty-miles-marathon, thousands different ideas are shooting through your head without getting a grasp on them.
What does his statement mean with 'you can use me as an replacement'? He's not really suggesting, that you can use his dick 'as a replacement' for the toys and you both could fuck in his office?!
"Oh my God Miss Y/L/N, I spoke without thinking about the words that came out of my mouth, I didn't mean to say something like this! I apologize for this lewd comment I made.", interrupt Mr. Park your non-stopping train of thoughts hastily. Now he's the one who's eyes can't meet yours and runs his right hand nervously through his blonde hair.
"But even when you didn't mean to speak these words out loud, did you mean it? Would you... would you actually offer me your cock as a replacement, would you fuck me? For real?"
Wow. What the fuck. Since when did you became so bold?! You have absolutely no idea where that came from and that you even dared to take those vulgar words into your mouth in front of your boss. The only thing you can think of right now is, that you need to know his honest opinion. Well, the concept of this offer couldn't came out of nowhere, right?
Here and now is your boss the one, who stands there with his mouth hanging open, completely dumbfounded and can't find any possibly useful phrases. Jimin closes his eyes for a second and takes one last deep breath while running one of his hands through his messed up hair once again. It's a habit of his, he can't leave his hair alone whenever he's stressed or nervous.
Now or never, he has to man up for the offer he gave you. Even when he said it jokingly, deep down he knows that he meant it.
Besides that... maybe this fucked-up situation would actually lead you two somewhere? He hopes that he's not completely stupid and gets everything wrong... but your statement sounded more like a counter-question to him, to make sure that you understood him correctly. If you'd be outraged about his suggestion, then you'd have already gotten up, possibly gave him a hard slap on the face and left the room. Probably on your way to the next police station and report him for sexual assault at the workplace. Nothing of that happened until now. Maybe you'd not be opposed of his rather risqué offer?
"You know, I said this to joke around but I meant it with all my honesty. Miss Y/L/N, you're an incredibly attractive lady, with a remarkable personality and with exceedingly ambitions. I'd be a liar if I'd tell you that I didn't recognized that... and that I had some not-safe-for-work fantasies where you played the main character. I am genuinely interested in you, Miss Y/L/N. And with that, I mean not only sexually, I am interested in you as a person as well.", Jimin forced out in a raspy voice, gnawing at his lower lip and rubbing his neck almost aggressively thanks all the tension and nervousness.
Even though he feels more ready to jump out of the window at the 36th floor, he locks eyes with you.
You cannot look away from his Chocolate brown eyes, your breath speeds up and comes out with a slight tremble. Did he really said that what you think you heard or are your ears playing a bad prank?
Your lips are terribly dry so you can't withstand the urge to wet them with your tongue. Jimin's pierced gaze falls instantly to your lips and follows every move of your tongue. He presses his lips together into a thin line and clench his jaw once more at this tempting sight. Your Boss is visibly affected by your actions, he couldn't deny it even if he wants to.
You cross your legs in the naïve hope that it would stop your pussy from leaking so much arousal, soaking through your thin panties almost entirely. Your asshole simply cannot stop clenching around the silent vibrator out of nerve-wracking exitement what might follows next.
Fuck, you've never thought that this would actually happen and that your dirtiest dream could become true. And now, on an early wednesday afternoon, here you are.
"Honestly I'd be a liar too if I'd say I wore these toys without any ulterior motives... in my own filthy daydreams I actually hoped that you'd catch me red-handed with them and chastize me for my naughty behaviour. Bending me over the next flat surface and stuffing my greedy holes with your cock. Using the vibrators against me, fucking me, until my starved libido is satisfied for at least a while. ...what about you? What kind of 'NSFW-ish' fantasies did you had about me, Mr. Park?"
You giggle slightly and tilt your head non-chalantly to a side, offering him a one-sided smirk as those provoking words left your lips.
Your words and your smirk drives him almost insane. Jimin can't deny that the combination of dirty words and the formal form of address does something to him. He can already hear you calling him by his last name while he's pounding that pussy mercilessly. A deep groan erupts Jimin's throat at this thought, he looks quickly down at himself and sees that his painfully hard cock already formed a more than visible outline in his dress pants. He can't withstand your suble teasing anymore, he needs to have you. Right here, right now.
"You finished all the files and finance tables that I need for the next day... why shouldn't we use the remaining time of your shift to let some of those dirty thoughts come true? In my opinion that would be a great reward for your diligent work and I can take from your previous words that this was your ultimate goal in general. Why won't you hop onto your desk and let me explore your entchanting body a little further?", Jimin teases back as he rounds your desk and looks up and down at you with a dark hungry gaze.
You barely sit on top of your desk as Jimin already parts your legs impatiently to place himself between them and takes your face into both hands. Suddenly his facial features softens and an affectionate smile spreads over his plush lips.
"You sure that you want all of this? You don't feel pressured into anything that's coming next? We can stop anytime you want to, okay? Your well-being is the most important thing for me.", he wispers against your lips with a serious look in his eyes, making sure that this whole upcoming session has your consent. It makes you smile in adoration, appreciating his attentiveness so incredibly much.
"Yes, I want you so bad. Safeword is Papaya and Safesignal is tapping you three times, okay?", you respond and gives him a sweet peck onto his nose.
"Very good. Such a good girl, even thinking about Safewords and Signals."
Then everything happens so quickly and at the same time. Lips are crashing eagerly against each other and greedy hands are roaming restlessly over the other persons body.
Open mouthed, sloppy kisses getting exchanged and your tongues are soon entangled. Swirling around and exploring the new territory, sucking on the tips of each others tongues until a string of saliva connects both of your bodies.
It leaves you shuddering to feel all those hard, defined muscles of his chest move underneath your fingertips. Only this god forsaken dress shirt prevents you to see his lucious torso in all its glory. You tug desperately at the expensive linen-fabric, if you wouldn't be so greedy and impatient you'd be actually able to pop these stupid buttons open.
"Fuck, if already your kisses taste so fucking sweet then I'd bet that those pussy lips down there just has to taste even sweeter...", groans Jimin into your ear even though it looks like as if he's talking more to himself and is making a mental note to get a little taste of pussy today as well.
He leaves a path of kisses behind himself as he moves lower to your collarbone, making sure that he left some very visible hickeys to mark you as his own.
Just the thought of that makes you whimper into his mouth and countless muffled mewls ensues shortly afterwards as he found their way onto your covered boobs. He's palming them rather roughly with his big hands but you doesn't mind his manhanding at all, you enjoy the harsh, desperate treatment. It makes him growl in frustration as he feels your stiff nipples underneath his palms. Big thanks to your morning self that you chose a simple lace-bra without any cups to cover up.
"I can't slow down right now, I need to see your pretty tits."
With these words pulls firmly at your blouse which is tucked into the waistband of your skirt and shove it up to your shoulders without any second thought.
"Fucking hell, what a shame that you had hide those gorgeous boobs away from me... well, until now.", he sighs quietly.
As you look down at him, an amused giggle finds their way over your lips and you let your left hand run through his soft, silky hair. Jimin must lost his sunglasses somewhere through the make-out process.
He surveys your boobs with a look as if he's a starved man and is about to eat you alive. You grab both of your bra-straps with your hands and lower the last piece of fabric so he has an unrestricted view at your bare breasts, your nipples literally begging at him to give them some attention.
"Here you go, Jimin... take what you want, I'm yours~", you encourage him in a sweet voice and arch your back, shoving your tits almost right into his face.
You certainly didn't expect Jimin to take it literally and eat your body up alive, the way he's determined to leave over a dozen hickeys (minimum) all over the swell of your boobs and abusing your nipples with his mouth up to the point where you are squirming and crying in desperation underneath him.
You thought he'd gave you a small break to make sure you're not really hyperventilating but no,
your Boss doesn't waste any time and slides both of his hands underneath your skirt to grasp your ass cheeks firmly until he elicts high-pitched moan out of your throat.
"Aha, there is your little naughty toy, Baby..."
His newfound nickname for you sends an arousing tingle down your spine and feeds the growing ball of lust in the pit of your lower abdomen. Another pathetic whine flees just a few seconds later over your lips when he spreads your asscheeks apart just to squish them together, so the toy moves nicely around you.
"Do you like that, Y/N? I think you'd like it even more if your stretched rim would get some stimulation from the vibrations, hm?"
Before your mushed brain is even able to understand what he said, Jimin takes the remote-control out of the pocket of his pants and turned the vibrations halfway up.
You squeak in surprise and whimper into Jimin's neck, the vibrations feels so intense right now. It's too much but still not enough to satisfy you.
Your hips starts moving by themself, grinding down onto the desk to intensify the stimulation at the base of the vibrator.
Jimin curses under his breath at this erotic sight in front of him, bruised boobs jiggling in the same rythm as you grind down and without even noticing, he's rocking his own hips into your aching pussy.
His clothed bulge rubs all over your swollen folds and clit, dry humping your cunt with his dick. Your arms begin to protest, not able to hold your entire bodyweight up anymore so you let your upper body fell back onto the left free space of the desk.
"Fuck Jimin, I need more! I've been on edge since the whole morning... I need something, I don't care what it is, I just need more stimulation!", you sob while rutting your hips eagerly in a pretty sluttish behaviour against his clothed boner. You've soaked through your panties, the wet patch on Jimin's bulge is proof enough.
Your Boss is mesmerized by the sex-demon he has unleashed in you. His polite and reserved Secretary is long gone, now he has primal, sex-driven succubus, who's begging to get fucked, laid out in front of him. How in Gods name can you become even hotter and sexier? That's insane?!
"If you'd stop fucking yourself onto my clothed boner for at least a second, I'd have a change to get your panties off", chuckles Jimin and gives you a demanding slap on your naked thigh.
You may be whining which is caused by the loss of friction but you still your hips as Mr. Park told you so.
"Such a good Girl, Y/N.", he praises you as soon as he holds your pair of panties in his hand. The feeling of the wet fabric underneath his fingertips alone makes his cock twitch in his cage. He has to wait nevertheless, Jimin has to take care of his needy Secretary firstly.
"I guess that you own enough pairs of panties, so it wouldn't hurt if I keep this thoroughly soaking one and take it home, right?", your Boss informs you with a filthy smirk and shoves the tiny piece of arousal drenched cloth into his pocket. He will defintely have some fun with this soiled panties tonight.
In this moment you couldn't care less that you won't have your panties anymore when it's time to go home, now you only care about if your pussy and ass will get some more attention anytime soon!
"Please, Mr. Park... please hurry up! I can feel my juices dripping down to my asshole!", you complain and spread your thighs even more, looking up to Jimin with pleading eyes.
"Oh Baby, you're so impatient. Seems like I have to train you a little more in the future until you've learned the worth of waiting. Now come, grab the undersides of your thighs and press your legs up to your chest. Yeees, exactly like that! Very good."
Your breath quickens, you feel awfully exposed under his hungry and lustdrunken gaze but being this bare and vulnerable sends another wave of pleasure to your lower regions. Your pussy clenches around nothing as the thought, that you both forgot to lock the door and someone could burst in the room anytime, crosses your mind. It doesn't scare you, it just exites you even more. Maybe you should finally admit to yourself that you're a slut for exhibitionism...
Fuck, if he won't pay enough attention to his own cock to control himself, Jimin would cum untouched in his pants like a 15 year old teenager just from the sight of your bare, glistening cunt.
Without leaving your pussy out of his eyes, he grabs behind himself and pulls your chair into the back of his knees and let himself fall into the seat. He pushes himself forward and pulls your ass to the edge of the wooden board until he's close-up with your delicious folds.
"Babygirl, don't be shy and give me a hand down here. Show your Boss your little sexy treasure and spread those swollen pussy lips for me so I can see all your delicacies~", wispers Jimin against your clit in a bittersweet sing-sang voice.
His breath and his request leaves you trembling in pure need, you don't own any shame in the fibres of your body anymore and reach down between your legs without hesitation.
"Here, Mr. Park. Please look at my bare, exposed pussy in all details. Do you see how my clit twitches in need and how my pussy hole clench around nothing? Do you see how badly it needs to get stuffed by a fat cock like yours?", you whimper and move your V-spreaded fingers up and down, alongside to your clit to get some kind of friction.
Your Boss growls at your teasing words and decides for action over words. Without any other warning he dives right into your pussy, pushing your thighs with his own hands even more up to your chest and make you scream so loudly, that you could probably hear it down the hallway.
Jimin literally feasts at your cunt, slurping all of your juices greedily up and sucks gently his way down at your outer lips and leaves you crying out for more. Sadly he won't listen to your pleads, rather moves on in his own pace and test your patience with torturous slow tongue strokes.
Here some licking, there some nipping and sucking some love marks on the insides of your thighs from times to time.
Slowly you realize on what kind of edging Sadist you laid your hands on, you don't dare to think about what other things he could do to you. It drives you insane that Jimin doesn't pay just one single second of attention to your clit, leaving your swollen pearl completely neglected from all the caresses.
Your whole body is quivering and out of nothing a sobbed yell is filling the quiet room. Jimin, this bastard didn't give you any warning that he'd turn the vibrator on the highest level. Your rim is clenching around the plug as if your life depends on it and your untouched clit is throbbing in despair.
"Jimin- Mr. Park, I beg you... please, please let me- make me cum! I am so close, I can't take anymore teasing!", you snivel while big tears are rolling down your cheeks. If you just knew that your Boss is the personification of devil...
"You're already that close to your orgasm? I barely touched your pussy until now... such a sensitive slut you are. If you can't take edging then you have to take overstimulation.", states Jimin with a sadistic smirk and gives your clit a few spanks.
You didn't thought that slapping your clit would feel this good, maybe you just imagine that it feels that way because your pearl gets finally touched. Jimin pinches your sensitive boundle of nerves mercilessly between his thumb and index-finger and you can't stop howling out for more and rutting your hips up into his face.
After some time he leaves your tortured clit alone and lets his hand moves down to your ass, fingers around the base of the vibrating plug.
"Relax your ass for me, Babygirl. Gonna fuck that asshole with this plug while I continue to eat you out. I want you to cover and soil me in your juices."
Your previously closed eyes are within a fraction if a second wide open and a silent scream flees out of the back of your throat, taking your soul with it. This is insane, this man between your knees is completely insane! As crazy it might be, you still love everything of it and you'll take all of the things he gives to you.
A satisfied and appreciation hum comes from inbetween your legs, it seems like as if your ass has already some experience with this procedure. If you play often with your ass when you're at home? Do you drill a big dildo into your stretched asshole and finger your pussy at the same time? Jimin decides to ask you that later.
Your wrinkled entrance shows barely any resistance when he pulls the toy out and push it right back into its place again, swallowing the whole thing effortless.
With a devilish smirk on his face Jimin focus his full attention back on your clit and sucks it right between his sinful lips. His fast tongue toys pitiless with your engorged pearl, sending endless waves of electric shocks through your veins. But sometimes he can't resist the urge to tease you a little more and pulls the vibrator out to circle your puffy rim which is clenching hungrily for the plug.
You're so close, so incredibly close but whenever you think you're about to reach your climax, Jimin pulls away and fucks your hole with his tongue. He only shows you some mercy when you pulls so roughly at his hair that he thinks you might rip him a bundle of hair out of his scalp.
It doesn't takes you long at this point, three intense sucks at your clit are enough to make you see the stars and all possible colours of the sky. Your chest heaves up and down quickly, trying to get some urgently needed oxygen into your burning lungs. A pained whine finds their way out inbetween your breaths, the buzzing vibrations lets your ass cramps up in overstimulation. Jimin is fast to understand you without any words, grabbing the remote-control and turning the vibrations off, then discards the toy completely from your quivering body.
"Fuck, that was absolutely..."
"wild? Insane? Sex-tape-ready?", chuckles Jimin equally breathless and offers you various options to finish your sentence.
"Honestly, all of that. Fuck, that was so good, Jimin. Since two years nobody else exept myself gave me an orgasm in general and not even I could make me cum in that level of intensity!", you voice out loud and give him an almost shy smile.
Jimin is a little taken aback by your confession, you've been single since two years? He could have you since two fucking years?!
"I am glad to hear that I did such a good job, Princess. Besides that, I think we have plenty of time now to make up for that long period of your sex-abstinence. ...not to ruin the post-orgasm bliss but I am seriously afraid that my dick might fell off soon if I can't fuck you in the next five minutes...", answers Mr. Park you with sheepish smile and scratch his neck.
Your eyes widens in shock at the realisation that he hold himself back the whole time while he pleased your greedy body and that his cock still waits impatiently to get finally freed.
"Oh God, oh God, yes! Let me help you to open your pants!", you shout and fumble at his belt buckle in hectic. It only takes you a moment to free him from his suitpants and the precum-stained boxerbriefs until you hold the Definition of a beautiful cock in your hands.
Jimin is neither too short or too long, he's sporting a dick in an average size but with an impressive girth. He has indeed the fat cock you've talked about and it makes you drool just from the sight. Aside from that, on top of his length sits an angry red and leaking mushroom-shaped cockhead and seems to yell at you to take care of him.
"Fuck, Mr Park... you own a really delicious looking cock... what would I give to have a chance to wrap my lips around him and let you fuck my throat until I choke...", you praise him with an approving smirk and give him a little wink.
Jimin groans at your words, rubbing a hand through his face and shoots you a deadly glare, squeezing the base of his cock.
"As tempting your filthy suggestion might be, I'd rather come back to your offer on an other way. Right now I'd prefer to fucking ruin that drenched pussy of yours!", he growls into your earshell and reproves you with a short slap on your cunt. You giggle playfully and looks into his eyes with faux innocence.
In the exact same moment as you reach out to grab his cock, he pulls away from you and makes you pout in frustration. He snorts at your behaviour and shakes his head before he points to the door, that leads to his own work office.
"God, you're so bratty and impatient! You'll get your cock soon enough, just give me a second to get a condom from over there. And yes, before you ask... I 've kept a box in my desk-drawer just a precaution when I'd ever get chance to fuck my cute and sexy Secretary next door!", he shouts back into your direction as he walks casually, with his hard dick out and bouncing up and down, over to his office.
Why the fuck is this man even able to make you gush out even more juices just by getting a condom?!
Jimin returns to his previous position in between your wide open legs with a lazy smirk, condom already rolled down his rock hard, swollen cock. You see it twitch in exitement when Jimin's eyes fall one more time to your messily leaking pussy.
"Hmm, look at this pretty little cunt, so wet and messy for my fat cock. Nuh, nuh, nuh! Don't say anything, you'll get fucked in the next three minutes, stay patient for at least once!", he shushes you with a warning, dominant glare.
With this statement you shut your open mouth again and accept his order with a little nod. Then you have to wait or you'll get no cock at all today.
Your Boss hums in content and pushes your legs in the right directions, so he can slot right in without problems. Then he grabs his cock at the base and pushes it lengthways inbetween your glistening folds, let it slide toturously slow through your pussy lips and coats the condom thoroughly in your overspilling arousal.
"Yeees, that's good! Soak my cock in your juices, little slut!"
You mewl and squirm pathetically under Mr. Park but don't dare to complain out of impatience and greed again.
The lower lip is the victim of your teeth, biting down on the plush flesh to suspress a begging whine whenever his mushroom tip nudges your oversensitive clit. Sweet Baby Jesus, you need to get dicked down really badly.
"Awww, as we can see here you can actually behave, Princess! YOU did good after you stressed around so much. That needs to get rewarded, don't you think? Relax yourself, I'll going to preach you now, yeah?", he comments with a satisfied smile and positions himself in front of your quivering entrance.
"Tell me when it's too much and I need to stop, yeah?", he reminds you with a honest look in his eyes. God, you could smootch him right here and right now to Thank him for his attentiveness!
You respond with a quiet 'Yes' before you let your head hall back again onto the hard wooden desk. Your muscles will hurt like shit tomorrow, that's for sure.
Your tiny moans join Jimin's prima groans as he pushes himself inch for inch deeper into your burning hot heat.
You've seen the girth but now you experience first hand how fucking thick this man's cock truly is! It doesn't hurts you until now but with every inch he sinks deeper into your cunt, the slight burn intensifies.
Both of you groans in relief and satisfaction as Jimin finally bottomed out in you. Beads of sweats are falling down from Jimin's forehead onto your chest, the man hovers panting above you.
"Jesus fucking Christ! You could have warned me that you have an exessive clenching habit! It either feels like as if you want to squeeze my whole cock out again or as if you want to milk my balls dry as soon I've entered your sweet cunt!", groans your Boss and bites down into one of your nipples as an equal revenge for all your squeezing.
"A-Ahhhh, I know, I know! I am sorry but you feel so damn fucking good, I can't control it! Please, just fuck me finally!", you defend yourself with a weak voice and hold onto his trained shoulderblades as if you're about to drown in your own Lust.
Jimin can already feel that he won't last long if he hold still like this and decides to pound that pussy so roughly that you'll problably forget your own name!
Soon you realize that this cock is your go-to-ticket for heaven, even you can't fuck yourself that good with your dildos, no matter if you practices constantly the last two years. That dick is a gift, sended from God! He stretches you in all the right places and Mr. Park just had to correct the angle of his cock a little bit to make you see sweet heaven within seconds by abusing your g-spot without mercy.
Jimin has the same thoughts about your pretty pussy, she makes him loose every sane thought, slowly killing him with her tight grip.
Obscene slapping and squelching noises are joining your pathetic wimpers and Jimin's feral grunts, filling the room with a so filthy melody.
"Fucking fuck, Y/N, stop clenching like that or I'll blow my load in the next three seconds!"
Actually, Jimin isn't mad at you for clenching so insanely good, he's pissed at himself that his usual pretty good stamina seems to be non-existent today.
"I-I'm clenching so much because I am so fucking close again, fucking hell! Don't you dare to stop now, I need to cum so damn badly!", you almost yell with tears in your eyes back and meeting Jimin's hips halfway, fucking yourself greedily down at his cock.
That knowledge calms his nerves a little bit, at least it wouldn't end in a premature ejaculation desaster then.
Jimin builts his upper body up just to part his lips to let some spit drip down onto your pussy, right on top of your clit. He smirks awfully dirty at you as he hears the trembling mewl leaving your lips. Fuck, he's so nasty, so filthy and so incredibly hot!
"It could never be wet enough down here, that's why I added some spit as extra lubrication.", he explains non-chalantly with a chuckle and spreads his saliva with his thumb all over your clit.
That is too much. That's defintely too much now. Your body has enough.
You don't know how often Mr. Park actually circled your clit with his digit, the only thing you know is that you came embarrassingly quick from those simple touches. A high-pitched cry of painful pleasure and overstimulation flees over your tongue as your body quivers erratically.
If Jimin wouldn't hold your hips down with an iron grip, you'd have squeezed him out of your protesting pussy. Thankfully he managed to remain inside your cunt, that intense, almost unbearable squeeze showed him hell and paradise at the same time.
That in combination with your satisfied, orgasm-blissed face becomes his death sentence. A guttural yell, which comes out of the depths of his chest, cuts through all the walls nearby in the same moment where he fills the condom with a huge load of his thick cum.
Jimin's arms cannot hold him up anymore after this exhaustion, so he ends up collapsing very gracelessy on top of you. An equal non-lady-like snort comes from you as you look down on your Boss, who's face is squished in between your boobs. You feel his playful grin against the skin of your right boob which makes you giggle even more.
"We need to work on your clenching-habit if you want me to fuck you longer than just a few seconds... You don't have a normal pussy, you have a milking machine down there!", Jimin jokes around as he looks down to the place you're still connected and sends you a teasing wink when he raises his eyes to your face again.
You giggle sheepishly, you know more than well what a gorilla grip your pussy gets whenever you're close to cum.
"If you'll help me, we will find a solution for that.", you respond to his critique and return the flirtatious wink. As soon as the orgasm dopamine rush has ebbed away, you feel all the muscles of your body ache and a groan in pain leaves your mouth.
"Can we please fuck in a bed the next time? My body is killing meeee!", you whine in a very overdramatic manner.
"You said, you wanted to get fucked on the next flat surface nearby, unfortunately it was your desk.", retorts Jimin unimpressed and without any sympathy for you. He's busy anyway with pulling his softening cock out and throwing the used condom away.
"But yes, I agree. A softer base to lay or to sit on would be defintely more komfortable the next time.", he groans and pops with a stretch his spine back into place.
As Jimin still tries to get his business attire back into their old shape, preferably without too many wrinkles, you're already finished to put your clothes back into their original place.
In the moment you hop off of your desk and are on your way to the door to use the restroom, you realize that your panties disappreared. Jimin notices your frozen body and understand pretty quick why your tentatively behaviour.
"Are you searching for you panties? It's sad that they're mine now. You wouldn't like to wear them anyway, you're completely drenched and soaked. And don't tell me that I am embarrassing you on purpose, you went to work wearing sex toys several times without any shame, so it wouldn't be any different if you wear panties or not. You did this to yourself and that is the consequence now!", says Jimin with devilishly chuckle behind you.
You know, he has a point with his statement.
This goddamn sexy bastard, how much you love and hate him!
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sunshyngal · 12 days ago
生き甲斐, 'a reason for being'
Alpha Kim Namjoon x beta OC. Genre : Angst, Hurt/ Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content.
Arranged Marriage / Contract Marriage. Enemies to Lovers.
Mature Themes : infidelity ( consensual?)  , substance abuse.
[ Warnings : Adults only please. This deals with a lot of grey moral values. Like everyone is a little fucked up. And I mean everyone. Its also nothing like the sadness of things. There’s a whole lot of people hurting each other on purpose to prove a point. And  Dubious bordering on non consensual sex. ] 
Summary : The dark side of High Society Seoul . Infidelity, Greed, Lust and Power. 
For Jung Dalmi, being born a beta means one thing only : fading into the background while her alpha brothers and omega sister take up all of their parents affection and concern. She leads a simple life, pursuing a degree in marketing and looking for internships so she can finally leave her oppressive parents. But all of her plans come crashing down when a dragon eyed alpha decides to wreck havoc on her plans, and her senses. Suddenly, she is thrust into a world where she is treated like dirt, worthless and dispensable.  
Chapter 1 
“Everything in the world is about sex except sex. Sex is about power.”
Breakfast in the Jung Household was always a very busy affair and today was no different.
It was one of my father’s most important rules : Eight am and everyone would have to be at the breakfast table . No mobile phones or other devices allowed. Family and family only. My father believed that loyalty to family preceded everything else and right from the age of five, it had been drilled into our heads : family before anything , even yourself.
 I smiled a little as I climbed the last few stairs down to the foyer , noting the busy bustle as the footmen went about in the pristine black suits, fixing everything for my father’s departure to his office. The maids were already done with all the cleaning and every surface gleamed to a polished shine.
I exchanged small talk with a couple of people before picking my way to the hallway that led from the foyer out to the spacious dining hall.
The room was one of the largest in the main house, well-lit thanks to a few dozen windows with stained glass panes. The eastern wall was filled with portraits of ten generations of alphas, with a large ornate door in the center that opened into the sprawling gardens of our estate. The dining hall was always flooded with natural light, tinted pink , blue and purple from the glass panes  and on this morning,  the early autumn sun spilled onto the polished mahogany table , setting it aglow in a plethora of bright colors.
My father always sat at the head of the table, the alpha of the house and the CEO of Jung Inc., an important man and one of the five alphas who formed the Council. My father was a busy man but he considered family to be above all other commitments and hence the breakfast rule.
I fixed the collar of my blouse and made sure my hair was in place before fixing the hem of my skirt as well.  I adjusted the strap of the bag on my shoulder, before moving to reach my father. He glanced up at me with a fond smile. He looked me over, a subtle smile of approval when he realized I was wearing the clothes he’d bought for me the previous day.
I bowed politely  to my father, more habit than respect. He was a traditional man,. Through and through and it was too early in the morning to get on his wrong side.
“ Dalmi …the first to be up as usual. Its only a little past seven thirty.” He gave me a small smile , pointing at the chair next to him and I carefully placed my bag down on the floor next to my chair before sitting down .
“I woke up early. Went for a run with Hoseok oppa and then came back and did some sparring with Junsu oppa.” I said with a smile, bowing when one of the footmen brought me a glass of orange juice. My father smiled, humming gently.
“This suits you. I shall ask Jieun to order a few more sets from the same designer. Where’s your locket? ” He asked staring at my neck and I flinched. Damn it. I’d taken it off while applying sunscreen.
“ I’ll put it on before leaving father.” I said quickly and he nodded.
“How’s college treating you?” He said quietly,” Your finals are up in two months. Are you doing well? I have spoken to your dean about letting you take your finals early, seeing as the dates coincide with our little Iseul’s betrothal. ”
I sighed a bit at that. My baby sister was an omega and she would be turning eighteen in two months. My parents still followed the traditions of the older clans, where an omega wouldn’t remain unwed after eighteen.
She was all set to be betrothed to one of the Kim sons. As a beta, I didn’t much understand the hype around scents and mates and heats and ruts and mating beyond what I’d learned in high school. My sister herself was eager and excited to marry the older alpha, a good thirteen years her senior. Iseul was beautiful and a bit flighty , but I loved her deeply.
“I’ve been working hard, father and I was hoping that you would let me apply for a few internships? Everyone is applying for them. I’m not very busy now that my final project is done and-“
“No.” My father said firmly. “ Dalmi, when you asked me to let you take up a business degree I agreed under the understanding that you would not refuse a suitable marriage proposal. There is a beta son of one of my HODs . A young man with a promising future in the law firm he’s currently at. I don’t think there’s a better match you could make. I want you to meet him. Once you marry him, you may do as you please with his approval, of course. ”
I clenched my fists , trying not to let my emotions show. Only omegas are allowed to feel, I reminded myself bitterly. Only omegas would get to cry and preen and whine their way through life. My distress wouldn’t invite soft words of comfort and or calming alpha pheromones. It would only invite disdain.
Swallowing my hurt , I nodded stiffly.
“Yes, father.”
“I do not say this to hurt you. This is the way of the world. Its unfortunate that you didn’t present as an omega. But we must make the most of it.  I was hoping we could hold a small court ceremony, maybe before Iseul’s wedding. I don’t want the Kims to wonder too much about you or why you are unwed. You’re older and that may raise questions.” My father said firmly.
“Dad….!” My brother’s voice made me jump and a second later , my brother grabbed the back of my chair, tilting it back and making me yelp in surprise, scrambling for the seat to grip as he laughed.
“Oppa, stop!” I shrieked, terrified and my father growled warningly.
“Hoba! Let her go.” He said sternly.
The growl made Hoseok set the chair right and he jumped away when I made to whack his arm. He grinned and ruffled my hair before taking the chair next to my father’s.
“The consignment from Spain , were there any problems?” My father asked sternly and my brother sobered up immediately. I tuned them out as they began discussing business, distracted by the sound of my mother and Iseul arguing in the hallway as they made their way over.
“- indecent and gauche. I have raised you better, Iseul.” My mother voice rang with annoyance and it was a little refreshing, hearing it directed at someone else.  
“I’m not wearing the blue dress and that’s final. I don’t like it. At all. It makes me look like an old maid. Washed out and dreary. ”
My sister had a flair for exaggeration and I couldn’t help but grin, watching the way she sighed and huffed, lily white hands gripping her waist tight, as she pouted.
“ You’re not meeting the Kim alpha in a cocktail gown. It’s uncouth!” My mother fairly roared, the outrage in her tone evident.
“Unnie!! Help me!!” My little sister’s wail of distress made the men pause , and I watched in amusement as my little sister threw herself at me, making my mother scoff.
“Wonderful. What will your sister know about being an omega.” She said with a shake of her head, “ Dalmi , don’t you dare put ideas in her head. She’s not like you. She has a reputation to uphold and I will not have her dirtying the family name.”
I ran my fingers through Iseul’s silk black hair, gently pulling her into a hug. She smelled sweet, like coconuts and cocoa butter. She relaxed a bit into my arms, gaze soft but still holding a hint of rebellion .
“Mother doesn’t want me to wear the maroon dress when I meet Joon for the first time.” She pouted at me. “ Tell her its pretty.”
The gown in question was definitely pretty. But my mother was right. It was a cocktail gown, low cut and definitely not good for a first meeting, especially if she was trying to go for the demure and dainty look that alphas preferred.
“Mother’s right, Iseul. You can wear it once you get engaged. For now, you’re supposed to be demure .” I laughed and my sister grimaced in distaste, shaking her head.
“Its so childish . Like a little girl. He’s so much older already… He’s going to feel like a cradle robber if he sees me in that dress.” She protested. “ I want him to see me as an equal.”
The idea of my flighty, eighteen year old omega sister being CEO Kim’s equal in any way was actually laughable. But I kept that thought to myself, brushing her hair off instead and lightly stroking the soft curves of her cheeks.
“How about this? Why don’t you pick out something from my closet. Its not going to be very dressy and it’ll be in an adult style, would that work for you?” I smiled and my mother frowned.
“That would be amazing Dal-Dal!” My sister clapped excitedly and I turned to my mother who sighed in clear defeat. It was always hard for her to make a stand when both her daughters decided to gang up on her. My brother had gone back to talking business with my father and I sighed.
I had a business degree too, I thought with a pang. I would have loved to be included , to learn all about running a company but my father always kept me at arm’s length. He didn’t see things in grey. Didn’t like bending rules to accommodate me.
For him the sub genders would always be bound by rigid rules and duties and as alpha he would be the provider, training his alpha sons to take over , while his omega wife would run the household raising his daughters.
And when we came of age, we would help him form alliances that would benefit his business and social standing. My sister was well on her way, but as a beta , I presented a problem.
My father had married my mother , a pure blood omega for the sole purpose of avoiding a beta in the family. Funny how that had worked out for him.
My mother’s voice drew me out of my thoughts.
“Well, I suppose that’s acceptable.” She said finally. “ But I still want you take Dalmi along.” She said sharply.
I grinned at how worked up my mother was.
“Mom, I said I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry about it.” I said soothingly, finishing the last bite of my toast and gently patting my sister’s waist.
“When is the date?” I asked with a smile.
“Five . He wants to get coffee at the Ritz.” She smiled eagerly and I nodded.
“My classes end at three. I’ll pick you up from the salon at 4.30 PM?” I suggested, knowing she would want her make up done professionally before meeting the alpha. Iseul nodded quickly.
“What will you wear?” She asked quickly and I shrugged.
“Something simple.” I kissed her cheeks fondly before standing up and grabbing my bag .
“I’ll be leaving.” I bowed to my father and he gave me a curt nod and a smile.
“Remember what I said, Dalmi…” He warned me, “ no internships. You’re meeting the boy I told you about.”
My mother’s brows shot up .
“Boy, what boy?” she demanded and I flinched, when Iseul’s eyes bugged out too.
“Yeah, what boy?” My sister asked excitedly.
“I’ll tell you in the evening. I’m getting late.” I kissed her again before leaving the room. I ran into my other brother on my way out and Junsu pulled me into a bear hug, making me yelp. As an omega my little sister was forever handled with kid gloves so my brothers took out all of their rowdy affection on me. I didn’t mind it that much. Except for when they left bruises that just didn’t heal easily.
I grinned and pushed him off me.
“Dad pimping you out again?” He asked softly and I groaned.
“Yes.” I mumbled and he ruffled my hair.
“Hyung and I’ll take care of it. “ He winked. “ Don’t worry.”
I stared at him, hopeful.
“He’s a beta, right? Just gonna flash my eyes and growl a little. Kid’ll pee his pants and leave the country. Don’t worry about it. You’re not getting married off. Hoseok and I need you.” He kissed the top of my head and I relaxed in his arms, savoring the warmth of his embrace.
“Thank you.” I whispered.
His gaze softened.
“You’re going to stay safe with us for a long time, Dalmi I’m going to make sure of it. One day, when you meet someone you can see yourself with, and once hyung and I can confirm that he’s good enough for you, then we’ll let you go, yes? ” He said softly.
I nodded, nestling in closer and letting his warmth seep into my body. I wished with a pang that I could scent him. I could only catch a faint whiff of lemon and musk . Alpha scents were supposed to be strong and over powering and intoxicating. Iseul stayed far away from my brothers for this reason.
But maybe it was a blessing in disguise . Because like this I could bask in all the love they had to give. I knew that I was different. I wasn’t vibrant and loud, bright and cheerful or full of life. I liked soaking things in more than I liked letting them out. I didn’t smile too often and if you looked at me across a crowded room, I would rather look away or duck my head than offer you a smile. It was just who I was.
If melancholy were a person, Hoseok’s friend Yoongi had once said, staring at me with a fond smile, it would be you Jung Dalmi.
I sighed, stepping out into the warm sunshine and taking a deep breath.
It was just another day, after all.
The Kims were just as influential, just as esteemed in society as my own family.
Famously known for having seven generations of alphas with not a single beta or omega , they were kind of a household name mostly because two of the Kim alphas were famous actors. Kim Seokjin and Kim Taehyung ruled the silver screen : Seokjin as the rom-com swoon worthy alpha and Taehyung as the strong featured, action hero with a face that could start a war.
The middle son was the one who was set to take over the company though.
The Kims were fairly outspoken and open about their life , thriving in the spotlight and generally well loved . Paparazzi tailed the brothers at all times and most of the information about them was available on public domain.
Consequently, with just a few narrowed searches , I knew quite a bit about Kim Namjoon.
Firstly the physical aspect : Just over six feet tall, built like a brickhouse with sable hair that was just on the longer side. Long legs. Really long legs, I thought to myself watching my sister fawn over his photographs. He was tall but also proportional , broad shoulders and muscled arms and chest. I couldn’t help but feel my stomach clench a little at how masculine he looked.
And the tattoos.
It wasn’t uncommon . Most alphas had one , usually the crest of their clan engraved somewhere prominent like the inside of their wrists or the side of their necks. But Namjoon was inked all over, or so it looked. A full arm sleeve and a roaring dragon spanning over his back were the ones he often displayed, anytime he decided to go shirtless at a pool party or the beach.
Iseul thought it was the hottest thing in the world and I didn’t blame her.
Namjoon was known for being somewhat unconventional when it came to socializing  . Unlike his peers, he steered clear of clubs and fine dining restaurants. Instead, he was a prominent member of a number of reading clubs and charity organizations and, this was what stunned me the most : A biker’s club.
Vogue Korea had done a seven page spread on him just two months earlier and it was still on the stands . Iseul had procured one for us to pour over and by the end of the night, she was halfway in love with the man. Which was good, I supposed. She would be marrying him after all.
For all of her flighty nature, my sister wasn’t unintelligent. Far from it, in fact. She made stellar grades and had a full ride scholarship to a Degree in Education and child development waiting for her . Her classes would start in three months. She had a goal , to be a special education teacher and to build her own school for differently abled children. Iseul had a good head on her shoulder and I knew that with Namjoon’s backing she would go on to do big things for our community.
Watching her fawn over Namjoon’s body , I found my own mind drifting away.
I had a major in Business and Fashion. My father liked to ignore the fashion part of it, especially because I mainly focused on lounge and intimate wear. I wanted to start my own company some day,  place where I could customize lingerie for betas based on how they wanted to look and smell. It was a novel concept, one that my brothers had helped me patent in my third year : scented fabrics that could appeal to all three sub genders.
It stemmed from my own insecurities but I didn’t like thinking about that.
“ It’s a pity he doesn’t look as good as his brothers.” Iseul’s voice made me blink in surprise. We were in my brother’s Bugatti, being driven by his chauffeur to meet Namjoon for the first time, and she was scrolling through her phone.
“Hmm?” I asked, confused.
“Namjoon. He’s not as good looking as  Seokjin or Taehyung.” She held her phone out and I noticed it was an e- magazine.
I stared at a full page spread of all three brothers lounging on a sofa. I found myself frowning at her words because yes, the two actors were conventionally beautiful but there was no denying that Namjoon had the strongest presence there .
“He’s not ugly.” I said sharply and she rolled her eyes.
“I didn’t say he’s ugly. He’s handsome, of course he is.” Her phone buzzed and she pulled it away and I found myself glancing out , as the car began to draw to a standstill.
The hotel was posh and luxurious, intimidating in all of its grandeur,  and I peered up at the towering high raise building before my sister’s sharp little tug on my gown brought me back to the present.
“Quick…how do I look?” She whisper-yelled, grabbing the sleeves of her dress and wiggling her shoulders enough to make sure her cleavage was visible. I smiled a little at her antics.
She still looked her age, which was just shy of eighteen.
A mere child.
I grimaced, wondering what kind of grown man would agree to marry a kid. It was definitely distasteful. But alphas and omegas went by instinct and scent and I knew that ever since she presented, my sister smelled like an adult. So I couldn’t really hold it against Namjoon.
“You look beautiful , Iseul, I told you that already, you know, the seven hundred times you asked me on the way?” I teased and she groaned.
“I just want to make this work.” She said nervously and I felt a pang of sympathy for her.
“ Of course it’ll work. Don’t worry. No alpha in his right mind would screw things up with someone like you. You have the advantage.” I told her, although that was a blatant lie.
I couldn’t imagine anyone having the advantage over one of the Kims.
Namjoon was supposed to meet Iseul at a private fine dining restaurant on the top floor and I offered to wait in one of the lounges a couple of floors below. The attendants gave me a curious glance, seeing as I had come straight from college and was definitely dressed for convenience rather than glamour. The lounge was unoccupied save for a woman in a red dress, sitting with her arms sprawled over a couch. She had a half empty bottle of wine in front of her and the dark liquid in her glass told me she was nowhere near done.
I hesitated , not wanting to intrude but the moment she caught a glimpse of me she sniffled and smiled, waving lightly.
“Wow…. You look young.” She muttered and I frowned, trying to place her. She didn’t seem familiar at all. Her light grey eyes told me she was an omega. A very beautiful one at that.
She waved me over and I sighed. I had no idea how long Iseul would be caught up with her fiancé. So , maybe I could offer her some company. I wasn’t very fond of conversations in general, even less with complete strangers but she looked like she was too far gone anyway. And the eagerness in her face told me she was likely just looking for someone to talk to.
“Hello.” I said politely. “ I’m Dalmi.”
“Beautiful moon…” she crooned. “ That’s a fitting name. You’re very beautiful. But you’re a beta?”
I nodded and she shuddered.
“Lucky you.” She sighed deeply, staring away for a few seconds. “ Beta men are kind aren’t they? Kind and understanding.”
I considered that. I didn’t know a lot of beta men. Definitely not enough to answer.
“Because alpha men are jerks. Selfish greedy jerks.” She snapped.
I blinked, staring as she chugged her drink.
“Do you know Kim Namjoon?” She said suddenly.
My eyes went wide at that.
“I’m in love with him.” She said softly.
I froze. What? I frowned. What was this woman on about? I didn’t immediately trust her, because I knew how women sometimes tried to attach themselves to my own brothers, claiming them without any basis.  And at no point had Namjoon ever talked about having a girlfriend in the media.
“I know what you’re thinking… this gold digger is probably lying….  and you know…if I tell the truth , it’s what everyone will call me. A gold digger. Homewrecker. ” She shook her head in defeat. “ But I’m not. I’m just .. I’m just a woman in love with a man.”
I bit my lips.
“Does he know?” I asked gently and she scoffed.
“We’re childhood friends. Right from the time I was eight. ” She said softly. “ He’s known me for twenty years now. ”
I felt a pang of sympathy at that. Unrequited love was never fun.
“We were each other’s firsts.” She whispered. “ I let him take my virginity and he told me he loved me. That he would always love me but his duty was to his family. That he would have to marry whoever they pick. But he promised me that he wouldn’t love her. That he would never love anyone the way he loved me.” She smiled , eyes wet and glistening. “ He’s somewhere in the building right now, meeting her. Some eighteen year old kid who wouldn’t know the first thing about him.”
The bitterness in her tone made me recoil.
“I’m not going to give up, though.”She said sharply and I stared.
“I don’t want his name. But I want him. All of him. His mind, his heart and his body. All of it. I don’t care who that bitch is…. She can’t have him. ” She snarled.
“I..” I couldn’t quite process what I was hearing.
My phone buzzed just as she reached for her wine. I glanced at the name. Iseul was calling for me. I glanced at the woman in front of me, my heart racing. This felt like some kind of sign, I thought frantically. I couldn’t let Iseul walk into something like this no matter how amazing Kim Namjoon was..
The woman laughed suddenly, and this time the tears fell even faster.
“Seolhyun . Namjoon and Seolhyun forever. We carved that into the oak tree in my backyard when we-“
The woman was ranting in earnest now, voice slurring and breaking off in between hiccups and I felt torn between sympathy and anger. I didn’t really care what was going on between her and Seolhyun but I’d be damned if I let Iseul get caught in the crossfire.
What was I supposed to do now?
I swore under my breath. My phone buzzed again and I bowed to Seolhyun before moving away and accepting the call.
“Iseul , I-“
“where the fuck are you? Hurry up!” She hissed under her breath and I flinched. My sister only swore when she was truly overwhelmed. God, what a mess.
I glanced at the woman on the couch. She was flat on her face now, sobbing into the cushions. I sighed in defeat. This is why I hated Alphas, I thought distastefully. I had so many questions and they made my head spin.
There was only one person who could offer me an explanation.
The alpha in question.
When the elevator doors opened, the first thing I saw was Kim Namjoon’s back.
And the pictures hadn’t done him any sort of justice. He was a veritable giant, tall and strapping and built so big that I went a little cross eyed. My eyes caught on his hair, pulled up into a neat little man bun right at the top of his head and when he turned, eyes flashing red , I felt my knees go weak.
Kim Namjoon was …. arresting.  
Dragon eyes .
A phrase I’d read in the magazine immediately popped up in my head and I knew exactly what they meant. Looking him in the eye felt like staring down a dragon.
Almond shaped eyes that slanted just a little, perfect thick brows , a straight perfect nose and lips that looked downright obscene with how plump and shapely they were, complimented with a solid masculine jaw and angular cheekbones.
And then he caught sight of me and smiled .
God definitely has favorites, I thought with a grimace. But as always the face did not match the personality.
I bowed politely, straightening to give him a polite smile.
“Hello. I’m Dalmi.” I said quickly, bowing again.
“That’s a lovely name. I’m Namjoon.”
That voice.
I felt my lips part in a sharp tug of attraction, my body reacting so strongly that I had to close my eyes and turn away a little, unable to look him in the eye. It took me a second to remember what I’d witnessed downstairs.
He held a hand out and I shook it nervously, pulling away before he could fully grasp my palm in his. Even the little brush of his skin against mine made me ache. This was awful, I thought angrily. The last thing I wanted was to be attracted to this sad excuse of a man. But it was impossible to ignore him , his presence somehow eclipsing every other thought and feeling.  
His scent was strong and intoxicating . Too strong. It made me a little dizzy, because I couldn’t usually scent alphas this well. But Namjoon smelled like bergamot and pinewood, like rain drenched evergreen forests and the rich earthy smell of damp wood. It was so inherently male and strong and dominant that I found myself balking.
How did anyone function around this man? No wonder Iseul had sounded so desperate.
“ I’m going to go the ladies’ room.” My sister said suddenly and I finally glanced at her. She looked flushed and ….happy. My heart sped up. She liked him, I thought miserably. God this was so fucked up.
“Sure, sweetheart. Take your time.” Namjoon smiled indulgently and I frowned at the nickname. The moment Iseul went out of ear shot, he turned to me.
“Iseul told me she had a sister, she didn’t tell me her sister was so beaut-“
“Oh, cut the crap…” I whispered harshly. “ Are you in love with the woman in the lounge downstairs?”
A series of expressions flitted across his face : shock, disbelief, realization and then anger.
“What?” He snapped furiously and I rolled my eyes, poking him in the chest with my finger. Namjoon glanced down at where I’d touched him, eyes wide . As though he couldn’t believe I’d dared to lay a finger on him. I wondered if I was the first women to yell at him? It wouldn’t even surprise me.
“You heard me. Seolhyun or whatever…. She’s getting drunk in  the lounge wailing about how you belong to her. What is that about.” I demanded.
Namjoon flushed, ears turning red. He reached up and tugged on the small hair tie holding his hair up. I was momentarily distracted at the way the long strands fell around his face and I watched as he combed his fingers through the mess , eyes looking a little frantic.
“Fucking hell….that woman… Jesus…. Listen..” He turned to me anxiously. “ its no big deal.”
“No big deal? You’re planning on cheating on my little sister and it’s no big deal..?” I demanded and he swore.
“That’s … listen, Dalmi… Its not that big a deal. These things happen and your sister-“
“these things? Infidelity is not just a thing… Alpha Kim… it’s a betrayal of your wedding vows!” I snarled and he frowned.
“Keep your voice down.” He growled and I laughed.
“I’m a beta. That tone doesn’t work on me.” I said softly, before shaking my head. “ I’m telling my father.”
I made to turn away, ready to grab Iseul and storm home and tell my father at once but his hand shot out, gripping my wrist so hard that pain shot right up my arm.
“Ouch…” I yelped but Namjoon didn’t let go, tugging me around with so much force that my feet lifted off the floor for a second, my body crashing into his .
I grabbed his arm to try and steady myself and he gripped my elbows hard, shaking me a little and making my teeth rattle. I could feel the indent of his finger tips, digging straight into my flesh and my eyes watered, lips parting in pain but he didn’t relent, his gaze steady and fairly burning with rage.
“Listen here you little, snitch. This is none of your damn business. You need to keep that cute little nose out of my –“
Namjoon stepped away from me at one when he heard Iseul’s voice and I glared at him before staring at my sister . Iseul had freshened up , cheeks glowing and eyes bright. She looked absolutely beautiful.
Namjoon’s unfaithful ass did not deserve my angelic baby sister.
“Let’s go, Iseul.” I said firmly, glaring at the alpha in front of me . Namjoon looked just as incensed, glaring right back.
“Uh… is everything okay?” Iseul glanced back and forth between us, sensing the tension and Namjoon gave her a tight smile.
“Everything is just fine, right Dalmi ssi?”
I gave him a sweet grin.
“Not yet…but it will soon. As soon as I tell my father how deeply I approve of you, Alpha Kim.” I said firmly. He wasn’t getting away with this. Never.
His jaw went taut at that.
“Okay…this is getting weird. Namjoon oppa… will you come pick me up for dinner tomorrow?” Iseul asked brightly and he nodded.
“I’ll see you soon.” He said softly but he was looking at me not her.
I rolled my eyes.
So alpha Namjoon wanted to have his cake and eat it too?
Not on my watch.
And certainly not at the cost of my sister’s heart.
My father’s office was straight dab in the middle of the business district. Getting there took a long while, especially because I had to drop Iseul off at home first. So by the time the driver pulled into the parking of my father’s office building, it was already a little past eight. I was exhausted but my body fairly vibrated with anger and frustration.
I wanted to yell and scream in protest , forced to hear Iseul wax poetic about her fiancé for the long ride home. She sounded like she was absolutely smitten and I wanted to strangle Namjoon for making her believe she had some sort of chance at a happy, loving marriage with him.
I could imagine the kind of heartbreak that would be waiting for her , if she were to marry him and realize that he was in love with another woman.
I all but ran across the lobby and to the elevators , mentally rehearsing my speech .
Dad, I ran into this woman called Seolhyun. She told me that she and Namjoon have been in a relationship for years and he has promised himself to her . If Iseul were to marry him, he would likely cheat on her and that would break her heart….
I clenched my fists as the elevator doors opened, the receptionist giving me a warm smile of recognition as I bowed and moved to the corner office where my father worked.
I ran the last few steps to the glass doors, gripping the knob and opening it quickly, before all but crashing inside.
“Father, I-“ I stopped, blinking as I realized that my father was not alone.
Kim Namjoon sat in front of him, next to an older man who bore a striking resemblance to him.
My father’s gaze landed on me and I recoiled from the anger and disappointment etched into his face.
“Jung Dalmi.” He said sharply.
“Darling….you’re here.” Namjoon said softly, the chair scraping as he stood up, his eyes warm and sad and I gaped as he made his way over to me, holding both arms out.
Too stunned to react, I stayed still as he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into a hug and brushing his palm all over my body, before stroking my hair and the side of my face.
“Don’t worry, darling. I told your dad all about us. You don’t have to lie.” He said gently.
What. The . fuck.
My father’s voice made me glance at him and the look on his face chilled the blood in my veins. My father was furious. But he was clearly reining it in for the benefit of his visitors. Namjoon stepped away and I missed the warmth for one crazy second, because with him out of the way there was nothing shielding me from my father’s furious gaze.
“It pains me deeply that you thought you had to resort to deception, Dalmi. If you had mentioned that you were… seeing Namjoon, I would have spared your little sister the trouble of having her heart broken.” My father said angrily.
I stared at him, slack jawed.
“What? I’m not seeing …”
“She only lied because she didn’t want to hurt you or Iseul, Alpha Jung. Just as she was about to lie now to stop this wedding. It would have broken our hearts to live as brother and sister, knowing that we loved each other.” Namjoon said quietly.
I stared at him in disbelief. The words…the way he had twisted facts so entirely, they left me reeling in shock. Namjoon looked absolutely unperturbed, not a hint of doubt or hesitance in his stance or voice. No one in their right mind would think he was lying.  
“What are you doing?” I whispered shakily, staring at the man next to me and he turned to me with a curious little tilt of his head.
“I told your father the truth. That you can’t bear the thought of me being married to Iseul so you’ve been thinking of ways to break our engagement. That you were going to lie and tell him I was in love with someone else just so he would stop the marriage.”
I closed my eyes, grudgingly impressed by how he’d turned the tides in his favor. This is why people called him ruthless, I thought vaguely.
“I see. How…brave of you to stand up for us.” I muttered.
He smiled then, wide and cruel.
“But darling, you don’t have to lie. Your father isn’t cruel. He said we could get married. You and I. The deal would still go through, right dad?” He turned to the man in question and Namjoon’s father nodded.
“We may be old but we’re not tyrants. Its unconventional yes, a beta and an alpha but if you two have deep feelings for each other I can’t make you marry someone else, Joon-ah. I’m not a bigot. If your happiness lies with Dalmi, I won’t object. It would be cruel to keep you away from each other.”
Namjoon smiled down at me.
“Yes. So cruel.”
My father cleared his throat.
“I… We may need a few weeks to change all preparations.  But with a little money I think we can keep the betrothal on schedule.” He said quietly.
Too stunned to even process what was happening, I could only stare.
“Please give us a minute .” Namjoon said , quietly . Our fathers nodded and I flinched when he grabbed my arm, pulling me away from the office and onto the hallway. When the door closed behind us he turned to glare down at me.
“What are you doing?” I whispered, staring at the man in front of me.
“I told you to keep your cute nose out of my business. I’m not losing out on a multi billion dollar investment because of your misguided sense of loyalty to your sibling.” Namjoon whispered under his breath. He looked almost gentle , his lips curled in a cruel smile but his eyes fairly burned with triumph.
I exhaled sharply, my body going taut with fury. I’d never wanted to punch someone so bad.
“ I’m not marrying you.” I said softly. “That’s not going to happen. ”  
He smirked a little.
“You will if you want your little boyfriend to keep his job.”
My heart leapt up to my throat.
“What?” I choked out.  What was he talking about?
“Park Jimin? CEO of JM Entertainment? The agency where both your brothers are signed? Room no. 589 in Hotel Selene? Ring a bell? That’s where you like meeting with him don’t you? Always booked under a false name ….always booked by the hour. ”
I swallowed. How did he know about Jimin? My throat went dry.
“Don’t you dare-“
“Oh, I dare.” He said sharply. “ I fucking dare, Jung Dalmi. You’re going to act like a crusader for marital fidelity, all while screwing a married man? I don’t think so.”
“That’s different. He.. He’s not happy in his marriage and-” I said sharply. Namjoon scoffed.
“Really? Let me guess, because the woman you’re both screwing over is rich, entitled and cruel. Is that the lie he fed you? Told you all about his terribly abusive wife who doesn’t love him or care about him …who only cares about his bank balance… ? What else did he tell you? That the only way he could ever be comforted was by crawling into your bed? Did you let him fuck you so he can forget all about his terrible marriage? ” He snarled.
“How did you know about him?” I asked quietly, heart racing. We were discreet. Incredibly so.
Namjoon shrugged.
“I didn’t. I thought it was your sister , at first when I heard that Jimin was screwing around with a Jung . She seems more like his type. “ He gave me a disdainful once over and the insult, stung, “ But when I saw how genuinely interested your sister is in me, I realized it wasn’t her. It was you. You’re not fooling anyone with that holier than thou act, Dalmi. ”
I wrapped my arms around myself. There really was no way I could get any sort of leverage here.
“So what? We just get married and ….do our own thing.” I swallowed.
“Discreetly. I don’t care who you let between our legs as long as it doesn’t make it to the news.”
“Fine.” I snapped. “ Jerk.”
“A jerk who’s going to mate you in three weeks time.” He said softly. “Know what that means, Dalmi? Know what happens when an alpha mates someone? How much it can fucking hurt? ” He stared at me, jaw taut and lips thin .“ Go ask Park Jimin .”
“How long had this been going on?” My father demanded arms folded over his chest as he glared at me. Next to him Iseul stood still, face white as paper. She looked stunned, eyes shining with betrayal and it hit me that this was going to break our relationship. I had to tell her the truth . I had to make her realize that it wasn’t my fault.
“You’ve ruined your sister’s life. I hope you realize that.” He said firmly and I bit my lip. I couldn’t say anything , nothing without making matters worse.
“This is unheard of.” My mother looked stricken. “ She’s not… She can’t marry him. She’s a beta.”
My father rolled his eyes.
“Apparently, that’s not something they considered before fooling around with each other.” He shook his head, “ its all immaterial now . Alpha Kim has made it clear that he wants the wedding to go through. We’ve already signed MoUs and I’ve purchased enough shares to get Hoseok on the board there. Now that you’ve started this mess, there is only one way to fix this, Dalmi. You make this marriage work. No matter what.” My father said firmly.
“Hoseok’s going to work for Namjoon?” I asked faintly, my heart dropping.
My father nodded.
“It would be good for him.”
“the man’s a tyrant. My son deserves better.” My mother sniffled. My father growled at that and my mother immediately dipped her head, recoiling away.
“Namjoon’s been in the business for a decade.” He snapped, “ He knows the ins and outs of the world like no one else and if Hoseok acts smart, he can become a partner someday. You know that right?” He demanded and my mother immediately ducked her head.
“Yes , alpha.” She said meekly and I felt sickened. Was this what Namjoon expected me to be like? Was this what I would be marrying into. I wanted to vomit all over the carpet, my skin going clammy at the thought of being forced to yield my autonomy like that.
My mother held on to her control over the small things, like the clothes we wore , the food we ate, the parties we went to because it was the only thing she was allowed to control : superficial, meaningless, frivolous things that held no value beyond the moment.
And Namjoon would probably want to do the same thing to me. Turn me into some kind of quiet little mouse who would look the other way while he did whatever he pleased.
Well, he could try , I thought bitterly. If Namjoon was going to browbeat me into marrying him only to turn me into some kind of trophy wife,  I would make his life hell and I would do it with no remorse.
“You’re not going to ruin this for me, Dalmi. I want you to meet up with Yoongi’s sister. She’s the one planning the whole wedding and I want you to do everything she asks you to. Is that clear? Tomorrow you and I will go meet your professors and talk about you attending classes online. Kim Jaehyuk mentioned that they would want to hold a claiming ceremony in a few days. We’ll make it public then. Once we release an official press statement, you can’t be running around unaccompanied.”
I stared over him at my sister who was beginning to move away.
“Iseul. Can we talk?” I called out and she stopped.
“Now you want to talk?” She asked bitterly and I exhaled shakily.
“Please.” i begged and she turned away. My father watched the little exchange and sighed deeply. 
“Iseul, I think whether you have it in your heart to forgive her or not, you must consider that if you are openly hostile to your sister in public, the media will pick up on it. Sort it out, the two of you.” My father said sharply before dismissing us with a wave.
Iseul scoffed before walking away to the door and I had to run to catch up.
Out in the hallway leading to the terrace, she stopped and glared at me.
“If you wanted a knot so bad, you could have just told Dad. He would have got an alpha for you.” She said sharply. I felt the words like a slap to my face.
“ Iseul, I’m still older . You can’t speak to me this way.” I said shakily and her lips wobbled.
“I told you all about how I felt about him. Were you laughing at me the whole time?” She whispered.
“Iseul I’ve never met or spoken to Kim Namjoon before today. That is the truth.” I said softly.
She shook her head, laughing.
“You expect me to believe that?” she demanded.
“He’s in love with someone else.” I said sharply, reaching out to grab her wrists, tugging her closer. “ I met the woman in the lounge in that hotel and she told me how he was going to keep seeing her. How they were in love since they were kids…and I just… I didn’t want you to get hurt!” I whispered.
Iseul stared at me for a few seconds.
“How did that work out for you?” She asked quietly.
I blinked, shocked.
“So he wanted to fuck someone on the side after we got married… so what? What’s the big deal?” Iseul demanded.
It’s not a big deal, Namjoon’s words echoed in my head.
“ You knew.” I breathed, in disbelief. “ You knew he was with someone else.”
Iseul stared down at her feet.
“Yes. I knew. He told me.”
“When?” I asked quietly.
“Three weeks ago.”
I felt my head spin.
“I… Iseul…”
“Don’t . Don’t look at me like that. You’re in no position to be feeling sorry for me because between us two I’m not the pathetic one. You are!”
“Why would you agree to something like this?” I asked quietly, ignoring the lash of her words.
“Because it doesn’t matter. I don’t want him. I want his name. His money. Can you imagine how many doors would be opened to me if I had his name next to mine? I could do anything I wanted.” She whispered. “ He would have funded my school. I would have made a whole lot of difference in the world.”
I pulled away from her wrapping my arms around myself.
“Why.. Why didn’t you tell me?” I whispered.
“Because I knew you’d react this way.” She snapped.
“Well, forgive me for caring about your heart!” I said sharply and she laughed.
“Heart? What heart?” She shook her head , “ He wants my body so he can have an alpha son to carry his name. I want his money so I can do what I want to. That’s all this is. That’s all marriages are. A exchange of commodities. But now, I wonder what you’re going to do. Not like you can take him… He’d break you in two.”
“He won’t touch me.” I hissed, skin crawling at the very idea of it.
“You think you have a choice?” She rolled her eyes. “ Watch his family demand a child on the morning after your marriage.  Its how it works. Bet you didn’t think of that when you tried to take what was rightfully mine.”
“You don’t believe me.” I said softly. “ you don’t believe I don’t want this.”
“I don’t.” she said shortly. “ I don’t think anyone would, to be honest. One look at you tells us that you’re desperate for approval. What better way to get it than by landing the most eligible alpha in the city?”
“ That’s enough.” Hoseok’s low growl from behind me startled both of us. Iseul’s eyes went wide. She scoffed again staring at him with resigned anger.
“Oh look, yet another person you stole from me…” she whispered, giving me a bitter little smile . “ Hello oppa… here to comfort the sister who just got dumped?”
“Iseul….” Hoseok warned, loud and imposing and she laughed again, shaking her head.
“Of course not. You’re here to comfort and hug and coddle the backstabber. Typical.” Iseul shook her head, before turning on her heel and walking away. I watched her leave, shaking a bit when Hoseok wrapped his arms around me.
“Baby? You alright?”
“Are you really going to work for him? Please don’t.” I whispered softly . Hoseok chuckled, lips brushing my ear before he pulled me around to look at him.
“Don’t have much of a choice there. Dad wants me to.” He said quietly.
“I hate him. I… He lied. About everything.”
Hoseok sighed.
“I figured as much. But you can’t really blame him. This deal…Its worth billions. Bad blood between dad and the Kims would bring the economy crashing down. You know that…”
I stared at him.
“So what, he can just lie his way to get what he wants.” I demanded.
“He probably saw it as damage control. You telling father about Seolhyun would have ruined things for everyone involved. Our dad can be a bit … conservative with these things and there was a lot at risk.”
I glared at him.
“So now you’re on his side?”
“I’m not. I’m on your side. If he hurts you I’ll punch his face in, boss or not.”
I turned away.
“So I just agree to this.”
“Our little sister has her priorities set straight.” He said quietly and I turned to him.
“you heard her. Namjoon’s money and name would open doors. And she’s bitter because it won’t be for her. But it would be , for you.” He smiled.
“what are you saying?”
“I’m saying that you should take a leaf out of her book.” He grinned. “ Put a dent in his bank balance. Make him realize you’re not easy to ignore.”
The hotel room reeked of sex .
I sat leaning against the headboard, fingers curled around the cigarette as I took a long drag . The smoke filled my lung, warm and noxious but oddly soothing. I wasn’t addicted per se, but stress made me crave them more often. I exhaled gently, watching the fumes appear than dissolve into the air. I was naked, legs stretched out before me, my thighs still painted purple and yellow from where Jimin had gripped them hard as he fucked into me.
Next to me Jimin sat with his laptop opened to wedding gifts , scrolling casually.
Jimin was a beta although no one would ever guess, seeing the way he carried himself. He could stare down alphas with no problem and ran his company with an iron fist. I knew that keeping Taehyung and Seokjin in line must’ve been a whole horror but Jimin did it with ease. He was handsome, incredibly so and the lithe strength in his body was obvious. He also had the stamina of a horse and our lovemaking sessions usually ended with me unable to move a single muscle without wincing.
Today had been particularly rough, what with me blurting out about my betrothal before I could stop myself. Jimin had looked stunned for a second, before using his necktie to restrict my wrists behind my back, fucking my mouth and making me ride him till my legs gave out. By the time he slid into me from behind I was half unconscious and he fucked me through three bone melting orgasms before finally relenting and letting me go.
My body felt like I’d been run over by a truck but the physical exhaustion helped calm the turmoil in my mind and my heart.
“Would you like a toaster or a trip to the Maldives?” He asked casually and I groaned, taking another long drag of the smoke.
His hand shot out gripping my chin hard and yanking me closer till his lips were right over mine. My eyes widened and I relaxed gently pressing my lips against the plump softness of his , just a light brush with a little space for him to inhale, letting the smoke flow from my lungs into his. He breathed in deep, eyes fluttering shut as he hummed.
I shuddered when his thumb dig in harder into my chin.
“Are you getting annoyed with me, pet?” He murmured gently and I flushed, shaking my head quickly.
He laughed.
“You going to forget poor Jiminie once you start hanging on that alpha’s knot?” He whispered and I swallowed, jaw beginning to ache when he dug his thumb into my cheek.  
“Ungh..nuh..” I choked out, cheeks aching.
He grinned.
“You better not. Knot or not, you belong to me. Yes?” He kissed me softly, tongue licking into my mouth and tracing mine. I relaxed into the kiss, letting him pull me onto his lap , his laptop pushed to the side. I whimpered when his fingers moved down to trace the swollen folds of my puss, rubbing back and forth in deceptively gentle strokes. I clenched around nothing and he laughed.
“Look at you…fucking hungry for it, aren’t you?” He licked into my mouth again and I gasped when his fingers entered, three of them at once. He curled his fingers, wrist twisting a bit so he could rub deep inside and I felt the pain in my belly intensify.
“please.. hurts…. Jimin…”
“What hurts? The fact that I’m fucking you with my fingers? Or the fact that it isn’t my cock?” He laughed and I shuddered when he pulled them out only to grab his cock, the soft flushed head of his length brushing my slit now.
“go ahead, baby. Sit on my cock for me.” He kissed my forehead gently and I felt my legs shake as I sank down on him. I loved how he felt inside me and I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, burying my face in his neck as I gently moved my hips , up and down and up and down.
His phone rang making me jump and I yelped, making to get off but he smacked my ass, hard.
“Stay. And keep your legs open and your mouth shut.” He said quietly and I bit my lips.
“Hello? …. Yes, Leah. I’m in a meeting…” He reached down rubbing his thumb against my clit.” Yes, just found out a contract’s ending. I’m just re negotiating to get it renewed.” He smirked, pinching the swollen nub hard and I had to bite my lips to keep the sounds in. Leah was his wife. I stayed seated, scared to move and make some sort of noise.
“I’ll be home late. Don’t wait up for me. …” He finished, hanging up soon after and I flinched when he hung up and hit my thigh.
“Did I tell you to stop moving?” He demanded and I glared at him , petulant.
“You’re never going to break it off with her, are you?”
“Darling, that point kind of becomes invalid now, considering that you’re getting married yourself….” He said softly and I sighed as he rolled us both over so he could push into me properly. I stared at his face as he fucked me, the slow drag of his cock inside me making my head swim.
“It’s unfair.” I whispered.
“That we can’t get married ? Look at all the marriages around us. Your parents , mine. Nothing to recommend. Trust me…this is more real than any man made institution. Marriage is for poor people who want some semblance of stability.” Jimin kissed me gently. “ its not for people like you and me.”
“I love you.” I said softly and he cooed, kissing me again.
“I know , darling. I know. ”
“ What the fuck is wrong with you, noona.?” Namjoon snapped , shoving Seolhyun into the couch and she grinned.
“ Joon ah you were the one who told me to ruin the blind date for you.” She pouted and Namjoon groaned.
“that was one time. I didn’t mean do it every damn time. How did you even know I was there anyway?”
“Seokjin. But tell me… what’s wrong? Don’t tell you wanted this one to work.”
Namjoon sighed, staring at the wall thoughtfully.
“No… I just didn’t expect her father to agree.” He sighed. “ But doesn’t matter. I have the investment and I have Jung Hoseok. That’s what matters.”
“And what about the girl…iseul wasn’t it?”
“No… Not Iseul. Dalmi. Her sister”
“Oh…?” Seolhyun looked surprised. “ The one I talked to. That’s a twist.”
“Yes. The one you talked to. You understand what that means? You’ve gotta keep up the act. Turn up every once in a while and act like you’re in love with me.” He smirked.
Seolhyun groaned.
“She’s Park Jimin’s mistress.” He said softly. “ That little bastard has her wrapped around his finger.”
“ More like his cock.” She laughed. “ He’s insatiable.”
“Oh, yeah I forgot you used to date him.” Namjoon mimed vomiting.
“Ugh, don’t remind me. So what are you going to do?”
“Jimin’s getting bolder. I need to keep an eye on him. I think for all he acts indifferent, he cares about this girl. I could use her as leverage for the future.” Namjoon said thoughtfully and Seolhyun grimaced.
“I hate how calculative and cruel you are. Do you not even care that she’s going to be your wife?”
“Care about what? All I care is that she keep her legs closed and not embarrass me .” He sighed, standing up and stretching.
“You’re different these days.” She whispered. “ Are you still….upset about her?”
Namjoon stiffened.
“I don’t want to talk about that.” He said softly.
“Namjoon,  you know she had to leave.” Seolhyun said softly. “ Her brother needed her.”
“Well, so did I.” He snarled. “ I would have… Fuck I would have followed there if she would have let me. But she didn’t. Just disappeared from my life like it was nothing. Like I was nothing.”
“Joon ah…”
“Forget it. I don’t want to talk about it. Wherever she is, I hope it was fucking worth it.” He stormed away and Seolhyun watched him with a sad face.
Somewhere thunder sounded and the air grew thick with the scent of rain on the way. 
Its going to be one hell of a storm, she thought absently, staring out the window at the steel grey clouds  as she wrapped her coat around herself, getting ready to leave. 
There was a storm brewing  and she could only hope to get herself somewhere safe before it hit. 
Author’s Note :
Yes, there’s one hell of a storm brewing. 
I’m so excited. Are you? Let me know what you thought. 
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fightmechimchim · 5 months ago
BTS Scenarios - They react to your touching habit.
Genre: Fluff
Warnings: None (unless you’re uncomfortable with butt touching)
Word Count: 3421
Kim Namjoon:
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‘’Why do you always do this? You have pockets too.’’ Namjoon jested, nodding towards your hand that was currently occupying the right pocket of his jeans.
‘’My pockets are crap. Look how tiny they are! You can’t fit anything in them.’’ You whined, using your free hand to grip at the useless fabric, only pretending to be a functional pocket.
Namjoon chuckled, watching your lips curl in frustration as you continued to criticise your incompetent jeans.
‘’You can buy new clothes.’’ He suggested, which earned him a roll of your eyes. He often felt that these kind of things were simply beyond his understanding.
‘’It’s just not that easy to find clothing with properly sized pockets,’’ you answered, pouting. ‘’And besides, maybe I’m just subtly asking for you to hold my hand,’’ you cooed while shaking your hand inside his pocket.
‘’Oh?’’ Namjoon wondered, looking down at your hand buried deep inside his spacious jeans. A softness encased his features, and he immediately reached inside his pocket to take hold of your hand. He pulled out your intertwined hands from his pocket and began swinging them back and forth at your sides. 
The day was cold, but Namjoon’s warm hold was enough to warm you from the toes up. You grinned as you made your way towards a peaceful little café you both liked to visit.
After getting your drinks and leaving the café, you glanced at Namjoon walking in front of you. A sly smile crept on your face. You ran up to him, careful not to spill the drink in your hand, and slipped your free hand in the back pocket of his jeans, giving his precious behind a loving squeeze. Namjoon startled and almost dropped his drink. He looked at you over his shoulder and began chuckling in embarrassment. You admired the soft pink layering his cheeks.
‘’Uh, you won’t find my hand in there,’’ he quipped with a playful glint in his eyes.
‘’I know.’’ You winked, and he laughed aloud, leaning in to kiss you.
Kim Seokjin:
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Dragging a chair to where Jin was seated, you sat down and lifted your legs so you could place them on his lap. He gave your legs a gentle squeeze before resuming with his game. Five minutes later, your chin was on his shoulder as you toyed with his earrings, and in the next five minutes, you were practically sitting on him as you traced the veins on his hands. You played with his fingers, traced his knuckles, drew circles on his fingertips, and even brought his palm to your face to feel his warmth whenever he freed his hand away from the keyboard.
‘’Are you bored?’’ He asked, glancing at you swiftly before looking back to the screen. The corners of his mouth lifted in a small smile. He’s been very well aware of your actions, finding them immensely adorable.
‘’No, are you?’’ You yawned, poking at his cheek, he pretended to bite your finger, and you pulled it away with a giggle.
‘’I’m not bored, but you always play with my hands when you’re bored,’’ he informed you absent-mindedly while his gaze shifted through the content on the screen.
‘’I didn’t notice. I just love your hands, I guess,’’ You uttered, continuing to idly stroke his fingers.
Jin chuckled, his eyes glowing with tenderness, ‘’I’ll quit playing, and we can do whatever you want,’’ he said and closed the game.
‘’No, it’s okay, you can keep playing,’’ you protested and tried to take the mouse, but Jin closed his hand over yours.
‘’I need both of my hands to play, and I can’t play if you keep groping me,’’ he laughed, poking at your sides.
‘’I wasn’t groping you!’’ You chastised him, but he only laughed.
‘’Okay, okay, how about we do something else…’’ He said suggestively, winking at you. You rolled your eyes, slapping his shoulder lightly.
‘’Later, let’s just cuddle for now?’’ You said, taking his hands in yours, urging him to stand up with you.
You laid down in bed and immediately intertwined your limbs with his in an escapable hold. After some time of peaceful quiet, you found his hands and began playing with them once more. 
‘’Is cuddling boring for you?’’ Jin asked, faking irritation, which made you laugh.
‘’No, I didn’t lie when I said that I love your hands,’’ you smiled, pulling his hands to your lips where you planted plenitude of kisses along his knuckles to prove your point. You felt his chest vibrate as he laughed, but he let you resume, and soon enough, you fell asleep, hands intertwined and hearts full of love.
Min Yoongi:
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‘’What’s on your mind?’’ Yoongi asked, tilting his head to look at you.
‘’Hm?’’ You tensed, staring at the back of his neck where your hand rested, and your fingers pulled at his hair, delicately so as not to hurt him.
‘’Something is on your mind, isn’t it?’’ Yoongi asked again, leaning back on his chair. He lifted his head to look at you, who stood right behind him. You turned your gaze to his loving eyes and tried to smile.
‘’Nothing,’’ you mumbled, shifting your gaze to his computer screen where an array of boxes, whose language you were unfamiliar with, sat occupying the time and attention of your hard-working boyfriend.
‘’You sure?’’ He probed gently, but you just shook your head. He took your hand away from his neck and turned around, silently inviting you to sit on his lap. You accepted and immediately melted into his embrace as he hugged you. He set his chin on your shoulder, and you turned slightly to give him a brief kiss on his temple.
‘’I miss you,’’ you said, giving in to the nagging feeling inside your chest. His comforting touch was an irresistible key that was bound to unlock every strand of thought and emotion hidden inside you.
‘’I’m right here, though,’’ he said, smiling softly into your shoulder.
‘’I know, and I’m probably just being clingy but staying at home sucks, and I just want to be around you all the time… is that bad?’’ You confided with him, letting your thoughts stream into the air, hoping they won’t awaken the insecure voice inside your head.
‘’No honey, I know how you feel,’’ Yoongi spoke softly and brushed his lips across the side of your cheek.
‘’You do?’’ You asked, turning to face him.
He nodded and leaned in to press a reassuring kiss on your lips, slowly as if he had all the time in the world to cherish you. You smiled, and the longing in your began to settle.
‘’Do you want to go home?’’ He suggested.
‘’You still have a lot of work to do, don’t you?’’ You said, looking over his computer.
‘’There’s nothing I can’t finish tomorrow. I don’t want to worry you anymore,’’ he smiled, reaching to caress the side of your face.
‘’I’m not that worried. You don’t have to leave for me…’’ You pouted as a snip of guilt found its way into your gut.
‘’You always play with my hair at the nape of my neck when you’re worried about something, and that’s enough to let me know you need me,’’ he said, glancing backwards at your hand, which somehow found its way to the back of his head again. You let go of the soft strands that tangled between your fingers and looked at him sheepishly.
‘’Thank you, Yoongi,’’ you beamed, hugging him, happy with the content peace that settled over you both.
‘’I don’t want to get up anymore,’’ you giggled.
‘’Me neither. Do you just want to sleep on the couch?’’ He said, as you looked over at the small couch in the corner of his studio.
‘’Yes,’’ you smiled.
‘’It might not be comfy,’’ he reminded.
‘’It’s okay, you’re a great pillow,’’ you chuckled, poking his tummy.
‘’Is that all that I am?’’ He teased, poking you back.
‘’Of course not, you’re the love of my life,’’ you said, kissing him on the forehead.
‘’I’m honoured,’’ he grinned, his gummy smile making an appearance.
‘’The honour is all mine,’’ you laughed, dragging him to the small couch where you laid your head on his chest and relished the feeling of Yoongi’s fingers brushing through your hair.
Jung Hoseok:
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You eyed the numerous sheets that littered your desk, heart sinking with every unchecked paper that glared at you. The harsh light of the computer screen has been burning your eyes for the past hour, and you no longer had any strength left in you to work through another few minutes. Your head was pounding, and your joints ached.
Stepping away from the table, you made your way into the kitchen in search of your boyfriend. Despite the soreness in your muscles, you did not protest against the steps that took you closer to the warmth of Hoseok’s figure standing at the kitchen counter making you dinner.
You circled your arms around his waist and rested your cheek on his back. The warmth radiating from his skin seeped into you, and you relaxed against him, turning your head to set a multitude of lingering kiss on his shoulders. You felt him shake as a leisurely chuckle sounded in your ears. You hummed in pleasure, feeling his hands rub soothing circles along your arms that rested on his stomach.
‘’You okay?’’ He asked, trying to turn around.
‘’Mhm, just don’t move please,’’ you whispered into his back, and he stilled. He continued to caress your hands which you shifted to pull him closer to you.
‘’You’re warm,’’ you remarked, eyes closing.
‘’Are you cold?’’ He asked, pulling your arms tighter around him as if to give you more of his heat.
‘’No,’’ you smiled despite the headache.
‘’You put too much pressure on yourself. You need to rest and take better care of yourself, or at least let me take care of you.’’ Hoseok spoke, and despite your protest, he turned around to face you. Your arms remained circled around him, and he gently cupped your face stroking your cheeks as if he could wipe away the exhaustion eating away at you.
‘’I don’t even do that much work, no matter how long I sit at that cursed table, it seems like nothing gets done, and no matter how hard I try, I just can’t get the results I want,’’ you sighed, dropping your forehead to rest on his shoulder.
Hoseok reached his hand to gently lift your chin so you may look at the sincerity in his eyes when he spoke, ‘’hey, you’re the most incredible person I know, and I know you put all that you have into your work even if you don’t think it’s enough. I can see how much you care, and I wish you could see just how much I admire you for all that you do. You should admire yourself too.’’ The softness of his voice was enough to invite the heap of tears that have been welling up inside you. Not worrying about shielding your stress from him, you let yourself cry.
Hoseok tugged you closer to him, engulfing you in his arms as he murmured loving words to you. He let you cry for as long as you needed, and once you sniffled past your last sob, you thanked him.
‘’How do you always know what’s wrong with me?’’ You croaked out, your throat thick from crying.
Hoseok smiled, placing a kiss on your cheekbone.
‘’I realised that your way of seeking comfort when your upset is by giving me a back hug and showering me in kisses,’’ he said, petting your head as you gazed at him.
‘’I’m glad you noticed that,’’ you whispered, feeling warmth swell in your chest.
‘’Let’s eat and go to sleep, okay?’’ He wiped away the wetness underneath your eyes and planted one more affectionate kiss on your lips. You nodded and followed him to the table set for you to eat, thankful that you always had him to care for you. 
Park Jimin:
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The click of the lock had you springing from your seat and rushing to the door to greet him. Jimin was barely a foot in the house before you embraced him in your arms and nestled your face in the crook of his neck, and heaved in a deep breath. You missed him all the way from his scent to the press of his hands on your back.
‘’I missed you too, angel,’’ he smiled into your temple before setting a soft kiss. The feeling of his lips on your skin, the sound of his voice fluttering down your back, and the tenderness of his arms around you had you pulling him even closer to you with aching effort. If Jimin felt smothered, he didn’t show it. He was more than happy to be swallowed by your embrace.
You did not care for time as you stood with him in the narrow hallway, simply adoring the feeling of his body so close to your own. You began brushing your nose back and forth against his neck to soothe the ache that’s been haunting you ever since Jimin left for tour.  
‘’Is something wrong?’’ He asked, pulling you away gently to gaze at you. Concern lined his eyes, causing something to stir in you.
‘’What? How did you know?’’ You looked at him, startled that he caught on when you didn’t even give him a chance to see your face before tackling him to a hug.
‘’You always brush your nose against my neck when you feel upset… just something I’ve noticed over time,’’ he explained, a smile gracing his beautiful face.
‘’Oh…’’ You blushed, glad to welcome back the familiar stammering of your heart that only ever appeared when Jimin said something to make you feel loved and noticed.
‘’I just missed you… It feels good, to finally feel you close,’’ you said, reaching to stroke his cheek. He leaned into your touch with a bright smile and pulled you back to him. You felt him bury his face in the crook of your neck, and soon enough, the gentle touch of his nose, brushing against your neck back and forth, warmed your skin. You laughed, glad to finally have him home.
Kim Taehyung:
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‘’I’m going to get something to eat from the kitchen. Do you want something?’’ You asked your boyfriend, nudging him with your foot, where he sat in front of the computer playing video games.
‘’No, I’m good,’’ he murmured, completely mesmerised by whatever was happening on screen.
You hoisted yourself from the bed and set a chaste kiss on Taehyung’s cheek before leaving the room. Frustrated exclamations followed you out, which made you laugh.
After finding some snacks, you trudged back to your room, eyes glued to your phone screen where a random video stole your attention. You sat on the bed, snacking while continuing to scroll through random posts.
‘’Are you mad at me?’’ Taehyung asked suddenly, and you almost dropped your phone, surprised to see him peering at you from the foot of the bed.
‘’Huh?’’ You asked, confused. Taehyung looked at you cautiously and then slowly glanced towards the kitchen.
‘’Did I forget to wash some dishes? Did I leave the fridge open? What did I do?’’ He asked, inching closer to you, each question leaving you more confused. 
‘’No? I’m not mad at you, Taehyung,’’ you giggled at his unconvinced expression.
‘’You called me Taehyung,’’ he said, pointing at you accusingly, ‘’you are mad at me!’’ He exclaimed, standing up and rushing to the kitchen.
‘’I’m not mad at you! What are you talking about?’’ You yelled after him, and eventually got up to follow him into the kitchen.
You saw him standing there, turning in circles as he scratched his head.
‘’What are you doing?’’ You approached him and placed your palm on his forehead to check for temperature. He took your hand into his and stared at you deep in thought while you raised your eyebrows in silent question.
‘’If you’re not mad at me, then why didn’t you kiss me?’’ He asked, tilting his head in wonder.
‘’Kiss you?’’ You repeated, bemused.
He nodded before explaining, ‘’you always give me a kiss when you leave or enter the room,’’ he said, pointing at random parts of his cheek and the top of his head where you’d usually place a kiss. ‘’And you didn’t kiss me when you came back from the kitchen… the only time you don’t do it is when you’re mad,’’ he finished. You stared at him in bewilderment.
‘’I do that?’’ You asked, feeling humoured by a habit you never noticed you had.
‘’I didn’t realise, but don’t worry, I’m not mad at you,’’ you chuckled, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek, parting away with a loud ‘mwah’ sound in exaggeration. He smiled, taking you in his arms.
‘’Now take back that other part,’’ he said, eyes beaming with delight.
‘’What other part?’’ You questioned.
‘’The part where you called me Taehyung! I’m not Taehyung. I’m honey, babe, or love,’’ he exclaimed, offended though a smile bloomed on his face.
‘’Oh, okay, sorry I take it back, honeeyyyy,’’ you laughed while exaggerating the word.
Taehyung raised his eyebrows as a playful gleam flashed across his eyes. You ran before he could tackle you and start tickling you, although it was futile. Not even a minute later, you were begging for mercy as sounds of laughter rang from your room. Taehyung had you pinned on your bed, his hands travelling up and down your sides, demanding that you never call him Taehyung again. 
Jeon Jungkook:
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The heat of the morning sun was slowly but incessantly burning your cheek, and you whined for Jungkook to close the curtains so you could continue your slumber. After some time, the sun was still heating your face, except this time it was accompanied by someone poking at your forehead.
You open your eyes begrudgingly and met Jungkook’s gaze. He was watching you sleep with a soft smirk shaping his lips.
‘’Good morning,’’ he whispered, brushing his fingers through your hair. You sighed at the sensation but then frowned.
‘’Why didn’t you close the curtains when I asked?’’ You whined, stretching your legs underneath the warm blankets.
‘’You didn’t ask me,’’ Jungkook chuckled huskily, still not fully awake.
‘’I thought I did… maybe I asked you in my dream,’’ you yawned, biting down gently on Jungkook’s finger that he tried to slip inside your gaping mouth.
‘’Babe?’’ He asked, poking your forehead once again. You hummed in question.
‘’We need to talk about something,’’ he said, looking at you sternly. You opened your eyes wider in question, and Jungkook flipped the covers off of your bodies despite your protests that it’s cold.
‘’Look,’’ he said, directing his gaze to where your hand was… on his ass, where it has been sneaking to all night, and no matter how many times Jungkook pushed it away, he always woke up with it right there. You laughed, squeezing his behind as Jungkook just rolled his eyes and pulled your hand away.
‘’You’re welcome?’’ You teased him while poking at his butt.
‘’Why is it that every time I wake up, your hand is always there?’’ He asked, taking your hand in his own, giving it a playful shake.
‘’Well, why do you have such a nice butt?’’ You retorted back, trying to slip your hand back to where you had it, but Jungkook quickly rolled on top of you, pinning your hands to your sides.
‘’No more butt touching,’’ he said, failing to sound serious as a rumble of laughter escaped your lips, causing him to laugh as well and release your hands. You took that opportunity to place both of your hands on his behind, securing him against you.
‘’Hey!’’ Jungkook protested, trying to wiggle out of your hold. You only laughed in joy.
‘’Don’t pretend like you don’t like it,’’ you teased, squeezing his butt once more. He groaned in response, but his lips were stretched wide in a smile. He laid his head down on your chest and began to hum, and soon enough, the both of you fell back asleep. When Jungkook woke up an hour later, cuddled next to your side, he found that your hand never moved away from his behind. He could only laugh because you were right, he absolutely did not mind waking up with you like that.
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pffbts · 2 months ago
Hii ! I love your work SO much, yours so talented and your writing is really inspiring me to do it too ! I also have a request can you do a small Jungkook fluff but slightly smut about him being in love and needy for y/n ? 🖤
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genre―fluff; suggestive smut.
characters―jeon jungkook x female!reader | no supporting character.
author`s note―sorry for the delay, anon, i was just out of touch with the writing side of my brain but nevertheless, i hope this wait was worth it, i wish you a very happy read :)
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[11:38 AM]―jungkook sits behind you, he watches everything that you do and don`t do.
his eyes have been following your every single movement since you came out of your washroom, wearing that flimsy white cotton maxi dress that reaches just past your knees and whose strings adorn each of your shoulder.
as you sit with your back facing jungkook on the floor, his eyes slightly widens as he realizes that he could, at that moment, if only he squinted his eyes a tad bit harder, can make out the whole of your back through that piece of clothing.
the curves of your back and the most tantalizing thing obviously was whenever you lifted your arm up, he could clearly see the side of your breast. even without touching, he knew they would be the softest thing to touch and kiss in this world right then.
jungkook shakes his head as he realizes that he was simply getting dunked into a glass of lust like a biscuit in tea. he closes his eyes for a moment and takes in a deep breath and proceeds to exhale, all in a soundless manner.
nevertheless, he tears his gaze off of your back. he thought you would probably notice his eyes burning holes through your back at any second now if only he continued doing the same.
other than his eyes that tried their hardest to look anywhere other than your back, the table fan that was right in front of you had its own purpose and that was to dry your hair. the towel that was previously hanging off of your neck now rested on your lap but as his eyes travelled up, they suddenly caught onto something they could focus on and that was those one or two water droplets dripping down your shoulder-length hair.
jungkook`s eyes followed their travelling path. he watched that one single water droplet slipping through the side of your neck, then trailing down to your scapula and then end up getting absorbed into the dress.
he couldn`t really pinpoint what made this tiny little act so attractive but as if his body had a mind of its own, jungkook shuffled closer to you.
somehow in his head, he wanted to be just like what that piece of cloth just did to that drop of water. he wanted to rather suck in that minute droplet than let that damn cloth steal it. it was funny if it was thought in a rational way but right at that moment nothing seemed rational to jungkook, he was completely drenched in the feeling of lust.
it had bubbled up to his throat and if he opened his mouth, he thought maybe someone can steal a glance of the foaming of it.
he proceeded to press your back against his chest while wrapping his fairly worked out arms around your waist and soon he felt the weight your peaks over his thumbs. his palms, they lay pressed against your stomach as he plopped his chin over the same side of the shoulder from whose neck that single drop of water made him tempted enough to hold you like this.
being very much aware of your own stomach, as soon as you felt jungkook`s arms snaking around your waist, you sucked in your belly. at this point, this is just a habit which although you try to shake off these days after watching those personality boosting slash body positivity videos, for some reason, some habits are harder to shed off than said to.
jungkook, though, he noticed what you did and he wasn`t a tad bit fan of it.
so as soon as he saw what you did, he spoke up for the first since you had come out of your bath, “did you just suck in the tummy that i love to cuddle every night?”
his pout was so palpable in his voice that it made you tug your lips in and muffle out a small laugh, “i…it`s just,” you wanted to laugh it off but you knew this is a question that you`ll have to face more often because jungkook isn`t going anywhere and he doesn`t seem like he`s going anywhere until he gets his answer.
he`s probably going to hold you tighter now if you don`t answer him or maybe he might proceed to do something that might fluster you―as always, it`s hard to predict him sometimes.
but if only he gave you that chance to speak because as soon as you opened your mouth to answer him back, you felt his own mouth against your neck.
and it wasn`t just the feel of his mouth that gave you a shiver, you could almost if your head wasn`t just playing a game, felt the tip of his tongue giving a tiny kitten lick on the place he kissed you. it felt like he was sucking on that place but very softly, like a feather against your skin while his right hand moved up slightly to brush against one of the soft peaks on your chest.
you turned your head a little to meet with his eyes travelling up from the place he just did whatever that deed he did.
“________,” your name slips out of his mouth in a breathy whisper and it felt like it came out of the deepest part of his throat. your eyes widen a bit as his breath falls over your mouth but before he continued to speak anything further, he plants a kiss on your lips.
naturally, you close your eyes at the feel of his warm mouth against yours but it doesn`t last long or maybe that`s what you think because, jungkook, he unwraps his arms from around your waist to place the palms on your shoulders to make you turn around and face him.
all the while, he kept his eyes on you and made sure yours were on him too. he didn`t really want much from you except for you to lie down against the carpeted floor and to just let him adore you like he wants to. he just simply wants to make you realize how extremely beautiful you are when you don`t even try, when you don`t even notice the little things that you unconsciously do, make his heart do backflips inside his ribs and bring him to his knees.
as he pulls onto the cushion that he was holding onto few minutes ago to place it under the back of your head so that you don`t feel the hard surface of the floor and feel uncomfortable, he now lays you down completely while hovering on top of you.
“jungkook…” you tried saying only for the so-called man on top of you now to hush you down with his mouth pressing yet another kiss onto your own.
your hands unconsciously reach onto his shoulders and proceeds to circle around his back as jungkook`s arm that was supporting his whole body bucks in only for his chest to meet with your own.
you feel him hiss under his breath as his chest comes in contact with the soft peaks of your own.
“_______,” he calls out your name again, and you were not going to lie, it sounded good every time he says your name like that, in that breathy tone as if he`s begging for something from you and every time you`re just simply painfully unaware of what it is. the only thing you could do is cup one side of his face and try lifting up your head to press a kiss against his jawline.
“i love you,” you say, as the back of your head lays back against the cushion.
at least, you said something. maybe that`s the only thing you could do to answer to everything he`s asking for then.
jungkook`s eyes trembled a bit as he realized what you just did and without thinking he dove into the crook of your neck and earned back a giggle pouring out of your mouth as he did so. his chest heaved as sudden adrenaline burst open into his system.
he kissed your throat, the side of it, your collar bones, the part of your breast that was peaking out of your clothes and then he presses trails of kisses against your neck till he reached to your ear and tugged at it only to gain a sharp intake of breath from you.
his hands, shamelessly, travelled down your side, proceeding to lift up that flimsy cotton dress of yours and started caressing your thighs. but his fingers were yet to find the spot he loves the most and that`s the lines of your stretch marks that are rooted from your hips.
you close your eyes as you felt his hands against the part of your body you don`t find his hands most often but as soon as you understood that his fingertips were following the pattern of your stretch marks, you became extremely self-aware of yourself and proceeded to tightly grip onto his upper arm―as if to halt his actions, which was meaningless because as soon as you hinted at it, you heard jungkook`s voice against your left ear, leaving a shiver down your spine and goosebumps unhidden from him.
“i wish you could trade your eyes with me now, _______,” his nose brushes against the side of your cheek while he presses a soft kiss against your closed lid before continuing, “i wonder if you`re looking at yourself in the mirror these days because,” his mouth which founded the tip of your nose to give his undivided love next, “i love and adore,” and then, he rubbed his lips side to side against your forehead, just above your head to then press against it a hard kiss.
seconds seemed like minutes and minutes seemed like hours as you could only feel the movement of his mouth at the cost of his breath washing over your face, you feel him go down as he continued, “every,” kissing the upper lip, “single,” then at the corner of your mouth, “part of,” latching onto the lower lip, he opened up your lips with his tongue and proceeded to do something that you couldn`t for the life of you, imagine him doing and that is to breathily exhale out a “you.” into your own open mouth.
your eyes shoot open as you inhale deeply only to discover him looking at you through his lashes and his own open mouth still hovering on top of your own.
and then he did something which made you end up ending into a fit of giggles.
life with jungkook is unexpected which basically is proven too many times at this point.
his hand which was still resting on your thigh, right on top of the place your stretch marks were evident quickly travelled up only to tickle your sides and made you squirm under him.
both his and your laughter filled up the whole room as you heard the rain yet again hitting against the cobblestones of your backyard.
you kept telling him to stop in-between your giggles and although he did listen to you at the end, he also pulled you up from the floor onto his lap. squealing at the sudden display of his strength and being completely flabbergasted as it absolutely didn`t match with his evident bunny smile and scrunched up nose splattered on his face like beautiful decorations, you proceeded to cup his face in your hands.
jungkook only smiled and looked into your eyes as if there`s no other thing in the world that fascinates him the most right then, as if he only adored as if the smell of petrichor lingers only around you which he loves the most. his eyes glistened and when you notice the glee in them, you give him a small peck on his nose tip.
he only scrunches his nose further and presses his lips against yours as soon as you pull yours back from his nose.
“i love you,” he says, this time with his voice clearer and it sounded as if that`s how truth always sounds like while his hands which were resting against the now exposed skin of your legs as your dressed previously hiked up from suddenly getting pulled up by jungkook, moved around to wrap themselves around your whole body.
jungkook leaned into your embrace and rested his cheek against the place right above your right chest. he cradled you in his own strong, protective embrace while your hands caress his board back and feel the muscles flexing underneath your palm as he rocks you back and forth.
few minutes passed and he continued rocking you in that position until you fell asleep with your cheek resting on his shoulder that night.
but even after laying you down and then bringing back a blanket from your room to cover your body up, he kept himself by your side until he, himself felt like almost dozing off right then at the sound of the rain.
and thus, both of you ended up sleeping in the living room while the table fan kept you guys from getting hot chills at night. jungkook remained pressed against you till the daybreak came in to greet you and every single time you woke up in your sleep because of your light sleep pattern, you felt at ease every single of those times because jungkook was always there to hold you.
seems like even in his sleep, his arms knew no one but you to hold onto in this world.
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taetaespeaches · 6 days ago
“Don’t ever write a cypher about me, I’ll cry.”
yoongi x reader (oc) genre: angst; fluff word count: 3.6K
a/n: Hi lovelies! Here’s part 2 to “I’m not walking out on you” in which Yoongi and reader/Kid get into a pretty major fight. This takes place that same night and the next day. I hope you all enjoy and thanks for reading! :)) 
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Sleep doesn’t come too easy for those with the weight of two aching hearts inside their chest. The throbbing of your own heart, you could handle. But knowing you were the cause of your lover’s pain sat heavy in your mind. The look of regret, hurt, defeat that was etched across Yoongi’s features was impossible to shake, hovering over you like a sleep paralysis demon of your own creation.
Your tears had stopped since you shut yourself away in your bedroom, but the regret was all the more deep and unsettling. At the sound of the washing machine beeping on the other side of the door, you rolled onto your side, facing the wooden barrier that kept you from Yoongi. You were so sick of walls, but it was all that you knew.
Lifting yourself from the mattress, you began tiptoeing across the room to move the bedding to the dryer. You couldn’t sleep anyway. However, when you carefully pulled the door open, not wanting to alert your boyfriend of your activity, you were stopped in your tracks, the air leaving your lungs as you remained completely still. Peeking through the slightly ajar door, you watched as Yoongi transferred the sheets from the washing machine to the dryer.
He didn’t hear the door open, appearing oblivious to your presence. And perhaps that was why he wasn’t more careful in concealing the sniffle that sounded in the hallway, the small fragile sound stabbing your heart. When he raised his arm to his face, using the sleeve of his hoodie to wipe across his cheek, there was no mistaking the emotional state of the man. Yoongi was crying, and it was your fault.
Feeling as though you were going to be sick, you quickly but quietly shut the door, hiding away behind the barrier once again. You should have stepped into the hallway and faced the man you loved, but your cowardice always seemed to win. Instead, you stood frozen, your back pressed against the wood, your jaw clenched, and your eyes filling with tears once again.
If only you had known that the click of the latch registered in Yoongi’s ears, the man turning to see the door closed. However, he knew you were just on the other side, he could feel your presence. Yoongi had stepped toward the door, raising his arm and nearly knocking before deciding against it. Maybe you wanted space, maybe you didn’t want to see him. Sighing, he started the dryer before returning to the couch, all while you leaned against the door wishing you had the courage to step outside.
As you remained restless in bed, you couldn’t help but think about how you had ambushed Yoongi. You could tell that as far as he knew, you and him didn’t have any issues. Replaying the fight in your head, the interaction with him earlier in his studio, the past couple weeks, you realized he was completely oblivious to how you had been feeling. How could the fight ever be fair if he had no indication of any problems? And to bring up his mistake from nearly a year ago that you knew he regretted, whether it still hurt you or not, was cruel.
You left him defenseless; the man who always lowered his defenses when it came to you.
Curiosity and your undeniable pull to Yoongi getting the best of you, you found yourself in the hallway, headed toward the living room where he was sleeping for the night. With how still everything in the apartment was, you worried for just a moment that maybe he had actually left, despite his promise not to walk out on you. You wouldn’t even blame him if he did. However, you caught a glimpse of the messy hair that sat atop his head where he rested against the arm of the sofa, once again reminding you of how foolish your misguided accusations were. Of course he didn’t leave.
Stepping closer to him, you carefully peeked over the top of the sofa to see him lying on his back, his mouth slightly ajar as he slept, his arms folded across his body as though he was trying to secure as much warmth as he could. More than ever you were regretting the fight, wishing you could wrap your arms around him and let him use up all the body warmth you had to offer.
You were surprised to find him sleeping so soundly, as he usually couldn’t find slumber when his mind was busy processing stress or conflict. His exhausted state made you feel even more guilty as you realized how little you took his current workload into consideration when targeting your attacks at him. And that’s when you realized that even more than you expected him to be late for your date that night, you wanted him to be. Because then it would validate your anger without you having to discuss how you had been feeling. It was a fix all, a get out of jail free card; finally release the anger that had been building up over the past two weeks and then move on. What you didn’t consider was the casualty you turned your boyfriend into. Nor did you expect the insecurity you still felt from the start of your relationship to surface. There was a time, one single time, when you didn’t find Yoongi asleep on your couch after a fight.
But he was there now. And you needed to find a way to let go of the past, forgive, and move forward together.
Lost in your thoughts and revelations, you were suddenly pulled back into the present moment when the dryer beeped to signal it had completed its cycle. Jumping in start, your eyes widened as you stared at Yoongi, hoping he wouldn’t wake up and catch you watching him. Frozen for just a few seconds, you waited for any sign of consciousness before quickly backing away and heading for the dryer.
Reaching into the machine, your arms were shrouded with the warmth of freshly dried blankets. Glancing over your shoulder at the sofa, you pouted, remembering how cold Yoongi looked. Without a second thought, you found yourself approaching Yoongi once more, comforter in hand. Stopping in front of the couch, you peered down at him and prepared to drape the warm blanket over him.
However, you spotted one of his yellow notepads stuck between his arm and abdomen, full of words that he must have scribbled down before falling asleep. It was lyrics, no doubt, and normally you would have read over the words with great curiosity and appreciation for Yoongi’s lyrical talent. But with the previous events of your evening with Yoongi, you felt as though that would be an invasion of privacy. Or maybe you were worried you would find harsh words about yourself, though realistically you doubted it. Whatever the reason, you gently tugged on the notepad, freeing it of his grasp before setting it aside on the coffee table, along with the pen that rolled onto his stomach.
As carefully as you could, you set the blanket over his frame, tucking it in just slightly around him, not wanting to wake the man. Satisfied with your work, you stepped back and glanced at his features, ensuring his eyes were still shut, his mouth still open signaling a deep sleep.
His cheeks were so soft and plush, his facial structure so delicate. You could stare at him for ages but you worried the unspoken love and regret that was screaming within your heart and mind would wake him. But for just a moment longer, you inspected his features, appreciating the soft gentleness that was always so present within them. If only you could be more like him. You were certain the world would be so much kinder, considerate, and serene if more people could embody the stunning nature that was your boyfriend. Yoongi had never once lashed out against you in the way that came so naturally to you. You wondered if he knew how much you appreciated that about him. Even when angry, he was always so gentle.
Sighing, you forced yourself to leave him to sleep, returning to your room where you would continue to ruminate on the mistakes that you wish you could take back.
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You didn’t know at what point you had finally succumbed to sleep but you did know that Yoongi was the only thing on your mind when you slipped into a state of slumber. Consciousness came slow at first, your mind hazy as you took your time piecing together the elements of the new morning. And then it came fast, anxiety crashing through you as you recalled the events of the previous night and realized you’d have to face Yoongi.
The sound of rummaging from outside the room alerted you that your boyfriend was awake and moving around. A part of you wanted to stay locked away, safe within the walls of your bedroom. But a larger part knew you had to emerge and try to fix the damage you had caused. Instinct and habit were battling it out with growth and trust, and you knew which you had to choose.
Emerging from your self-made cell, you sheepishly made your way toward the kitchen where the sounds of action were coming from. The smell of food cooking suddenly flooded your nostrils and when you turned into the kitchen, you found Yoongi standing at the stove as he prepared breakfast, two awaiting plates set to the side. Why was he cooking for you?
As you entered his peripheral, he turned to you, his eyes wide, his features as gentle as ever. The tension was palpable, but the slight upturn of Yoongi’s mouth helped to cut it just slightly.
“Thanks for the blanket,” he spoke to you, your heart racing at the minor interaction. Nodding at him, he returned his gaze back down to the contents within the frying pan. “Did you sleep ok?”
Scrutinizing him slightly, you stared at him as he tossed around the egg mixture, his eyes not lifting as he patiently waited for your response. “Not really,” you admitted quietly, Yoongi’s sweet orbs meeting yours once again. How could he look at you with so much understanding after last night? He should be angry and bitter, lecturing you on your behavior.
The man silently turned to the coffee pot, filling one of your mugs before adding some milk and sugar, fixing it just how you liked it. The simple gesture had tears pricking your eyes because after everything, he was still caring for you. Because he wanted to.
Walking toward you, he held the steaming ceramic cup out to you, forcing a small smile of gratitude from you. “Thanks,” you whispered as you took the coffee from him, holding back tears that Yoongi immediately noticed.
“Kid,” he whispered with a frown just as you directed your misty eyes to the contents of the mug, suddenly finding the tan coloring of the liquid fascinating. “Hey,” he called for your attention.
“I’m sorry,” you mumbled childishly. “I don’t know how to do this, I don’t know how to-” you cut yourself off as a tear fell to your thumb, your hand wrapped around the warm mug. “Why are you being so nice to me?”
“What do you mean?” Yoongi asked, stepping toward you and placing a hand to the back of your head. He dipped his face into your eye line, forcing you to meet his gaze. “I love you.”
The three words served as a reminder and an explanation, as if his love for you meant he wouldn’t want to treat you with anything but kindness. And that was new. Foreign. And overwhelming.
When he leaned forward to press his lips to your forehead, it all felt even more confusing but you were grateful. Grateful for the respect and compassion he dedicated to you, even when you didn’t feel deserving.
“You don’t know how to do what?” He asked softly, his lips ghosting over your skin.
Pulling away from you, he looked into your eyes. Yoongi was someone who was always a bit awkward with eye contact, struggling to maintain it for too long even with you, and that’s when you realized how hard he was trying to break through your walls. The man was pushing himself outside of his comfort zone in hopes of pulling you out of yours, so you could fall into him like a safety net. He wanted to be that for you.
“You’re supposed to be mad at me or giving me the silent treatment or something and I just-” you shrugged as Yoongi’s eyebrows pulled together as though he was studying you. “It feels like you’ve already forgiven me and I don’t know how to do this without the anger or feeling like I have to grovel for your love.”
The man shook his head instantly, a pout forming on his pretty lips. “You never have to grovel for my love, who taught you that, Kid?” He asked sadly, his empathy washing over you and your past. “I just love you,” he told you for the second time that morning. And as your heart pounded against your chest, Yoongi’s hand found your lower back. “We do this by talking about it. With understanding and accountability. So will you sit at the island and talk to me while I finish cooking us breakfast?”
You had never had a safe place to land, making you believe you were meant to fly, never staying in one place for too long. But Yoongi was giving you that place to land, to rest, to find shelter. Nodding at him, he gave you a small close mouthed smile, one of those ones that pushed his soft cheeks up in just the way you loved. His hand slowly dragged around to your side before sliding off your hip as he headed back to the stove. And you followed, taking a place on one of the stools, setting your mug on the island as you watched Yoongi appreciatively.
“I’m sorry for leaving in the past,” he started, your eyes popping wide open, not expecting for him to initiate the conversation there. “I’m sorry for not fighting for you, and I’m sorry that still looms over you. I had hoped that you were able to move past it but I understand the impact it made and the precedent it set.”
“I wasn’t holding it over you,” you interjected, not wanting him to think that you were hanging onto his mistakes to use against him. “I didn’t even know it still hur-” you cut yourself off, feeling guilty for bringing the word hurt into the discussion.
“It hurts you, Kid,” he looked up from the pan as he spoke. “You can say that.”
“It’s just when that happened it reaffirmed at the time everything I knew to be true about love, you know? Like, it’s fleeting and within an instant it can be removed,” you explained.
“I understand,” he nodded. “And you shouldn’t feel guilty for being affected by my actions.”
“The same can be said for you,” you pointed out, a small smile curving on Yoongi’s lips.
“Touché ,” he lightheartedly commented, making you smile in return. “But you were feeling rejected, Kid. That is on me.”
“No, because I never vocalized anything,” you disagreed.
“I should have known,” he mumbled, expressing disappointment in himself.
“Are you a mind reader?” You asked him, making him stop his inward spiral as he stared at you. “I should have told you so much sooner how I was feeling. I didn’t. That was immature of me.”
Taking a moment to think, the man shook his head at himself. “I still should have never made you feel rejected,” he said, defeat evident in his tone.
“Yoongi,” you sighed. “Baby, sometimes I worry that you make so few mistakes in our relationship that you get this standard of perfection thrown on you, and that’s not realistic. You’re going to fuck up, I’m going to fuck up, I don’t want it to be the end of the world when that happens.”
Stunned by your words, he stared at you with widened eyes, his jaw slightly opened, appearing almost frozen in place. Closing his mouth, he cleared his throat before wetting his lips just slightly, his tongue lingering in the corner of his mouth as he sorted through his thoughts.
“I just don’t want to hurt you,” he admitted softly, your lips forming into a pout as tears formed in your eyes.
“I know that,” you assured him. “Yoon, we had one of our biggest fights last night where I gave you my worst and since then I’ve caught you finishing my laundry and cooking me fucking breakfast, and you’ve been nothing but sweet to me, and- do you know how incredible that is? How much that means to me?”
Yoongi blinked quickly, an attempt to conceal the tears that had bubbled in his own eyes. You were certain that a conflict as big as the one you and Yoongi had found yourselves in should be harder to fix. There should be more conversation, more pleading, more tears, more fighting. But he presented you with a safety net, and you found yourself breaking through your own walls and falling into it.
“I love you,” you told him, wanting to assure him the way he did you.
Sighing, he stared at you, gratitude shimmering in his orbs. “Can you forgive me for the past?”
“I already did,” you told him sincerely. And you had. “It’s just a process, you know, unlearning what I thought love was and relearning it as, this,” you gestured between yourself and Yoongi. “I have to accept that this is how you love me and that you’re not going anywhere.” Shrugging at him, you huffed. “Insecurities work their way in but I trust you, Yoongi.”
“I’m still sorry. For the past, and for making you feel rejected,” he told you, making you glare at the man.
“I accept your apology, and it’s ok. But I don’t want you living in a constant state of apology, I won’t allow it,” you told him sternly.
The comment drew a breathy chuckle out of the man, Yoongi’s small gummy smile pushing out the remaining tension, and effectively filling your lungs with air.
“I’m sorry for being immature and blowing up,” you told him. “And for bringing up past shit and being mean and not vocalizing my concerns and-”
“Hey,” he smiled sweetly. “It’s all ok. Really, Kid, we’re ok.”
Nodding at him, you sighed in relief. You were still left with some remaining guilt over the fight, which you’d be making up for whether he wanted you to or not. But you felt a sense of closure to last night, the past two weeks, and the fight that nearly ended your relationship before it could truly start almost a year ago.
As Yoongi broke away from the conversation to place the finished food onto the plates, you glanced to the side of the island, noticing the yellow notepad that sat with the first page folded over the top binding. More words were scribbled than last night, indicating that Yoongi had woken up and finished jotting down lyrics before you emerged from your room.
“Did you read them?” Yoongi’s voice cut through your thoughts as he appeared beside you, setting a plate in front of you. Looking up from the notepad to meet his gaze, you shook your head.
“I didn’t feel like I had the right,” you told him, Yoongi pulling his eyebrows together in scrutiny. “Plus it was dark in there, my eyes aren’t that good,” you joked.
“Yeah you’re blind,” he humorously deadpanned.
“I am,” you easily agreed.  
“You could have read them,” he returned to the original topic as he gently dug his fingers through your slept-on hair, massaging the roots sweetly. “It’s about you.”
“A new cypher verse?” You teased, eliciting a chuckle from the man as his shoulders shook adorably.
“You’ll have to do a lot more to earn yourself a cypher verse, Kid.”
Shooting him a glare with your eyebrow raised, you smirked. “Is that a challenge?”
“No,” he shook his head, leaning down toward you. “It’s not,” he whispered just before his lips met yours, kissing you softly. Your hand found his waist, wanting to hold some piece of him as you kissed him back, pouring forgiveness and love into the act.
When he pulled away, a stupidly cute gummy grin directed to you, you couldn’t help but return the smile, a small giggle slipping from your lips. “Don’t ever write a cypher about me, I’ll cry,” you told him jokingly. “Even when I’m mean,” you added with a forced pout, Yoongi smiling just before placing a peck to your mouth once more.
“You call that mean?” He asked as he pulled away and sat down in the stool next to you. “You’re gonna have to do much better than that, I’m Min Yoongi.”
“He says Min Yoongi as if that’s not synonymous with a honey boy,” you teased as you took a bite of your food, immediately moaning at the taste. Yoongi pulled a disgusted expression at your dramatized reaction to the food, making you giggle.
“I’m your honey boy. That hasn’t changed,” he pointed out just as he took a bite himself.
And as you stared at him with a dumb smile, your eyes holding all of the love in the world, you felt excitement and gratitude that you’d get to shower him in all that love and affection for as long as he’d let you. And if that morning was any indication, he’d be letting you for your entire lives.
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yoonpobs · 5 months ago
from newest to oldest
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requests are: CLOSED
(f) fluff | (a) angst | (m) mature/smut
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with you (a) (f) (m)
⇁ marriage!au, divorce!au, childhood friends2lovers!au | 22.1k
↳ marrying your childhood best friend was not the love story that most painted it to be. you knew that better than anyone else.
10 years (a)
⇁ brother's best friend au, ft. brother!jimin, bbf!seokjin | 7.2k
↳ 10 years change people but you still remember.
jin thirst asks
he loves you, he loves you not ⇁ (a) (m)
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back-burner (a) (f) (m)
⇁ sister's best friend!au, best friend to lovers!au, sorta frenemies?to lovers!au, sistersbestfriend!yoongi | [ongoing]
↳ sometimes you felt like you were the back-burner of a two-decade-long friendship. how could you ever compete?
be in love (f) (a) (m)
⇁ established relationship au, boyfriend!yoongi | [ongoing]
↳ a collection of drabbles through the course of you and yoongi’s relationship. alternatively: you’re in love and so is he. or even more alternatively: what it feels like to be in love.
know your worth (f) (a) (m)
⇁ sword wielder au, swordsman!yoongi | 4.5k
↳ as the chosen one, you’ve never believed in yourself. enter yoongi
⤑ extras: i (m)
we don't talk together (a)
⇁ exes au, ex!yoongi | 2.8k
↳ it's hard to say it's over
love language (f)
⇁ relatively new relationship au, boyfriend!yoongi | 5.1k
↳ how min yoongi loves you
together (f)
⇁ single parent au, doctor!yoongi | 5.0k
↳ min yoongi is a good man but even a better father ... figure
difficult (f)
⇁ co-worker au, co-worker!yoongi | 3.8k
↳ you're difficult and yoongi just wants you
yoongi thirst asks
new girl ⇁ (f)
touch her and die ⇁ (f)
spit in my mouth ⇁ (m)
ice skating and hand-holding ⇁ (f)
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things change (f)
⇁ established relationship au, boyfriend!hoseok | 3.3k
↳ when you're an unlikely pair but it works
who's the boss (f)
⇁ workplace au, ceo/boss!hoseok | 4.6k
↳ valentine's day with your stupid (hot) boss
hoseok thirst asks
you should move on ⇁ (a)
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dilf (and love) (f) (m)
⇁ parents au, husband!namjoon | 6.7k
↳ it's been too long since you and namjoon had time to yourselves
⤑ extras: i.
namjoon thirst asks
none yet!
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to the touch (f)
⇁ brother's best friend au, ft. brother!yoongi, bbf!jimin | 5.2k
↳ he's back
alone (a)
⇁ unrequited love (?) au | 1.1k
↳ you'll never be ready
never yours (a)
⇁ infidelity au, cheater!jimin |. 0.9k
↳ the truth prevails even if it hurts
cold (f)
⇁ friends to lovers au, tsundere!jimin | 3.3k
↳ where jimin is ice cold but he wants you to warm him up (not in the way you think)
jimin thirst asks
none yet!
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choices (a)
⇁ enemies to lovers au, assassin au, target!taehyung| 1.2k
↳ some choices are harder than others
bodyguard (f) (a) (m)
⇁ enemies to lovers au, bodyguard au, boss!taehyung | 2.1k
↳ you protect taehyung from people but forget about the biggest threat—yourself.
⤑ extras: i (m)
taehyung thirst asks
rival!tae ⇁ (a) (m)
children talk ⇁ (a)
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bad boy good thing (f) (a) (m)
⇁ best friend to lovers au, fuckboy!jungkook | 88.7k [completed]
↳ a series of drabbles where you're confused and jungkook is confusing
manners maketh women (a)
⇁ kingsman!au, galahad!jungkook | 2.6k
↳ kingsman or alternatively: you trying to dismantle the patriarchy by pissing off your partner
forget him (a)
⇁ unrequited love au, ft. jin | 1.1k
↳ he wants you to see him
jk thirst asks
he loves you, he loves you not ⇁ (a) (m)
cheater!jk ⇁ (a)
shy!jk & fuckgirl!oc ⇁ (m)
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↳ check out my ask responses here!
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lavienjin · 5 days ago
02. taming fires | love ain't a business
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chapter summary: upon hearing the news of your wedding, you start frantically planning by first checking out wedding venues. who knew that someone else would be interested in tagging along?
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pairing: jungkook x reader
wc: 7k
genre/rating/au: 18+ | fwb, e2l, bfb, and fake dating au | angst
warnings: swearing
author's note: thanks to @jimilter and @knjsnoona from bangtansorciere for reading a bit of the ending and helping me out when i was a wee bit insecure!
crosspost: ao3 | wattpad
chapter index | m.list
↠ prologue | [01] | [02] | [03] | [04] | [05] | [06] | [07] | [08] | epilogue
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Since the luncheon, your dreams consist of Jungkook’s heated gaze scalding your skin.
“Prove it then.”
His words mock you; your brain refusing to quit the incessant curse it has placed on you at every waking second. So, you drown yourself in noise – turning up the TV volume loud enough that your ears ring every time you go to bed.
Which is why, it comes to no surprise that you find yourself throwing all your focus into your assignments when your classes resumed after the short autumnal break.
Gradually, your thoughts of Jungkook disappear as you solve case study after case study and your professors have even mentioned how much spirited you are at studying as of late. In addition to your homework, true to her word, Mrs. Jeon contacted you to commission a lovely sapphire gown, with intricate details of lace and rhinestones covering the bodice. As you met up with her one morning to choose the fabric, you begin to learn bits and pieces of the life she leads. A true socialite, her calendar was already fully booked until next year – filled with hosting luncheons and parties for the rich and famous in the industry.
However, it wasn’t until you asked her where she intended to wear the beautiful gown that you nearly choked on your spit.
“Why, to your wedding of course!” she said flippantly, gracing you with a dazzling smile that’s reminiscent of her two boys.
Your pencil freezes in the middle of the sketchbook at the mention of your betrothal and you could only sit dumbfoundedly and listen to Mrs. Jeon muse dreamily about the upcoming wedding. As she continues to talk about the best vendors to reserve for the big day, it dawns on you that Jaehyun’s impulsiveness may be hereditary.
Without your input, the Jeons have set a wedding date.
“Jaehyun, what the fuck?”
The door slams with a bang into the cream-coloured wall as you barge into the master bedroom after your morning of tea and cakes with Mrs. Jeon. You throw your handbag at the foot of the bed as you glare into the slowly stirring figure of your fiancé.
The younger Jeon rises from the comfort of his bed with a squint before rubbing his eyes and turning the lamp on the nightstand. “What’s with the yelling, woman?” he yawns.
“Your mother just informed me that you”—you point an accusatory finger towards him— “have set a wedding date!”
Jaehyun blinks a few times, eyebrows scrunched on the centre of his forehead. As your words gradually sink in, his eyes widen into saucers. “What? When?” he yells, flinging the covers away.
“Wait… you didn’t know?” you gape. Jaehyun cards his fingers through his hair and shakes his head while he paces around the room in search of his phone. “It’s less than a year from now, Jae. In June.”
A loud groan tears itself from Jaehyun’s throat and he presses his palms to his eyes. “You have got to be fucking with me right now.”
“Oh, I wish,” you scoff.
Despite your head splitting open at the thought of your plans seemingly unravelling at the seams, there’s a sickening twist of satisfaction as you watch Jaehyun panic as he taps his phone furiously to call his mother, especially after all the times he’s made plans without consulting you. As he argues into the call, the edge in his voice gradually loses its bite, dulling his words into whines of complaints.
“Well, that’s not fair! You should’ve talked to us first!” Jaehyun groans. “Well, tell your friends that the wedding isn’t happeni—Mum? Hello? Fuck! She hung up on me!” He throws the phone on the bed, the device bouncing harmlessly a few times before falling to the plush carpet below.
He doesn’t bother to pick it up, instead, he face-plants on his pillows before yelling loudly until his voice cracks. You wince as you regard your best friend’s pitiful state.
Jaehyun’s groans are muffled by the bed and you can hardly make out the words until you step closer. “I don’t blame you if you don’t want to do this anymore. My family is fucking insane.”
The bed sinks where you sit next to his defeated figure. “Well, consider yourself lucky, because I’m sticking around. I signed a contract after all,” you sigh. “You okay?”
“I’ll survive,” he mutters after a heartbeat, turning over to lie down on his back. “Sorry about this mess. My parents really did pick out a date on a whim, but I think I managed to buy us some more time.” Jaehyun throws his arms to shield his eyes and exhales loudly.
Another silence stretches while the two of you wrestle with the sudden revelation. With your courses and his job at the office keeping you both busy, the added stress of wedding planning isn’t something you accounted for – at least, not this early into the agreement. As you mull over details about what needs to get done within the year or so of your engagement, Jaehyun breaks through your thoughts.
“Hey, can I ask you something?”
“You just did,” you tease, nudging his foot in an attempt to alleviate the tension.
Jaehyun doesn’t laugh. Instead, he joins you on the edge of the bed with a frown. “You know, Jungkook’s behaviour during lunch has been bothering me for some time, but I haven’t really had a chance to really think about it until now.”
Your heart slams into your ribcage at the mention of his name. You look away before Jaehyun sees your shocked expression.
“I thought my brother would congratulate me when he heard about my marriage. I mean, he’s always bailing me out of all the shit my parents tried to pull,” he explains, a small smile appearing on his face. “But the way he reacted that day is in complete opposite to what I expected.”
“What do you mean?” you mutter. When Jaehyun turns to brand you with his gaze, you feel a sense of dread crawling up your spine.
There’s the same ember that lies behind his eyes that reminds you of Jungkook and his cold words from that day return to invade your thoughts.
“Prove it then.”
You pull the covers over your shoulder, though it isn’t because of the cold that you shiver.
“Well, if he wasn’t happy that I’m getting married to someone of my choosing, then the only possible reason is because it’s you, right?” Jaehyun says evenly as he searches your face. His eyes zero in on your throat when you gulp, and he tilts his chin in curiosity. Returning to meet your gaze, a strange expression passes by his face when he asks, “Be honest with me, did something happen between the two of you?”
You blink at him, silence filling in the gaps while you hastily finish constructing your mask of neutrality.
Steadying your breathing, you offer Jaehyun a smile you hope is convincing.
“No.” You shake your head and ignore the way your chest tightens. “We were just friends.”
You hate lying to your best friend, but Jungkook had asked for the relationship to be kept secret when you started seeing him. Though you’re not sure if you should still be upholding a promise from years past, it doesn’t seem right to mention it without his knowledge and consent.
Jaehyun remains unconvinced, but he eventually relents and looks away. You exhale in relief as quietly as you could.
“So, what’s going to happen now?”
Groaning, Jaehyun throws himself back on the bed. “Well, I guess we gotta plan a wedding. Are you ready?”
“Honestly? No. But, I am in this for the long run. I don’t break my promises after all,” you wink.
Jaehyun laughs and though the sound is still a bit strained, you’re happy to hear it. “Oh, and it’s not because I’m paying you to be my fiancée?” he questions teasingly with a poke on your arm.
Gasping dramatically, you clutch your chest with your hand. “Heavens, no!” You mimic a faux posh accent, earning a louder chuckle from Jaehyun. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, the cash doeshelp your case.”
The dark-haired man rolls his eyes before regarding you with a happy twinkle in his eyes. “Thanks for dealing with this craziness.”
“Anything for a friend. We’ll get through this, Jae,” you smile, though you’re not sure who you’re hoping to convince.
You and Jaehyun spent a weekend in front of your respective laptops consulting with your trusty friend Google about how run-of-the-mill brides run this wedding planning thing.
In an hour, you’ve managed to hastily come up with a timeline for the order of events. The first thing on the list? Wedding venues.
As you finish discussing the number of guests and preferred location, the two of you successfully manage to whittle down all the available venue choices down to three: a fancy hotel; a rustic barn; and a park in the middle of a forest. However, upon browsing through their respective websites, all three owners were only available to give you a tour of their venues on a single Saturday, much to both your displeasures.
So, when the day came and your phone belts out siren noises to rid you of your slumber, you’re groaning as soon as you leave the bed. Shuffling out into the living room with a yawn, you find that Jaehyun is already up and reading the newspaper on the sofa, the remnants of coffee staining the inside of his white mug black.
“Good morning,” you mumble, grabbing an orange from the fruit bowl and pouring yourself a large mug of coffee before plopping down next to him. Your fiancé’s bright smile slips into a grimace as he watches you peel the fruit.
“Oranges and coffee in the morning? Yikes, I really should’ve made breakfast this morning,” he comments sarcastically.
You stick your tongue out at him though you can’t deny the odd combination of flavours. Choosing to ignore his smart comment, you ask him a question instead, filling each word with mock exuberance. “Jaehyun, are you ready to embark for the tours of your lifetime?”
Jaehyun chuckles quietly at your faux display of joy. “Don’t get me wrong, I am kind of excited to go somewhere that isn’t the office. It’s been miserable there.”
You stop shoving slices in your mouth for a second to offer him an apologetic smile. “Is this about Lisa’s team? What’s going on now?”
His face crumples and he sighs heavily as he explains, “She purchased extra products because she miscounted how much stock the store had,” Jaehyun grimaces, dragging his palm over his face. “This isn’t the first time it happened too and now their warehouse is overrun with various tech toys with very little demand for them. What’s worse is that the whole culture in that branch is rotten and I don’t think the store is worth saving, so I’m thinking of shutting it down, which my parents aren’t happy with.”
“It’s a lost cause then?” you summarize.
“Pretty much,” he groans. At your encroaching silence, he bops your head gently with the folded newspaper, grinning brightly. “But hey, let’s just focus on our day ahead as a pretend couple looking through beautiful buildings, hm?” Jaehyun proceeds to toss the paper on the glass table before standing. “I’m gonna go get ready. Let me know when you’re done!”
You resume your breakfast, taking your time with the coffee as you watch the city come alive. When you’re done and all the dishes have been put away, you stare at the mountain of clothes in your walk-in closet before deciding on a simple moss-green pantsuit, perfect for the surprisingly hot weather outside. Just as you’re standing in front of your vanity while pushing in a pair of earrings, your door bursts open and a frantic-looking Jaehyun starts yelling a mile a minute.
“Whoa—Jaehyun, hold on! I have no idea what you’re saying!” you exclaim, moving closer to put your arms on his shoulders.
Jaehyun looks pale; with eyes bulging out of his sockets and mouth pulled into a grim line. The evident droplets of sweat on his forehead only exacerbates the expression of madness on his face. The buttons on his white dress shirt are slotted in the wrong holes, but when you tried to fix it, he swats your hand away to pace back and forth, mumbling unintelligibly as his hand rake through his mess of dark hair.
“I can’t come with you. I’m so fucking sorry, but there’s a massive emergency,” he frets. “I just—I can’t—”
“Jae—what’s wrong?”
He’s not listening, his dark irises flickering around the room, in search for something. “The branch! Scandal! Fuck! I can’t believe that incompetent piece of—”
At your loud yell, he snaps out of his frantic trance, head snapping to meet your comforting eyes. You approach him cautiously, hands outstretched to denote that you mean him no harm. When you successfully place your hands on his shoulders, you guide him to sink with you to the floor. You’ve seen this state of panic numerous times before, usually occurring before finals week during college, but the symptoms seem worse, especially when a ragged breath tears out of his lungs. What happened in the past half hour?
“Okay, let’s all just take a deep breath,” you murmur, throwing your arm over his shoulder to pull him into an embrace.
“I have no time,” he complains weakly, though he leans into your touch, closing his eyes as he rests his head in the crook of your neck.
“I hear you, Jae, but running around like a headless chicken isn’t going to help anyone. Now, relax and tell me what happened.”
Jaehyun takes a staggering breath before he explains the phone call he just received prior to bursting into your room. From his stuttered words and your own knowledge of business law, you’re able to piece the events together: what seemingly started out as an incompetent manager losing the company a few million dollars due to negligence in double-checking the stock has turned into a full-blown investigation of embezzlement after an employee ratted her out.
“…and now I have to go down there and help with the investigation,” he sighs. “I feel like it’s my fault”—he holds up a hand just as you open your mouth to protest— “No, you don’t get it, I was the one that hired Lisa!”
Jaehyun buries his head between his legs, a groan falling past his lips. When he looks up, you pretend you do not see the tears in his eyes.
“I just—my parents are going to be so disappointed when they hear I screwed up this branch,” he whispers. In the quiet of your room, he sounds much younger, like the scared freshman from college.
You let the silence fall, waiting to see if he’ll talk some more before you chime in. “Okay, sounds to me like you need a good pep talk,” you smile, though he doesn’t meet your eyes. “First, let’s get the facts straight. How many branches are you in control of, hm?”
He turns to you and cocks his head to the side, brows pulled tight towards the centre of his face. “You should know this already. I’m in charge of eighteen of them.”
“Out of how many?”
Jaehyun raises a brow. “Get to the point,” he grumbles. “What are you getting at?”
“Come on, humour me. You’re in charge of eighteen branches out of how many, Jae?”
He rolls his eyes, but answers anyway, “In this city alone? Forty.”
You nod, a smug grin on your face. When Jaehyun still has a blank look on his face, you tut and pull him into a sideways hug. “Jae. You oversee almost half the branches in this city alone and I know that the Jeon Corp is not some modest ‘mum-and-pop’ store anymore. In this country, I’m pretty sure there are – what – like a gazillion branches?” Jaehyun snorts at your hyperbole and you take it as a win. “Not to mention your offices in other nations like Japan,” you continue as your voice falters at the last word.
Jungkook’s face pops up and it takes all your efforts to wave him away so you could focus on Jaehyun.
“What I’m trying to say is… you fucked up one branch out of eighteen. Eighteen. That’s a 94% success rate. Your parents would be hard pressed to find a better branch manager.” You brush the hair from his eyes, squeezing his shoulders one more time. “Look, if they’re disappointed in you, fine. It happens. You’re human. But the thing is, you canfix this. From what you told me over breakfast, you’re planning to shut the branch down anyway, right? You already have a solid plan. So, walk into that branch with your head held high. Remind them who’s boss. You got this.”
You finish your motivational speech with a soft smile, silently praying that it’s enough to encourage him. Gradually, the ambition returns to his eyes – the familiar spark lighting up his chocolate irises once more. He nods, repeating the action with more gusto as he stands. Though Jaehyun is still shaky, you spy the determined set of his jaw as he fixes his mismatched dress shirt. When he’s done and all the buttons are in their right place, he extends a hand.
“Ah, there’s the Jaehyun I know. He’s back,” you tease, accepting his outstretched palm.
Jaehyun sighs, the barest hint of a smile gracing his features. “Thank you,” he whispers. “I mean it. I don’t think I would’ve pulled through without you.”
He opens his mouth to say something else, but no words come until you urge him to continue. “I just… I just feel like you’re giving so much to this relationship – to me, and all I can offer in return is just cash. I really hope that you get some good karma once you’re out of this whole deal,” he chuckles weakly. “Although I’m grateful, I’m sorry to say that I might not be here for most of the wedding planning,” he finishes with a grimace.
You shrug in response, shaking your head slightly. “As far as I know, you’re not God and shit happens,” you snicker, bumping his shoulder with your own. “And I’ll be okay, I promise. Go make sure Jeon Corp doesn’t burn to the ground.”
Jaehyun studies your face for a bit before he relents with a sigh. “I trust you. Pick the least ugly option, okay? And don’t worry about money, I’m sure you can guess, but this wedding will be a little extravagant considering who you’re marrying.” He gestures to himself with a roll of his eyes. “Before I go, I’ll call my mother so she could at least accompany you to the first wedding venue. Try to have fun, okay?”
“With your mother? I’m sure it’ll be a hootof a time,” you say sarcastically as you gather your things. “All right, I have to get going if I want to be there on time. Good luck and keep me updated, okay?”
With a final determined nod, Jaehyun offers a mock salute as he follows you out of the apartment, wheeling a large suitcase and his briefcase with him. As you wait for the elevator to take you to the underground parking, he lets you know that he’ll be in a hotel downtown with minimal contact while the investigation is going on.
“You sure you’re gonna be okay in the apartment alone?”
“Yeah! I’ll be fine.”
“Promise to let me know if anything happens?”
You nod just as the elevator doors open. It’ll be a bit lonely, but you’re used to living alone prior to moving in with him.
Before you got into your car, Jaehyun stops you.
With a brilliant smile that finally reaches his eyes, he jogs over and pulls you into a crushing hug. “I’m really glad it’s you. Thanks for being my fake partner,” he whispers in your ear before letting go. “Now, go and plan the most kickass wedding this city has ever seen!”
You arrive at the barn with much time to spare, despite the turbulent morning. Upon exiting the car and coming closer to the building, it looks more dilapidated than the pictures. The white paint covering the exterior is chipping, with some areas completely exposing the old rotting wood below.
And then there’s the smell.
The pungent air of manure and hay stings your eyes and nose as you step on the creaky floorboards to peer into the building for any signs of life. The lights are off, only a few slivers of sunlight highlighting the plain interior.
“Hello?” you call out, wondering silently if you went to the wrong place.
Just as you’re about to return to your car to check the address, the lights above you turn on, causing you to yelp and stumble backwards, effectively colliding with someone behind you.
Everything stills, just like it did during the luncheon when he appeared that day.
You slowly turn around to come face-to-face with Jeon Jungkook’s scowl.
He clicks his tongue in annoyance, muttering something unintelligible underneath his breath as he wipes off imaginary dirt from his light blue dress shirt.
“I see that you’re still easily startled,” he scoffs.
The word ‘still’ stirs something in your heart, but you ignore it to scowl back at him.
“What are you doing here?”
You didn’t mean to sound so accusatory, but your eyes still have a hard time believing in the sight in front of you. Before he’s able to retort, a chipper voice calls out from the front of the barn and you both turn to the entrance when you hear the click of high heels approaching.
“Hi, folks! You must be Mr. and soon-to-be Mrs. Jeon! Pleasure to meet you. I’m Hana and I’ll be giving you a tour of the premises today,” the attendant smiles happily before shaking both your hands.
“We’re not—” you begin to protest, but she’s already moving away.
“This barn has been well loved and it’s a miracle that it’s still standing after so many raging parties,” she giggles, though it sounds much too high and fake for your liking. “We do have a list of vendors that you can contact, you’ll be getting a discount if you decide to sign with us but let me show you to the real star of the show,” Hana exclaims excitedly, spreading her arms wide in an exuberant gesture.
She doesn’t seem like she’s interested in listening to you, so you give up on explaining your situation, though you wince every time she refers to you as ‘future Mr. and Mrs. Jeon’.
The two of you follow Hana outside, where she explains about the outdoor wedding package that they offer. You try to maintain the smile on your face, but the way she talks reminds you of Mrs. Jeon, barely pausing a breath while she brandishes facts about the venue.
After a whirlwind of an hour, Hana finishes the tour by handing you a flyer filled with all the information you may need and scribbled her phone number on the bottom in case you have questions.
“That’s the end of the tour. Do you have any questions? No? Okay, I’ll be right outside if you need me!” Hana giggles before walking away.
You’re left staring at the space she occupied not two seconds ago, bewildered at the speed in which she left.
“Holy shit,” Jungkook mumbles. “That was—”
“A lot,” you finish for him after a heartbeat.
Stunned at your outburst, you meet his equally shocked gaze.
“Yeah.” He drags out the word slowly. After another beat of silence, he lets out a small chuckle. “She reminds me of a hamster on steroids.”
“Or like Speedy Gonzales,” you snort, thinking about the small mouse from an old cartoon.
“Ah, I like the way you think.”
You allow yourself to crack a small smile. But Jungkook’s always had the ability to pull laughter out of you, and soon, the quiet chuckles crescendos into raucous laughter. When the giggles subside, tension unfortunately makes its return, and you scoot half a step to the side to create more distance between you and Jungkook.
“My mother asked me to come,” he says suddenly with a hand resting behind his neck.
“You asked me earlier why I’m here.” Maybe it’s the trick of the warm yellow lights, but Jungkook seems… nervous. His brown eyes stare straight down at the concrete floor below, refusing to look at you. “She heard about the whole fiasco from Jaehyun because he was wondering if she could accompany you, but she’s busy today. So…” he trails off with a shrug.
Why didn’t you say ‘no’?
“…Pardon? I didn’t quite catch that,” he frowns, finally meeting your eyes.
You shake your head, heart pounding a bit quicker at your accidental slip-up. You shuffle awkwardly from foot to foot, avoiding his gaze and looking around the barn. With a wavering voice, you try to make conversation. “Well… uh, what do you think of the barn?”
Jungkook doesn’t answer immediately, but after a bit, he clears his throat. “It’s a bit run down, considering the wedding you’ll be hosting. So, I don’t think this is the place for you.”
“I mean, I don’t know, it’s kind of rustic looking?” you counter, trying to make conversation.
“Sure,” he snorts. “If rustic means cheap. You should know that my family wouldn’t like this place.”
You nod in response before lapsing into silence once more. “I—”
The lights must be contributing to the sudden rise in temperature because you’re now sweating. Jungkook makes a gesture with his hand, as though he’s telling you to finish your thoughts first.
“There’s two other venues after this,” you say steadily, checking your watch to confirm that you have ample time to go to the next one. “Do you want to come with me?” You don’t know what prompted the invite, but you don’t want him to go just yet.
Something passes over Jungkook’s face, but just as you spy the grit of teeth paired with a sharp inhale, you blink, and the expression disappears. His face remains impassive, but there’s something soft in his brown irises as he murmurs so quietly that you instinctively leaned in to catch his words.
“I’d love to.”
Jungkook got lost on the way to the second venue. A fact you find absolutely hilarious.
“Shut up,”he mutters under his breath as he closes the car door, rolling his eyes at the shit-eating grin on your face. “Please, just save it.”
“I didn’t say anything,” you sing-song, throwing a cheeky grin past your shoulder.
You fall into step with Jungkook, your feet crunching the leaves as you make your way to the only building in the clearing. To your surprise, the silence between you and Jungkook isn’t awkward, though you find yourself watching him from the corner of your eye.
When you reach the cabin marked with ‘Guest Services’ in big bold letters, your knuckles rap on the wooden door a few times before a young man dressed in beige answers, grinning at your arrival.
“Ah, you must be the future Mr. and Mrs. Jeon,” he assumes, opening the door wider to let you in.
“Actually, this is—” your mouth falters and your hand stops in the air while you gesture towards Jungkook. Describing him as your future brother-in-law seems wrong – loud warning bells resounding in your brain when you attempt to shape the words with your mouth. The ranger looks at you with curiosity, his smile fading ever so slightly as the silence continues to stretch. You gaze at Jungkook, but he only inclines his head to the side, an unreadable expression on his face as he also waits for you to continue.
“—not my fiancé,” you finally finish, your voice barely a whisper at the last syllable.
Extending a hand at the ranger to cut through the stilted conversation, Jungkook gives him a lopsided smile. “Hi, I’m Jungkook. I’m—” he also hesitates, but only for a moment, “her friend.”
The word doesn’t sit right in your stomach and the smile you’re wearing earlier crumbles. He called you a friend, but that was the most apt description, wasn’t it? How else do you describe your complicated history?
The ranger apologizes sheepishly before introducing himself as Cane. He gives a general lecture about the history of the place before taking you outside for a short walk around the premises, pointing out the different trees that stretch up into the sky. The sunbeams that filter through the large canopy ahead makes the forest come alive and Cane stops talking for a moment to allow the ‘music of the woods’, as he lovingly calls it, to envelope your being.
Despite the storminess in your heart, the tranquillity of the scenery brings you peace once more and you try to ignore the disappointment tugging at your heart as you think back to Jungkook’s earlier words. You shouldn’t feel so downcast, but you can’t help it, not with the steady resurrection of feelings that you thought you’d long since buried.
Cane’s soft voice breaks through your thoughts just as you place a hand on a nearby tree, noting the initials etched on the bark. “So, part of the package for this venue is that you’ll be given a sapling after the ceremony. If you choose to plant it here, you’ll get a little certificate that marks the location of the tree,” he grins. He taps the willow tree next to you. Its leaves rustle – laughing as though it’s been tickled, and you don’t fight the smile as you stare at the long branches in awe. “For example, this tree right here? The couple came by on their 5th year anniversary and carved their initials on the bark.”
“That’s special,” you mumble softly, running your hand over the initials. “Thank you for your time, Cane.”
“It’s my pleasure, ma’am! Please take your time while you look around.” With that, he removes himself to stand by Jungkook, who’s taking in the scenery with wide eyes – the light turning his dark irises into the colour of rich earth.
The wind accompanies you as you stand there, but you’re no longer watching the dancing leaves ahead.
No, your eyes are stuck on Jungkook’s relaxed figure – at the way his long eyelashes graze the tops of his cheeks as he roars with laughter at what Cane said.
How long has it been since you’ve seen him laugh so freely?
More importantly, why do you wish it was youthat brought out his joy?
The last venue is the gorgeous hotel that happens to also be the most expensive on the list. Grimacing at the grandiose display of wealth, you take careful steps on the marble staircase after handing your car to the free valet service that’s included as part of the tour. You try not to gawk at the large pillar columns that stretch up to the sky or at the large statue of a barely clothed goddess that separates the staircase into two. When you reach the top, the doorman greets you warmly, opening the large glass doors with gloved hands as he bows.
Compared to the cacophony of traffic outside, it’s quiet in the lobby. There’s barely anyone in here, save for a few smartly dressed men talking quietly into their phones. While you wait for Jungkook to arrive, your eyes travel to a corner of the lobby that’s filled with paintings by local artists. Among the random splashes of colour on white canvas and the seemingly never-ending still life pictures of fruit bowls, there’s one painting that makes you pause your stroll.
It’s of a giant clock amid a busy plaza. On opposite ends, two figures stand – one looking at their watch while the other is on their tiptoes, staring straight ahead with a wide grin on their face. It’s the colours that captured your attention at first because the background actors melt into the scenery; painted in muted beiges and cream to make the two figures in dark clothing stand out.
“Heart-breaking, isn’t it?” An old woman next to you chuckles. You’re so enraptured by the painting that it takes you a second to realise that she’s talking to you.
“I’m sorry?” you ask her before she repeats her initial question. “I’m not one for art,” you confess. “Why do you think that?”
She cackles at your puzzled expression, slapping your arm lightly as she adjusts her cane. “Well, now’s your chance to learn. Art is a matter of opinion. So, what’s the story behind this canvas?”
Staring into the painting, you squint as you study the piece. “The two people… they’re waiting for each other. They seem excited, I think?” you falter. Your hand plays with the ends of your hair as you chew your bottom lip.
“Go on.”
Grateful for her encouragement, you continue. “If they just walked around the giant clock, they would’ve met up with each other. I mean, judging from the way they’re dressed, cell phones probably have not existed back then, yeah?” you conclude.
“Dear.” The old woman shuffles closer to where you stand. “Have you read the title of this painting?”
You shake your head. She smiles.
“It’s called ‘Yearning’,” she muses, accompanied by a soft, airy chuckle. “You’re right – they wouldn’t be stuck waiting for one another if they just used their legs.” She stops talking to lean closer, putting a hand by her mouth to whisper, “Wanna know what I think though? I think this painting is bullshit.”
Your eyes widen at the sudden display of boldness, and you can’t help the loud snort of laughter that escapes your nose, causing a few heads to turn your way. You clear your throat, turning away quickly as heat rises to your cheeks. The old woman stares in amusement. Feeling slightly embarrassed, you bend down slightly to murmur in her ear. “Why do you think that?”
“Well… it’s just sad!” she huffs, smacking her cane on the wall. You wince at her outburst, looking around for any sign of a security guard approaching you, but no one seems to pay any heed to the old woman aside from a few raised eyebrows. She continues her rant, ignoring your expression and the people around her, “These two are going to be heartbroken because they’ll each think that the other bailed on their date. And what do you think will be the result of that, hm? They’ll avoid each other like the plague, missing out on their chance at happiness.
“But I suppose old age has made me more pessimistic, because the artist chose to call it something ridiculous since she believed in the great ‘What If’ – in the grand chance that these two idiots decide to walk around the clock to find each other,” she chuckles briefly while rolling her eyes. “Between you and me, I think this painting should be called ‘Failure to Understand’ because this wouldn’t have happened if they just communicated better. Honestly, my wife and I used to fight over the interpretation of this painting. She thinks—"
The old woman’s rants are drowned out by the increasingly loud thump of your heart in your throat.
The great ‘What If’ plagues your mind.
If you had been braver or just communicated better, as the old woman puts it, would things be different? Would Jungkook still leave for Japan if you begged him to stay? Your scattered thoughts cease to a halt when a withered hand pats your arm.
“Thank you for listening to this old woman preach,” your acquaintance mumbles softly, offering you a small smile. “You look like you’re thinking about too many things, so I’ll leave you be, but let me offer you some sage advice. Whoever you’re thinking about right now,”—her eyes glimmer as she smirks knowingly at you— “make sure you’re not wasting any more of your time chasing the great ‘What If’. Just talk to them. Communication is key to a healthy relationship after all.”
There are a billion questions on your tongue, but she’s already hobbling away. “Wait,” you rack your brain to think of the right question, but you fail to conjure up a good one. “Why do you know so much about this painting?” you ask instead, and you chastise yourself inwardly for not coming up with a better question.
“Hm? Oh! Silly me. My wife was the artist, and the painting is a true story,” she says with a sly smile. “Thank goodness she had the balls to yell at me after ‘missing our date’ or else this painting wouldn’t have been born.” Jutting her chin to the painting, she asks, “Can you guess which one of the two is supposed to be me?” With a wink, she leaves without waiting for a response.
You stare at her receding figure with slightly parted lips before returning your attention to the painting. Despite your focus, you do notice when Jungkook comes towards you from your periphery.
“Who was that?” he asks, pointing to the shrinking figure of the old woman.
“An artist’s muse, I guess?”
You shake your head instead of answering. “Never mind. Let’s just tour this last venue, okay?”
Parting your gaze from the hypnotizing painting, you walk away, refusing to look back to see if Jungkook is following you.
Kara, your tour guide, shows you the different luxurious suites that would be included depending on which ballroom you book. Each of the rooms drip with ostentatious furniture – some with chaise lounges that surely cost more than your entire tuition. You nod and answer her questions as best as you could, though your thoughts continuously loop back to your earlier encounter.
Thanking Kara for her time when she’s done, you take the flyer from her hand and proceeded to leave. Jungkook falls into step beside you, but you stare at the exit blankly instead.
“So, which ballroom did you like best?”
“Do you think the chandelier in the second ballroom is tacky?”
“This hotel is built as a cover up for the Russian mafia and they killed a president in these very halls.”
Just before you reach the large glass doors, you feel a hand on your elbow yanking you to the side. You yelp, stumbling backwards before finding yourself inches away from Jungkook. From the set of his jaw and the scowl on his lips, you deduce that he’s not happy about something.
“You’re distracted,” he states flatly, his dark pupils glaring to your own. “It feels like I’m talking to a brick wall.”
You withdraw your arm from his hold, though the warmth of his touch still lingers on your skin. Turning away to avoid his searing gaze, you sigh, “I’m just tired.”
“Bullshit,” Jungkook responds after a moment, his keen eyes studying your features. “You didn’t even correct Kara when she congratulated us on our engagement.”
When you don’t answer him, Jungkook persists. “Can you just tell me what’s wrong?”
The strange hint of softness in his voice is the final straw. Tired from the surge of emotions over the past few weeks, your mouth is unfortunately faster than your brain, and venom seeps into every word. “Well, if you’re so bothered by it, why didn’t you correct her?” you snap, clenching your jaw as you meet his worried gaze with a glare. It breaks your heart – the way he’s looking at you as if he still cares, but you can’t stop the words from spilling out, no matter how hard you try to bite your tongue. “Hell – why are you even here in the first place? You could’ve just left me alone to tour the venues!”
Better yet, why did you come back now after all this time? you scream into your head.
Jungkook opens his mouth to protest, but you’re already cutting him off with a raised hand. “If you’re trying to use your mother as an excuse, save it.”
His hands ball into fists by his side and he releases a sharp exhale. “I told you to prove to me that you’re worthy of marrying my brother! This is my way of checking and let me just say, you haven’t been very convincing.”
“So, you’re babysitting me?” you balk, taking a staggering step backwards at his audacity. “Jungkook, why can’t you just be fucking happy for us?”
“Because!” he shouts. More than just a few heads turn your way and whispers begin to fill the hall. Jungkook notices and cards his fingers through his hair before dropping his voice into a whisper, recovering the distance between your bodies so you can hear him. “Because, I don’t believe it one bit. You may have fooled my parents with your hand holding bullshit, but not me.”
He traps you in his gaze, the intensity of the fire lurking in his irises intimidates you, but you refuse to flinch. “You may claim that you love my brother. But you’re not in love with him.”
Jungkook didn’t pose it as a question, leaving no room for debate.
The ice in your veins translates to the coldness in your voice as you scoff instead. “And what makes you so sure, Jeon?”
Jungkook lowers his gaze then. You’re surprised to find his expression morphing into one of sadness – the creases on his brows softening as he chuckles half-heartedly, as though he can’t believe what he’s hearing. Sorrow makes a home in the lines of his face, turning the corners of his lips downwards into a grimace.
When he speaks, it’s barely a whisper yet each word speaks volumes; piercing into your already battered heart.
“Because,” he chokes out. “You don’t look at him the way you once looked at me.”
The world comes to a screeching halt.
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chapter index | m.list
↠ prologue | [01] | [02] | [03] | [04] | [05] | [06] | [07] | [08] | epilogue
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softyoongiionly · 9 months ago
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based on the time Jungkook said he needed someone to scold him so he’d remember to put lip balm on.
Jungkook’s had a really long day and the only that can make it better, is seeing you. 
Pairing: Jungkook x Reader
Word Count: 5.8k
Genre: fluff, smut, established relationship, jungkook has a man bun idk what else I could possibly want
Warnings: language, explicit smut (18+ only plz), oral (male receiving)
A/N: Hello yes, I am mess. I wrote this in like four hours and it’s unedited but wow wow wow wow I am GOING THROUGH it for Jungkook. Anywayz, I love u. here u go
Jungkook is in a bad mood today.
He’s been awake since 6am, he hasn’t eaten since mid-morning and, he’s been practicing for over 12 hours.
Worst of all, everyone else seems to be in a good mood.  
It’s not that he hates when his hyung's are happy, it’s just that when you’re in a bad mood-  sometimes the shriek of someone’s laughter can feel intrusive.  
“Alright!” Hoseok’s voice hits the practice mirrors and with Jungkook feeling oversensitive, he cringes at the sound of it, “Let’s go again from the top!”
Jungkook sighs through his nose, stretching his sore back for a moment before getting back into formation.
“Jungkook-ah! Push a little harder in the second half ok?!”  
Hoseok is in dance-mode and therefore he has no idea how loud he’s being.
Jungkook purses his lips and nods, taking a deep breath before shaking out his hands.
“Yah! Jungkook?” Hoseok calls, facing the mirror, his eyes searching for Jungkook at the back of the practice room.
“Yeh.” He grunts, barely looking up from the floor.
“Did you hear me?”
He nods, his hands fumbling around in the pockets of his sweatpants, “Push harder in the second half...”
The rest of the boys seem unphased by his uninterested demeanor. They are no stranger to exhaustion.  
“Alright- let’s go.”
For what feels like the 100th time today, Jungkook moves through the routine as if it were second nature. The movements feel robotic and the muscles in his arms are beginning to turn to Jell-O. The strands of his hair are covered with sweat and, he’s thankful for his newly procured undercut for lessening the amount of heat he’d normally feel after working out this long.  
He feels gross though.  
Normally, he enjoys working this hard but today he isn’t feeling it. In fact, the strain between his brows is getting a little painful as he really tries his best not to frown.
The new choreography is intense and as much he likes the challenge- after the 100th time of running through it, he’s starting to get frustrated.
Panting through his nose, he holds his position at the end of the routine before Hoseok finally calls it.
“Yahhhh! That was a lot better huh? You guys did good.” He praises, clapping his hands, “Now go get some water and then we’ll run it again...”
Jungkook sighs hopelessly, letting his head fall back on his shoulders. He cringes at the feeling of sweat collecting on his skin, wanting nothing more than to make it back home to his shower.
Amongst other things...
Grabbing a bottle of water off of the table, Jungkook has to work very hard not to crush the bottle in his hands as he eagerly gulps down what he can. He finishes the bottle in record time and as he reaches for a second one, he pulls his phone out of his pocket to check it.  
Tweety: hiii I hope you’re having a good day! Do you want to takeout tonight? I got caught up at the school and, I didn’t pull anything out.
Jungkook feels his tight chest loosen up a bit as he sees your text come through.
You made a comment one day that he ‘gives off bugs bunny vibes’ and he responded by comparing you to Tweety bird.  
Needless to say, the nicknames are dumb but you guys think they’re cute.  
Bugs: takeout sounds good. I’ll be there late tonight though :/ I hope you had a good day too. Miss u.
Jungkook has just enough time to respond to you before he is wincing at the sound of Hoseok corralling everyone back to the practice floor.
Again, again, again, again, and again...
He’s so tired by the end of the circuit that he’s starting to feel throbbing in his temples. Headaches are a common side effect of over-exertion and just as he is getting ready to beg to go home, they are calling it.
“Ok ok- good job! You’ve worked hard everyone. Let’s rest for a day and then resume on Sunday.”
Jungkook feels his entire body deflate with relief at the last words parading out of Hoseok’s mouth.  
His day is finally over.
He reminds himself to never wear new boots to rehearsal again because he can’t feel the tips of his toes and his fairly certain there are blisters on the of his ankles.  
“Are you riding with me?” Jimin asks him on the way out of the practice room, his voice decorated with exhaustion.
Jungkook doesn’t fully pay attention to his question, his eyes already trained on his phone.
“No, I’m getting my own car.”
Jimin looks confused for a moment before a small smirk comes over his face.
“Are going to see her?”
Jungkook doesn’t respond quick enough, his mouth parted slightly as he types out his message to you.
“Aren’t you worried what people are going to think? You’re over there a lot...”
Jimin isn’t being judgmental with his questioning and Jungkook knows this. He can hear the genuine concern in his voice and understands that his hyung is merely looking out for him.
“I don’t really care what people think anymore.” He answers honestly, ensuring that he keeps his tone as polite as possible.  
Jungkook’s had to worry about the opinions of others since he was 15. As grateful as he is for his career, he is growing tired of being unable to make his own decisions. His gaze hones in on the tattoos covering his fingers and forearms and remembers a time not too long ago where he was required to hide them. Putting a band aids on his own self-expression didn’t feel good and he sort of promised himself that he wouldn’t allow the expectations of others to stop him from doing what he wanted.  
Or seeing who he wanted...
“You’re getting bolder with age.” Jimin notes, somewhat proudly as his eyes flicker over to him, “You really like her, don’t you?”
Tweety: miss u toooooo. I ordered ramen
Bugs: I just got out. I should be there in 20 minutes. I’m so hungry
Jungkook feels his cheeks heat up at Jimin’s question and rather than answer him, he just kind of shrugs, his mouth turned up in a small smirk.  
“Yah, don’t hold out on me-”Jimin bumps his shoulder, tilting his head in an attempt to get him to look his way, “We’ve known each other for how long?”
Jungkook slips his phone back into his pocket and adjusts his bag on his shoulder.
“I think the answer is obvious hyung.”
Jimin rolls his eyes playfully, “If it’s so obvious then why don’t you just say it.”
The two of them lean against the wall of the lobby, waiting on a notification from their drivers that they are outside.
Jungkook bites his lip, in an attempt to reign in the grin that threatens his face.
“I like her.”
Laughter trickles out of Jimin’s lips as he bumps his shoulder, “Why are you shy all of the sudden? Is there something else I don’t know?”
There was something else Jimin didn’t know.  
Jungkook hasn’t told a single soul since it happened.  
He’s so incredibly private and after meeting you, he only has more of an urge to keep things to himself.  
“There’s nothing.” Jungkook mutters, his eyes eagerly looking checking his phone for the driver notification.
“You’re lying to me.” Jimin calls him out, “What is it?”
Jungkook shakes his head, tucking a bit of hair behind his ear. He licks over his lips and immediately regrets the fact that he forgot his Chapstick.
How’s he supposed to kiss you, if his lips are chapped?
“Jungkook-ah, tell me-” Jimin whines, tugging on his sleeve.
He merely snickers finally and shrugs him off, shaking his head, “There’s nothing to tell. Why do you think I’m hiding something from you?”
“Because I’ve known you for almost ten years and I-” Jimin begins before a knowing smirk comes over his face, “Wait- you’ve slept with her haven’t you?”
Jungkook’s eyes widen a bit, taken aback by his bold statement, “Someone’s going to hear you, why are you asking questions like this?”
His hyung giggles, deeply satisfied with his discovery, “You have, haven't you?”
Jungkook feels the threat of a smile come over his face again, “Why do you want to know? It doesn’t matter.”
“It matters-” He shoots him a pointed look, “Because we’re best friends? And I want to know. When did it happen?”
Jungkook is feeling a little bit bolder, unable to help the pride he feels that he was finally able to experience an intimate relationship, “Which time?”
Jimin’s eyes widen before he slaps Jungkook on the arm, “Which time??? You’ve done it more than once?”
“Shhh-” Jungkook whisper yells, his brow furrowing, “We’ve been seeing eachother for 6 months. Why do you look so surprised?”
Jimin chuckles this time, glancing behind him, “I just- I don’t was your first time, wasn’t it? I just thought you’d make a bigger deal of it.”
He shrugs again, a smirk still lingering, “It was a big deal- to us. I thought you guys would just figure it out eventually.”
Ever the nosy one, Jimin slinks a little closer to him, a bit of mischief in his eyes, “It’s fun huh?”
Jungkook just rolls his eyes, brushing him off playfully, “I thought I was supposed to be the youngest.”
Jimin ignores his comment and just looks at him expectantly.
Giving up on holding out, Jungkook finally gives him what he wants and replies.
“It was fun.”
Jimin offers his signature bit of laughter again but before he’s able to interrogate him any further, Jungkook finally gets the notification that his driver is here.
“I’ll see you Sunday, hyung.” Jungkook gives him a short wave before adjusting his bag on his shoulder.
Jimin smirks and flutters his fingers in his direction, “Have fun.”
Jungkook just shakes his head, groaning to himself as he finally leaves the building.
Slumping into his seat, he shuts his eyes for a moment and tries his best not to fall asleep. Thankfully, his desire to eat his weight in ramen paired with his desire to see you keeps him from passing out.  
You and Jungkook have been together for a while now and although the initial nerves surrounding seeing him have lessened slightly, you still want to look good for him. Thankfully for you, when it comes to impressing your boyfriend- less is more.  
Slowly but surely, he has revealed his preferences to you but they have slipped out casually. He doesn’t ever want you to feel like you have to look a certain way for him.  
But you do know he likes black.
And you do know he likes when you wear oversized pieces.
The harsh bit of winter also makes dressing in gigantic hoodies and thick socks a lot easier anyhow.  
So you opt for something along the lines of cute but comfy and tend to your hair the easiest way you know how.  
Jungkook also loves it when you don’t wear any makeup. But he’s never told you directly, you’ve just figured out based on the way he gets all starry eyed every time you wash your face at night.  
The ramen is all set up in the living room and you’ve got one of the Christmas movies the two of you started the other day, ready to play.  
By the time you hear a knock at your door, everything is ready for a cozy Friday night with your boyfriend.
Upon opening your door, you are met with the sight of Jungkook- sweaty, soft and slightly sleepy standing there in all of his glory. He’s dressed in grey sweats and a big white t-shirt, his hair tied up messily atop his head. Along with the smell of sweat, you can faintly make out the remnants of his cologne and it stirs something deep inside of you.  
Jungkook’s eyes scan over you briefly, offering a small smile as he leans in to peck your cheek, “Hiiii...”
He sings the greeting, patting your hips as he quickly steps into your apartment.  
“Hello,” You sing back, giggling a bit, “Did you guys just now finish up practicing? Didn’t you start at like 7?”
Jungkook winces as he begins slipping off his big clunky boots, leaning back against your front door, “Yeah. I really thought they were trying to kill me- I did the new dance so many times, I lost count.”
Pouting your lips, you take his bag off his shoulder and hang it up on your coat rack.  
“I’m so sorry.” You murmur, shaking your head, “Did they give you tomorrow off at least?”
At this, Jungkook grins, nodding as he does, “Yeah, I was going to ask you what you were doing tomorrow cause I thought maybe you’d want to hang out. Our night was supposed to start a lot earlier...”
He looks regretful and even slightly annoyed.
He’s been having this issue a lot lately where his prior obligations and engagements seem to mean nothing to his directors, which never used to be a big deal but, now that he has you in his life- he never wants to let you down.
“I’m free all day-” You reply happily, before narrowing your eyes at him, “I have one condition though-”
Jungkook looks intrigued, cocking his head as he steps forward, “What’s your condition?”
“I need one of these...” Pointing to your lips, you pucker them and make grabby hands at your boyfriend.
He laughs softly, shaking his head as he closes the space between you, “I just got here and you’re already using kisses as collateral now huh?” His voice gets a little lower and before you can reply, his gently places his lips on yours, sighing out through his nose as his flutter shut.
Once he starts kissing you, you aren’t really able to think of a coherent response. Leaning into him, you hum lightly in your throat, tucking your lips between his.  
However, when you attempt to slide your hand up the exposed skin of his arm, he winces and pulls away.
Groaning, you can’t help but giggle, “I know- I know... ‘babe, I’m too sweaty. Let me just shower really quick and then I’ll promise, I'll kiss you so much better’...”
At your attempt to imitate his voice, Jungkook starts laughing- cute nose scrunched up with delight.
He kisses his teeth, “You know me too well. I’ll be right back.”
Jungkook leans in again and kisses you on the cheek before disappearing into your bathroom moments later
After his showering, he comes out in a baggy t-shirt and some sweats, his hair freshly blow dried and piled up on his head in a messy bun.  
He scarfs down his dinner in record time before the two of you settle back against the couch.  
You can feel him looking at you as you giggle at the TV but he doesn’t let his eyes linger very long. He just kind of stares for a moment before simply tightening his grip around your shoulders. He feels so warm beside you that you seriously wonder how long you’ll be able to stay awake with him being the human equivalent of a weighted blanket.  
When your laughter erupts again, Jungkook leans in to pop a kiss on your check, which broadens your smile that much more. It’s only for a moment before he turns back to the TV, seemingly satisfied with his actions. However, you decide to return the favor and smoosh your lips against his face, eliciting a snicker from his throat.  
You snuggle into him more, grabbing his arm that’s resting on the couch beside you and wrapping it around so that his hand is resting your lap. Leaning your head against his chest, you slowly began tracing over the markings on his skin lightly brushing your nails against each unique line. Jungkook’s eyes are trained on the TV and despite his blank expression, you can see the goosebumps forming on his skin.  
Regardless, you just keep going, allowing your fingertips to trace over the letters adorning his hand. Using your nails, you trace between each of his fingers, before interlocking them your own. Once you’re holding hands, Jungkook squeezes slightly, brushing his thumb along your skin which then prompts you to finally to turn to the side and look at him.  
He grins softly, still not glancing your way but choosing to offer a playful comment instead, “You’re not watching the movie...”
You laugh softly, reaching out with your free hand and tilting his face towards you.
“We’ve watched this movie four times-” You retort, “Besides I’m pretty sure I remember you promising me that you’d kiss me properly once you were out of the shower.”
Jungkook’s grin broadens, his doe-eyes alight with defiance, “I’m pretty sure you promised yourself that for me- I don’t remember agreeing to it.”
You scoff in mock offense, “Damn ok. So it’s like that huh? I buy you ramen and yet this is how I’m treated. I’m calling the UN...”
Jungkook laughs a little harder now, the sound a little sharp but intensely endearing, “It’s that serious for you?”
Pouting, you nod, “It is that serious.” You’re about to say something else before you brush your thumb over his lips and notice the dryness there, “Did you remember to bring your chapstick today?”
He immediately sucks his lips between his teeth and given that his ability to speak is no compromsied he simply nods, his eyes wide with false innocence.
“Mhmmm.” He lies
“No you didn’t!” You exclaim, laughing a bit as you press your thumb against the thin line of his mouth, “Babe, it’s so cold outside- your lips are going to start cracking.”
Unfurling his lips, he lets his head fall back on his shoulders, “I know, I know-” He whines playfully before his head snaps back up to yours, the same glint remaining in his gaze, “You have some right?”
You roll your eyes, “You know that I do.”
He snickers, quickly leaning in to kiss your cheek, “Can I have some then?”
Playfully shoving him off, you rise from the couch and shake your head, “I’m giving you one to keep in your rehearsal bag,” You shuffle over to your bathroom, “You better use it!”
He laughs as he hears your demand echo down the hallway before calling back, “Hurry jagi! They are so dry- I can feel them! They are so close to cracking!”
Seconds later, your hurling one of your many lip balms into his lap which he catches just before it hits him.
“Put it on...” You demand pointedly and he shakes his head.
“I don’t think I can-” He sighs dramatically, holding the lip balm out to you, “You have to do it- all of the moisture in my body is slowly fading lips are trying to suck it all up.”
Giggling, you cross your arms, shaking your head, “That makes absolutely no sense.”
“Y/N! Please!” Jungkook chokes out, “Before I waste away...the winter-” His eyes bug out of his head, as his hand clutches his chest, “the winter jagi- it's going to dry me out completely.”
Finally snapping, you grab the Chapstick out of his hands before asserting yourself into his lap. He laughs, resting his head against the couch cushions whilst his hands sneakily find their way to your hips.
“You’re so annoying...” You grumble, still giggling yourself as he puckers his lips dramatically.
“I’m only following your recommendations.” He insists, making kissy noises at you, “Balm me up baby.”
Uncapping the chapstick, you press your chest against his before starting to drag it over his lips. As you get to work on helping him, his mischievous gaze slowly softens until he’s looking up at you with stars in his eyes. Carefully, you make sure every inch of his mouth is covered with balm, paying special attention to the corners and his lower lip. As you finish up, you put the cap back on set on the couch cushion.
He rubs his lips together, humming in satisfaction.
You smirk, “Better?”
Jungkook nods his Adams’ apple bobbing in his throat as he feels you shift on his hips.  
“Make sure.” He murmurs, puckering his lips, his eyes starting to swim with arousal.
You lean in, unable to refuse him before capturing his mouth in a kiss. Rotating your head, you slowly deepen the connection between your lips, drawing a sigh from the boy beneath you. You can feel his thumbs rub ever so gently against the back of your hips as he leans fully back so that your chest is resting on his.
He nudges your nose, allowing his tongue to brush against the bottom of your top lip, requesting entrance into your mouth. You accept him, licking along his tongue, a shiver running up your spine as he sucks slightly on the top of you.  
Jungkook really is a filthy kisser but you’d never guess by just looking at him.  
He’s quite sure his face is growing numb, his only focus on the way you’re making him feel and a somewhat annoying pain on the back of his head. His ponytail is digging against the wall, causing unnecessary discomfort to wash over him. Still kissing you, he reaches behind his head to pull the hair tie out, allowing his hair to fall freely around his face. You take the opportunity to slide your fingers between the strands, scratching gently at his scalp and causing a slightly shaky breath to leave his lips.  
He loves when you play with his hair.  
You use both hands now to tuck it behind his ear before using them to slide down the length of his arms. Finding his hands on your hips, you lace your fingers with his and bring them back up so they are pinned against either side of his head.  
The making out didn’t get him fully hard but as soon as he feels his hands pinned against the head of the couch, he feels his dick twitch almost painfully in his sweatpants.  
Smirking into his mouth, you delight in the sudden halt to his breathing. Subtly, he pushes his hips up a bit when you start kissing your way down his chin and throat. Jungkook summons all the resolve he has and goes perfectly still when you start placing soft kisses along the expanse of his throat. You feel the ache between your legs worsen when you feel his fingers tightening against yours. Jungkook is a very sensitive person, both emotionally and physically. Over the time you’ve become intimate, you’ve slowly uncovered all the little spots that drive him crazy.  
And you’re determined to kiss every single one.  
“You had a hard day huh?” You murmur sweetly, kissing up the right side of his neck.
All he does is nod, his eyes falling shut as he feels your lips getting closer to his earlobe.  
Placing another kiss at his hairline, you slowly kiss along the bottom half of his ear before capturing it between your teeth.
His breath immediately leaves his lips in a shaky mess, his eyes squeezing together as the grip on your hands tightens.
“I think I should help you relax after you’ve worked so hard don’t you?”
He has no idea what you plan to do to him but, he honestly couldn’t give a fuck.  
He’s too hard, too wound up and too into to you to ask any meaningful questions.  
Jungkook merely nods, not trusting his vocal abilities at the moment as he waits for your next move.  
A smirk comes across your face as you suckle lightly on his earlobe, knowing how much he likes it before using your lips to descend back down his neck.  
You lean away from him to get a closer look at his expression. Smoothed out in pure pleasure but also tightening slightly at the discomfort brought on by his throbbing dick.  
His eyes are still closed as you release your grip on his hands and he keeps them that way even as you move to grip the hem of his t-shirt.  
“Are you falling asleep on me?” You tease and he merely grins, shaking his head.
“Then why are your eyes closed?”
He doesn’t open them and instead allows a breathless bit of laughter to leave his lips, sound almost exasperated.
“I feel dizzy.”
His simple responses elicits another desire within you that intensifies your goal to make him feel good.  
“In a good way?” You check, playfully pinching his stomach as you slowly pull up his t-shirt.
He goes back to nodding, his hands coming down to assist you with your task. His hair flops haphazardly as the material of his shirt messes with it. You take a moment to admire how incredibly beautiful he is when he settles back against the couch, your mouth going dry at the sight of him. Flushed face, pouted lips, defined muscles and hardened nipples lay before you, and you are a little unsure of where to put your lips first.
Although it doesn’t really matter, your destination is the same regardless.  
Deciding on another spot that drives him crazy, you allow your fingers to brush along his ribs before leaning in to kiss over his defined chest. Jungkook’s hands are laying limp against the couch but when he feels your lips nearing his nipple, he turns them so they are able to grip the edge of the couch. Sucking his nipple into your mouth, you let you tongue rub against the peak of it. Jungkook sighs loudly from above you and you can’t help but smirk as he still doesn’t allow himself to moan.  
It’s a quirk you’ve noticed and you feel like it’s likely left over from the long-discarded idea that Jungkook has regarding his masculinity. No matter how often you tell him that making noise is perfectly ok (and really hot) he still waits till he can’t help himself.  
And to be honest, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy pushing him towards that point.  
After you finish kissing his chest, you begin trailing your wet lips down the middle of torso, taking a moment to suck over the soft skin of his not so softly defined stomach.
“All those hours in the gym are really paying off-” You mumble against his skin, brushing your fingers over his abs, “You look so strong...”
At your compliment, his lips part, one side of his mouth turning up in a slight smile.
“I wanna look good for you.”
It’s quite a ridiculous statement really.  
Jungkook would look good no matter how many visible abs he had but you know he likes the praise none the less.  
So you shower him with it.
“You always look good for me.” You assure him, kissing along the band of his sweatpants now, “I’m proud of you for working so hard.”
He grins a little more, leaving his eyes mostly close but allowing them to peak open a bit to watch you sink to your knees.  
“Thank you.”
He swallows back the threat of hyperventilation as he feels you spread his legs, his eyes closing completely once again.  
If you weren’t able to make out the sound of his breath picking up, the movement of us chest certainly would have given it away, his pecks heaving a bit as he tries to relax.  
But as you begin gently massaging up his legs, Jungkook realizes relaxing might not be possible.  
At least not at the moment...
He’s stained the seam of his sweatpants with precum which would upset him if it were any other substance but with his dick being so hard, he really can’t find himself to care about anything else.
Tucking your fingers beneath his sweatpants, you begin tugging them off of his hips, relieved that he isn’t wearing any underwear.
Jungkook takes another deep and shaky breath through his nose, tilting his head back again as he tries to center his thinking.
But you’re kind of driving him insane.  
Starting at his knee, you kiss all the way up his inner thigh, taking in the scent of his body- indescribable and mouthwatering, just like him. You stop just before his dick before repeating your actions along the other leg.  
Jungkook’s stomach is caving in at the teasing but he does absolutely nothing to urge you further.  
He likes the torture.  
“Is there anything you want me to do while I'm down here?”  
Jungkook bites his bottom lip at your question, knowing that you’re going to make him ask for it but feeling shy regardless.
“Yes.” He breathes  
You brush your fingertips over his balls, his hips only slightly twitching at the sensation.
He’s trying to stay calm, not wanting to get so ahead of himself he blows his load before you’ve even started.  
“What is it that you want me to do?” You murmur, leaning in to breathe against his length.
You’re expecting him to stall and use every other word to ask for what he wants but instead, he surprises you.
“Suck on it...” He whispers, taking a deep breath before exhaling on the word, “...please.”
Smirking to yourself, you wrap a hand around him- feeling him throb within your grip before kitten licking over the tip of him. After ridding his dick of all the precum, you decide to end his descent into madness and suck him into your mouth.  
You start slow, licking up and down the length of him, your core aching at the taste. Jungkook’s nails are digging into the couch cushions as he feels your movements, his teeth starting to chew on the inside of his bottom lip.
Bringing your hand into the mix, you guide a flexible grip up and down up, using your lips to suck on the tip of him, your tongue tracing the curves of his frenulum.  
Jungkook’s lips part in awe as he feels the combination of moves on his dick, his toes curling against the shag carpet. He knows that his vision will be swimming but he wants to watch you so badly, he decides to finally open his eyes.  
As he predicted, his vision is spotty and the dizziness he felt earlier is nothing compared to the way he feels now.  
It all becomes irrelevant though when he locks eyes with you. Your boyfriends normally innocent gaze is completely glossed over with lust, his mouth hanging open as he stares down at you, the same smirk slowly returning to his lips.  
Sucking off of him, you use your hand to jerk him off as you address him, “Does it feel good?”
He bites his lip, his face and chest decorated with the flush of arousal as he nods.
“Why are you so quiet then?”  
For whatever reason, your question tickles him and drunken giggle bubbles up past his lips,
“’ss too good.” He explains, shaking his head at you, “I don’t know how to say anything...”
Logically, he understands that you aren’t talking about him necessarily saying anything but more so referring to the lack of noise he’s making. However, he knows very well that he’s going to be moaning for you soon, especially when your mouth returns to his dick a second time.  
When he feels you palm his balls, his eyes fall shut again, his hips twitching all over the place when you resume both sucking and jerking him off.  
Jungkook knows he’s biting his lip really hard when he starts to taste a bit of blood but he doesn’t care, the pleasure he’s experiencing overpowering any semblance of pain.  
“Y/N” He whispers, “I’m getting really close.”
His warning makes you swoon because he sounds so desperate and yet he’s being considerate, not wanting to intrude your mouth with the taste of him.  
Despite the fact that, that’s all you want.  
You merely moan against his length, signaling for him to let go whenever he wants, your speed increasing all the while.  
“Fuck...” He whispers again but the word sounds like it got caught in his throat, “Fuck...fuck...fuck.”
Hearing him swear makes the wet disaster in your shorts much worse but you wanna make him cum so badly, you ignore it completely. The sound of him nearing the edge is enough to take him all the way in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you suck him harder.
Finally, he breaks- a whimpering skipping past his lips, one of his hands coming up to cover his mouth. As much as you want him to moan for you, you don’t want to stop your motions long enough to tell him.  
He throws his head back against the headrest, his eyes opening wide as he stares up at the ceiling in amazement. His body jerks as the first wave of his release hits your tongue and rope after rope, you swallow everything he gives you, sucking him through his orgasm and until the sensitivity becomes too much and he starts squirming beneath you.  
You suck off of him, allowing his softening length to rest against his lower stomach, which is now trembling with his heavy breath.
Jungkook pants, still staring him at the ceiling and while he’s coming down, you kiss along his hips, letting him take his time. Whilst you’re kissing up his happy trail, one of his hands reaches out to brush over your face. Its then you notice that it’s clammy and a bit shaky so, you take a moment to press a kiss over his knuckles, trying to encourage him to look at you.
“You’re shaking.” You whisper and before you know it, you can hear that same drunken giggle coming from his lips again.
Your boyfriend looks down at you, a deep sense of amazement in his eyes as he laughs still, a bit delirious.
“Yeah well-” He shakes his head, still trying to get his wits about him, “You should have a talk with your mouth about that...”
You giggle now, resting your chin on your hand as you admire how fucked-out he looks. His hair is a mess and he is covered in a light layer of sweat and if you’re being honest, you really want to jump his bones all over again. But you know he needs a minute.
“I just wanted to help you relax.” You claim innocently to which he just shakes his head, gesturing for you to get on the couch.
“Come here.”
You scramble up towards him, sitting beside his exhausted body and before you know it, he’s pulling in for a kiss, his smile creeping back when he feels your lips.
“You’re amazing.”
He sounds silly but sincere all at once, kissing softly at your lips before nudging your nose.
You smile back into the kiss, mumbling something of the same nature to him.  
The two of you kiss one another for a moment until Jungkook is pulling back, allowing his dark gaze to scan over your face, eyes suddenly full of determination.
“I think it’s time you relax too now, don’t you think?”
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jjiimin · 25 days ago
favourite things
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—drabble, 1.5k words, fluff, bf2l, request from @saturnpjimin, i hope you love it! 💐
A little after noon, your ears perk up at the sound of a key sliding into the doorknob. On instinct, your head whips around just as the intruder pushes the door open and steps inside. With a heavy storm behind him, he stomps off most of the snow on his thick winter boots then raises an arm over his head in a cute wave.
“I was about to dial 911,” you groan, throwing your phone back onto the coffee table where it lands next to this month’s Vogue. “Ever heard of calling first?”
The man in question shrugs off his padded jacket and hangs it over a dinner chair before heading over to you. That’s when you notice a familiar plastic bag in his left hand. The logo of of your favourite grocery store shines in bright reds and greens in theme with the Christmas season. He sets it on the coffee table then proceeds to pick up the magazine you hadn’t glanced twice at.
His brows rise when he notices the cover. “Isn’t this that TikTok girl with the really bad movie on Netflix?”
“The one we watched last weekend,” you laugh, nodding your head along. The movie was so bad that the two of you finished it in a fit of giggles and a promise to never watch a movie not targeted to your age group ever again. “I thought Anna Wintour had more class than this.”
The man to your right laughs and shakes his head, throwing the magazine back where he found it. “Always so judgemental.”
“What? It’s true!”
“Whatever you say.”
Playfully, you role your eyes and start reaching for the plastic bag. “Don’t act so high and mighty now, babe. I distinctly remember you laughing with me last weekend.” Eager to tear through the bag and pull out the items inside, you miss the way his breath catches and the abrupt silence from his end of the sofa. When you look back, he’s staring at you with unreadable eyes. “What?”
For a moment, all he can do is blink before he falls back down to Earth where your usage of the endearment means nothing in his regard. Especially when he wants it to mean everything.
Not knowing if you should prompt him more, the hand dipped inside the bag touches paper encasing the shape of something rectangular. Instantly, your eyes light up.
“Did you bring me chocolate?!” Sure enough, when you pull out the item, three bars of decadent milk chocolate fall into your lap. A sound of glee rips through your mouth. “Oh my God, you got me chocolate! How did you know I was craving it?!”
He holds up his phone to a lengthy rant you sent him close to an hour ago. “When you wouldn’t stop texting me about bringing down the patriarchy, I figured you were on your time of the month.”
Laughing, you reach into the bag again and pull out a container of your favourite flavour of ice cream. There’s two tubs of it. On top of that, there’s gummy bears, two cans of Coca Cola, fudge brownies, sugar cookies, and at the very bottom, a box of jjajangmyeon from the Korean restaurant downtown. The sight of all your favorite cravings makes your eyes well up with tears, which, without a moment’s notice, he slides in next to you to catch.
His long arms go around your body and cuddle you to his warm chest, and like you always do, you press your face into his shirt and inhale his familiar scent. Even with all your favourite things laid out for you, having him close is still the best comfort.
“Hey, why are you crying?”
“I love you, Jimin,” you mumble through a fresh bout of tears. “How do you know me so well?”
He rubs your side and presses his lips to the top of your head. Though you don’t hear him very well, the vibrations of a sentence spoken from his delectable mouth make you bring your head back up.
“What did you say?”
He smiles and wipes a thumb under your eyes. Despite the fact that you are wearing no makeup, have acne growing along your jawline due to hormones during your period, and patchy skin from the crying you just did, Jimin still thinks you’re the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen. Perhaps he’ll ever see—because he doesn’t plan on looking away from you for the rest of his life.
“I said,” he repeats, moving closer to you with each word spoken. His eyes are shimmery and they look just a little frightened. Nerves kick in, and you clutch his shirt for support, lest you fall backwards in a heap of embarrassment. The worst of it is when he glances down at your lips. “I wouldn’t be in love if I didn’t know your favourite things.”
“What… what does that mean?”
He smiles and just to tease, he pushes back the worry painting his own heart and kisses your right cheek. “Guess, baby.”
The endearment takes you faster than the storm brewing outside. And even though your little corner of the Earth is cloaked in snow and ice and frigid wind, in this moment, all you feel is warmth. And God—you just want more of it.
“Babe, sweetheart, angel,” he whispers, and with each sweet word, he kisses over your eyes and your cheeks and your forehead, “my everything.”
Something clogs your throat.
“You’re not just saying all this as a friend, are you? Because that would be really shitty, Jimin, and I don’t—“
Just then, Jimin forgoes any sane or rational part of his mind telling him to calm down and talk this through, and leans in for a kiss. He presses his lips so desperately on yours that you can taste its desire. Although you’re taken aback, falling into the kiss you’ve waited so many months for is easy, in the end. Maybe because in the back of your mind, you had been preparing for it all this time.
When Jimin realizes you’re not pushing him away, he smooths his hand over the curve of your cheek and brings you closer. The touch of his slightly calloused skin melting against yours is heaven incarnate.
Jimin kisses with deep passion and a sweetness you can’t name. It feels good enough to write several diary entries about. Makes you feel like that teenager who dreamt about being kissed just like this someday. Everything about it feels like a dream come true.
Eventually, as the need for air begins to stir too heavily, Jimin pulls back just a smidge to gauge your reaction. The best part about it is that he never takes his hand away. He keeps his skin on yours just the way you like it, making you purr like a feline into his awaiting atmosphere.
“You still want to be friends, YN?”
Though the pain of your period ripples through your lower back, you ignore it for the sake of all the pleasure of being close to him when you slowly push him down on the sofa. Besides, if the two of you keep kissing like this, the pain will dissipate it no time.
“Yes,” you tell him as your body slots over his slowly. While your legs tangle with his in a dance of sated comfortability, you are the one to kiss down his jaw this time. “I want to be best friends.”
He squeezes your waist when you kiss just under his ear lobe. “Really?”
“Best friends who kiss a lot,” you carry on, bringing your lips back down to slightly enclose his in an almost kiss. “Why? What do you want to be?”
“Your boyfriend,” he answers in a deep voice which sounds all too sexy on him. The tail end of his reply cuts off when he grabs your face and brings you in for a harder kiss. Then he grabs and touches your body like a man starved, only to be satisfied by the heat of your hot skin. When a hand snakes under your shirt, he lays it flat over your belly. “Wanna try it—being my girl?”
Right where he’s placed his hand, your belly does a big swoop and your timid heart bursts in excitable butterflies. A scarlet cheeked smile bends your lips upwards and Jimin grabs you taut against his chest for another kiss, though you manage to pause the motion with a hand on his cheek.
“I didn’t thank you for bringing my most favourite thing,” you whisper, thumbing his gloriously luscious lips just as he presses a peck to it. Maybe he can’t kiss you just yet but that doesn’t mean he’ll go without your lips for even a moment now that he’s had a taste. It’s like placing a gorgeous steak in front of a man and telling him not to touch. He’s weak for you, there’s no doubt about that.
His own lips settle into a smile as he asks, “The chocolate?”
“My boyfriend.”
And fuck, maybe he’s weak as all hell when he smashes his lips on yours, moans and groans alight on his tongue, but what does that make you when you return it with the same enthusiasm?
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dimpleddaydreams · 12 days ago
The Bath House [Part II] (King!Yoongi x Reader)
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Genre: Smut, Fluff, Angst  Characters: King!Yoongi, Servant!Jungkook, Queen!Reader Warnings: Violence, blood, torture, sexual acts, dirty talk, prasie!kink, mentions of r*pe/sexual assault, oral (male receiving), heartbreak.  Rating: 18+ Word Count: 3.3k Previous Chapter: (x) A/N: I still cannot believe that in less than full one day of posting the original oneshot, it received over 130 likes/reblogs. Thank you so, so much for the love, I really appreciate it, especially since this is my first time writing stories like this. Here is part two, I really hope you enjoy it. Part three will be coming soon. Again, thank you so much for taking the time to read my story. xx
    The marketplace air was filled with smells of raw meat, fresh fruit and tobacco smoke. Men speaking loudly, haggling over prices, women giggling over their husbands. Your guards walked behind you, keeping a watchful eye on the bustling crowd, who’s eyes were fixated on you. You walked arm-in-arm with Ji-Soo, your favorite servant, who’s companionship you enjoyed. Her black hair gently moving in the light spring breeze, pausing to look at a basket of Asian pears that an elderly man was selling.
    “Your highness, don’t these look delicious?” Ji-soo asked, eyeing the golden fruits.
    “Mm.” You hummed. “My husband finds these delicious as well. Perhaps we should purchase a few. The women in the kitchen could make a lovely spiced jam for us.”
   You asked your guard for your money he was holding for you, overcompensating the elder for his fruit. As you grabbed a few for your bag, his eyes widened as he counted how much you gave him.
   “Excuse me, my queen, I believe that a mistake was made.” He said, attempting to give you your money back.
   You smiled, walking over to him. You gently took his hand and curled his fingers around the coins.
   “Please, I insist. You’ve labored hard, allow me to pay you adequately.” You replied, your voice delicate.
   He nodded. “Thank you, your highness.”
   As you gave your bag to Ji-Soo to hold, and began walking away, you heard the elder speak under his breath.
   “Much kinder than our king.”
   You sighed and continued walking. You knew his sentiments were not unique. Due to your weekly visits to the market, the citizens often had a higher view of you than your husband. You understood the difference; Yoongi was feared, but you were loved.  
   Ji-Soo lightly tightened her grip around your arm, her soft eyes meeting yours. She offered a light warm smile, as if to apologize for the elder’s words.
   “Do not take their words to heart, my queen. They do not know your husband in the ways you do.” She whispered, leaning closely so that only you could hear.
   You offered her a smile and nodded. Ji-Soo knew through your conversations how gentle Yoongi could be. Through your market visits, your strolls through the palace gardens, and the drunken nights you quietly sneak her into the palace bath house, she’s become your closest confidant. You’ve told her of the gifts Yoongi has given you, the love letters he’s written, the sweet words he’s whispered while offering soft touches in the bed you share. But Ji-Soo and you both realize that your husband’s acts of kindness are reserved only for his wife. There would be none for Ji-Soo if she ever spoke publicly about your private conversations, none for his advisors who gave him foolish suggestions, and certainly none for-
   “-That servant boy, Jungkook,” Ji-Soo started, snapping you from your thoughts. “I saw him leaving your bedroom this morning. He’s quite handsome, isn’t he?”
   “I don’t know if I like what you’re implying.” You said under your breath.
   “Oh, your highness, you’ve never been shy with me before.” Ji-Soo said, a playful smile plastered on her face. “I’ve heard it’s quite common for a queen to take another lover. Especially when your husband is occupied with other matters-”
   “I’ve never had another lover besides my husband.” You cut her off. “Jungkook only visited to speak to me for a moment.”
   Ji-Soo nodded. “Well, I’m sorry to have assumed. I’ve spoken out of turn, but if I may be so bold, your highness, that servant boy…”
   She paused momentarily, thinking over her words before leaning in, quietly saying,
   “Everyone sees the stars in his eyes when he looks at you.” 
At the palace…     Jungkook took his place on the right-hand side of Yoongi’s empty thrown. The king stood at the edge of the balcony, hands on the railing, overlooking the court yard. His tongue pressed up against his cheek, watching his guardsmen bring in a fresh batch of criminals for the slaughter. Thieves, deserters, conmen, all brought in to pay for their sins.
   One man in particular made Yoongi’s skin crawl, his stomach turning at the very thought of him; a rapist.
   Yoongi had no tolerance for any man who would harm a woman. It made his blood boil. He thinks of you; his wife, the love of his life, his little flower, and how nobody could escape his wrath if a man laid his eyes on you, let alone inflicted harm on you. The gods themselves wouldn’t be able to protect that man from his vengeance.
  He knew that was his core reason for the executions; to clean the streets of men like him, for your sake. Every possible threat to you had to be dealt with. He kept you away from the court yard on execution days, ensuring your eyes are averted from the wicked men and their blood shed. He had to keep you protected from them. As he told you;
    “My delicate flower should never have to concern herself with such matters.”
   His guardsmen brought the assailant to the middle of the courtyard, right in the line of Yoongi’s dagger-like gaze. The man’s eyes were covered by a thick black cloth, his clothes in tatters from the rough treatment he endured at the hands of the guards in the palace holding cell. His hands were bound behind his back in rope, and dirt covered his bruised body. The guards threw him down on the concrete, causing him to yelp at the scrapes made to his knees.
  Yoongi chuckled at the man’s pain, causing Jungkook’s eyes to be fixated on the king, taking in the ruler’s appetite for vengeance. His mind echoed your warning from this morning;
   “Your king likes to take his time. Likes to toy with his prey before he kills it. He likes to hear the squeals, like hogs to the slaughter.”
   “What is your name?” Yoongi shouted from the balcony down at the man, who then mumbled to himself.
   “Speak with pride!” Yoongi heckled, taking another swig of his wine. “Certainly, you’re not ashamed of what it is that brought you here.”
   “My name is Kim Dae-Hyun.” The man said louder, his voice shaking, attempting to hold back tears.
   Yoongi smirked. “The name of a bastard. Are you not proud?  Having your name echoed in my palace court yard?”
  Jungkook’s brows furrowed, watching the king take another sip of his wine as he stared at the blind-folded man, kneeling between two guards. Yoongi ordered the cloth be taken off his eyes, causing the man to squint in the harsh sunlight.
 “Do not be ashamed! Are your actions not what a proud man does?” Yoongi shouted sarcastically at the man, venom in his voice. “Only a man with enormous, glaring pride takes a woman by force.”
 Yoongi finishes his wine, obviously intoxicated. Poison dripping from his lips as he commands his guards to strip the man naked and stand him up.
 Jungkook’s doe-eyes somehow managed to become even larger, connecting the dots to what the king had in mind.
 “He likes to hear the squeals. Like hogs to the slaughter.”
 Yoongi laughed at the visibly embarrassed man standing nude in front of him.
 “I thought you would be pleased!” Yoongi continued to heckle. “Do you not take pride in your manhood? Doesn’t everyone want to see? Is that not why you forced that woman to take you?”
  The man began to sob, and Jungkook watched in shock as Yoongi grab his sword. The king made his way down the steps onto court yard, walking over to the man, his sword resting over his shoulder. His gold jewelry shining in the sunlight, his fine, green robes dusting the concrete. Jungkook moved from his position to the railing of the balcony, eyes glued to the king.
  “Please, your highness, my king,” The man sobbed, his head hung. “I’m begging for your forgiveness. I will never force myself on another woman, I swear it.”
  “I know you won’t,” Yoongi said, his voice steady and calm. The man raised his head to look at the king, surprise glimmering in his eyes but for a moment, before Yoongi leaned down to his ear to whisper, “Because I have your cock.”
  The man’s eyes widened, and before he’s able to process the king’s words or open his lips to protest, Yoongi slices the man, basking in his anguished screaming from the bloody mutilation. Jungkook gasps, his eyes large and his body frozen from the grotesque punishment.
 Servants rushed over to take Yoongi’s bloodied sword from him, and Jungkook notes the smirk on the king’s face as he listened to the man’s pained screams. Yoongi made his way back to the balcony, looking at his advisors before cracking a quick joke.
 “Hard to be a proud man without balls, isn’t it?” He chuckled, followed by the laughs of his advisors.
“Finish him off with the rest of them, you know what to do.”  Yoongi shouted down to his guards. He turned around and paused, his eyes meeting Jungkook’s stare before saying, “I have to clean up before my beloved comes home from the marketplace. She’s showing me the flowers in her beautiful gardens this evening.”
 Yoongi continued to stare at Jungkook, the servant’s eyes containing both fear and disgust at the king, his breath heavy.
 “You’re already quite familiar with how beautiful her gardens are, aren’t you, Jungkook?” Yoongi asked, causing the boys heart to race.
  Yoongi brushed past the servant, bumping into him casually on his way back into the palace. Jungkook remained frozen in place, recounting the events of the previous night in his head while the screams of the other criminals in the court yard ringed in the background, before being overtaken by deafening silence and the strong copper-scent of blood.
You arrived back at the palace, your bag full of the goods that you found in the market. You had the guards bring you to the kitchen, where the women hastily paused their work to bow as you walked into the room. Ara, the head of the kitchen, came over to greet you.
      “Good afternoon, your highness.” She greeted with a bow. “How was your trip to the market?”
      “It went well. I do have a request to make,” You said, reaching in your bag to pull out the pears you had bought earlier. “Would you make these into that delicious spiced jam you make in the spring, and have it brought to my bedroom? I’d like to surprise my husband with it this evening on our walk.”
      “Of course, your highness.” Ara said, taking the fruit. “I’m honored that you both enjoy my jams so much.”
      “Would you also make an extra container, and have it taken to Ji-Soo’s bed?” You asked.  
      “Yes, of course.” Ara responded with a smile, as you left for your bedroom.
      You walked into the bedroom to find your husband lounging in bed, a clean, silk robe draping his body. He looks up at you, greeting you with a smile. You shut the bedroom door, the warmth of Yoongi’s presence radiating throughout the room.
      “Hello, my goddess.” Yoongi purred. “Come lay with me.”
      As you strip down into your lounge robes, Yoongi gazes at your nude body. You can feel his eyes drinking you in as you change. You walk over and take your place on the bed, resting your head on his half-exposed chest. He hums, gentle fingers running through your hair.
     “Did you find yourself something special at the market today?” Yoongi asks softly, his voice warm. He moves his hand from your hair to your back, rubbing you gently.
     “I found some delicious fruit, and some wooden beads, hand-carved beautifully with intricate pictures of birds. Ji-Soo suggested we make them into bracelets…” You talked about your day, not noticing Yoongi’s adoring gaze fixated on you. His eyes softened, his lips slightly upturned as he listened to you innocently go on about your shopping excursion.
     You finally looked up at him, a smile forming. “What is it?” You asked.
   “You’re so beautiful. My loving wife...” He said in an almost whisper, his thumb tracing along the soft skin of your jawline. He admired the innocence in your eyes, a stark contrast to the ugliness of the world that he tries desperately to purge.
   “I love you.” You responded, bringing your lips to his. He hungrily licked along your bottom lips, asking for entrance, and you accept.
     His hand finds the back of your head, tangles his fingers in your hair as his tongue explores yours. His scarred eyes closed, feeling your lips on his, your soft hair in his fingers, your hand delicately touching his chest. He melted under your touch, feeling a sense of intimacy that only you could bring out in him.
     He took his other hand and slipped it under your robe, squeezing your thigh. You pulled away, watching as he kept his eyes closed for a moment longer before slowly opening them.
      “I want to,” You started, fingers tracing an invisible shape into his chest. “But you promised that I could show you my garden.”
      Yoongi softly laughed to himself, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “Of course, my love. I’ve looked forward to our time together all day.”  
      You got up, about to dress yourself properly, until you felt Yoongi standing behind you. He removes your hair from your neck, plants little kisses down your skin, sliding his hand inside your garment to feel your breasts.
      “I’ve missed you... so… much.” He said in between kisses. He noted your breath deepening, melting into his touch. “My sweet goddess… my everything…”
      “Do you need my love?” You asked, feeling a smirk on his lips pressed into your skin.
      “I’ll always need you.” He responded quietly, his warm breath tickling your skin.
     You turned to face him, sliding the robe off onto the floor, and dropping to your knees in front of him. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
    Jungkook made his way into the palace kitchen, as requested by Ara through one of the king’s advisors. The sweet scent of fruit hitting his nostrils as he entered through the door, offering a bow to Ara as his eyes met hers.
    “There you are,” She greeted him. “The queen asked that this jam be taken to her bedroom.”
     She pointed to a container of jam sitting on the counter, a string bow tied around it. He nodded, and jam in hand, found his way out of the kitchen.
     As he walked through the palace, he kept thinking of the king’s words. His stomach knotted, knowing Yoongi had seen him in the garden. It knotted worse not knowing exactly how much the king knew.
     Was Yoongi aware my feelings towards his wife? How long did he know that they were being watched?
      He was almost to your bedroom, when he heard the king’s voice, shaky and deep.
        “Oh… that’s it… Go deeper… So good for me…”
     Jungkook continued to walk to the room, the voice becoming louder with every step. He opened the door slightly and froze to see you in the nude, down on your knees, in front of your husband. His hands holding your locks, his robe opened, exposing himself, and his head thrown back. Yoongi’s grunts and groans filling the bedroom, accompanied by the crude sounds of your mouth servicing him.
       Jungkook felt as though he was going to be sick.
     “Mmmm… that’s so good… Look at you, being good for me…” Yoongi praised, feeling you take him in his mouth.
       Your licked a wet strip from his tip all the way to his base, lightly sucking on his balls before licking back up his member slowly, your eyes looking up at the pleasure on his face. You took him in your hands, pumping him before sticking your out your tongue, playfully tapping his tip on your tongue, then accepting him completely into your mouth.
       You bobbed your head on his hardened cock, his hands in your hair, his moans slipping from his lips. You felt your pussy wetting between your thighs, but tonight, you just wanted to focus on his pleasure. Tonight, you wanted to give your mouth to him. You looked up at your husband, your eyes full of love and lust, watching his bliss, finding his release into your mouth.
      “Ugh….UGH-” Yoongi grunted, holding your head in place. You relaxed your throat, breathing through your nose, taking what you could of his release.
      “Can you swallow for me, my love? That’s it, just relax…” He cooed, holding your hair in his hands, twitching between your lips.
      Jungkook had seen all he could bare to stomach. He left the jam in front of your door, and quickly made his way down the palace halls. His heart felt shattered, seeing you on your knees for a man that just a few hours earlier, showed his unrelenting appetite for violence. His mind racing, his heart cracked, he ran through the gardens, finding himself at the bath house.  
      He let himself in, shutting the door and dropping to the floor. Tears began to stream down his face, allowing his breaking heart to take over his thoughts.
       She’s too good for him.
      I’ve loved her for ages…is she so blind?
     A man with that much blood on his hands doesn’t deserve someone as tender as her.
   His thoughts were then disrupted by the sound of your laughter. His glassy eyes looked out the window of the bath house to see you with your husband, strolling around the gardens. The setting sun painting everything in a golden-like warm glow. Your arm wrapped around his, pointing to different flowers and smiling as you talked, Yoongi’s face looking at you with so much love.
   Jungkook overflowed with a kaleidoscope of emotions; jealousy, love for you, disgust at your husband. He stood up, watched you for a moment longer, before beginning to open the door with shaky hands. He wanted to say something, what it was? He wasn’t sure. But he could not hold his tongue any longer. He knew he was being foolish, he knew that his blood would be dripping from the court yard steps by sunset tomorrow evening. But he couldn’t bear to see you in the arms of another man, knowing he did not even try to give you his heart.  
   As he was opening the heavy wooden door, one last glance out the window gave him pause.
  One of Yoongi’s advisors, Kim Seok-Jin, rushed over to the couple, panic splashed across on his face. Jungkook could not hear what was being said from his distance, but he clearly saw the king’s face turn cold as you look to your husband with worry. The advisor walked away quickly, and your eyes began to water before breaking down into a fit of emotion.
  Your knees gave out and you found yourself on the ground, tears streaming down your face. Yoongi bent down, wiping your tears and speaking, undoubtedly trying to console you. Jungkook desperately wanted to rush out there, to hold you, to fix whatever was wrong. But he was paralyzed by the scene in front of him.
 Yoongi was finally able to help you stand on your feet. His hands on both of your shoulders, he looked directly in your eyes as he spoke. He kissed your forehead, and then your lips, resting his forehead to yours with one last sentence, the only one Jungkook could make out;
 “I love you, always.”
  With that, Yoongi walked swiftly out of the garden, following in his advisor’s path. Jungkook stood there, as you watched your husband disappear from view before breaking down once more. Before he could come out to offer comfort and learn of what happened, Ji-Soo was already by your side. She embraced you in a hug, her eyes meeting Jungkook’s.
  Ji-Soo gave him a fleeting reassuring half-smile, before taking your hand and leading you out of the garden. Jungkook stood in silence, his hands shaky, the air thick with nervous anticipation. x
Part III (x)
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kinktae · a year ago
novocaine || (M)
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Going home was hard – painful even. But falling back in love with Jimin, the boy you left behind? Downright gut-wrenching.
pairing: punk!jimin x reader
word count: 9.3k
genre: 1990s au, exes au, angst, eventual smut
warnings: 90s slang, VOMIT MENTION (nothing graphic), alcohol, oc has dead parents :c, mention of a house fire
01 | 02 | 03
Your cautious knock against the open front door rang out through the old victorian era home.
Your grandmother had always left her front door cracked open for as long as you could remember – you'd imagine to some that might have been strange, but in a town as small as yours, that was just the way it went. Neighbors knew each other intimately, their parents and their parents' parents having grown up together for as long as memory could stretch back.
From peaking inside, you could tell not much had changed about your grandmother's home from when you left town. The same green floral wallpaper was stretching across the living room that you had grown up with. You remembered how you used to run down the halls playing pretend, the walls serving as a forest of green and white columns serving as trees for every one of your adventures.
How far you dreamed of traveling even at a young age, wanting more than your small town could offer.
"Come in, darling! I'll be out in a moment," You heard the familiar voice call out from somewhere in the kitchen, an ache in your chest echoing.
Clutching at the strap over your shoulder, you reentered your childhood home for the first time in years, holding your breath as if a sudden exhale would send it crumbling down on top of you.
"How can I help–"
You watched as your grandmother made her way into the living room, her friendly smile dropping the moment she laid eyes on you. For a moment, no one said a word, the two family members standing across from each other silently, neither wanting to be the first to speak.
It was you, ultimately, who broke the silence.
"I'm sorry." You began, eyes welling as they mirrored your grandmother's.
"How could you?" She breathed, disbelief dripping off of every word.
You gripped your bag tighter, pulling it into your chest as if subconsciously wielding a shield to protect yourself.
"I'm sorry–"
"Four years." She shook her head.
Shame washed over you as your grandmother ran a hand through her hair.
"You left me a note. A damn note saying that you were leaving town and not to look for you. No goodbye. No, this is where I'm going. You just left. Do you know how worried sick I've been for the past four years? I had no idea where you were... if you were safe or even alive!" She continued, tears finally reaching her cheeks.
You felt like you had been punched in the stomach. And what was worse was that you deserved it. Four years ago, you had packed your bags and disappeared that same night, not telling a soul where you were going.
Because you didn't even know where you were going – all you could do was march forward, booking whichever bus would take you furthest away from the town that had taken so much from you.
"And now you're back."
You tried your hardest to keep your composure, swaying from foot to foot unnaturally. There wasn't a day that passed that you didn't think back on to all you had left behind. You hopped from city to city, hoping to find whatever it was that you were searching for.
You were happy. You were. Picking up whatever waitressing job you could. Meeting new people every day. It was precisely the spontaneity you had been craving, changing cities as soon as things started to feel too familiar.
And yet, here you were. Once again, in the one place you'd sworn you would never come back to, wanting the ending to a book you had left open years ago.
"I'm so, so sorry." You were. Standing here in front of your crying grandmother, you were pitiful and soaking in shame.
With a shaky breath, you were suddenly taken into her arms, no amount of time was able to undo the way your grandmother loved you. You wept countless apologies into her neck, not that they were needed. Because despite the way she was furious at you, she knew exactly why you had left. She saw the way the life in her granddaughter's eyes died that fateful day. The way they never returned, no matter how happy the day or loved the company.
"It's okay, darling." Your grandmother soothed, running a hand over your head as she pulled you tighter. "I understand why you had to go."
From the moment you were brought onto this earth, your grandmother had been your best friend, understanding you even when your parents didn't. She was your number one confidant throughout your teenage years. She was the only one who didn't bat an eye when you came home with bright blue hair and several sporadically placed piercings on your 17th birthday.
She used to be quite the hell raiser herself after all – she'd be lying if she said she didn't get this town talking back when she was your age.
"Why don't you say I make you some tea and we can talk about it some more? Chamomile still your favorite?" She soothed, pulling back from your shared embrace.
A small laugh left your lips, your head nodding in confirmation. She remembered. Of course, she did.
And as the two of you sat on the living room couch, cross-legged and mugs of tea in hand, you spent the next two hours telling your grandmother everything. Recounting everything that had happened from the very day you left up until the day of your return. Recounting every missed bus, every friendly acquaintance, and miserable job. She held onto your every word, smile sincere as tears slipped from her eyes. It was a bittersweet way to catch up on her granddaughter's life, and as much as she wished she had been there to see it all with you, she was grateful. Grateful for your return and for the way your eyes lit up with every story you told.
How she had missed that. How she had missed you.
Gone was your blue hair. Gone were your round cheeks and the puerile way you used to speak that she adored. You were a woman now– beautiful and happier then she had ever seen you in years.
"So, I guess it'd be silly to assume you're here to stay." Your grandmother spoke through a soft smile, bouncing the tea bag around her empty mug.
One of the corners of your mouth tugged upwards, remorse written across your face.
"Honestly," You breathed out. "I'm not even sure what I'm doing back here."
You could hear the ticking of the old grandfather clock standing just across the room, filling in the gaps of silence with its metrical beat. Memories of your father poking his head inside its body as he fiddled with the mechanism whenever it broke down. You let out a shaky breath, you pulled your eyes away from the wooden clock hastily.
"I guess I realized I couldn't move forward with the way I left things back here."
"Well," Your grandmother exhaled, pulling herself off the couch, palm stretching out to take your cup. "You're welcome to stay here for as long as you need. This is still your home whenever you need it to be, understand?"
You nodded appreciatively, "Thanks, Grams."
"You can go put your things in your room. I'll clean up here."
Every step up the thickly carpeted stairs felt familiar. The weathered leaves of the fake plants your grandmother had set up on the side of the stair railing brushed against your jeans. You had always loathed those oddly placed plants, remembering the numerous times you had knocked them over in your youth as you came barreling down the stairs.
Pushing against the door to your old room, you stood in place. It swung open, revealing your bedroom, albeit it a much tidier version than you remembered.
Walking in, you couldn't help but smile. Cleanliness aside, it was exactly how you had left it.
Your walls were an outrageous jewel-toned purple, a color that you had since sworn off in the past years. Placing your bag down against the leg of your wrought iron bed frame, your eyes peered up at the muted yellow glow-in-the-dark stars you had scattered all over your ceiling. You could hardly believe they were all still up.
Rows of posters littered one of your walls. Green Day, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Nirvana: all the bands you and Jimin used to scream along to during car rides.
Your heart thumped at the thought of him– the boy you had left behind. It had been so long since you had allowed yourself to think about him freely like this.
Scanning the polaroids propped on the wall by your desk, you paused as you came across the photos you were searching for. Your heart lurched as you took in the old images of you and your ex-boyfriend. It was certainly a trip down memory lane, from the pictures of the two of you in Hoseok's basement to a photo of your favorite pair of converse shoes propped up on Jimin's dashboard. You could still make out one of his Doc Martens poking into the frame. He had jerked his leg over the center console mid-drive to join your photo, earning a giggling shriek and blurry photo on your part.
But your favorite photo was the one you had taken the effort to frame, propped up in a metal frame on your desk.
Solemnly, you reached for it, hands gripping either side as if you were afraid of it slipping through your hands and falling to the floor, shattering beyond repair.
It was the first-ever photo you two had taken together. It was on your first date, which had consisted of eating McDonald's in his car as the rain poured down, trapping the two already nervous teenagers inside. You grinned at the photo. You were both so young, probably no older than sixteen in this photo. And what a photo it was.
You had managed to cut off half of your face, too concerned with getting the boy you liked on film. Not that it was an award-winning photo; you had caught Jimin mid-blink, his lips parted oddly as if he were in the middle of speaking.
Jimin hated this photo, claiming how embarrassed he was once the picture had developed in front of you, his attempts to impress you on your date shattering with that one photo.
But you loved it this photo. Even still, there was a bitterness in your chest as you set it back down. The frame was intact, but your relationship was far beyond repair.
You remembered the day you had left town vividly. You had just turned 19, the first anniversary of your parents' death approaching and weighing heavily on your mind. It wasn't so much as a planned or reasoned decision. You merely hopped out of bed one restless night, shoved as many clothes you could fit into your duffel bag, and slipped soundlessly out your grandmothers' house. You hardly even remembered the walk to the nearest bus station. You just purchased a ticket for the next bus heading out of town and never looked back.
You hadn't seen or spoken to Jimin since, but it wasn't hard to guess that four years was more than enough time for him to forget all about you.
Sighing, you ran a hand against the nail polish stained wood of your desk, splatters of black and burgundy holding up against the test of time.
What was he up to now, you wondered. If you knew Jimin, you doubt he had left town. If you had to guess, he had taken a job at his father's car shop. He probably was still driving around that old Toyota Corona of his, painted red like he had always dreamed about.
Your old magic 8 ball caught your eye suddenly, and within seconds, it was in your hands.
"Is he still in town?" You asked out loud, entertaining the thought that the omnipotent magic ball gods might hear your inquiry.
Shaking the ball generously, you turned it over, watching as the dark blue gel inside cleared up as the dice made its way to the surface.
Signs point to yes.
You shrugged, figuring as much.
"Still driving that car?" You continued.
Yes – definitely.
You couldn’t help but grin, pleased at the way the ball had also agreed with your assumption.
Humming, you passed the ball from hand to hand, an intrusive thought trespassing into your head.
"...Should I go see him?" You asked quietly, swallowing down whatever pride you had left.
Your brows furrowed as the answer revealed itself before you.
Ask again later.
Unsatisfied, you shook it again.
Cannot predict now.
You set the toy down, the heavy plastic letting out a thunk as it met the surface of your desk. You were treading on dangerous territory anyway. Seeing Jimin after all these years... you wouldn't know the first thing to say to him. Would he even want to see you?
"Yo, Gramcracker!"
Your reflection in your vanity mirror stared back at you with a perplexed expression, urging you to go and suss out the source of the voice. Walking out of your room, you began to make your way down the stairs, wondering who on earth had just entered the house.
"Bake anything good lately? I'm starving!" The voice called out once more.
You froze, not even halfway down the stairs as your eyes found the familiar frame of your childhood friend standing in the living room, a skateboard tucked under his arm.
The man in question sensed a pair of eyes on him immediately, head-turning towards your direction.
"No shit... Y/N, you're back?!" He gawked at you, eyes nearly bulging out of his face.
"Hobi. Yeah, I'm... Hi." You failed to respond intelligently, too busy taking him in.
You hardly recognize him. He had cut his hair, front and sides gelled up, showing off his bleached tips.
He had traded his usual pair of slip-on vans for a couple of low top pumas, his shoelaces dirty and untied. His favorite nine-inch nails t-shirt was nowhere to be seen, instead sporting a plain baggy, red t-shirt under his North Face jacket.
And most jarring of all was the pooka shell necklace hanging off his neck.
"You look..."
"Yeah, I ditched the whole eyeliner and black t-shirt thing.” He shrugged nonchalantly.
Jeez. What else had changed since you were gone?
You made your way down the stairs.
"Still rocking flannel, I see. You haven’t changed at all.” He grinned warmly. You couldn't help but smile back, his good mood infectious.
"I guess I haven't."
For as long as you had lived at your grandmother's, Hoseok had been your next-door neighbor and favorite friend, running in the same circle all throughout high school.
"Kind of miss the blue, though." He teased, swatting at your hair playfully.
Pressing your lips together, you offered him a bittersweet smile, suddenly overwhelmed with emotion. Seeing Hoseok standing here... being back in this town... it almost felt like being a teen again.
Memories of running out the door early Monday mornings with your school bag in hand and a toast in your mouth as you ran to catch the bus flooded you. You remembered how you'd climb on panting, Hoseok and several other friends waving you over to join them at the back of the bus.
Hoseok reminded you of passing notes in class and throwing paper balls at crabby teachers when they weren't looking. He reminded you of sitting at lunch, the cafeteria deafening but still somehow being able to hear everyone at your table. He reminded you of sneaking out to concerts and holding onto your friends as you sang along to some angsty song about the world being against you and life sucking.
He reminded you of what life was like when you first met Jimin. When Hoseok introduced him to you the first day of sophomore year in homeroom. When you and Jimin used to hold hands under the lunch table, chatting with friends while secretly whispering sweet nothings in each other's ears. When you and Jimin locked eyes suddenly at a Nirvana concert, kissing each other during their cover of Molly's Lips.
Seeing the way tears had found your eyes, he stepped towards you.
"Hey, c'mon now... don't you start with the waterworks. I'll start crying too."
He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in for a warm hug that made you cry harder.
"I missed you." You whimpered, hands gripping his jacket.
You had missed your old life. You didn't realize it until now, but god, there was so much you missed here.
"I missed you too, kid." He hummed, giving you one final squeeze.
"Oh my, isn't this a sweet reunion." Your grandmother finally reappeared, a happy smile on her face.
You laughed, wiping away at your cheeks with the back of your hand. It had been quite a while since you had cried this much.
"Grams, I had no idea you and Hobi hung out." You raised a brow, offering the two unlikely friends one final sniffle.
"Are you kidding? Elvie is cool as shit. Plus, her baking? Y/N, you had it made." He enthused. Your grandmother merely laughed, clearly finding the young man amusing.
"Hoseok keeps me up to date with everything fresh and hip, darling. He helped me get this pager, look!" She gestured towards her hip where, sure enough, a shiny new pager laid hooked on her belt.
"Elvie and I are best buds now. Isn't that right, Gramcracker?" Hoseok smirked at you.
"No diggity, no doubt!" She concurred. You watched in horror as Hoseok and your grandmother's hands met, dabbing each other up.
"Oh my god. You're a grandma thief."
Hoseok waved you off dismissively, "Don't even, Y/N. Grammy loves all her grandchildren equally—"
You let out a snicker, shoving his shoulder playfully, "Except you're not her grandkid, I am."
"Don't leave your grandma behind for someone else to snatch her up then."
There wasn't an ounce of malice in his tone, but you knew exactly what he meant. You left. Things changed. You just weren't here to know. Sensing the shift in mood, Hoseok cleared his throat, a sheepish smile displayed across his face.
"You back for good?"
"Just visiting." You shook your head. "It's been a while."
"Too long." Your grandmother reminded you, setting herself back down onto the couch.
"Well… if you're down for a little reminiscing, Guyi's throwing a party. I was on my way there just now."
"Guyi?" A smile broke out on your face. "God, I can't believe she's still here."
The last image of Guyi you had in your brain was back from senior year, standing in front of your graduating class. She was brilliant, chosen to speak to you and your peers as valedictorian. You still remembered how the class erupted in giggles as she made her way up to the podium, her thick frames and dark bangs the only parts of her you could make out, the rest of her small frame hidden by the tall, wooden structure.
"Of course, she is. We all are." He shrugged.
Seeing your old friends... the idea ignited something inside you, something that read between the lines of excitement and fear. You thought about them from time to time, of course, wondering what sorts of trouble they had gotten up to without you. Yes, you suppose you would like to see them all again.
"Ah, but…" You shook your head, "I just got here. Grams and I still have so much to catch up on–"
Your grandmother let out a huff, waving her hand at you as if to dispel your worries.
"Oh, nonsense! Go have fun with your friends, darling. I'm not going anywhere."
You quirked a brow at her, "Are you sure?"
Of course, she wanted to keep you all to herself. But she wasn't the only one you left behind. Every now and again, she would run into one of your friends, be it at Walmart or the local breakfast spot. They always offered her a hello, some even going so far as to stop and chat.
"As long as you promise you aren't either and that you don't do anything reckless." She wagged her finger, expression growing stern. "I'm serious, Y/N. I am too damn old for any more of your shenanigans."
You laughed, nodding sincerely, "I promise. I really do."
Hoseok's eyes flickered between the two family members, enjoying the good atmosphere.
"So, are you coming with?" He finally asked.
"Sure." You exhaled, throwing your hands up as a nonverbal why not!
"Righto! Let's bounce." He clapped his hands together decidedly. He sent your grandmother a friendly wink. "Later, Elvie."
"Bye, darlings, be safe! Don't stay out too late!" She called out after the forms of you and your childhood friend walking out the front door.
It shut with a heavy thud, the grand door as aged as the house itself. You bounded down the porch's final steps, your open flannel shirt floating behind you as you fought to catch up with Hoseok, who apparently walked faster than you could blink.
"Did something happen between you two while I was gone? Should I be worried?" You teased.
As delightful as it was to see them getting along well, you couldn't help but wonder if Hoseok had other motives, given the promiscuous nature of his teen years.
"I'm not banging your Grams, dude." He rolled his eyes. "Didn't say you were."
"You were thinking it."
"Oh, definitely." You grinned, reaching his front driveway.
Hoseok had been planning of skateboarding over to Guyi's house. It was a fifteen minute trip by board that he usually didn't mind making, but considering his board was only made to fit one, he figured by car was the way to go.
"I'm a changed man, Y/N." He informed you as he slipped into the driver's seat beside you. "I've been seeing the same girl for two years now."
"You're kidding! I so didn't peg you as the type to ever settle down." You confessed.
"Time's a funny thing." Was his insightful answer, earning a hum in agreement from you.
The Hoseok you remembered from high school had no interest in relationships. He was the first to tell you and Jimin “get a room!” whenever you two were particularly affectionate in public. It was nice to hear that he had settled down with someone.
The two of you reached the party in no time. Your fingers fiddled with your seatbelt buckle as you peered out the car window, quickly recognizing some of the party-goers standing by the front door as people you had gone to school with.
Wow. You really were the only one who made it out of this town, huh?
You and Hoseok slipped into the house reasonably unnoticed. Only a few people had bothered to pull away from their own conversations to look at the party's newest arrivals.
"I feel awkward." You said, crossing your arms over your chest as you stood by the stairs, Hoseok scanning the room for his girlfriend.
"Don't feel awkward." He said.
"Wow. All better, thanks." You rolled your eyes.
"There she is!" He cheered, locking eyes with a pretty girl with neon pink hair.
A wide smile broke across her face, excitedly making her way over from across the room.
"Baby! You made it!" She threw her arms around her boyfriend's neck, the couple sharing a kiss.
The pink-haired girl pulled back with a giggle, the two lost in their little loved up world as she ran her thumb across his lip, wiping away at the red lipstick that had transferred over. They looked so in love– you almost felt intrusive for watching their small little moment.
"Baby, this is–"
"Oh, snap! Y/N? You're back!" Her brown eyes widened.
You flashed her a polite smile, mind floundering through your memories to try and remember how the hell you knew this girl, her face familiar but somehow not all the same.
Sensing your uncertainty, Hoseok was quick to step in.
"Y/N, meet my girlfriend, Gwen. She went to high school with us."
Gwen? You ran your eyes over the colorful girl, her shirt cropped and baggy pants low cut, her midriff bare. Surely you would've remembered someone as cool as her.
"You probably don't remember me, we didn't talk back then or anything. I kind of didn't talk to anyone, just did my school work and avoided eye contact. We had homeroom together senior year."
"Holy shit!" Your eyes widened in recognition.
Goody Two Shoes Gwendolyn? The more you stared at Gwen, the more you realized you were indeed right. The colorful girl standing in front of you was the shy, conservative teen that used to sit in the back of class, sporting Mary Jane shoes and two twin braids ever single day.
"It's so nice to actually meet you. I always thought you were just like… the coolest." She gushed.
"You did?"
"Dude, yes! How you dressed and your blue hair? Super cool, I was way jealous."
"Man, the blue hair seems to be favorite around here. It might just have to make a comeback."
"Well, if you need an extra pair of hands, I'm your gal." Gwen winked, flipping her own vibrant hair over her shoulder, making both Hoseok and you laugh.
"She did my hair too," Hoseok added, wanting in on the conversation.
The three of you fell into a conversation of bleach and hair dye, and for a moment, you realized how nice this was. Talking to someone and knowing they'd be here the next day. Things were so different in the city, where every meeting was by accident, and everyone ran on their own schedule.
Time moved slower here, you realized. You supposed you could see the appeal in that.
"Oh my god, Y/N? Is that you?" A voice pulled you from the conversation.
You turned to the host of the party, Guyi, smiling down at you from her spot the stairs. You giggled as she bounced down the remaining stairs, rushing over with open arms.
"Guyi!" You met her hug enthusiastically, wrapping your arms tight against the tiny girl.
"What are you doing here?" She exclaimed, disbelief dripping from every syllable.
Your shoulders jerked up in a casual shrug, "Just in town for a visit. Been a while."
"Yeah, no shit Sherlock. Man, how are you?"
Back in your younger years, Guyi had been your best friend, her relaxed demeanor, and take no one's shit attitude to win you over back in elementary school. While the two of you distanced a bit in high school due to differing interests and social crowds, you always remained friendly, making sure to wave and smile at each other in the halls.
"You gotta see everyone else. They're gonna freak when they see you." The dark-haired girl insisted once you two had caught up. "They're all in my room, c'mon."
You didn't have time to protest as Hoseok and Gwen immediately moved to follow Guyi. She made her way towards the stairs, leaving you with no choice but to follow the only people in this room you felt comfortable around.
The wooden steps creaked under your weight, giving away their age. You could hear the sound of chatter from Guyi's room from here and watched as each of your friends made their way in.
And that's when you saw him, sat idly on the bed, a tattoo-covered arm stretched out beside him as he held up his weight.
Before he could see you, and before you could convince yourself out of it, you were making your way back down the stiars, heart clamoring embarassingly.
This was a mistake. Sure, you knew there was a chance you might run into Jimin here, but seeing him – actually seeing him – sent your heart into a frenzy, telling you that you weren't quite as over him as you tried to convince yourself. You stood at the bottom of the stairs with a hand against your chest, holding back your heart for fear it might jump out.
"Hey, what's the dealio?" You heard over your shoulder, causing you to turn and see Hoseok descending towards you.
He was mid-conversation with a friend when he realized that you were nowhere to be seen, scanning the house from the top of the stairs only to find you stood at the bottom of it, your hands latched onto the railing as if fearful you might fall to your feet without it.
"What are the chances that Jimin doesn't hate my guts?" You muttered, stomach-churning.
He must be angry – he had to be. You had left without a single word or ounce of a heads up. No girlfriend does that, and no boyfriend should forgive you for that.
"What, have you not spoken to him since you kicked him to the curb?"
"I didn't– not on purpose, at least." You hissed, keeping your voice low out of sheer fear that he might hear you and walk out to find you cowering like a loser. "So, does he hate me or what?"
Hoseok pressed his brows together as if to think.
"Well… I mean, the first year you were gone, he was a wreck. Cried a bunch. He was always at your grandma's house. It's why I started chilling there in the first place."
"By the second year, after everyone realized that you probably weren't kidnapped and had just left town, he kind of went through this weird phase where he turned into an ass. We hardly hung out. He kept to himself or whatever. He's chilled out, though. Hasn't mentioned you since." Hoseok recapped nonchalantly.
"Ugh, this was a bad idea." You felt nauseous, and there wasn't a drop of alcohol in your system. Hoseok let out a sigh, resting an elbow on your shoulder as he leaned into you.
"Look, the way I see it is... you're both adults now, right? You can either suck it up, go in there and be an adult, or you can spend the rest of the night wigging out and hiding from him like a little bitch baby." He concluded.
"Well, jeez, when you put it like that..."
"Is this not why you came back? To reconnect with everyone or whatever?"
"I guess." You pouted.
He had a point. If not today, then when? Your feelings aside, if you could maintain a friendship with Jimin, your heart would be content. To know that he was okay… that he was happy… well, that would make this entire trip worth it.
Man, since when was Hoseok this smart? He really was a changed man.
And with that vote of courage in mine, the two of you headed back up.
"Gang, guess who's back in town?" The bleach tipped boy announced, an arm wrapped around your shoulder encouragingly.
Any form of courage, however, up and packed its bags, making a beeline towards the front door the second your eyes met Jimin’s.
You held his stare in silence as color from his face drained, lips parting as his jaw fell slack. He looked like he had seen a ghost – no, worse – like he had been punched in this stomach. It was as if he had been wounded all this time and seeing you in front of him was the final blow.
"Holy shit!"
"Oh my god!"
"No way! Y/N?"
Your old peers' excited calls fell onto deaf ears, however, as your mind grew blank the momen Jimin's eyes snapped away from yours, head turning away coldly and mouth pressed together tightly.
You swore you could hear the sound of your heart cracking, unsure if you had enough strength to keep the pieces in place.
"Hi, guys." You blinked back the urge to cry.
He looked away. He actually looked away.
You were on autopilot, making conversation with everyone else in the room, mind, and heart still fixated on the one person who didn't dare talk to you.
Why were you upset? You already told yourself that he was going to be angry. He had every right to ignore you. To think that you could just show up years later and assume everything would go back to normal... what a fool you were.
You took a seat at Guyi's vanity, hands tucked between your knees as you tried your best to stay engaged in a conversation you hardly could focus on.
"Nah, man. Rachel and Ross are endgame for sure." A boy named Jungkook insisted, causing a multitude of groans to ring out.
"It's so obvious the writers want us to root for them." Hoseok grunted, earning a nod of agreement from Gwen.
Guyi brought her packet of M&Ms to her mouth, tearing it open with her teeth, "I'm kind of rooting for Monica and Chandler."
"Huh? Where did you get that idea?" Jungkook inquired.
Guyi took a moment to chew, swallowing down her chocolate treat.
"The last episode that aired! Chandler says he and Monica should get married if they're 40 and single." She continued.
"Monica and Chandler, huh…" Gwen contemplated.
"Eh, I don't see it." Jungkook said.
"The show is only a season in, who knows."
It was downright painful how obviously Jimin was going out of his way to not meet your eyes.
“Someone should make a TV show about us. We're a group of likable young adults." Hoseok declared suddenly.
You couldn't help but snicker at that assumption.
"That's not what Mr. Duval said." You reminded.
Hoseok let out an audible scoff, "Fuck Duval. That old fart-knocker gave me eight detentions."
"And you deserved every single one of them." Guyi countered, a light-hearted grin on her face. A couple laughs from the room showed support for her claim.
"This town is too boring to get a TV show." A girl named Willow began suddenly, ignoring the current topic.
You fought the urge to roll your eyes. You never cared much for Willow throughout school. She was precisely the kind of catty cheerleader that movie writers wrote about. Frankly, you were surprised she was here at all since you quite vividly remembered and her group making snarky comments whenever you and your friend's passed by.
But considering how she had her hand intertwined with Jungkook's, it would seem that her romantic habits had lead her here.
"We're not that bad," Jimin spoke up for the first time since you arrived, "we've got a Walmart now."
"Wait, seriously?" You responded to him before you could stop yourself. Wanting to talk to him felt so natural that you couldn't even help it.
For what must have been a few seconds, but felt like an eternity, he met your eyes. For what felt like an eternity, the world slowed, and those eyes were the ones that loved you back and not that ones the stared at you like you were a stranger.
His hair was dark. Darker than you remembered, which you took as a sign that he had dyed it. He wore a loose-fitted white t-shirt, the tattoo of a sparrow creeping from underneath his collar and onto his neck. His face was sharper – more handsome somehow now that puberty had come and gone.
You felt your face heat up.
"Between 5th and Winchester." Was his lackluster reply, eyes flickering away from yours.
"Oh sure, a Walmart. Big whoop." Willow continued. "Seriously, nothing interesting ever happens here. Nothing! I mean, not since—"
Her voice trailed off suddenly. You turned towards the blonde girl only to find that her eyes were already on you, staring sympathetically as she pressed her lips together.
You knew at once that that was what she meant.
Not since the freak house fire that killed both your parents.
It was written out for you word for word in the way pity and sadness graced her expression, offering you silent condolences.
Everyone caught on to her blunder, all turning towards you with those same eyes. The eyes that followed you from the day of their funeral up until the very day you left this small, gossiping town. God. It had been so long since you had to walk around with the Dead Parents title smacked on your forehead.
Back in the city, no one knew. No one thought to ask. No one pried into your past life, nor did you theirs. Everyone was so busy all the time that your trauma hardly had time to come up for conversation.
Like some sort of sixth sense, you felt as Jimin's eyes burned into you, your past love sitting still and silent as the others surrounding you. The urge to flee prickled at your skin.
What a funny thing.
To think that everyone here got to speak of your parents' death freely as if it were just an article they read in a newspaper once. Your perfect little town stained by the unkemptness of their burnt home and the uncomely manner in which they died.
"YN, I'm sorry—" Willow's apology was cut off short at the sight of you pushing yourself off the chair, a tight-lipped smile on your face.
"It's all good. I'm gonna go get something to drink." You told her quickly, throat constricting.
"Way to go, moron." You heard the sound of what you assumed was Guyi's angry jab.
"My bad, I'm not used to her being back, jeez!"
You needed something. Anything. Something to drown yourself in to forget the way you wanted the ground to sink in and take you with it.
Walking into the kitchen, you found a half-empty bottle of Bacardi vodka, the cap nowhere to be seen.
That'll do.
"Rough night?" A low voice called from behind you.
You set your shot cup down, grimacing as your fifth shot made its way down your throat. Eyeing your newly arrived company, you quirked an eyebrow at him. He was attractive, his hair a soft mint color, and his outfit entirely black. Unlike everyone else in this house, however, you had no clue who this man was, setting you slightly on edge.
"Something like that." You replied, watching the unfamiliar man pour himself a shot. "You?"
"Eh, my ex is here. Kind of a buzzkill." He told you, downing the liquid poison. "Care to join me?"
Raising a brow at the mint haired man, you reached for your shot glass, pouring the two of you a drink.
"Cheers." You shrugged, tapping your glass into his.
The two strangers swallowed down the bitter liquid, bonding over the way your faces crumpled up in mild revulsion. He grinned as you wiped at the corners of your mouth, picking up the remnants of alcohol that had missed your mouth.
"Since we're drinking buddies now, is there a name that goes along with that liver of steel?" He teased, causing you to snicker.
You held a hand out, "Y/N."
"Yoongi." He introduced back, taking your hand into his large one.
"You're not from here, are you?" You cocked your head at him. "I feel like I've never seen you before."
"Ah, yeah, I'm originally from Chicago," Yoongi told you.
An excited gasp fell from you, face exploding into a wide grin.
"No way! I love Chicago!"
"You've been?" His eyes widened.
He hadn't met a single person his age here who had ever made it out of this town for any reason other than a concert.
"I kind of hop around from city to city, but I always come back to Chi-Town. You guys have the best deep dish pizza." You enthused.
"God, don't remind me. I've been craving one for ages now." Yoongi grumbled, rubbing at his stomach comically.
The conversation paused briefly as the two of you took another shot.
"So, what brings you here to the middle of nowhere?"
"Moved here last year." He explained.
"Wow." You blinked. "I only ever thought people we're trying to get out of this town, not move to it."
The two of you exchanged laughter, more alcohol making its way down your throats as you bonded over memories of the city and The Smashing Pumpkins and Green Day concerts you both attended there.
Yoongi was nice. Or maybe you were just looking for a distraction. Whichever it was, it lead to your mouth on his, tongue thrashing against his messily as the two of you backed into a spare bedroom, your hands under his shirt and his on your waist.
You were drunk, way too drunk to be hooking up with a random boy while your ex-boyfriend was somewhere upstairs. Still, the alcohol in your system spurred you on, clinging onto Yoongi as if he were the only thing in this room that made sense.
You fell back onto the bed with a giggle, preening as he hovered over you, his mouth finding your neck, showering it with kisses between his breathy laughter.
"Did you check in here–"
Your eyes flickered up towards the half-opened door lazily, widen suddenly as you met a pair that mimicked your shock.
"What the fuck?" Jimin audibly cursed, eyes burning holes into the back of Yoongi's form.
Your hands pressed back against Yoongi's chest hurriedly, who hadn't even noticed the sudden intrusion, still working at your neck. He let out a noise of confusion as he pulled himself off you, turning around to face the glowering boy staring at the two of you as if you had just committed some heinous act.
"Well, fuck." Yoongi began, running a hand to rub at his neck.
"Um…" You fumbled around for anything of substance to say, the tension in the room thick enough to cut with a knife.
Yoongi cleared his throat, offering you a sheepish look before turning to Jimin.
"Right, uh… Jimin, meet Y/N." He jerked his head towards you. "Y/N… meet my ex."
Suddenly, your stomach did a one-eighty, and you all the alcohol you had downed within the past hour was at your throat, jaw falling slack.
"I'm gonna be sick." You gaped.
You pulled back from the toilet bowl, falling back on the bathroom floor, contents of your stomach flushing down the drain.
Man. Here you were barfing in your old childhood best friend's house while your ex-boyfriend and his ex (who you just made out with) stood by the door, watching over you.
Not your finest hour.
"Hey, there you are. She had too much to drink." A voice which you recognized as Jimin's called out to someone. You had shut your eyes, the small room spinning around you.
Guyi pushed her way past the boys, walking over to crouch by you, a hand coming to rub soothing circles into your back.
"Hi," you opened an eye to glance over at your new companion, "I puked."
"I heard." She nodded, handing you a cup of water she had brought from the kitchen. "Rinse."
"I'm sorry." You frowned.
You took a large swig, washing it around your mouth, not wanting to further trouble your old friend. Spitting the water back out into the bowl, you sat compliantly as Guyi dabbed your mouth dry with some toilet paper.
And suddenly, you were giggling, realizing how ridiculous this all was. You made out with Jimin's ex! And he had walked in on you two! What kind of cruel joke was this? Someone had it out for you, you were sure of it.
Guyi placed a hand on top of your head, patting it as you continued to laugh to yourself.
"I'm... so... sorry!" You managed to get out between giggles, "I'm fine, I promise!"
You didn't have to explain yourself to her, though. She understood. She pulled you into her and rested her head against yours, wishing she could do more for you.
When you left all those years ago, she couldn't help but wished she had made more effort to reach out. It didn't matter how much the two of you had drifted. What you had gone through... she just should have made more of an effort. Because the girl beside her was not fine. Not today, at least.
"Someone should take her home, she shouldn't be out like this." Guyi turned towards the two boys by the door.
"She came with Hobi, right? Where's he?" Jimin pressed.
Guyi let out a sigh, the kind of noise that came from the party host who had spent the past hour running around and making sure there was enough ice and cups and that everyone was okay.
"Well, Gwen's currently in my bathroom in a worse state than Y/N is. Hobi's up there looking after her."
"Shit," Jimin muttered, voice low.
You straightened up suddenly, something important crossing your mind.
"Gwen is Hobi's girlfriend. She is so pretty. I'm so happy for him." You babbled drunkenly.
Jeez, would this room stop spinning already?
"I can take her home."
You turned to look up at Jimin, unsure if you had heard him correctly.
"You can?" The girl beside you asked.
"Yeah." His eyes held yours briefly. "She's staying at Elvie's, I'm assuming? I know the way."
You let out a small breath, "That's so nice."
"Okay, perfect." Guyi agreed.
If Guyi knew anything about your life in high school, it was that you and Jimin were practically inseparable. Everyone at school knew that you two were the couple that was getting married out of high school.
Or, at least, that's what they always thought.
"Jimin... is so nice."
"C'mon. Up we go." She ignored your useless muttering, hands holding yours as she helped you onto your feet.
"Woah!" You giggled once you stood, gravity seeming to pull at you every which way.
"Here, let me help."
And suddenly, happening faster than your drunk brain could register, you had an arm around Jimin, the sweet boy allowing you to use his body as leverage.
How nice.
"Everyone! My ex-boyfriend is so nice!" You announced, Jimin leading through the house and towards the front door.
He smelled just as you remembered, you noticed. Like warm vanilla. It made you want to bury yourself into his chest and never let go.
Why did you let go?
"I'm so happy you don't hate me. I have so much I want to talk to you about. We should catch up. You have so many tattoos now, wow!"
"Hold that thought until we get in the car, okay?" The attractive boy lead you towards the sidewalk, clearly knowing where he had parked his car. You, on the other hand, could hardly make left from right, your eyelids heavy and body even heavier.
You heard the sound of some other people talking, also heading towards their car it seemed. A familiar beep caught your attention, and you focused your eyes to see Jimin's familiar car in front of you donning a shiny new red paint.
"Hey, I lost my virginity in this car!" You mused loudly.
Jimin fought back a blush as the people within earshot all turned towards you two with newfound interest. He cleared his thraot.
"Keep your voice down." He scolded you, clearly embarrassed, hand on your back as he ushered you towards his car. "God, were you always this unfiltered?"
"Sheesh, what are you icing my grill for? You're the one who took it." You reminded.
Admittedly, your nonchalantness was amusing, and if it were any other circumstance, he might have allowed you the laugh he had suppressed.
"Where are your keys?" You asked, palm extending out expectantly.
Jimin eyed it bewilderedly. You made a grabbing motion with your fingers.
The scoff that fell from Jimin's mouth could be heard from inside the house, he was sure. "Idiot. Just get in the car."
Your mouth fell in disbelief as if you genuinely couldn't believe that he had denied your request.
"Like hell I'm letting you drive drunk. I'm not losing you too." He chided.
And suddenly, you remembered how Jimin had lost his brother in this exact scenario. Oh man, you were an asshole.
"Dammit," Your face crumpled up in regret, "are you pulling the dead brother card on me?"
"I'm pulling the dead brother card."
"Fine. But just for the record, I'm only doing this for Jihoon." You wagged a finger at him, heading towards the passenger seat, still just as stubborn as he remembered.
He shrugged back at you, "Works for me."
"Wait." You paused, hand on the door handle.
"Y/N, you are not driving this car–"
"No, no. Grams… I don't want her to see me like this. I promised her I wouldn't be reckless and it's my first day back, and I don't want to disappoint her again—"
"Okay." Jimin cut you off with a nod.
Jimin shoved a hand into his pocket casually, blissfully unaware of just how attractive he was under the moonlight. Oh, God, your face was starting to heat up.
"I can take you to mine. You can sober up there." His trailed eyes up and down your form, as if taking it in for the first time.
You felt dizzy, but this time it wasn't just because of your inebriated state. You were intoxicated – intoxicated by the way his plush pink lips wrapped around his words, lost in the memories of those lips pressing into your skin, warming you up in a way no liquor ever could.
Intoxicated by how low his collar stretched, and how black ink was etched onto one of his pretty collarbones, covering the spots where your mouth used to leave bruises.
"Do you have a problem with that idea?"
You nearly jumped, face definitely flaming hot now that he had caught you openly ogling him.
"No, no! It's a great idea! Thanks." You bobbed your head awkwardly, slipping into his car without another word.
This was cruel.
Sleeping under the familiar duvet of the boy you had spent so many of your teen years in love with was inarguably cruel. And watching as that very same boy slipped into bed beside you, his body as far from you as he could manage, was utter heartbreak.
The car ride to his had been dead silent. You didn't know what to say. It was your first moment alone with Jimin in years, a scene that had played in your head a countless number of times, yet you couldn’t speak. You hadn't the nerve to try and start up a conversation after knowing all the worrying and frustration you had put him under by disappearing.
Jimin's room was located in the backyard of his parent's house, a shed him and his father had built that he later went on to turn into a bedroom when he was old enough to want to do so. You always thought it was the coolest. Walls covered in posters and old newspaper clippings that Jimin had been collecting since he was young.
You had spent countless days and nights here, growing to love the space in the same way you loved the boy it belonged to.
"I'm sorry." You spoke finally, voice hardly above a whisper, thinking back to the way you and he used to stare up at this exact ceiling, limbs intertwined, and heart rate synced.
It was a weighted question, one that made you pull the sheets up towards your chin, wishing to pull them over your head and let the soft fabric suffocate you.
"For getting too drunk and making out with your ex. And making you take care of me even though I know I'm the last person you'd want to share a bed with." You replied.
You watched as Jimin's expression noticeably hardened, your answer seemingly not the one he was hoping to hear.
"I'm doing your grandmother a favor. You've given her enough reason to worry." He told you dryly.
And there it was. That wall he had spent the last four years building up against you.
You let the silence hang in the air, unsure if the urge to throw up again was alcohol-induced or due to the way that Jimin despised you and how you couldn't even grant yourself the pleasure of wallowing in self-pity because, in this story, you were the villain – the selfish antagonist who had turned the once sweet boy entirely sour.
This Jimin was nothing like the one you had left. He didn't look at you fondly like he used to. Like you were the only person in the world that mattered. It felt as if his stare went right through you like you were nothing more but a ghost of his past. A lingering memory he'd much rather forget.
"Night." Was his heartfelt closing statement, his body moving to turn his back towards you, making the mattress cry out.
"Do you hate me?" You asked.
"Y/N." He sighed.
He didn't have to face you for you to know that his brows were pulled together. Because it didn't matter how many years had past, you still remembered everything – every nuance and mannerism, every little way that he was Jimin, and that he was your favorite person in the world.
"Do you?" Your drunkenness was getting the best of you. But still, you wanted to know.
You could take it, you decided.
"No. I don't." He revealed quietly.
"You should. After what I did to you… you should." You concluded. Who were you saying this for? Him? Yourself? Maybe it would be easier if he did hate you. You could move on. You could silence the clamoring in your chest.
"I know."
And he did. But despite his perceivable indifference, he couldn't hate you. Hell knows he had spent the past four years trying to.
He dedicated the days after your disappearance to finding you, asking every neighbor if they had seen you leave and finding out through the bus station vender that you had purchased a ticket to Seattle. He followed after you, but by the time he reached the city, you were already long gone, just another interchangeable head in the crowd.
He spent weekends at your grandmother's house, accompanying her to the cemetery as she cried over your parents' graves, praying for your safety.
Eventually, he couldn't take it anymore, pushing you far from his mind and burying himself in learning everything he could about cars and helping his dad out in his shop. Because if he spent any more time thinking about the girl who had broken his heart, he'd never finish picking up all the pieces.
"I don't think I could ever hate you, Minnie." That same girl announced suddenly, sounding sincere.
At the sound of your old nickname for him, something inside him stirred.
And still, you left, he thought back bitterly.
"Sleep." He replied instead, letting out a breath.
"Will you pet my head?" You asked suddenly as if forgetting what you had just been talking about entirely.
"This doesn't sound like sleeping." He grumbled.
"You used to. Was nice. Always slept well when you did."
"Good night, Y/N."
His tone was absolute; he would not budge no matter how much you tried to sway him. So you gave up. Nuzzling further into the pillow, you shut your eyes and willed yourself to rest.
He lay beside you silently as minutes turned into an hour, listening to the way your breathing hallowed out and sleep lulled you away.
And before he could stop himself, he turned to face you, hand reaching over to rest upon the top of your head, running a thumb across your forehead gently, chest tightening as you relaxed into his touch.
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sunshyngal · a month ago
Perfect Imperfections.
Jeon Jungkook x OC 
Genre : Arranged Marriage AU! Angst! Explicit Sexual Content. 
Rating : 21+ 
Warnings : Ableism , Chronic disability. OC has limited use of her left leg, Emotional infidelity? Mild Cheating ( nothing very physical.. a kiss or so ) 
Summary : Marrying Jungkook is a mistake. Falling in love with him? Definitely the worst exercise in masochism . 
[ This is nothing but me indulging my love for writing bad cliches. That is it. Its literally a fest of cliche k drama tropes] 
Chapter 1
After the accident, my life had become something of a stagnant pond. 
Everyday began much the same. 
The alarm, mild but not jarring. Not very shrill but definitely insistent, sweeping away any lingering traces of sleep. I blinked awake, cobwebs of exhaustion still marring my vision but a few deep breaths, a few more blinks and I was awake .
And now came the harder part.
Getting my legs to work. 
It never got better, despite the many years that I’d spent in physiotherapy. All it really did was stop it from getting worse. Or maybe I’d just gotten used to the pain at this point. 
Deep breaths helped. Sometimes. 
But not today. 
“Mrs Jeon?” The familiar voice made me jump a little. 
“Sana...” I said, relieved. “ Could you come over? Seems like I’m going to need some help today.” I laughed nervously, gripping the sheets harder.” Could you help me sit up?” 
The girl moved closer, feet nimble and quick and sure and i felt my throat clench in envy. I swallowed it down though, just the way I swallowed every bad thing that came my way. 
It had been eight years ago.
 A fall from a fifty feet ravine. Cuts and scrapes all over my body, abrasions all over my torso. And legs that had absolutely shattered on impact. Multiple fractures. Motor Nerve Damage on my left leg. 
The skin stitched together. The bones grew back. 
But the nerve damage stayed. 
I wasn’t completely helpless. I could walk with the brace. Slowly and with a mildly awkward gait but I could walk. Even better if I was using crutches. 
But it wasn’t something I could hide. 
People looked at me and that was the first thing that they noticed. 
The girl who couldn’t walk. 
I sat still, gripping the edge of the bed as Sana carefully grabbed the brace and helped me put it on. I watched as she carefully set the loops in place, fixed the velcro and finally helped set my toes in place. 
“Thank you.” i whispered and she nodded.
“Mr. Jeon left early. He said that he won’t be home tonight.” 
I smiled a little. 
“I’m sorry. I know you don’t want to be caught between us. It must make you feel uncomfortable.” I said . 
She looked surprised but quickly ducked her head
“No, Mrs. Jeon.” 
I sighed.
“You may leave. I’ll come down soon.” I said quietly. 
How handsome he looked, in that beautiful dark suit. How strong and handsome and ...whole. 
Right next to a framed article about us from a magazine.
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Jungkook ran  marathons and trained as a boxer. He worked as the managing director at a steel manufacturing unit . Spent his days overseeing workers in the smelting units, and everyone knew that it wasn’t uncommon to see the Jeon heir, shirtless and sweaty and covered in dirt and getting down and dirty with all the other workers as the ore got delivered. 
Someone like that... Someone that perfect.... Deserved a woman who would be an equal. Beautiful and graceful and perfect. And he had had her. My sister. For three years, I’d watched my sister and Jungkook be the perfect couple . Deeply in love and so happy. 
I watched her leave, gently closing the door behind her, before shifting my gaze to the large  portrait on the opposite side of the wall. It was a picture of my husband and I taken on the day we got betrothed. 
What they hadn’t counted on was how greedy our parents could be. 
Jungkook was the younger son. And his father had long written him off as unreliable. He was wild and headstrong. Had his own ideals and morals. Wouldn’t really bend to his father’s will. So his brother was the one who would be set to inherit the company. 
And my father , with his billion dollar empire wasn’t going to give away his precious daughter and all of her inheritance to a paltry second son. 
Jungkook’s brother had married my sister. And Jungkook had been forced to marry me. A comedy of errors , except it wasn’t really funny and no one was laughing. 
I swallowed. That was seven months ago. The first few weeks had gone in stony silence and hushed whispers. I knew he was talking to my sister. Knew she was sobbing in despair on the other end. My sister and I had never gotten along. And now, she had a genuine reason to despise me. 
Three months into marriage he had a small accident at the Manufacturing Unit.A small fall, not that far. Ten feet or so, but he’d crashed into a steel structure on his way down. He had a dislocated shoulder and some flesh wounds. Not that bad. 
But my entire body had gone ice cold at the news, when i first heard it. 
It was a brutal sort of realization. 
That perhaps I wasn’t as indifferent to him as he was to me. Six weeks, with him had changed things. He didn’t talk much, other than the bare minimum but I didn’t hold it against him. I helped him anyway I could. Typed out emails for him. Helped him eat and change. 
Hands brushing and time spent together meant tension. And a shift in the way he looked at me, sometimes. I noticed, wasn’t sure if I could act on it. But he was still my husband. And I didn’t really want to spend the rest of my life celibate. 
So, even though it was so unlike me... I’d made the first move. Linked my fingers with his. Brushed my lips across his. A gesture that meant a hundred things. A touch that invited more. And he must’ve wanted it, at least physically. Because he indulged me. Gave me a glimpse of heaven on his bed. 
And yet, six weeks of being as close as two humans could be didn’t change much.  
We were strangers who slept together. Who appeared in public together. Who did everything our family expected of us. And I wasn’t sure how to bridge that awkward gap between us. Jungkook was a fiercely physical person. His free time was spent in the gym , or cycling or hiking. 
I couldn’t walk across the room without having to grip the walls for support every few minutes.                                                              
Could anyone blame him for being bitter? For being distant? For not knowing what to do with me? 
And in all this time , I’d only learnt a handful of things about my husband. How he felt on top of me. How he sounded when he came, how he looked eyebrows furrowed as he talked into his phone  and of course, how little he cared about me. 
Yes, we would have sex. Yes, he bought me a couple of gifts when he was overseas. But otherwise his heart belonged to my sister. It wasn’t something he hid. 
As the days passed, I realized that it was time to keep myself safe. That I couldn’t show him all of me anymore. He was careful with me, guarded and secretive because he was smart. He didn’t want me to know anything about him. 
There was a reason. There had to be. 
So the best thing to do would be to do the same. Build that distance between us. This was going to crash and burn someday and I had to 
And the past few weeks, he’d been busy with more deals. Some kind of MoU with some supplier had gone south and they were looking for different suppliers. Jungkook was busy. I hadn’t seen him in ten days. 
And now apparently he had come home and left without so much as seeing me. 
Sighing, I moved to the garden, walking slowly to the marble bench set under the large sweetgum tree. I settled down , sighing. I ran a palm over my belly, soft and hesitant. 
I was two and half months along. It didn’t show...thanks to the oversized clothes I wore. But it wasn’t the kind of thing you could hide forever. I wasn’t sure why I started hiding it in the first place. It was just that.... I knew that no one would be happy for me. My family would be ecstatic but for the wrong reasons.
I could already imagine .
 Finally. Now he can’t leave you. 
I felt sick to my stomach at the thought of it. At the thought of someone talking about my baby like some sort of handcuff to lock Jungkook in. 
I would have to tell him. Of course. But I didn’t know when or how . I didn’t want to hide it from him. There was no point. But ... I wasn’t quite sure i wanted to see that look of helpless disappointment in his face. 
The sound of his car drew me out of my reverie and I startled, glancing over at the wide driveway. I glanced at the time . It was a little past eleven in the morning. What was he doing here? 
“Leah! Get inside!” Jungkook’s voice rang out and I jumped. 
“Jungkook?” I stared as he all but jumped out of the car rushing to me. 
“Come on.. get up.”
“What’s going on..?” I asked, heart pounding as he gripped my elbow, drawing me into his arms. 
“Dad fucked up. Got mixed with some shady bastards and apparently, they’ve put a hit out on me and hyung.”
My heart dropped.
“What?!!” I choked out, stunned. “ Jungkook...” My fingers curled over his chest, clutching the 
“Don’t worry... we know who it is and we have guys of our own. They’ll take care of it. No one comes for a Jeon and lives to tell the tale. I just wanted to make sure you stayed in. Don’t go anywhere. there are guards all over the place. but i want you to stay home. Okay? Just till this blows over?” 
I flinched, legs aching fierce as he led me up the stairs and he stared at me, eyes dripping with worry. The look was so unlike the indifference I was used to that I could only stare. 
“Are you alright?” He asked urgently and I nodded quickly, hands curving over my stomach instinctively. 
“You’ll stay here right? With me...?” I asked softly and Jungkook hesitated. 
“I... I need to go check on Lisa.” He said stiltedly and I froze at my sister’s name.
“She’s with her husband, right?” I asked sharply, anger building out of pure fear. “ Why do you-”
“Don’t question me. Go in. Now.” He said quickly and I frowned. 
“You don’t have to go there. She has a husband of her own.” I said quietly, voice shaking. 
“I have to. I... I have to just go make sure she’s alright.” He snapped angrily and I curled my fingers into fists. 
Apparently, even when there was a very real threat to our lives, he would rather risk my life and his than let go of his obsession for my sister. i wanted to vomit. My skin felt clammy and my heart raced. I imagined him doing this when we had a kid....risking our child because he can’t stop thinking of her.... And he would do it..... Of course he would. 
“Then go.” i snapped, tears filling my eyes .  I yanked my arm out of his, stumbling a bit.
Jungkook looked shocked. 
“Leah...” He reached for me but I pulled back and away. 
“Go to her and don’t you dare come back here.” I screamed. Jungkook stiffened. 
“Leah... enough.”
“You’re right. I’ve had enough . Of your dirty pining. Of you. She’s married for god’s sake. To your brother. They’re together. Its over and done with. Why can’t you just accept it and move on?!!” I choked out. My chest hurt. 
“You knew I loved her when you married me.” He snapped back and I laughed in disbelief.
“Yes. And you knew I’d break someday. That I’d someday have enough of you treating me like I was disposable. Isn’t that why you kept at it for so long? You wanted me to be the one break things off right? So you could get out of your father’s anger...unscathed. Well, guess what. You got your wish.... I’m done!! “ 
He didn’t reply.
“Go inside. I have to go.” He said softly. 
I watched as he turned on his heel and stalked back down the driveway. 
Was it supposed to hurt this bad? My heart felt a bit like it was cleaving in two. Had I really just told him I had enough? What did that mean? Was I going to leave him? I felt my head spin , worry and fear laced with disbelief.
 Someone was out to kill him? How could he be so flippant about it? 
I shook my head. The Jeon’s were  a weird bunch. Although they were one of the richest families in our society, they lacked any of the charming social graces that came with it. For years, everyone had kept them at arm’s length because while all other families had aristocratic roots and beginnings, the Jeon’s came from a background of mining iron ore and making steel : a rugged and dirty business.
The only reason my father had agreed to 
And was I really going to leave him? where did I even begin? I couldn’t leave. I had no home to go to. My parents would take one look at me and send me back to Jungkook. I felt like a prize fool. I was stuck here. For eternity. That was all there was to it. 
A decade ago, I’d had a future. But that evening on that mountain trail had changed my life forever. I was , for all intents and purposes disabled. I couldn’t just walk out of here and build a life for myself. I wouldn’t last a day. 
I dragged myself to the living space, stopping when i saw how deserted the place looked. 
There were usually people bustling about. Especially so close to lunch. 
“Sana!!!” I called out, only to be met with the echoing silence of my own voice. And then a few seconds later she appeared , 
“Mrs. Jeon.... Is Mr. Jeon here?”
“He just left... Is everything okay?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Where is everyone? Are all of you busy?” I asked nervously. 
She bowed. “ Yes, ma’am.... The rest of us are cleaning out the pantry and Cook’s in the kitchen. Seul and Leejin are out in the backyard cleaning the statues near the koi pond. Mr. Jeon’s asked all the footmen and guards to stay around the perimeter. Will you need anything else?
“No... I’ll just rest till lunch.” I said gently, waving her off.
She left. 
The eerie silence that followed told me there was nothing to do but embrace the loneliness and I hesitated, moving slowly to the window and peering out. I couldn’t see any of the guards either. 
My fingers shook a little as I moved slowly to the entryway that led into the dining space. It was dark in here, the light from outside only illuminating the west wall which had large windows set in. I moved to the windows and stared out into the Jeon estate. 
Although Jungkook was the younger brother, he had been taxed with maintaining and caring for the family estate. Not because his father trusted him but because the old man knew just how much Jungkook hated the place. 
I played with my wedding ring as i remembered the countless times I’d watched the two of them fight, Jungkook coldly still while his father hurled abuses at him. Jeon Jaesook considered his son to be incompetent and disobedient, which made little to no sense to me. 
As far as i knew Jungkook had helped increase production and had cut down operating costs significantly over the seven years that he’d been working as the managing Director at Jeon Steelworks.
But it was obvious the old man favored Jihyun, Jungkook’s older brother. Jihyun worked in the air conditioned offices located in Gangnam, the CEO taking care of all their sales and marketing while Jungkook , who had an actual degree in Business spent his days slaving away at the smelting Units, a job that was physically and mentally exhausting. 
And while it always made my stomach twist, this unfair treatment he got subjected to, there wasn’t much i could do. My father had made it clear that he wouldn’t agree to the investment, unless both his daughters married the Jeon brothers. And Jungkook’s father had made it clear that if Jungkook didn’t agree , he would be out on the streets without a penny to his name. 
My leg began aching and I turned back around ready to go settle into my workroom where I usually worked on my writing when I heard his footsteps. I glanced up, frowning. 
Jungkook stood in the doorway staring at me with an unreadable expression on his face. 
I stared at him for a few seconds, waiting for him to say something. 
When he didn’t, I sighed.
“Did you think I was going to leave?” I asked bitterly.
He sighed. 
“I’m not going to cheat on you. “
I nodded.
“I suppose you want me to thank you for that?” I shook my head. “ You don’t have to keep your worthless vows. Go sleep with her. Why would it make a difference to me?” 
He exhaled sharply. 
“I thought you understood.” He said sharply.
“I did. I do.” I said curtly “ I understand that my parents screwed the two of you over. I understand that you had to do something you absolutely did not want to. But there’s something you need to understand too. Just because I’ve accepted this, it doesn’t mean I enjoy it. It doesn’t mean I have to be happy about my husband being in love with another woman, much less my own sister.” 
Jungkook nodded. 
“Right. Got it. “ He said curtly and I flinched when another muscle twitch told me I’d been standing for too long. 
“I’m going to go lay down.”
“Do you need me to get you a heating pad? For the leg? Or send one of the girls to massage your legs?” He asked softly, stepping closer and lightly gripping my elbow when my knees buckled. 
I didn’t have much choice than to grip his forearm, because the pain was intensifying from pins and needles to proper muscle spasms. Sweat began to bead on my upper lip and i felt just a little faint. 
“Yes. “ I said , feeling pathetic. I should have used the crutches. It had been a bad day even when I woke up. I should have sensed it and taken the proper measures.
“Leah... Should I run a warm bath for you? “ Jungkook's lips brushed my ear when he leaned to hold my weight up and i stiffened. 
“That won’t be necessary. I just need help back up to the bed, thank you.” I said shortly. He looked uncertain and shook his head. 
“ okay, but I’ll get Sana to run you a warm bath and make you some willowbark Tea.” He said quietly, and when I stumbled a bit on the first step he swore. 
“This isn’t going to work.... Come here.” He said gruffly and before I could protest he bent low, gripping the back of my knees and pulling me up into his arms.
i swallowed, head spinning as I cradled the curve of my lower belly. 
 Tell him... Tell him... Tell him...
 I felt my head throb as I kept my arms wrapped tight around his shoulders. 
“I’m pregnant .” i blurted out. 
Jungkook stumbled , nearly sending the both of us tumbling down the flight of stairs and i clung to him in terror. Okay, maybe the timing could have been better.
“What?” He looked ashen. Like he’d seen an actual ghost. 
“Just thought you should know.” I muttered under my breath. 
We reached the landing and he didn’t say anything, looking away from me, his jaw taut and lips set in a  thin line. I felt my throat go sandpaper dry. He waited till we were safely in the confines of our bedroom, placing me down on the bed gently and moving to close the door and lock it. 
I stared up at the ceiling, refusing to look at his face. 
“ Leah-”
“Its fine. You don’t have to say anything. I didn’t know till a week ago myself.” 
“Have you told your parents?” 
I exhaled sharply.
“Then would you consider.... “ He trailed off and i finally stared at him. 
“No.” I said softly. 
He sighed. 
“Alright. Should  I book an appointment with Dr. Lee?” 
I laughed. 
“How very practical of you..” i said. 
“What else do you expect from me..”
“Not even an ounce of support, that’s for sure.” I snapped and he growled.
“You want me to lie? Fine.. I’m happy!! So fucking happy that we’re bringing an innocent kid into our fucked up family. ” He shouted.
 This was why I didn’t want to tell him, I thought bitterly. 
“You’re the only one who’s fucked up, Jungkook. I’m perfectly fine with myself and my choices. I can give my baby all the stability they might ever need.”
“ That’s not hat I'm talking about. do you know what its like to grow up with parents who can’t stand each other?” Jungkook shouted. 
I gaped at him. Can’t stand each other? Is that how he saw us? 
“As long as you don’t walk out on us, we’ll be fine.” I muttered despondently. 
“ Don’t worry about that. I’m not going to run away from my responsibilities. ” He said quietly.
I finally turned to look at him, placing both my hands on my stomach.
“Do you want me to leave you?” I asked honestly.” Have you ever thought about it?” 
He didn’t say anything.
“So you have.” I smiled sadly. It wasn’t surprising but it did hurt. 
“Of course I have. You’re Lisa’s sister and Lisa is my... “ He paused, shaking his head, “ But, I know you can’t. I don’t expect you to either.” He said gruffly, grabbing the intercom.
I watched as he called the housekeeper, firing off instruction for Sana and then to the cook to send some tea for me. He hung up and turned to me again.
“Lisa and I are going to go to Japan for a week. She has a conference there and I’m going to scout for locations just in case we open up a distribution office there.” 
I turned away. 
“ You don’t have to tell me all that. You didn’t before, i don’t want you to start now.” I said firmly. 
He didn’t reply and i turned back to stare at the ceiling. 
Jungkook hovered for a few seconds before moving closer to the bed and grabbing the comforter and a couple of pillows. I felt a lump in my throat as he carefully picked my leg up, placing the pillows underneath. i was almost numb from the thigh down. 
i closed my eyes as he carefully pulled the comforter over my waist, folding it over my chest. 
“Rest well.” He said quietly before walking away. i heard the door opening and then closing. 
i waited till I heard his footsteps fades away before opening my eyes and staring at the ceiling. 
I should probably put some paintings up there, I thought. 
Author’s Note : This entire fic can be summed up as me not having any self control. 
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hobipaint · 3 months ago
A Story Told On Sand
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summary: The setting sun gives time for Jungkook to cherish his family.
↳ pairing: jungkook x reader
↳ genres: fluff, like so much fluff, established relationship, slice of life au.
↳ word count: 1.4K
↳ disclaimers: none.
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a/n: A completely self indulgent Jungkook fluff drabble written at two at night haha,, I was really going through it. Written for the @bangtanwritingbingo prompt no. 14 - watching sunsets/sunrises, and for @btscreatorscorner June workshop- writing from a member's POV! a massive thank you to @jikookiekosmos for making the banner for me😭 and a massive thank you to @vaekth and @joonscore for bearing with me because I just kept talking on and on about this in your dms lol.
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Jungkook leaned back, eyes shutting close as he felt the breeze kiss over every inch of his skin. The warm sunset was only just spreading across the sky, a bright yellow turning to a scarlet - as if the sun was blushing at the idea of leaving the sky, it's lover. 
"It's nice," You sighed, hands resting over his as you looked at the sunset. 
Jungkook looked at you, smiling, and hummed in agreement. "I like this scenario, you know. A sunset, the kids are playing in the sand, and your hand in mine. My day is coming to a good end." 
You turned to face him just as he lifted your joined hands to his mouth to leave a small kiss. You smiled, with your other hand coming up to pull your hair to the side, and Jungkook remembered why he fell in love with you all over again. He looked at you, your eyes sparkling in the deep orange of the sunset, keeping his eyes locked with yours as he pulled you closer. 
Kissing you never got old. 
His lips softly settled on yours, the feeling of them feeling right. Your scent- an unlikely mix of mint, from his perfume, and chocolate, from baking with the kids earlier today- filled his surroundings - and he didn't want anything more. His hand clasped yours, thumb tracing small universes over the back of your hand - universes where it was only you, him and your family. You other hand languidly traced up his arm, curling behind the nape of his neck to pull him closer. He felt you smile, nearly giggle, and it was only seconds before the two of you pulled away and just laughed. It felt good to be here. It felt good to be with you. 
The setting sun cast beautiful spells over the waves that were splashing and playing around in the sea, washing them in shades of burnt red and gentle yellows. The glimmering swell of water that leaped over the sand had your children squealing in delight, running away from the wave. You waved them over, watching as they ran helter skelter to collect their sand toys before running the two of you. 
Jungkook spread his arms out as his daughter ran to her father, not minding the sand that stuck to her body as she leaped on him - squealing in happiness at being reunited with her partner in crime. You reached over to ruffle her hair, eyes crinkling as your son walked over and buried his face in your lap, finally exhausted with the events of the day. 
It was a vacation for you and him - time to spend with family. There were so many highs and so many lows in your daily lives that it was exhausting, even if you loved your work - and you both needed that break, even if it was only for a weekend. Now, as he watched the waves crash into each other and then end in bubbles, he felt that peace he had wanted. 
"Tomorrow, we will go back to the city. Right, dad?" Your daughter sat up and spoke to Jungkook, his hand coming up to caress the hair that flew wildly behind her, settling it behind her ear. "Yes, my bunny. We're going back tomorrow." 
"Good!" She beamed at him, and Jungkook felt his heart swell. She took his palm, and he couldn't help but be amazed at how wonderfully she had grown up - he remembered when he would walk her around with her clinging onto his pinky finger only, and now her hand fit in the palm of his hand, big enough to clutch his hand and swing it while playing games. "I wanted to show you a drawing I had made for you and mommy." 
You turned towards your daughter while petting your son's head, fingertips gently untangling the heap of curls in his hair as he slept soundly. "What drawing, baby?" 
"I made a big girl drawing. Teacher had said it was really good!" Your daughter beamed, missing incisors displayed in a beautiful smile that strangely reminded Jungkook of your own -upper lip quirking in a way that he thought only you could, till his daughter first beamed at him. The thought made him smile.
"Really? I can't wait to see it then, bub. We'll pin it on the fridge too!" You cheered for her, her eyes widening in happiness and surprise at the sudden announcement. She jumped onto both of you, nearly knocking her brother off his mother's lap as she squealed again, screaming to the waves in the distance about how she loved her family. "We will be here forever!" she said, happily clapping.
After a few more moments of excited babbling - including a certain confession she had received from a classmate ("I promised not to tell anyone, but I didn't want to hide it from you! He said he loved me!") Jungkook's shocked exclamation at his baby getting confessions, you laughing, and her defending her 'friend', she was peacefully dosing on Jungkook's lap. His hand went to softly pat her hair, humming a soft lullaby - the same one he had sung to her for years- for all the times she wouldn't sleep at night. 
Eight years, and she still paraded up to him at night to demand the lullaby, and Jungkook would simply cherish that time as he would caress her head, wishing her sweet dreams and tucking the blanket in. "It's to keep the monsters away, " he'd hear her murmur everytime, and he'd smile before returning to his wife and son in the next room, softly patting his son's cheek, kissing his wife good night, and falling asleep. 
Looking at you now - your eyes paying attention to the two year old that had curled up in your lap - he held back the sudden urge to shout in happiness like his daughter had. That's what he felt. Overwhelmed with happiness. He didn't believe that he actually got to live with this euphoria in his life. One look at the three of you made him feel so proud, so responsible, and so loved - he simply couldn't put it all into words. 
Your head came to rest on his shoulder, and Jungkook leaned his head over yours, hands finding each other. You squeezed his hand tightly, and sighed - and he understood you. This silence, this time - it all meant so much for the two of you. 
"Once we go back, we're probably not getting time like this again, are we?" You whispered, letting the words fly away with the breeze. 
"Maybe. Who knows, I'll whisk you away on a getaway next week?" He smiled, and though he couldn't see you, he knew you were smiling, too. 
"Maybe? What about our daughter's annual day, mister? Forgot so soon?" You laughed as you spoke, punching his arm playfully. "I guess my husband is turning old already." 
"Hey!" Jungkook said, trying to fake his anger even if he couldn't take the smile off his face. "I remembered it, of course I remember! I had to learn the ballet routine as well!" You laughed again, the sound familiar and known to him- his heart beating a happy beat. "I twisted round and round, over and over, and nearly ripped my pants."
"Mmmm, and I didn't see you complaining after this baby appreciated you." Jungkook watched you caress your daughter's hair, then her cheek, and settle on the sand. "You went for it all the way." 
"I would always go all the way for her. And for this pumpkin too." He pointed at his son, and you giggled. "And for you too. You're my world, you know that?" 
You raised your head to face him, Jungkook almost complaining at the loss of your body heat right near him. "And you're mine. You, and our kids. You're all my everything." 
Jungkook's eyes softened, pulling you closer for you to rest your head on him again. You leaned against his chest, and Jungkook bent down to kiss the top of your head before leaning back to bade goodbye to the sun. 
"I think sunsets look the prettiest, don't they?" You marvelled at the sky, lush shades of warm orange letting hints of blue peak through as the sky prepared for nightfall. 
I think everything looks prettier when it's with you, Jungkook wanted to say, but he lets the babble of the returning seagulls fill the space. His hands wrap around you, letting his eyes look to the sky once again, awed by everything around him now. This was all he needed. 
"I love you," he murmured, pressing another kiss to his lover as the sun set upon the evening. 
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a/n: I'm not really sure if this would be drabble length or fic length, but I'd like to think of it as a drabble. Writing this was really warm and comforting for me, so I hope that it gave you a similar feeling. I'd love to hear any feedback you have either as a comment, reblog, or as an ask! Thank you so much for giving your time to my work 💞 love, hazel 🤗
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