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hansolmates · 2 days ago
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silent night | 10
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banner made by the iconic @dnrequests​ / @dee-ehn​
summary; while you wait, unexpected closure finds their way to you pairing; dilf!jk x best friend!reader (f) genre/warnings; fluff, angst, longing, pining, mc is a homebody, unrequited love (or is it?), potential idiots 2 lovers, best friends 2 lovers, mentions of sex, haru probably sounding a lil too old for her age but she’s fictionally very intelligent  w/c; 793 a/n; wow pt 10?? the amount of violence in my inbox this week has been so entertaining thank you so much for being so invested, ty for waiting! [day by day masterpost]
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“Please, take my car and drive back to your apartment,” Jungkook says quickly, unclicking yours and his seatbelt, “take Haru with you, say you’re having a sleepover.” 
“Wait, what?” it’s not you who should be leaving, it should be Sena! “Jungkook, you can’t be serious.” 
“I don’t want Haru to see her,” Jungkook looks frustrated, his knuckles white as he grips the wheel, “what if Sena says something that throws her off? Things were getting so good.”
Were? You’re so confused. You couldn’t stop your jaw from dropping at his statement. 
You’re trying hard, so hard to understand Jungkook’s situation. Seeing him crumple like this at the sight of his ex-girlfriend and Haru’s biological mother makes your stomach churn, but you still feel unsettled at the fact that Jungkook is going to be alone in his house with her. Wouldn’t he want to be in a united front knowing that his daughter and you are there to support him? 
“Please,” Jungkook begs again, his voice is so soft and panicked, his blazing eyes darting back and forth between Haru’s sleeping ones and yours, “I’m sorry, I’ll call you later.” 
As you helplessly drive away from his house your lips burn for a kiss goodbye, reassurance that everything will be alright. 
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Somehow you ended up making your way home, all with Haru unaware of the fact that Sena is no less than fifteen minutes away from her. It’s all too easy to ignore the copious amounts of luggage the three of you packed, grabbing your duffle on one arm and Haru in the other as you make your way to your apartment. 
Haru goes to bed without any problems, immediately reaching for your vast mountain of plushies to bury herself in. 
It’s you that’s left awake to mull, wallowing in your own self-pity as you think about how many crossroads your life has come down to. After reaching multiple dead ends over the years, you’re hopeful that the road you’re on now is the longest yet. After all, you, Haru and Jungkook have been the constant for so long. 
You play a random sitcom on your television, the soft buzz far too low for any neighbors to hear, but you’ve watched this show one too many times to know what’s going on. You sigh when you see the best friend finally kiss the other best friend after years of pining and chasing around each other, finally meeting in their loft elevator. 
Before you know it, you’re crying, worried about Jungkook. It’s already 11PM and he’s made no indication that he’s okay or how things are going. You hopelessly throw your phone between the couch cushions, knowing it will only break you more waiting for him. 
Soft, sock-clad feet pad into your living room, and you wipe your eyes roughly when you notice Haru is toddling over. She rubs her own eyes, trying to will the sleep away as she crawls on top of you. 
“Wha’ wrong,” Haru asks with a frown, handing you the Eeyore plush you purchased for her this week. She’s been attached to it every night since, “hug, makes you feel better.” 
You shake your head, kissing both Haru and Eeyore’s forehead, “Nothing, just silly stuff.” 
“Do you miss daddy?” 
You huff, smiling helplessly at the beautiful little girl. She’s so intuitive. “You’re so smart, Haru. I miss him a little bit, I guess. Daddy says he’ll meet up with us soon though, so don’t you worry.” 
The little girl doesn’t immediately reply, awkwardly trying to squeeze herself between you and the blanket that wraps loosely around your arms.  
“Why,” Haru asks, “why can’t you be my mommy?” 
She’s shy when she says it, black bangs falling over her brows as she looks up at you through her lashes. Fiddling with the ear of her depressed plush donkey, she waits patiently for her answer. 
It’s then you sob harder, unable to keep it together for the sake of Haru. 
“Oh bubby,” you open your blanket further so that Haru can burrow herself between the warmth of your body and the sherpa, “what matters is that we’re in each other’s lives. I would love to be your mother but, things are complicated.” 
It’s probably the shittiest excuse to tell a little kid that the reason things are is simply because they’re complicated. Yet, it’s the only thing you can think of. 
“What’s so comp-i-cated,” Haru mutters into your shoulder, piecing the syllables together, “daddy loves you, I love you. We love each other, that’s good enough? Mhm?”
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hueseok · 2 days ago
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MORNING VIEW.
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the one where you wake up and see your husband, namjoon, working outside at the garden with nothing but a pair of very tight gym shorts.
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━ husband!namjoon x reader ━ 1k words. ━ nc-17 ━ fluff, established relationship au ━ warning/s: swearing, suggestive themes, (respectfully) objectifying mr kim namjoon akshsjdhsj
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You almost choked on your drink when you turned to the glass doors leading to the garden and saw your husband right there, tending to his plants. It wasn’t a strange sight really—you reckon the whole damn neighborhood was well aware that Namjoon was the one who had the green thumb between the both of you when you guys first moved in—but given how he was wearing nothing but seriously tight gym shorts that were already hiking up to his thigh because of his large movements, you were pretty sure that what he was doing now almost made not only the glass of water you were sipping spill out of your mouth, but also your eyeballs to nearly pop out of its sockets in shock.
How the hell did he think that parading at the backyard shirtless and unintentionally flexing his muscles like that as he sprayed the expanse of your garden with the water hose he was holding was fucking okay? He looked like what the Romans back then might have envisioned Hercules in all his living glory. His shoulders were so broad, his chest was so prominent, and damn, his whole physique was just so… big. It was driving you insane in such an early hour.
“Joon,” you croaked, pushing the sliding glass door open to gain his attention, your face reddening at the way your voice slightly cracked, “hey, what are you… what are you—uh, I mean—have you, have you had, um, breakfast yet?”
He turned to you. When he did, it looked like the sun thought it was a great opportunity to direct its light on his perspiring upper body. “Hi,” he smiled and your heart thumped harder, like he was just some teenage boy you had a crush on and not the man you were married to for over a year now, “no, I haven’t, babe. I was actually waiting for you to wake up since I’m hoping we can eat out and have some sort of brunch instead? What do you think?” He was back facing the shrubs by the time he was done speaking.
“Eat out?”
“Yeah,” he said. “After I’m done with this, I’m gonna hop in the shower and we can go.”
“Can I join?”
Namjoon twisted the part of the hose that allowed him to lessen the water flowing out of it, his lips twitching as he glanced at you. “In the shower with me?”
“Yep.” You were fighting off a grin to not look too eager. “To, you know, conserve, uh, um, water.”
“Conserve water, huh?”
“Absolutely.”
“Is that the best you got?”
You squinted at him, playfully glaring at how he was clearly teasing before you decided to snap back. “Well, is that the shortest and tightest shorts you have, babe?”
He furrowed his eyebrows and looked down to what he was wearing—which as we all want to reiterate, was nothing but his gym shorts. “Is this…” he started to laugh, gesturing to his figure, “is this turning you on?”
One thing that made Namjoon hotter than he was was the fact that he was so fucking clueless about it sometimes.
“You’re practically naked!”
“I’m sweating and I look haggard! I took off my shirt earlier because it’s so hot out here, not because I was hoping to seduce you with my half-naked body.” He snickered.
“You know, I would have believed that if I didn’t know that you’re actually proud of how tone your body is these days.”
“I mean, I can’t lie—it kinda really is looking great these days, right?”
You rolled your eyes, Namjoon laughing and fully turning off the hose to gather it neatly as he returned it to its proper place. Soon enough, you were watching him approach you, first getting the shirt he discarded earlier like he mentioned on the back of one of the chairs you had in your backyard, and then at long last arriving in front of you, smirking with his dimples on display, causing your heart to once again swoon for the man you have vowed to have and to hold.
You couldn’t help it as you allowed your gaze to flicker down to his pecs, pressing your mouth together to perhaps prevent yourself from visibly drooling.
“My eyes are up here, honey,” he husked, his tone playful still while he tilted your chin upwards, stealing one innocent peck on your lips.
You frowned. “I hate how sexy you are sometimes, honestly.”
“You flatter me too much.”
“It’s true.”
“Fine, okay, let’s say I am.” He gently pushed you backwards inside your home with both palms on your waist, closing the sliding doors. “But that’s only because my wife is already fucking sexy as she is, so, it’s only decent of me to want to live up to that and be the equally hot spouse.”
“Can’t you just take my compliments for once and not make it about me?”
“No.” Namjoon kissed you again, this time deeper and longer, your knees feeling weak and like jelly that you grabbed onto his biceps immediately as some kind of extra measure in case you do embarrassingly fall. “I’m always going to make it about you, baby.”
“Joon...” You swallowed hard, breaking from the kiss for a moment to stare at him.
“Yeah?”
“Do you want to have breakfast in bed instead?”
He chuckled at the obvious implication of your words and so did you, Namjoon kissing your mouth again in fondness. “Sure. Maybe after we finish showering though. Wouldn’t want to ruin the sheets with my sweat from watering the plants.”
“That’s fine. We can just change it later. I think it’ll be better to just shower afterwards.”
“Wow, looks like to me you already have everything planned out inside your head.”
“You would have too if you’re seeing the full course meal I’m looking at right now.”
“Oh, shut up.” Namjoon groaned and laughed at the same time, capturing your mouth once more as he led you two to your shared bedroom, his footsteps clumsy and the manner in which he was guiding you seemingly wobbly but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, only focused in arriving at your destination to finally have what you’ve been craving since looking out of your glass doors and catching sight of your morning view.
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note. i feel like the vibe and theme i had for this drabble is the same for one of my timestamps drabble,, it's just that this one is more mature? HSJDHJEDJ ANYWAYS IM SUPPOSED TO NOT BE WRITING FOR BTS RN BC OF MY EXAMS BUT I JUST NEEDED TO SQUEEZE THIS ONE REAL QUICK TOO OKAY :<
THANK YOU FOR READING & FEEDBACK IS ALWAYS APPRECIATED ! ♡(ˆ‿ˆԅ)
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btsarmy9593 · 2 days ago
Anyone else wondering what Yoongi and his Birthday Girl are up to this weekend? Just me? Ok. 🤣
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Birthday Girl Drabble - Lazy Sunday - (September 26, 2021)
rating: PG
word count: 414
Genre: fluff
a/n: unedited and horribly self-indulgent fic, don't read until you've read part 13
series list
---
It’s still morning on this Sunday, halfway between breakfast and lunch when he finally gets up out of bed and stumbles to where you’re sitting. You’re on your third cup of tea, marking up a book recommended to you by your best friend.
You look over at him and smile.
The rumpled hair, glasses, black on black pajamas is one of your favorite Yoongi looks.
“Americano?” you ask, keeping your voice soft.
He grunts and heads to the kitchen. You chuckle and go back to your book. You’d make the americano for him, but he’s grumpy when you try and serve him when he’s already up.
It’s several minutes later that he comes back, steaming mug in hand and sits next to you. Despite the length of the couch, he squeezes in next to you like space is needed for some imaginary guests. He doesn’t say anything as he sips his coffee, looking over your shoulder as though he cares what you’re reading.
He doesn’t but he’s cute.
You turn your head once you find a stopping place in the text. “Morning.”
He kisses you, reaching out to set his mug on your coffee table. He pushes your book out of your hands, not unlike a petulant child. You giggle against his lips.
“Why yes, Yoongi, you may kiss me and distract me from my work.”
He grunts again, cupping your face in his hands and drawing back to look at you. You’re not sure how much he sees as his glasses are slightly fogged from your mingling breaths. You accommodate him, returning his kisses as you ease toward him and letting him fall back on the sofa with you on top.
“Hi.” you say when you pull back for a mini-break.
He blinks several times. “Hi.”
You shiver. His morning, sleepy voice always gives you tingles. You have no idea if he knows that yet and you’re not sure he needs more ammunition on how well he can unravel you.
You push his hair out of his eyes and he smiles at you.
“I can make you breakfast?”
He shakes his head, his arms wrapped around you. You rest your chin on his chest, your own eyes fluttering shut. He’s so warm and it’s definitely autumn outside, the chill evident even inside your house.
You’re drifting off to sleep, especially as he strokes your hair with one hand. You figure a mid-morning nap with your partner is a well-spent Sunday.
“Love you, jagiya.”
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fluffyydumplings · a day ago
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The Kingdom of Daydreams Witch One Will Win? - Part 2
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Summary: The three are to work together as a team. They’ve figured that out through the form of a mind-penetrating witch. What lies ahead of them on the other hand, that's a mystery yet to be solved.
Word count: 817
Pairings: writer!reader x witch!yoongi x writer!jimin / alien!jungkook x vampire!hoseok x werewolf!taehyung
Genre: fluff / crack!au / angst / fantasy!au / sci-fi!au
Warning: profanity / mentions of biting
A/N: There isn’t much sci-fi for now, aside from Jungkook’s existence and the machine. But... there will be more in the future. I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as you did the last.
Previous
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Series Masterlist
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‘There is a well hidden somewhere in the deep forests of Epistemophilia, the forgotten city of this very kingdom. The vessel meant for water surrounded by fifty dozen dandelions that flutter away, the daydreams of people different and alike collected for energy.’
‘The same energy that runs the magic that provides for homes, libraries and so on.’
‘Epistemophilia, the perpetual and excessive desire to obtain knowledge. Therefore whenever you are to come across a wooden sign decorated with a stack of books, do keep in mind my dearest traveller. It isn’t a library that you have approached, it is no other than the city of Epistemophilia. There you will meet your first obstacle. The temple of dreams.’
‘I’m Kim Taehyung.. Are you here for the machine as well?’ emotions he doesn't seem to possess.
‘Yes.. I’m Jeon Jungkook. And this fellow over here is Jung Hoseok. We have met along the way.’
‘What do you think the temple of dreams could possibly be like?’
‘I don’t know.. What is anything possibly like?’ Hoseok speaks his opinion.
‘Something related to dreams,’ Jungkook adds.
‘That’s too obvious, kiddo..’ Taehyung snickers.
‘What do you want me to say then? That it’s about a bunch of chickens bullfighting as we bet which one will win through the form of drinking a weird-ass potion that lets us into the birds’ minds.’
‘How does drinking the potion help though?’
‘We get to judge which one is more violent in the head. And by that, we bet on who we think will take the other out.
‘Kiddo.. You’ve got strange thoughts,’ Taehyung almost starts cackling at Jungkook’s logic.
‘How do you know I’m younger than you are?’
‘I’m a werewolf,’ his rather sharp fangs show.
‘Bite me then.’
‘Be careful with what you say. I might actually bite you.’
‘I’m an alien..’
‘Can you turn green?’ that is the first query that falls out of his lips.
‘No.. I can read trees though..’
At the perplexed expression that slaps at the chestnut-haired man. He...
‘I’ll show you one day,’ pride reaches the tip of his eyes.
‘But.. Anyways.. How does you being a werewolf and me being an alien do anything with our age?’
‘I’m 300 years old... You?’
‘I’m 1000 years old.. You were saying, kiddo?’ contempt lurks at both of them.
‘Guys.. Stop fighting!! Goodness gracious,’ Hoseok tries to play peacemaker, only to be interrupted by a clearing of throat.
‘Well.. Hello again. Please do not fight. You are to work together in the obstacles that come ahead of you. As of now, you are a team.‘
‘If any one of you comes to harm or perhaps even come to be of no more, the quest will be over. As I have said before, you are a team. With even one gone, the team is disenabled.  Do you understand?’
‘Yes..’ the same words scrape their tongues.
Suddenly, a lightning bolt of gold lands onto the land covered in green.
‘The temple of dreams welcomes you.’
A woman draped in silk and ribbons, and a wand in her hand greets them.
‘Yoongi... Do I really have to do this?! What type of fucking clothes are these?.. I swear.. This shit is so tight. I’m killing you after this!’ you babble in your head.
‘Why can’t I wear what I usually do?’
‘What am I.. Dressing to impress?’
‘As a guardian, I can sue you!’
‘You look good though,’ she comments back.
‘Get out of my head! I have to speak, you hooligan!’
‘Ahem.. Ahem. I am the keeper of this very temple. Who is it that has sent you here?’ your goody two shoes and polite ass bitch facade is on.
‘Keeper, the identity of the person behind it all is unknown. But.. what we do know is that they are the developer of a certain machine,’ Hoseok informs you.
‘Ahh! Your main destination is Violet Castle isn’t it?’ you fake oblivion.
‘Yes! That one,’ an overexcited Kook answers.
‘Follow me,’ you take a few steps forward, your muscle memory guiding you and them who follows behind.
‘A library?’ they all let out softly
‘A millennium ago. A dragon hybrid by the name of Sonder had carried boulders on her back, flying over to a land barren of trees in hope of starting a new life. That is when she had built this temple right here. And do not be fooled, it is no longer a temple. Most people on our land are of no religion. They are free people, unrestricted to the beliefs of the guardians.’
‘Sonder.. The realisation that everyone else has a life just like you do. Like the main character of a novel realising they aren‘t the only one with a personality, or friends and family.’
‘I thought I needed to tell you that.’
‘Oh.. One more thing,’ they all focus their attention on you.
‘I am that Dragon.’
You Have Unlocked Min Yoongi’s Moodboard.. She says hi! -,-
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aredheadedmess · 2 days ago
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Pied Piper || JJK [3]
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Summary: Y/N Y/L/N, an investigative journalist for the Daily Bullet, usually doesn’t see much out of the ordinary; A missing person’s case gone cold, an old case reopened and solved with updated technology, the thrilling excitement when another puzzle of one of the biggest serial killers is cracked. But when an old file resurfaces, she brings back a past that should have been burned with the file a long time ago.
Pairings: Jeon Jungkook x Reader
Word Count: 2.3k
Chapter Warnings: A few swears, mention of broken wood and glass, the host still being a butt, a super creepy forest, please let me know if I missed anything!
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Mystery/Thriller, Paranormal, Strangers to Friends
Chapter Rating: Pg-13
A/N: Sorry this is late! I was hoping that I would get this out on time, but the past two weeks have been kinda crazy. BUT it’s here now so I hope y’all enjoy! This is kind of borderline a filler chapter, but it still has some... interesting things...
Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist
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My research, before I decided to take it upon myself and actually visit the town, was futile. Everything that I had in the file all led to dead ends. My time spent in the company’s evidence locker only left me believing that there was no such place as Blackgate. Even Yoongi had said that it was a legend.
With what little information I had on the town, I decided to pack up a few bags and look for it myself. My friends thought I was crazy, looking for a town that probably didn’t exist any more, but I was stubborn. I knew that I could find something, anything, as long as I looked hard enough. Old map in hand, and only the general direction people had noted it was located, I took off first thing in the morning on an oddly cold day in late August.
I should have known then and there that what I was going to get into could have been much more dangerous. With my attempts at using technology to find the place constantly failing, and the way the woman—who stopped to see if I was alright when I decided to pull over and look at the physical map I keep in my car—looked at me as if she had seen a ghost, I should have turned around. Given up on the case. But as I have stated before; I’m stubborn. There was no way that I was going to give up after a few minor inconveniences. So I took the woman’s hesitant directions and found myself stumbling upon the town only a couple hours away from the Big City.
31 August, 20XX
“That’s not… Oh come on!”
You tear the crinkled page from the typewriter’s hold. Wadding it up, you toss it to the ground with the rest of the discarded paper. Maybe you should have asked for a pen instead. It would have taken you less time to scribble out mistakes than trying to deal with the sticky keys of the typewriter.
“This is going nowhere,” you sigh.
You lean back in the chair and throw your hands up to rub at your face. It’s only been three days, and every plan you had for your investigation is thrown out the window. With none of your devices working, how are you supposed to close these cases? There’s only so much you can do without being able to look up more information on the town on the internet. And with the bipolar weather the town is having, you don’t have much of a choice but to stay inside the Bed and Breakfast for the majority of the time.
The clock on the desk ticks away as you sit there, unmoving. It fills the silent room with the monotonous noise. It’s just after 8pm, and you still have nothing to show for your research. Many of the pages of the books you brought with you are stuck together as they sit on the desk beside the typewriter. After all of both your and the man’s effort to save the books, they still weren’t able to dry completely.
Thud.
The door to the room shakes in its frame. Your head snaps to the direction of the sound, brows furrowing as you begin to hear a muffled string of curses. What is he doing? For the last two nights, once dinner is cleaned up, the host is quietly off to do his own thing. You don’t hear a word from him again until the next morning when you’re somewhat rudely awakened for breakfast. Though you haven’t stayed here long, it’s odd to hear him move around at this time of night. The desk chair squeaks slightly as you lean forward to lift yourself off the seat. You’re surprised it’s still standing with how old and fragile it looks.
Swinging the door open, you’re met with the man picking up the last piece of a broken picture frame from the floor beside your door. He doesn’t spare you a glance as he moves to toss the splintered wood and glass into the trash bin in the kitchen. He returns back into the hallway, walking towards the front door as if he is running late to something. You follow, watching as he reaches for the closet door knob, twisting it open, and reaching inside for a jacket.
“Where are you going?”
“Out.”
He doesn’t spare you a glance as he throws his jacket over his shoulders. Once the fabric is situated on his body, he turns to open the front door.
“But I thought-”
“Lock the door after I leave.”
The door slams shut before you have a chance to catch it. Your hand reaches out to touch the lock, but you don’t make any effort to twist it. Where is he going? Especially at this time of night? You keep your hand hovering over the lock. Should you follow after him? Though, maybe you shouldn’t pry into his private life. You wouldn’t want him to do that to you. But with how late it’s getting---and with his strict rule of an 8:30 curfew---you can’t help but grow more curious as to where he’s off to. You drop your hand, running back into your room to grab your jacket. Who knows what the weather will decide to do tonight.
The sun has already set, leaving the town in utter darkness. Only a small handful of houses have their porch lights turned on. The dark sky makes it much easier for you to hide in the shadows as you follow the host into the middle of town. Though, it doesn’t make your surroundings any more inviting. Your eyes catch the sight of the playground again. If you look carefully enough, you swear you can see a small figure sitting at the top of the tallest slide. I’m seeing things. It’s just my imagination, you hope.
Shaking your head to rid your mind of the creeping thoughts, you return your gaze to focus on the man ahead of you. You’re lucky to have looked back at him as he stops to open the door to a shop a little farther. As quietly as possible, you run to catch up to shop before the door can fully close, letting you sneak inside before he can notice your presence. You keep yourself low, throwing yourself behind the first shelf you can see. You can’t see much except for the view of his backside approaching the front counter as another figure steps out from a back room.
“Jungkook! It’s nice to see your face again!”
A bright older woman greets the host as he enters the shop. You can hear him muttering under his breath, but it isn’t loud enough for you to catch what he says. He quickly steps closer towards the counter, leaning in a little closer to the woman.
“Keep it down,” he whispers harshly, his head twisting towards the entrance before focusing back on her. “You know I don’t like using my name around here anymore.”
“Oh, right. After what happened to-”
She stops. Clearing her throat, she shifts under his strong gaze. Letting a soft smile fall onto her lips, she tilts her head in curiosity.
“Sorry. What brings you here? I thought you weren’t due for more until next month?”
“Something unexpected happened,” he, Jungkook, hesitantly tells the woman.
“Well, no matter. Go ahead and get what you need.”
The shopkeeper waves him away, letting him free to find what he came for. You barely manage to pull yourself back behind the shelf when he turns to amble into the rest of the shop. You can hear his footsteps as he walks to an area on the opposite side of the room. As carefully as possible, you make your way to the other end of the shelf in hopes that you can spot what Jungkook is looking for. Though you don’t anticipate your movements entirely as the sole of your shoe comes in rough contact with the hardwood floor, scuffing the ground loudly. You quickly stop, closing your eyes and pressing your lips together.
“Shit.”
It’s silent for a moment, seemingly more than it was only a few seconds before. You wait, hoping that neither one of the other people in the building heard you. That hope is cut short when someone clears their throat behind you. You slowly turn around, meeting eyes with the host. 
“Outside.”
Jungkook doesn’t wait for you to follow him as he steps out of the shop. Like a child getting caught stealing a cookie from the cookie jar, you hang your head low to keep yourself from making eye contact with the shopkeeper. You push the door closed behind you once you make it outside.
“I thought I told you to stay.”
Skipping the warnings, he spits poison at you. It takes you aback at the sudden interrogation. Your eyebrows press close, a frown developing across your face. No longer feeling like a child being scolded by their parents, you step towards him, crossing your arms in front of your chest.
“And who are you to tell me what to do?”
“Do you want to die?” he retorts.
You tilt your head in confusion.
“What does that even have to do with anything?”
He doesn’t answer you. Instead, his eyes shift from their gaze on you to somewhere off to the side. His face is still stern, but the way his fingers begin to twitch at his sides gives his uneasiness away.
“There’s something you’re not telling me.” You poke at the silent air between the two of you. “Nothing’s adding up.”
Jungkook scoffs.
“There’s no way I’m going to talk to an immature reporter like you. Go back to your research if you’re so interested.”
He walks around you to enter the shop again. You turn to face him, stepping forward to do the same. He must have seen your reflection in the glass on the door as he whips back around before he can get a grip on the handle.
“Stop following me.”
“Why should I?” you challenge. “I’m doing what I’m supposed to be doing aren’t I? I’m following you to get more information. Research.”
“You won’t get anything from me. Go back. And don’t look back.”
Without another word, he turns back to the door, closing it behind him. You can hear the clack of the lock as you reach for the handle yourself. You click your tongue.
“Asshole.”
Sighing, you turn back to face the direction you came in. This Jungkook guy is confusing.
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“The hell?”
You whip your head around every which way. How did you get to the forest? Weren’t you headed towards the Bed and Breakfast? Just a few minutes ago, you left the shop to trudge back to the house. So how is it that you somehow turned yourself around and ended up on the other side of town? There isn’t much you remember. You vaguely recall passing by the creepy park again, but everything after that is a blur. 
Groaning, you bring your gaze back to the tree line a couple feet ahead of you. If he didn’t kill you at the shop, Jungkook will definitely kill you now for not taking his warnings to heart. Though, you’re not sure why you are following what he’s told you. You’re a grown adult. You shouldn’t let him walk all over you. Yet, maybe you can see where he’s coming from. Seeing the forest at night is much worse than in the daylight. And even during the day, you have yet to step close to the area, the fear of the worst possible outcomes bubbling up in your throat from the mere sight of it.
The longer you stare into the forest, the more you begin to see shapes dancing through the trees. You can’t look away. The shapes entice you, pulling at you, making you want to step closer to see what the commotion is about. You have to will yourself to stay put as your legs ache with the need to venture between the trees. Your eyes follow as the shapes become smaller, dancing further into the forest. If you listen close enough, you swear you can make out the sound of laughter echoing from inside. You blink. Suddenly the ache in your legs is gone. You blink again. The shapes are nowhere to be seen. Were they a figment of my imagination? They had to have been, you realize. It has to be the effects of your terrible sleep the past few nights along with the fact that the cloud-covered moon is high in the sky at this point. The darkness of the night only brings trouble for your eyesight.
Taking a step back, you decide it’s time to head back. Surely the host is back at the Bed and Breakfast already, waiting for you like a parent trying to catch their child sneaking back into the house. You turn around once you deem yourself a safe distance away from the tree line. The town in front of you is just as dark and unsettling as the forest. Without the nightlife that you see in the big city, the town looks completely deserted. Almost as if there is no one occupying the houses in the surrounding area.
You don’t know what entices you, but you twist your head to look back at the shrinking forest as you walk. Eyes wide, you falter in your stride. A figure in the shape of a human stands at the edge of the tree line. Who is that? You bring your hands up to your face, rubbing at your eyes. Whoever was there is gone now, leaving you to believe that it’s just the dim moonlight tricking your brain. You rub at your eyes once more, blinking a few times, before hesitantly turning back to return to the Bed and Breakfast.
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venusiangguk · a month ago
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the art of doubting | jjk (m)
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>>pairing: jungkook x reader / dilf!jk x grocery store clerk!oc
>>genre: friends with benefits, smut, a lil bit of fluff, angst
>>word count: 17k -.-
>>warnings: dom jk, sub oc, age gap, dilf jk stuff: asking for permission, saying thank you, sexual tension, gross domestic flirting 🙄, push up kisses, orgasms, oc getting overwhelmed bc jock is too gewd <3, oral (m), rimming !!, mirror sex, one (1) spank, jreampie <3, tummy bulging (kinda? he presses on her tum to feel it?), praise, dirty talk, encouragement, showering together, kisses 😚, ex wife has arrived, mentions of divorce, a lil bit of sad talk about nari :(, nari is two now!!, misunderstandings, arguments, jk lowkey got some issues he needs to work thru lol, he thinks in extremes, oc is in love </3, a very drastic 180 occurs
>>notes: ex wife arrives and literally makes everything explode lmao
this is part of my dilf jk series that can be found on my masterlist
>>summary: seeds of doubt are planted and unfortunately they grow faster than love. things with jk fall apart.
Soft grunting groans filter through the air as you slowly make your way down the stairs to the lower floor. Not really a basement, more of an indoor workout cave.
Jeongguk’s shirtless on the bench, pulling weighted arms down on the machine, the muscles in his back rippling and straining with every pull down. He sees you in the mirror as soon as you walk in, his eyes lighting up and a small winded laugh puffs from his chest.
“Hey— hang on… almost— done…”
You shift on your feet a little, watching him through the reflection. The sight you see is a little too obscene to just be a work out, you feel like. He’s not sweaty yet, probably just started, but his face is a little red from the excretion, and his lats are on display as he does the repetitive workout over and over with clenched teeth and breathy grunts until his body gives out. He catches his breath for a moment, shakes his arms out.
“You shouldn’t leave your door unlocked,” you say, tiptoeing over to him and stepping over the plastic baby weight on the mat. “Also why do you do so many at once… looks miserable.”
Jeongguk laughs softly, looks up at you with his doe-eyes when you’re close enough to rest a hand on his shoulder. He’s warm to the touch.
“I usually don’t but I’m the only one here, and I knew it was you coming. Also my phone is charging upstairs so if you texted when you got here like normally, I would not have known.” he explains. “I tend to focus more on longer sets with lighter weights, than shorter sets with heavier weights because it helps keep muscles lean… I’m not trying to bulk up right now.”
You tell him that that makes sense even though you really have no clue. Just know that whatever he does to stay fit works. “Nari at her mom’s?” you ask.
He nods, standing up to go over to the pull up bar on the side of the machine. Wiping his hands on the tiny workout shorts he’s wearing, he jumps a little, and then wiggles his fingers on the bar to get a good grip. “All yours till Friday,” he says, cutely.
Rolling your eyes playfully, you correct him. “Till tomorrow afternoon. I have work… might get a raise soon.”
You wander around a little as Jeongguk goes on about how you should already be getting paid more considering you have a college degree, but you tune him out, knowing he’s trying to be on your side and make you feel better. A marketing degree won't get you far in a grocery aisle, and you both know that, but it’s sweet of him to try.
Instead, you opt to take in your surroundings. You’ve been all around his house of course, but you’ve not spent much time in the workout dungeon.
It’s fully equipped, and fully mirrored, with the flooring being that of wrestling mats to cushion dropped weights or baby stumbles.
On one side of the room there’s an elliptical, a treadmill, a rowing machine, a bench press, basically one of everything that you would normally see in a gym. But on the other side, blocked off by a baby safety gate, is a mini little workout zone filled with mini weights, those foam blocks that you normally find in a child’s gymnastics zone, and a little dance bar along the mirrored wall.
You smile, thinking about Nari holding onto the bar and doing that funny little squatting move of hers. “Are you going to put her in dance?”
He looks at you through the mirror, no longer doing pull ups, but just watching it seems. Seated on one of the benches with a water bottle in his hand, resting between his spread legs. “Ballet I think,” he says, “Me and her mom were talking about it. She thinks it’ll be good for Nari’s coordination…” He gives you a humorously exasperated look, “I just think she’ll look cute in a tutu. Though I suppose coordination would be helpful… she’s a bit clumsy.”
“She is only 2,” you point out, walking over to his side of the room again. “Was the party fun?”
It was on Saturday, just a few days ago. Jeongguk said it was fairy themed much like most of the baby’s things. You saw the pictures that he sent you, Nari adorned in a pair of tiny pink wings, her cake in the shape of a mushroom. The kids all got tiny bottles of ‘pixie dust’ to play with, shimmery bubbles floating through the air.
There was a woman in one of the pictures, blowing a bubble into Nari’s delighted face, her own smile matching that of the baby. She obviously wasn’t the focus of the photo, and you doubt that Jeongguk even realized when he sent it. But you already knew who the woman was anyway. The pictures around Jeongguk’s house were enough to tell you, even if he never explicitly stated it. And you know it makes sense and that it’s normal for her to be there, with Jeongguk at their daughter's birthday, but something settled into the pit of your belly when you looked at that picture. You haven’t been able to shake it yet.
Jeongguk’s voice brings you back. “Yeah it was fun, you got the pictures right?” He seems excited. You laugh a little, reminding that yes, you did see. You responded to them after all. He grins sheepishly as he goes to another machine, “Don’t be sassy, or I’ll eat the piece of cake we saved you.”
His sentence warms your heart. The fact that he was thinking about you, keeping you in mind. Reminds you of the bittersweet message you received from him on Saturday while he was at the party.
Wish you could have come
It took some effort, and you’ve done your best to not think about the fact that you could have, if he had asked you to. Saturday was your day off.
“What flavor is it?”
“Funfetti, obviously.” Jeongguk rolls his eyes, grunts quietly as he does another rep.
“Obviously,” you mime, with a small chuckle.
Conversation flows smoothly, just like always, everything seamless between you both. While most people wouldn’t probably get annoyed at someone hovering, Jeongguk seems happy to be near you, glad for the company. You sit beside him as he gets to the ground for some push ups.
He gets about three in before you’re laying flat on your back, boredom making a thought pop into your head.
“Do them over me.”
Jeongguk falters mid-way up, glancing at you with a suspicious look. “Why?”
“I wanna help,” you reason.
“Not sure being on top of you will be helpful,” he murmurs, but appeases you nonetheless, side walking on his hands and the balls of his feet until he’s over you.
You both give each other closed lip smiles as you try not to laugh. Jeongguk lowers himself, and you sneakily place a sweet kiss on his cheek.
“I knew you didn’t want to be helpful,” he says, his voice laced with faux annoyance. He does another one and receives another kiss. “You want to be distracting.”
“I’m not being distracting, I’m providing incentive.”
“I can’t even go all the way down, your tits are in the way.”
“You are so ungrateful.”
He smiles with his eyes as he goes down again, his nose brushing yours as he nuzzles into your cheek briefly. “And how are you providing incentive?”
You hum at the feel of his warm breath on your ear. “The longer you hold your plank, the longer you get to kiss me.”
“Who says I wanna kiss you?” he teases, voice soft as a feather as he does another push up.
“You always want to kiss me,” you tell him, just as quiet, tension radiating off of you as you readjust yourself, your legs opening so that the next time he drops down, he’s not just over you, but between your thighs as well. “And you haven’t yet…” you remind him as you drag your acrylics over his bare back, smiling at the way he shudders and at the way his arms buckle.
He grins, looking at you like you’re unbelievable, yet everything he wants right now. “Between you and Nari, I can never get anything done.”
You hum, “I just think you need to reevaluate your priorities, maybe.”
“And what do you think my priorities should be, __?” he whispers, eyes searching your face, lingering on your lips, a fond look coloring his features.
“Well, right now,” you start, looping your arms around his neck, “I think you should really focus on that plank, and on that kiss you’re dying to give me.”
Your teeth click before your lips lock because of how much you both are smiling.
But once lips lock, it doesn’t take much for Jeongguk to collapse onto you. Doesn’t even try to hold the plank, instead just melding his body to yours, the inside of your legs clamping around his waist. He goes from having his hands flat on the mat to bracing himself on his forearms, his knees hitting the mat between your legs. You use some of your weight to bring him closer, the slowly swelling front of his work out shorts pressing into the crotch of your leggings.
You work your hips, rolling them slowly up into him, in time with the slow, molten kisses he licks into your mouth.
Jeongguk’s always easy for you, but today he seems to be fighting himself, playfully fighting how bad he wants you. It’s the principle of the thing. To prove a point. The point being that you’re distracting, his weakness. His hips rolling into yours, only to pull back. He lips pressing hard against yours, only to pull back. Just for him to do it over again, just for him to give in like you both know he wants to and will. It's after a particularly hard rut against you that he peels his lips from yours, panting softly, how worked up he is so apparent in the way he can’t stop his hips.
“You’re going to kill me,” he whispers, his nose brushing against your cheek before he sinks his teeth into the apple of it like he just can’t help it, can’t get enough of you.
Your manicured hands cup his cheeks, as you nod and guide him back into a wet kiss. “Want you in my mouth,” you moan against his lips.
Jeongguk pulls back with a light blush on his cheeks. “Are you sure? I was just working out–”
A kiss cuts him off as you slowly start to sit up, him going with you. “Barely broke a sweat, and I don’t care,” you tell him, hands gripping at the elastic of his waistband, “just want you.”
Jeongguk laughs softly, grabs your eager hands, maneuvering to his feet and pulling you with him. It’s then that he strips you of your shirt, your bra. His hands come to cup your bare tits, rolling them in his palms as he brings his lips back to you, all while he toes off his shoes, as well as his socks with a little difficulty and stumbling, but not without sweet laughter filtering in through the kisses.
He makes his way down as he pushes your pants down, his lips latching to a nipple, making you mewl under the light flicks and the soft sucks, hands coming to his hair to keep your balance as you rid yourself from the stretchy material. His hair gets pulled when you’re free, and he’s biting his lip at the tugging when he blinks his eyes open to look at you again.
“Sit on the bench,” you tell him, hand slipping from his locks, and down to his flushed chest. You press lightly, backing him up to the benchpress machine that’s not too far behind him.
The bench is propped up, a reclined sitting position under the secured bar above, resembling more of a chair than the typical flat board of most bench presses.
He gingerly sits down, keeps his eyes on you the whole time, watching as you lower yourself to your knees, settling between his open ones. His cock is hard and pink, up and laying flat on his lower tummy. It pulses when you place your hand on his thighs, long nails running down.
You both smile a little because its funny in a stupid way, but your pussy pulses too, getting slick between you legs at the way Jeongguk responds to you. How eager he is for you, how the mere feel of your hands on his thighs is enough to make him throb in anticipation of what else is going to come, of how good you’re going to make him feel.
“Wanna make you feel good,” you say quietly. Your gaze flicking between his face and the flushed, shiny head of his cock in your hand.
He bites his lip when you slowly start to work your hand on him, his foreskin sliding over the wet tip of his cock, and when you rub the pad of your thumb on the under part of the head, you watch as his head tilts back, his eyes slipping shut, and his mouth exhaling a soft sigh. You squeeze your thighs together at the sight. Jeongguk is so responsive, pliant as he settles into the bench, hot and heavy in your hand.
“Put your mouth on it,” Jeongguk requests, eyes lazily shut.
When you oblige, Jeongguk sucks in a sharp breath, his back arching a little off of the bench behind him, his hips pulling back like the feel of your lips suckling on him is too much, too good.
You pull off with a little pop, holding his cock close smiling against his length. “Why are you trying to get away from me?”
Jeongguk gives you a crooked grin, looking down his nose at you with hazy eyes. “Keep going,” he says softly.
Humming against his length you begin to place heavy, wet kisses down his cock all the way to his balls. The kind where your tongue licks him before your lips suction softly. Then you lick all the way back up with the flat of your tongue, your lips wrapping around him, your head bobbing a few shallow times. Jeongguk keeps breathing those sweet, soft moans. So relaxed and relishing in the way you suck him off. He’s not pulling away anymore, instead trying to keep from bucking into your mouth, you can tell by the way his lower belly tenses.
When you go down a little farther, sucking his balls into your mouth, you moan at the way he whines, at the way his legs subconsciously open wider as you alternate between lapping at him, and teasing him with light circles from the tip of your tongue. He breathes praise, telling you how good it feels. It makes you want to make him feel even better.
His legs spreading wide for you gives you the idea to trail a little farther down, stray off the path of your usual blowjobs. You start with your fingers, something he’s used to and loves. Massaging that spot behind his balls with deliberate little pets, you moan softly when he pulls his legs back just slightly, barely lifting his feet off the ground so you can touch him better.
His brows are pinched, and his mouth is open in a silent moan, his expression one of pleasure and arousal as he brings his hand down to his cock. He slowly tugs at himself, watching as you bring your mouth back to his balls. He’s nodding, eager and encouraging, his hand speeding up.
“You’re–,” he moans, his head rolling back along with his eyes, “My baby.”
Laughing a little you pull back, focusing on just massaging him. He seems extra responsive today, his praise and sentences jumbled and hardly coherent.
“Keep licking,” he moans.
You hum, going to appease him but right before you suck his balls into your mouth you pause. He notices, brings his eyes to you with a questioning, needy gaze, his hand still working over his cock.
You place a chaste kiss to his balls and then one a little lower. Jeongguk jolts, and questions you with a gaze, but he doesn't stop you.
In all honesty, you don't know what you’re doing, have no clue why you even want to, but the desire to make Jeongguk feel good and curiosity spurs you on. He likes your fingers, maybe he’ll like your mouth there too.
Your eyes hold a question in them as you gently, wordlessly push his legs back some more, more of him on display than you’ve ever seen before. Jeongguk grows a little red, but his hand hasn’t stopped, and he just pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, watching you as you kiss on the backs of his thighs.
He’s tense, like he’s just waiting for you to do it. With your breath hot on his taint, you look at him once more, and he gives the slightest nod, permission to continue. His eyes are heavy and he licks over his red bitten lips, and when you press another one of your chaste kisses against him, his brows furrow and his mouth parts and he cranes forward, like he wants it so bad, is so eager that he can't contain it.
The first lick over him makes him gasp, and he breathes the most salacious, “Yeah–” as his legs get pulled back even more.
You smile at him with your tongue out, giving tentative licks to that spot he loves. Your hands are on his cheeks and you pull back some, looking at him with a grin.
Jeongguk groans, a laugh coloring it as his head falls back to the bench kind of like he’s a little bashful about being so worked up. His free hand pushes through his hair before rubbing over his face, eyes finally meeting yours again. “You’re so hot down there,” he tells you.
You purr, pressing your thumbs into his cheeks opening him up a little more. A quick wet lick is placed over his hole and he breathes out a harsh sigh, craning his neck so he can look at you, his tummy tensed.
“Is this what you want?” you murmur against him, getting a little more confident, the tip of your tongue flicking over the cinched muscle.
“Yeah, fuck…” he whispers.
The hand he has on his cock squeezes at the base for a second before he makes a ring with his thumb and index finger focusing on the tip of his cock with quick little strokes. The hand he doesn’t have busy pulls his thigh back a bit more.
As your tongue works over him, he chants over and over again, tells you how hot you look, how good your mouth feels, how wants you to keep going. It’s when you point your tongue a little, just barely pressing into his rim that his hand goes to the back of your head.
He holds your face to his ass, pushes you into him as he melts into the chair, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths that lilt up at the end.
“Good girl,” Jeongguk moans, his eyes blinking open hazily as he looks down at you again.
Your eyes smiles at him as you continue to work your tongue, little wet noises willing the air as you eat him out. When he removes his hand, you lick from his hole to his balls, repeating the action a few times, making Jeongguk almost tremble.
“Your dirty girl?” you ask him quietly in response to the praise he just gave you, giving him tiny little kitten licks over his hole.
He gives you a lustdrunk smile, licking over his lips. “Yeah, all mine.”
“What do you want?” you kiss into his taint, eyes big as you look up at him.
“Just a little more,” he whispers, his thumb spreading the precum leaking from his tip.
You get a hold of the hand on his pulled back thighs, guide it back to the back of your head once again. “Take it then,” you tell him, “take more from me.”
Jeongguk lets out a shaky breath, biting his lip as he pushes your mouth back to his hole. “Look so hot licking my ass,” he breathes, barely audible over the wet licks you’re giving him. He kinda shakes your head, his brows furrowed and his jaw clenched as he sucks a breath through his teeth. “Oh my god–”
When you point your tongue and press past the little resistance, Jeongguk’s mouth drops open and his brows arch upwards, and his eyes roll a little before he squeezes them shut, pushing and pulling on your head just barely, making your tongue fuck him.
It's kind of abrupt when he pulls you back by the hair, his legs coming down again. It’s abrupt when he kisses you. Deep, his tongue licking into your mouth like he doesn't care that you were just licking into him, making him pant, making his cock leak. It’s abrupt when he breaks the kiss. He’s still close, breathing you in, giving you one last soft little peck before he leans back again, his demeanor expectant.
Both of his hands are on your head, and he’s guiding you down, taking what he wants from you just like you told him to. His cock is so hard, flushed and angry looking as it stands, just waiting for your mouth.
It's a swift and quick motion when he pushes your head down, the tip hitting the back of your throat almost immediately. He whines softly, and rocks his hips up while pulling you down onto him, glucking noises filling the air as he fills your mouth.
His length and girth are a lot to take, your eyes prickling with tears as he holds your head down, but when you hear him whisper, so desperately, “Love when you choke on my cock,” it’s so worth it.
He sounds so unabashedly fucked out, like your mouth is the best thing he’s ever felt, like it's the only thing he ever wants to feel for the rest of his life. He’s being a little rougher with you, a little more crude with his words like he’s losing himself in you, losing his control. It makes you moan around him, wanton and needy.
His hips start to fuck up into you mouth again, his hands holding your head in place, keeping you from pulling away. He knows you wouldn’t have, always so well behaved, almost obedient in the way that you please him. But, even so, he just likes having his hands on you, likes feeling the way you struggle to take him.
“That’s a good girl…” he groans, soft and focused, his hips snapping up again. “You’re such a good girl…”
He holds you down once more, shakes your head by the hair so that his tip rubs against your throat, and then he’s pulling you up, kissing you filthily again, not even giving you time to properly catch your breath.
“Get against the mirror,” he says against your lips.
The heat from your hands makes the glass under your hands fog up, and the heat from Jeongguk behind you makes you flush, the heaviness of his cock rutting against the swell of your ass as he wastes no time getting into position.
At the first feel of his tip rubbing between your folds, grazing over your clit, you gasp and your arms buckle. Your legs spread naturally, but Jeongguk makes a tutting noise, and rests one palm on the outside of your hips, the other between your shoulder blades applying light pressure.
“Keep them together, but bend a little– yeah, perfect,” he breathes.
He takes a step back, looks at your ass pushed out for him, your puffy pussy peeking out from between your legs with your clit tucked inside. You’re drippy, shiny and smooth, your slick leaking out, making it sound lewd and wet when he pushes inside.
Your head hangs at the first thrust, Jeongguk pushing in slow but with a steady motion, and you exhale a soft puff.
He keeps his hips against your ass, his cock sheathed by your pussy. His hands grabbing and squeezing, roaming over your body while he waits just a bit for you to get used to him inside of you. Then he’s pulling out, just the tip of his cock still tucked inside, before he fucks into you hard and fast. It knocks the breath out of you, makes your hands on the mirror slip a little.
“F-fuck,” you whisper, your head still hanging, eyes squeezed shut as he fills you up.
Jeongguk’s eyes go from watching his cock slide into you, to the mirror. He moans, the contrast of his tattooed arm on your bare back as he rocks his hips into you is so pretty, just like the way that your shoulder blades push out, how your tiny waist feathers out to the swell of your hips. The fatty part of your hips ripples and pillows against him everytime he thrusts, dull slaps echoing with the whiny moans he punches out of you with his cock.
“Look baby,” he tells you.
It takes a little bit of effort, but when you lift your head, you’re met with a disheveled, messy version of yourself. There’s tears in your eyes, the feel of Jeongguk’s fat cock pushing and pulling in and out of you is overwhelmingly good, his girth rubbing against the sensitive walls of your cunt. Your makeup is messy, your under eyes dark with smudged mascara, the coverage around your mouth and on your nose completely gone, your lips kissed swollen and red.
Eyes moving to Jeongguk behind you through the mirror, you see the way he’s watching you watch him. Watching as your expression changes, how your eyes flutter when he hits that spot inside of you that makes your knees lock, makes your breath stutter and your brows furrow in pleasure.
“There,” you breathe, “God, you make me feel so good, baby.” Your hands slip down the mirror again, the force of his thrusts and the pleasure that’s curling in your belly already making it hard to hold yourself up. You squeeze your eyes shut to keep the tears from spilling over.
Jeongguk picks up the pace of his hips, his hands gripping yours, his thumbs digging into the little dimples at the bottom of your back, a perfect match, like they were placed there just for him. It’s almost like your body was meant for him, crafted with him in mind, fitting together so flawlessly that it’s hard for him to remember there were people before you, people that made him feel good before you did. Because when he’s inside of you, when he’s with you, it’s like that’s all there is. Just an endless loop of you and him, you and him, no beginning or end, no past or future, like the world is only as big as the room you’re in.
“Faster– getting close...”
Your voice echoes in his ears, and he realizes that his thrusts slowed while he got lost in thought. He clears his throat, gets back to work, back to fucking you like he means it, it’s the last time he ever will.
“You always cum so fast when I fuck you like this,” Jeongguk muses, biting his lip when he sees the way your tits jiggle in the mirror.
He expects you to be snarky, make a comment about how he’s smug, too cocky, but instead you nod your head, hands forming fists against the mirror. It’s airy and sexy when you say, “Yeah, you fuck me the best, love your cock… wanna cum for you…”
And it reminds him of the first time he fucked you. How you said more or less the same thing.
“Yeah, wanna fuck you all the time. Love your fat cock…”
That was 6 months ago. It’s not that long but it is at the same time. It feels like only a few seconds and a lifetime in the same breath. Jeongguk feels something stir in his belly, something mix with the steady build up.
“Yeah?” he asks, his voice soft and dreamy– almost fond, juxtaposing the way he’s fucking you. “What do you say?”
You wait a few moments for your body to get there, your head falling again like it's getting hard to support yourself. You’re chanting softly; pornographic ‘yeah’s’ and lewd mewls spilling from your lips nonstop.
“Fuck…” you start, “can I… can I cum?”
It sounds like it's hard for you to form words, so it's a little mean of Jeongguk to spring something new on you. But he can’t help himself.
“Who are you asking?”
A confused sound that turns to a moan at the tailend colors the air.
“I…”
“Who am I, baby? What should you call me when I’m fucking you like this?” Jeongguk asks, patient and gentle.
You say the first thing that pops into your head.
“Daddy?”
A sharp slap echoes in the room, and you’re sure there’s a red palm print on your ass. You cry out, whiny as Jeongguk leans over you, his voice in your ear.
“You know better than that,” he says, a little out of breath, but still stern. “Try again. Be polite.”
At this point you’re so close that you’re crying softly, your knees turning inward as you squeeze your legs together as if that will keep your orgasm at bay until he says you can cum. You try to listen to his words, connect the dots and finally it comes to you.
“Sir–” you gasp, “Sir, can I cum?”
Jeongguk groans a little, feels his cock jerk inside of you, the title making that hot feeling burn within him.
“Yes,” he moans, “Look at yourself while you do, want you to see how pretty you look when you cum just from my cock.”
Hardly able to keep yourself up at all, even with the help of the mirror, you tell him in a whiny voice that you can’t, that it’s too hard.
You hear him coo before your world spins a little bit, Jeongguk wrapping an arm around your tummy, pulling you to his chest. His body is burning behind you, and his breath is hot in your ear as he pants, his hips punching into you from behind. The arm that he doesn't have wrapped around your torso comes up, forearm resting between your tits, fingers getting a hold of your jaw making you look straight ahead.
The sight looking back at you is indecent. So filthy that you and Jeongguk both falter, a soft moan echoing in unison.
“Look at you,” Jeongguk purrs.
“Please,” you cry, simply because you don't know what else to say, overtaken with pleasure.
“I already said you could cum, baby,” he reminds you.
And it's like it's all too much and not enough at the same time. Like the push and pull of his cock into your cunt is too good yet exactly what you need, like his hands on you are overstimulating but without them you wouldn’t feel that safety, that feeling of being adored and taken care of. Like his voice in your ear encouraging you is too nice but if he stopped talking to you you wouldn’t know wouldn’t know what to do, that it’s okay.
“Jeongguk,” you cry. Like actually cry. No longer able to hold in the tiny, overwhelmed sobs.
He presses into the side of your head, kisses you as well as he can when he’s jackhammering his hips into your cunt. He shushes you, and his hold on your jaw softens, his other hand petting over your front soothingly. “I know, baby, I know,” he coos.
And it just makes you cry harder. “I can’t– It’s– it’s too much–”
“Yes you can,” he whispers hotly, his eyes on you in the mirror. “You can do it, be good, cum for me…”
He uses the hand he has on your front to press you back into him, closer if that were even possible, but with the slight pressure on your lower belly he feels something.
The moan that falls from his lips is so shameless and lewd. It’s not loud, but more of a soft, wondrous keen.
His cock thrusting into you can be felt with the light push into your belly, and it unlocks something in him. He grabs one of your hands that’s clutching at his forearm and brings it down, his own hand on top of yours pushing so you can feel his cock inside of you too.
“Feel that?” he asks, nipping at your ear lightly, “So hard for you, so deep that you can feel me through your belly... Let go for me, baby, wanna feel you cum on my cock while I can feel myself inside you from the outside.”
Maybe it’s feeling him from the outside, or maybe it's the way he always manages to keep that soft, gentle way with you no matter what. Even if he gets worked up, losing himself a bit– he never leaves you, never becomes too harsh or rough. He’s always the perfect mix of both, and that’s what makes the pleasure that’s been ebbing in you wash over your body.
You tremble in his arms and soft, desperate whimpers get exhaled as you cum. No warning, but Jeongguk knows, feels the way you contract around him as he slows his hips a little, giving you longer, unhurried thrusts. He lets you bathe in it, the dreamy, dizzying high that makes you delirious as you thank him with teary words.
“That’s my girl, so good for me all the time… knew you could do it,” he says, his hips gradually starting to pick up again, his thrusts sloppy.
Vision is a little blurry when you blink your eyes, but the sight of Jeongguk wrapped around you, his face in your neck biting and moaning into your skin–
“Please cum inside of me,” you beg.
“Yeah, gonna–” he tells you, his teeth sinking into that spot between your shoulder and neck. You gasp when he sucks, knowing that there will be a mark, and you bring your hand up to his hair, keeping him close.
Jeongguk switches from those harsh sucks and bites to sweet kisses up your neck to your jaw. His fingers on your face urge you to look over your shoulder, and the distance between your lips and his is too small, too tempting for him to not take it.
He kisses you, desperate just like his thrusts are becoming until he's right at the crest.
“Gonna cum,” he pants against your lips, his hand on your tummy still pushing to feel himself.
You nod, still looking at him behind you, placing soft kisses on his lips at first and then wherever you can reach until he succumbs to the pleasure, his eyes closing and his head lulling back a little before he’s pressing into your sweaty hair, like he wants to hide yet stay close to you. He cums with a gasp, cock buried deep, throbbing with every shot of white that paints you from the inside.
As soon as he catches his breath, he kisses you.
He kisses you again and again and again.
~~~
There’s something so intimate… so vulnerable about letting someone wash you.
When there’s no ulterior motives laced with sex or lust. Just gentle touches, pure in the way they take their time with lathering up even the simple, boring parts of your body. Paying special mind to your hands, your calves. Behind your ears, your shoulders.
Jeongguk’s touching you like you’re sunshine.
Like he’s savoring the warmth of your body under his fingertips even though it's too hot in the shower.
He’s touching you like you’re the perfect day, one so perfect that he’s scared it will pass by before he can enjoy it.
He’s touching you with so much care and attention and it feels so good that it’s blissful. It feels so– it feels like when you’re a little kid and you return to the comfort of your home after a long day, to the familiarness of your bed, to everything that makes you feel safe.
It feels like your favorite memory. The one you keep adding onto because the details have gotten fuzzy, but you clutch onto it because it's too precious to let go of.
It feels like a–
It feels like–
Jeongguk takes his time with you.
It feels so good that it’s almost overwhelming in a way that you’ve never experienced before. It feels so good that tears sting behind your eyelids, so different from the tears you shed earlier.
He delicately untangles your hair, gets out all the knots he put in it. He cups your face, gently rubbing the pads of his thumbs under your eyes, getting the makeup off as best he can. He’s careful when he’s suds up your body, mindful of the light blossoms that he planted into your skin. The violet on your neck pulses under the care, a bloom that’s pretty, a bloom that aches, a bloom that feels good.
He’s adoring, he’s soft, he’s bliss.
When his lips kiss your cheek, it's almost platonic, simply because it lacks desire. It sounds bad, embarrassing maybe, that he’s not desiring your naked body in front of him, but it’s not– it’s something new and it's so incredibly wholesome. His kisses are so sweet, so pure, so innocent and just an expression of caring rather than wanting that it makes you want him in a way that scares you.
After the final rinse, you kiss his cheek. Hope and yearn that he can feel half of what he made you feel. You hope he knows what you mean when you say quietly, “Thank you.”
~~~
“Wear this one, you look good in white.”
Jeongguk has a fluffy grey towel tied around his hips, lingering water droplets disappearing when they trek far enough down his torso. And you’re scrunching your hair in a matching towel, warm from the heated towel rack. The atmosphere in his bedroom is warm too, soft and comfortable, sweet like a cup of hot tea.
He’s got one of his white shirts scrunched in his hands, ready to dress you. Quiet laughter putters from your lips as you reach your hands up and into the arm holes as he pulls the neck hole over your head. When you pop out Jeongguk is close enough for you to kiss him, so you do.
“We’ve kissed so much today,” he says thoughtfully, turning and digging in his drawers. Instead of taking care of himself, he finds a pair of your lounge shorts that you left here.
“I know, how gross,” you say with playful disgust in your tone, as you take that and step into the shorts. Panties are unnecessary apparently, since he doesn’t hand you one of the stray pairs you know are in his dresser.
He hums walking into the bathroom. “It’s nice, I like kissing you.”
You roll your eyes following him. Hopping onto the counter you watch as he does his skincare. “We already had sex, no need to butter me up, sir.”
The corners of his mouth turn up just barely as he tries not to smile, hardly glancing at you as he dabs his moisturizer in.
“I like it when you’re around,” he says simply.
Heat rushes to your face, and your heart beats loud in your ears and something feels so different.  
So of course you just change the subject.
“I’m so glad we ordered food before the shower.” You place a hand on your belly, “I’m so hungry.”
“Hopefully you clicked the right stuff, since you were, you know, a little distracted… seeing as we were kissing… so much… because I like to kiss you...”
“Do you want a kiss right now? Is that why you’re being annoying?”
He makes an offended expression before immediately going back to his normal face, tinted with faux nonchalance. He shrugs his tattooed shoulder, tapping the cream in. “I wouldn’t object to a kiss or two…”
And so he gets a kiss or two or three, soft, giddy little pecks.
He pulls away, and just looks at you for a few seconds, doe-eyes dancing across your features before falling and lingering on the lovebite he left that’s peeking out. The neck of his shirt is too big, hanging loose. His hand comes up and he fingers at the material like he’s thinking of straightening the shirt out for you.
He doesn’t, instead bringing the hand to your jaw, making you tilt your head, looking up at him.
“You’re so pretty,” he says, his thumb gliding on the apple of your cheek.
Your eyes fall shut, content. A lazy smile laces your words when you say, “Thanks.”
Cute kissy noises ring in your ears until they don’t, the doorbell taking their place.
You pull away so fast that Jeongguk is almost insulted. Jumping from the counter you squeal about the food, tapping his toweled butt on the way out of the bathroom, telling him to hurry up and get dressed as you rummage through your purse for your wallet.
“Wait I’ll pay,” he says, finally dropping his towel and snagging a pair of briefs.
“It’s okay!” you call over your shoulder, speed walking to his front door.
The walk from Jeongguk’s bedroom isn’t too long, but your thoughts are fast, running a mile a minute. The thought of how good today has been, how easy it is to be with him. How whenever you’re with him you find that your cheeks hurt when you go home, laughter constant, and smiles ever present. You think about how warm his home is, how warm he is, how being with him is a comfort that you’ve come to crave.
The smile that is on your face is unconscious, the remnants of the soft emotions swirling in your chest, feeling like you’ve finally pinpointed what's so different about today.
When you open the door, that lingering smile falls and that hazy feeling evaporates.
In front of you is not a delivery guy.
It’s the woman from the pictures. The framed one in the hallway, the one on top of Nari’s dresser, the one in the photo albums Jeongguk let you browse through when you wanted to see his daughter as a newborn. It’s the same woman that was in the picture he sent you.
And your heart drops when you take her in. You knew she was pretty, but the pictures don’t even scratch the surface. Even when her features are pulled in perturbed confusion, she’s beautiful. She’s put together, long dark hair styled and sleek, make up done minimally but elegantly, her parted lips a sheer coral. Her straight, dark brows are furrowed causing a slight wrinkle between them. It looks out of place, an imperfection that doesn’t belong.
Her sharp eyes scan you, both of you just kind of standing there in the doorway, taking the other in. They go from your wet hair, to your face, down to where Jeongguk’s shirt hangs loosely off your shoulder. Her gaze hardens as she lingers there for just a moment, before directing dark eyes back at you.
It feels like it’s been hours, that you both have been there, but in reality it's not even a minute. She looks like she’s going to say something, but the impatient baby in the woman’s arms makes herself known.
At the high pitched squeal that Nari lets out, you snap out of it, plastering a smile on your face. The little one is smiling, clearly excited to see you, her doe-eyes curling and getting mini puffs under them. When she leans away from her mom, arms reaching out towards you, it’s instinct when you go to take her from her mom.
“Hi! Sorry Gguk’s in–” You falter, arms raised halfway, when Nari gets pulled out of reach.
The woman doesn’t go as far as taking a step away from you, but she turns at the waist kind of putting herself and some distance between you and her baby. As you let your hands fall in timid, jerky movements, you look between the two in front of you, and Nari’s doing the same, a cute confused expression on her face like she doesn’t know why she wasn’t allowed to play with you.
And it’s not like you blame Nari’s mom. It’s very apparent that she has no clue who you are. If anything you think it’s good that her mom is protective enough to not just hand Nari over to someone she doesn’t know. It makes sense, but it stings.
“Ba?” Nari babbles, to her mom.
The woman’s cold gaze breaks at the sound of her daughter's voice, and morphs into one of quiet love as she directs her eyes to the baby, giving her a soft smile. She bounces Nari a little on her hip, and Nari giggles. When they are looking at each other, their profile resemblance is striking. Of course Nari’s features are still baby soft, but it's obvious that they have the same nose. Small, slightly upturned. The same lips too; plump with the upper lip almost rounded.
“Who is this, Riri?” she asks her baby playfully, her eyes finding you again at the tailend of her sentence.
She’s smiling, but her eyes are stony, guarded, as she looks at you expectantly.
“I’m __– I’m a uh… a friend of Jeongguk’s?”
Her eyes narrow for a fraction of a second when you say ‘friend’ and the coolness she’s emitting is enough for you to call for Jeongguk for your shoulder, needing the comfort of him. The woman in front of you is intimidating in a way you don’t think you could ever achieve. It’s something about the way she carries herself, so collected and aloof, like she’s mastered the art of keeping it together.
And you’re not scared of her, not really. But what are you supposed to do in this situation other than call for Jeongguk?
At the thought of him, you hear his voice come from behind you and when you turn, you see him walking out of his room, bottom half clothed in dark joggers, his top half bare as he clumsily pulls a shirt over his head.
“Do you need cash for the ti–” When his wet head of hair pops out of the neck hole, and he sees not one girl in front of him, but three, his voice cuts out, and he slows as he takes in the scene before him. You see how his chest expands as he takes a deep breath, like he’s preparing himself before quickening his pace.
Nari starts to kick in her mom’s hold when she sees her dad approaching, excited little gasps puffing out of her.
“Hi, little flower,” Jeongguk coos, smiling wide as he brings his hand up, tickling Nari’s neck, making the baby squirm and curl in on herself as she bubbles out a giggle. “Dasom,” he says as a greeting to his ex-wife, as takes his place next to you, his hand settling on your lower back for just a moment, like he’s letting you know he’s there.
Dasom lets the corners of her lips turn up slightly as she says, “Jeongguk.”
“What are you doing here?” he asks. You can tell he’s trying to keep his voice neutral.
“Something came up at work. I have to go to the headquarters a few cities over for a few days,” Nari grabs at the dainty necklace she’s wearing, and Dasom gently untangles her little fingers, offering her her wrist instead. A heavier, more sturdy piece of jewelry keeps Nari busy. “I texted you hours ago letting you know I was on my way.”
“I was busy. I didn’t have my phone on me,” he explains.
Dasom looks between you both. The freshly washed hair on both your heads, the mark on your neck. The too-big, white shirt you have on that’s clearly not yours. “I can see that,” she replies coolly.
And suddenly you feel so out of place, so uncomfortable. Standing between two people who used to share the home you’re surrounded by. Two people who share the sweet baby girl that’s content babbling to herself. Two people who were married, who were in love, who have so much history together. You know it’s mildly absurd, because they’re divorced, but you feel like you’re intruding, like you’re doing something wrong.
You’re just about to excuse yourself when Jeongguk sighs, runs a frustrated hand through his hair, reaching out and taking Nari from her mom. “__, can you take Nari and wait for me in the playroom?”
“Daaa,” she peeps happily in her dad’s big arms, as he hands her off to you.
“Kook–” Dasom says, uneasiness lacing her tone.
“She’s fine Dasom, she’s been with __ many times,” Jeongguk says with a finality to his tone.
Dasom says her goodbyes to Nari, a tense silence falling over the house as you walk away with the baby. It’s not till Dasom thinks you’re far enough away that she speaks up.
“Who is that, Jeongguk?”
Jeongguk shuts his eyes roughly when he hears a hint of confused hurt in her voice. He can tell she’s trying to mask it, but he’s known her for a long time. Remembers clearly what it sounds like, memories of all the painful talks preceding the divorce edging on his conscience.
“She’s a friend,” he sighs.
“How old are your friends these days?” Dasom questions, confusion turning to judgement– obvious in her tone and her stance, her arms crossing over her torso.
Jeongguk hangs his head and scrubs his hands over his face. “How was Nari?” he asks, trying to change the subject.
His ex has different plans. “How old is she?”
He looks up at her sharp tone, a surprised color to his features. He looks over his shoulder towards the playroom before he turns back to her, a soft incredulous scoff leaving his lips. “She’s old enough, and I’m not doing this with you. So if you don’t have any updates–” His hand is on the door in the process of inching it closed when Dasom interrupts him.
“You know,” she starts, “I never thought I’d have to worry about this with you. Thought you’d be able to keep your personal and parenting lives separate.”
And she knows exactly which buttons of his to push; of course she does. She was married to him for years, knew him better than anyone else at one point in time. She knows that insinuating that he is a lacking parent, that he doesn’t always put their daughter first, will irk him enough to pull a reaction out of him.
It’s purposefully done– vindictiveness an ugly side of his ex that doesn’t come out of her often, only when she’s hurt and wants to hurt back. Or at least it didn’t happen often. It’s been over a year, and people change.
“Are you sure you want to debate which of us has trouble separating and balancing things when you’re the one dropping our daughter off in the middle of your week with her, to go to work?” he asks, his tone icy. He knows her well too. Knows it’s the same insinuations that hurt him, that cut her as well.
Anger colors Dasom’s features as she takes a step closer to Jeongguk, her head tilted a little as she looks up at him. “I do it for her. To provide for her. You know that,” she spits, “And I keep my lovers away from her while I’m at it.”
Jeongguk laughs, like he can’t believe he’s having this conversation. “I’m sure you do, Dasom,” he pauses, debating on whether to add what he’s thinking. “And for the record, I don’t have ‘lovers’. I’m only seeing one person.”
“And are you planning on committing to her? Making it long term?”
Caught off guard doesn’t even really begin to cover the whiplash-like feeling that Jeongguk experiences when he hears the question.
He hesitates, flounders a little. He cares about you, likes you so, so much. And he’s not stupid– he knows that he feels something for you that’s vastly different from what he’s felt for the others before you but– you’re young. So young, with your whole life ahead of you. Meanwhile, he has his life already booked for the next 16 years, at least. He’s never really let himself think about things long term, because it just doesn’t seem realistic. Asking you to commit to not only him, but a two year old as well? It seems selfish to ask that of you, like an unintentional trap that steals your freedom. He can’t ask for that. He won’t.
“I…”
Dasom looks disillusioned, like she really did expect better from Jeongguk. “I didn’t think so. You’re not even dating her... She’s your ‘friend’?” she asks.
Jeongguk just looks at her with pursed lips and pinched brows.
“And when you’re not ‘friends’ anymore, Kook?” she asks again, “Are you just going to bring another ‘friend’into Nari’s life for her to get attached to just for them to leave again? And what about when she’s older? Do you want her thinking that’s what women do? Come and go?”
Dasom’s words are exaggerated and extreme– she doesn't know the circumstances between you and him, doesn’t know that it was Nari that introduced you to one another, so waiting to introduce you and his daughter wasn’t an option. And it’s not like Jeongguk is ever going to have a legion of women filtering through his home.
But the point is made all the same.
“No, of course I don’t want that,” he says defeated, as he tilts his head back for a moment, letting his eyes shut.
“Yeah, me either,” she says. Her voice lacks the judgment it held at the beginning of the conversion, being replaced by blasé melancholy. “So I hope she gets it out of your system. Please drop Nari off next Friday, just like always.”
Turning on her heel, Dasom makes to leave before she stops abruptly. She takes a deep breath with her head tilted back, before she’s looking down, like she’s tired. Like the fight with Jeongguk took a lot of her. She pulls a folder from her bag, turning back around and presenting it to Jeongguk.
“For Ri’s speech…” she says softly, “I took her to another speech pathologist yesterday. This one said try doing signs during meals. ‘All done’. ‘More’...” Dasom does the signs haphazardly waving her hands about. “Doctor said it...” She takes a deep breath, and laughs halfheartedly, and Jeongguk can see how she’s tearing up. “Well, like all the other doctor’s we’ve taken her to, they said it may help.”
Her eyes are glassy when she looks at him, and Jeongguk’s heart aches because he knows exactly how she feels.
The anxiety and constant worry you feel over your child’s well-being is one of the hardest things to navigate because you have to keep it together and not let yourself get defeated. You have to come to terms with the fact that sometimes there’s things that, as a parent, you can’t fix, and that sometimes you can do everything right and still have things go wrong– things that may never be able to go right.
He knows that there is an unexplainable guilt, that there’s always that little voice in the back of your head that tells you that maybe if you had done this, then that wouldn’t have happened. It’s a horribly helpless feeling, wanting nothing more than to make things better for your child, and not being able to.
“She’s fine you know,” he says softly, “she’s just taking her time.”
Dasom tries to nod, but she breaks. Her hands come up to cover her quivering chin and quiet her soft cries. She buries her face in her palms as her shoulders tremble.
“Hey, hey,” Jeongguk whispers, reaching out and pulling her to his chest. Her hands are still covering her face, so his arms circle around her as a whole and he rests his chin on her head and lets her cry, his own eyes stinging.
It’s only a minute or two that Dasom weeps against his chest. She’s then pulling away with a deep breath, blowing it out in that soothing way trying to calm herself, trying to regulate her breathing. She laughs, airy like she’s embarrassed, as she taps under her eyes, trying to save her makeup as best she can.
“Ah… sorry about that,” she says, “Haven’t cried in a while so that was bound to happen sometime soon.”
Jeongguk laughs quietly before he muses, “She can say juice now.”
Dasom rolls her eyes playfully. “Yeah… Joofs.”
They both laugh together, for a moment, a few moments, until it tapers off naturally. Leaving soft wistful smiles on their faces.
“Drive safe, Som-ie.”
~~~
“Yeah… Joofs.”
The laughter that echoes from Jeongguk’s foyer feels like a punch in the gut after everything that you’ve heard. All the things you felt earlier seem stupid and childish in hindsight.  
And yeah, you don’t blame Jeongguk for staying quiet when Dasom asked if he wanted to commit to you because that’s not something you guys have even touched on, but when he stayed silent as she went on about you just being his ‘friend’? Alluding to you just being a lay for him, just something he needs to ‘get out of his system’? Something disposable and unimportant?
You had at least expected him to defend you.
To tell her that while you may not be his girlfriend, you are important to him. More than a quick lay, more than just a young girl he needs to fuck out of his system. Because you know that’s exactly what she thinks you are. And what she thinks doesn't matter, not really, but if that’s what Jeongguk thinks?
Part of you knows that there’s no way that Jeongguk thinks that. That if he did, this thing between you both would have fizzled out by now or at least been harder to deal with. But that’s never been the case. It’s always been good with him, easy.
If he thought that way, he wouldn’t have been so worried in the beginning and would have instead jumped at the chance to get into your pants. You weren’t exactly subtle back then– there were plenty of opportunities for him to come onto you. But it literally took you throwing yourself at him for him to give in.
So like you know. You know, you know, you know in your heart that it’s not true, that he doesn’t think that little of you.
But his silence was enough to plant a seed of doubt, enough to break a little bit of trust. More than enough to hurt you.
“Naaa.”
You look down at Nari, and she reaches her hands up wanting to be held. A soft, pitiful laugh falls from your lips and you bend to pick her up.
“Sorry, wasn’t playing with you was I?”
Nari looks at you, studies you with those big eyes of hers. She pats at your cheek, a little roughly, but you can tell she’s trying to be gentle. Her little hand goes from patting to petting, almost like she’s trying to soothe you, like she can tell you’re upset.
“Buu?” she asks.
In reality you have no idea what she’s saying. But it feels like she’s asking if you’re okay, and just like if an adult were to ask you that when you’re close to losing it, close to breaking– it makes you cry.
Not the embarrassing type of cry, but just a tiny cry in front of the sweetest, tiny human. Your eyes just tear up, and your chin trembles a little bit as you try to muster up a small smile, but when you blink a couple tears spill over.
Nari gasps. “Nuuu!” she tells you, before she’s wrapping her tiny bread arms around your neck, clutching onto you like she’s trying to squeeze out all of the sad.
It makes you let out a watery laugh, and you squeeze back, enough so that she croaks a little like a frog. When you pull back she’s giggling in that pure baby way that probably has healing powers or something.
“You are so smart,” you tell her, sniffing a little, trying to get yourself together. You’re not sure if Dasom left yet, or how much longer it will be before Jeongguk comes back, and you don’t want him to know you were crying, or eavesdropping.
She tilts her head at you, then leans in with her lips pulled between her teeth making them pop out when they are against your cheek, a tiny ‘maa’ sounding with her smooch.
“That’s a new type of kiss,” you tell her.
“Sol-mi, Yoongi and Jimin’s daughter, taught her at the party.”
Whipping around at the sound of his voice, you turn and see Jeongguk leaning against the doorway with two glasses of wine in his hands and a sippy cup tucked into his arm. He gives you a soft smile, and you smile back because that’s the only thing you know how to do when you’re with him. Instinctive.
“Hi,” you say.
“Hi,” he says back.
“DAAADAAA!” Nari screeches.
You pull back, wincing for your ear drum, as you let Nari down with an endeared laugh. She toddles over to her dad, tugging on his joggers.
“Hi my babygirl,” he says. Then laughs when she tugs particularly hard, “Hey– you’re gonna pull Daddy’s pants down, quit it.”
“Joofs,” she says, grabby hands reaching for the sippy cup she spotted.
“I see how it is,” he says, handing you your glass and then grabbing the juice, “Didn’t even miss me?”
He manages to sit down without his hands and without squishing his daughter, and you follow suit, watching the daddy-daughter moment unfold, quietly sipping on your wine. Trying your best to push everything else out of your mind, trying to get that almost... safe, warm feeling back. The one that you always get when you’re with Jeongguk. It’s been missing since he came into the room.
“Give Daddy a kiss and then you can have your juice,” he angles his cheek to her and then adds on, “Also say please.” like it’s an afterthought.
You shake your head, smiling, and Jeongguk flicks his eyes to you, mirroring your expression.
“Peeb,” she spouts before she gives him a very quick, rather half-assed kiss. She doesn’t even do the ‘maa’. Her hands open out in front of her, expectant and ready for her drink.
Jeongguk tuts at her, but hands the juice over. “You’re rotten, missy.”
Nari says nothing, just waddles so she's standing in front of him with her back to his face. She plops herself right in his lap, his criss-crossed legs making a perfect Nari-shaped seat. Sipping away with her drink in one hand, her other comes down to Jeongguk’s tattooed arm that he wrapped around her belly. Tracing them with her pudgy little fingers, she tries her best to look down while simultaneously keeping her drink in the proper position.
It’s quiet for a bit, just Nari’s soft drinking noises. You take the moment to get up and grab something from your stuff in Jeongguk’s room, before returning. As you’re walking past Jeongguk back to your spot across from him, you feel his hand tug at the one you have dangling by your side.
You look at him, a small questioning noise sounding.
He pulls, making you bend at the waist getting closer to his level, and when he tilts his head back to look up at you, his eyes flicker to your lips and then he licks his and then he’s craning his neck and then he’s kissing you softly.
It’s fleeting but it's sweet. It makes the warm feeling settle in your heart again, just for a moment before it hides away, somewhere within you. Your eyes dart to Nari. Kisses usually being reserved for alone time.
He shakes his head. “It’s alright… Sorry that happened while you were here… Me and Dasom usually communicate better than that.”
You take a seat next to him and Nari, careful of his wine glass. “It’s okay…”
Gazes meet for a few seconds looking over the other like you’re both trying to figure something out. Things different from the ‘different’ you felt earlier. This different feels like something is off; the first one felt like a dream. Maybe it was.
“Okay,” he replies lightly, but he sounds unsure, like he doesn't know if it actually is ‘okay’. His eyes drop to the small bag that you brought into the room. “Whatcha got?”
You tell him you got Nari something for her birthday, nothing big but just something that reminded you of her. You ask him if it’s okay to give it to her.
He says of course, why wouldn’t it be?
For some reason the tiny exchange hurts.
Lacking an answer, you pinch at the little fat roll on Nari’s thigh, her tiny jean shorts putting all the chub on display. She looks up at you, and you raise the bag and shake it a little. Her smile grows as she realizes it's for her. Jeongguk is abandoned, your lap now occupied.
“She has no loyalty at all,” Jeongguk says.
“She’s just making as many allies as she can, and I think that is very smart of her,” you defend, watching as Nari plucks tissue paper after tissue paper out of the bag (with only one small hand, the other still holding her juice), until she’s squealing. Your face lights up at her enthusiasm, and hers lights up at the toy, and you don’t see it, but Jeongguk’s lights up at you both.
You’ve been good with her since that day you found her at your work, and Jeongguk notices when you go out of your way to ask about her, to be kind to her, patient with her... to take care of her. Never once have you treated her like she was a burden, or an inconvenience.
He sees the way that Nari is with you, too.
Sees how happy she gets when you walk in his front door, how she always shares her things with you in that sweet way that babies do when they like someone. She even asks about you when you don't come around for a few days. A babbled version of your name peeping from her little lips.
It’s no secret that his baby has grown attached to you, come to love you. Dasom’s words ring in his ears. The thing she said about Nari getting used to someone he brings into her life, just for them to not be permanent.  
A medium sized, pink, stuffed Narwhal is pulled from the bag by the horn, and Nari swings it to the side to show her dad, just for a moment, before she’s squeezing it to her chest. She’s cooing, kinda nuzzling into it.
“Ba buuu,” she says softly, eyes still on the gift like it's something wondrous, rather than just a small plush. Jeongguk grows soft and your heart squeezes in your chest. The warmth comes back, flickers before going out again.
“What is it?” Jeongguk asks around a sip of his wine.
“A narwhal. You know, Nar-i, Nar-whal.”
His mouth twitches, fighting a smile, but he just nods. Until he can’t hold his laughter in anymore, making you laugh too by consequence. Easy.
The little crows feet at the corners of his eyes make an appearance and he scrunches his nose at you as he quiets. His hair is still just a little bit damp. “It’s cute,” he amends. “You didn’t have to get her anything, but thank you for thinking about her.”
The smile on his lips is tiny, but you can tell it’s genuine. Without laughter lightning up his face, you realize how tired he looks, warn out.
“Are you okay?” you say, arms raising so Nari is able to get up, making her way to her other toys, the narwhal tucked into her side. She grabs a babydoll, holds it to the narwhal and makes them move around like she’s introducing her toys.
Jeongguk sighs, and leans back on his hands. “Just wasn’t expecting that, is all… I get stressed when things don’t go as planned.”
“That’s why you broke out the wine in the middle of the day?” you ask with a teasing tone.
He rolls his eyes playfully. “One glass won’t hurt…”
The doorbell cuts off your reply. The food’s here.
~~~
The headboard behind Jeongguk’s back is hard, just like he is under you.
But his touches are soft, just like his kisses.
You’re straddling him, your hips just barely rocking over him as you lick into his mouth. Mewl against his lips. Hands in his hair, not pulling, but just twining your fingers in his locks, keeping him close.
It’s slow, unhurried and gentle. When he brings his palms to your chest over his shirt, he feels how your nipples pebble through the material as he squeezes, rolls them in his hands. So responsive to his touch, you pull away for just a moment to breathe out a pleased sigh before giving him a few cute pecks. Pushing into your lips, he deepens the kisses, his tongue teasing the seam of your lips until you open up for him.
He feels young again, like he’s making out with his crush, heavy petting because they are too scared to go all the way, but too into each other to not give in just a little. He hasn’t felt this way in so long. You gasp into his mouth when he pinches your nipple between his fingertips. His cock pulses, but his heart clenches.
It’s like reality is finally catching up to him. Reminding him that you and him were never supposed to get in so deep, were never supposed to get so entangled in each other’s lives. Fun and casual. That’s what it’s supposed to be. But it’s so much more than that now. At least for him it is.
His heart clenches because he’s not young anymore, but you still are.
The baby monitor that goes off with hiccuping cries just confirms his feelings.
“Sorry,” he says against your lips, his hands moving to your hips, squeezing before he helps maneuver you off of him.
“Bring her back in here,” you suggest.
Jeongguk pauses, twisting to crack his back. “You sure?”
You hum, “Yeah, wanna hang out with you both.”
And again his heart pulls, but he nods with a soft smile and a quick kiss before he’s hurrying out of the room.
Hands scrub over your face as you wait for him, your head knocking against the headboard. You purposefully focus on playing a game on your phone while you wait, refusing to let your thoughts loop incessantly around your brain.
It's a little while when Jeongguk walks back in with Nari on his hip. The sight makes you coo.
Nari’s looking around like she’s still a little out of it, her tiny round body in a light pink nightie covered in little bunnies sleeping on clouds and moons. Instead of her hair being in her trademark little ponies, it’s down, falling in messy little wisps around her face. The narwhal is clutched in her tiny hand by the horn and when she sees you, she blinks a few times before she smiles around the paci in her mouth.
“Hi sweet girl,” you say, when Jeongguk places her on the bed.
She tries to walk over to you, but the bed is soft and she’s very much still tired so she stumbles, hits the mattress with a small oof and an airy little giggle. Crawling the rest of the way she sits herself next to you, puts her plush in her lap.
“Think someone had a bad dream,” Jeongguk says around a yawn, taking his spot on the bed. “Also sorry it took a second, had to change her pull up.”
You hum, your hand coming up to pet at her hair, dark, silky, and baby scented.
“Wanna watch something, boba?” Jeongguk asks, laying himself on his side, one hand propped under his head, the other on the remote.
Nari nods, hunkers down in the fluffy pillow behind her. She looks at you and pats the sheets, as if telling you to lay down like her and her Daddy. Of course you listen.
It’s calm and quiet, just the children’s show playing in the background that you all are watching. You and Jeongguk half heartedly, Nari with round eyes. She lets out little laughs every now and then, her blinks slow and heavy. Jeongguk’s got a hand resting on Nari’s tummy and her little hand holds onto his thumb.
The scene is domestic.
“She doesn’t have nightmares often, does she?” you ask quietly.
Jeongguk glances at you, shakes his head. “Not here at least.”
“Has she always been a co sleeper?”
Jeongguk shakes his head again. “Not till after the divorce,” he says. “And I wouldn’t say she still co sleeps… most nights she sleeps on well on her own. I just don’t tell her no if she wants to come into my room.”
At the mention of the divorce your brain begins to whirl.
It’s not something he brings up often, and it’s never really bothered you. But after today, after you saw and heard how he and his ex interacted… It makes you curious. They seem to get along decently well, and they both clearly love Nari.
You sound a bit timid when you ask, “Why did you guys split up?”
Jeongguk’s quiet, doesn’t acknowledge that he heard you even though you know that he did. You worry that you’ve said something wrong, and you’re about to apologize but he speaks up.
“I’ll tell you… just getting my thoughts in order.”
~~~
Jeongguk stares down at the teeny, tiny baby in the bassinet. The light pink of the skirt at the bottom matches the accents on the walls of her nursery.
Her big eyes are watching the fairy mobile, big felt flowers dangling above her, the softest baby coos leaving her mouth every once in a while. She was already up when he got home from work.
When he puts his hand inside the baby bed and extends one of his fingers petting at her small hand, the baby jumps a little like she didn’t know he was there, but recognition is instant and she smiles up at him, her tiny fingers clutching around his.
“Hi miss Nari,” he says quietly, “How long have you been up, hmm? Bout time for some milk isn’t it?”
She blows a bubble up at him.
His heart swells as he picks her up, a big hand supporting her head as he pulls her to his chest. A detour to the changing table precedes his walk to the living room, where his wife is sat cross legged on the floor, papers and her laptop scattered in front of her on the coffee table. The video baby monitor is propped up as well.
“Hi honey,” Jeongguk says.
Dasom looks over her shoulder, sees the two of them and smiles. “Hey, how was work? And how’s our baby?” She types something on her laptop.
“Baby is good and work was work. Remember how I said we are thinking of setting up another branch?” Jeongguk asks, swaying a little with his cheek resting on Nari’s head. She smells like baby and Dasom hums in acknowledgement. “My brother finally got me a list of locations, so just a lot of assigning scouts to scope them out and budgeting for the cost of their travel.”
“That’s great, babe,” Dasom says.
Jeongguk watches her for a few more moments, as she flips through the papers like she’s looking for something. He walks around, so that he can sit in the loveseat off to the side, adjusts Nari so that she’s cradled in the bend of his arm. “What are you doing?” he asks.
“Just reviewing everything that’s happened at the office over the last few months…” She flicks her eyes to him.
Jeongguk frowns. “You still have two and a half weeks before you have to go back, don’t you?”
“Yeah, wanna be prepared though.”
Nari starts to wiggle in his arms, fussy. “Did you ever see if you could get a few more weeks since you guys were in the hospital for so long? That’s hardly a leave, if you ask me.”
She laughs lightly. “That’s true. But I don’t think it’s necessary? She’s doing really well, and I think that that Montessori nursery will be good for her.”
Tension fills Jeongguk’s body. “I thought we talked about letting Yeoreum watch her when you go back to work.”
“Well yes. We talked about it– but we didn’t commit to–”
“We didn’t commit to Montessori either–”
“What benefits is Nari getting if we do that?” Dasom says, finally giving Jeongguk her full attention. “No offense to Jin’s wife, but it’s not like she’s certified to care for newborns.”
“She’s a mother, Som. A very good one, she knows how to care for a baby. And Nari would be the only baby she’s taking care of so it’s one on one attention and it’s someone we know and trust so–”
“Montessori has curriculum, and it teaches children to be independent–”
“She’s a baby! She doesn’t need to be independent. She needs to be–”
Nari’s fussiness has escalated, her tiny cries filling the living room. Jeongguk starts rocking her, shushing her with soft coos. He tries the pacifier attached to her onesie, but she just pushes it out, crying louder.
“She’s hungry,” Jeongguk says, getting to his feet so he can hand her to her mom.
“I pre-pumped when she was napping earlier. There’s a bottle with 6.5 ounces in the fridge.”
Picking his battles and barely suppressing a frustrated sigh, he walks to the kitchen and places the bottle in the warmer. Nari’s cries continue to sound as he waits, bouncing her a little, rubbing her back.
Back in the loveseat, he tries to give Nari her dinner but she’s grumpy, turning her head or pushing the nipple out of her mouth, growing angrier by the minute, her tiny body turning red from how hard she’s crying.
“She’s not taking the bottle, I think she–”
“Is it warm enough?”
“Yes, I think she wants you.”
Nari’s mom looks over the top of her laptop and nods. “I’m just about done–”
“Dasom, please,” Jeongguk says, “She’s hungry and she wants her mom.”
Almost like a fog clears, Dasom’s face falls before she’s nodding hastily. “Yeah, yeah… I’m sorry I– bring her to me.”
As soon as Nari’s in her mom’s arms she quiets some, and once Dasom holds her close and starts to feed her it’s serene again. Nari’s little hand opens and closes rhythmically, until her mom gives her her finger, like Jeongguk did early. Ever since she came home from the hospital, she’s liked to hold hands.
“I’m sorry,” Dasom whispers again, without looking at Jeongguk. He can hear the guilt in her voice.
He tells her it's okay and that he’s going to shower.
Later when Nari’s down for the night and he and his wife are laying in bed, Dasom apologizes again. Tells Jeongguk that she was just stressed with preparing for work and juggling the baby.
“Som-ie, that reminds me, I was thinking…”
She turns to look at him from his side of the bed, smiling. “Not too hard, hopefully.”
“Ha-ha,” he says, unamused. He continues nervously, like he’s walking on eggshells. “But I was thinking– what if you took off for the first year or so?”
The shift in atmosphere is instant. Dasom goes stiff in her spot next to him, and she says silent.
“I only say it because we would be fine, you know?” He tries to explain, “My job brings in more than enough for us to be okay, and if you just stayed home with her, you could teach her the way that you want and I would get the peace of mind knowing that she’s safe with someone I love and trust. We would solve the daycare dilemma…”
Still, his wife says nothing, her brows furrowed.
“And you wouldn’t be so stressed…” Jeongguk continues, “you wouldn’t have to worry about work on top of being a mom… You would never miss any of her firsts and–”
“When we talked about having a baby, I told you I didn’t want to be one of those moms.”
Dasom’s voice is upset, her tone hard.
“I know, I know,” Jeongguk says softly, “But it wouldn’t be for forever. Just until she’s older… I read that companies will give extended leaves sometimes, kind of like a sabbatical.”
She laughs in disbelief, “How long have you been thinking about this? I’m not taking an extended leave, or a sabbatical, or a hiatus or whatever it is you’ve been researching, Jeongguk. I worked so hard to get to where I am,” she closes her eyes like she’s trying to stay calm, “You can’t ask me to throw that away.”
“That’s not what I’m asking–”
“But it is!” she exclaims, “Even being gone for 3 months has already put me back. My position isn’t one that can stay open for extended periods of time. And that means if I take off for even just a year– it’ll be given to someone else. Someone else will come into what I built and either reap the benefits or ruin it.”
Jeongguk stays quiet, looking at the pattern of the duvet over his lap.
It’s softer when Dasom speaks up again. “If that’s the kind of mother you want me to be– the kind that has no substance, or passions, or goals outside of being a mom– then… you may as well get the papers.”
Jeongguk’s head snaps up, his expression shocked and confused. “Divorce? Why is that the first thing your mind goes to?”
Dasom runs her hands through her hair, pressing the heels of her palms against her temples. “I’m not gonna bend on this, Kook.”
And it was almost like when the idea of divorce was spoken into existence, it was something that hung over them, like a curse that took only 7 months to come true.
~~~
“Dasom is a good mom,” Jeongguk says slowly, “We just parent very differently.”
You stay quiet, waiting for him to continue, adjusting yourself so that you’re looking at him.
“That’s the root of it, really. We couldn’t agree on anything when it came to Nari. And obviously we talked about things before she was born, and had a loose idea of how we wanted to raise her…” He stops for a moment to think.
“It’s just so different when they are born, like you think you know what it means to be a parent but you really don’t. Not until it’s already happened and they are in your arms and you’re searching for a daycare and coming across horror stories about the workers abusing the kids. Or thinking about how it wouldn’t be the end of the world if she doesn’t talk but also knowing how much harder her life will be if she doesn’t.”
You can feel a heaviness cloud the room. Jeongguk is so good at keeping this part of himself tucked away, good at putting on a brave face that when you look at him and see him looking down at his baby with worried, furrowed brows, your heart aches.
“And it led to a lot of really bad fights and it just got to a point where one day I decided I wouldn’t raise a baby in a home that was tumultuous.”
“What did you guys argue about?” you ask softly.
Jeongguk gives you a sad smile. “More like what didn’t we argue about. Daycare… But I’ll admit I agreed to it before she was born and then changed my mind... Her speech, how to deal with tantrums, where she slept, what she ate. I think Dasom’s too tough, she thinks I’m too soft…” he taps his fingers on Nari’s belly, “She thinks I’m part of the reason why she doesn’t talk. That because I dote on her, Nari thinks that she doesn’t need to use words so she just doesn’t.”
Your brows furrow. “Babies hit milestones at different rates, my cousin didn’t talk at all until he was three… Taking care of her isn’t hindering her development.”
“Thank you,” he says, quietly. “I think she’s starting to understand that too, as we keep getting outside opinions…”
He falls silent and you can tell he’s sad, his hand coming up to push Nari’s hair off of her forehead, the baby now sleeping, her round tummy expanding as she takes deep breaths. You feel bad, having brought the tense atmosphere on with your questions.
“Nari’s so smart, Gguk,” you say, kind of hasty, eager to make him feel better. “Like earlier I was upset, and she just knew… she’s so emotionally intelligent and has such a pure heart–”
“You were upset earlier?” Jeongguk asks, his gaze questioning as he looks at you.
Your mouth opens and closes like you’re trying to find the right words, but none will come out.
“Why were you upset?” he asks again, genuine worry on his face.
And just like a few hours ago, when you felt like Nari was asking you if you were okay; when Jeongguk asks you why you were upset, tears begin to well in your eyes.
At the sight of tearing up, Jeongguk sits up gingerly trying to not wake Nari, but also be attentive at the same time. “Hey, what’s wrong? Talk to me…”
You sit up too, looking at Jeongguk for a moment before looking down at your hands in your lap. A tear lands on your skin when you blink, and you take a deep breath before you say, “I… I heard you earlier…”
His face pulls into one of confusion. “Me and Dasom?”
Your head tilts back, and you sound exasperated when you say, “Who else?”
Jeongguk thinks for a moment, goes over what he and his ex talked about, remembers her being a bit touchy about your age, and then he thinks he gets it. His features soften as he says, “Don’t listen to her… seeing you just caught her off guard, she–”
You give a hopeless watery laugh, turning to look at him with sad eyes. “It’s not what she said, it’s what you didn’t say.”
And once again confusion takes over his features, his mind trying to comprehend how and why something he never even said could hurt you to the point of you sniffling in his bed, your eyes begging him to get it. He feels bad when he says, “I don’t understand?”
It was never in the plan for you to be the girl that’s crying about why a man did or didn’t do something– that’s never been who you are. You’ve never really cared enough to get upset, you’ve always been independent, just cutting your losses and moving on.
But with Jeongguk, cutting your losses feels a lot like cutting out part of your heart, and you don’t think you’ll make it if you do that. One can live with half their lungs, only one of their kidneys… but no one ever lasts long when part of their heart goes missing. Jeongguk has become vital to you.
“Jeongguk,” you whisper, “What are we doing?”
Maybe it’s unfair of you to ask him something like that, when you both agreed to something carefree, no strings attached. But you think that falling in love with someone is a lot like how Jeongguk described being a parent: You think you know what it means, but you really don’t. Not until it’s already happened.
Because that’s what felt different prior to opening that door and letting doubt in with the breeze. Everything felt warmer, easier, safer, better because it was laced with the realization that you love Jeongguk.
His face has fallen when you look at him, waiting for his reply. The corners of his lips are down turned, and his brows are turned up. He begins to shake his head softly, his mouth parting a few times before he’s raising his shoulders in a hopeless way.
“I– I don’t know anymore,” he whispers back.
That’s the answer you expected, but it still makes you exhale pain, like his words knock the wind out of you. It’s shaky when you catch your breath, but you nod.
“I think I should leave for tonight,” you tell him, starting to push his comforter to the side.
Jeongguk feels his heart start to race, and he reaches out for you, his hand landing on your shoulder. “What? Right now? It’s the middle of the night– don’t– it’s–”
“If you don’t want me to leave,” you interrupt him, “then we need to talk.”
His mouth snaps shut and he rolls his lips between his teeth like he’s thinking. He glances at the baby sleeping between you, and gives you a quick nod. “Yeah, okay… Just not here, I don’t want her waking up again… let me get the monitor from her room. I’ll meet you in the living room.”
Nodding wordlessly, you slip out of the room.
You’re pacing lightly, in nothing but his shirt that hits high on your thigh and a pair of panties, when Jeongguk comes out. He’s still shirtless, but he pulled on some joggers before leaving the room. One hand is pushing his hair back like he’s stressed, and the other is holding the baby monitor. He places it on the counter, and turns to you. A sad smile is offered, and you give him one back because it’s instinct.
It seems like neither of you know where to begin, both just breathing heavy in the artificial light. You take a deep breath.
“I wanted you to defend me,” you admit.
Jeongguk stays quiet, but his brows pinch.
“Or maybe like… defend us…” Embarrassment creeps into your bones.
“Defend us over what?” he asks. He doesn’t sound like he’s being dense, but like he actually doesn’t know.
Sighing, you say, “The way she talked about me, Gguk… She said I was something you needed to ‘get out of your system’... just a friend you fuck that’s disposable and unimportant and–”
“You know that’s not true,” he interjects.
“Yeah I do. Why didn’t you tell her that?” You can feel the first licks of anger in your chest, your voice coming out harsher than you intend. “Why did you let her talk about me like I’m just some stupid kid that doesn’t know what she wants? Like you don’t know what you want?”
Jeongguk thinks about it, realizes the answer is quite simple.
“Because I don’t know what I want, and I don’t think that you know what you want either.”
You look taken aback, and anger colors your features. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It means that this turned into something it was never supposed to and now we don’t know how to navigate it or what we want from each other anymore,” Jeongguk explains, trying to keep the sadness out of his voice.
It’s true and it’s not at the same time. Because Jeongguk knows what he wants, at least to some extent, but he knows he can’t have it. Meaning that if he can’t have what he wants, he doesn’t know what he wants instead of that. And he supposes he can’t speak for you, but he doesn’t correct himself, instead says, “We’re in too deep, __… I care about you.”
It doesn’t sound like much, but you know what he means… know that it’s a confession of some sort.
Tentative hope bubbles in your chest at his words, and you take a few steps closer to him. “That’s not a bad thing, I care too. We both care so we can–” you pause, and look up at him. “We can just take the next step or something, right?”
Jeongguk smiles softly, and his hands come up to cup your face and it’s warm again, and it’s safe when you’re in his palms and when he’s kissing you. Your hands come up to just hold at his wrists, eyes shutting, and it’s sweet again and–
“It’s not that simple, baby…”
–and it’s over.
“There’s something that Dasom said that’s true.”
And you know it’s childish but you shake your head in his hands and tears begin to brim. She ruined everything. She planted that seed of doubt in both your heads, and she’s the reason why Jeongguk doesn’t feel safe anymore and why his hands aren’t warm and why everything is falling apart. You squeeze your eyes shut and scrunch your brows together, a few tears spilling over. “I don’t want to talk about her,” you whisper.
He smiles, a sad curve to his lips. “I know, you don’t... But we both need to hear it… We don’t agree on a lot when it comes to Nari, but she was right when she said that thing about people coming into Nari’s life and then leaving after she gets attached. That’s not fair to Nari and it was selfish of me to let it happen.”
“How do you know I’m just going to leave?” you ask.
“Because I’m not going to let you stay,” Jeongguk whispers, his thumb wiping away the tears that have already started to flow.
Words don’t even come to you, because of how badly it hurts. And you’re doing your best to keep it as together as you can because you aren’t pathetic. You’re not going to beg him to let you stay but you want to understand why. Your voice cracks when you ask him.
“You’re too young, __. And I’m not saying that’s why I don’t think you know what you want… But I don’t think you know what being with me long term means, and what you would be missing out on… I’m not going to trap you, it’ll just lead to you resenting me,” he says gently. His hands have left your face, and he walks around a little like he’s trying to gather his thoughts. “And there’s just so much that I have to balance. I don’t know if I have room or the time–”
It feels like a slap in the face. How did everything change so quickly from this morning?
“There was room in your bed for me,” you interrupt him, bitter pain lacing your words. “You had time to fuck me.”
He winces. “You know I didn’t mean it like that,” he tells you gently, “I just meant… I think I need to think about things, reevaluate my priorities–”
It sounds a lot like what you said earlier, when you were under him, taunting him with kisses.
You hum, “I just think you need to reevaluate your priorities, maybe.”
“And what do you think my priorities should be, __?” he whispers, eyes searching your face, lingering on your lips, a fond look coloring his features.
“Well, right now,” you start, looping your arms around his neck, “I think you should really focus on that plank, and on that kiss you’re dying to give me.”
And god, you wish you could go back. Wish you could rewind and just replay everything up until the doorbell rang. But you can’t because the reality of the situation is that this was always going to end.
Jeongguk has his mind made up. The fear of you leaving him and Nari and the fear of you resenting him if you stayed are inevitable feelings that he would have realized eventually. He has priorities and if he doesn’t change the way he thinks, it won’t ever work because–
“Because I’m not one of them…” you realize quietly. He cares, but not enough.
Jeongguk’s composure breaks and it’s written all over his face, how much it hurts him to hurt you, even if it’s not intentional. “I’m sorry,” he says, and it sounds desperate like he’s yearning for you to know that he means it. “But it’s always going to be her, Nari will always be the most important thing to me.”
And you won’t beg for a place in his life, but you want him to understand.
“I’m not asking to be the most important thing in your life, that’s not what I want,” you tell him.
“What do you want?” he asks.
“I want you to understand that I just want to be with you,” you tell him.
He’s by the couch now, sitting on the armrest. His lips are pressed in a tight line, and you can see redness around his eyes from fighting tears of his own. You’re still by the counter where he left you.
“It doesn’t have to be so extreme, Gguk… It’s not like we’re getting married, we would just be taking a next step–”
“But we might, __!” he yells, before shutting his eyes roughly and taking a deep breath. His tone is softer when he continues. “Obviously I wouldn’t spring that on you, but being with me means that you have to be okay with a lot of things,” he says.  
When you ask him what kinds of things he says, “You would have to be okay with never coming first, with me cancelling on you whenever something comes up with Nari. You would have to be okay with me still having a relationship with my ex because I refuse to let my baby have parents that hate each other.”
You try to keep your face straight but he must be able to see how he’s getting into your head because he continues, almost like he’s trying to convince you it’s not worth it being with him.
“At 22 you have to be okay with potentially getting married, with being a stepmom… I know you care about Nari, but if you were to commit to me, you would have to commit to her too. There would be boundaries that me and Dasom make, and you would have to respect them. You and her would have to learn to get along.”
“You’re only 22, __,” he continues, his voice borders on whining, like he just wants you to get it. “You don’t want that. You would lose your freedom… while your friends are travelling or doing whatever, you’ll be in a relationship, tied down… I won’t do that to you, __.” He looks at you for a moment. “Maybe you want a relationship,” he amends, trying to acknowledge your feelings. “But you don’t want an instant family, it’s too much for someone so young. It’s even a lot for people my age.”
“Why does it have to be so… all or nothing?” you ask, a little desperate because it's hard to understand the way he thinks.
“I can’t think short term when I have a baby who depends on me long term,” he replies.
“Then what have we been doing this whole time?”
Jeongguk opens his hands, turns his palms up like he’s giving up. “I was selfish and I got caught up… I made a mistake.”
A mistake. Your heart breaks a little but it beats loud in your ears as you let his words sink in. It's a lot to take in, especially when you two haven’t spoken about being in a committed relationship even once before. And it's confusing because he said he cared.
“I thought you cared about me… Why does it feel like you’re trying to scare me away?” you ask him, voice hurt.
Jeongguk looks at his hands, like he can’t face you. “I do care about you, and I’m not trying to scare you,” he says quietly. “I’m just telling you a fraction of the things that you really need to think about.”
And think you do.
Do you really want all that? Was he right when he alluded to you losing more than you gain? Are you ready to get into a relationship with someone who has marriage as the end goal when you don’t even have your life figured out? Are you really mature enough to handle his relationship with his ex, when you can’t even maturely handle things with your roommates sometimes?
Would being with you be a good thing for him and Nari? Or would they be better off with someone else? Someone with goals and passions, and their life a little more figured out. Maybe someone who has a kid of her own, because she knows what it’s like already. Someone older and more mature with a good job. Someone who is nothing like you.
You didn’t even notice that you started crying, but when you come back, your eyes are blurry and your cheeks are sticky with old and new tears.
“Okay,” you say. You try to smile, but your chin is quivering. “I’ll let you know when I’ve thought through everything.”
When you go back to his room to get you things, you give Nari a tiny kiss, and you tell her that you’ll miss her. As you walk past Jeongguk to his front door, he doesn’t try to stop you this time.
You love Jeongguk, you’re sure that you do, but maybe being with him isn’t what's best. Doubt has made a home in your heart, that warmth you long for nowhere to be seen or felt.
~~~~
AYOOOOO don’t scream at me too much, that's not the end lmao but whoa... how’d they go from kissing to crying just like that hmm... also, opinions on the ex wife?? genuinely curious bc i actually dont hate her ?? 🤔 anyway, i hope you liked it, if you did please do all the things~~ please reblog, like, comment, send an ask... very curious about how we feel about this one 🙇🏻‍♀️ thanks for reading and as always i love u, sorry im posting late lol byeeee <3
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bratkook · 13 days ago
Text
switch up! (m) jjk.
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banner by @dee-ehn
pairing. bass player!jk x reader  genre. fluff, smut word count. 18k warnings. lotsa kissing, oral sex (m. & f.), sooome spit bc why not, protected sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, cockwarming?? summary. you would have never expected your shy, innocent art partner to be the man on stage covered in tattoos note. the tags are janky as fuck so if u read and enjoy, pls reblog ! let me refer you to this post of mine that birthed this hannah montana/double life jungkook. he is sweet and lowkey filthy and i love him sm & hope u will too <3, this fic is half plot and half smut to get myself back into writing filth and also to finally give jk a bassist story on my page lol, i’ve been working on this idea since january...writers block has been gnarly as fuck...so please let me know what you think of it hehe ty ilysm (also pls dont ask me for a part two, if i decide to write more for them ill let u guys know<3) taglist. @parkdatjimin , @jimilogy , @cheekychoca , @jjk301 , @marcoazz2 , @girlsforgloss , @fancycollectormoon , @aurevoir-le-bitches , @redbabie17 , @tomotae​ , @heartykoo ,
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The gentle breeze of the wind flows around you, trees rustling above, leaves fluttering down and landing on the blanket you had just meticulously spread out. The red and yellow leaves stand out against the light material, and you’re tempted to just leave them there but your desire to make this perfect has you crawling forward instantly, plucking the leaves and tossing them aside before smoothing out the fabric once more and settling back onto your butt. 
There, that’s better. 
The set up you currently had looked more like a picnic than the original drawing ‘date’ you had arranged. A wooden wicker basket was to your left, full of a variety of snacks and treats for you to munch on while you worked, your art supplies nestled to the side of it. You had almost forgotten them in your haste to leave, too excited about spending time with your art partner outside of class to remember what the actual premise of this was. It doesn’t stand out too much, the giant quad in the middle of your campus was occupied by other couples having similar picnics all around you, so hopefully you can pass this off as no big deal. 
Jungkook definitely doesn’t mind it though. When he approaches the set up you have, dark bag slung over his shoulder and his arms tucked into the pockets of his coat, he smiles as he sees you fidgeting with the edges of the blanket that flutter up with the wind. There's a small pep in his step as he gets closer, the small jitters he always felt while around you creeping up his spine and mixing with excitement. It's the same cocktail of emotions he has swirling in his gut anytime you were near. 
The crunching of leaves grabs your attention, looking up as you rest your bag on a corner to prevent it from flying up again. He eyes the curve of your legs peeking out underneath the plaid skirt you wear, covered in sheer black tights in an attempt to shield yourself from the cooler weather. A blush dusts his cheeks when he meets your gaze and realizes he’s been caught gawking at you like he normally does. 
The smile on your lips as you wave him over only makes him hurry up, taking longer strides until the chunky black shoes on his feet are sticking out against the creme colored blanket. 
“Sorry, am I late?” he wonders, lowering his bag beside yours before slowly sitting down. His all black ensemble swallows him up, the only form fitting article being the turtle neck peeking through his coat. When he adjusts his glasses, looking up at you with a small grimace, you snap out of it and clear your throat. 
“No, I got here a little earlier to set this all up.” You reach for the wicker basket, flipping it open and sliding it in between you so he could get a glimpse of what was inside. “I hope you like peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.”
Jungkook smiles down at the basket before locking eyes with you once more. “I love them actually. Thanks.” His fidgety hands waste no time pulling out his art supplies, not knowing how to sit in comfortable silence with you beside him, needing to occupy himself to not say anything without thinking. His mind was always whirling whenever you were within close proximity, it was a miracle he could get work done in class with you inches from him. 
You recognize the nervous ticks he has, how his fingers twirl the pencil in his hand as he flips open his sketch pad, how his eyes bounce from your knees back to the paper—too nervous to look up at you again. His toffee brown strands fall over his brows, tips of them resting on the rim of his glasses as they slide down his nose, his finger coming up to push them back up with a scrunch. It’s adorable—he’s adorable—in that sweet boy next door kind of way. 
His soft spoken demeanor and gentle smile was the first thing you noticed months ago when the semester had just started, mentally cheering yourself on for choosing to sit beside him and becoming self proclaimed partners. Jungkook was definitely artistically gifted, not once complaining when you’d lean over to his side and awe at his work, trying to hide his bashful smile as he shrugged off your praise. It was the main reason you weren’t shy to compliment his art, or his outfits, or him in general, just wanting to see the cute way his nose scrunches up and his lips curl into a grin. 
“You look cute and cozy,” you breathe out, staring right at him and smiling when his eyes peer up at you through his glasses. Jungkook has since learned to not expect you to look away, you were far too comfortable with yourself to be embarrassed or bashful. Instead, you continue to give him a once over, small smile on your face when his cheeks blush slightly in a way that can’t be attributed to the cool breeze. 
You can already tell his mind is trying to unscramble a response to your casual compliment but you save him from it with a small sigh, your eyes falling onto his sketch pad instead. “So, how do you want me?”
Jungkook can’t hide his look of shock, his own thoughts taking over before he realizes what you truly meant. His fingers grip the edges of his sketchpad as he clears his throat, smoothing over the paper and looking up at how you were positioned. “Like that’s fine, but however you’re comfortable. I’ll try to work fast so you’re not stuck in this position for long.”
You merely shrug at his comment, delicately placing your hands on your knees and readjusting your legs to the side. “Honestly take your time. I know it’ll look amazing.”
“Yeah, thanks to you,” he mumbles quietly, a sheepish smile on his lips that only makes you smile widely in return. He quickly tries to deflect it by reaching for his pencil and beginning the sketch but you’re having none of that. 
“Was that your way of saying I look amazing?” Your voice is soft, a small fluttering in your stomach at his compliment. Throughout the weeks of knowing each other, in between your harmless flirting, Jungkook had only had the courage to reciprocate it a few times. Each time he did, whether it was saying your hair looked pretty, or you smelled nice, it stuck with you and continued to fuel the gentle crush you have. 
“You always look amazing,” he adds, eyes focused on the light strokes of his pencil, outlining your silhouette in the exact position you were in. Jungkook knew the second you set your sights on him you’d push his train of thought right off the tracks every time you spoke to him, turning him into the shy, stuttering boy he was in highschool. 
He’s grateful that you never push it too far, not knowing if he’d be able to keep up the teasing and compliments while attempting to focus on the project at the same time. Instead you try your best to fight back the smile on your lips, not wanting to mess up what he was currently drawing. 
It really didn’t matter to you how long this took, you’d be more than happy to sit here for hours if it meant you’d be able to have his full attention. It gives you all the time in the world to admire your view, your eyes tracing down the slope of his nose, the outline of his lips when he purses them in concentration, the fluttering of his lashes as his eyes bounce up from the page to glance at you before looking back down to capture any detail he might have missed. 
Jungkook is a silent worker, his style of choice relying too much on intricacy and detail to allow him to focus on anything else. His hands move smoothly across the page, the gentle scraping of his pencil blending in with the rustling of leaves and soft hums he’d let out as he analyzes his work. It’s only when he finishes the general sketch of your face that he looks up at you fully, a proud smile on his lips as he holds up the sketchpad for you to see the progress. 
“Okay, you’re free to talk now.” He must have sensed your desire to spark a conversation, knowing fully well how chatty you were on a daily basis. Jungkook enjoys it though, finding the random questions you’d ask or the simple stories you’d tell him very endearing. Everytime he spoke to you felt like he was flipping the page into another chapter of your life, knowing just a little bit more about you in a way that left him eagerly anticipating the next. 
“Oh that looks amazing already,” you gasp, inching forward a bit to get a better look. It was the bare bones of what would be another one of his masterpieces but what he currently had was still enough to leave you in awe. 
“I still need to add all the heavy details and shading but we’d probably be stuck here all night if I did it now.” 
“We have until next week to turn this in so we can always meet up again in between classes to finish up anything.” The eagerness laced in your words makes him smile, the thought of seeing you once again before today’s date was even over leaving him just as giddy. A shy nod in confirmation is all he gives you before he’s jumping back into the drawing. 
This time however you don’t sit in silence, able to chat away now that the attention was off your face. It lets the time fly by, giggling together as you casually bring up the fact that the campus goose had chased you down earlier and you’d have to find a new route down here because the experience had been slightly traumatic. Your favorite moment however was munching on the sandwiches you brought and carefully feeding him some so his messy fingers wouldn’t ruin his work, his eyes crinkling up in thanks after every bite. 
His boyish laugh makes your cheeks hurt from smiling, something he takes note of as he looks up at you fondly, eyes locking together for a brief moment before the vibration of your phone grabs your attention. It buzzes against your leg, a slew of messages coming in from your best friend, all in varying degrees of distress as she contemplates her outfit choices for tonight. That's when you take note of the time, realizing you were supposed to be on your way to her place already. A quick response saying you’d be there soon is all you send before locking the device entirely. 
“Are you busy tomorrow?” you wonder, peering over to see how much more he had finished of his drawing. 
“I’m free in the morning. Why? Do you have to leave right now?” His doe eyes stare at you in curiosity, twirling the pencil in his grasp while you inch even closer to admire his work once more. He can smell your perfume, the earthy scent of amber warming him up, it reminds him of a rainstorm and he tries his best not to not make it obvious how much he enjoys your close proximity. 
“Yeah, I didn’t realize what time it was. I’m supposed to meet up with a friend right now, but we can finish up our drawings tomorrow.” 
Jungkook fishes his own phone out of his pocket, the bright white numbers letting him know he was also running late to his plans, quickly packing up his supplies as he nods his head. “Do you want to meet here again?”
Despite his rush, he helps you fold up your blanket as you pack up the rest of your things as well, gently tucking it into the wicker basket you brought and handing it over with a cute smile. 
“Yeah, just text me what time and I’ll be here. Bye Jungkook,” you sing out, wrapping an arm around him in a swift hug that makes his heart skip. His own arms envelop you easily, squeezing you tight before pulling away, the two of you going your separate ways with excitement weighing heavy in your chest.
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“He sounds geeky,” Chungha jokes when you finally bring him up to her later that night, your turtleneck, glasses wearing, art loving description painting him in a nerdy light that was very much Jungkook. 
“Shut up, he’s nice.”
“That's always code for ugly.”
You roll your eyes at her jab, but it’s not like she sees it, too focused on lining her lips as she stares at herself in the mirror. A huff escapes you as you fall back onto her bed, arms spread out and your heart still feeling light from the time spent with him. Your lips roll together as you hold in the small squeal you want to release when you remember the way his cheeks had bulged out while you fed him the sandwich, how his tongue would peek out to swipe at any of the jelly on his lips. Jeon Jungkook was the definition of cute, Chungha had no idea what she was talking about. 
“He’s actually really cute Chungha,” you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest as you sit back up, watching as she fluffs her hair out before turning to look at you with an unconvinced stare. 
“Yeah, I’m sure he’s adorable. Hurry up and put some lip gloss on or something.” She reaches forward, grabbing a tube of gloss and tossing it at you with a chuckle. 
“Where are you dragging me to tonight?” you wonder, hauling yourself up to approach her brightly lit mirror. She has a prideful smile on her wine colored lips when she sees you doing exactly what she said, shooting you a thumbs up when you set the lipgloss into your bag once complete. 
“This club downtown. Cherin told me they play good music, and I’m in the mood to dance and make questionable decisions with cute boys.” You know she’s being serious too, the mischievous glint in her eyes and the way she adjusts her boobs in her top show you that much. When her finger comes up to poke at your own boobs you gasp and swat her hand away, cupping your tits with a glare. “Bring the girls out!”
“No, this top is cute.” She pokes at them once more, an evil laugh filling the air when you lift up your shirt to cover the small bit of cleavage showing. Thanks to your poor time management skills, it's the same outfit you wore earlier with Jungkook. Perfect for a cute day time drawing date, apparently not perfect for Chungha’s nightly activities. 
“At least take the tights off to show some skin.” She claps when you grumble under your breath as you once again do what she says, toeing off your heeled shoes and yanking the sheer material off your legs, balling it up before tossing it at her face. 
“Happy?”
“Partially, but I’ll manage. C’mon let’s go.” You know she desperately wants to force you to wear something a tad more revealing but she bites her tongue, keeping any more comments to herself the entire way to the club. And once you step into the crowded space, she’s too focused on trying to score free drinks to even think of saying anything else. 
You follow close behind her, eyes scanning the interior, trying to make everything out in the dim lighting. This isn’t like the usual places you go to on your nights out, the atmosphere differs greatly from the typical clubs where the bass was heavy and the flashing lights were blinding. Instead a stage was placed in the far end, low to the ground with a good crowd of people surrounding it as a group in rhinestone covered shirts played music. Suddenly, you’re grateful you had kept your earlier outfit on, the atmosphere in here being more laid back than you had anticipated. 
“Did Cherin tell you this was a music venue?” you speak into Chungha’s ear with a laugh, grabbing the shot glass she passes your way. The boy beside her looks a little offended when she completely turns away from him to talk to you, deeming him unnecessary after he bought you both drinks. 
“No, but I like the vibe. Plus, look around, there's plenty of options for you to choose from.” Her elbow nudges into your side obnoxiously before she throws back her shot, eyes screwed up as she makes a face at the taste. You mimic her actions, licking your lips as you look around at all of the options you apparently have. The two of you were pros at this, jumping from club to club, getting free drinks and a handful of new numbers added to your phone before the night was over and you were taking someone home. It’s what you did best, it was harmless fun that made for great stories, but as you analyze the crowd around you, no one catches your eye, your flirtatious abilities having been drained after the day spent with Jungkook. The only thing you want to do tonight is loosen up and enjoy the music filling the space up. 
“Go work your magic and get us more drinks,” you deflect her suggestion, laughing when her eyes switch back over to predator mode as she searches for the next sucker to buy her alcohol. 
You’ve learned a long time ago to never underestimate your best friend’s ability to get what she wants, only further proven when she manages to get you comfortably buzzed without ever taking her wallet out. By now the crowd of people have begun to move around as the band starts to play covers of popular songs, you and Chungha nestled in between them as you dance along to the music. It's a mess of limbs and raspy voices as a huddle of drunk girls joins you both, horribly singing along to the 80’s pop cover filling up the space. 
It’s not until she sneaks away once more to grab yet another drink that your bladder finally throws up a white flag in surrender for you to take a break. The pout on her face makes you giggle as you slowly leave her in her spot, sliding between people and following the glowing neon sign that leads you to the bathroom. Stumbling into the surprisingly vacant restroom and into a stall has you realizing you’re a little past buzzed. The checkered floor seems to fuzz together and the dark green stall doors begin to sway as you rest your elbows on your thighs and laugh to yourself. 
“Oh god,” you groan with a smile, rubbing your cheeks with your cold fingers. “No more drinks.” It’s honestly in your best interest, you and Jungkook were set to get together tomorrow morning to finish up your projects and there's no way you could allow a hangover to put a damper on it. 
With a lot of fumbling, you exit from the stall, catching sight of your reflection on the mirror above the sinks. The gloss coating your lips has long since wiped off on the glass of the drinks Chungha was feeding you, and that just wouldn’t do. Reaching into your side bag, you pull out the cherry scented gloss you had swiped from your best friend's counter, uncapping it and giving your lips a generous swipe before deeming yourself ready to re-enter the scene outside the bathroom doors. 
“What took you so long?” Chungha groans, manicured hand gripping your arm as she pulls you back into the crowd of people. “You almost missed the babes on stage.”
“Babes?” you snort. “I don’t think the men in bedazzled shirts count as babes.”
“Not them! Them.” She points up at the stage now, your eyes following her finger and spotting the new group that had taken over, just barely setting themselves up. The dreamy sound of her voice has you turning back at her before you get a good look at the members, gripping her cheeks to get her to look at you instead of drooling over them. 
“Nuh uh, you made me promise to never let you mess around with any band guys again after the last one!”
“But c’mon, look at them. The lead singer looks like he can slap me and call me a good girl.” That compels you to take a look for yourself, spotting the man gripping the microphone as he smiled into the crowd, a black striped shirt loosely buttoned down his chest. He was totally her type, which meant you had to drag her out of here asap before she was somehow shimmying her way to the front and tossing her bra at him. 
“I gotta get to the front. Its fate,” she announces, already attempting to slip her way past the tightly packed crowd. 
“That’s not fate, Chungha,” you laugh, gripping her arm tighter to prevent her from moving. The last time Chungha had gotten involved with a self proclaimed rockstar she went on a downward spiral and was fully convinced she needed to shave her hair, so really you’re doing her a favor here. 
“Why not?” she huffs, eyes squinting up at the stage to see the rest of the members. “Take your pick of the rest of the band, the drummer’s cute!” 
A quick glance lets you see the bright orange haired man sitting behind the drums, twirling the sticks around with a giant smile as he spoke to the singer. He was cute, but not enough for you to aid your best friend on her quest. “Not my type.” 
“Fine. The guitarist has big hands, I know your ass likes that.” The man stood to the right had a dangerously unbuttoned shirt just barely clinging on, long black hair framing his face perfectly. But the sharp look in his eyes as he scans the crowd makes you avert your sight immediately. 
“I’m pretty sure he would ruin my life, like instantly.” 
“What about the bass player?” She continues on, going down her list until hopefully one of them sticks enough for you to loosen your grip on her arm. 
“Oh my god Chungha, drop it,” you scoff, but your curiosity has already been piqued, wondering if he was just as attractive as the other members. The man in question has his back to the crowd now as he adjusts the straps of his bass before beginning to fiddle with the instrument. 
As he wanders to the left side of the stage your eyes follow him, dark strands of hair covering his face as he stares down at his fingers. Thick silver chains hang off his wrist, veiny hands curling around the neck of his bass, bold lines of ink trailing up from the silver bracelets before getting cut off by the cuffed sleeve of his dark patterned button up. 
He was definitely your type. 
And as you follow the trail up his arms, to the chains around his neck, tracing the dark lines that barely touch the edge of his throat, and the soft curve of his lips when he finally looks up, you can’t help but feel like he looks oddly familiar. Until suddenly, the similarities are a little too strong to chalk up to pure coincidence. 
“Oh my god,” you whisper out, blinking harshly when you don’t believe your eyes. Maybe it was the alcohol sloshing in your stomach and making your vision all wonky, but the man who has the bass hanging low on his hips looks far too much like your art partner. The similar shade of brown hair on his head is swooped back instead of covering his forehead the way it always did, but that adorable bucktooth smile you had a soft spot for is the clear indicator that it was him. If that didn’t tell you as much, the wide doe eyed look on his face as he faces the crowd is the giant sign that lets you know Jeon Jungkook from art class has a double life. 
Did he really have a double life? Not likely. But the stark contrast in his appearance had you thinking this was some Hannah Montana moment and you would have to take this secret to the grave. 
“Oh you liked the bassist huh?” Chungha cackles, success coursing through her veins when she realizes she might get her chance tonight. 
Okay maybe you could tell Chungha the secret too. 
“Shut up, that's him!”
“Who?” 
“Jungkook, the geek from my art class.” When she snorts in disbelief you slap her arm with force, ignoring her wince of pain. “On bass, the one covered in tattoos.”
“Oh shut the hell up.”
“I’m serious,” you whine.
“You said he was cute, not fucking sexy! He’s in a band?!” she shouts in a fit, ready to bombard you with questions before you cut her off with a plea. 
“We gotta go, I’m not sober enough to not make a fool out of myself in front of him.” Put Jungkook beside you in class, with his turtleneck and glasses, and you could flirt with him until his cheeks were red. But put him on stage where he's glowing, covered in ink, with an aura of confidence surrounding him, and you will go down way too fast for your dignity to survive. 
“What no, why?”
“Because—“
“Because what? You already told me you think he’s cute, how he gets all nervous around you, and now that you see him up there looking all fucking glorious you wanna run? No, babe this is fate.”
“This is not fate!” 
It’s uncharacteristically chicken for you to want to scram before you’re spotted, almost as if you were doing something you should be ashamed of instead of just enjoying a night out with your best friend. But your mind could not get itself out of the gutter, and all your thoughts were scrambled together to form some lewd visual of your cute art partner—who was currently chugging water like his life depended on it—spitting that exact water onto you. You had to go. Now. 
“You know the band, so I have a way in. Seems like fate to me.” Chungha sports a sly smile on her face, eyebrows wiggling at you as she tries to pry your hand off her arm a final time, giggling when you loosen your grip. 
“Oh you bitch, you’re pushing this for your own benefit.”
“Of course I am, but who are we to deny fate. Now we gotta get closer so you can get his attention and go fuck him in the bathroom!” 
You have absolutely no intention of fucking your art partner in the bathroom of this venue, but this version of Jungkook on the stage has you second guessing yourself. That’s not something you admit to Chungha though, because she will hold on to that and use it to guide every reckless decision she chooses to make tonight. Instead, you allow her to shimmy her way to the front with her free hand clasped to yours, no apologies sent to the girls she shoves out of the way. 
The band must have a good name for themselves judging by the people surrounding you, popular in this scene of music because the second the drums kickstart the first song everyone surges forward and screams in excitement. Chungha doesn’t care that she doesn’t know a single song, her eyes peering right up at the singer, just wishing and waiting for the right interaction to hook him. You were doing a slightly better attempt at pretending like you knew the music, bobbing your head along to the beat, but your own eyes were locked onto Jungkook. 
The loose fabric of his shirt flows around as he plays, slightly falling off his shoulder and revealing more of his tattoos to you, only making your brain short circuit some more. Why was it so hard for your mind to morph the cute and bashful Jungkook you were with earlier with the one you were currently staring at. This definitely had to be a sick dream, or maybe you were blackout drunk still in the bathroom stall you had walked into earlier. That had to be the only explanation to this. 
It’s something you believe, and sort of make peace with, until Jungkook scans the crowd with a smile and his eyes land on you. It’s a brief second before he moves on, but then the realization hits him and he’s double taking, the smile never leaving his face while he tries to make out that it's really you underneath the occasional flash of light. There’s a curious tilt to his head, his fingers never missing their spot on his instrument as the band goes through their songs, but he edges closer. 
He doesn’t look off put at seeing you—which makes you feel less guilty about discovering his double life—instead he looks proud, the twinkle in his eye sparkling when you finally smile back at him. That small interaction is just one of many, his eyes naturally gravitating to you throughout the set, almost as if he was double checking that you were actually there and weren’t just a figment of his imagination. 
As the band takes their first break, the singer panting into the microphone as he scans the crowd with a smile, Jungkook crouches down to grab his water. Your eyes are glued to him as he throws his head back and tilts the bottle, letting the liquid pour into his open mouth before he’s capping it once more, long fingers swiping at his lips to catch the stray drops. 
“It’s always nice to see a full house here On the Rox.” The crowd cheers at that, Chungha doing the most as she screams louder, successfully catching his attention as his eyes drop down to her. Your hands have to clasp around her shoulders to prevent her knees from giving out on her as he smirks. “I see a lot of pretty faces here tonight.”
Damn Chungha and her love of fate. 
“A lot of new faces here too,” another voice cuts into the space, and you recognize this one. Your eyes gravitate towards the left side of stage once more, locking onto Jungkook’s stare as he smiles at you before looking at the rest of the crowd. “If this is your first time seeing us tonight, I hope you enjoy it.”
“And if you’ve seen us before, make sure you give the newcomers some love.” The guitarist speaks now, his wavy black hair being raked off his face as he runs his fingers through it. The pick in his hand glides across his guitar with ease, a random chord playing through the speakers. “We got a couple songs left, are you ready?” 
The crowd cheers in response, Jungkook chuckling into the mic as he grips it, the silver chains dangling off his wrist. “You can do better than that. Are you ready?” His voice is strong, booming through the amps and getting the reaction they craved, everyone screaming as loud as they could. His lips spread out into a proud smile, and it’s impossible to look away from him. You’d never seen him like this before, but you can’t deny that confidence suits him, bathes him in this light that has your palms going clammy as he stares at you again. 
The sound of the next song rolling through barely registers within you as you snap out of it, pressing your forehead against your friend to collect yourself slightly before you’re able to look back up. It’s a blur of sounds and lights as their set progresses, you and Chungha loosening up enough to move around with the crowd as they play with their hearts. Jungkook continues to creep closer to you, never close enough to make it obvious but it makes your heart race each time he inched forward before wandering to the opposite side to interact with the crowd. 
You don’t even realize it’s coming to an end until the last note fades out and the lights dim, the low lighting in the place just barely showing you their silhouettes as they make their way off the stage. Chungha’s sighing dramatically the second the lights come back up, turning around to face you now that her eye candy was missing. 
“God they’re hot and talented. Do you have his number?” 
“Yeah, I do,” you mumble out, still in a daze as you slowly make your way through the huddle of people, eagerly anticipating the next group to take over and keep the party going. You needed a drink, maybe some water to quench the thirst you had growing inside of you. 
“Text him then, let him know you’re here.”
Jungkook definitely knew you were here, but maybe texting him wouldn’t be so bad. As you both get to the bar, Chungha ordering some water while you pull your phone out, someone settles in beside you in a haste. You don’t notice them at first, their palm resting on the bar top inches away from you, but when they tap their finger onto your shoulder they grab your attention. A quick glance to the side has you locking your phone instantly, forgetting the half written text meant to be sent to the man beside you. 
“Jungkook,” you breathe out, eyes wide and mouth drying up. Seeing him this close like that was so much harder than it was on stage. He’s still catching his breath from playing, ordering himself water to cool down. The tips of his hair have curled up, raked away from his face as he swipes it back, but when his nose scrunches up into a smile it brings you back to the earlier date today and the way he’d laugh at your stories. 
“I knew that was you, I just had to come make sure.” Jungkook chuckles, looking down at you with crinkled eyes. It's the first time you’ve seen him without his signature frames on, their absence opens up his face more, and you find yourself not able to maintain the normal eye contact you have with him without them on. 
“I was just about to text you to make sure you didn’t have a twin or something,” you laugh, hands fidgeting on the countertop, reaching for your water and taking a gulp. Chungha gently nudges your side, not able to contain herself as she sips her own water, trying her best to not look like she's eavesdropping. 
“No, I definitely don’t.” His voice blends in with the starting music of the next group that takes the stage. “We play On the Rox pretty often. I didn’t know you came here.”
“It’s my first time here actually. Our friend told us about this place.” You point at Chungha, holding in a laugh when she quickly inserts herself into the conversation, reaching her arm across to greet Jungkook with a handshake and a charming smile. 
“Hi, I’m Chungha. Is your lead singer single by any chance?” A snort escapes you at how forward she is, your hand coming up to cover the growing smile on your face when you notice the way Jungkook’s eyes widen at how unexpected her question is. 
He recovers quickly with a small laugh, his eyes looking over the both of you to scan the room, trying to find the blonde man in question. Jungkook spots him easily, waving him over with a knowing smile. “He is actually.”
“Score,” Chungha whispers low enough for you to hear, fluffing up her hair and adjusting her tits in her shirt before her eye candy approaches, the both of you turning around to face him. 
“Hey Yoongi, just wanted to introduce you to some people.” Jungkook rests his hand on your shoulder gently as he speaks to the singer, a soft smile on his face as he stands close. “This is Y/N.”
At the mention of your name Yoongi’s smile widens, his eyes looking up at Jungkook for a moment before locking onto you as he extends his hand out in greeting. “So you’re Y/N. Glad he finally invited you to a show.”
Jungkook clears his throat loudly, the two of them having a mental conversation that leaves Yoongi looking a little sheepish as he presses his lips together. It doesn’t take much guessing to know that he said something he shouldn’t have, exposing the fact that Jungkook obviously talked about you enough to have his friends hassle him into inviting you to a show. 
You hold back any teasing comment you might have as you nod along, barely able to say that it was nice to meet him before Chungha was swooping in for the kill and introducing herself. “Can I buy you a drink?”
Kim Chungha buying someone a drink, with her own money? She was down bad. 
With Yoongi’s attention gravitating towards your friend, it leaves you and Jungkook seemingly alone. His hand still rests on your shoulder, something he seems to realize as he slowly slides it down your arm before it comes to rest by his side. You grow to miss his touch instantly, subtly stepping a bit closer to him to close the small distance until your arm is gently pressed against his own.  
Jungkook smiles as he stares at you, noticing the uncharacteristically shy smile on your lips, how you can’t maintain eye contact, choosing to trace the petals crawling up his shoulder towards his neck instead. For the first time, he feels like he has the upper hand and he takes slight advantage of it, slyly tugging at his shirt to expose more of the tattoos he had somehow managed to keep under wraps this whole time, enjoying the way your lips press together as you avert your gaze when you know you’ve been caught staring. 
“Do you want a drink?” Jungkook breaks the silence, leaning back onto the bar top. 
“No, I'm trying to sober up, I don’t want a hangover tomorrow morning,” you laugh out, pressing your palm to your warming cheeks as you smile. If you added more alcohol to your system you could only imagine what your unfiltered self would blurt out in front of him. Your slightly buzzed self was already struggling to keep yourself together around him, you know all it would take was another shot for you to bring up how good he looked all sweaty on stage. 
“Were you guys planning on staying here all night?” he wonders, absentmindedly playing with the thick chains around his wrist. 
At his question you glance over at your friend and hum, seeing her and Yoongi huddled close as they spoke. The plan of action was usually hopping around clubs and bars until one stuck, but judging by the way she’s playing with the singer’s hair, it's safe to say she wouldn’t be going anywhere without him tonight. 
“We were but I think Yoongi hooked her already,” you chuckle, setting down your empty glass with a smile. “Do you usually stay here all night after you play?”
“Sometimes, but for the most part I end up at the convenience store down the street to stuff my face with ramen.”
“Oh that sounds good,” you hum, hands coming to pat at your stomach as you smile. The thought of slurping down warm ramen at the end of the night was enough to excite you, add Jungkook to the mix and it would be the perfect scenario to wrap up your night. 
“Do you wanna go, or do you think your friend will miss you?” he jokes, flicking his head in her direction, a smirk spreading on his face when he sees the way Yoongi’s staring at Chungha. 
“Definitely not. I’ll bet you a packet of cosmic brownies that she won’t even notice if I leave right now.” 
Jungkook does in fact get you a packet of cosmic brownies the minute you step into the convenience store, the two of you able to leave and walk all the way here without Chungha sending you a frazzled text. You know she’ll be beyond occupied with Yoongi until tomorrow morning, but Jungkook was good company so you’re not exactly opposed to the direction this night has gone in. In all honesty, being across from him as he slurps up steaming ramen, sitting on squeaky plastic chairs, illuminated by the light that filters out of the window a few feet away, beats stumbling drunk from bar to bar—for tonight at least. 
“It’s kind of alarming that neither of our friends noticed we left,” Jungkook laughs, wiping his mouth with a napkin before he's scooping up more noodles. 
You join in with his laughter, finally deeming your own noodles ready, opening up the flap to let all the steam billow out into the cool night. “Yeah, I’m gonna turn this into a life lesson for her tomorrow, but I'll let her enjoy her night.”
Jungkook hums suddenly as his phone vibrates on the table, eyes narrowing slightly as he reads the message he just recieved, his lips pulling into a smile until he’s laughing again and shaking his head. “My other bandmates just noticed my disappearing act, but only because I left before we packed up our things.”
“Oh,” you sit up straighter, “do you need to head back to help them?” You’re already gathering your things, ready to abandon your warm meal to leave. It’s not until Jungkook reaches across the table, his large palm coming to rest over your own, that you come to a pause, curious eyes looking at him and seeing the spark of humor written on his features. 
“No, it's fine. Taehyung, our guitarist, owes me for the amount of times I’ve loaded up his gear. They’ll be okay without me.” His voice is laced with reassurance, the weight of his hand lingering on top of yours for a moment longer. A smile spreads on his face as you turn your hand over in his grasp to gently wrap your fingers around his palm, thumb softly running over his knuckles before pulling away to allow yourself to eat your meal once more. 
“So, when did you guys start this band?” you ask with a small clear of your throat, leaning closer over the table to scoop some noodles into your mouth. Jungkook chuckles as you slurp them up, quickly sliding over a napkin when he spots the lingering noodle on the corner of your mouth. 
“They started the group a few years ago but I didn’t join until last year. I was roommates with Yoongi at the time and their original bass player quit so I filled in for a few shows as a favor until they found a replacement.” He stops for a moment to slurp up his own noodles, eyes staring off into the empty street as he chews before they fall onto you again, seeing the look of endearment clear on your face. “I never really wanted to be in a band, but once I joined them on stage and got to feel the rush of playing somewhere other than my bedroom, I was hooked.”
“So did they even try to find a replacement or was that just their way of luring you in?” 
Jungkook playfully scoffs at that, tongue prodding at his cheek as he straightens up in his seat, eyebrows cocking up in a way that makes you giggle. “My raw talent was all they needed to see for them to forget about trying to get a replacement.” He can barely finish his sentence before he’s laughing, the small burst of confidence morphing into the same bashfulness he’d have when you’d gush over his art pieces. The small slivers of his personality, the one you’re familiar with, help ease your silly nerves from earlier, replacing the jitters of the unknown with the airy feeling that came from being around him. 
“I mean, am I wrong? We have to be sort of talented if you actually stayed and watched.”
“Can I be honest?” you mumble out, a wry smile on your face that instantly makes his expression drop. 
“Oh god, did we really suck?”
“No!” you laugh, cheeks warming up when you see the way he’s looking at you, eyes wide with worry. “You guys were great, honestly, but I sort of panicked when I saw you up there and almost left before you could spot me.”
His laugh fills the air now, teasing and playful, not being able to fathom you doing that. “What, why?”
Without the earlier alcohol clouding your thinking, you’re able to feel the tinge of embarrassment creep up on you. Jungkook only laughs louder when you pick up your chopsticks and try to hide your shame by stuffing your face with more noodles. It doesn’t work, he’s as patient as ever as he sits back with his arms crossed, staring you down until you have no choice but to give him an answer. 
“Look, I was a little tipsy so when I saw you on stage looking like that, I kinda just chickened out and wanted to leave because I thought I would embarrass myself if you saw me.” 
Jungkook is a little too humble to know what you mean, not realizing that seeing him on stage in all his glory compared to the version of him you were used to had given you whiplash. He also can’t imagine a situation where you’d be the one embarrassing yourself, the amount of times he’s been caught in the act of admiring you, having your voice snap him out of his daydreams was enough to make him nervous about being around you. But you being on the opposite end wasn’t even a thought for him. 
“Is that why you’ve been acting like this?” A smile tugs on his lips when you look down at your empty bowl, no longer able to use your food as a distraction. He finds it endearing, deciding to pick up one of the steamed bun cakes he got and passes it your way, a soft smile pushing out his doughy cheeks when you accept it. 
“Like what?” You’re feigning ignorance now, hating that he had been able to detect your change, no matter how small. 
“Quiet, looking all shy. I’m used to being the flustered one,” he admits, recalling all the moments he would stumble over his words. The way you couldn’t make eye contact earlier, how wide your eyes were when he approached you at the bar, it seemed like your brain was fumbling as you tried to respond to him. It’s a stark contrast to the way you’d interact with him in class, confident gaze never failing in making his heart stutter in his chest. The tables have turned slightly, evening out the playing field because he can see the effect he has on you so clearly now. “Who knew all it would take was me holding a bass to have you switch up on me.”
“It’s not you playing the bass that got me like this,” you chuckle, smiling when he takes a bite of his bun, one side of his cheek bulging as he chews it. “I was just a little surprised by all of this.” Your hand motions to his arms and neck, giggling when he extends both arms out and flips them over like he has no idea what you’re talking about, playful frown on his lips when he stares at the dark ink on his arms. 
“These? They’re temporary tattoos, don’t let them fool you. I did them right before the show so they’d look fresh.” He’s full of shit, you can tell by the way he rubs his arms, the ink settled into skin, no sheen or obscene brightness that came with fake tattoos. The smirk he wears doesn’t let you believe it for a second, his hand coming up to tug at his shirt like he had earlier, sneakily showing you the tattoo you had seen crawling up his neck, being able to make out the lines more clearly outside of the dim club. 
“Oh really?” you laugh, nudging his leg under the table with your foot as he snickers, nose scrunched up while he adjusts his shirt once more and settles his arms on the table. He reaches across to give your curious eyes a better view, palms outstretched until his fingers meet yours. A small shiver racks his body as your fingers trace along his skin, eyes looking up at him for permission, and when he softly nods you slowly inch up past his wrist to make out the art on his body. Each piece is connected, woven into the next so intricately you could tell he had properly planned it out. Whether they had meaning or not, it was clear Jungkook had put a lot of thought behind it all. The proud smile on his lips never falls as you make your way up his arm, tracing flower petals, the intricate scales of a snake, the billowing clouds that get cut off when his shirt sleeve tightens around his arm too much for you to push up. 
“Why do you hide them?” you question softly, feeling the need to whisper as you continue to analyze the art of his other arm, the continuity of his previous sleeve was missing here, each piece being its individual work of art instead of telling a story, thick lines of traditional flash being easier to trace with your finger. 
Jungkook visibly shivers as you pass his elbow ditch, moving on to the reaper he had on his forearm. “I don’t hide them on purpose,” he mumbles, growing to enjoy the slight ticklish feeling of your fingers on his skin, hoping you continue to admire his tattoos to keep the contact with you. “I only ever wear short sleeve shirts during the summer, or on stage because it gets hot up there. But the weather has been cold lately and I enjoy layering up. I promise I’m not trying to disguise myself.”
That much was true, Jungkook was always wearing hoodies or oversized long sleeves that concealed his arms and considering the tattoo on his neck was barely creeping over his collar it’s not a shock you never noticed it before. 
“Are you sure? Seems like you’re trying to live a double life to me. I kinda dig it tho,” you giggle, smiling when he looks over at you with raised eyebrows, a spark evident in his eyes as he perks up. You’re fiddling with his bracelet now, slowly making your way down to his palms when Jungkook lifts them up and intertwines your fingers together. 
“Oh yeah?” His smile widens when you give his palm a gentle squeeze, the warmth of his skin making your stomach flip as you stare into his eyes. 
“Yeah,” you sigh. “Adorable artist by day, sexy rockstar by night.”
“I’m not a rockstar,” he snorts, his thumb softly rubbing your knuckles. 
“But you agree, you think you’re sexy?” And there it was, the familiar words and confident gaze Jungkook was accustomed to seeing from you. You inch closer, head tilted slightly with a teasing smile on your lips, playfulness written all over your features. 
“I thought I was cute,” he shoots back, eyes crinkling as he recalls all the times you’d call him that, playfully pinching the strands of his hair in class when they’d cover his eyes, muttering the compliment each time he’d smile at you, just loud enough for him to hear and blush at but you had yet to call him sexy until tonight. 
“You’re both, it’s the best of both worlds.”
“I’ll take it,” he laughs, wanting to get even closer to you, scooch his chair over or flip the table out of the way entirely but he decides that's a little too much, content sitting here despite the dropping temperature. The chill of autumn is more noticeable now as you sit here, no longer warmed up by the meal you had earlier, it's evident in the goosebumps that trail up Jungkook’s arms and the shiver you release with a small laugh. 
“Do you live far from here?” It’s an innocent question in theory, exactly the way Jungkook takes it as he shakes his head in response. 
“No, my place is pretty close actually. Do you?”
“I don’t live too far either. If you want, we can walk to mine or take a taxi if you’re too cold.”
“I don’t mind walking you home.” He smiles and you can’t find it in yourself to be upset that he hadn’t caught on to the fact that you were inviting him over. You wanted to spend more time with him, preferably outside of the cold, but the additional minutes spent on your walk would be good enough until you could see him tomorrow morning. 
The innocent question of yours doesn’t fully register as he cleans up the table, not even as you share bites of your cosmic brownie with him before leaving. The gears in Jungkook’s head finally click a few minutes into the walk, hands laced together as you make your way up the sidewalk, making soft conversation. It’s not like he wasn’t well versed with girls, but more often than not he needed a little more straightforwardness to get himself to kick into action. So as you near his block, shoulders brushing together in an attempt to keep warm while you share hushed laughter, Jungkook decides it’s his chance to make a move. 
It’s not until your body shivers and you jokingly say you should have taken a taxi that Jungkook speaks up. “My place is down the street.” He slows his pace, pointing down the road with his thumb when you stare up at him. “Do you want to come over to warm up?”
Your place isn’t much further, and you know that going over to his would only mean you’d be walking home later in even colder weather, but you were not going to turn this down. As Chungha so kindly put it, this is fate, and you don’t fuck with fate. 
Jungkook stares down at you with his top teeth nibbling on his lip, looking a little nervous for asking, hoping he hadn’t come across as sleazy when that wasn’t his intention. But he tries to keep cool, knowing that just because you come in doesn’t mean anything would happen. But what if something did? It makes his skin tingle and his heart hiccup, moreso when your thumb gently rubs against his knuckles, squeezing his palm in reassurance. And then you’re muttering out a response with a sweet smile on your lips, “Sure, I’d love to.”
He hears the giggle you let out as he freezes momentarily, snapping out of it with a smile before turning down the street and leading you towards his place. There's a subtle pep in his step that you take note of, biting back a smile as you hold his hand a little tighter, walking a little faster to get out of the cold as his building approaches. Jungkook doesn’t release your hand as he enters his code, not even as you step into the elevator, riding up to his floor in comfortable silence. He only lets go once you step foot into his actual place, mainly because you start to step away, your curiosity making you want to take his place in. 
It’s a cozy studio apartment, walls covered like a gallery full of different pieces of art mixed in with music posters in differing sizes. His bed is pushed towards the corner by a window, enough space to allow a nightstand on one side and his desk on the other, overflowing with his art supplies. His sketchpad is laid out on it, opened on the drawing of you he had started earlier today, a little more detail on it than before, letting you know he had come home and worked on it some more before going out. 
“Do you want something to drink? I can make coffee, or anything warm.” His voice grabs your attention, turning to see him approaching his kitchen counter, a soft smile on his face as he allows you to snoop. 
“Coffee would be great.” It’s warmer in his apartment, his heater slowly filling up the space to a comfortable temperature, but you could never deny caffeine. 
He occupies himself by filling up the kettle, turning his head to glance over his shoulder and see the way you make your way over to the other corner of his place. He has a full set up in this corner, a record player with speakers on either side placed on top of a storage unit that holds records and CDs, his bass resting on a stand beside it. It’s different from the one he wore on stage, this one was a shade of blue and white with a few stickers placed on the back of it, a little rough around the edges from use, not the shiny black one he had on earlier. When he catches you staring at it he makes his way over to you, watching how your fingers gently trace the neck of it with a smile. 
“This is the first bass I bought as a teenager so I keep it safe here.” 
“So you won’t be smashing this on stage anytime soon then?” you joke, staring back at him with a smirk as you step away from the instrument and move closer to him. 
“I’ll save that for when I’m an actual rockstar, and definitely with a bass that’s not as cherished as that one.”
“Is that what you want to do?” you wonder, curious to know where Jungkook ranked his love for music and being on stage. He was so very clearly gifted with artistic ability, being able to transform simple images on paper into something astounding, but maybe that wasn’t what he actually craved from life. 
“Nah, I don’t think so,” he sighs, his eyes staring at the walls surrounding you, bouncing from the works of art to the bands he had tacked around. “If that's how it plays out I’m not against it because I really do enjoy it, but it's more of a hobby for me. Making a career out of my art is all I’ve ever thought about doing since I was young and my heart has never strayed from it. What about you?”
“I don’t know,” you sigh. “I love art, but I don’t think I’d love it if I had to use it to make money. Maybe if I thought I had more potential with it I’d pursue it more seriously. Until then, I’m okay with filling my units up with art labs, I mean it landed me with you as a partner so I think it's going pretty well.” 
Jungkook doesn’t even try to hide his smile at your words, his hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck as he laughs softly. His eyes never leave yours as you step closer to him, fingers reaching out to toy with the material of his shirt, tracing the pattern of it before fiddling with the buttons. The beating of his heart is felt in his throat as he swallows, rattling in his chest so loud he wonders if you could hear it, decides to speak to mask it just in case. 
“You have potential,” he chokes out in a whisper, hands clenching at his sides when you slide your palms up, smoothing over his shirt until you reach the collar. A shaky breath is exhaled into the air when your fingers gently touch the tattoo on his neck, finally able to admire it up close, appreciating the detail put into the petals of the chrysanthemum. Jungkook cranes his neck out to give you more space, enjoying the soft touches too much to pull away. 
“Pretty,” you murmur, too lost in your thoughts to realize you had uttered it outloud but Jungkook hears it perfectly thanks to your close proximity and it makes his skin warm up. 
“You’re the one with potential.” You inch back a bit to stare up at him, the earlier effect he had on you long gone now that you were comfortable, your eyes fluttering to each of his before landing on his lips and coming back up. “I’d pay to have any of your art on display at my place.”
“Really?” he wonders, voice quiet but laced with elation at the idea of you thinking his art was worthy of money. 
“Yeah, whatever your favorite thing to draw is, I’d love to put it on my wall.”
Jungkook’s eyes scan your face, following the slope of your nose before landing on your lips, seeing the small smile etched onto them. He’s only ever been quiet and reserved around you, allowing you to have your fun as you teased and flirted with him, but now that you’re in his place, staring up at him with eyes full of want, he feels the confidence brewing up within him. It starts slow at first, slight nerves tingling his skin as he takes a breath, morphing into a simmering heat as he feels a confession settling onto his tongue. 
“You know what my favorite feature of yours to draw is?” It’s a low rasp, a quiet question that leaves you desperate for an answer.
“What?” 
“Your lips,” he mumbles, his hand slowly coming up to cup your jaw gently. His palm is cool against your skin, thumb tracing the bottom of your lower lip, pulling the flesh down before letting it bounce back. “I know you catch me staring at them all the time but I can’t help it.” 
That much was true, Jungkook’s tendency to be caught in a day dream trance was not new to you, sometimes he’d be staring at your legs but more often than not he was transfixed on your lips. “The curve of your cupid’s bow, the way they shine in the light when you wear that pretty lipgloss. I could spend hours trying to perfect them on paper but I don’t think I’d do them justice. You’re a work of art Y/N.” He whispers the last part of it and you feel it deep within you, drying out your throat as you find yourself at a loss for words. Maybe it was a blessing that Jungkook never reciprocated your flirting before because if he ever came at you with these words during class, you’d melt into a puddle and stare at him with googly eyes the entire lesson. 
A small smirk pulls his lips up when he sees how his words have affected you, his half lidded eyes staring down at you in a way you’ve never seen before and it leaves you weak once more. “I wanna know what they taste like,” he breathes out softly, inching closer ever so slightly, his thumb once again tracing your bottom lip. “Can I?”
At his question the kettle sounds off, the bubbling of water and beeping letting you know the water for coffee was done but you’re not ready for him to pull away yet. Your hands tighten around his shirt, urging him to not walk away. You’ve been wanting this to happen since the moment you met him and you’d be damned if coffee would be what ruined it all for you. 
“Kiss me, please.”
Jungkook doesn’t know how many times he’s dreamt of you uttering those words, and now having it become reality, he wastes no time closing the narrow distance between you. His lips are tender against yours, gently pressing into you as his hand remains cradling your jaw, finger softly caressing the skin as you kiss him back. It’s a slow smack of your lips together, pulling back briefly as you stare up at him through hooded eyes, but now that you’ve had a taste you don’t want to pull away again. 
His free hand grips onto your waist as you reconnect your lips, fingers digging into your skin when he senses the urgency flowing off you, your own hands slipping up and around his neck until you’re carding your fingers through his hair. That’s when you hear the first sound from him, a low groan against your mouth that shoots straight to your core, and you want to hear it again. 
It becomes clear that although Jungkook was quiet in day to day life, he was not shy about being vocal in these situations. The hiss he releases as you yank on his hair, the subtle groan into your mouth when he feels your tongue tracing the seam of his lips, to the soft curse words spoken into the air as you bite down on his lower lip and let the flesh snap back. 
“Well,” you mumble, pecking his lips once more as you twirl a strand of his hair around your finger. “How do I taste?”
His hands tighten their grip on you at your words, lips shiny as he slowly licks them over with a slight tilt to his head. “Sweet,” he murmurs, nudging your noses together, his lips ghosting over yours in a teasing touch. “I bet the rest of you is sweet too.”
You choke down a gasp, caught in your throat, not expecting the bold words to come from Jungkook’s mouth or the effect they’d have on you. It makes your stomach flip and your mind spin as you imagine it. “Why don’t you find out?” There’s an underlying challenge lacing your words, urging him to do something about it, to do anything he wanted because you were more than willing, and Jungkook is never the type to back down from a challenge. 
He chuckles softly, kissing you once more as he begins leading you towards his bed a few feet away, the coffee now long forgotten, no longer needed as you warm each other up with roaming hands and shared gasps. You can feel the way his lips curl into a smile against you when you squeal in surprise as his hands grip your waist, lifting you onto his bed properly. The soft sheets are felt against your legs as you slide up, resting against the pillows he has set up against his headboard while he hovers over you. When he pulls away from you he takes a moment to take the scene in, seeing you nestled into his sheets like you belonged there, looking up at him with lust filled eyes and swollen lips.
“God, you have no idea what you do to me,” he groans softly, large palm gently touching your neck and feeling the racing pulse of your heart against his thumb. His knees are slotted in between your own, bunching up the material of your skirt until he can see the small sliver of your red underwear beneath it. With a quiet giggle you’re lifting your leg up, nudging against his thigh until you feel the slowly growing bulge in his jeans.
“Hm, I think I have some idea.” 
His eyes playfully narrow at you, jaw ticking out as he huffs out a teasing laugh, enjoying the way you join in, morphing into a breathless sigh of his name when he kisses down your neck. Your hands meet in his hair once again, scratching at his scalp in a way that makes him shiver against you, distracts him momentarily as he licks and nips at your sensitive skin. 
The turn of events that lead to this moment is not what he expected, ever, so as his hands reach the hem of your shirt, he hesitates for a moment. You notice it when his lips pause their downward descent, craning your head back slightly to see the unsure look on his eyes. But you want this, so your hands pull away from his hair and meet his on your stomach, slowly pulling your shirt up for him and smiling when he looks up at you with curious eyes. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, Jungkook. I’m sure.”
That reassurance was all he needed to kick back into action, pulling your shirt off of you and revealing the matching red bra you had underneath, the swells of your chest rising and falling with each breath as you lay there and let him admire you. You bite down on your lower lip while you lift yourself up slightly, gripping his own shirt and slowly tugging it up until he got the hint and helped you yank it off fully, revealing his golden skin and a mixture of more tattoos you had never seen before. Your fingers curl around his ribs as you marvel at the rich black shading the large moth across his sternum, following the curve of its wings before moving on to the following pieces in similar styles.
“I think you’re the work of art here Jungkook,” you sigh, leaning forward to kiss his skin, smiling against it when he rakes his fingers through your hair at the action. Your hands fall to the buckle of his belt, fiddling with the metal until you’re able to undo it, his button and zipper following suit and he laughs at your eagerness. 
“Wanna make you feel good.” His cock jumps at your statement, pushing against the denim and you feel it beneath your palm, looking up at him with a teasing smirk. “Can I?” you repeat his question from earlier, batting your eyes at him as if you weren’t asking for permission to do something sinful.
“Hm, I still want to get a proper taste of you first babe.” Still, he allows you to tug his jeans down, helping you slide them off his thighs until he’s left in his black briefs, kneeling in front of you with a cocky smile on his lips when he sees the way you focus on his cock tenting the fabric. “Lean back for me.”
He doesn’t need to tell you twice, settling back onto the pillows once more as he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your skirt, pulling the flimsy article of clothing off of you entirely, groaning under his breath when he spots the small wet patch on the front of your thong. His mind was currently whirling at the visual, only worsening when you reach behind yourself to unhook your bra, the straps sliding off your arms as you slowly peel it off and let it drop onto the floor beside the bed. Any teasing comment you were about to say gets swallowed down with a kiss as he closes the distance, large palm sliding up your torso until he has a handful of your tits in them, giving them a squeeze that leaves you moaning into his mouth.
“Ah, Jungkook,” you whine out when his fingers pinch your nipple, gently tugging at the hardened bud. He smirks against your skin as he trails kisses down your neck, messy smacks of his lips as he passes your collar bone and slides further down your body, his warm breath fanning across your other breast.
“Sensitive?” he teases, cocking up an eyebrow at you before he’s kissing around your neglected nipple until finally wrapping his lips around it and humming. The warmth of his mouth makes you keen, jutting your chest forward for more as you place your palm over his head, groaning when he pops off and flicks his tongue across the pebbled nub. “Are you this sensitive anywhere else?”
“M-maybe,” you gasp, looking down at him as he continues down your torso. He was your living wet dream, from the charming smile on his lips when you stare at him dazed, to the way his fingers dig into your thighs to pull you further down the bed, you want to remember this moment forever. 
He’s just the right mix of rough and loving, fingers kneading your flesh after he slides your soaked panties off, groaning at the sight of your sodden folds on display for him, dripping and begging for him to get a taste. Jungkook settles between your thighs, staring at your pussy with lust filled eyes, it catches you by surprise when he leans forward and presses a firm kiss against your bundle of nerves, chuckling slightly when you gasp as the feeling. 
“I think you are,” he teases, slowly flicking the top of his tongue across your clit, reveling in the shuddering breath you release as your back relaxes against the bed. His hands slowly rub against your thighs as he takes his time, wanting to get to know every inch of you from this perspective. The way you roll your hips up for more, how your hands glide down your own body to tangle into his hair, the breathless moans of his name; he wants to store this memory under lock and key in his brain forever. 
Jungkook hums against your folds, loving the taste of you on his tongue, heart fluttering when your hand releases his hair to lace your hand with his as you moan at the pleasure. 
“Wanna leave you messy,” he mumbles as he pulls away, lips shiny with your arousal, glistening in the light of his room. A curious hum escapes your lips as you lift your head to stare at him, seeing his free hand spreading your lips apart before he’s spitting onto them, smirking when you gasp at the lewd action. The contrast of his spit on your warm skin sends a tingle up your spine, mouth dropping in awe when he digs back in, eating you out with more determination. 
His nose presses against your skin as he sucks on your clit, finding the perfect rhythm that leaves you mewling on his sheets. He smirks against you when your fingers tighten around his hand, eyes looking up at you, focused on the way your boobs jiggle as you pant from his ministrations. He can feel the way his chin gets wet as another gush of arousal spills out of you and when his finger comes up to circle your entrance he lets out a satisfied sound as the slick coats his digit. With no resistance, his fingers slip into you, the warmth of your walls wrapping around him as he slowly pumps his fingers, leaving him softly rutting into the sheets as he imagines how you’ll feel wrapped around his cock. 
The waves of pleasure wash over you quickly, rolling in with each tantalizing flick of his tongue and when he adds a second finger into the mix the delicious stretch fills you with excitement. The tips of his fingers curve up just right, nudging against the rough patch inside of you until you’re gasping again. A deep groan vibrates against your skin when your walls tighten around his fingers as he adds a third, your body eagerly inviting him in as you arch your back at the sensation. Jungkook takes great enjoyment in watching you fall apart, feeling you melt at his touch, that much is made clear as he moans like he was the one being pleasured, and it further fuels your approaching climax.
“Gonna cum,” you choke out, gasping as you stare down at him between your legs. Maybe it was because you’ve been wanting this—or some version of it—for so long but you can’t find it in yourself to feel embarrassed by how quickly he was able to break you down into a whimpering mess with his mouth. 
Jungkook’s finger’s quicken up their pace at your words, determination set in his brows as he pulls back, lips shiny as he smirks up at you. “C’mon, be a good girl and let me taste you.” The way he says it, eyes piercing into you as he latches back onto your clit, it makes your eyes roll back into your skull, the wet squelch of his fingers pumping into you mixing with the sinful sounds of your desperate moans. You’d never expect those words to come tumbling out of him, the need to do as he asks taking over, wanting to be as good as he says, and how could you ever deny him? 
A shout of his name is all you can say before you’re cumming, a flash of white displayed against your lids as you squeeze your eyes shut, hips unable to wiggle away from him when he pins you down with your connected hands, forcing you to ride out your orgasm completely until you’re whimpering and gasping on the bed. 
“So sweet,” he mumbles, pulling away from your messy folds with a look of awe on his face. His eyes are still focused on his fingers lazily pumping into you, admiring the way they shine with your slick coating them, feeling the pulsing of your sensitive walls around him as he gives your pussy a final lick before slowly crawling up your trembling body to stare down at you. “Have a taste.”
His wet lips reconnect with yours instantly, slowly creeping his tongue into your mouth while you hum in surprise, moaning into it as his tongue tangles with yours, passing the lingering taste in his mouth to you in an intimate display that left your sensitive core aching for more. Without pulling apart, your hands trail up his sides, gliding across his skin before venturing down his front. You can feel the way his muscles tense at the ticklish sensation, your fingertips ghosting across his skin until you’re toying with the hem of his briefs before slowly slipping your palm inside. He grunts against you, finally pulling away with a pant just as you wrap your hand around his length, thick and heavy in your palm while you slide it up, feeling the oozing beads of precum coating your skin as you circle his head with the flat of your thumb. 
“Wanna taste you too,” you mumble, still breathless from it all but the flicker of excitement is evident in you as you begin kissing his jaw, down his neck to suck a small blossom of purple into his skin. The ache makes him hiss, eyes fluttering shut when your palm squeezes around him slightly as you slide up. 
“Fuck,” he groans. “Y-yeah, okay.”
His agreement is all you need to pull your hands out of his briefs, pressing them flat against his chest to flip him over, letting him rest his back onto the pillows against the headboard as you settle between his thighs with hunger swirling in your eyes. Jungkook looks pretty like this, strands of his hair framing his face as he stares at you, head tilted with a small smile tugging at his lips while he contemplates your next move. His head falls back slightly as you let your hands trail down his skin once more, feeling the twitch of his stomach when you run your finger along his length over the material of his briefs. There’s clear enjoyment on his face as he allows you to take your time because it gives him a chance to admire you, to see the way your eyes widen slightly when you finally tug down his underwear, his cock springing out at no longer being restrained.
“Of course you have a big dick,” you huff, tip of your tongue running along the bottom of your teeth while you take it in. The prominent veins trailing up the body of it only accentuate his size, guiding your eyes up to the bulbous pink tip, pearls of precum dripping and begging for your attention.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he laughs out, biting down on his lower lips when you lift your palm up to your mouth and spit into it.
“It means,” you start, reaching forward with your messy hand and wrapping it around his base. “That you’re the perfect package, so why wouldn’t you have the perfect cock?” If Jungkook had a response to that, it dies in his throat the minute you start pumping his length, the slick of your saliva aiding the glide. Jungkook’s hands fist the sheets beside him when your thumb rubs the underside of his cock, jaw dropping open in a gasp while you lean forward in your kneeled position, mouth just inches away from his head. The warmth of your breath tickles his skin, a tender kiss pressed to his mushroom tip before you’re slowly opening up your lips and taking him in.
“S-shit,” he rasps, fighting the urge to thrust up into your mouth as your tongue curves underneath his cock, sliding deeper into your mouth. You repeat the motion, sliding down a bit before coming back up, collecting enough spit in your mouth to coat his length each time until it was pooling around the base of his cock, dripping down the side and leaving it as messy as he had left you earlier.
“Feel good?” you breathe as you pop off his length, giving him a sinful smile while your hands continue their movements, twisting in tandem in the perfect rhythm that left him feeling like he was floating. 
“Yeah, so good.” You feel the spark of pride in your chest when his voice trembles, leaning back over to wrap your lips around his tip only, giving it your undivided attention while your palm tightens its grip slightly. His thighs tense on either side of you as he slowly ruts up, no longer able to fight back his urges when you were making him feel this good. He groans at the visual in front of him, the slurps of your mouth sucking him in, how your lashes flutter while you sink down onto his length, the mess of drool on your chin and before he knows it he’s lifting a hand up and coming to place it behind your head. There’s no pressure behind it, simply his fingers resting on your hair, but you can feel the temptation he has by the way his fingertips briefly tighten around your strands. With a flicker of your gaze, you’re staring up at him through your lashes, giving him a quick nod with a mouthful of his cock as confirmation for him to do what he wanted.
Jungkook lets out a shuttered breath as his fingers grip your hair with confidence, yanking at it slightly and smirking when you hum around his length at the sting to your scalp. Your hand falls from his cock, settling over his thigh to let him have full control, taking in a slow breath when you feel him begin to push you down. He takes in every sensation, the pull of your lips pulled taut around him, the glide of your tongue alongside him, the way your nails dig into his thigh just as his tip nudges your throat, your muscles spasming around him for a moment before he’s pulling you off and allowing you to gasp in a wet breath. There’s a smirk on your lips that lets him know you enjoy it, the slow simmer he feels inside spreading when you allow him to do it again, and again, enjoying the messy way you choke on his cock too much to stop.
“God,” he groans out, thick with desire. “Who knew all it would take to have you acting like this was me on stage showing off my tattoos.” The confidence at the change of it all was swirling within him, never imagining the same eyes that would stare at him until his cheeks were red would be looking up at him full of tears while you gave him a blowjob. Seeing you so pliant in his grasp, the fiery, flirty version of you broken apart to reveal this image, it makes him chuckle darkly at how clear it is that the both of you were hiding aspects of yourself without knowing it.
His hands pull you off his cock when he starts to feel his orgasm beginning to spark inside of him, not wanting to cum in your mouth before he gets to feel your walls around his cock. Your lips are swollen and shiny as you sit back up, biting down on your lower lip as you rest your palms on either side of his hips and lean closer to his face. “Honestly, even with your cute turtleneck you could do whatever you wanted to me.” Your lips ghost over his own as you speak, breathing out a laugh as he leans forward in an attempt to kiss you, missing you when you inch back.
“Oh yeah?” he chuckles, his hand coming up to cup behind your neck, not letting you inch away before his lips are pressing against yours. It’s messy, the drool on your lips coating his own but he loves it anyway, groaning when you slip your lips open and lick your way into his mouth. Jungkook was only teasing, he knew your crush on him wasn’t purely based on the version you’re seeing tonight, having seen first hand how much you’d compliment him when he showed up to class in new glasses or told him how cute his smile was on a daily, but he can’t lie and say he doesn’t enjoy the slight flustered way you had behaved tonight.
“I can do whatever I want?” he wonders, pulling away and staring at you with hooded eyes, thumb rubbing along your jaw as he loosens his hold on your neck.
“Mhm,” you confirm sweetly, squealing when he suddenly flips you both over, the pillows cushioning your head while you stare up at Jungkook hovering over you. His dark hair hangs beside his face, nose scrunched up cutely at your giggle, eyes sparkling with mischief and desire so strong it makes your tummy flip. 
“Can I fuck you?” he questions softly, eyes flicking down to your lips and back up. His cock rests on your folds, slowly sliding against them as he ruts into you, lips pulling into a smirk when you groan at the sensation. Your fingers grip his sides when the head of his cock nudges against your swollen clit, hips rolling up to meet his thrusts, nodding with a small gasp. “No, baby. I need words.”
Shutting your eyes briefly, you try to calm your racing mind with a slow breath, opening them back up to stare directly at him. “Fuck me Jungkook, please.” He savors the words after you say them, breathing out a sigh when you lift your head up slightly to press a tender kiss to his lips. “I want it.”
A groan fills the air, fingers digging into his skin when he speeds up his thrusts, grinding against you with a tiny curse uttered under his breath before he’s pulling away. His body leans across to the side, scrambling over you to reach his nightstand in the corner, yanking the drawer open to pull out a small foil packet, biting the corner of it as he resituates himself over you with a boyish smile. You giggle at his obvious enthusiasm, biting down on your lower lip while you watch him tear the condom wrapper open, eyes falling onto his cock when he slowly fists it before rolling it on. Jungkook takes his time as he does so, eyes looking up at you with a smirk etched onto his lips, sighing softly as his hands meet the base of his cock. 
“Ready?” he breathes out, hands settling beside you as he leans over your body, nudging your noses together with a shared smile. When you nod, mumbling out a confirmation, he leads his length towards your dripping center, feeling the tight ring of muscle as he slowly inches forward. Your breath hitches in your throat at the sensation, palms gliding across his back as the head of his cock breaches your entrance. The slight stretch in the beginning sends a shock of excitement through you, moaning slightly when he pushes in further, sliding in with ease from how wet you are. 
Jungkook feels like he’s on cloud nine right now, the warmth of your walls enveloping him perfectly, tightening around him each time you’d gasp when he’d get deeper inside of you. His jaw is slack as he takes it all in, letting out a small groan of your name when he finally bottoms out, nuzzled deep within you, and he swears his body trembles slightly when he takes a glance between your bodies, seeing the way you’re connected now. Somehow you want him impossibly closer, hooking your legs around his slim waist to keep him close before he even has a chance to move, adjusting to his size as your walls flutter around him. 
“Fuck,” you shudder, mouthing kisses down his jaw to bring him back to reality. “Feel so full.” There’s a slight slur to your voice now, heady with pleasure, drunk off Jungkook entirely and it fills him with a sense of pride to hear you sound so needy for him like this. The groan he releases vibrates his throat as you kiss it, wet smacks to his warming skin that just make it harder for him to unscramble the words in his brain, and when your lips ghost over the earlier hickey you painted onto his skin his hips have a mind of their own and inch back, thrusting into you suddenly. A gasp hits his skin at the motion, your fingernails pressing into his back as he repeats it once more, pulling out a little more each time until he is slowly rocking into you.
“Tell me,” he pants, his finger tapping the bottom of your chin to get you to look up at him. “How do you want it?” His brow is cocked up in question, lips shining back as he runs his tongue along them. “Soft and slow?” His thrusts match his words, fucking into you sensually, reaching deep within you, his cock nudging against the best part inside of you until you were gasping. It makes you cling onto him tightly, feeling each deliberate roll of his hips, a slow heat of comfort and pleasure spreading through you until your skin is tingling at his touch. 
“Or rough and messy?” You have no time for the words to settle in your mind before he’s changing up the tempo, rearing his hips back before thrusting forward, skin smacking together and filling up his room. A strained moan leaves your lips, quickly swallowed down by a kiss as he closes the small distance between you, each gasp of yours fueling his hips until he’s fluidly pistoning into you. His cock fills you up deliciously, stretching you out until your walls are molding around him as if he belonged there. Each rough rock forward has him hitting your patch of nerves perfectly, cock curving just right inside of you, turning your thoughts into mush, every single cell in your body screaming for more.
“Like this,” you choke out, pulling apart with a wet smack, a string of saliva breaking between you. “God, just like this.” Your head is thrown back now and Jungkook takes full advantage to even out the playing field and give you a hickey of your own. The second his lips press into your neck your hand is coming to tangle into his hair, groaning softly as he nips and sucks your tender flesh. Your walls tighten around him at the new stimulation, your warmth sucking him back in with each thrust, greedy for more and he gives you exactly what you want. He hums against your neck when he feels another gush of your arousal drip out of you, coating your thighs, the wet squelch of your pussy soaking his cock getting louder, blending in with your soft cries in a perfect mix.
“Dirty girl,” he groans out, tip of his tongue flicking against the purple splotch beneath your ear, enjoying the way you shudder at the ticklish feeling. His hand fists the sheet beside you as he speeds up, balls smacking into you each time from the force, his eyes falling onto your tits to admire them as they jiggle with each thrust. His other hand comes up to squeeze your breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers until your back is arching up, the small jolt of pleasure spreading through like a shock of electricity. 
“You like getting fucked like this?” he questions, knowing the answer very well by the look on your face. Your eyes are dazed as you stare at him, brows pinched together into a beautiful scowl while he continues his rough pace, tightening your legs around him and rolling your hips up in time. 
“Mm, want it harder.” There’s slight humor laced in your voice as you bite down on your bottom lip, feeling the skip in your heart as he narrows his eyes at you playfully, tongue prodding at his cheek like he did earlier as he shakes his head in thought. 
“Oh, you want it harder?” he teases, his hips coming to a complete stop before he’s pulling out entirely. You don’t have time to complain over the sudden empty feeling, his large hands gripping your hips so tightly it dimples the skin, flipping you over with ease onto your front. Jungkook chuckles as you turn your head around to stare at him, feeling his hands scoop under you to haul you up onto your hands and knees properly. 
“I can fuck you harder, pretty girl.” A mirth smile is on his lips while he kneels behind you, knees pushing your legs further apart, palm coming down to glide up your back until he’s pressing down to bend you over fully. Your mind’s spinning at the gentle pet name he had called you, heart warming in your chest in an adorable way that doesn’t match the raunchy events transpiring, but you bask in it for a second, coming out of it when your chest presses into his sheets. His palm doesn’t ease up until your hands are planted beside your head, cheek pressed to the side.
The sheets rustle as you tighten your hold on them, letting out a stuttering breath when you try to calm your racing heart at the tone he had used. Your skin breaks out into goosebumps as he trails his hand back down your body, over the curve of your waist, down to your butt where he softly palms your flesh. A small groan fills the air when his hands slip down to your thighs, feeling the mess coating your skin, showing him just how much you want him. With bated breath, he fists his cock once more, leading it to your heat and sliding in with a smooth thrust, the wet squelch blending in with your raspy moan when you feel how much deeper he reaches you in this position. 
“Shit, Jungkook—ah.” He gives you exactly what you asked for, large hands gripping your hips tightly to prevent you from going anywhere, hips thrusting into you with enough force to make his bed frame rattle, but his eyes were glued to the visual of his cock splitting you open. His jaw clenches slightly as he focuses on the bounce of your ass each time he rocked forward, the resounding smack of skin filling up his room. Jungkook can’t hold back the moan of your name when he spots how you’re creaming his cock, adding more mess to all of it, but this is what you wanted, rough and messy, so he’s keeping his word. 
“How’s that for harder?” he drawls out, tongue coming out to swipe at his lip, feeling the way your thighs tremble against his own. 
Words leave your mind for a minute, the speed of his thrusts turning you into jello as he pounds into you, the feeling of his cock robbing you of your voice. Jungkook can see his effect on you easily, scooping an arm under your hips to hold you steady when your form starts to falter, and you squeal as he lifts you up, angling your hips higher, tip of his cock nudging different parts inside of you that made your walls tighten around him. 
“You feel so good Kook,” you whine out, knuckles turning white as you tighten your hold on his sheets, wrinkling them in your gasp. Your cheek is smushed into the bed but he can make out your words just fine, the neediness laced into each syllable makes him want to give you more, sliding the hand around your hips to meet your sensitive clit. Your reaction is immediate, gasping lewdly as his calloused finger finds your swollen nub, rubbing circles in time with his thrusts and smirking when your hips twitch in his grasp. 
“Yeah?” he rasps, never slowing his pace, his own stomach tightening when he feels the way your walls flutter around him. “Am I gonna ruin you for everyone else? Make you dream about me fucking you like this?”
His words have their desired effect on you, crying out as you start to rut back onto him, your desperation to cum growing inside if you, striking a match within you until a steady fire is spreading. From Jungkook’s perspective, desperation looks good on you, leaves your skin sweaty and glowing in the light, makes your voice breathy as you moan out his name like a mantra, eyes screwed shut as you crumble into the sheets with his hand holding you up. 
“Yes, fuck. I’m only gonna want you, j-just you.” Your confession makes his chest tighten, his own pleasure crawling up his spine, sparking up every nerve ending, making his brain foggy until all he can think about is you you you. 
“Me too, pretty girl,” he groans out, speeding up the flick of his fingers, fucking you with more urgency to send you both over the edge. Your body tenses up as you focus on the pleasure, mouth opening up in a silent gasp as the feeling overwhelms you, pushing you over with a final flick that sends you shuddering beneath him as you cum for a second time tonight. 
Jungkook marvels at the way your body reacts to him, hips twitching in his grasp as you lift your face up from the sheets to gasp in a breath when his pace never slows, seeking out his own pleasure as it floods his system. 
“Fuck, fuck—“ he chants, raspy and trembling. The tingles of oversensitivity flare up inside of you but you bask in it, mewling softly under your breath as he surges deeper into your pulsing walls and cums with a raspy groan of your name. His heavy breathing fills the air, hips pressed flush against you, and you’re expecting him to pull out but he seems to have other plans in store. A choked moan is ripped out of you as his fingers come back to life, sliding up your sodden folds and enjoying the way you tremble under his touch. 
Jungkook leans over your weak form until his lips are pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder, feeling the warmth of your skin. The tenderness of his kiss doesn’t match the quick figure eights he rubs into your clit, thighs shaking as you debate running from the sharp pleasure. 
“You wanted it messy baby, make me messy again.” His words go straight to your core, stomach hiccuping as you gasp and moan, the overwhelming pleasure building up until you have no choice but to take it. Jungkook continues to press soft kisses to your skin as he praises you, a final flick of his fingers is what breaks the dam as you cum a final time. He groans against your skin when your walls clamp around him, arousal gushing out of you and coating his dick, dripping down your thighs until his sheets are messy from it all. Only then does he pull out. “Good girl.”
He slowly helps you lower yourself onto his bed, choosing to lick his fingers clean before he’s disposing of the condom and coming back to your defeated body on his sheets. “C’mon, let's get you cleaned up.” His voice is soft now, a gentle smile on his face that you see as he flips you over, fingers soothing your skin. 
“You can’t do that,” you scoff, finger coming up to prod at his chest. 
“Do what?”
“Fucking destroy me and then act all cute.” That earns you a laugh from him, nose scrunching up in that way you always love and it makes your heart flutter in your chest. 
“Yes I can,” he argues, slowly hauling you up to sit. “Do you want to use my shower?”
You hum under your breath, distracted for a moment as your eyes focus on the ink on his skin once more. You could use a shower, but having to walk home in this weather with wet hair was asking to get yourself sick. “I can shower at my place.”
Jungkook’s eyes look away from you instantly, pushing away the slightly dejected feeling that settles into his stomach and forcing himself to speak properly. Why was it so easy for him to talk your ear off while buried inside of you but his mind can’t formulate a sentence to invite you to stay. With a small clear of his throat, his eyes find yours again, uncertainty swirling in them as he speaks, “You can stay the night…I’d like it if you stayed the night.”
Your hands come up to cup his cheeks as you smile, that funny feeling in your chest spreading and making you feel giddy as you stare at him. “Well, if that’s what you’d like, I’m staying.”
Jungkook allows you to shower first, taking his time to finish up the coffee he promised you earlier as well as leaving some clothes for you to sleep in once you come out, also taking the liberty to swap his bed sheets because his current ones would need to be cleaned. It feels domestic to be bundled up in his clothing, sipping coffee in his bedroom while you admire more of the art on his walls, hearing him in the shower a few feet away. 
When he finally emerges from the bathroom, you do a double take, seeing him exiting with a long sleeve and sweats, brown hair falling over his forehead and his signature frames back onto his face. It was a softer looking version of the man that had walked in, but as he rolls up the sleeves of his pullover, the black ink meeting your eyes once more, it blends the two versions perfectly. 
“What?” he wonders when he catches your gaze, charming smile on his lips as he settles onto his bed a few feet away from you. 
“Nothing, you’re just cute.” His cheeks tint at your compliment, trying to brush it off with a smile as he pats the spot beside him to beckon you over. 
“You’re cuter,” he counters, snickering as you settle onto the bed, placing your mug on the coaster resting on his nightstand. 
“Hm, what was it again? I’m your pretty girl?” Not an ounce of embarrassment lays in him as he nods along, finger coming up to playfully tap at your chin. 
“You liked that huh?” 
“I did,” you confirm, smiling up at him as he inches closer. You beat him to the punch, swooping in and pressing your lips together sweetly, giggling as he makes a small noise of surprise. 
“I’ll make sure to say it more often.” It makes heat spread through you, having to ebb away your thoughts as he pushes down his sheets, a knowing smile on his lips when you look away from him. Jungkook chuckles under his breath when you finally join him under the sheets, his arm hooking around you to bring you close to his side. You get comfortable quickly, nuzzling into his chest as you throw your arm around his waist, hearing the slow beating of his heart. 
His body moves slightly as he brings up the blankets, his head looking down at you and smiling at the content look on your face. “I know this is totally backwards,” he starts, licking his lips over when you peer up at him with curious eyes. “But I’d really like to take you on a date. A proper one, that doesn’t involve you getting chased by the campus goose beforehand.”
“Really?” You can’t lie and say you weren’t hoping that this is what it would lead to, not wanting this to just be a one off hook up that would either make your relationship in class awkward or limit this to being the extent of your relationship. Jungkook had reeled you in the second you spoke to him on the first day of class, his polite demeanor and gentle compliments making it easy for you to picture what he would be like as a potential boyfriend. Tie that in with the way he was able to turn you into a stuttering mess with his fingers earlier tonight and that was all you needed to know he was the perfect package for you. 
“Yeah, we can go out for breakfast tomorrow before we finish our drawings? Or, I can take you to this really cool art shop a few blocks away. There's also this really pretty cafe that has themed drinks I think you’d like. And—“ his rambling is cut short as you squish his cheeks and bring his face down to plant another kiss on his lips. Jungkook finally releases a breath as you kiss him, eyes fluttering shut while his mind slows down and focuses on the gentle smacks of your lips together. 
“Yes,” you mumble against his mouth, lips curved up into a smile. 
“Yes to what?” he wonders, kissing you once again because he can’t get enough. 
“All of it. I’ll go anywhere with you.” You feel his heart race pick up against your palm, the smile on his face letting you know it’s not from nerves. Jungkook’s mind begins to whirl again with ideas, wanting to come up with something perfect, something worthy enough to show you just how he felt, and as he starts to speak them out loud once more, you can’t help but feel just as giddy.
Promises of taking you to see his band again, making you an art piece for you to hang on your wall, teaching you any song you want to learn on bass, are spoken into existence and you agree to all of it. The sparkle in his eyes makes your heart melt as you lean forward and kiss him once more, your cheek nudging his glasses while his palm comes up to cup your face. 
“I know how I wanna draw you for my project,” you murmur against his lips. 
“How?”
You pull back and turn to face the corner of his room, making two L shapes with your fingers and holding them close like a frame as you point to his bass. “With your cherished bass of course.”
He chuckles, arms wrapping around your waist to bring you closer as he kisses your cheek. “Yeah? I’ll even pose shirtless for you if you’d like.”
“Oh, don’t threaten me with a good time,” you laugh, tangling your fingers in his hair, feeling the way his body shakes as he joins in with your laughter. As you lay there, feeling Jungkook pressing gentle kisses to your cheek, twirling strands of his hair in your finger while you keep him close, you’re flooded with excitement at whatever he has planned. From this position, your eyes make out his opened sketch pad, the drawing of yourself so clear on the paper, and as that same fluttering feeling takes over your chest, you’ve never been more thankful to have chosen his sweet, geeky self to be your art partner.
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jungkxook · 6 months ago
Text
—sweeter than sugar. (m)
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⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader 
⟶ genre: ceo!jungkook / sugar daddy au + fluff / smut 
⟶ words: 22,258 oops
⟶ rating: 18+ 
⟶ summary: when infamous playboy jeon jungkook comes to you with a proposition that you know you should say no to, you can’t. because all you really know is that being spoiled has never felt so sweet before
⟶ warnings: lot’s of brand name dropping bc jungkook stays spoiling you!!, sprinkle of angst, unprotected sex, dry humping, grinding, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, face riding, handjob, standing sex, window sex?, riding, creampie
⟶ note: this is a repost of a fic from my old blog, just in case it looks familiar to anyone!
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You have come to find that when rich men and women are drunk enough, they will talk.
Naturally, living in the metropolis that is New York City with its crowded population of millions, you are bound to come across certain interesting people. Yet none have seemingly compared to your experiences with the social elite and upper class businessmen and women of the city. For there, nestled perfectly in the hub of the mayhem and money that is the Financial District of Lower Manhattan in a bar lounge you work at, you learn much about the inner workings and the dramatic gossip of some of the wealthiest people in the city. Stripped down to nothing but self-indulgent humans enjoying their happy hours after a day of work and incredibly drunk off of Cabernet Sauvignon red wine and smooth Louis XIII cognac and martini cocktails, they will talk. They will talk about important business deals, murmur about the hushed world of embezzlers, boast about their latest luxurious purchase, whisper about affairs, and mock fellow friends or business partners.
Of course you listen. You always listen. To you, these people are a whole other species ━ so distant from yourself yet so fascinating. It’s not as if they care about your eavesdropping either, for they do not so much as grace you with a second glance, even when you present them with their drink. Perhaps that’s for the best. After all, you’re certain you’ll never be able to understand them. It’s not as if you like them either. But there is one person in particular who becomes quite the talk of the wealthy entrepreneurs and tycoons that occupy the lounge; the same one person who catches your attention over the many nights of your shifts and you think him to be, perhaps, even more fascinating than his fellow snobby folk.
Jungkook, made of diamonds and gold, is a person you find hard to avoid.
Tabloids and whispers of the eminent young man make him known to you far before you even lay eyes on him and all you know is that he is built upon old money and glory. He is infamous, it appears from the ostentatious words that pluck him from the ordinary and hangs him high above in the endless sky, born into a world where he is lucky enough to be graced with not only the wealth but the handsome features too. You still aren’t quite sure you understand what exactly he does for a living, though you learn over time he’s inherited his father’s company of investment banking at the ripe age of 23 after his father’s retirement. Really, all that seems to pique your interest is the simple fact that he wears clothes that cost the same amount as your college tuition, if not more, whilst you are drowning in obstinate debt. It is a life he will never know, much like his life is one you will never know.
Though many attempt to degrade him as being a spoiled rich kid with a pretty face who doesn’t deserve his father’s company, you can hardly find an inkling of hatred in your bones for the boy. Instead, you find blatant envy laced in every nerve, despite still struggling internally to be thankful for the dismal life you live from a day-to-day basis. It is only on days when the universe itself decides to take it’s annoyance out on you in mundane mishaps that makes you entirely jealous of men and women at the lounge. Of the eminent man that is Jungkook.
As a college student in your final year, the looming fact of paying your tuition debt, amongst other necessities and living expenses, dangles over your head in a foreboding dark cloud. It isn’t the idea that you struggle to barely make ends meet, or yet another heated conversation you have with your landlord only a week prior, begging him to wait until you get paid to give him your rent, or the fact that you work two part-time jobs aside from attending class in an attempt to make enough money to live that makes you break down on one particular Saturday morning. It is when you return from your first job of working an eight hour shift at the café around the corner from where you live, climb the five flights of stairs to your floor after you find that the elevator isn’t working, only to scan through your daily mail of bills and taxes to find an envelope containing a letter with big, bolded words screaming at you EVICTION NOTICE, akin to two middle fingers raised high in the air for you.
That is when the severity of your situation seems to hit you because you suddenly become aware in an entirely pessimistic shame that you have failed. Failed to make ends meet and failed to make your dull routine work of running from one job to the next and attending classes. You skim the contents of the notice rather quickly, your mind stuck somewhere between terror of living on the streets and rushing to get ready for your second shift of the night, but your nervous eyes are able to catch a glimpse of the three week deadline your landlord gives you in order to either return to him the lost rent you are owing to stay or to pack your belongings and leave. You hardly have time to read the rest or devise a plan in order to save your ass as you crumple the paper in anger and toss it on your bed before moving to prepare yourself for work.
The second job you work is at the lounge. It’s popularity amongst the urbanites makes sure that you find little to no time to rest as you are running back and forth from behind the counter to customers serving drinks and other appetizers. It’s a newer job you work, having only been there for six months, but at the four month mark is when he starts showing up, as if the universe further wanted to laugh in your face and taunt that there are people who never have to work hard to simply live.
In the short time span of two months that you see him at the lounge, you never once utter a word to him as your boss makes certain that he personally tends to Jungkook and his friends in an attempt to please the rich boy. However, you admire him from afar anyway, taking note in his appearances and manners. He is always well dressed from head to toe in perfectly tailored and fitting Giorgio Armani suits. His dress shirts are usually either pure cotton or some sort of silky lavish material and a watch and rings are accessories he always seems to wear. He is generous, however, and orders the most expensive drinks for he and his friends and is the one to make sure they find a ride home but you discover he must naturally be a bit of a lush because he is always stumbling out of the lounge well into the night and blissfully inebriated, usually with a girl wrapped around his finger and fawning over him drunkenly. He is, quite obviously, a sybarite, a playboy, but a kind one at that ━ or perhaps that is just a facade.
You do not see him at first when you begin your shift that night, but he seems to make an appearance at the most terrible of times. It is just as you’re finally clocking out for your break and take a step outside next to the building for a breath of air, further off from the other customers of the lounge who like to sit on the patio with a burning cigarette limply dangling from fingertips or the finest of cigars, when you find your boss, Namjoon, joining your side to tell you something you aren’t at all prepared to hear.
“Y/N, I actually wanted to talk to you,” he starts, his tone casual. The night is cool despite being mid-spring, and a breeze ruffles his dark hair and sends a chill down your spine.
“Am I in trouble?” You ask, and though it is supposed to be a joke, you can’t help but fear for a moment about whether you might actually be.
“Oh, no, nothing like that,” he says with a lighthearted chuckle. “No, no. It’s just that━ Well, you see━ You’re most certainly one of our best employees here but, that being said, I think━ Ahem, simply put, with all the new hires we got recently and all their training, we unfortunately are going to have to start pulling your hours.”
His words don’t seem to register in your mind at first and you look at him curiously, dumbfounded. “You what?”
“From now on, we only need you to work ten hours a week here,” he says. “Just for the time being━”
“You’re cutting back on my hours?” You ask abruptly. “Why me?”
“If it makes you feel any better, you aren’t the only one this is happening to,” he replies. “It’s a really shitty thing to do, I know, but we have no other choice.”
Finally, what he says seems to sink in and your eyes widen in disbelief. You push yourself off the wall you are leaning against and round on him instantly. “No, no, you can’t! Please! I need those extra hours and the money━ Look, I just got the news today that I might be kicked out of my apartment in less than a month and I still need to pay back my school tuition. I can’t afford to━”
“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Namjoon says, entirely in a dismissive manner that has you coming to a complete halt and making you feel absolutely foolish. “But there’s nothing I can do right now━ Ah! If it isn’t the man himself! Jungkook! Glad to see you could make it. Excuse me, doll━”
Your boss moves quickly, parting from you with a final pat on your shoulder as if to poorly console you before shifting his attention over to the newcomer, to Jungkook. You’re seething with absolute rage that boils in the pit of your stomach and the tips of your fingers, your mouth hanging opened in an appalled gap, as you whirl around only to have your eyes settle upon your boss devoting all his attention to Jungkook and the friend by his side who is digging through his pockets for a cigarette atop the patio just behind you. You are left entirely forgotten and bristling with anger that you find hard to keep under control as you gawk at your boss before realizing that Jungkook is staring at you.
His dark chocolate pupils peer at you under the shimmering moonlight, reflecting something soft and pensive, but what exactly he is thinking, you can’t surely make out. It catches you off guard and has you clamping your mouth shut as if to showcase some sort of proper etiquette around the prestige boy, a blush warming your cheeks, because why is he looking at you? He’s never taken the time to so much as glance your way with any sort of interest ━ or so you thought ━ and yet here he is, his intimidating eyes piercing yours and making you shift uncomfortably in your spot. You don’t bother to linger any longer after that.
As soon as his friend is calling for his attention, and Jungkook turns to avert his gaze to the conversation that is happening without him, you round on your heel and briskly walk back into the lounge, your mind in a haze of embarrassed confusion and anger.
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Your awkward encounter with Jungkook is quick to slip your mind as soon as you are hurled back into the persistent problems of your life.
The next few days elapse into one another in a useless blur as you try to beg your boss at your first job to allow you more shifts, while simultaneously trying to discover what you will do and who you can live with if you are evicted. Moving back in with your parents seems the most practical but least favourable when they live too far away from your jobs and school. You’re considering asking a close friend if you can live with them for a few weeks when the universe seems to present itself to you one more time, but in a way to redeem itself.
It happens on that Wednesday, only a few days after receiving the eviction notice. You return to your job at the lounge that night for a rather usually dull shift as not many people seem to come out on a night that is in the middle of the week. It’s slow, as you expect, and you try to spend the time by cleaning the bar counter, cleaning the shelves that the bottles of liquor stand on, cleaning glasses, and repeating the process again and again, but even that becomes tedious after a while. The lounge itself isn’t typically a place of gathering for just anybody with it’s all glass panes, dark interior, and lights of hues of purple and blue to help with the ambiance, modern furniture, and smooth jazz music to tie it all perfectly together. It’s nearing 7pm when the door swings open but you hardly pay much attention as you’re uselessly wiping the counter and fretting over the notice. When you hear the sound of someone clearing their throat from behind you, you spin around and come face-to-face with none other than Jungkook.
An involuntary gasp slips past your parted lips before you can swallow it back and your hands quickly abandon the rag you’re holding to nervously smooth down your hair and clothes.
“Hi there,” he smiles and, when he does, it is something daunting and mischievous.
He’s abandoned his usual Armani attire for something a little more casual though even your untrained eye can sense that the clothes he wears still costs much more than what you earn in a day. A Saint Laurent bomber jacket, a Rolex watch, Louis Vuitton dress shoes. His blonde locks are parted ever so slightly off to the side and, as he moves to certain angles under the dim lights of the lounge, you catch sight of the tattoos that cover his arm and are mostly always covered up. Up close, you can see features on his face that you would have otherwise misplaced, like the dainty point of his nose or the piercings on his ears or just how big his eyes truly are, giving him a more youthful appearance even though he is not much older than you as it is. You’re so mesmerized and too busy studying his dazzling attire to notice the fact that he speaks to you that it takes you a moment to respond.
“O━Oh, um, hi,” You force a smile on your face that is visibly so. You gulp back your nerves and straighten up, fighting for your voice. “What can I get you?”
“Just water is fine, actually,” he says and, goodness, why was his voice so smooth and luxurious?
You quirk a brow, the question tumbling from you before you can stop it. “You’re telling me that you came all the way down here for a glass of water that you can easily get at your home?”
Your mouth quickly snaps shut, as you’re suddenly fearful of having said something wrong, but the boy in front of you only chuckles and shrugs sheepishly.
“Ah, well, it’s a Wednesday night and I do have to work tomorrow,” he says.
He’s still smiling as he watches you and the sight has you nervous once more. To avoid his intense stare, you move to gather him a glass of water. It’s silent as you do so, the only sound coming from the other chatter of customers and the music that plays in the foreground. When you slide his drink over to him, his smile widens and he nods.
“Thanks.”
You nod timidly and try to distract yourself by cleaning once more. Not even before you can turn fully away from him, he’s speaking again.
“So, you know of me, huh?” he asks and then stops himself. “Sorry, that sounded very conceited of me. I’m just━ I don’t know. Surprised.”
“You’re quite the talk of the city,” You point out in a matter-of-fact tone and giggle. “It’s hard to not know who you are.”
Jungkook licks his lips and smiles almost bashfully. The sight seems so rare that it has you staring at him in wonder. His eyes flicked up to look at you past his long lashes and then he lifts his chin to properly face you. “Then who do I have the fortune of speaking to tonight?”
“Y/N,” You introduce, holding out a hand for him. “It’s most certainly a pleasure to meet you properly, sir.”
The boy takes your hand in his, his skin smooth and delicate, and then he does something you do not expect at all. He turns your palm over so that the back of your hand is facing him and he presses a small kiss to your knuckles that leaves tingles running down your spine.
“The pleasure’s all mine,” he says.
You must be entirely gawking at him again as he lets go of your hand because he laughs and straightens up in his seat, taking a sip of his water.
“I actually wanted to talk to you,” he says.
“M━Me?” You ask, still stunned. “Did you want to speak with Namjoon? He isn’t in right now but I can leave a note for you, if you want━”
“Oh, no, that won’t be necessary,” he replies, gently turning down your suggestion. “No, you were just the person I was hoping to find tonight.”
“Oh, really?” You question and Jungkook nods. “Then what can I do for you?”
The smile on his face shifts into a smirk and he pauses to take another sip of his water, leaving you in hanging anticipation. He sets his glass down and props his elbows up on the counter, leaning forward.
“I’ve come to offer you a proposition,” he says.
“A proposition?” You echo.
“Mhm, and it’s one I hope you don’t turn down,” he continues. “See, the other night on Saturday, I couldn’t help but overhear you talking to your boss about your shifts, or lack thereof, and━”
“You heard that?” You gasp, dismayed. “You were eavesdropping?”
“Not exactly,” Jungkook says. “I just so happened to stumble outside just as you were complaining.”
You eye him warily, folding your arms over your chest. “Okay, go on.”
“Well,” Jungkook begins, “I’m here to offer you a job but, I must warn you, it’s a very different kind of job.”
His words seem to intrigue you as you absentmindedly take a step closer to him, lowering your head to listen closely. You don’t reply back but, judging by the interested look on your face, Jungkook casually carries on. He locks gazes with you then, a hard unbreakable gaze that has you looking only at him as he utters his next few words.
“There’s no easy way to explain this that won’t make it seem indecent, but I can assure you that my intentions are pure,” he admits. “Have you ever heard of the term sugar baby?”
As soon as you hear the last of his words, you push yourself up and begin shaking your head furiously. “You want me to be your sugar baby?” You ask. The incredulous question has a blush pinching at your cheeks. “Are you nuts? I’m not that kind of girl. I’m not going to sleep with you even if you pay me━”
“Hear me out,” he says calmly and, for some odd reason, you pause. Your eyes narrow into a scrutinizing glare as you stare him down.
“Fine,” You say stiffly. “Keep talking.”
“It’s a crazy idea, I know,” he says. “And, sure, typically sugar babies are used for sex but I would never force myself on you or force you to do anything you wouldn’t want to. That’s a promise I’ll never break. I just figured that we can keep the companionship aspect of the whole thing and that’s it. Nothing more than having a person by my side.”
“I’m sure you can find plenty of girls to take that role,” You muse aloud.
“Sure,” he admits sheepishly, “but I’m asking you because I want you to be the one and because I know you need this money more than anyone else.”
You fall silent as you study him. He pulls out his phone then and begins to scroll through it almost too nonchalantly but you don’t necessarily mind. You are much too busy pondering his offer.
“But you don’t even know me,” You say at last.
“Also true,” he says, glancing up at you. “I guess you could say that’s another part of the reason why I’m asking you because I wouldn’t mind getting to know you. I mean, I see you all the time at this bar. I would have loved to come up and talk to you at any given moment but you always seemed so caught up in your work. Now I know why.”
Another silence ensues and he watches as you bite nervously on your lower lip. You rake a hand through your hair and sigh.
“How about this?” he asks, shifting in his seat to sit up straighter. “We try it out at least once to test the waters for an upcoming event where you’re my date. If you like it and want to keep going, great. If you absolutely hate it and hate me, then you can forget all about me and that I ever asked you this and I’ll leave you alone. Deal?”
“How do I know you’re not planning my murder?”
Jungkook smirks wolfishly. “That would be bad for business, love, and neither me nor my company needs that sort of attention in the press. So… What do you say?”
“I don’t know. It’s just… a lot. I have to think about it.”
Jungkook nods. “That’s understandable. Here━”
He shifts in his seat and pulls his wallet from his jeans. With a flourish, he procures a business card and slides it onto the table. Then, he gestures for a pen and, once you hand him the one you fish out from the apron tied around your waist, he scribbles his own personal number down on the back. He looks up at you with an ever so pretty smile, his eyes twinkling.
“Call me on this number whenever you decide.”
He doesn’t stay much longer after that. When he does leave, he makes sure to leave you a tip. A considerable sum of $500 in the form of a cheque. He’s long gone by the time you register the amount on the slip of paper and your name scribbled down. When the shock is gone, you tell yourself you can’t possibly take the cheque. But he knows that either way, whether you accept the cheque and his offer or try to return the money to him, you’ll call him one way or another. You realize this only on your way home from the lounge and shake your head at his conniving way. If there was one thing you have learnt during your time at the lounge, rich men always get what they want.
You aren’t entirely too sure what makes you cave. Maybe it’s the fact that, when you return home and are greeted to the looming notice papers, you are reminded that you so desperately need the money, or the fact that Jungkook is as charming and attractive as people say. Maybe it is the fact that he is quite obviously devoting his time and attention on solely you. Perhaps once won’t hurt after all. Then, if he stays true to his word and pays you handsomely, just enough for your rent, you never have to see him again. So the next morning, after a great deal of pensive pacing around your apartment, it is with one final hefty sigh that you call Jungkook. He answers on the third ring with a cordial, “Hello?”
“I can’t believe I’m saying this but fine. You have yourself a deal.”
Even without seeing his face, you can hear the smile in his voice, can see the way it must be tugging at his pink lips. “Ah, Y/N! Great!”
“What do you need me to do exactly?”
“Well, first thing’s first,” he says. “We need to set up some ground rules. First, I won’t try anything on you that you won’t like. Second, since this is technically still a job ━ and I know it’s going to sound ridiculous but stay with me ━ we need to be cautious about gaining romantic feelings for one another. It’ll just get in the way of everything, okay?”
“Okay. Whatever you say.”
“Good,” he says. “Then let’s jump right to it: I need you to be my date at this business dinner party that’s coming up. The logistics of the dinner party bore me. I know as much about it as you do, if I’m honest, but everyone ━ mostly my father ━ thinks it’ll be a good idea to bring a proper date. As if that’ll leave a good impression on these people we’re trying to win over. We’ll see about that.”
“When is it?” You ask.
“Three days from now.”
“Where?”
“Paris.”
“As in Paris, France?”
Jungkook hums in agreement a little too calmly for your liking. Your jaw drops open in surprise and you begin to sputter for air, stammering over your words.
“Jungkook,” You say his name sternly, laughing at just how ridiculous this request is. “This whole thing started because I have no money. I’m getting kicked out of my apartment ━ or did you miss that? What makes you think I have the money for a ticket to Paris?”
Now it’s Jungkook’s turn to bursts out into boisterous laughter, and he continues to laugh and laugh as if this is the funniest thing he has heard yet. You are left staring blankly at your wall, completely frazzled and stunned.
“God, you’re cute,” he sighs at long last. “Baby girl, I don’t think you quite understand the concept of this but that’s okay. We can work on it. Here, look. Check your phone━”
As he says this, your phone chimes pleasantly to notify you of a new message. Pulling your phone away from your face, you see a new text from Jungkook’s number: a screenshot of an email of a bank purchase, one that he confirms out loud with his confident words even when you feel your hands shaking in overwhelming anticipation.
“I already bought you a ticket as we were speaking,” he says. “We leave Friday.”
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The concept is entirely too hard to wrap your mind around, even after you sleep on it.
It’s like a dream come true, a fairy tale that people can only ever hope for, and it had fallen so perfectly into your very lap in the form of Jungkook. You pack the next night for Paris (which will only be a two day trip, according to Jungkook), the excitement and nerves finally kicking in and making you jittery and grin from ear-to-ear as you rummage around your apartment. He picks you up early the next morning in a chauffeured BMW before you’re both driven to the airport to fly in two first class seats to Paris. The whole thing is ludicrous but you can’t seem to get enough ━ even with the way he seems to act like a total gentleman by holding the car door open for you and holding your hand as he helps you onto the plane. From what you gather, he is kind and gentle and spends the time talking to you on the long flight to Paris in an attempt to help soothe your nerves when he sees you toying anxiously with your hands. You learn about his father and his company and he learns about your family and school life.
When you arrive in Paris, the streets are suddenly dazzling with a magic you have never seen before. From the architecture to the gardens to the grand tower in the distance, everything seems like a whimsical dream and you, the poor undeserving spectator, can’t possibly contain your excitement. In the chauffeured drive to your hotel, Jungkook watches you with amused eyes and chuckles under his breath when you gawk out the window at the passing city. Your accommodations for the getaway have already been paid for and includes a stay at the Four Seasons Hotel. It is simply marvelous, a palace sculpted so divinely out of white stone and marble in the lobby. The people are friendly, both the employees and other occupants, greeting you with warm smiles and generous gestures, but the atmospheric prestige is slightly nerve-wrecking.
Jungkook pays for your room which is the luxurious Royal Suite, a room much larger than you truly need but, god, do you love it. There’s a spacious living room, a foyer, a marble fireplace and a dining table, the master bedroom accompanied by an all marble bathroom, and private terrace with a view of the surrounding city and the Eiffel tower in the near distance, so close it feels as if you can reach out and touch it. Everything is adorned in gold and ivory furnishing, white plush cushions and bedding with teal accents, white flowers and exceptional pieces of decorations. Jungkook is still with you when he guides you into the suite but he doesn’t speak and nor do you. Instead, he watches as you stare in awe at the overwhelmingly large room and the lavish paintings and furniture that are placed perfectly around, and the platter of macaroons and a bottle of Dom Perignon champagne in an ice bucket atop the glass coffee table. He watches even as you throw yourself to the terrace door, beaming outside at the beautiful view.
“Like it?” he asks, his lips curling upward faintly in an amused smile.
“Like it?” You repeat, astonished. You turn to face him and can’t contain the squeal that bubbles at your lips. You fling yourself down onto the plush sofa nearest you and sigh dreamily as you look up at the boy who is suppressing his chuckles. “I’m in love, Jungkook. I definitely don’t deserve this━”
“Don’t say that,” Jungkook frowns, interrupting you quickly. “Of course you deserve this. I’m glad you’re enjoying it so far. That’s what I want to hear.”
You push yourself up to sit on the couch and cross your legs beneath you. You gaze up at Jungkook, gnawing nervously on your lower lip. “I just feel like you could have found a better person to replace me. I mean, I don’t even know where to start with repaying you.”
“There’s no need to repay me,” Jungkook says. “That’s the whole point of this ordeal. All I want from you is to be my side when I need you. You owe no debt to me. Just keep enjoying yourself, yeah?”
You nod timidly and he smiles. He notices you shift in your seat to stand up once more and he swiftly holds out his hand for you in an ever gentleman-like way. You take it graciously and pull yourself up and then he does it again, lifting your twined hands to his lips to press a tender kiss to your knuckles. He keeps his lips pressed to your skin for a second too long and it has you blushing madly before he finally releases your hand once more.
“It’s late,” he says. “You should get some rest. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow. Set an early alarm, okay? I have something else for you that I want to show you before the dinner party.”
“Sounds like a plan,” You hum almost absentmindedly as your attention is suddenly averted back to the room that you can’t seem to get enough of.
“Sweet dreams, Y/N,” he smiles.
He begins retreating back to the door of the room but stops when he hears you call his name, your voice so distant and faint, soft and gentle and loving, that it makes his heart skip a beat.
“Thank you for everything so far, Jungkook.”
Jungkook notices the irreplaceable smile on your face and it’s so genuine and heartwarming that it has the exact same smile mirroring on his face. He nods once more, understanding, before giving you a sly wink and walking out the door. You don’t stay awake much longer after that, the jitters and excitement eventually soothing into something soft that lulls you to sleep
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You aren’t entirely sure what Jungkook has planned for the next morning but you are most definitely not disappointed.
He comes by your room around 10:00 am, a light rap of his knuckles against the door signalling his arrival. He’s dressed casual today and it, for once during the duration of the time that you’ve been with him, doesn’t make you feel bad for wearing just as casual clothing. He takes you to a café just down the street from the hotel for breakfast and then he walks with you through the streets of Paris, past all the people and hectic life. When you finally arrive at your destination, your jaw drops open in complete unregistered shock because you realize he’s taking you shopping ━ and shopping not just anywhere but the Champs-Élysées and down Avenue Montaigne where all the leading couture designers are. He pulls you into a certain shop with designer and brand name formal wear, dresses and suits of all sorts of materials and lengths lining the walls, shelves, and dressing mannequins.
“I figured we could go shopping for something for you to wear tonight,” he says. “It’s your pick. See anything that catches your attention?”
You snort a bit ungracefully, your fingers running over the silky material of a scarlet red Valentino dress decorating a mannequin near you.
“Yeah, all of it,” You say, your fingers plucking the price tag of the dress and gawking at it. “But not for that price. I’d have to take out another loan from the bank if I’d want to buy this and I’m still paying off my tuition fees.”
Jungkook laughs lightly at your dry remarks and places his hand on the small of your back with such ease that it catches you by surprise.
“Baby girl,” he hums, and the small pet name is enough to make your heart flutter, “I’m buying it for you. Go ahead. Run wild in here. We can get a consultant to help you if you want.”
“I’m going to need more than a consultant to deal with all this,” You say. “It’s making my head spin. If I’m dreaming, please don’t pinch me.”
He smirks, giving you a shake of his head. “I can assure you that you aren’t dreaming. Go on. If you see anything you like, don’t be afraid to tell me. Today is all about you.”
And Jungkook doesn’t lie. Though it feels so wrong to be so spoiled and pampered, you find yourself basking in all of it ━ from the way Jungkook follows behind you as you study every piece of clothing and waits patiently as you try on dress after dress, to the way the employees that work there fawn over your body and the way you model the dress “just perfectly,” to the way they serve you bubbling champagne in crystal flute glasses. It’s all about you, and it’s never felt so good.
It doesn’t stop there. Jungkook takes you to shop after shop, boutique after boutique, until you find a dress that you take quite a liking to. It’s a floor length Alberta Ferretti velvet midnight blue, almost black, gown, the seams of which hugging your body and curves in all the right places. It’s a slightly off-the-shoulder dress, with a heart-shaped scoop neckline and a slit on one side of the dress that runs far up the smooth expanse of your leg to end mid-thigh. It’s the dress you pick because it’s the only dress that seems to garner such a unique reaction from Jungkook. It’s one where he forgets his words momentarily, gazing at you as if you were made of pure gold, because, holy shit, he’s never seen anything so beautiful before. He can’t speak whilst you model the dress for him and the consultant, twirling around and around in front of the mirrors to admire your own figure, because he doesn’t want to miss a single thing about just how gorgeous you look in it.
He doesn’t tell you but, when you decide on that dress, he couldn’t have been any happier.
Even after finding the dress, Jungkook still continues to take you shopping, promising to buy you any other article of clothing or piece of jewelry that catches your attention, though you try to tame your desires as you begin to feel a bit too spoiled. Jungkook doesn’t mind, of course. He never seems to mind. Eventually, after he takes you back to the hotel with all black Christian Louboutin ankle strap heels and a glittering Tiffany necklace and earrings for the dress, he leaves you alone to get ready for the dinner. When he meets you once more at your suite, it is later in the evening and the sun outside has just begun to set. He enters your room looking as if he has just walked out from a Renaissance painting or was sculpted by the Grecians himself in marble stone because of just how divine he looks. He’s adorned in yet another Armani suit, a dark charcoal that is almost ebony black, and his hair is combed and parted neatly to the side. There’s no need to even look at him to know he is already handsome, but something about that night makes his features more prominent.
You’re still in the bathroom when he does enter your room, calling out to you with a, “Y/N? You ready? We need to get going soon.”
He hears your voice carry from the bathroom, light and feathery, and though it is muffled, he can make it out to sound like, “Just a sec!”
So, Jungkook waits. He’s suddenly nervous as he does, fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeves and the hem of his suit jacket, when he hears the bathroom door click open. He hears the clinking of your heels as you walk towards him and then time seems to slow down in a sort of entirely cliche way because all he can focus on is you. And, god, you’re beautiful. If Jungkook is to you only a man-made beauty of Renaissance and Ancient Greek art, then you are to him made up of the stars and the moon and sun, carved divinely from the very hands of the universe itself and kissed all over by enchanting Mother Nature. You are radiant, you are natural, genuine, breathtaking, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. He is far too caught up with the way you look to even pay attention to your words, that only hit him in disoriented white noise.
“Jungkook?” You wave a hand in his face. “Can you zip me up?”
“What?” Jungkook seems to snap out of his daze and shakes his head suddenly. “Oh, right! Sorry, of course. Come here.”
You do, closing the distance between him and you with a wobbly flourish on your heels and turn your back to him. Jungkook gulps as he sees the zipper of the dress hanging low on your back. With cold hands, he begins to pull the zipper up, but he doesn’t seem to notice the way goosebumps run down your spine when you feel the ghost of his touch. When he’s done, you turn to face him once more and place your hands on your hips. Your hair and makeup are perfectly done and the glittering jewellery you wear all makes you look like such an elegant star.
“Well?” You ask. “What do you think? Is it too much? I don’t really know, to be honest. Or am I too underdressed? Oh god, I don’t know━”
“You’re beautiful,” Jungkook says abruptly.
Your cheeks are tinted pink at his compliment and you look down bashfully. He reaches out for your hand and you take it carefully only to have him raise your clasped palms above your head.
“Spin for me, love.”
You obediently follow his command, anxious under his watchful eyes. They drift down and up and then back down and up again to take in your full figure and he sighs under his breath. When you’re facing him again, there is a hint of a smile on his face and his pupils are glistening.
“Magnificent,” he breathes. “My goodness, baby girl, all eyes are going to be on you and only you tonight. I think I’m going to need to keep a watchful eye on you and make sure you don’t ditch me for another man before I can even get to know you better.”
You shake your head at him as he softly drops your hand from his. You inattentively reach out to grab at his already perfectly kempt tie, straightening it from beneath his collar.
“I wouldn’t worry about that,” You giggle. “I don’t plan on going anywhere anytime soon, Jungkook.”
And Jungkook smiles.
Another chauffeured ride picks the two of you up at the hotel (this time a sleek black Mercedes) and drives you all the way to the Hotel Plaza Athénée, in which one of Jungkook’s associates have rented out the entire restaurant attached to it simply for the cause of their business dinner. Jungkook is the one who gets out of the car first and holds your door open, taking your hand to help you out and hooking arms with you as he guides you inside to the restaurant that you can only describe as a winter wonderland, made upon white furnishing and a magnificent crystal chandelier that resembles falling stars or snowflakes frozen in time.
The party isn’t nearly as terrible as you had thought. It begins awkwardly and you feel uncomfortable, shifting your weight from one heel to the other, and clinging desperately onto Jungkook, but the partygoers are friendly. They talk to you without a problem, introducing themselves with big smiles and welcoming you into their small lavish circle. The party continues on rather pleasantly, though you thank the glasses of red wine you are constantly consuming to not only help pass the time and soothe your nerves, but to distract the rich men and women around you long enough so you can breathe without feeling scrutinized.
By the time the night is coming to a close, you and Jungkook are equally as drunk off of expensive wine and champagne, and say a reasonable farewell to the other guests before leaving back to the hotel. You don’t leave Jungkook’s side, and perhaps that is because your intoxicated mind is suddenly buzzing with thoughts and your bloodstream is pumping with adrenaline because you are wide awake. You end up back in his room, both of you lounging out on the perfectly made bed, sharing yet another bottle of wine (that Jungkook had ordered from room service) between the two of you, giggling and chatting well into the night.
There is a moment where the late hour of the night and the alcohol seems to finally get to you and Jungkook; where the two of you are simply sprawled out on the bed in a comfortable silence. Your eyes begin to itch with the heavy need for sleep and you find yourself slipping in and out of your stream of consciousness, the fact that you are still confined to the tight dress you wear completely vanishing from your mind. It’s then that it seems to hit you - the whole ordeal with Jungkook and the fact that you are in Paris, wearing clothes that most certainly cost as much as your tuition - and it comes in waves of overwhelming and bursting joy and gratefulness.
“Jungkook,” You hum sleepily, catching the boy’s attention. “I’m serious when I say thank you for everything. It’s just so- so amazing and I want you to know that.”
“I know,” Jungkook says. “I believe you.”
You shift in your spot to stare up at him. He’s reclining beside you, a hand propped behind his head, and he is gazing up at the ceiling before looking over at you. He smiles softly.
“I just don’t want you to think you’re making a mistake by spending all this money on someone like me ━ as if I’m some sort of basket case,” You say. “So if you want to be brutally honest with me and never want to speak to me again after this, please just tell me now so I don’t have to wait to be rejected.”
He quirks a brow, examining your features as if to decipher your words.
“Is that what you think this is all about?” he asks finally. “The rich boy trying to do his moral duty by giving away his money? I’m helping you because I like you and because I don’t want to see someone as sweet and gentle as you being kicked out on the streets. I like you, all of you, and that’s not going to change. I’m not going anywhere.”
He finds you smiling, bright and cheery, your eyes twinkling beautifully. You do not know what compels you to move next ━ possibly the alcohol clouding your mind or the fact that Jungkook is sitting before you, as handsome as ever even at three in the morning ━ but then you are pushing yourself forward, leaning toward him and pressing your mouth against his for a sudden kiss. All you can focus on is the soft plump of his lips, laced with the taste of bittersweet wine and his intoxicating cologne, and it makes you pur with delight.
The action has Jungkook completely shocked but he doesn’t push you away. If anything, he begins to get carried away, but so do you. Suddenly, neither of you seem to be able to get enough of the taste of each other’s lips. You feel his tongue poke against your mouth, grazing your lower lip sensually, practically begging for entrance, and you part your mouth with ease, welcoming all of him. He kisses you slowly, yearning for more, but then the intensity of the kiss heats up. Your tongues dance together in a sloppy wet kiss, teeth clashing together in a desperate and needy fashion, lips smacking roughly against each other’s and igniting flames in every joint of your body. You react without thinking, wiggling around on the bed until you’re lifting yourself up and straddling his hips, sitting back on his thighs.
You’re grasping eagerly at him, tugging at the strands of hair at the nape of his neck, as his own hands come to rest upon your hips, pulling you against him. He parts from your lips then to pepper kisses down to your jawline and neck, where he licks a clean stripe upward. His lips wrap around the delicate skin there and he sucks, something that earns him a moan from yourself. You keen on him in content and jut your hips forward, silently urging him on for more. His breath hitches in his throat but, when you roll your hips against his once more, he moans into your neck.
“Baby girl,” he grunts. “If you keep doing that, I won’t be able to hold myself back.”
You smirk as you nip at his neck, making him growl. “Don’t hold back. I don’t want you to.”
Tingles run down his spine at the way your lips brush against his skin and he tugs you closer to him. He is so absorbed in the wholeness that is you that he can hardly grasp onto a reasonable thought. Especially not when you’re moaning against his neck with a slight whine of, “Fuck, Jungkook, I need you so bad.”
It takes all that he can in him to not cave at your touch and he shifts beneath your weight, gnawing on his lower lip. You can feel the bulge in his pants begin to brush against your inner thigh and the sensation against your throbbing core suddenly excites you. You roll your hips once more against him as you smash your mouth against his for a passionate kiss. It’s messy and eager and hot and you don’t plan on stopping. You think Jungkook has the same intentions with the way he is stifling his moans into the form of grunts and groans, his fingers digging tightly into your skin enough to make you gasp, but then his hold becomes ironclad and he stops your movements with ease.
“No, baby girl, we can’t,” he whispers against your lips.
You lean back on his lap and look at him curiously, admiring the way his lips are bruised red and the way his neck is suddenly marked raw. “Why not?”
Jungkook finds it hard to focus as you run your hands up his chest and back down, your fingertips dancing on the top of his belt. He grabs your hand then, twining your fingers together as he usually does and shaking his head gently.
“Not now,” he says. “I said I wouldn’t force you to do anything you don’t want.”
“But I do want this,” You insist. You lean forward to kiss him once more, moaning in pleasure. “God, I want this so much.”
Jungkook smiles weakly. His hand comes up to grasp gingerly at your cheek and he makes you look at him with delicate gestures.
“You’re drunk. I’m drunk,” he says. “Sometimes people make the wrong decisions when they’re drunk. I don’t want you to regret this when you wake up in the morning, even if you insist right now that you won’t. Okay?”
You sit back on his lap once more, dumbfounded and, albeit, slightly let down, but there’s a part of you that is thankful for Jungkook’s sudden decision. You relent at once, somehow letting a reasonable thought in your mind tell you that Jungkook is right, and you nod.
“Sorry,” You sigh and then yawn. “You’re right. I’m just━ just tired.”
Jungkook nods understandingly, and pecks your forehead gently, a gesture that is enough to leave your head spinning. You push yourself off of him and plop onto the bed with a heavy exhale of air as soon as your head hits the pillow. Once it does, you find it incredibly hard to keep your eyes open and Jungkook smiles lightly. It’s the candid genuinity that makes Jungkook’s heart swell.
“Why don’t you sleep here?” he suggests. “I’ll sleep in your room for the night if you want, or on the couch━”
He’s already standing to his feet when you stop him.
“Wait, Jungkook,” You mumble. When you speak next, your voice is an involuntary drunk whine, “This dress is so uncomfortable━ I just━”
He sees you struggling to reach the zipper of the dress and chuckles under his breath.
“Let me help you, baby,” he hums, his hands brushing against yours as he thwarts your attempts. “Just rest.”
You begin to argue, sounding very similar to a needy child, but Jungkook simply hushes you. In your drunken tired state, you don’t seem nearly as flustered as Jungkook is as he unzips your dress very slowly and the feeling is so foreign that it has Jungkook’s nerves mingling with fear. He’s undressed a girl plenty of times and never once has he been this timid. He finds it hard to focus his eyes elsewhere when he has you shimmying out of the dress because, Jesus, did you have to wear black lace panties with a matching strapless bra? You’re nearly stripped bare before him and he gulps as his eyes flicker down fleetingly over your body and your feminine curves. Before he can linger any longer, he is grabbing one of his plain t-shirts that is hanging off the back of a nearby armchair and slips it over your head and body with such soothing motions and all Jungkook can focus on now is just how cute you look in his shirt, your lips parted slightly, and your hair a hectic mess.
By the time your head hits the pillow once more, Jungkook can hear your tiny snores, and he can’t bring himself to shake you awake to help you into a pair of his sweatpants. Instead, he reaches for the blankets below you and tosses it over your figure and you shift, pushing yourself onto your side and nuzzling your head further into the pillow. As he is straightening up and exhaling a breath of air, he feels a small tug at his hand. He looks down then only to see your hand grasping at his fingertips and hears you mumble, through slurring words and a curtain of hair that crowds your mouth, “Stay.”
Jungkook knows it’s a terrible idea. He knows, deep down, just how badly this is affecting him with all these strange nerves coming to light and with just how easily he seems to give in to your demand. He smiles tenderly once more and nods, despite sighing under his breath.
“Of course, baby,” he whispers. “I’ll stay right here. Go back to sleep, okay?”
You don’t reply, but he doesn’t necessarily need you to. The serenity that is your slumbering face is enough for him and so he changes into a comfortable shirt and sweatpants before slipping under the sheets with you where he falls asleep without trouble. When he wakes in the morning, he finds that your limbs are tangled messily with his and you are pressed closed to his chest, his own arm slung over your waist, and he decides, in that moment, that he made the right choice after all.
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You return from Paris feeling refreshed, strangely, and your heart yearning for another magical getaway to a foreign city.
As if buying you the items he did in Paris wasn’t enough, Jungkook gives you yet another check of money for your time and it is surely enough to make your heart stop altogether. You aren’t quite sure how he knows, but he gives you just the right money to pay for your rent, and then some. It doesn’t just surprise you, but your landlord is at a loss for words when he sees you hand him a sealed envelope with the money you still owe him that very Tuesday, though he doesn’t question it.
Your encounters with Jungkook don’t stop there.
For some reason, you convince yourself to stay with the deal a little longer (perhaps a little selfishly, though you do admit you enjoy the company of Jungkook), but you have also convinced yourself that he’ll disappear, vanish without a trace, after returning from Paris. Fortunately, he doesn’t disappear, and he doesn’t act as if your relationship with him is simply just a job. You find him opening up to you, talking to you as a friend would, and you, in turn, find yourself falling more and more under his charm. Sometimes, he needs you for important business dinners or weddings or polo matches and other gatherings he’s invited to and, each time you go, he pays you fully in return. He always tells you such social events make these businessmen who they are, as if it were all one elaborate game. Other times, he invites you to do the simplest of tasks with him. When it first happens, only a week or two after Paris, you’re lounging in a relaxing bath late one Friday evening and you receive a text from the boy that simply says something along the lines of, “Are you busy? I could really use you right now. Come over if you can.”
Then, shortly after, he sends you another message that asks you, simply, to bring a swimsuit if you have one. The ambiguity and peculiarity of his message, as well as the fear of making sure you don’t disappoint him (but also, quite possibly, the chance to just see him), makes you scurry out of your bath and rush to get changed before chasing out the door. You hadn’t been to his home before then but he texts you his address after you reply that you are on your way and it doesn’t come as a surprise when you see he lives in one of the fancier parts of downtown. The address he gives you leads you straight to a high-rise complex in Midtown Manhattan. The subtly grand lobby is still overwhelming and the doorman and concierge greet you formally as you walk by. Jungkook’s abode, naturally, is the luxury penthouse located at the very top of the building and, walking past the other employees and residents to reach the elevator, makes you feel ashamed of the tight yoga pants and oversized shirt you wear (though no one is actually looking).
You wait anxiously in the elevator and walk the short distance to his entrance as soon as the elevator doors slide open to his floor. Earlier he had sent you a text that instructed you to just simply walk in and so you cautiously press open the front door of the penthouse. It swings wide open and your jaw drops at the stunning view before you. From what you can see, there are two floors to the penthouse, and the main floor has the very outer wall made of ceiling-to-floor glass window panes that look down onto the bustling city below. It is spacious and lavishly furnished and all you know is that your tiny apartment pales in comparison to this. You take a step inside and let the door shut behind you and, as soon as it clicks into place, a chirp of a bark makes you jump. Dashing straight out of a room and charging straight for you is a small white dog, yapping along the way at the newcomer that is you. Your face instantly lights up at the sight and, as the dog begins jumping and barking by your feet, you bend over to scoop him up in your arms, scratching just behind his ears.
“And who are you, cutie?” You coo. “How could Jungkook keep someone like you a secret from me?”
The dog twists in your hold and begins licking at your chin, earning an eruption of giggles from you as you try and gently push him away.
“I see you’ve met Gureum.”
Your head snaps up at the sound of Jungkook’s voice.  He’s standing near a corner he had just turned, leaning casually against the wall. The grin on his face is undeniably strong as he watches you cradle his dog in your arms. He pushes himself off the wall and takes leisurely strides towards you.
“He’s been by my side ever since I was a teen,” he says. “He’s a pretty loyal dog, y’know, and he and I have this special bond going on so I just needed to make sure you were worthy enough to be introduced to him, otherwise I would have told you sooner.”
You burst out into laughter and shake your head. “Well, I’m glad I passed the test and was worthy enough to meet him. Gureum, hm?” You pause and glance back down at the dog. “It means cloud, right? A cute name for a cute pup. I think we’ll get along just fine.”
You plant a kiss on Gureum’s face and then place him down on the ground where he immediately darts off to grab a toy before tottering back. You straighten up to look at Jungkook and gesture around his home.
“Nice place you got here,” You say. “Need a roommate?”
“You want to live together already?” he teases. “You have to at least let me take you out on a few more dates before we get that serious.”
You chuckle lightly and the sound is so silvery and sweet that it makes Jungkook’s heart sing. He is watching you with admiration as you kick off your shoes and begin walking further into his apartment.
“So, what did you want from me tonight?” You asked. “Your text seemed a little urgent.”
“Oh, right,” Jungkook says. He begins following after you and shrugs. “Well, I was going to ask you if you could be my date for an upcoming event. It’s a charity gala ball that my parents and the company will be endorsing in a few months time. It’s fairly a big deal and my father thinks it’ll be good for publicity, again, if I have a proper date by my side since I’ll be hosting the night of the gala and saying a speech.”
“Of course I’ll come with you,” You say. “But did you really have to tell me to come all the way here just to say that?”
Jungkook bursts out into laughter. “I know I could have done that over the phone but, truthfully, I really just wanted to spend a little more time with you. Now that our business talk is out of the way, how does a pizza and movie night sound to you?”
He flings himself down onto the couch nearby and lounges out on it, staring up at you with a look of anticipation. You can’t help but quirk a brow, biting your lower lip to hide the smile that threatens to paint your face.
“You just wanted to spend time with me?” You echo. “So you called me over for pizza and a movie?”
Jungkook nods, beaming up at you. “What do you say?”
“I’ll stay only if you let me have first pick of the movie.”
He pushes himself up to sit (at which point, Gureum takes the liberty of jumping up to sit in his owner’s lap and Jungkook casually threads his fingers through the dog’s fur) and grins, “You can pick every movie we watch.”
“Well, then, if that’s the case━” You plop down next to him on the couch and wiggle around until you’re comfortably positioned. “A pizza and movie night sounds absolutely divine.”
“Good,” he says. “Because I already ordered the pizza while you were on your way here.”
You throw your head back and moan a bit too excessively but it only makes Jungkook laugh. “You spoil me rotten, you know that?”
He shrugs sheepishly and shoots you a wink that has your heart leaping in your chest. He leans in close with a wicked smirk on his face and hums, “Only the best for my baby girl. And, of course while you’re here, we can take a dip in the pool.”
“So that’s what you meant by the cryptic swimsuit text,” You giggle. “I’d love to go for a swim. This apartment’s pool must be amazing.”
“Oh, yes, that one is quite spectacular but I was thinking we could stay within the comfort of my home.”
He says this so simply that you almost don’t register his words. Then it seems to dawn on you the meaning behind his words and you are gawking in pure amazement. “Are you telling me you have a pool in your penthouse?”
Jungkook smirks humorously. “Is it too much?”
You can’t help but shake your head at the cocky tone that twines with his words. A small, bemused thought pops into your head that begs the question just what have you gotten yourself into? A month ago, you would have never been able to imagine living such a life and yet here you are, as Jungkook so graciously had invited you into his own personal world.
Soon enough, you’re standing by the edge of the pool in Jungkook’s home ━ and, yes, he really does have his own personal pool. Tucked away on the second floor of his penthouse, high above the city of New York, like his own perfect little oasis. When you see it, when you’re dressed in nothing but a red bikini standing on the edge of the pool, it feels like a dream. The buildings of Manhattan tower around the penthouse, dazzling with lit windows that shine their soft glow onto the rippling surface of the pool. Somewhere far below you can hear the sound of the city breathing, living; of a distant wailing siren and the squeal of a tire and a blaring horn. And, when you look above, it feels as if you’re so close to the sky that you could reach out and touch the hiding stars.
Jungkook, who is behind you and watching the look of awe paint your face, will smile to himself and then he will give you one playful nudge that pushes you into the pool with a gratifying splash and a yelp of startle on your part that you know will fade into nothing to the people far down below when you’re up this high. He’ll join you in the pool and you’ll sit with him in the serene space, sipping on a bottle of wine and enjoying the pizza he had ordered.
Up there, so high above Manhattan, it feels as if you have the whole world in the palm of your hand and you tell yourself that if this really is a dream, you never want to wake up from it.
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After that night, it isn’t uncommon for Jungkook to text or call you with equally vague messages, asking you to come over to this apartment only to embark on the utmost mundane things. Once, he calls you asking for your help and, when you rush to his apartment, he is debating which flavour ice cream he should bring out for yet another movie night you spend together. Another time, he calls you to accompany him on his walk with Gureum, or to help him buy groceries, or be his extra food critic when he decides to order takeout from a new restaurant.
Each time he calls or texts you, each time he asks you to rush over only for something minor, he ends up paying you in cheques and still spoils you with “little” gifts every now and then, like a watch one night, a pair of diamond earrings another, a shirt you had been eyeing at the store one day when he and you had passed by a boutique while walking Gureum. Though the money and gifts are, by no means, any less valuable or less cherished than they already are by you, your sudden time alone with Jungkook becomes something much more than just material pleasure. When it’s just you and him, curled up next to one another on his couch as you watch the flickering images of the movie play out before you, whether basking in the silence or laughing together until you cry, those moments become precious and sacred and you find yourself enjoying his company much more than his money or gifts.
Your relationship with him carries on like this for weeks upon weeks, until three months seem to pass, though it certainly doesn’t feel like it at all (especially when you are consumed with finishing school). The money he gives you, as well as the money you earn from both jobs you still work, is enough for you to keep paying your rent and your loans off, long after you’ve graduated from school (another celebration that Jungkook so graciously attends and earns strange looks from your friends and family when they see just how close the two of you are). As a gift for your graduation, Jungkook calls you late one evening when you are relaxing in a warm bubble bath. When you answer the call, cradling your phone between your ear and shoulder, he greets you with, “How do you feel about Italy?”
You quirk a brow. “It’s beautiful. I’ve always wanted to go there. Why are you asking?”
“Well, yes, it is quite beautiful,” he says. “But how do you feel about going to Italy? Say, tomorrow morning?”
You nearly drop your phone into the bath when you register his question. You sit up rather quickly, as if that will help steady you against the tremendous question. “Is it for a business thing?”
“Just an us thing,” he says. “To celebrate your graduation.”
He already knows your answer, as do you. Yet you still sputter over your words and then, with a sheepishly large smile plastered on your face, exclaim your approval of the spontaneous trip.
In the morning, Jungkook will come to pick you up in yet another chauffeured drive, much like it had been for the trip to Paris. This time he decides to take you to the Amalfi Coast, a coastal town in southern Italy. You land in Naples and rent a car from the airport (a Lamborghini, to be exact) which Jungkook and you take turns driving with the roof down, the wind in your hair. The narrow winding roads on the sides of the coastal cliff seem to be no match for the exhilarating speed of the car and much of the drive is spent soaking up the rays of the warm sun. The quaint town of the Amalfi Coast is built upon the sides of the steep cliff with small alleyways, cobblestoned streets, blossoming lemon trees, and colourful buildings that spiral down, down, down, to the rocky shores of the beach and the sparkling cerulean waters of the sea. The villa Jungkook rents has a luxurious view of the sea. It’s all shimmering white and ivory and cobalt blue detailings, all culminating in one magnificently breathtaking oasis.
The first day in the town is spent on the beach, and the evening is spent wandering about the streets with you in a sheer white and floral Zimmermann sundress courtesy of Jungkook, sipping on limoncello and eating dinner at an outdoor restaurant as the bright sky fades to night. The streets are just as lively as ever with tourists and distant music, the town glowing softly with its burning lights and candles against the starry sky, and everything is simply perfect. Whimsical. The next day is spent with Jungkook’s friends. You’ve seen them before in passing at other social events you have accompanied with Jungkook and, unbeknownst to you at the time, at the lounge when Jungkook and his friend had stumbled upon your talk with your manager. You come to learn that this same friend is Park Jimin, a wealthy man not much older than Jungkook himself, who is built upon old money and whose family owns a chain of successful global hotels and resorts. Jimin invites the pair of you to a day on his yacht out at sea with a few of his other closest friends.
The yacht itself is quite a spectacle, with three floors to it and a personal pool located on the deck, as well as a bar and a lounge area. You spend most of your time sipping on piña coladas and sunbathing in the glittering sun atop the deck, adorned in a Proenza Schouler black swimsuit and a wide-brimmed sun hat. Jungkook’s friends, you come to find, aren’t as insouciant as Jungkook himself but also aren’t as arrogant as the customers you have encountered at your work at the lounge back in Manhattan. Whatever the case, they are nice enough to invite you into their group and make certain you feel as welcome as you can. When Jimin decides to take the cabin cruiser for a spin around the sea, you stand at the bow of the deck, your hands clasped tightly on the back of your hat so as to keep it from flying away, and laugh spritely as Jimin speeds around in wide circles with the sea’s mist dusting across your face.
At some point, the cabin cruiser comes to a halt, softly rocking against the gentle current of the sea. Jimin is the first one to jump into the water, followed by yourself, and a few other of their friends. When Jungkook joins you in the shimmering ethereal blue waters, the smile on your face is irreplaceable and one that makes a similar grin form on his face. The cool water is a relief against your skin which had, up until that point, been warm with the sticky heat of the day. Jungkook is by your side in an instant, just a short distance away from the cruiser and his other friends. By the time he joins you, you’re positively beaming, bursting with joy, and entirely overwhelmed with appreciation for the kindness of Jungkook and the beauty of Italy.
“Enjoying yourself?” he asks humorously. Of course he doesn’t need an answer ━ not when you are so clearly content and at peace.
“Jungkook,” You sigh his name dreamily. “I’ve never been happier.”
He smiles gingerly. “I believe you.”
“I still don’t want you to think you’re making a mistake by spending all this money on someone like me,” You say.
He quirks a brow, examining your features as if to decipher your words, and squints past the sun.
“That’s still what you think?” he asks finally. “That I regret all the time we’ve been spending together? Because you’d be wrong. When I first asked you about all of this, I did it because I wanted to help you, because I like you. And all our time spent together since then… It’s been incredible.”
“You really mean that?” You ask timidly.
“Of course I do,” he says. “Look, when I’m with you, things feel different.”
“Is that a good thing?”
“Good. Definitely good.”
You catch his gaze on you and, despite all the money and glory he has to his name, he looks at you unlike he has looked to anything else before. As if you’re worth far more than all the gold jewelry and diamonds and pretty coastal towns and designer clothes he has ever seen. As if you’re the whole world and more, right in front of him, under the glittering Italian sun. His eyes then flicker from yours, down to your lips, and you certainly don’t miss it. There’s a tiny voice in the back of your mind that begs you desperately to kiss him. Maybe he’s feeling the same way because, slowly, your faces inch towards one another.
He comes so close, in fact, that you can feel his breath fanning against your neck, can smell the sea’s salt on his skin and the faded scent of his cologne. You come so close to one another that it, perhaps, becomes a little too dangerous. Before anything can happen, Jimin is calling out to the two of you and you both instantly freeze. Jungkook laughs almost sheepishly and you can’t help but join in. Still, even as the day unfolds and you become distracted with every other beautiful detail of the Amalfi Coast, you can’t help but wonder what would have happened had you and Jungkook not been interrupted by Jimin.
And, by the end of the night when you’ve both tucked in for the night in the villa, the realization dawns on you that you, quite possibly, are falling in love with Jungkook.
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Just when you believe things are going impeccably well, the bitterness of reality finally seems to settle in.
A few weeks after your stay in Italy, Jimin invites both Jungkook and you to a party he is hosting at his family hotel in Seoul. Most of the night unfurls smoothly, with you adorned magnificently in a cream-coloured Alexander Wang slip dress and Jungkook in a Saint Laurent dress shirt, lounging by the bar near the lobby of the hotel and sipping on martinis. Jimin’s hotel is full of a type of grandeur that resembles a palace with its elegant ornate decorations and ebony wood carvings. Seoul itself is as spectacular as ever, the metropolis towering around you and all illuminated by the city’s lights. Yet all of this and Jungkook still focuses only on you, his voice low and charming over the soft thump of music, and his eyes twinkling mischievously.
Some time during the night, Jimin begins chatting to you and Jungkook disappears. At first he is chatting to an old confidant but, when you turn to look at him the next time, you find him with another girl at the bar, seemingly flirting with her. Whatever the case, they appear to be rather cozy with one another, and though you know you have no warrant to be jealous, it still creeps upon you without warning and sabotages your night. You try to avert your attention, try to chat with Jungkook’s friends, and flirt with other rich entrepreneurs but nothing seems to distract you long enough ━ not until Jimin mentions something that grabs your attention.
“You know,” he muses pensively. He pauses to take a sip of his cognac and then says, “I’ll admit: I’m surprised you and Jungkook have lasted so long.”
“What do you mean?” You ask.
“Well, it’s not like you two are dating, right?” When you continue to stare up at Jimin with a dumbfounded expression, he continues. “The only reason Jungkook confronted you in the first place was because his parents were pissed at him. Something about him tarnishing their name by his ‘free’ lifestyle, if you will. They got mad at him and his rampaging bachelor ways, having flings with random strangers every other weekend in a foreign city. His parents are really stuck in their old-school mentality; they just don’t want Jungkook to drag the wrong kind of people into the family money and business. They would have even gone so far as to kick him from being CEO of their company.”
“They what?”
“Oh, yeah,” Jimin says. “Didn’t he tell you? That’s partly what the charity gala is for. His father doesn’t think Jungkook will be able to settle down anytime soon. He’s been under a lot of scrutiny. Jungkook was considerably worried there for a moment; I’ve never seen him like that before. I suggested he fall from the limelight for a bit but he thought he could fix all of this. I guess that’s where you came in. I didn’t think Jungkook would last long constantly being tied down but he’s certainly proved me wrong.”
He chuckles then, as if this whole thing was quite amusing to him. Though you aren’t quite sure how to react. You knew Jungkook wanted you to be his date at important social events for good publicity, but it never dawned on you that he could only be using you for his own sake. Maybe it didn’t mean anything. Maybe Jungkook had simply forgotten to tell you, but that just felt as if you are uselessly grasping at excuses. Either way, it slowly begins to dawn on you the whole ordeal of your relationship with Jungkook and, suddenly, you feel used.
You tell yourself Jimin’s words shouldn’t have meant anything anyway because it’s not as if you and Jungkook are dating but you can’t deny the fact that they leave a lasting impression on you. But that’s how it had all started, hadn’t it? Or maybe not. Jungkook had approached you on the basis of needing your company, but he had made it sound so simple ━ as if it was you who needed the help. And you can’t deny the hope you had felt building within you. Had everything Jungkook said to you been a lie? Every pretty word, telling you how great he had claimed it felt to be with you? Jimin’s words all culminate in one prominent thought which is that maybe Jungkook only really needed you long enough for the charity ball, simply so he could earn back his father’s trust and secure his spot in the company.
Whether it was one too many martinis or strawberry daiquiris or the lavish designer dress that suddenly feels too constricting on your body or the way Jungkook was so carelessly flirting with another girl, much like he had done before in Paris and even in Italy, you need to escape. Everything just seems so suffocating and ridiculous. But moreover, you are reminded by the sobering fact that this lifestyle you have suddenly surrounded yourself with is one you have mocked before. It’s one you have claimed you would never have the privilege of understanding, one that you never really yearned to be a part of if it was anything like the wealthy folk who inhabited the bar lounge you work at.
So, you decide to leave.
You aren’t quite certain your abrupt decision will do any good but suddenly all you crave is the comfort of your own home, however much it may pale in comparison to villas in Italy and luxurious hotels in Seoul. You don’t bother telling Jungkook. Instead, you send him a single text that warns him of your departure and inform Jimin who, in his drunken bliss, may or may not remember to tell Jungkook.
And somehow, after you are able to secure a flight back to New York within a few hours and are seated aboard the plane, you’re able to convince yourself that maybe Jungkook wouldn’t miss you anyway.
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Out of your own stubborn will, you begin to ignore Jungkook.
The day after you return to New York, you are greeted by a voicemail from Jungkook who asks curiously why you left. Then, when you don’t respond to that, he decides to send you various texts throughout the week that continue to ask if anything happened, if you’re doing okay, if you’re mad at him. At some point he sends you a text asking if you can come to his place and you decide to respond with a short and cold text simply saying you’re too busy. You don’t know exactly what you expect from pushing Jungkook away. Maybe you had imagined he would forget you altogether and you could casually slip back into the real world that you had lived before meeting Jungkook. Of course that isn’t the case. Jungkook knows something is wrong; he knows that you’re angry but he has no means of knowing why you’re mad at him. Yet he refuses to stop trying to contact you.
It starts with a grand bouquet of saffron crocuses surrounded by Casablanca lilies and gardenias. It first appears at the bar lounge, a massive and beautiful arrangement of flowers encased in a crystal clear vase taking up most of the space of the bar counter which doesn’t exactly please Namjoon. A single card is tucked amongst the petals of the flowers, your name printed in pretty script. It doesn’t say who it’s from but you don’t need to know the name to understand. You decide to leave it at the bar, much to Namjoon’s dismay. The next week, you answer a knock at your door and are greeted to a personal delivery of a small neatly wrapped package that is revealed to be a rose gold Cartier bracelet encrusted with diamonds. You tell the delivery man at the door to return it. The week after that, you answer the front door once more and come face to face with delivery men placing a dozen bouquets of red roses around your apartment. This time you are forced to keep them, and stare at them distantly as they overwhelm your small kitchen in a wild secret garden.
The same week of the gift of the plethora of roses is also the same week of Jungkook’s charity gala. You try to convince yourself to stay home but you can’t not go. Even if Jungkook was possibly using you to his own benefit, it would be a shame if your missing self was indirectly one of the factors that caused Jungkook’s father to change his mind. Besides, it is the least you can do for the man after he had showered you with attention and materialistic pleasure, even if none of it really mattered to him. Your invitation to the gala still stands, that much you know, and the dress Jungkook had bought for you weeks ago is still hanging on the back of your bedroom door. It is a long, A-line Zuhair Murad gown with a plunging neckline, and the tulle and fabric of which is made of a light blush colour. It’s encrusted with sparkling swarovskis where they cluster mostly at the bodice and then trail along the rest of the skirt like falling stars. It’s a breathtaking, elegant piece, and you tell yourself that it is the sole reason why you ultimately decide to go to the gala because it really would be a shame to never wear the dress out.
When you finally do arrive at the gala, it is at Pier 15 in Lower Manhattan. The party itself is on a grand luxury yacht and the duration of the gala is meant to take place sailing around the harbor once night has fallen. As it rests docked by the pier, the yacht is already crowded with various elites and socialites and certain celebrities as the stragglers still trickle in. The party is well on its way, with the guests mingling with one another, enjoying hor d’oeuvres and champagne out of crystal flute glasses, as a live band, somewhere, plays smooth jazz music. You spot Jungkook before he notices you, looking handsome in another Armani suit, standing at the front of the bow of the deck and greeting newcomers. Beside him stands an older woman and man dressed impeccably, both of whom share a striking resemblance to Jungkook. Though you have never met them before, you assume they are his parents. You approach them shyly, with your back straight and your head held high. Jungkook notices you first and his eyes widen in surprise, his jaw unhinging open (partly because it feels as if he hasn’t seen you in months, but mostly because of how divine you look).
“Y/N!” Your name slips past Jungkook’s mouth in an exclamation before he can bite it back. He moves forward as if preparing to walk up to you but he has to hold himself back. He doesn’t miss the way you desperately try to avoid his stare, or the way you stand rigidly beside him.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” You apologize, though you say it mostly for the act you are putting on for his parents. “I got caught up at work and the traffic was horrid.”
“Oh, that’s certainly alright,” The woman says brightly. “You must be Y/N.”
“We’ve heard plenty about you from our son,” The man chuckles to himself. “I was wondering when we would have the pleasure of meeting you.”
Jungkook, who is still in a state of shock, opens and clamps his mouth shut repeatedly, frantically trying to grasp onto a proper train of thought. Eventually, he snaps from his daze and nods towards you. For the sake of the act, he places his hand on your back between your shoulder blades rather than the small of your back he had grown quite acquainted with.
“Mom, dad, meet Y/N,” he introduces. “Y/N, meet my parents.”
You shake their hands in a firm grip and nod politely, tight-lipped, when they introduce their names to you. Soon after, when the sun has dipped below the horizon, the boat takes off on its slow journey around the harbor and the party begins. While Jungkook mingles with his guests, you saunter off to the bar where you concede you will be spending most of your night. A few of Jungkook’s friends are there whom you remember from Italy and so you chat with them if only to pass the time. Fortunately Jungkook is much too busy to find a moment to come up to you. In fact, the only time you are around Jungkook is when he begins his speech to the partygoers at the gala on the deck of the ship. A handful of hours later, the boat docks by the pier once more and, while the party continues to unfurl within the yacht, you decide to venture home.
You have only made it off the yacht and onto the pier when you are forced to come to an abrupt halt. Because there, rushing off the ramp connected to the deck, and hopping down onto the pier in a hurry to catch you with a call of your name, is Jungkook. Truthfully, you had been hoping to escape the party without him noticing; meanwhile, Jungkook, who had been subject to a dull conversation about stocks with an old business partner of his father’s, was hoping he would find you once he managed to break free from the party. Yet now that he has you within his grasps, his words fall short. He stares at you curiously, perhaps a little confused as his brows knit together at the sight of you. There’s a dozen things he wants to ask you, and a dozen more things he wants to tell you, but he can’t.
Instead, he asks, “Where are you going?”
“Home,” You reply. Behind Jungkook, the ensuing party can be heard ━ an amass of sound ranging from regal laughter to soft music. Behind you, and out towards the city, you can hear the sound of passing citizens and tourists, the whizzing of cars and the wailing of a siren. “You don’t need me anymore. Your parents are gone. They looked pleased. You can clearly go have fun now. Maybe go back to that girl who was eyeing you at the bar.”
Jungkook, staring at you with a dumbfounded expression, asks the first thing that pops into his mind that seems the most logical. “Have you been drinking?”
You simply shake your head, though Jungkook has an unnerving feeling that it is more of an act of scrutiny towards him and not an answer to his question. It’s Jungkook’s fault anyway; he wants to talk to you, but he can’t seem to formulate his thoughts into words.
“Just go back to the party, Jungkook,” You sigh.
“I don’t want to,” he says with a frown. He takes a step towards you and pauses. “I want to stay with you.”
When you don’t respond, he pushes himself forward once more. He doesn’t stop until he is standing right before you, where he so very carefully takes your right hand in his. It’s a small action but it’s enough to make your heart swoon. He glances up, makes sure he catches your wandering stare with his.
“Come home with me,” he says. “Whatever’s happening… We can talk it out. Don’t you want to?”
You do. You want to tell him the truth but your stubborn mind warns you to be wary and the small fact that you feel as if you can’t trust Jungkook anymore is enough to make you wince. Perhaps he can sense your hesitation, or notices the way you flinch because he squeezes your hand just enough. And maybe it’s the way his deep carob eyes pour deeply into yours, or the proximity between your two beating hearts, or the way he holds your hand that makes you cave. You tell yourself, much like you had at the start of all this, that just once more wouldn’t hurt. That maybe he’ll finally answer all your questions or that maybe you’ll learn to forget everything you had heard and let Jungkook spoil you with riches.
So, when you nod your confirmation to Jungkook, you not only startle him, but yourself too. He abandons his dwindling party on the fancy yacht for you. He calls for a chauffeur and drives with you in a tense silence back to his home. The perverse silence follows you even as you clamber out of the car, into the apartment’s lobby, and during the elevator ride to the penthouse. When you finally make it to his home, you are disappointed to feel nothing. You don’t know how long you’re in his apartment for, though it really isn’t for that long.
You’ve kicked off your heels and have wandered over to the floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room just as he’s shed his suit jacket and tossed it somewhere on one of the couches. He asks if you want something to drink ━ such a mundane question for your relationship with Jungkook, but what else could he ask you at a time like this? He just wants to know what has been plaguing your mind long enough to drive yourself away from him ━ but you only shake your head. Your arms are wound protectively over your chest and, as you eye the illuminated city down below, you are overcome with the feeling of shame and embarrassment. And all because of one sole thought that reminds you: you don’t belong here. Here in this luxurious dress, here in this luxurious penthouse, here with such a luxurious man.
As if that is the cataclystic thought you need, you turn around on one pointed heel and shake your head. “Maybe I shouldn’t have come here tonight. This was a mistake.”
You’re halfway to the door when Jungkook stops you by speaking up.
“Do you mean coming here tonight was a mistake?” he asks. “Or are you really trying to tell me that you think we’re a mistake?”
“There isn’t even a we,” You retort. When you turn to face him, his brows are pinched together in a scowl.
“What has been up with you lately?” he asks. Though his words may sound hostile, his voice is a gentle plea. “You’re mad, aren’t you? Well, what did I do?”
When you don’t respond, he decides to continue on.
“Didn’t you get my gifts?” he asks. “They were the only way I could reach you to apologize. Did you not like them? Because if that’s the case, just say the word, and I’ll buy you anything you want. Just━”
“That’s not it, Jungkook.”
“Then what is it?” His words are a little more vexed than usual. When he realizes this, he pauses and takes a deep breath. Then, running a hand through his perfectly parted hair, he continues on. “I can’t know what the problem is when you won’t tell me what’s bothering you ━ when you keep pushing me away. But I’m trying my hardest to please you. I just need you to talk to me.”
“So you thought the gifts would work?” You ask. When your eyes settle on him, they’re narrowed into a glare. “Did you━ what? Think you could just buy my attention back? Or buy my love? I’m sorry if it came across that way but I’m not another one of your cheap fucks. I’m not going to come crawling back to you just for your money. I just━ I’ve had enough of all of this! It’s so stupid! I feel so ridiculous.”
You raise your hands in the air in a sign of defeat, though really you are bitterly gesturing to the pretty dress adorning your curves and sigh. Cautiously, Jungkook takes another step towards you. “Y/N, please just tell me what’s wrong.”
“Did you even really care about me?”
The question is so abrupt that it catches him off guard. He takes a moment to respond, noting the way you wrap your arms protectively over your chest.
“What are you talking about?” he asks wearily.
“This whole deal between us,” You say. “You just needed a perfect cover so you could impress your parents, right? Secure your spot as CEO so you wouldn’t lose all your money? And might as well get some bonus points for deciding to ‘settle’ down with a poor girl while you’re at it, right? Was that all that I was to you? A cover and the charity case?”
You assume by the way his eyes widen with apprehension and the way his lips are pulled in a thin line that you must be right. He opens his mouth to speak, then closes it, his words stammering in his mind.
“How did you know?” he asks.
“So it’s true?” You ask sourly.
“No. I mean, yes. It’s half true,” he says. Then he shakes his head sullenly. “It was Jimin who told you, wasn’t it?”
“What does it matter?” You retort. “The point is, I’m right. You were just using me the whole time. I bet, on all these fancy excursions you took me on, you and your friends would laugh about it and me. You know, I knew you were rich but I didn’t take you for an asshole too.”
“No!” he exhales sharply, as if he has just felt a horrendous pang of pain in his chest. “I mean, you’re right about my parents and about the CEO position, but everything else is wrong.”
Clearly, you don’t look amused. Your patience is wearing thin, and the way you stare up at him as if he is some stranger altogether makes his chest and throat swell.
“I made a mistake. I’m sorry, okay? I should have told you from the beginning,” he sighs. “They were mad at me ━ my parents. They thought I wasn’t taking the position as CEO seriously enough and they would have taken it away from me. But it wasn’t the fear of losing the money that made me feel ashamed of it all. It was the fact that I had disappointed my parents, and I wanted to make things right. I wanted to show them I was responsible enough to take on the company. I wanted them to trust me.”
“So you had to use me?”
“No!” he shakes his head furiously. “Look… All the business dinners and social events I took you to over these past few months ━ I’d have gone to them all even if you weren’t by my side. The first dinner in Paris I took you to ━ I told you I needed a date to impress those associates and it worked. My parents heard about how well it went and they kept praising you, even though they hadn’t met you. For once they didn’t look so disappointed with me. Having you by my side was just a plus. I wasn’t really using you; you just came at the right time so we could both benefit from this deal between us. But when I first approached you at the lounge, it wasn’t about all of this. It was about you. Because I had seen you there before and because I overheard how you were scared you would get kicked out of your apartment. I wanted to help you because I like you, not because I thought you were a charity case or whatever you think it was. It was because I genuinely wanted to get closer to you. And what I said to you in Italy? I meant it. I meant everything.”
You’re gnawing on your lower lip anxiously, watching him carefully. You haven’t realized that he has slowly been inching closer to you until then. You ask quietly, maybe a little tiredly, “But what do I really mean to you, Jungkook? Pretty words mean one thing but… It’s just been months since this whole thing started and nothing’s ever happened between us and I always see you with pretty girls but I can’t be the only one feeling different. I mean, even in Italy ━ you can’t tell me we weren’t going to kiss but then you turned away and━”
You’re cut off abruptly with a kiss on your mouth, his mouth silencing your own mouth with an unbreakable seam of your lips. It catches you completely off guard but it reminds you so suddenly of all your harbored feelings towards him. The kiss is hard, fast, feverish and it happens all at once that you barely have time to register anything else before you’re parting from with him a loud pop! of your lips. You’re gawking up at him with wide eyes and an ajar mouth, lips swollen red, and breathing fast when a sudden realization dawns on you. All the magic you had felt in Paris and Italy, the dreamlike state of mind you had endured these past few months ━ most of it had been because of Jungkook. Because when you’re around Jungkook, no matter the lavish place or foreign city or pretty beach, everything feels, simply, like magic. Jungkook’s reaction is similar to yours but then it softens into something more cordial. His eyes sweep over your face softly and his hand comes up to rest gingerly upon your cheek.
“You mean the world to me,” he whispers. “And I mean that. I haven’t felt this different in such a long time. These past few months that we’ve spent together, whether it being at boring dinner parties or walking Gureum or having a movie night, it’s meant so much to me. You mean so much to me. No one else matters. No one else compares to you. Fancy cars and Italy and Paris can’t even compare to you. And I’ve never felt so━ so me and so comfortable than when I’m around you. I’m just so thankful you even gave me a chance in the first place━”
This time it is you who silences him again with another short kiss, his words exciting you all too suddenly that you think you aren’t possibly able to contain it. You part from him moments later only to mumble against his lips, “Keep kissing me, please.”
It earns a soft chuckle against your lips but Jungkook doesn’t relent. How can he ever deny such an idea when the taste of your lips is so heavenly? The soft flesh of your upper lip wedged so perfectly between his teeth, the way you sigh with delight against his mouth as the kiss progresses, the way the touch and feel of your lips ignites something so foreign, so lovely, in the very core of his heart, in his bones, exploding with each passing second behind his shut eyelids and at the tips of his fingers. He enjoys it too much to find any reason to stop and, instantaneously, his insatiable hunger for you is coming to light. His eager lips part from yours to nip and suck at your jawline and neck and it earns a beautiful gasp from you, your hands flying out to grasp onto his biceps.
“Let me take care of you tonight, baby girl,” he hums. “It’ll be all about you. I’ll show you just how much you mean to me.”
It’s the way he is whispering his words, deep and husky, that sends shivers down your spine. You curl into his chest instinctively and crane your neck, as if silently begging him for more. You can feel his lips ghost along your jugular as you try to speak next and it is enough to make you flustered and, thus, makes you give up on any attempt to communicate verbally without sounding like a fool. Instead, as if to show him your interest, you catch his lips with yours once more and kiss him eagerly. It makes Jungkook smile and suppress his chuckles as he sees just how desperate you are and, fuck, he finds it incredibly hot. In the next moment, you’re burrowing your face into his neck, your tongue laving circles at his jugular.
“Just as long as you get me out of this stupid dress,” You mumble against his throat.
“Gladly.”
He laughs lightly and you can’t help the giggle that bubbles at your lips. He grabs onto your waist then and pushes you around until he has your back pressed up against the nearest wall. He leans in against you and replaces your efforts by littering love bites along your neck and down to your collarbone. Your breath hitches in your throat and your hand immediately comes up to allow your fingers to thread in his hair and grasp at something, anything. You’re bristling with excitement as you hold your head higher, lips curling into a smirk. He hums into your neck and then he’s greedily reaching for the zipper of your dress, tugging it down.
As soon as he has the dress unzipped, he watches as you begin to shimmy your way out of the material, tugging it down your torso and then legs and Jungkook makes sure he doesn’t miss one single second of it or the white lace underwear you wear, the perfect perk of your breasts bare. It’s then that Jungkook realizes this isn’t all an elaborate dream in his head; that this is real life, and that you’re opening yourself up completely to him. As soon as you’re stepping out of the dress, Jungkook can’t help but reach out to grab onto your hips and yank you toward him, sighing into your hair, “Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”
Jungkook doesn’t seem to notice the way your own hands snake up his chest to pop open the first few buttons of his dress shirt. Instead, he is much too busy on peppering kisses along your neck and shoulders, down to your collarbones, and back up again, marking you red and purple. It’s then that he starts pulling you with him as he takes quick yet careful strides backwards to the flight of stairs. It’s messy and frantic and results in a lot of time spent pressed up against walls and the railing of the stairs along the way to the second floor, greedy hands and lips unwilling to part from one another. By the time you’ve made it to his bedroom, you’ve somehow managed to unbutton his entire shirt which now hangs open against his chest and your hands selfishly run up and down his exposed skin. Once in his bedroom, he shoves you up against one of the ceiling-to-floor windows that line the wall facing his bed, his lips still attached to your neck, and one of your legs thrown haphazardly around his hips, pressing him into you.
You can feel the bulge in his pants and his restrained member poking against your inner thigh and it is what pushes you to give an experimental roll of your hips against his. A rather loud moan falls from your lips at the abrupt contact against your throbbing core and suddenly you need more. You catch his lips on yours and he decides to take the liberty of grinding against you in such agonizing slow circles that it has both of you going absolutely insane but you want to take the time to enjoy every single second of this. His hands grasp at your hips, pushing you further and further up against the window. When he parts from you in the next moment, it is with a fleeting sweep of his hungry gaze down the front of your body, his fingertips dancing faintly along your arms and sides.
He presses one last lingering kiss to your lips and then leaves a trail down your throat, between the valley of your breasts (which he gluttonously grasps at, his thumb swiping over one of your perked bugs), and to your navel. He’s on his knees by the time he’s hovering over your hips, and the leg that had been carelessly wound around his waist now rests upon his shoulder. He plants a kiss on the skin just between your hip bones, just above your panties, and surely he understands your need. His seemingly unencumbered expression is maddening. His fingers dig into your hips and hours seem to pass as you wait for him to touch the one place he neglects. A needy whimper falls from your parted lips that sounds akin to a desperate beg of, “Please, Jungkook. I need you.”
“Shh, baby girl, have patience,” he rasps. “I’m going to treat you just right.”
His promise rouses you and makes you stifle your childlike whines, though your patience is beginning to wear thin. His fingers hook around the lace material of your panties and he slowly drags them down your legs, enjoying the way you bite down on your lower lip in anticipation and watch him with hooded eyes. His eyes take in your soft glistening cunt and he sighs in admiration. Then his tongue makes contact with your clit and a small squeak rips from your throat, your hips immediately bucking forward. He doesn’t seem to mind, though, and if anything moans in delight at the taste of your cum on his tongue. He runs the wet muscle down your folds and back up, swirling slow circles against your bundle of nerves, feeling just how wet you are for him, tasting just how wet you are, and the new sensation hits you all at once, leaving your jaw hanging open. He smirks at your reaction, his tongue continuing its ministration as you’re certain he can feel your arousal grow.
“Jungkook,” You sigh, your hands twisting in his hair. “Ah, th━that feels so good━ Oh!”
The sudden gasp that tears from your throat is a result of his finger pressing against your folds. He runs his digit along your skin, coaxing it perfectly in your sticky succulence that sends a sudden shock of euphoria spiralling all over your body. As he busies himself with swirling his tongue around your sensitive clit, his lips suction perfectly around the skin and he sucks, hard, and his finger slides past your slick folds, earning a cry of delight from you. His finger curls within you and begins pumping in and out of you at a gradual pace but it, mixed with his tongue pressed against your clit, is enough to send you whirling out of control. Your legs are suddenly shaking and, had your leg not been supported by his shoulder, you fear that your knees may have buckled under the pressure
“Ah, Jungkook!” You gasp in a trembling breath. “F━Fuck, nghn━”
The sound is simply divine and Jungkook selfishly wants to hear more. He basks in the way you clench around him, the way you whimper and writhe. Soon he is picking up pace, pumping his finger in you with a reckless abandon and sucking hard at your clit, and it’s almost shameless how fast your sweet release hits you. You’re tumbling over the edge soon after, hips bucking back and forth into his mouth as you chase after your high. Jungkook joins his tongue with his fingers and starts lapping at your walls like he’s eating a full course meal and the new sensation suddenly has you howling.
“Jungkook!” You cry. “Jungkook, I’m━”
You hear him, feel him, hum against your core before it turns into a beautiful moan. He burrows deeper into you, his nose brushing against your clit, eager to carry you to your high, and he does so with ease. As soon as you feel your high rapidly approaching, you let go of all sense of control and welcome it with wide open arms. You’re hit with waves of intense pleasure as you release onto Jungkook’s tongue and finger and, fuck, the sight is even hotter than he could have imagined. He hurries to help you ride out your high, gasps and moans ripping from your throat in a messy cacophony, your hips writhing beneath him. He relents at once when you start to whimper at the oversensitivity and pulls apart, glancing up at you with a glistening mouth, his lips and chin coated with you. He licks at every inch of his face that is shimmering and moans in content.
“Fuck, you taste amazing,” he gasps, his eyes flickering up your dishevelled appearance.
You’re breathing hard, chest rising and falling, and your teeth have bitten down so hard on your lower lip that the flesh is almost swollen. He leans down once more to kiss the inside of your thigh gently and looks up at you through his long lashes. You’re still gasping for air when your hands start tugging at him, trying desperately to pull him back up to you, and he allows you to. When his face is hovering right above yours, you smash your lips hungrily against his for a messy and heated kiss. He grins against your mouth, seemingly enjoying the way you’re biting at his lips, tasting your own cum on the tip of his tongue.
“Tell me what you need from me,” he whispers between your kisses. “What do you want?”
“You,” You gasp. “All of you, fuck. I need you so bad. I’m so wet for you right now; I need you to fuck me.”
His grin shifts into a sly smirk as he hears your pleading whines and he kisses you harder. “Anything for you, baby girl.”
He lets you tackle his neck with harsh kisses and lets your digits trace down his torso to the belt on his pants. You’ve only so much as pushed his pants and boxers down his thighs when both of you grow impatient. His cock pulses, tip angry and red and leaking with milky pre-cum, and you lick your lips at the sight, unable to contain yourself. Your hands reach for his length instantly, fingers brushing against his tip before wrapping firmly around his base. His breath hitches in his throat as you start pumping him, gliding your hand slowly up and down his length, your eyes fixated only on him.
“Fuck,” he grunts abruptly. “Baby girl━”
He pauses and hisses through clenched teeth as you continue. He doesn’t at all expect you to start pleasuring him but he doesn’t mind. In fact, he is carried away as you continue to work your hands against him, jerking him off in just the right pace that he isn’t able to hold himself back. He would have been fine coming right in your perfect hands but he needs more first before he is able to let himself fully go. He struggles to find his words as you begin to quicken your pace, sputtering for air helplessly. He squeezes his eyes shut, gulping hard and trying to focus his attention away from the exaltation he’s receiving.
“Ah, s━slow down, angel,” he breathes. It nearly pains him to pry your hands off of him and when you look at him with those innocent puppy dog eyes, he has to refrain from letting go right then and there.
“What’s wrong?” You ask. “I thought you were enjoying that.”
“No━ I mean, fuck, yes, I was,” he stammers. “But I’m trying not to come undone before I’m filling you up. Fuck, I just need to be in you right now.”
“Then fuck me,” You say boldly. “I’m all yours.”
The words seem to spark a glint in his eyes that entices him to move next. One hand grips at your thigh and lifts it onto his waist, while his other hand pumps himself slowly. Your mewls of euphoria hit his ears in a ringing melody and he waits, patiently, watching as you quiver beneath him, moaning once more. Your teeth sink into your lower lip as you’re held in suspense, waiting for the heavenly contact. When it happens, when you finally feel the tip of his cock push past your folds, your jaw drops open in a silent gap. He pauses then, grunting and hissing as he adjusts to your warmth, before he’s pushing himself into you once more, slowly. He’s perfectly thick, fitting snugly in your core, letting you feel him stretch you open inch by glorious inch. It’s too much for you to handle now, and you can’t help the moan that escapes you.
“Fuck,” You whimper, head lolling back against the windowpane. “Fuck━ I━ I━”
“You’re so wet,” Jungkook grunts. “Shit, you feel amazing.”
You whimper in response and he pushes himself into you the rest of the way until he’s finally buried hilt deep within you. He pauses again, letting you both adjust to the newfound sensation.  He almost collapses against you as he pushes himself deeper into you, grinding against you in slow motions that have your head spinning. He pulls back after a while in one languid stride until only his tip is left buried in your folds before thrusting back into you with enough force to send you tottering forward. He adapts a leisurely pace of thrusting in and out of you so that you can feel him stretch you open all the way until it feels like he’s in the very back of your throat before pulling out and it drives you mad. As your arms wrap around his neck, one of his hands digs into your hips, and the other dances up the front of your chest. It first grasps at one of your breasts, his warm palm wrapping so perfectly around it, before his fingers stretch out amongst your neck.
Favouring a more suitable position, Jungkook comes to one stimulating halt when he thrusts up into you one final time. Momentarily you’re taken from your reverie when he pulls his dripping cock from your folds. Instead, he turns you around and you so easily oblige. He yanks your hips towards him, your ass pressing up firmly against his hips, and then he pushes himself into you once more. Your hands brace yourself as you plant them firmly on the window before you. From this angle, you can see the dazzling lights of the city, and though you know it isn’t possible from this high up, you wonder if any passersby far down below on the streets can see you and Jungkook in such a lewd setting. This time, his pace is fast and precise, his hips angling just right to thrust his cock into you in just the right spot.
“Fuck, baby girl,” he rasps. “Moan for me. Let me hear you.”
There is an internal battle to find your voice, being condemned silent due to the ecstasy that clouds your mind and blocks you from thinking or saying anything reasonable. You swallow hard, all senses focused on the way he’s thrusting into you, picking up speed, the sound of skin against skin and vulgar wet slaps each time he sinks deeper into you. The only way you can describe it is akin to feeling your head being set ablaze and sending it’s flickering flames all over your body and make the dazzling lights of the city blur in with the stars. When he thrusts into you the next time, he is suddenly hitting an angle that has something erupting in you and has you plummeting forward, jaw ripping open. You cry out as you flail forward, your hands slipping from their hold against the window.
“A━Ah, f━fuck,” You hiss. “Jungkook! J━Jungkook━ I’m━”
Your voice is drowned out by another loud moan and the sound is so angelic, so clear, that Jungkook yearns to hear more. He pulls your waist closer to him because there is no way you can find the strength to prop yourself up any longer when it just feels so amazing. His movements become more erratic, messy as he fumbles for your high and his. His warm fingers continue to tug at your ass, your waist, anything to hold you closer to him. But soon even he can’t hold himself together. With the way you clench so tightly around him, he begins sputtering for air. Soon, he has you pressed shamelessly all the way against the window, your cheek laying flat against the cool glass, and his own chest lays taut against your back. His self-indulgent hands snake around your front and push apart your thighs so that he can rub the heel of his palm against your clit. That, mixed with his teeth sinking absentmindedly into your shoulder, and the feeling of his twitching cock buried deep within your core is enough to have you a moaning and whimpering mess.
When he pulls out of you this time, it is to pull you back towards the king-sized bed. In the process, you help him kick off the stubborn remaining material of his pants. He’s only managed to make it as far being seated at the edge of the bed, with you straddling his hips and sitting prettily in his lap, when you eagerly reach down to run his length along your folds. Jungkook is too caught up in the pleasure to even bother to stop you, watching as you grip his shoulders tightly, and ride him in his lap with a reckless abandon. Your actions are desperate, eager. He wraps his arms around your waist, holding you tightly against him, and all you can hear is the vulgar wet sound of his length slipping in and out. It’s disorganized, frantic, desperate, hot, as both of you chase your highs. It hits you first after already being spent from your first orgasm, as if you had just ran straight into a brick wall, and has you completely unprepared. It starts at your core and sparks outward, like electricity flowing through your veins and bones. Your stomach unravels at the feeling, your core tightening around his length and the tight confinement has Jungkook moaning and wheezing for air.
“Jungkook!” You cry. “Fuck!”
You reach your high moments later, coming around his length and coating every inch of him in your sweet release as it leaks out of you, chanting his name over and over again in a beautiful mantra that he finds himself indulging in. The way your high overwhelms your senses has you seeing stars, your head spinning, as your body writhes in his ironclad hold. Jungkook nearly collapses against you at the feeling of your kegel muscles flexing around him, his hands pawing at your back in an attempt to keep a hold on reality. It’s the way your orgasm seems to hit you that has your core pulsating around him, even as you try to come down from your high only to feel the pleasurable ache that is his hard cock buried deep within you. He pulls out then, far too quickly for your liking, but he fumbles to gingerly push you over and you follow suit until you’re laying on your back. He takes no time to position himself back over his entrance, kneeling between your legs, and pushes himself into you once more with a wet squelch. You’re met with a feeling of oversensitivity, but you buck your hips forward, probing him to his release.
“Ah, Jungkook,” You whimper. “Mmm, come for me, baby.”
Your indigent hands tug at his arms, his torso, anything in your reach to have him closer to you and he happily obliges, propping himself up with his elbows. He combs your hair away from your face and kisses your lips tenderly. He pulls his length out of you only to slam his hips back in and rattling you to the bone. You squeak involuntarily, your mouth peppering his jawline and neck with love bites. His thrusts are still quick, desperate almost, as he lusts for his release. The tenderness in your core met with his hard pumps have you sinking your teeth down into his shoulder and he hisses. His hand finds your chin then and he delicately pulls you apart from him before making you face him.
“Keep looking at me, baby girl, okay?” he rasps before cursing under his breath.
You nod meekly, finding solace in gnawing on your lower lip as your eyes make contact with his. The sight has Jungkook nearly coming then and there and how can he not when your hooded eyes are fixated on him, sleepy and innocent, completely fucked out, and you’re sucking hard on your lip. Jungkook has a similar look of exhaustion painted on his face, his eyebrows scrunched together in hard concentration and his lips parting ever so slightly for you to see his gritting teeth. Beads of sweat form on his forehead and yours and suddenly the room is stifling hot, warming your face and body completely. Soon, the oversensitivity you feel soothes into something softer, more pleasurable, and it doesn’t affect you nearly as much. You jut your hips forward then, urging him on and he moans.
“Y/N━ Oh, shit━”
A whimper falls from Jungkook’s lips and it’s so surprising, so hot, that you nearly come again. He’s picking up his pace, snapping his hips messily into yours. He comes only moments later, finally reaching his perfect bliss, and it has him plummeting his hips once more into yours before he’s releasing his hot sticky seed into you. The room is filled with both of your moans, mixed with his breathy groans of your name. His weight gives out beneath him and he falls on top of you though he rocks his hips into yours tiredly to ride out his high until he is finally at peace, boneless from within you. Once he has calmed down from his high, he slumps fully against your chest, his face buried in your collarbone, and the room finally goes silent.
All that fills the air is the sound of both of your wheezing pants and your shrilly beating heart that you are certain even Jungkook can hear. The room is warm, the smell of sex stale in the air, but there is a sheen of pure white elatedness that has you sighing in content. Your fingers rake through Jungkook’s sweaty hair and the silence, with the added warmth of his body laying over yours, almost lulls you to sleep. You’re drifting in and out of consciousness when Jungkook presses his lips to your collarbone and then lifts his head to kiss your own lips. Your eyes flicker open then and you find him smiling down at you and the sight is so radiating, so ardent, that you can’t help but mirror it tiredly. He pulls out of you then and you hiss at the sudden emptiness and the way his milky cum leaks out of you and down your thighs. He stands to his feet, tossing on his underwear, before leaning down to whisper, “I’ll be right back, baby girl, don’t worry.”
He disappears out the room but you don’t know where until he returns a minute later with a damp cloth in hand. He climbs the bed next to you and then he begins to gently wipe at your core with the cloth, making you hum in satisfaction. He finds you smiling at him when he finally looks back up at you and quirks a brow, tilting his head to the side.
“What?” he asks.
“Oh, nothing,” You chuckle lightly, though you’re certain he knows his gentle gestures have your heart bursting with joy. “Come here.”
He does as you say, reclining back on the bed and opening his arms to invite you in. You wiggle closer to his body until you’re pressed up against his side, your head nuzzling into his chest; his own arm wraps around your waist and his other hand lets his fingers run up and down your spine in comforting circles. That, and the sound of his gently thudding heart, is what carries you to sleep that night.
When you awake in the morning, it is to the coarse and wet tongue of Gureum lapping at your cheek. The shimmering sunlight drifts in through Jungkook’s shut blinds and dusts your body in a golden light and heat. It, and Gureum, rouses you back to reality and has you giggling sleepily as you see the small white dog perched up next to you on the bed. Your reach for him to scratch behind his ears as your eyes focus on Jungkook laying just beyond the dog. He’s already awake, gazing up at you with dreary eyes and a soft smile.
“Good morning,” You yawn.
“Morning,” he replies.
He kisses your forehead and you smile once more, folding into him as you hug Gureum close to you. It’s silent again after that and it feels so strange to have everything feel so normal. To be cuddling with Jungkook and his dog in his bed with him after a night of making love, and it is almost as if you were supposed to be there from the very beginning. It was comfortable, it was simple, it was easy ━ and you loved every single second of it. His hand finds yours and your fingers lace together flawlessly and you’re so content with falling back asleep that you nearly miss Jungkook when he speaks next.
“Do you remember what I said to you at the lounge when I first brought up this whole thing?” he asks.
It takes you a moment to think back to that day which seems so far away. His gaze is fixated on your clasped hands but you’re already staring at him.
“The rules?”
He nods slowly. “Do you remember how I said we shouldn’t fall in love?”
You can already sense where the conversation is going and it has your throat swelling, your heart pounding in your chest. “Yes.”
Jungkook finally looks at you, his dark chocolate eyes locking with your own pupils. “Well,” he trails off. “I’m pretty sure I broke that rule because I’m falling in love with you.”
His confession startles you completely, hitting you all at once. You gasp in response, eyes widening in surprise, and you can only hope he isn’t able to hear the frantic beating of your heart.
“When did you break it?”
That is all you can muster, but it doesn’t seem to disappoint Jungkook. He smiles sheepishly, his eyes flickering up to the ceiling.
“Would you call me insane if I said that very night at the lounge?” he asks.
“No,” You reply, catching his attention once more. “Because I’m fairly certain that’s when I started falling for you, too.”
Jungkook’s face begins to light up and it is the first time you have seen him as happily genuine as he is there. His smile radiates the same warmth and glory of the sun and he watches you in a shimmering lovelight as you look away, face flushing, and fingers tracing patterns on his bare chest.
“Can we make another deal?” You ask faintly.
“Of course, anything,” he says.
“Can we━ Can we give us a try?” You inquire.
Jungkook laughs. “You didn’t have to ask. I thought it was already a given that we would give us a try after we said we both have feelings for each other.”
You smile again and look up at him. “But there’s more.”
“What is it, baby girl?”
“I just━” You pause and then push yourself over onto your stomach from beneath the soft sheets. Gureum skips over to the edge of the bed and sits at the very end of your feet. “I want to give us a try without your money getting in the way. I mean, I don’t need you ━ or want you ━ to pay for me to be by your side. I want this to be real and genuine.”
“Of course,” he complies. “This is just you and me now. But, that being said, I’m still obligated to spoil my baby girl rotten every now and then with gifts and there’s nothing you can do to stop me. You still deserve to be treated like a princess.”
You can’t help but laugh, shaking your head at him. You kiss him once more, short and quick, and mumble against his lips a very faint, “Deal. But, on one condition.”
“Go on,” he hums.
“You let me take you out on a coffee date today and let me pay for the both of us this time with my own money,” You say.
Jungkook grins wide and nods enthusiastically. “That sounds perfect. Anything you want, I’ll do.”
You find it hard to look away from Jungkook after that, and you’re certain you find yourself falling even more in love with him then. His golden tan illuminates under the glittering sunlight and you want nothing more than to be in that moment forever where it is just you and Jungkook, Jungkook and you.
“First thing’s first, though,” Jungkook says at long last. “How about we start the morning off right with a round two from last night in the shower right now. What do you say?”
His proposition has you laughing so suddenly that it startles Gureum at the edge of the bed. You lean down again to kiss Jungkook’s irresistible lips. When you part, you catch his mischievous stare and his broad grin and mirror it.
“Well,” You say, “I have always said you like to spoil me rotten.”
“Well,” Jungkook echoes with a chuckle. He shrugs innocently as he speaks next, pressing a chilling kiss to your neck. “Only the best for my baby girl.”
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mingoyeob · 8 days ago
Text
oh my ghost (m) | jjk
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pairing ⇾ ghost! jungkook x reader
genre(s) ⇾ smut, supernatural au
word count ⇾ 13k
ratings/warnings ⇾ 18+ | nsfw content, panty sniffing, mutual masturbation, double penetration, ghost dick, oral, nipple play, squirting, multiple orgasms, overstimulation
summary ⇾ fresh out of college, you’ve definitely had your fair share of horrible roommates. fortunately getting your first big girl job also means finally being able to save enough money to move into your own apartment. but you must’ve forgot to read the fine print when you signed the lease because come to find out, your new place comes with an unexpected house guest. oh and did i mention all your underwear seems to be going missing.
namkook moonrise masquerade
today’s weather was perfect for the move, not too hot to the point of sweating but just warm enough that you didn’t have to wear a jacket. From the open window across the room, a steady breeze blew through just as you finish sealing up the last box, the sound of masking tape slicing through the air before you close the flap. pulling out a sharpie you wrote the box's contents on the side. mementos you scrawl across the cardboard. The sound of footsteps coming down the hallway is what had you sighing and closing the cap on the marker, turning to look at the door knowing your ex roommate would soon appear in the doorway.
“don’t forget you still have to pay me this month's rent before you leave. you are not leaving me to pay for it all by myself.” internally you groan, why didn’t i close my door.
“I know, jennie. didn’t I say I would get it to you? so obviously you’ll have it soon.” you glare at her from your spot next to your former bed, hands scurrying to hurry and finish packing up your duffle bag, “now let me finish packing so i can finally get out of here.”
she scoffs, giving you the side eye before tossing her hair over her shoulder and heading back down the hall. “fine. didn’t like you all that much anyway.”
“couldn’t agree more.” you whisper to yourself, rolling your eyes and hooking your bag across your body, struggling to balance the box in your hands.
you hadn’t even lived in the apartment for a year before you realized it was the worst mistake ever. jimin had been the one to recommend jennie to you, saying that she would be the perfect roommate for your small two bedroom apartment. but the wrong girl must’ve showed up because jennie was not the perfect roommate, on the contrary. she was rude, messy and stole your stuff (even if she refused to admit it) and every time you confronted her about it she went and told jimin who would beg you to go a little easier on her.
Since Jimin was one of your closest friends, you couldn’t help but listen to him and try to be more lenient, which obviously backfired. She thought she was immune to anything and took advantage of your good natured personality until you got fed up and started looking for somewhere new to live entirely.
It helped that you had just scored a high paying job in your field that not only came with great benefits, but also allowed you to save up enough to be able to move out on your own, no roommate needed. and after you found the perfect place it didn’t take long to sign the lease with the added bonus of being able to move in right away since the space had been vacant already. When you asked why it was empty for so long he didn’t exactly give you a straight answer, but the place seemed clean and you considered yourself handy enough to be able to deal with anything that needed fixing. whatever it took to get you out of living with jennie a minute longer.
So once your car is packed full of all your stuff, you drive off down the block not even sparing the old run down building a second glance, thankful to be leaving. immediately it was like a weight was lifted off your shoulders, you would finally be able to come home to your own house without having to deal with any nonsense.
When you arrive at your new place, keys in hand and face full of glee, unlocking the door felt like stepping into paradise. you stick your head in looking around at the empty apartment, already imagining it full of all the new furniture and decor you intend to buy once you have the money. for now all you had was a dresser and a bed that was generously donated to you by your other close friend yoongi who had upgraded to some new type of extra firm, comfort technology mattress that you weren’t entirely sure you understood but didn’t feel like asking about. you didn’t have a frame for it but you were fine with placing it on the floor for now.
The sound of your footsteps clicking against the hardwood floors echoed throughout the space and once you reach the center you spin around, sighing in contentment. the floor wasn’t real hardwood, you knew that, (probably some type of laminate) and you could see that the fresh layer of paint that no doubt was covering some type of horrible mistake and peeling drywall, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. it was yours and that’s all that mattered.
“home sweet home.” you whisper to yourself, chest swelling with pride and contentment.
With a clap of determination you looked over at your many boxes and decided to get started. It took you a couple hours to get most of your things unpacked and by the time you finished for the day you could see the sun starting to set from the bay window that faced opposite of the small galley kitchen. you had to shield your eyes as the rays shined through the glass pane into your eyes as you mumbled to yourself, “i’ll hang up some curtains tomorrow.”
Your night ended with a relaxing hot shower (ignoring the lackluster water pressure) followed by snuggling up into some soft flannel pajamas to keep you warm. The apartment seemed to get exceptionally cold at night and you make a mental note to ask the landlord about getting a heater installed later. Once your thoughts begin to drift off and you feel your eyes starting to get heavy, you decide it’s time to push your tasks for tomorrow out of your head and let yourself succumb to the beckoning call of sleep.
your dreams were calm and undisturbed without having a roommate to make noises all through the night and you were able to peacefully float through your dreams, comforted by images of a black haired stranger with shining doe like eyes. you didn’t know who the man was and you probably wouldn’t even remember when you woke up but in the moment he seemed so familiar.
“Who are you?” you whisper to the stranger, sitting up in your bed to get a closer glimpse at his face. you don’t remember yourself waking up but you could tell it was still night time as the moonlight cascaded through your bedroom window. The boy sat at the end of your mattress close to your feet with hands tucked in his lap looking at you with a sense of curiosity. you took a moment to gaze back at him and noticed how pale his skin looked, as if it was made of porcelain. not to mention his eyes were a bit unnerving, dark and wide like the night sky but still full of childlike innocence.
“I live here.” he says, as if it was obvious. his mouth opens as if he was going to say something before he changes his mind and closes it again. The response he gives you only confuses you more and you raise an eyebrow at him to signal for him to keep going, but he just ignores it and continues fleeting his eyes over you. The amused smile that suddenly broke out onto the boy's face was breathtaking and if the small giddy laugh that followed has your heart skipping a beat, you pretended you didn't feel it.
“What's so funny?” you ask indignantly.
“nothing it’s just...you’re so pretty. It's been a while since someone so pretty moved into my home.” you choose to ignore his compliment, too busy focusing on the last part of the sentence. his home? What did he mean by that? The stranger didn’t give you a chance to ask your questions and leaned forward closer to your end of the bed, eyes still wide and glittering like stars. “Can I try something?”
“um...sure i mean- yeah sure.” you sputter, unsure as to why you didn’t say no. Perhaps it had something to do with how captivated he looked, like a little boy who just got a new toy to play with. Either way, it was too late to change your mind, as he was already scooting his way closer to you, face becoming clearer to you the nearer he got. you were even able to see the tiny moles that dotted his face, eyes zeroing on the one that sat just below the jut of his bottom lip.
You get so caught up in the features of his face you barely even notice his hand coming up to rest on the cusp of your cheek, body jumping at the contact. The sound of surprise you let out pull another laugh from him and he just smiles at you, tiny bunny like teeth peeking out. “I’m glad you’re here with me.” he says, voice barely above a whisper as if trying to keep a secret between the two of you.
The stranger's words has heat spreading across your cheeks and you shyly return his smile while subconsciously leaning into his touch. So soft you thought, eyes briefly slipping shut as you lose yourself in the moment. The boy lets out a small hum at the sight and rubs the pad of his thumb gently back and forth on the apple of your check. The sudden urge to return the affection is what has you raising your own hand to reach out to his face, succumbing to the curiosity of how smooth his skin must be. But your feelings of wonder and curiosity were quickly replaced with ones of horror and fear, watching as, upon contact with his face, your hand continues its path straight through, never meeting any type of resistance despite the man still sitting in front of you.
“What- what is this?!” you shout, jumping back from his grasp. “What are you?!”
Your sounds of fright has him flinching, shining smile and glittering eyes dimming as he ducks his head and drops his still lingering hand. Your head was full of nothing but questions and even more began flooding in when the boy starts fading out, disappearing as if made of smoke. Your eyes flicker back and forth around the room trying to find a trace of him as you hear his voice echo around the room, still in the same whispering tone from before.
“Please don’t leave.”
The creaking sound of floor boards is what has you jolting up from your slumber, groggy eyes opening and still full of sleep. When you turn over to check the time, the numbers on the screen read three a.m. and you groan, “what the hell?”
You hated having to pull yourself out of bed at the ass crack of dawn and you were beyond annoyed at the fact that your sleep was being interrupted, but being alone in a house as a female meant you had to be extra cautious. so any sound, no matter how minor, was a concern.
Slowly you creep to the door, hand gripping the knob before cracking it open and peaking your head out around the frame. “Hello?” you call down the hallway, ears open to see if you could pick up any sound. A couple of seconds go by as you wait to see if anything else would respond before nervously stepping out of the room in the direction of the living room.
The air somehow seemed to be colder than when you went to sleep and you were a bit worried at the fact you could almost see your breath in the air. Your hands clung to your shivering body but you were glad to see when you walk around the corner that the apartment was as empty as you left it. Still, you cautiously took your time looking around and checking every nook and cranny before giving up and deciding it was time to go back to sleep since you still had work in the morning (even though you had practically begged your boss for some time off to move in).
However, the sound of something sliding open from your bedroom has you scurrying down your hall in an effort to try and catch an intruder. You wonder what it could be only to discover that it was the sound of one of your dresser drawers opening. The top one, where you kept your underwear, was left hanging open and the materials that were once neatly folded had been disturbed and half hazardly flown back into the drawer. you rushed over to look inside and tried to return it back to it’s organized state, cursing in confusion on how it got this way.
“How the hell did this happen?!” you groan, already starting to fold everything back up and annoyed with the fact that you even had to do so. You were tired from moving and absolutely dreading the idea of having to wake up with only a few hours of sleep and still having to work all day. But you just shake your head and suck it up, tucking the clothes back into the drawer and closing it, sparing the inside one last look just in case there was still a small chance an intruder was hiding inside the small space.
Just as you turn your head around, the sight of a black shadow darting from your closet has you shrieking and falling back against the wall with a thud. “Stay back!” you scream, arms coming up to shield your face. You were scared out of your mind and afraid to even open your eyes to face the person, but when nothing happened you open them only to feel foolish at your reaction. At your feet sat a small black cat, green eyes staring up at you blankly and a piece of bright pink underwear hanging out of its mouth.
You deadpan,“hey! give that back!” you screech, reaching out to snatch it away only for it to dodge your attempt and scurry over to your bed. It seemed to enjoy the janky mattress as it took it upon itself to lay down and begin clawing at the prize it had stolen.
Cautiously you go over to lay back down on your bed, the cat not even sparing your movement a glance. You still decide to keep your distance just in case the creature wants to change its mind and decide to claw at you next. In the morning you plan to try and see if anyone in the building had recognized the beast but there wasn’t much you could do in the middle of the night.
Frustrated, you stare at the cat and raise an eyebrow, looking back and forth between it and your dresser across the room. “how did you manage to get that open, huh?”
the cat just stared back at you without a thought behind its eyes and you shake your head, “now i’m talking to a cat, definitely time for bed.” you say with a sigh, throwing your head back onto the pillow and pulling the comforter up to your chin. For a while you stare up at the ceiling, finding the dream world alluding to you before finally you fall back to sleep. Unbeknownst to you, eyes watched you from the shadows, head fixed in your direction as if it was afraid to turn away. It stood looming, before suddenly it disappeared.
-----
The next day's temperature was not as forgiving as yesterdays but, despite that, you still clutch a large size cup of steaming coffee in your hand as if it was a life saver. Your raggedy hair and the puffy bags under your eyes basically scream sleep deprivation as you walk into the office building. Most of your coworkers can sense the bad vibes radiating off your figure from a mile away.
“Geez y/n did you get mugged on your way to work?” Jimin greeted you upon your arrival to your desk, platinum blonde head swiveling around to glance over your figure. “Or maybe fall in a ditch somewhere?”
You scoff, “Good Morning to you too, asshole.” Your sarcasm had him letting out a laugh just as you place your already half finished drink down and plop heavily into the padded chair on your side of the circular desk. “I wasn’t mugged. I mean- well technically, if you can consider a cat a mugger than yes, I was totally mugged.”
Your response had Jimin raising an eyebrow at you and he leaned back in his chair, “A cat? Really?”
“Yes Jimin, a cat!” you whisper loudly, aggravated. “First it stole my underwear then it proceeded to steal my sleep. I don’t even know where it came from but it must’ve been hell because it wouldn’t leave me alone all night.” you were struggling to keep your voice down the more you started to recall last night.
You should’ve known better than to let a strange cat into your bed but it seemed innocent enough, at least until it tried clawing your eyes out for accidentally rolling over into its spot. Technically all the spots on the bed were yours since it was your bed, but apparently the cat hadn’t got the memo and practically bullied you onto the floor. The hardwood esque flooring sure did look good but, damn, was it cold. You couldn’t have been happier when you saw the little girl frantically running around the hallway as if looking for something this morning, only to let out a cry of happiness when she saw you holding her monster of which you gladly handed over.
“Well that wouldn’t have happened if you had just stayed with Jennie,” you couldn't stop the laugh of disbelief that spill from your lips and just roll your eyes at the idea. Jimin whines and scoots his chair closer to you, “C’mon y/n! It wasn’t even that bad! I swear you just suck at keeping track of stuff, I mean just look at your desk!”
He juts a finger towards your haywire mess of mixed papers and files with a couple of miscellaneous paper clips here and there. You barely even spare him a glance as you start typing away at your computer, pretending as if he hadn’t just suggested the stupidest thing in the world. “Uh-huh sure.”
“Fine, but don’t say I never tried to help you. I did everything I could to find a roommate for you and I honestly thought Jennie would've worked out.” he says with a pout. No matter how many times you two have this same conversation about the situation with Jennie, Jimin always seems to make you feel bad about not being grateful for his help.
It has you letting out a sigh, “I know Jiminie.” you say, using his nickname to try and pacify him, “How about you come over tonight and we can watch the office, hmm?”
Jimin was reluctant to cave in and continues to pout, but finally he concedes and accepts your request, “That was a dirty trick, Y/N. You know I can never say no to the office.” His complaint just makes you laugh.
----
Jungkook didn’t know how long you’d be gone and in that moment he was too preoccupied to care, hands stuffed down in his pants and a familiar wad of cotton shoved harshly against his nose.
The minute you had left this morning, fresh out of the shower and a cup of coffee in your hand, Jungkook had immediately found himself back in your room snooping around and messing with things he knew he shouldn't have been. But he couldn’t stop himself from just taking a peek and since you had left your room in total disarray this morning after stressing over what to wear he didn’t feel like it was totally his fault for picking it up.
When he had first seen it, sprawled across the ground, he thought it was some type of weird string or perhaps some type of headband. It wasn’t until he had seen the distinct victorias secret label printed on the back that he realized just exactly what was in his hand. At first he was just going to place it back where he had found it, embarrassed with the fact that he had even picked up something so intimate, but when he remembered just how infatuated the cat was with the item last night he began to wonder what made them so great. That train of thought somehow had turned into him stuffing his nose into the material instead. When he first placed his nose against it, he was hesitant, but instantly the aroma had his eyes slipping shut and a groan escaping past his lips.
“F-fuck!” he moans, hips canting up into his hand as he continues stroking at himself. His member had gotten hard so fast after smelling the lingering scent of you on the thong that he had wasted no time in unzipping his pants and palming at himself. At some point, he had pulled his cock out entirely and started thumbing at the weeping head, precum making the slide even easier.
Your underwear was practically glued to his face at this point and all he could smell was you as he continues sniffing at the material, whines escaping past his lips every time he caught a particularly strong scent. Jungkook jerks tirelessly at himself, head thrown back and fingers gently squeezing at the base on every downstroke in an attempt to hold off the inevitable, but he can already feel his abs tightening with a familiar coil.
He bit at his plump red lips, barely even capable of holding in his moans, “Y/N” he groans out as he continues racing towards his climax, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure.
But just before he can reach his glorious orgasm he hears the familiar sound of keys jingling in the door, the entrance of the apartment unlocking. It has him scrambling from his spot where he leans against the wall and hastily pulling his pants up. Briefly he glances at the underwear in his hand, debating on what he should do with it before he slyly shoves it into his pants pocket, disappearing only a second before you burst through the bedroom door.
“Jimin, you better not open the wine without me!” You shout down the hallway, work heels dangling from your hand as you fling yourself onto the foot of the bed. The rest of your work day had been exhausting, all the countless calls and meetings you had to schedule for your boss had you basically itching for a drink. That was the only thing you had in mind when you drove back home with Jimin and you can barely get into your sweats fast enough.
Jimin’s first impression of your apartment was that it was small, alot smaller than he had assumed based on how much you had been bragging about it, but still it was quaint. “No promises!” he replies back from inside your kitchen, already scavenging through your cupboards to find something yummy to eat. Of course it’s empty, he thinks to himself after finding nothing and letting out a sigh of defeat. And, of course, you didn’t have a couch so he was just left to stand there awkwardly, staring into the reflective glass of the wine bottle as he waited for your return.
He quickly finds himself getting lost in his train of thought, mind reeling about all the things he had to do tomorrow at work as he hums unconsciously. But when he peeps the figure that showed up behind him in the reflection, it has him furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. Jimin hadn’t heard the telltale sign of your steps signalling your return so the sight had him spinning around in alarm, only to be met with the same empty space behind him. It has him shaking his head and rubbing at his eyes, chalking it up to his imagination and the stress from the job. When he sees you finally emerge around the corner from the hallway, he holds the bottle out to you. “Here, I don’t think I’m gonna drink much. Already going crazy as it is.”
His words just have you looking at him weirdly before you mutter out a confused okay and lead him back to your room. “Sorry I don’t have a tv yet, but we can still watch it on my laptop!” you express before letting him join you on your bed and pulling up netflix on your computer. You and him manage to get engrossed into the show quick enough, passing the wine bottle back and forth as you two laugh and become a tiny bit tipsy.
The sight of Jimin sitting next to you, so close and on your bed at that, has Jungkook practically fuming. Who was this guy? And why was he in your home? Our home, Jungkook corrects himself. He didn’t like the scene in front of him, jaw tensing and fists balling up next to his side. Finally, he decides that he needs to do something about it.
The incident with the wine bottle earlier had merely been an accident, he was just being nosey and trying to catch a glimpse at the intruder. But this time, as he once again let his shadowy figure show over in the far corner of your bedroom, he was doing it completely on purpose. And to his amusement the movement catches Jimin's attention from over on the bed, unbeknownst to you who is completely occupied with whatever is on the screen. Jungkook sees the man wipe at his eyes again as he did earlier, but instead of disappearing like he had done before, Jungkook merely steps closer, careful not to alert you.
Jimin shoots up from his spot next to you, “AH- I mean I...uh think I need to go to the bathroom!” you raise an eyebrow at his outburst before nodding and pointing him in the direction of the bathroom. He can’t get there fast enough, barely walking into the room before he practically slams the door behind him and leans against it, holding his hand to his chest.
His feet manage to get him over to the sink and he begins splashing water on his face as he tries to wrap his head around what he just saw in your room. Jimin knows he definitely saw something there, or did he? He can;t figure it out and in frustration begins rubbing aggressively at his eyes to try and set whatever had come loose in his mind straight. But when he lifts his head to take a glimpse in the mirror, he practically shits his pants at the face that looms behind him.
“Get out.” Jungkook growls.
Jimin screams bloody murder, “WHAT THE FUCK!” he yells, practically ripping the bathroom door off its hinges as he runs out and down the hall. You hear the commotion and rush out of your room, stopping him in the hallway and trying to get him to calm down. “Jimin, what the hell are you doing?!”
He just ducks around your figure and continues his way towards your front door, “Y/N I don’t know what type of sick prank you’re trying to play on me but I’m leaving. I’ll just see you at work tomorrow.” he says hurriedly, rushing out the door and slamming it behind him.
You couldn’t do anything but stare at the spot from where he had just left in shock, completely confused on what had happened. But you know Jimin had always been weird and you didn’t spend too much time mulling it over before shrugging and heading back to your room. You sigh, “More wine for me I guess.”
After that you proceed to drink yourself into a stupor, falling unconscious with your body hanging halfway off the bed and empty wine bottle still in hand, the sound of your computer still playing in the background. You didn’t know if it was the wine helping you out but not too soon after falling asleep you were already quickly drifting off to dreamland behind your closed eyelids.
“How could you let him in here?”  the same voice from the night before sounds around you. This time you were no longer in your bed, instead you stood in your empty kitchen, pushed up against the counter by the doe eyed stranger. His eyes no longer held the same curiosity and wonder they once had, but anger.
“W-what?” You stutter out, completely caught off guard by his accusing tone. “Let who in where?”
Your confusion only seemed to make him madder and he lets out a growl, “That idiot! How could you let him in?!” His words immediately makes it click, he was talking about Jimin. “This is supposed to be our home not his.”
The boy’s face is full of betrayal and you could tell his feelings were wounded. But the way he was talking was as if the apartment belonged to the both of you and last time you checked, only your name was on the lease. Your gaze is questioning as you continue to digest what he said, staring back at him and detecting the jealousy that was radiating from him. “Why do you care so much? I still don’t even know who you are.”
The internal battle showed on Jungkook's face, why did he care so much? He didn’t know why he was becoming so possessive over you, but the look on your face had him sighing. He raises a familiar hand up to your cheek, hesitating when your glare didn’t waver and hovering it there until you relax into him. His starry eyes gazed into yours, “I’m sorry.”
Your face softens at his words and you nod to show that you accepted his apology. The boy continues to look you over as if trying to memorize every feature of your face and when he seems to find what he’s looking for in them he begins leaning his head down closer. Your breath hitches in your throat at the action and you wait with bated breath as he slowly puts his mouth against yours. His lips are so cold to the touch it has you gasping, goosebumps rising on your skin, but you quickly adjust to the difference and with a sigh you begin returning the action.
It seemed like he was only waiting for your approval because as soon as you start moving your lips back against his, he begins deepening the kiss. The hand that once laid on your cheek begins moving down to grasp your neck gently, no real pressure there but the intention all the same. His other hand also finds its way to your hip, pulling you closer to his own so that you are pressed chest to chest with the counter still against your back. He nips at your bottom lip causing you to let out a hiss and giving him an opening to slide his tongue in between your lips and run over yours.
The kiss was beginning to have an effect on you and at that point you are practically chasing after his lips, straining on the tips of your toes to apply the same amount of pressure back against him. Jungkook notices you struggling and lifts you up onto the counter, setting you down and beginning to trail his lips down your neck. Immediately he begins leaving bruises in his wake, teeth nipping at any expanse of skin he can find. It has you hiccuping out small moans and gasps as your nails dig into his shoulders.
“Uh I need...please...” You breathe out, words hesitating.
“Jungkook.” he mumbles against your neck. “My name is Jungkook.”
Beep!Beep!Beep!
The annoying sound of your work alarm has your eyes snapping open, chest heaving from the scare and you immediately sit up straight and begin looking around your room as if searching for something. When you finally realize you’re alone, you relax back into bed and stare up at the ceiling, trying to wrap your head around the small amount that you recall from your dream.
Raw bitten lips and soft hands trailing down over your figure flashed behind your eyelids and had you shuddering. You can't match a face to the mouth and hands that had roused such a reaction out of you and it frustrates you that you were grasping at straws trying to remember. The lingering feeling of lips on your neck sends a throb directly to your core and you can tell your skin was flushed. A deep sigh escapes you, “I need a cold shower.”
The dream stayed at the forefront of your mind the entire time you got ready even when you were in the shower, itching for relief to take yourself where the dream hadn’t. But since you were already late for work and rushing as usual, you didn’t have the time to do anything besides just wash yourself up and begin looking for something to wear. Upon opening the top dresser of your drawer to look for a set of underwear you’re met with the sight of gaps in your meticulous organization system. Not only was your favorite pair of comfortable work underwear missing but so was a thong you reserved specifically for going out. It has you tilting your head in confusion as you sweep your eyes around the room to see if they had been misplaced but with time ticking you couldn’t do much more and just chalk it up to them being in the laundry before finishing up and heading off to work.
As the next couple of weeks was spent busy with work and assignments you barely had much time to spend on yourself. However, an upside to the countless hours of labor your boss had you doing was ultimately getting a paycheck and as soon as you got your next one you began shopping to furnish the apartment. Of course you save some of it to go towards next month's bills and you get most of the new pieces from the swap meet but still it was something. Plus it looked like you were going to have to open up a savings account just to go towards a new collection of underwear as every week a new pair seemed to get lost despite there not even being that much space to hide.
“It's like they’re evaporating into thin air or something and I have no idea where they could be. I literally looked everywhere, Yoongi.” You tell your friend as two you sit enjoying a hot cup of coffee at a cafe down the street from his studio.
“Hmm well maybe that cat really liked how your underwear tasted.” His response was simply met with a face full of napkins.
Despite Yoongi’s snide remark it does have you thinking. Perhaps that kid's cat was still sneaking back into your apartment, I mean it did it once it could do it again for all you know. But you didn’t have time to get all worked up about it and just decide to buy some cheap off brand granny panties from the supermarket to get yourself by. Good thing the weekend was right around the corner and when it finally came you knew exactly what you were doing.
The sound of hot rushing water has your shoulders instantly relaxing, your hand swirling a cup of sweet smelling red wine as you stand watching the water rise. Nothing and you meant nothing felt better than when you finally sink down into the old porcelain tub, steam opening your pores as the water sloshes around your shoulders. “Fucking finally.” you mutter to yourself with a sigh, head laying back on the towel you had folded neatly behind you. Instantly it was like the weeks of stress from moving in and working nonstop melts off your bones and you feel ten times younger. You almost forget that you had done all of this to have a better life, not drive yourself into the ground.
You can’t help but let your mind drift back to the memories of the dreams you had been having almost every night. The kisses and touches from the faceless stranger quickly stirring up heat in your center. It seemed like every dream was only getting more and more exciting but just before you would find yourself trying to escalate it beyond just the sweet taste of his lips, you would wake up more frustrated than before. Your body was practically begging for it, but you just continued to push it off, shoving down your sexual frustrations for nex time. Problem is there was never a next time and you didn’t remember the last time you had an actual orgasm.
Slowly your hand begins tracing circles on the apex of your thighs under the water as you contemplate it, “Maybe it has been a long time.” you whisper to yourself finally caving in. Without a second thought your hand takes the leap, sinking down further to rub at your aching cunt that you had neglected for so long. A long drawn out sigh escapes as you feel yourself getting worked up, fingers quickly finding the bud that was nestled between your lips. It has your back arching from where it met the tub and legs spreading to accommodate your hand.
You spend a couple minutes toying with yourself just like that, one hand rubbing at your clit and the other flicking your nipples teasingly. But you know you wouldn’t be able to fully reach your climax sitting in there and decide to take it back to your room, cunt throbbing impatiently while you dry yourself off and drain the bathtub. Since it had been so long since you had indulged yourself like this, you decide to treat yourself and pull out your handy dandy vibrator. A not very big but still mighty sleek black rabbit with gold trim and over seven power settings. You don’t waste much time teasing and immediately you’re holding the toy against yourself, set to one of the highest vibrations.
“Shit!” You moan out, a laugh escaping as you already start to feel the signs of your orgasm approaching. You bite at your lip to try and conceal some of your noises, still stuck in the habit of trying to be quiet for the sake of a roommate. But it feels so good a couple managed to slip by as you pick up the pace of the vibrator, hips thrusting up to meet your motions.
You’re so distracted you don;t see Jungkook over in the corner of the room who watches intently from his spot. He had tried to be courteous when he caught you fondling yourself in the bathroom, you were a woman and you did have needs. But when he sees you pull that toy out of the small box you hid in your drawer and start holding the buzzing object against your clit he couldn’t look away. Jungkook had always wondered what you kept in there but didn’t particularly care enough to check, he was too preoccupied with stealing your underwear.
So as he continues to watch, eyes sweeping over your naked figure from head to toe as you quiver in pleasure, Jungkook can’t stop the hand that had found itself unconsciously pulling his cock out of his pants. From his spot he can see the way your nipples pebble in the open air and the point where the toy met your mound. His hand takes up the pace you held as you fuck yourself swiftly.
“A-ah feels s’ good…” you whine to no one in particular, mind conjuring up images of a man with dark brown hair and sultry eyes that sang of corrupted innocence. You didn’t know where the inspiration came from but it has you throwing your head back in welcome and exposing the apex of your throat as if asking for something. Secretly, Jungkook knows what it was you wanted and has to hold himself back from going over there and giving it to you.
“So good for me.” he whispers to himself, trying to keep the groan he wants to let out at the sight down to keep from alerting you. He just spits in his hand to make the glide easier as he starts thrusting into his hand, imagining the tight squeeze was your weeping cunt.
The buzz of the toy rings loud in the room along with the sound of your whines and moans as you continue rubbing it against your bud, occasionally slipping it down to tease at your entrance. The palm of your hand must've accidentally clicked the button on the end because suddenly kicking up to the last setting and your mouth opens in a silent scream. You can’t do much but just take it, hips raising off the bed and head thrown back with your eyes rolling back. Your legs are shaking with pleasure and suddenly the string that was holding your climax back snaps and you’re tipping over the edge.
“Jungkook!” you scream out, mind going blank and calling out a name you had never heard but still sounded so familiar. It has said man cursing and almost doubling over as cum bursts from the leaking tip of the swollen member in his fist. The pleasure ringing in your ears was too loud to hear the moans that he let out and you just continue letting the shockwaves roll through your figure, chest heaving from the effort.
When you finally come down from your high, you can only stare at the ceiling, limbs like jelly. The calming feeling of the orgasm warming you from the inside out has you smiling in content as you roll over and take a minute to collect yourself. Jungkook just continues to watch you silently, cock tucked back in and hand still covered in his own cum. His face holds a look of concentration as he internally weighs the pros and cons of the plan he was conjuring up in his mind because deep down, he knew he needed to have you.
----
A hand trailing up your side is what initially catches your attention, but what has you coming to was the feeling of teeth nipping at the nape of your neck. You don’t recall falling asleep but you recognize the touch and immediately know it’s the stranger that was visiting you every night. You crane your neck to catch a glimpse and meet his gaze, eyes simmering with lust.
“Don’t tease…” You whisper, voice breathy as you find yourself already starting to get riled just from the feeling of his fingers rubbing against your skin. He just smiles and places a gentle kiss on your lips, letting out a mischievous chuckle when he sees you try and chase after his mouth.
“I don’t plan to.” he says and flips you over onto your back, broad figure coming up to hover above you. Immediately his lips find your neck, his favorite place to start, and he begins trailing down to your chest all the while leaving hickeys in his wake.
All you can do is watch as he sets a torturous pace between lavishing at the swell of your breast and gently kissing the skin. When he finally decides to take one of your hard nipples into his mouth it has you letting out a whine, “Ah!” you cry, hands coming up to grip his shoulders. You feel his smile against your skin at your reaction. His smugness has you biting your lip, deciding to hold in your noises so as to not give him the satisfaction.
He notices your stubbornness as his eyes find yours and he mumbles against the mound he was still licking at, “Don’t try and fight it Y/N. I want to hear how  pretty you sound.” he says before gently nipping at the bud in his mouth making you hiss.
You want to shoot him a glare for his roughness but can’t stop your eyes from slipping shut when you feel his tongue flick over the nipple as if to soothe it. He just watches as you start to let yourself relax into his teasing, hand straying down your hip to cup your cunt. Your hips jump at the sudden touch but when he starts rubbing a fingertip up and down your slit, smearing your wetness around, you breath out a moan and toss your head back against the pillow. The slow build of pleasure he was giving you felt so good but was quickly making you frustrated.
“Please, I feel so empty.” you say and buck up into his hand. He pulls his hand away in retaliation and waits for you to calm down, which you do regrettably with a whine. When he sees you finally start to behave his hand goes back to its ministrations, this time rubbing at your clit. He continues this for a while along with alternating back and forth between both of your breasts. Occasionally his fingertip finds its way down to your entrance, dipping in just enough to give you a taste and make you moan at the stretch before pulling back and going back to the bundle of nerves. The pleasure feels so good and you quickly become distracted by the climbing climax you feel stirring in your core. It all felt so real it was hard for you to believe that you were dreaming.
Jungkook feels his heart swell at the sight of your hips grinding down on his hand in your sleep as you let cute little moans slip out of your mouth. After watching the show you put on earlier in the night, he couldn’t help but let himself sneak into your bed no matter how bad he felt about it. And you had made it so easy for him, falling asleep naked atop the covers like this. It was like you were begging him to touch you.
But he wants more of you “I just want a little taste.” he mumbles to himself, followed up by him scooting down your legs, face stopping right above your mound. His hands take up residence on your thighs so he can pull them apart as he stares hungrily at you.
Feeling the stimulation you were so desperately chasing after in your dream stopping so abruptly has you stirring in your sleep and when you feel the cool air touch your exposed cunt your eyes open, still heavy with sleep. When you realize that the hold on your legs you had been feeling hadn’t stopped with your lucidness your drowsiness completely vanishes.
“Wha’?” you question as your gaze flits down to where you feel the touch between your legs. Seeing the stranger you had been dreaming about for so long right here in front of you has your heart leaping up into your throat and you freeze. You open your mouth to protest but are silenced when you feel his tongue lick a fat stripe up from your entrance to your clit causing you to moan wantonly. The way he was using his fingers to spread your lips open had you whining in embarrassment from feeling so exposed. “Please!” you cry out, but whether it was a plea for him to stop or to keep going you didn’t know.
Jungkook can feel himself hardening at the sound of your cries, but right now the need to devour you was stronger than his need to cum. So when he doesn't hear any more complaints and your hips continue to chase after his mouth, he takes it as a sign to keep going, tongue licking up all the arousal that's leaking out of you.
The taste of you dripping into his mouth and down his chin has him letting out his own moans and in an effort to get more it delves into your hole and begins thrusting it in and out. He could feel your spongy walls squeezing down onto him and knew that you were probably getting close, especially since he had spent so long teasing you while you slept. So Jungkook decides to take mercy on you and brings a thumb up to rub at your clit, matching the rhythm of his tongue.
“Oh god!” you moan, hands gripping onto the dark mop of hair atop his head to ground yourself as your legs shake in his hold. The stimulation of being filled and having someone else finally touching you this way after so long was getting too much. And you were still sensitive from earlier when you had used your vibrator on yourself and his assault on your clit was bordering on painful. But that didn’t stop the pleasure from racking your form as your back arches off the bed and you start spiraling to your end.
Jungkook pulls his tongue away and replaces it quickly with two digits, continuing to push you closer to climax as he gazes at you in pure want. “I want to hear you say my name again.” he breathes out. He sees the confusion that flashes on your face before quickly being replaced when he gives a particular hard thrust with his fingers. “You know it Y/N, just say it for me one more time.”
You can barely register what he’s talking about and your head shakes back and forth as you so desperately chase after your orgasm. He can tell you’re heading over the edge quickly and gives one final thrust, this time curling his fingers inside you to hit that spot he knew would finish you. “Go ahead, princess. Cum.”
His command is what does you in, your body going stiff as you feel yourself cream on his fingers. You let out a drawn out moan, “S-shit! Jungkook!”. The grip you have on his hair is probably ripping out strands, but you don;t seem to care as your body is wracked with pleasure, orgasm ebbing through you. When Jungkook could tell you were starting to come down he slips his fingers out of you and maneuvers out of your hold, backing up towards the end of the bed.
As soon as you’re able to regain your senses it suddenly clicks in your brain what had just happened. The stranger from your dreams was real and he was in your apartment AND he had just given you probably the best head you’d had in awhile. “What the fuck is happening?!” You screech, scrambling upright in the bed and huddling close to the pillows as you hurriedly try to cover yourself and preserve what little modesty you had left. “How are you even here?! And who the fuck are you?!”
Jungkook just sighs, “I’m Jungkook...pretty sure we’ve been over this already.” he mumbles, rubbing at the back of his neck sheepishly. His reply has you sending a glare his way.
“Well how I was supposed to know if that was your real name or not?!”
“You’ve called it out plenty enough times for it to be real at this point.” your leg flew out to give him a kick to the thigh at his snarky response but when your foot goes right through him you let out another screech and scurry off the bed across the room.
“You- you-” Your mind can’t seem to find the right word as you point at the man, hand shaking and eyes wide with fear. “My foot just went through your leg!”
“Yeah I can do that sometimes.” Jungkook says and proceeds to turn transparent, pale skin no longer looking solid but as if you could stick your hand straight through and he would come out unscathed. “I’m a ghost Y/N.”
All you could do was stand there, mouth agape and brain going completely haywire at his words. For a minute Jungkook thinks he has completely broken you until he watches as you calmly walk over to your closet to pull out some sweats and a shirt, dressing yourself before starting to head out of the room. He was confused but still got up from his spot on the bed to follow you as you proceeded towards the front door. “Wait! Where are you going?!” he says.
You turn on the heel of your foot and just stare at him bewildered, “There is a man, claiming to be a ghost, who can turn transparent in my apartment. I am going to check myself into the psych ward because I am obviously going nuts.”
Jungkook looks at you in concern. “Y/N I’m serious! I’m a ghost, I used to live here. I don’t know how long I’ve been like this but I can assure you that I’m no longer alive.” he could see you starting to realize the seriousness in his voice, “Trust me, you’re not crazy.”
Your gaze stays trained on him as you continue to digest what exactly he was saying before you seem to finally accept his claim. It has Jungkook visibly relaxing as he lets out a sigh of relief. But now that you knew you weren’t losing your mind your sense of curiosity was sparked. “Um if you don’t mind me asking..how exactly did you get like-” you gesture wildly to his figure “-this.”
He bites at his lip anxiously, “You mean how did I die?” you seem to have realized how invasive your question had been because he saw the embarrassed look that crossed your face as you nod nervously. “I don’t..I don’t really remember. I mean I guess I do? But it’s kind of a blur and I’ve never been able to piece it together no matter how hard I’ve tried.”
The two of you stand in silence for a while, awkwardly standing in the middle of your empty living room. You didn’t really know what to say, torn between both the fear and wonder that came with having a ghost in front of you. “Do you want me to leave?”
Jungkook's question catches you off guard. “What?! No no, I couldn’t make you do that!”
“Are you sure? I mean I don’t have anywhere else to go but its not like I could die-”
“Jungkook, it's honestly fine! This was your home first!” you say trying to get him to remove any thought of him not being welcomed, “As long as you um...stop popping up in my dreams and all that.” Your words have him blushing, cheeks blooming red and eyes widening in embarrassment.
“Yeah yeah no completely valid. I’m really sorry I don’t know why I did that. I didn’t think it would escalate that far.” Jungkooks words flow out of his mouth so fast they jumble together. “I'll return your underwear too.”
That has you letting out a sound of realization as you put two and two together, “You’re the underwear thief?! I thought that stupid cat was doing it!” He just chuckles nervously and bashfully looks at the ground as he plays with his hands, hating how much of a pervert he must’ve sounded like. You giggle at his reaction, “It’s okay Jungkook. We can just put that behind us, yeah?”
His face lights up with a small smile, those bunny teeth you remember vaguely seeing peeking out from behind his lips. “Yeah that would be great.”
After the two of you talk a little more about how everything would work around here from now on, you both part ways, you going back to your bed and Jungkook going to wherever he went at night. Briefly you hope that wouldn’t be your dreams but the twinge of absence you feel at the thought has you second guessing that maybe that hope was misplaced.
Over the next couple of weeks the two of you begin to settle into a bit of a routine. He was kind enough to respect your boundaries after your talk and, much to your delight, actually returned a few of your underwear to your drawers. Jungkook even went as far as to start making your coffee for you in the morning. “I know you hate having to rush to work so I just thought this would make it easier for you!” was his excuse. You had felt your heart skip a beat when he said that, grin stretching across his face sheepishly along with a blush.
Everything was going so smooth it almost felt normal, well as normal as living with a ghost in your apartment could be. But if there was one thing you can complain about, it was the sexual tension that undoubtedly remained around the two of you no matter how hard you had tried to push it down. You could feel it when he sometimes caught you coming out of the bathroom fresh out of the shower and only covered in towel, his eyes following the droplets of water as they flowed down your skin. Or how when you got back from a run and your body was covered in so much sweat your shirt clung to every part of your chest and his gaze couldn’t help but follow your pert behind as you walked past him in those godforsaken tight exercise shorts. It was killing the both of you.
You can’t even try and calm yourself down either as you’re too paranoid that he would accidentally catch you or be spying on you from somewhere in the shadows. Him catching you in the act wouldn’t even be the problem actually, but him hearing you call his name out while you did it is what you would never be able to live down. The man was the focal point of all your fantasies at this point and there was no guarantee that you would be able to stop yourself from calling out for him in the heights of pleasure.
But as the days ticked by and you felt your muscles grow stiff from work, the itch at the back of your head telling you to just cave in and give yourself just a tiny bit of release grew more persistent. Today had been a particularly bad day, your horniness making you so antsy that even Jimin noticed judging by the weird looks he was sending you the entire time you two sat at your desks. And when Jungkook greeted you once you got home you didn’t even have it in you to meet his eyes, only squeaking out a small ‘hi’ before rushing past him. You had planned to just ignore it like you had been doing so far but that seemed to be easier said than done.
Tonight Jungkook had suggested that you guys watch something new he said was premiering tonight. And since all your new furniture had been delivered, the two of you would be able to sit and watch it on the tv at a safe distance instead of having to share your bed and huddle entirely too close over your small laptop.
The movie was actually pretty good once you start watching it and not internally screaming at being in the same room as the man who made you want to jump on his dick at any second. Your attention became completely absorbed in the screen, so much so that you forgot that Jungkook was even sitting down on the couch from you. But when the mood in the scene suddenly changes and the two feuding main characters start tearing each other's clothes off (talk about plot twist) you gulp. Suddenly you’re all too aware of how easily it would be to just scoot over and climb on top of his lap.
You try to focus your mind on anything but the moans coming from the movie but after being so pent up, just watching the shots of pleasured filled faces has your core throbbing. Images of the dreams you used to share with Jungkook run through your mind and you can’t stop yourself from rubbing your thighs together in an effort to relieve some of the ache between your legs.
Next to you, Jungkook could tell that what was happening in the movie was affecting you. He had tried to be on his best behavior these past few weeks as he was trying to make up for the bad impression he made when you first moved in. But he can see the movement of your thighs and was barely holding on to the shred of chivalry he had left. Maybe if he just offers you a little help it would be okay?
“Y/N-” he starts out, reaching a hand over to touch your leg in an effort to catch your attention. Immediately the feeling of his warm palm laying on you after so long has you letting out a small moan escape your lips, your hands slapping over your mouth the minute you realize. You shut your eyes in embarrassment and you can feel your face flushing with heat.
Jungkook opens his mouth to say something but you can’t bear to hear it. “I’m going to my room!” You say hopping up from the couch and rushing down the hallway to your bedroom, the sound of the door slamming shut behind you ringing around the apartment. You’re completely mortified by what happened out there in the living room. Were you that horny that just a simple touch had you wanting to risk it all?
Your back was pressed against the door and your mind was racing as you internally curse at yourself. But the sound of a knock on the door has you jolting up as you squeak, “Go away!”
You hear Jungkook shuffle on the other side of the door, “Y/N? Can you open the door? I just want to talk.”
“Jungkook, I’m fine! I just need a minute!” You lie and hope that he believes you. But of course, this was Jungkook, and he pays no mind to your words as he walks straight through the closed door. Fuck ghosts and their stupid nonsolid bodies. “Jungkook, I thought we talked about you not using your weird ghost powers to invade my privacy!”
“You didn’t give me much of a choice, I asked nicely.” He says while raising his hands up innocencently. You sigh exparrated and crossed your arms in irritation before turning your back towards him. “Y/N, when are you going to stop pretending?” Jungkook says from behind you.
His question makes you stiffen as you know exactly where he was heading with this. “...Pretending about what?” you say feigning cluelessness.
“Pretending that you don’t want me.” the response makes you gulp, heart pounding in your chest. You hear him step closer, “I see the way you look at me..and I know you see the way I look at you too.”  The feeling of his hand landing on your shoulder makes you gasp before suddenly you’re turned around and pulled closer to his chest, your head tilting up to look at his face. His eyes are staring deep into yours and you can see the lust swimming in them, it has you biting at your lip. Jungkooks gaze follows the movement.
“Jungkook, I…” you trail off as you get lost in his dark irises, feeling the tension in the room start to grow. “I need you.”
At that, he squeezes you tightly in response “You have me.”
Jungkook didn’t waste time before walking you backwards towards the bed, both of your hands scrambling over each other's body as your lips locked. There was so much pent up want between the both of you that you didn't even take time easing into it, teeth nipping at each other's lips and your tongues fighting for dominance. When you feel the edge of the bed knock against the back of your knees you sit down, pulling Jungkook down over you as you lay spread out across the sheets.
His broad shoulders tower over you making you feel so small compared to him, but inwardly you love the feeling of being completely overpowered by the man. Jungkook breaks the kiss to pull his shirt off, tossing it somewhere in the room before he dives back down to start mouthing at the corner of your jaw. “Hmm take this off.” he says as he tugs at your top. You don’t need much convincing and slightly raise yourself to lift it over your head, Jungkook backing up to accommodate the movement. You hadn’t been wearing a bra as you normally didn’t when lounging around the apartment so when Jungkook catches sight of your pert nipples hardening in the exposed air he lets out a groan. “Y/N, I fucking love your tits.”
His crude compliment makes you laugh but it’s interrupted when he takes a bud into his mouth, his hand coming to fondle the other one. He rolls your nipple between his teeth, alternating between flicking it with his tongue and sucking on it. His ministrations has your back arching into his embrace as you let out small breathy gasps. You can feel his member hard in his jeans against your leg and reach down to tug on the waistband of the pants. “Jungkook, come on. Wan’ you.” you mumble, quickly growing impatient.
He just chuckles and pulls away from your nipple, a string of saliva connecting his lips back to it. He heeds your bratty command and pops the button of his pants, standing up briefly to pull them down along with his underwear. The sight of his cock has you squeezing around nothing. In all your dreams you had never gotten so far as to him inside you, so seeing it for the first time was breathtaking. It wasn’t big per se but it certainly was longer than average and it had girth to it that would definitely have you stretching to accommodate. A couple small veins run up the side of it and your eyes follow them up to the bright red head that had already begun leaking with precum.
It has you rushing to take the rest of your clothes off as well, tossing them to the side before looking up at him lustfully, parting your legs in welcome. His gaze instantly lands on your cunt, watching your hole twitch as if begging to be filled. It has his breath catching and he crawls his way back over you, one hand placed next to your head to hold himself up while the other trails down your side and in between your legs.
You whine when you feel his finger prod at your entract instead of what you really wanted. He let out a chuckle at that, “Sorry princess I have to get you prepped first.” he says, a digit circling around your entrance to spread your arousal. When he deems it slick enough, he finally dips his finger inside you, moving it in and out slowly, occasionally curling it up to rub at that soft spot inside you.
“uh!” hiccup moans leave your lips as you lay back with closed eyes, letting him stretch you open in preparation. The feeling of a second finger has you gasping a little, but to ease the intrusion you feel him bring the pad of his thumb up to gently toy with your clit. He feels more of your arousal leak out around his fingers and uses that to slide in a third, the stretch of your walls making his cock twitch. He continues thrusting them for a while, listening to your sounds of pleasure before he starts scissoring them inside of you.
The pace his fingers take up pushes you to the edge and the combination of his thick fingers inside you hitting your g spot and the assault on your clit was what did you in. “Jungkook!” you cry as you climax, hips bucking to meet his hand as you cum.
He watches you intently as you topple over the edge, not stopping his fingers but slowing them down enough to ride you through your high without it being painful. You can feel your high coming down and open your eyes to look at him, biting your lip at how sexy he looks over you. “Jungkookie..” you sigh, hand trailing up his abdomen.”Wan’ your cock.”
Your words have him groaning as his member lets out another drop of precum on his thigh. He wants so badly to be inside you already but he knows the minute he is, he would be done for and it would be over too soon for his liking. So instead he proceeds to pull his fingers out, stuffing them between his lips and moaning at the taste. You watch him hungrily, already feeling empty without something inside you.
Jungkook pulls his fingers out of his mouth with a pop before trailing his mouth down your torso, nipping and sucking at the skin. He mumbled against your skin, “Just want to taste you first.” His nose bumps your clit when he finds his way between your legs causing your hips to jump at the sensitivity. He soothes it over with a lick, but that just has you pushing at his head. “I’m too sensitive!” you whine, trying to shut your legs.
He tuts and holds your legs open, tongue continuing to draw circles around the bundle of nerves. “Just one more, princess. One more and I’ll give you my cock, okay?”
You hesitate for a second, not knowing if you have it in you but nod in the end, afraid if you didn’t he’d never get inside you. Jungkook smiles at your confirmation and gives your thigh a kiss then goes back to licking at your clit. His tongue trails up and down your slit, dipping in and circling around your most sensitive areas. It has you turning into a panting mess especially when he finally decides to stop teasing you and cups you entirely with his mouth, proceeding to devour you as if he was starving. You can feel the juices leaking down between your lips and know the sheets were going to be an absolute mess in the morning but you don’t care, hips riding his face as your orgasm begins to build.
“S-shit!” you squeak, gripping on the sides to ground yourself as your thighs squeeze around his head. Jungkook moans at the suffocation, pace picking up as he licks up every last drop of you. It’s the vibrations from his sounds of enjoyment that has you creaming around his tongue. This time he stops once he knows you’ve cum, not wanting to push your sensitivity too much just yet, and kisses his way back up to your lips. You taste yourself in his mouth but you don’t care as you let him kiss your already raw bitten lips.
“You were so good for me, princess. ‘m gonna fuck you now.” you moan at his words, nodding your head almost embarrassingly fast.
Your legs part around his hips as you look down between your legs, seeing his rock hard member already poking its tip at your entrance. Jungkook braces himself before slowly sliding the tip inside you, both of you moaning at the feeling. His head throws back and his eyebrows furrow as he concentrates on trying not to bust his load just from entering you. “So tight..f-fuck y/n.”
You feel the same, already feeling like you’re gonna cum just from the way he stretched you out. You swear you can feel him in your stomach and he hadn’t even gotten all the way in. Your legs find their way around his hips, pulling him in closer before finally you feel the tip of his cock sit snugly against your cervix. Above you, Jungkook’s breathing heavily and you grow impatient, squeezing your walls down on him. He growls, “y/n if you keep doing that I’m not gonna be able to last long enough to make you cum.” he complains, voice strained.
You smirk and squeeze down around him again, relishing in the strained noise he makes. “Then you better hurry up and fuck me, ghost boy.” He just sends you a glare and starts pulling his hips back. For a second you think he’s going to pull out of you completely, afraid that your teasing angered him enough to stop. But instead he thrusts back into you hard, knocking the wind out of you and making stars light up in your eyes.
Instantly he takes up a rough pace, hips snapping against yours so hard you moan in both pleasure and pain. “so- so big..” you hiccup.
He growls at your words, cock picking up the pace “you like that, yeah?”
“I love your cock- i love it- ”  you cry, using your legs around his waist to help you fuck yourself down onto his cock.
Jungkook pounds you with such speed it has you breathless and you can’t even form coherent words, slurring out jumbled words. He just continues rolling his hips against you as you fall apart beneath him “such a dirty slut. Fucking yourself on my cock like this.” he laughs as he sees you don’t even stop at his words. “I bet you wanted me to see you fuck yourself on that vibrator, huh? The way you called out my name like that as if I was the one in your slutty pussy.”
“yes- yes fuck me harder-” you sob around the words from pleasure, nails scratching down his back. “-wanna be your slut jungkook-”
He fucks you without mercy. You don’t even register when you feel his finger prod at the entrance to your ass. “Fuck you gonna let me in here, princess? Let me make you feel even better?”
You’re gasping with every thrust he gives and can’t respond, just letting out a chorus of “ah!ah!ah!”
He takes your lack of response as a yes and uses the liquid leaking from between the two of you as lube as his finger breaches the entrance. His hips falter at how you suck him in, “fuck! Princess, you're just begging for something to fill you up in there huh?”
Jungkooks asking too many questions and you don’t even know what he’s talking about. Too caught up in the pleasure of how his cock knocks at your womb with every thrust.
His hips snap forward to meet yours, rough enough to leave bruises, and he growls down at you “answer me” he says.
You can't stop the sounds of pleasure that tumble from between your lips as you answer through the fog “yes, yes, yes-” you moan “fill me up- i want your cock-” “You already have my cock princess, remember?” his hips grind against yours as he sits snugly inside. “You want another? Hmm so greedy, but since you asked so nicely.” Your mouth opens in a silent scream, eyes rolling back into your skull so you can see the white of them. His cock is already pounding inside you, so why does it feel like he’s inside your ass now too?
Both members move in tandem inside of you. As soon as one pulls back, the other one is pushing back inside. Your mind is too far gone to understand how he’s doing this but you don’t care. I’m in heaven you think to yourself, tongue lolling out your mouth.
Above you Jungkook is grunting as he continues to pound you into the mattress, face strained from the effort. He can feel his end approaching and decides he needs to get you there first so he reaches down to stroke at your clit, matching the aggressive pace of his hips.
“Too much!” you shout “‘s too much- i can’t!”
“yes you can.” he growls, each syllable paired with a thrust as he races to the edge. “Go ahead and cum princess.”
Your body thrashes uncontrollably underneath him, curses flying from your lips. Your climax is rising and burning through you and it feels so good, his cocks feels so good pounding inside you. suddenly you’re crashing down and your mouth slacks open letting out lewd, drawn out moans as you cum,
reaching his own high, jungkook moans too, his thrusts becoming shallow and a string of curses flow from his mouth as he slumps down next to you, cock slipping out of you with a squelch. You register the feeling of his seed dripping out of you as both of your holes squeeze around nothing from being empty once again. Your legs shake and you can’t even raise an arm to wipe at the sweat that drips down your face.
He sees you struggling to make yourself comfortable and pulls you close to his chest, shushing you as you reel from the strength of the orgasm you just had. You hum at the feeling, struggling to keep yourself awake.
“Stay with me?” you say, staring up at him drowsily, completely spent.
You know your hair is a complete mess and you smell sticky with sweat but that doesn’t stop Jungkook from looking down at you, dark eyes shining like stars as he whispers, “Always.”
Jungkook held you for the rest of the night and despite the temperature difference, you slept soundly. It was weird having a roommate that you couldn’t tell your friends about or tell them that you were also sleeping with him. Even harder to not be able to tell them you were falling for him. Ultimately, Jungkook was dead and eventually you would have to part ways. But for now you were going to enjoy his ever looming presence, even if that meant your underwear was going to continue to go missing.
(Jungkook still continues to blame the cat to this day)
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smoochkooks · 27 days ago
Text
—champagne problems (m.)
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pairing: jungkook/reader
genre: rich!jk, friends with benefits, slight sugar daddy au, smut, fluff, some light angst because i’m evil
word count: 2.5k
warnings: explicit sexual content, exhibitionism, dom!jk, also bit of possessive!jk if you squint, fingering, dirty talk, degradation, jk calls oc ‘love’<3, oc having a brief moral dilemma while being horny. 
summary: so even if that’s temporary, you are going to stick to jeon jungkook's side, indulge in some sugar babyness, have good sex, drink expensive champagne and listen to trivial problems of the upper-class. when life gives you lemons, make lemonade, right?
a/n: this drabble has been sitting in my drafts ever since sowoozoo happened and blessed us with this look on jk. since it’s my favorite’s boy day, i decided to finish this up. happy birthday, jungkook<3
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It didn’t come to you as a surprise that rich people don’t have the same problems as you, basic humans do. They’re called champagne problems, dilemmas that carry little significance when compared to famine, poverty, inflation or other things only commoners experience on daily basis.
Jeon Jungkook, for example, a womaniser extraordinaire you met two months ago in Stigma, considered buying yet another car for himself a real problem not because he doesn’t have money for that – the black card in his wallet indicates quite the opposite actually. The main obstacle, as he explained to you that night over the second cosmo he oh, so generously bought you, is the limited space in his apartment building's parking lot. He’s currently occupying two spots and the rest is tenanted by others. A pity, truly.
Yet, you listened to him speak about it with nothing less than ardour. The anti-capitalist in you got deadly quiet as soon as the hottest guy in town decided to pay you attention. Putting The Communist Manifesto and your pride aside, you were ready to pounce this man any second. And maybe you weren’t actually betraying your kind that much because frankly, eat the rich applied to your situation perfectly. You could gladly eat up Jungkook.
They say a girl can do a lot to get laid. After bending your morals, the only thing left was your natural charm. And listen, men are easy in theory. But rich men? They are a piece of cake.
Channeling your inner Anastasia Steel, you kept biting your lip, batting your eyelashes, oh, so subtly brushing your palm up his muscled arm – it was all working in your favor. And before you knew it Jeon Jungkook had his hand underneath your skirt on the backseat of the cab and his lips on your neck.
Then he had you on your knees in the middle of his living room, bent over the emerald-green couch, on your back on his enormous bed. Three orgasms later you were nearly delirious, but satisfied nonetheless. Jungkook passed out soon after, his light snores filling the spacious bedroom.
Your best friend would say: “Girl, this is your chance! Rob him and get the fucking away from there!” The thing is, your best friend had never had a dick that good in her life and truth to be told, you really wanted a round two in the morning. Sadly, breaking the law was right after amazing sex in your hierarchy of important things.
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After all, it seemed like Jungkook wasn’t the type to fuck and discard, so you earned the title of his next plaything. You’ve seen them all through his Instagram Stories, and they do have one more thing in common, beside sharing the same experience of sucking his dick – they all seem to be wealthy. Unlike you, a college student with debt and part-time job.
So even if that’s temporary, you are going to stick to Jeon Jungkook's side, indulge in some sugar babyness, have good sex, drink expensive champagne and listen to trivial problems of the upper-class. When life gives you lemons, make lemonade, right?
You aren’t his girlfriend, you’re rather someone in between fuck buddy, therapist and friend, because, surprisingly, Jungkook can become very much chatty after sex. And to your astonishment, he digs quite deep sometimes, opening up about things that, well, aren’t such champagne problems anymore.
And it’s nice. It makes you feel like you’re someone more than a girl he tried to swoon over in the club with the numbers on his bank account.
You like that vulnerability in him, even though it exists only in the confines of his own bedroom, when you’re lying curled around each other after a round of fucking; sweaty and too tired to leave the bed and shower. You know he probably told the sob story about his parents’ divorce to every girl he’s had in his bed but nevertheless, your heart starts stubbornly beating a little faster whenever you’re around him.
And you really spend a lot of time with him. Jungkook, as a wealthy man in his twenties, has a busier social life than the streets of Seoul. Events, cocktail parties, dinners – you name it. He buys you new dresses for each occasion and then slips them off you to fuck you senseless after everything is done.
Tonight, you’re accompanying him to a birthday party. That one friend of his who's a self-proclaimed sex addict and an heir to some food company, has just turned twenty-six. His name is Park Jimin, if you remember correctly. Blonde hair, plump lips, drives Porsche through the streets of Gangnam and all the silly girls falling for his smile and money up the wall.
He's not even here right now and frankly, you haven't seen him ever since he greeted you and Jungkook by the door. His eyes roamed over your body then; up and down, through and thorough, a sly smirk caught on his pillow lips. You weren't stupid, you knew damn well what he said when he leaned to whisper something into Jungkook's ear.
“Will you let me have my way with her? It's my birthday, after all."
Even if you were down for it, you wouldn't have a chance to give into carnality with Park Jimin. The thing with Jeon Jungkook is simple: he doesn't share. What's his, is his. Period.
And ever since he has laid his eyes on you that night two months ago in Stigma, you are his.
(At least until he gets bored and replaces you with someone new. But for now – it doesn't really matter.)
Maybe you are a little bit of a masochist after all, letting him treat you like his plaything, a pretty doll he shows off to everyone in the room and then fucks behind close doors. Even if your relationship has an expiry date, you don’t care. You’re fucking the hottest, richest bachelor in town.
And the sex, God have mercy, is so worth it. For starters: he knows how to make a woman come. Knows where clitoris is and how to use his mouth to have you gushing onto his tongue. Knows just the right amount of pressure to have your head spinning when his fingers are wrapped around your throat.
And maybe it’s because all your past sexual partners have been so dull and incompetent, but needless to say – you let this man do anything he wants to you. And you enjoy every second of it.
Like right now: Jungkook's tattoed fingers are knuckle-deep in your pussy and he shows no signs of stopping anytime soon, or at least not until you're coming around them.
Rich people are nasty. Jungkook's nasty, paying no mind to the surroundings (you could swear there's at least one person in the room who knows what's happening underneath the table) pushing a third finger into the warm crevices of your cunt.  
“Look at you,” he coos, saccharine-sweet voice that has you leaning even closer to him, like you're bewitched. There’s a string of saliva connecting your lips but you couldn’t care less. You will ask him to spit in your mouth one day. “You're dripping all over my hand, love. What if someone sees you like this?”
You mewl, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. You're not an expert when it comes to perfume but there's one thing you know for sure: he smells rich. It's so intense it makes your head spin. Your grip on his button-up tightens as he roughly shoves his fingers inside.
“You'd like that, wouldn't you? You want this people to see what a pretty slut you are for me.” he says. He starts rubbing relentless circles on your clit with his thumb as his digits fuck you open, bringing you closer and closer to the release.
You've never had a man finger you so skillfully before. It's like he knows you inside and out; every little thing that makes you tick, like he knows where to press, push, caress, grip just to see you lose it.
You’ve also never had a man call you ‘slut’ during sex before but there’s something so deliciously fifthly about the way Jungkook says it. You’re not even slightest bit ashamed of enjoying his degrading words. Once Jungkook's hands are on you, feminism leaves your body.
“Say something, love, don't be shy now,” he beckons, slowing down his pace. Your breathing gets heavier and all you could focus on is Jungkook, his fingers sliding through your slick walls and the husky tone of his voice as he speaks right into your ear, “You were begging me to touch you not so long ago. So needy, so desperate,” His unoccupied hand cups your cheek, thumb stroking your burgundy-colored lip. As on cue, your mouth falls open. He pushes his finger inside and like a filthy thing you are, you suck on it obediently. “Fuck.”
It's spoken so soft and quiet you almost miss it. Your eyes lock with his – two charcoals staring at your mouth with so much desire it's almost suffocating. He removes his thumb with a 'pop' and focuses his attention on making you come.
“Please, Jungkook–fuck,” you moan before you could stop yourself, your hips lifting off the chair. You're practically fucking yourself on his fingers now and like the cocky bastard Jungkook is, he smirks seeing you do so.
He kisses your pout away, his tongue slithering inside. It's messy and so nasty, but you find yourself chasing after his mouth when he pulls back to murmur, “Please what, love?”
“I wanna come.” you whimper as tears well in your eyes because it’s all just so fucking intense.
(In moments like this you’re grateful waterproof eyeliners and mascaras exist.)
“Yeah? Wanna put on a show here? God, you're so filthy,” Jungkook rasps. “Come on, cream my fingers like a good girl, then.”
You do exactly like you’re told, your walls constructing around his fingers as you’re being pushed over the edge. He kisses you through it, muffling your moans and cries, letting you ride out your orgasm for as long as you’re capable of.
When he notices you’re wincing from oversensitivity, he withdraws his fingers and without paying it any mind – licks your release off his fingers.
“You’re nasty.” you grumble, seeing him do so.
He smirks. “But you like it when I’m like that.”
Truthfully, that hasn’t been the filthiest thing you’ve done together so far. The title still belongs to the teacher-student roleplay he persuaded you do to, daddy kink and all the shenanigans (e.g. spanking you with a belt so hard you couldn’t sit on hard surfaces the next day) that come with it involved.
You roll your eyes and take a deep breath. Glancing around the room, you notice that no one is really there left beside two unfamiliar men sitting by the minibar and drinking something, their backs facing you. Everyone is either fucking upstairs or getting wasted outside by the pool, judging from the loud cheers coming through the windows.
Suddenly, Jungkook gets up from his chair. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.” he says.
Two minutes later he comes back carrying a bottle of Dom Perignon and two glasses. Before you met Jungkook, you didn’t even know what good alcohol should taste like. As you’re simping on the expensive liquid inside your flute, you can almost taste the luxury.
“I think this is some limited, vintage-edition bottle. Jimin-hyung will kill me if he finds out.” Jungkook chuckles, pouring himself another glass.
At the mention of the birthday boy, you’re now reminded about the exchange between Jungkook and him upon your arrival. Before you could stop yourself, you ask, “Hey, what did he say to you when we came inside?” even though you already know the answer.
Jungkook grimaces. “You don’t want to hear it.”
“Come on, I don’t mind.”
He puts down his flute and sighs. “He asked if I would ever let him fuck you one day,” he says. “He does it with every girl I bring to his parties just to fuck with me because he knows damn that I–”
“That you don’t share.” you finish for him and he smiles sheepishly.
You try not to think how obvious it is that they were other girls before you and will be after you. You knew it that night in the club and still, you let him into your bed. Are you signed up for a possible heartbreak? Definitely. Yet, it doesn’t really matter. Because for now, you are utterly his, you are having fun, drinking expensive champagne and fucking the most handsome guy you’ve ever seen in your entire life. You’re going to live this moment to the fullest.
There are worse things that happen people on this planet and you are not making ‘falling for emotionally unavailable guy’ your own champagne problem.
Then, Jungkook says something unexpected and the whole world stops for a second.
“Would you like to go on a date with me?” he asks and it comes out so quiet that you nearly don’t catch it. Stunned, you stare at him. The man who spoke obscenities into your ear just minutes ago and brought you to the brick of pleasure, is now glancing at you with a boyish smile.
“Aren’t we on a date right now?” you tease.
For a moment, you think that you’re dreaming because there’s no possible way that this is happening, maybe this vintage Dom Perignon is actually too strong and makes him speak nonsense. And yet – here he is, Jeon Jungkook asking you out on a date.
“I want to take you on a real date, love,” he says and your hearts skips a beat. “Not to a night of partying with my friends, not to some fancy dinner with my father's business partners. Somewhere nice, just the two of us.”
Just the two of us.
You’ll think about the meaning and depth of this words sometime later. For now, the night’s still young and one orgasm isn’t enough to satisfy you, so taking the mattress into your own hands you decide to get a little bolder.
You smirk, giddy with excitement. “Fine. But if it’ll suck, I’m going to consider Jimin's proposition.”
Jungkook's eyes narrow. “You wouldn’t.”
You lean closer, until your breath his fanning over his ear. “Dare me.”
When he grasps your writs to follow him upstairs, you know it will be so, so worth it.
1K notes · View notes
untaemedqueen · 3 months ago
Text
Sanative
Husband!Jeongguk x Pregnant Wife!Reader
WordCount: 19.8k
Genre: Angst, Healing, Smut, Marriage!AU
Trigger Warnings: Mentions of Kidnapping, Mentions of Small Amounts of Food
Warnings: Heart Breaking Thoughts, Angst, Healing, Emotional, Praise, Fingering, Begging, Daddy Kink, Thigh Riding, Fellatio, Lactation Kink, Milk Drinking, Throat Fucking, Glazed Donut!OC, Cunnilingus, Degradation, Somewhat Dom!Guk, Sub!OC, Squirting, Rough Pregnant Sex, Finger Sucking, Multiple Orgasms, Creampie
A/N: Soooooo this is a fic I've been working on since February, FEBRUARY! And it's finally done. I'm really so so so proud of this fic. I worked super hard on it. It's a fic about love and healing, coming back to a loved one after something shakes their relationship to the core. It's uplifting and comforting and it makes my heart warm. I hope you guys enjoy it! Really huge thank you to @xjoonchildx​, @ladyartemesia​, @ppersonna​ for sticking with me and reading every little change I’ve made to it!
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Silence -- the absence of sound is sometimes deafening.
In silence, true silence, other sounds tend to bleed in like a gentle hum.
In Jeon Jeongguk's silence everything is always louder -- the clock ticking away seconds, the sound of his own heart beating catastrophically slow, the sound of gentle breathing across the room.
It drives him insane.
It drives him up the wall.
He's been so used to sitting in silence that everything just sounds so fucking loud.
The way nails are currently scratching against the rich fabric of the arm chair across from him.
The sound of a bus honking in the distance.
It all resounds through his skull.
"-Guk. Jeongguk?"
Taking a sharp breath, he looks up at the nail scratching culprit.
"Yes, Dr. Kim," he breathes, loosening his tie.
"Namjoon, please. Do you-Do you want to talk about your progress this week?" Kim Namjoon inquires, looking down at his clipboard.
Guk tilts his head, watching Namjoon's fingers card through the multitude of sheets.
What has he written down?
"There's been no progress this week." he replies, looking down at his lap.
Dr. Kim nods astutely. "Well it takes time for people to come back to themselves… as well as others after what your wife went through. It's only natural."
The only thing that Jeongguk thinks is how unnatural life is at the moment.
"Are you experiencing anger?"
Yes.
"Experiencing grief or loss for what your life used to be?"
Oh, yes.
"Are you trying to be strong for her when you can barely stand on your own?"
Fuck, yes.
"No." Jeongguk states, looking up at the therapist.
Namjoon seems to take a pause to scribble something down and the younger man can't help how he sits up straighter to maybe get a peek at the writing.
"Well, if that's all you feel the need to say, hopefully next week will be more insightful for you. It takes time for someone to get over trauma, this has also been traumatic for you." Dr. Kim announces, intertwining his hands and placing them softly down on the clipboard.
Jeongguk looks at the clock, hearing the telltale ticking that seconds are passing. "Sure. Yeah."
"Next week then, Jeongguk." Namjoon says, giving him a small smile that dimples his chin.
Jeongguk is slow to get up and walk out of the room. Everything feels heavy around him, his own heart has felt like one hundred pounds since you finally came back to him.
But once he's out of the therapy building and in his own car. He can't seem to stop the gut wrenching sob that flies free from his chest.
His eyes screw shut and his forehead slams into the steering wheel.
"Oh, God!" he gasps, tugging and pulling at his tie that feels like a noose around his neck. He fumbles with the fabric before chucking it onto the dashboard with a wail.
"God! Fuck! Dammit! Goddammit!" he screams, slamming his hands against the steering wheel. His hand slips a few times, pressing up against the horn and the sound resounds throughout the almost empty parking lot.
In his swimming misery, all the months without you seem to bleed through his memory.
"Y/N," he gasps, pressing his bruised fist to his forehead and squeezing his bloodshot eyes closed.
One memory always gnaws at him in the silence. It stains his soul like coffee on white fabric.
He's gotten so used to seeing the cream colored walls of the police station that in some sickening way it feels like home.
"Can we go over it again, Mr. Jeon?" Detective Kim inquires, stirring his coffee slowly.
Jeongguk swallows thickly, looking over the man's cluttered desk. His hands shake nervously and his fingers clench and squeeze at the still air.
How many times does he have to repeat himself?
But he's so broken and desperate that he complies.
"My wife went to the supermarket to get groceries to celebrate that she was pregnant with our first baby." he whispers.
Just even stating the words sends his heart bleeding.
How many times does he have to repeat the worst day of his fucking life?
"The Atlantis Market?" Detective Kim inquires, narrowing his eyes at the case file.
He knows this already. Why is he asking?
"Y-Yes, it's where she always goes. She likes the meat better there than any other market." Guk whispers, closing his eyes.
"Right. And when did you notice she was missing?" Kim asks, sipping his coffee.
The slurping is incessant and Jeongguk's eyes spring open at the loud noise.
"T-Two hours she left. She always calls me when she gets to the supermarket. She always stays on the phone with me. She didn't call and hours passed."
He relives it daily and to tell this detective it again for the seventh time is heart wrenching.
"And you don't think that maybe she just ran away? Maybe it wasn't your baby… Maybe she went off with someone else?"
The accusation sends fury coursing through your husband and he bares his teeth at the question.
"She would never leave me. We love each other, we've been together since highschool. I went to that fucking supermarket and found the door to her car open and her car keys on the ground." he seethes, slamming his hand onto the wooden desk.
Detective Kim doesn't move, he doesn't flinch, he just hums in agreement which is insulting enough.
"Right, it says that in this missing person's report. Well, let me just make it clear that she has been missing for three months already. We have no leads and we don't know if we'll ever find her."
"You're the POLICE. It's your fucking job!" Jeongguk shouts, standing up and leaning down onto the desk with his fists.
"I'm just giving you the statistics, Mr. Jeon. No need to act violent." Kim warns, narrowing his eyes up at the broken younger man.
"I'll show you violent. Find my wife. She's fucking pregnant for God's sakes! She's in danger!" he spits, feeling the nervousness grow and peak inside of him.
"Are you threatening a police officer, Jeon Jeongguk?" the detective quips, standing up on his own volition.
"Find my wife!" Jeongguk seethes, kicking the chair over and leaving.
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Getting home, Jeongguk rattles his keys loudly before placing them in the dish by door.
"Baby? I-I'm home," he calls throughout the house.
He's learned over many trials and errors that it's best if he announces himself before entering any room. It seems to calm you in some way.
He finds you in the kitchen, temple pressed to the window as you watch the rain fall onto the back patio.
"It's coming down a lot out there," he breathes, looking you over.
Your hair isn't combed through and you still look pale but you're home.
"Y/N?" he calls softly, setting down the take out onto the kitchen island.
He hasn't been up for cooking lately, he's been too much of a nervous wreck.
You haven't so much as even looked at him since you've been brought back home. But, he's okay with that, just you even being here is perfect.
"I g-got us jjajangmyeon for dinner, I know you really like it from Golden Tiger." he whispers.
He nods a bit when you cup your growing stomach and just stare out the window.
You don't eat with him. You don't like it. It makes you scared.
He finds his chest clenching and he tears his eyes away from you. His fingers card through his long blond hair and he takes a deep breath to try and calm himself.
"I'll just leave it here then. Don't let it get too cold, it won't be yummy." he croaks, grabbing his take out container and a beer from the fridge.
He finds it easier to eat in his home office.
Picking up the black bean noodles with his chopsticks, he stares at the wedding photo of the both of you after you graduated college.
The smile that you give him is so blindingly beautiful and your eyes are alight with love and compassion for your husband.
He stares at it until his eyes are blurry with tears and suddenly he's lost his appetite.
"Fuck," he curses, throwing down his chopsticks and covering his face with his hands.
The silence echoes throughout the office and he can barely string a thought together.
But then his memory cuts through everything and it grounds him with peace even for a minute.
"You look like your brain is gonna explode!" you tease your husband, peeking your head into the home office.
He looks up from his computer, giving you a chuckle and then a pout.
"I'm so swamped with emails," he whines, opening his arms childishly for you.
You can only giggle, skipping over the large rug and sitting on his lap.
He groans teasingly, burying his face into your neck and sighing.
"Why am I so swamped, baby?" he whispers, kissing over your skin.
"Because you're a genius and everyone wants your help with building. What did Forbes say about you last month? Oh yeah! 'Jeon Jeongguk is the world's youngest ever architect that built a skyscraper that exceeds all expectations of reality.' And they're absolutely correct." you beam, planting a sloppy kiss on his cheek.
He laughs gently, rocking you back and forth on his lap. "Man, how did I get a wife that's beautiful, amazing AND smart?"
"Oh, you definitely got lucky." you quip, laughing loudly when he begins to tickle you.
Guk stares at the doorway, bringing the beer bottle to his lips.
"Oh, babe, what am I gonna do?" he breathes, putting his head back to the top of his office chair.
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Jeongguk's bed is cold, it's always cold these days.
You don't sleep with him anymore but he understands, you don't like contact of any kind. He can't imagine what you've been through or what you feel.
You certainly haven't voiced anything about the terrible experience you've been through.
Sometimes he can hear you crying late at night. He can hear your small sobs and it tears him into pieces.
In the moonlit room, he stares at his gold wedding band. His eyes drift to your empty side of the bed and like a child, he grabs your pillow. Burying his face into the soft fabric, he sighs loudly.
The room swallows the sound, and from the guest bedroom down the hall -- he hears your sob.
Guk's eyes squeeze shut and he prays that sleep will finally find him soon.
He's exhausted.
All he does is stare at his phone.
Jeongguk just stares and stares at his phone, willing it to ring and to tell him that you're on your way home.
He's cancelled all his major building projects for the foreseen future and everyone completely understands. Or so they say.
He has enough money to sit in this same exact seat for the next twenty years and wait for the phone call.
He's not fucking giving up.
He's not taking his eyes off the phone for a minute.
He owes it to you, the woman who he's pledged his life to, to get you back.
There's always this feeling -- this rush when a phone lights up.
And that rush only happens to people who are desperately waiting. Whether that be for a job interview, a text from their crush, an email from their boss telling them they got the day off.
But when his phone lights up, he thinks solely of you.
And after months of devastation and painful waiting -- Busan Police Department calls.
"Y-Yes!" Jeongguk screams into the phone, his index finger shakily tapping the speaker button.
"Mr. Jeon? Jeon Jeongguk? We've found your wife. She was left abandoned off the Olympus Expressway."
His nervousness doesn't cease and he feels like he's going to throw up any second.
He doesn't know why the question passes his lips but it does. "Is s-she alive? Is my wife alive?"
"Yes, Mr. Jeon, she's alive, she's being transferred to the Busan Hospital as we speak."
He falls out of his chair, wailing loudly. His hands clamp over his mouth and he gasps for air like he's been deprived of it.
"Mr. Jeon? Are you coming to the hospital? She won't speak to anyone."
His eyes squeeze shut and his heart pounds so loudly, he thinks it might explode.
"Jeon Jeongguk? Hello?"
"Yes! Yes, I'm coming!" he screams, putting his hands to his forehead.
"Any progress this week, Jeongguk?" Namjoon inquires.
Your husband stares straight ahead at the ornate clock on the wall. He shakes his head, swallowing thickly.
"We always sit here in silence, is that really okay for you?" Dr. Kim asks, crossing his legs and pushing his glasses up with his middle finger.
His lips puff out in thought and he sputters them softly. "There isn't… anything to talk about." he breathes, shaking his head.
Namjoon hums thoughtfully, tossing the clipboard onto the table beside him. "I beg to differ. There's a lot of pain in the situation that you're trying not to resurface."
Just the mention has Guk blushing and the first reaction is to get violent. His eyebrows furrow and his nostrils flare at the therapist before him.
"This is painful, Jeongguk. And you trying to bury it deep inside of you isn't going to help."
Your husband scratches at his neck, looking down at his wedding band. He closes his eyes and takes a deep, soothing breath.
"Why don't we try an exercise this week? Hmm? Homework isn't the proper word to call it. Are you up for it?"
Guk sighs, spinning his wedding band on his finger as he thinks. Anything would be better than this. He loves you so much that he's willing to try anything. So he nods.
"When you get home, even if Y/N doesn't talk to you or look at you. Why don't you tell her one of your happiest memories you can think of that involves her? Even though she isn't speaking, she can still hear you. I think that might be healing for you -- maybe her as well." Dr. Kim suggests, smiling kindly at his patient.
There're so many moments, how could Guk pick just one?
"Alright. I can try." he bleats, looking back up at the clock and hearing the seconds tick away.
"Good! Next week we'll talk about how that felt for you."
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Jeongguk shakes his keys, setting them down in the bowl by the door.
"Baby, I'm home!" he calls loudly, sliding his feet into his slippers.
The house feels colder today and he knows that winter will soon be nipping at the world's ankles.
He's a fabulous architect but his heat proofing in this house wasn't the best.
You're sitting on the couch today, staring aimlessly at the wooden floors.
"Are you hungry, babe? I brought you home some chicken soup. It's good for our baby girl." he inquires, walking past you and towards the kitchen.
He sees you thickly swallow and it makes his heart thump harder within his chest.
He leans down on the marble island countertop and he stares straight ahead for a while. He remembers when you first put up the small paintings that make up this large masterpiece above the dining room table. He fell in love with it so quickly.
He feels deathly nervous, like the day when he asked you to marry him.
"Y'know," he begins, he takes a deep breath and he just bares his soul before you, because it's just natural, "I remember the first day I ever saw you. It was in seventh grade and you had on the school uniform but you had these fake red highlights in your hair. They were, like, woven into your ponytail holder."
His fist tucks beneath his chin and he smirks at the memory. "I just knew you were going to get in trouble for it because it was against school code. I remember telling you about it too and you just stared at me and said, 'So?' And I was like, 'Damn, this girl is so badass. I wanna be this badass.' Mrs. Park came up to you and you didn't give a flying shit when she reprimanded you. And I remember that I stared at you like you were the sun. I wanted to know you immediately, I wanted to be by your side. I wanted to be your friend. I was falling in love with you then."
He hums sweetly, wrinkling his nose at the memory.
"I just wanted to say that. I know it's really difficult for you right now. I understand. I can't begin to understand what you went through." Jeongguk breathes, opening up the fridge and grabbing a beer.
When he looks over towards the living room, he can see you staring at him through the turned off television and his eyes suddenly burn with raw emotion.
"I-I miss you." he gasps, putting his hand to his heart.
He stands still for a while, just letting the both of you look at each other after so long. He blinks his eyes rapidly when his tears get in the way of being able to see you.
When you finally look away, he takes a deep breath through his nose.
"I-I'll be in my office. I know you find it hard to be in the same room as me." he breathes, rounding the kitchen island and heading down the hallway.
When he opens the door to his office, he has to cup his hand over his mouth at the sound of your voice.
"I miss you, too."
He slides down the back of the door, pressing his forehead to his knees and he bites down hard on his index finger to quiet his blubbers.
You spoke to him.
"What are you doing?!" you giggle as your husband slides his hands over your eyes.
"It's called a surprise, you've never heard of one?" he quips, kissing the crown of your head.
You hum playfully, folding your arms and relishing in the way his chest contorts against your back.
"Why am I being blinded? What's the surprise?" you inquire, tilting your head until you finally whisper, "Is it something kinky?"
Guk laughs loudly, letting his head loll back. "You fuckin' wish." he teases.
"You're right, I do." you jeer, allowing him to guide you along farther.
"Silly," he chuckles, promptly stopping you.
You feel his hands begin to get a little sweaty and you know this only happens when he's deathly nervous.
"Gukkie? What is it?" you ask sweetly, running your fingers over his bare arms.
"I just hope you like it." he breathes, pressing his lips to the top of your head.
"I like everything you do, Guk," you reply, drifting your nails over his skin.
"Remember in eighth grade I promised you that I would build you a house?"
"Yeah out of popsicle sticks and spit," you guffaw.
He takes a deep breath, pulling his hands away from your face.
When you open your eyes, the bright sun makes you squint but the gasp that leaves you has him stunned into silence.
"Oh my God, Jeon Jeongguk!" you yell, bunching your hands up into your hair.
The house is sleek and modern with asymmetrical shapes and big open windows.
When you turn to him, his eyes are wide with nervousness. "D-Do you like it?" he bleats.
You have no words, instead you decide to tackle him onto the front lawn.
He groans loudly, wrapping his arms around you like always. "Is that a yes?" he chuckles.
"Yes! Yes! I fucking love it! I fucking LOVE it!" you screech, cupping both sides of his face and pressing a wet kiss to his lips.
God, it's fucking cold in this house. Guk shivers beneath the blankets and he can only imagine how cold it must be in the guest room.
He explicitly made it colder so guests wouldn't stay as long.
There is a rule, y'know. Guests are like fish -- they stay for three days and then anything after that, they start to stink.
You must be fucking frigid. But he remembers when he checked on you one night soon after you came home and you screamed so loud that it scared him to his core.
He doesn't want to frighten you.
He tucks his body into fetal position, squeezing his eyes shut in hopes that he'll just pass out sooner or later.
The silence in his room begins to echo like white noise and he can only whine softly.
When he couldn't sleep before you were taken, you used to play the sounds of the sea for him. He can remember the waves crashing against the coastline and a seagull or two crying out high above the water.
He hasn't heard the sounds of the beach in so long.
He lays like this for a long time, just keeping his eyes shut and listening to the heater click and roll every so often.
But then he hears the sound of feet.
Your feet.
They pad slowly throughout the hallway and he takes a sharp breath when they stop in front of the master bedroom.
The door creaks open and his bottom lip purchases between his teeth. He makes no movement. He doesn't know why you're in here but he doesn't want to scare you away.
After a while, the sheets ruffle and your side of the bed dips.
He presses his lips into a thin line, feeling his hands begin to shake with nervousness. He can't possibly move, he wants you to stay right where you are.
You take a sharp breath between your teeth that makes his heart beat faster and when he slowly opens one eye, he can see you rubbing your growing stomach.
He swallows the sob that threatens to escape and he squeezes his eye closed one more.
He finds it comforting to hear the sounds of your shallow breathing. He relishes in it in all honesty. He adores it.
It's the one sound he probably couldn't live without, besides your laughter.
And as he drifts off to sleep, he can hear waves lapping against the shore.
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"So, how was your experiment?" Namjoon inquires.
Jeongguk finds himself smirking, running his fingers through his hair. "I think it went really well."
The therapist sits forward curiously, widening his eyes at seeing Jeongguk give a semblance of a smile for the first time in a month.
"Would you like to share that experience here?" Dr. Kim inquires.
Your husband sighs dreamily, staring down at his wedding band.
"Well I did as you suggested and I told Y/N about the first time I ever saw her. When I looked over at her, she was looking at me for the first time since she came back. It was through the television but… she was really looking at me. I told her I missed her and-and she said it back! Last night, it was freezing in the house and Y/N came and laid down with me in bed." he gushes, putting his hand over his heart.
Namjoon smiles, his deep dimples etching into his cheeks. He quickly writes something down before setting the clipboard aside. He gives your husband his undivided attention, intertwining his hands in his lap.
"Well, that must feel amazing. Especially after feeling alone for so long." Namjoon beams.
Jeongguk nods almost childishly. "It was amazing. I didn't get to touch her and we didn't talk but finally she was in our bed again, y'know? And she told me she missed me too, which felt incredible."
Dr. Kim has seen your husband for a while now and this is the most he's ever said in a one hour session.
It's honestly a relief to see Jeongguk actually coming out of his shell, if only on a miniscule level.
"Well, I think the exercise definitely helped, right? I mean, Jeongguk, this is progress. I'm sure it feels amazing."
Guk nods, leaning back comfortably into the couch. "Yeah," he laughs, "I'm so elated. I don't know what else to say."
Namjoon leans forward, putting his elbows to his knees. "Well then, I think we should make another exercise for you guys."
Your husband listens attentively, crossing his legs and sitting forward.
"Maybe this week we can delve into staying in a room with Y/N. How does that sound? You can stay in a room with her and just talk for awhile and even if she doesn't respond -- that's okay. She was listening to you the other day."
Jeongguk nods, a small smile playing on his lips. "Yeah, I'd love that."
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"Baby? I'm home!" Jeongguk calls loudly, tossing his keys to the side table.
He peeks into the living room and you're not sitting in the same seat he left you in when he left.
His eyebrow quirks up and he looks into the open kitchen only to find an empty space.
His first thought, however terrible it is, is that you've left.
You got so scared that you bolted after sleeping with him in bed last night.
"Y/N?!" he croaks loudly, tossing the bags of dinner onto the kitchen island.
His mind begins to muddle and his hands start to sweat at the simple thought.
He rushes down the long hallway of your home, checking his office, his bedroom, the guest bedroom.
You're nowhere to be found.
"Y/N!" he yells, shoving open the nursery room door.
You flinch gently when the door makes a loud noise and Jeongguk is immediately calmed by your presence.
"I-I'm so sorry. I just thought you left. I didn't mean to scare you, please forgive me." he begs, shutting the door as quietly as he can.
You're staring at the crib your husband bought just a month or two ago.
Before you were taken, this room was completely empty. You hadn't talked about themes or what you would need but while you were away when Jeongguk wasn't staring at his phone, he was setting up the nursery.
He didn't know the gender then, of course, and he only found out at the hospital when you were picked up from the Olympus Expressway but teal was always pretty to him and it's one of your favorite colors.
"I know you like teal so…" he finds himself at a loss for words.
You pick up a small stuffed animal that sits in the crib and hug it to your body.
Jeongguk shifts from one foot to the other uneasily. He just hopes and prays that he hasn't frightened you too badly.
"Do you…Do you wanna talk?" he inquires softly, sitting down on the floor.
You stare at the white and teal abstract paintings that make up the wall.
Your husband looks down at his hands, staring at his wedding band like always.
"I-I know you're having such a difficult time adjusting and God, I can't imagine what you went through but I miss you, baby. I miss you so much. I would stare at my phone all day just waiting to get a call from the police…" he breathes.
He doesn't look up at you, if he does then he might be too nervous to speak his truth.
"If you hate the nursery we can always change it. I just needed to do something. I needed to prepare for you to come home because I knew that you would. I knew you would come back to me."
He can see your feet turn towards him and you slowly but surely make your way beside him before sitting down.
You're about a foot apart but he takes that. He takes anything you want to give him.
"I love it." you breathe, looking down at the teddy bear and running your fingers over the soft fur.
Your voice sends him spiralling and he clenches his hands together to steady himself.
"I don't have a great sense of style like you, so I just bought a bunch of stuff and placed it everywhere." he chirps, looking around the room.
"Hate the changing table." you whisper.
The notion makes him laugh and he finds himself chuckling heartily at your words.
He hasn't laughed in so long that it feels euphoric.
Jeongguk turns his head to you, his blonde hair falling into his eyes. "I love you. I know you're probably not ready to come back to me yet but I'm always here waiting."
He can see your eyes becoming glassy and it's like a dagger to his heart. He presses his hand to the left side of his chest, taking a calming breath through his nose.
You don't move and you don't speak, you just stare down at the teddy bear that absorbs any falling tears that escape from your eyes.
"Are you hungry?" he inquires, folding his arms.
You sniffle gently, pressing the teddy bear to your growing stomach.
He doesn't want to force you to do or say anything. So he just sits beside you. Because he always will.
Silence takes over the room, coating Guk in white noise.
"I thought I was gonna die." you announce softly, playing with the hem of your dress.
He squeezes his eyes shut, his bottom lip starting to quiver at your admission.
"I didn't think I would ever see you again," you gasp, gripping the teddy bear tighter.
Jeongguk can feel his eyes burning with raw emotion. He can feel his body shutting down to it's baser instincts.
"I never gave up hope. I always knew you would come back to me. I just knew it." he breathes, looking over at you.
You give a small nod, wiping your cheeks almost childishly.
"Thank you for speaking to me. I miss your voice." he whispers, looking up at the ceiling.
There's silence again.
"I wasn't allowed to talk." you murmur.
His fists squeeze tightly at the admission and he can feel this anger swirling deep within his gut.
You haven't said anything, especially anything about when you were taken so the small sliver of information you've given him makes him see red in that quick minute.
"Did they…Did they hurt you, baby? Is that why you won't let me touch you?" he inquires softly.
You swallow thickly, standing up and putting the teddy bear back in the crib. "I'm hungry." you bleat.
Jeongguk realizes he's stepped too far for where you're comfortable, so he nods in agreement.
"Yeah… Of course. I brought home some sesame chicken. Come." he says quickly, trying to take your mind off of everything.
"What do you think?" you ask your husband, picking a small onesie off the store rack.
Jeongguk lowers his sunglasses, staring at the small article of clothing.
"It's yellow," he replies, garbled around a piece of hotteok.
"So? You don't like yellow?" you quip, looking down at the small bumble bees buzzing around the fabric.
"You're not pregnant yet," he states, sitting down on one of the benches near the shoes area.
"So? I can't buy a onesie if I'm not pregnant?" you gasp playfully, pressing the baby clothes to your chest.
He looks at you incredulously, fighting the smirk that threatens to spread over his lips. "What're you saying? You wanna have my baby?"
You roll your eyes, placing the baby clothing into the cart. "Isn't that every woman's dream?"
He blinks. "To have Jeon Jeongguk's baby? Yeah probably."
Your snort seems to carry through the thin air of the department store and Guk watches as you rifle through more clothes.
Wiping his mouth with his napkin, he takes you in. The way you sway to the music that creeps through the loudspeakers and the way your fingers deftly card through the small onesies.
God, his life is so perfect.
You're so perfect.
He's the epitome of luck and he surely believes he saved the king in his past life to be so blessed this time around.
"I love you," he breathes, pushing his sunglasses to the top of his head.
Your smile is blinding and you cross through the aisle, sitting down on his lap and hooking your arms over his neck.
"I love you, too." you coo, booping his nose with your index finger.
You ate in silence but at least you stayed in the same room as him.
Guk noticed how slowly you ate, like you were savoring it as if it was your last meal or something.
He appreciates that you spoke to him if only a few words. He'll cherish it forever if he's being honest.
But with the absence of sound, he found himself thinking of so many questions that won't leave his brain.
He knows you're not ready to answer them. You may never be ready.
But he has them prepared just in case.
Now, laying in bed, he hopes you'll come and sleep with him again like last night. He hopes it wasn't just a one off.
Jeongguk's head lays down on his pillow and he stares at your side of the bed.
He likes that your side is still a bit wrinkled from last night, it reminds him again that you were next to him.
When he hears your small footsteps, he closes his eyes. He pulls a soft throw pillow to his chest and hugs it as tightly as possible.
It feels like an eternity, waiting to see what you'll do but then finally you slip into the bed beside him.
He peeks one eye open and he's met face to face with you.
Wow.
You haven't been this close in ages.
"Hi baby," he whispers, closing his eye.
He can only chant to himself, 'Please don't leave. Please don't get scared.'
He can feel the bed dipping closer and closer to him and his eyebrows furrow curiously.
You're moving towards him?
He can feel the soft skin of your arm grazing against his and a shiver runs up his spine.
He whimpers gently, embarrassingly so, at your body so close to his own.
Guk can feel his eyes welling up with tears.
He takes deep, calming breaths to try and steady himself.
“D-Don’t move,” you beg of him and his body goes rigid at your request.
His eyes snap open and he watches you lean in slowly. He holds his breath, swallowing thickly when you press your forehead to his.
Fat, salty tears roll down his cheeks when your stomach presses against his arms.
You take a sharp breath between your teeth and it echoes through him like he’s a vast canyon.
Jeongguk can feel his hands sweating and he wants to hold you so badly it’s almost ripping him apart. But he keeps true to your request, locking his joints in place.
“Okay,” you breathe nervously, closing your eyes.
Your lips move ever so slowly towards his and he squeezes his eyes shut.
When he feels the soft petals of your lips against his, his whole body relaxes and he sobs weakly against you.
He doesn’t kiss back, he just allows you to do what you please -- to take what you need.
Your small hand wraps around his wrist and it dangles limp within your grasp.
“Baby,” Guk sobs softly as you pull away.
You don’t reply, you just lay his hand softly on your stomach and turn onto your back.
His sobs crack with the sheer amount of pain and relief in his throat. He can barely hold himself together and when a tiny patter makes itself known under his hand, he begins to wail.
You squeeze your eyes shut, covering your face with your hands and even though this is so painful -- it’s so healing.
“T-Thank you,” your husband cries, burying his face into the throw pillow he holds so tightly to himself.
“Love you,” you whimper, turning your head and staring at the closed windows.
He nods childishly, running his hand over your growing stomach.
“I love you too, baby. So much.” he gasps, feeling his heart begin to bleed again.
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Jeongguk doesn’t even give Namjoon a chance to sit down. He starts speaking the minute he steps foot into the therapy office. “She kissed me.”
Dr. Kim grabs the arms of his chair, slowly sitting down and raising an eyebrow. “Jeongguk, that’s amazing.”
Your husband doesn’t even sit down. He feels like he’s floating on air and he wants to keep it that way. He paces back and forth behind the long couch, pocketing his hands deep into his pants.
“She’s making so much progress so quickly! I’m so proud of her!” Guk whines, lolling his head back.
The therapist writes something down on his clipboard, looking up at your happy life partner. “Would you like to talk about how this happened?” he asks with a small smile.
Jeongguk is like an excited puppy, rounding the couch and throwing himself down on it immediately. “Well, I did exactly as you said. I stayed in the nursery with her for a while and I was talking and she talked back!”
Namjoon hums thoughtfully, scratching his nails to the fabric of his chair. “Did she say anything important? Anything that would help us delve deeper into what happened to her?”
The happiness starts to bleed out of your husband as he replays your words from last night through his head. “Y-Yeah. She said she thought she was going to die and she was so afraid that she would never see me again.” he bleats, looking down at his shoes.
Dr. Kim nods, setting aside the clipboard and folding his hands. “That must have hurt.”
Guk can’t help the frown that spreads over his features. “Yeah, it did hurt. I asked her if they hurt her and if that’s why she won’t let me touch her but she didn’t give me an answer.”
There’s silence again and Jeongguk finds it just as uncomfortable as all the other times before this.
“She’s definitely still learning to cope and she’s almost certainly healing little by little. Did you do anything else with her?” Dr. Kim inquires.
“We ate dinner together and… God, Doctor Kim, you had to see her. She was eating so slowly like it was her last meal or something.” your husband bleats.
Namjoon nods understandingly. “She might not have been given a lot of food when she was taken. It’s good that she eats slowly.”
Jeongguk didn’t even think of that… he feels like an asshole now.
“And what about last night? Did she sleep in bed with you?”
Oh, but that question brings back the excitement.
“Yes! She laid next to me in bed and-and she asked me not to move. So I didn’t but she leaned in really close and kissed me for the first time in… forever. She also took my hand and put it on her belly and I felt the baby move.”
Namjoon purses his lips impressed. “Well, that’s amazing. Maybe we should think about bringing Y/N to a session maybe next week. What do you think about that?”
Your husband nods almost instantaneously. “Anything that I can do for an exercise to help her?”
The therapist narrows his eyes thoughtfully. “Try to just talk to her some more? Next week, if she wants to come for a session then maybe we can work on her being okay with some simple touches.”
Jeongguk nods, a surge of hopefulness fleeting through him. "Okay!"
The flowers and plants in the backyard have been doused and seemingly flooded by the constant rain.
It's killing your tomatoes and you can only scoff as the rain continues to batter down outside.
"Do you see this?" you gawk to your husband, tapping your nail against the glass door to the back patio.
Your husband turns away from the television to look at the downpour outside.
"I know, it won't stop. How am I supposed to go survey the land for the new Seoul project if there's flooding everywhere?" he gripes, setting down his beer.
"Uh. Yeah. But my tomatoes!" you whine, turning to him with a pout.
He can only smile at your pouty face, standing up off the couch and opening his arms for you.
"I'll get you new plants if these are damaged. You know that, baby." he coos.
You hum in agreement, wrapping your arms around him and tugging him tightly to your body. "But then I'm gonna have to start all over again. Amena and Allegra have been growing for a year already."
Jeongguk can only snort, running his hand over your head in the most soothing of ways. "You named our tomato plants?" he quips.
"Yeah! They're like my children! I water them everyday, I talk to them so they become big and strong, I love them." you retort, running your hands underneath his white tank top.
"God, I need to get you pregnant already. I think you're going crazy." he jeers.
You snort, placing your temple to his chest and feeling his even, strong heartbeat that's become the song of your life.
"I hope I don't get my period this month." you breathe, closing your eyes.
He smiles, placing his chin atop your head as he stares at the torrential rain outside. "Me too, baby. Me too."
Jeongguk has become a master at the staring game.
He stares at you every second he possibly can in hopes that he can memorize every single thing about you.
But tonight, he just lets everything go.
He stares up at the ceiling instead of grabbing a pillow and pressing it to his chest. He watches the shadow of tree limbs dance across the moonlit ceiling and it shrouds him in ethereal comfort.
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees you enter the bedroom. While you do make yourself small, he can see your hands pressed up underneath your belly almost as if you need the support.
You're slow to climb into bed and he moves the throw pillow out of your way without a single word.
You've done really well today, you held eye contact with him many times and you even answered a few of his questions.
He has faith, now more than ever, that things can go back to the way they were.
"Baby?" he inquires softly.
You grab his hand and place it on your belly without a word.
Turning your head to him, he knows you're listening even if you don't speak.
"Will you come with me for a therapy session next week? Doctor Kim thinks it would be a good idea." your husband asks, tracing the outlines of the warped branches on the ceiling.
"Yes. I want to heal." you whisper and he gives a small smile at your words.
"I think you're doing better and better everyday." he announces, running his thumb over your distended belly.
You shiver at the movement but you don't push him off.
Leaning over to the nightstand, you grab the lotion that hasn't been used in months but Jeongguk can already smell the telltale scent that is purely yours.
You hold it out, looking at your husband with doe-like eyes and he can only smile.
He sits up with a giddiness that has his limbs trembling with excitement.
"If you don't like it, tell me, I'll stop right away." he promises, pushing the comforter off the both of you.
You take a sharp breath at his closeness, looking up at the ceiling to calm your erratic heart.
He lifts his long t-shirt that you wear for sleeping and he can feel his eyes burning at the sight of you.
Tying his hair up in a ponytail, he can see how taut your belly is -- how well his little girl is growing inside of you.
"Oh my babies," he coos gently.
He bends down, keeping his eyes on your face. His lips pepper small, open mouthed kisses to your taut skin and you wriggle beneath him.
You don't want to push him away but you haven't been loved like this in so long -- it makes you nervous.
You squeak gently when he kisses your belly button. His hands are so warm at the bottom of your bump and you shiver.
"Too much? Am I doing something wrong?" he asks softly, watching your hands bunch up the sheets.
"N-No," you gasp, squeezing your eyes shut.
There's a layer of sweat that begins to build on your scalp and you know it's because of the nerves.
"You're so beautiful, baby. Thank you for carrying our daughter." Guk breathes.
He pulls away from your stomach, you've done really well so far letting him kiss you like this without flinching away from him.
He squeezes some lotion into his hand, hoping to warm it just a bit before spreading it out onto your skin.
You wince at the still cool lotion and your limbs tense up when his hands glide effortlessly over your bump.
It's terrifying to be touched but knowing that it's Guk -- the only man you've only ever known or loved makes it just a bit easier.
"Wonderful, you're doing wonderfully babe." he promises, dutifully lotioning your belly.
You look so motherly below him, like an angel of fertility and he can't stop the tears that obscure his vision.
When he sniffles, your eyes snap to his and you can see the sheer amount of adoration he holds behind the windows to his soul.
"I love you," he breathes, running his hands over your sides.
Swallowing thickly, your hands, as shaky and terrified as they are, cup his face. Your thumbs swipe away his tears and he can only sob more at the feeling.
His slick with lotion hands, wrap around your wrists and delicately he presses kisses into your palms.
"You're home with me now. I'm never going to let anything terrible happen again. I'm going to make sure you're safe. I swear. I promise," he gasps out against your soft skin.
You can barely contain the sob within your own throat but you nod childishly at his words.
He covers his face with your hands, crying loudly into the cover you've given him.
"I love you, too." you promise quietly.
His eyes flutter shut and he can only give your hands more kisses until his tear ducts have no more salty tears to shed.
"You're so beautiful and so precious to me. I love you so much." he bleats, letting your hands go.
He continues his work in silence apart from sniffles and rubbing his red cheeks onto his bare shoulders. His fingers are gentle against your tummy and you know he needs this.
He needs this connection with your daughter because it's been so sorely missed. You had her and only her when you were taken away but Jeongguk had nothing.
He had nothing but heartache and waiting.
When he's finally finished, he sets the lotion back on the table before throwing himself down beside you.
"I miss holding you," he chirps, reaching for the throw pillow to hug.
You bury your terror deep down inside, moving closer and closer to him until your stomach is pressed up against his.
You both collectively shudder at the touch but when his arms wrap around you and you smell the familiar scent that is purely his… you find yourself relaxing even in the slightest.
"Thank you," he gasps, running his hands over your back.
His face buries into your hair and you can only give a meek nod.
"Oh fuck, this feels good." he whispers, closing his eyes.
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Your husband holds the door open for you and you shuffle slowly into the therapy office.
Jeongguk didn't know how difficult it would be for you to go outside but when he put his hand in yours, it helped in ways he could never imagine.
"Hi Y/N, it's so nice to meet you," Dr. Kim greets sweetly.
You give a small smile, sitting on the far end of the couch and tucking your legs beneath you as if to make yourself miniscule.
Namjoon looks you over before nodding to himself. He puts the clipboard down and watches your husband take a seat at the other end.
"Jeongguk has been telling me about all the amazing progress you've been making." Namjoon informs you.
Guk takes in the therapist then. He's soft and sweet with you but not so soft that he'd be talking to a child or someone young. He's had to do this quite a few times, he surmises.
"You don't have to talk if you don't want to. This is a safe space to just be," the therapist looks pointedly at Jeongguk, giving him a soft smile, "how has your progress been this week?"
Your husband smiles at the question. "She's doing so great. She let me put lotion on her belly and she slept in my arms all night long last night, didn't you baby?" he gushes, looking over at you.
You nod, looking over at him and giving him a small smile.
"Well that's great. It seems a lot of progress has been made. Y/N, did you know that when your husband first came here he didn't talk at all for the first month?" Namjoon inquires, pointing his pen at your significant other.
"No," you murmur curiously, staring at the handsome blonde man you adore.
Dr. Kim appreciates hearing your voice even if it's soft and short.
"Well, I didn't want to talk a lot because I felt foolish." Guk admits it easily.
You pick your head up fully then, giving your attention to him.
"Why is that, Jeongguk?" Namjoon inquires.
Your husband clears his throat awkwardly, looking down at his wedding ring and widening his eyes. "I felt like a failure… Cowardly, too. My wife was missing for months and I did my own search in finding her and came up with nothing. Then, the police -- they were all brazen assholes that even when they found Y/N they just threw her into my care without any extra help or reasoning behind anything… She was afraid and I-I felt guilty."
You swallow thickly, leaning across the couch and wrapping both of your arms around his right bicep.
He does what's always been normal to him, kissing the top of your head.
Namjoon watches as you shiver but don't pull away and he hums in agreement.
"Why did you feel guilty?" he prods, crossing his legs.
"Well… I'm her husband and I let such a terrible thing happen to her. I'm supposed to keep her safe and I-I fa-failed. Then when she came back to me, she was so frightened and I was at such a loss of what to do, it… it ripped me apart inside."
Namjoon can hear your small gasp even if your husband doesn't and he nods understandingly. "Y/N, do you have anything you want to say about that?"
You hug Guk tighter to your body and his eyes squeeze shut. "It's not your fault. It's no one's fault." you bleat sheepishly.
Dr. Kim nods astutely, leaning forward until his elbows are on his knees and his hands are intertwined beneath his chin. "Nobody in this room is at fault for what happened. There are terrible people in this world that sometimes make horrible choices and it affects others."
Then there's silence for a second and you watch Jeongguk spin his wedding band around on his fourth finger.
He only ever does this when he's deep in thought. On instinct you reach over and press your lips to his cheek and his hand comes up to cup the side of your face sweetly.
"Y/N, do you still feel the need to flinch away or scream?" Dr. Kim asks and you can feel your face paling in color.
Your eyebrows furrow and you hug Guk tighter to yourself.
He looks over at you and you can see the pleading in his eyes -- he needs you to talk about this, he needs to understand.
"Yes," you chirp, looking down at the knees of your leggings.
"Why?"
What a simple question.
Why?
Jeongguk coddles you to his body and he watches as your pupils shake back and forth. This is when you're deep in thought.
He closes his eyes and he knows that you probably won't answer, you aren't comfortable with this man.
"Because they used to hit me." you breathe, closing your eyes.
Guk takes a sharp breath between his teeth, turning his face away from you as his jaw clenched tightly.
"Did they know you were pregnant?" Dr. Kim asks, picking up his clipboard.
You shake your head and your husband can feel your hair whipping around at your answer.
"Did you tell them that?" Namjoon asks, pushing the bridge of his glasses up with his middle finger.
"Yes, then they stopped." you reply.
"Fucking pieces of sh-"
"Jeongguk. For Y/N's sake, we're not going to get angry here. We're going to just listen and understand." the therapist cuts him off quickly.
Squeezing his fist tightly, he brings it to his forehead before nodding weakly.
He doesn't want to scare away your progress but this ball of hatred within him grows tense and feels more like fire with every passing second.
"What did they want with you? Why were you taken? Do you know?"
Your teeth nibble at the inside of your cheek and you can feel the sensitive flesh becoming raw and cut up with every worrying clench.
"It's okay if you want to wait to spea-"
"I don't." you squeak quickly.
Namjoon nods, leaning back in his chair and extending a hand for you to speak when you wish.
"They were doing drug stuff." you blurt, finding it kind of relieving to speak about it.
"Oh? And did they make you do drugs?" Dr. Kim asks.
Jeongguk scoffs so loudly that it makes you cower but he's quick to apologize profusely and kiss the top of your head repeatedly. "Baby, no. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, baby girl."
"Jeongguk." Namjoon chastises softly and your husband holds up his hands apologetically.
"They didn't make me do drug stuff. I bagged up drugs… I think it was cocaine or something but I'm not sure… I don't do drugs." you announce, squeezing your husband's arm sweetly.
The therapist watches how your legs tug out from underneath you and slowly plant onto the carpeted floor. He doesn't speak, he waits for you to.
"My ankle was chained to some type of radiator. The metal got warm at night so… that's how I knew. I wasn't allowed to speak and they conditioned me to it. So I didn't or… couldn't tell them I was pregnant. But one of them, Taehyung, noticed after a few months. I can remember them fighting about it or yelling about it for a while."
Jeongguk watches how you stare off into space and he wants to pull you away from those memories and shield you so badly but you need this. You need to speak about it to get over it.
"So one day when everyone was out to lunch, Taehyung asked me if I was pregnant and I said yes. I don't think he liked keeping me there in that state and he kept rambling on about two mouths would be worse than just one. So he told me he was going to kill me and put an end to my misery. And I thought that would be best."
Guk squeezes his eyes shut, biting down on his lip to the point that it might draw blood but then you begin to speak again.
"I was waiting and waiting to die but it never came and then at night, a bag was put over my head and I was knocked out. Then I woke up on the Expressway six months after I was taken." you state, looking down at your husband's wedding band.
Jeongguk shudders and he takes a deep, calming breath through his nose.
"Thank you for telling us, Y/N. I know this certainly can't be easy to relive. But now that it's out in the open, we can work on rebuilding your relationship with Jeongguk. How does that sound?"
You nod immediately, looking up at the blond haired man you adore.
Namjoon gives a small smile, putting his clipboard aside.
"I think the next exercise you should do as a couple is to continue to heal together. Whether that be physical or talking. It's important to get back to the patterns you had before this."
"Physical?" Jeongguk echoes, tilting his head.
The therapist takes off his glasses, cleaning them with the hem of his sweater vest. "Sexual intercourse is healing, Jeongguk."
Your husband blushes a furious pink that radiates to the tips of his ears.
"That doesn't mean you have to rush home and try it. You should build up to it. Allow things to become comfortable again between the both of you. You can only start to heal when you allow yourselves."
That resonates deep within you and you find yourself yearning for comfort after so long.
You want to be back to your full self, even if it would take a day or a year to get there.
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"That was great babe, you did amazing. I'm really proud of you," Jeongguk gushes when you both finally get home.
The small smile you give him has his heart melting with love and he holds back the biggest urge to throw his arm over your shoulders.
You know that this must be torment for your husband and the guilt within you is constantly growing.
When you walk into the kitchen, it piques Guk's curiosity. He watches as you rifle through the cabinets and fridge with nosy eyes.
His elbows lean down on the kitchen island and his hands come up below his chin to investigate.
"Whatcha doin', baby?" he chirps, watching you grab a carton of eggs.
"Cooking." you reply softly, setting ingredients down on the counter.
"Wait, really?!" he gasps, standing up straight and widening his eyes.
"Take out food is bad for you," you whisper, tying your hair up.
"No, but… baby, you must be tired. You don't have to cook. I can cook." he says quickly, rounding the island to be beside you.
He towers over you and the sweet smell of his cologne puts you at ease even if he's just a touch too close.
"You don't know how to cook," you remind him, flipping open the rice cooker.
He scoffs, widening his eyes playfully. "Yes I do! Why would you offend me like that?"
You giggle gently, a simple reflex and the both of you freeze.
Wow, you haven't laughed in… ages. It feels so good to laugh.
Guk swallows thickly, hoping that this isn't the straw that breaks the camel's back.
Your laugh is so pretty, prettier than most things in this universe and his stomach does flips at the simple noise.
Your cheeks even hurt from the smile you produced, those muscles haven't been used in forever.
Jeongguk waits patiently to see if you'll be the one to speak up and he's grateful when you do.
"I'm sure that you remember the fried chicken," you offer, grabbing the bag of rice from the bottom cabinet.
"Okay!" he groans, "how was I supposed to know the oil was too hot? In what universe do things immediately char when put into hot oil?"
"This one," you quip softly, smiling to yourself as you add water to the cooker.
His arms wrap around your belly, caging you into his grip and you're so distracted with the fun memories that you feel no discomfort at all.
This is natural.
This is good.
Feels damn good, too.
"I've made other food that's been tasty." he counters, kissing over the back of your neck with soft, sweet lips.
You shiver at the feeling, letting your eyes flutter closed.
It's so natural to tease your handsome husband and on instinct you do so with a playful tone.
"The galbi, the egg fried rice, the hamburgers, the pizza, the sweet and sou-"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah alright." he murmurs, chuckling into your ear.
You hum sweetly, shutting off the water and letting your body get comfortable with the familiar arms around you.
Of course this isn't easy, it isn't easy to try and force the terror that is constantly awake inside of you away. But because it's Guk, your husband who you love more than anything, it makes it just a little bit easier.
"What're you making for dinner anyway?" he inquires, kissing the crown of your head repeatedly.
With each kiss, his pectoral muscles ripple against you and you've forgotten what it's like to appreciate your god of a man. Before you were taken, you worshipped his body like he was a god. And you think that's been sorely missing for him as well.
"Egg fried rice." you reply, turning around to him.
He takes a sharp breath between his teeth at the sight of you so close to him. Taking a step back, he doesn't want to make you uncomfortable but your hands reach up to his hips and still him.
"Just stay," you whisper, watching his eyes become glassy.
Cupping his cheeks with your hands, you smile up at him gently.
His eyes flutter shut and he's in such incredible peace.
"Kiss me, please." you ask of your husband.
His eyes spring open and he hums with uncertainty.
"Are you sure, baby? I don't want to rush our progress. I don't want to scare you." he coos, running his hands over your belly.
"Kiss me." you repeat.
When he bends down, your breath hitches and your nervousness grows with each second. His large body seems to drape over you like a shadow and your heart begins to hammer with fear.
You want to scream out in this second, cower away from him and everything the world has to offer.
But then his lips press to yours. He's soft and gentle, letting the petals of his lips caress yours with such love and adoration. That fear -- that anxiousness is gone as quickly as it came.
The smell of his cologne breeches your senses while you kiss, it echoes and spreads through your limbs like a forest fire.
Jeongguk cups your cheeks with his hands, wiping away tears that you haven't even noticed have breached past your eyelids.
"Oh my baby," he gasps, pulling away and pressing his forehead to yours.
"Thank you," you whimper, hugging him as tightly as you can to your body with the obstacle of his growing daughter in the way.
There's something about you on early school day mornings. Maybe you just look better in the chilly air or maybe your presence just warms Jeongguk to the point of comfort.
"Morning loser!" he jeers, fumbling with his tie.
"Oh, I'm the loser, am I?" you quip, leaning back against the large cherry blossom tree beyond the gates to your high school.
"You're our loser," Jimin teases, walking past the both of you with his textbooks pressed tightly to his chest.
Flipping your other friend the middle finger, you blow a bubble in your gum. You watch as Jeongguk continues to fumble with his tie, earning creases and wrinkles in the fabric.
"Oh lord, it's like watching a 'how to fail at life' video." you roll your eyes, grabbing the lapels of his school uniform jacket and shoving him up against the tree.
He sneers at you, widening his pretty mocha eyes and you can only snort in response.
"My dad didn't teach me how to do this before he went away for his job." he gripes, gripping the bottom ends of the tie in his fists and furrowing his eyebrows.
You take pity on him then, watching his annoyance truly bubble to the surface.
"Here," you breathe, smacking his hands away from the tie playfully.
You start to tie his tie properly, blowing a large bubble that he pops easily with the tip of his finger.
"First day of the new school year, this should be fun." he says, pushing some hair back behind your ear.
You shiver at his touch, lowering your head as your skin begins to heat up with embarrassment.
"Oh God, just kiss her already. Gross!" Jimin calls you both.
Your eyes snap to one another and Guk lets out a playful chuckle. "She doesn't know what's good for her!" he teases, winking down at you.
You grumble your protestations quietly, tying the tie so tightly that he coughs loudly.
"God," he groans, moving the neck until he's comfortable.
"I do know what's good for me!" you bite back, slinging your backpack over your shoulder.
"Oh yeah?" Guk quips, walking after you, "Then kiss me."
His large eyes are devious and his eyebrow juts up with playful intentions.
"You can't do it, can you? You can't just-"
You press your lips to his roughly, not knowing how to kiss since this is your first time. His large hand cups the back of your head immediately, sighing gently against your lips. It's messy and there's a lot of teeth but your heart thrums knowing Guk is your first.
When you pull away, you want to flee almost immediately but Jeongguk doesn't give you the time. His arm wraps around your shoulders and his smile is so large and giddy that it could rival the sun with its brightness.
"So you like me, huh?" he quips, running his thumb over your red, raw lips.
"Shut up!" you hiss, pulling his tie towards school.
Jeongguk groans loudly when he climbs into bed. He turned the heat up all the way but there's still a chill in the air that makes him tug the comforter over his bare chest quickly.
He can only smirk when you step into the doorway in only his t-shirt.
"You're getting so big that your belly enters a room first, y'know," he quips.
You snort softly, a noise that used to be common but it's the first one in months.
"Dinner was delicious, I missed your cooking so much." your husband breathes, hooking both of his hands behind his head.
"You didn't cook at all?" you inquire gently, climbing into bed beside him.
He turns his head lazily to you, raising an eyebrow. "You think I could cook for myself when I was so worried? I can't cook to begin with."
"Oh, so you admit it then." you sigh, placing a throw pillow beneath your bump and turning to him.
He laughs, crinkling the corners of his eyes cutely.
The moonlight casts a bluish glow over his face and arms and you can't help but begin to lose yourself in his handsome features.
His breath starts to catch in his throat when he looks at you, your eyes are speaking thousands of words of ardor and he can't help the tug of his heart at the sight.
"Doctor Kim said we have to have sex," you bleat.
"We don't have to do anything, baby. If you aren't comfortable, then we aren't doing it." Guk deadpans, running his hand over your belly.
When the light hits his irises just right, the beautiful mocha color seems to burnish holes into your skin.
His hand cups your cheek and your eyes squeeze shut at the soft warmth.
You don't know what you're ready for in all honesty.
You don't know what you need if it isn't Jeongguk.
And you want to try at least something to feel closer to him.
"I-I want to try something," you whisper uneasily.
Your husband leans up on his elbow, looking at you with curiosity written all over his handsome face.
He looks you over, pushing the comforter off of his ever heating body and your eyes fall straight to his torso. His abs are thick and noticeable, the muscles flex and ripple with each deep breath he takes and you find yourself heating up at the sight.
The black ink of his tattoos litters his body in all the right spots and all you can think about is how much you've missed him.
"What do you want to try, baby girl?" he coos, running his hand through his long blonde hair.
"Well if you stay still… maybe I can…" you can't even find the words, your throat tightens up and you feel completely lost at what to do.
Before you were taken it was so easy to fall into bed with your husband and now it's like you're grasping for straws.
Jeongguk hitches up the leg of his briefs, raising an eyebrow. "If you're really serious about it then take what you need."
"That's selfish," you mutter, looking down as his thick thigh muscles twitch suggestively.
"Hey, hey, hey," he coos, tilting your face up with his index finger, "you need to feel comfortable again. You have my patience, my love, my heart, anything and everything. You take everything you want and need from me without guilt. I'm your husband, there's no way I could be selfish with you."
He's always been this way with you, ever since middle school. Jeongguk has always given you more than you give him and that selfless nature of his always has your heart bleeding in ways you may never understand.
You lean in slowly, your breath hitching at the closeness of him and his eyes flutter shut in anticipation.
"Take everything," he reminds you, running his fingertips over your stomach softly.
Guk can't help the mewl that escapes his throat when your lips press to his. He lets you take the lead, keeping his hands to himself politely.
Your kisses are slow and nervous but Jeongguk appreciates them all the same.
"Don't be nervous, baby. I'm right here. You're safe." he promises, pulling away for air.
You don't want this pressing anxiousness, you just want to be normal again. That's all you want.
Your hand shakes when you wrap your hand around his wrist.
"Mmm, that's it. Guide me, babe. Show me where you want me." your husband breathes out, kissing over your jaw with gentle pecks.
"Uh…" you chirp, settling his hand between your thighs.
He hums sensually, letting the heat from his digits warm your soft, cool skin. "So pretty," he purrs.
You gasp loudly when he cups your sex and his eyes are immediately on yours.
"Just relax, baby girl. If you don't like it or you aren't comfortable just tell me. I'll stop right away, okay?" he promises, kissing your lips ever so gently.
You give a meek nod, whimpering when his digits drift over the seat of your panties.
"Baby girl likes it. You're wet already." he breathes, inching his body closer to you.
He can feel the stickiness of your panties and his hips rut into the air at the feeling.
Jeongguk has been so depraved of everything besides the overwhelming feelings of guilt and loneliness he feels deep down inside.
He parts your folds through the sodden fabric, immediately connecting the pad of his thumb to your swollen clit.
"How's that, baby? You like that?" he gasps, watching you writhe under his sweet touch.
You mewl softly, squeezing your eyes shut and nodding.
There's this nervous pit within you that seems to be diminishing by the second. Every deep breath your husband takes and every word of praise that drips from his lips lulls you deeper into his comfort.
"Can I take your panties off?" he inquires sweetly, hooking his fingers into the sides.
Your hips lift within a word and he peels your underwear away at a deathly slow pace.
Your arousal is messy and stringy, breaking away from the soaked fabric to cling to your pussy lips and thighs.
Jeongguk groans wantonly, tossing the fabric away in a fury.
You've both only ever known each other's bodies. You lost your virginities together, you've both only loved each other so much that every part of your bodies is solely for the other.
Even if Guk hasn't had you in months, it's a muscle memory remembering how you like to be pleased.
"You're soaking wet, baby." he gasps, running his fingers over your puffy lower lips.
"P-Please," you whimper childishly, spreading your legs.
The wanton groan that rips from your husband is animalistic and needy at best but it pushes all your fears away in that moment.
"What're you begging for, hmm?" he coos, kissing over your neck.
"I don't know," you laugh, turning your head to him.
His smile is heartbreakingly gorgeous and he kisses you with the intensity to rival a thousand men. If this was any other time you would have pulled away but the arousal that's searingly hot and coursing through you only wants more.
You moan into the kiss, earning a gentle whine from the man you love.
"Is this what you want?" he quips, thrusting two fingers deep inside you.
Your stunted moan is loud and your chest heaves at the fullness you feel.
It's always amazing how he fills you up without even trying.
"Fuck, your pretty cunt is so tight." he groans, curling his fingers expertly to the sensitive bundle of nerves within you.
"G-Gukkie!" you whimper, placing your hand on your growing stomach.
"Feels good, baby? You like it?" he asks sweetly, placing his free hand atop yours on your belly.
You give a meek nod, mouth dropping open when he starts to pump his fingers in and out of you at a snail's pace.
"You're so beautiful," Guk breathes, pressing his thumb back to your swollen clit.
He rubs loving, smooth circles to the nub, praising you when your moans reach a loud pitch.
"Jeongguk!"
"That's not what you call me in bed, baby. You know better. Come on," your husband goads, lifting his long t-shirt to look at your stomach.
"Daddy," you preen softly and he smirks at your sweet tone.
"Good girl, there it is."
His fingers fuck into you faster and your hands can't stop raking over the taut muscles of his stomach.
Jeongguk feels like he doesn't have a second to waste. He wants to please you in every way and show you how much you've been sorely missed.
"What am I going to do with you? You're too gorgeous to be in my bed." he groans, pressing his lips to the swell of your stomach.
Your hips wriggle for more and he pulls out altogether. Adjusting the painfully hard erection beneath his boxers, he lays down on the bed.
"Come take everything from me, baby," he announces, opening his arms.
You feel so empty, so needy and bothered that you immediately heed his command.
Whimpering softly, your legs part over his thick thigh and he gives a warm smile up at you.
"You're so beautiful," he avows, running his hands over your sides.
His thigh is smooth and rigid beneath you. You emit a whimper throughout the quiet room as you begin to rut yourself against his muscles.
"God, you're so wet. My thigh is soaked. Fuck." Guk curses, moving your hips faster.
Looking down into his eyes, they're drunk with adoration and lust.
You're too grateful to feel so peaceful and calm in this moment. You can think of nothing else besides the man beneath you.
"Daddy, I-"
He hums in agreement, tucking his bottom lip tightly between his teeth.
He can only look at your body with wonder. You're so perfect and you always have been. You've always been a dream to him and he's so happy you can be back here in his arms.
Pushing the shirt up higher, his hands graze over your large stomach and he whines softly.
"You look so amazing carrying our daughter." he praises.
His thigh muscles flex tightly for you and your hands scramble to press against his chest at the feeling.
The pressure is so intense and so amazing, you can only babble meaningless words and sounds.
Your head lolls back and your nails scratch against his golden honey skin when the bubble inside you begins to expand.
It's been so long since you've felt this kind of relief that it's approaching at a rapid pace.
"Does it feel good, baby girl? You wanna cum for me?" your husband asks, drifting his hands over your bump.
"Yes," you squeak, allowing him to intertwine your hands together.
"Yes what?" he quips, looking down at his soaked thigh.
"Yes, daddy." you breathe, letting your head loll back.
"Good girl, I bet you're real close, hmm? Just let go, baby. Take what you need."
His hands on your skin are so gentle and sweet that it's easy to fall over the edge with someone to catch you so earnestly.
"I can feel your clit throbbing, shit," your husband whines, running his fingers through his hair.
There's a moment when everything goes still. It's just you, your husband and your deep seated pleasure. You can only begin to relish in it when time starts up again.
"Daddy! Cumming!" you gasp, squeezing your eyes shut.
"Look at me when you cum, I want to see your pretty face."
Your eyes snap open on his command and suddenly that bubble inside you bursts.
The pleasure is so intense and so mind shattering that you can only make small gasps and whines as it courses through you.
Your hips rock slowly and your brain short circuits at the explosive feeling.
"Gukkie!" you cry out softly and when your body begins to rack gently, he sits up in a flash to coddle you.
"You're okay, I'm right here. You're safe, baby." he avows, running his hand over the back of your head.
Your chest feels tight and you hug him so closely that there isn't any room for anything else.
"Are you okay? Do you want me to get you water?" he inquires sweetly, kissing your temple.
"Don't leave me." you beg, laying your head down on his shoulder.
"I would never dream of it, baby." he whispers, rocking you slowly in his arms.
Your eyes flutter shut and the small pattern of irregular shapes that your husband draws on your skin calms your heart right away.
"Felt good, huh?" he chuckles, combing his fingers through your hair.
Your nod is childish and sweet, earning a bright smile from the man before you. "I love you, y'know?"
"I love you, too." you whisper, laying down beside him as he falls back.
He looks down at his soaked thigh with a wry smile. "I still get you flooding like a river."
"You're still cocky," you sigh, burying your face into his shoulder.
He laughs loudly, wrinkling his nose. Turning to you, his thumb drifts over the apple of your cheek and he can find no greater peace than this.
"Are you comfortable? Do you need anything?" he inquires.
You shake your head softly, getting comfortable beside him. "Just you."
Wow.
Those words shoot straight to his heart and he feels like he's falling in love all over again.
"Are you in pain, should I help you?" you murmur tiredly.
Clicking his teeth, he kisses your forehead. "I'm never in pain when I'm with you. You should know that by now."
"I didn't feel scared at all. It was really nice," you bleat, feeling your head get heavier on his body.
"I'll show you that you don't have to be nervous or scared anymore. I promise," he whispers, smirking when your lips part in your unconscious state.
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You're still quiet when you speak but at least you're speaking.
Guk is over the moon with how close you let him get. He can hug you and kiss you now without feeling your body tense up so tightly.
On one hand he feels guiltier, if he would have just talked to Dr. Kim from the start, maybe your healing process would have begun months before this. On the other hand, just seeing you heal is worth its weight in gold.
"So… progress? Do we want to touch on that?" Namjoon inquires, giving a smile when you sit beside your husband and not at the end of the couch.
"We got closer this week than we ever have yet." Jeongguk tells him, letting his arm go lax so you can wrap your hands around his bicep.
Namjoon's eyes widen and he nods pleasantly. "I see. How was that for you, Y/N?"
You hum softly, watching as your husband spins his wedding band. "It felt good to just relax and not be scared."
"Ah, I see. So it pushed away everything you were nervous about?"
You nod pleasantly, looking up at Jeongguk who gives you a wink in reply.
"I was really nervous at first and my heart felt like it was going to explode but then after a while it kind of melted away," you squeak, feeling your neck and ears heat up out of embarrassment.
"That's really good. It's healthy. Not many people c-"
"But I felt guilty," you chirp, cutting off the therapist.
Dr. Kim narrows his eyes at you curiously and so does your husband.
Namjoon's hands politely fold and he tilts his head when you try to make yourself smaller.
"Why, baby?" your husband pouts, running his hand over the back of your head.
"Well I didn't do anything for you." you bleat, looking down at the sunflowers that make up the bottom of your dress.
Guk frowns deeply, drifting his thumb over the base of your neck. "Baby, you know I don't care about that."
Namjoon takes off his glasses, cleaning them with the hem of his shirt as he takes in your interaction. "So, Y/N, you felt guilty that you couldn't please your husband like he pleased you? Is that right?"
Your nod is miniscule but he does catch it when he puts his glasses back on.
"I see. Well that's quite good in a way, isn't it? It means that you love your husband so much that when you can't give back everything he gives to you it makes you feel as if you've been selfish."
"I've always felt that way. Jeongguk always gives me everything and I feel like I never do nearly enough for him in return." you gasp, accepting your husband's hand when he intertwines your fingers together.
"Babe," he murmurs, brushing a few stray hairs back behind your ear.
"It's natural to feel that way. It just goes to show how much you love him." Namjoon announces, crossing his legs.
Guk pushes the side of your head until you're leaning your temple against his shoulder. His lips glide over the crown of your head and you squeeze his hand tighter within your own.
"I'm going to give you an exercise this week, Y/N." Namjoon says, putting his clipboard aside.
You perk up at his voice, tilting your head curiously.
"Please Jeongguk how you think he should be pleased." the therapist says, folding his arms.
"I'm sorry," you whine to your newlywed husband.
He looks up from the end of the bed, running his soft hands over your calves.
"Don't be sorry, you can't help it." he coos sweetly, kissing over your exposed skin.
"I want to go out and play," you whine, looking out the bay windows of your hotel suite.
The sun is high in the sky and the palm trees sway in what you can only assume is a sweet, cool breeze.
Only on your honeymoon would you get jet lagged and sick.
Guk chuckles, crawling up the bed to lay beside you. "We have so much more time to enjoy Bali, it's okay. You just need to focus on getting better right now."
"But it looks so cool outside," you whine, turning to him with a pout.
He taps his index finger to the tip of your nose cutely. "Just relax, baby. You're not going anywhere until you feel better."
Taking the cold towel off your forehead, he dips it back into the warm water.
"You don't have to stay with me, you can go out and have fun," you suggest, closing your eyes.
"I have all the fun I need in this room. I have you." he whispers, smothering your cheek with kisses.
He lays the warm rag back onto your forehead and he can't help the love that blooms throughout his body when he looks down at you.
Sure, your face is a bit pale and peaky and yeah, your body is covered in a film of cold sweat but God, you still look like everything beautiful and perfect in this world.
"You're so sweet. I don't know how I ended up with someone as perfect as you," you murmur, letting the fresh sea air blow through the window over your body.
His smile is wide and loving, a billion sweet thoughts coursing through his head at all times.
"I think you're perfect. I've loved you since the moment I saw you." he breathes.
"Stop one up-ing me. It's not good for my mental health," you jeer, letting a small smirk grace your features.
Your husband chuckles, kissing the top of your head repeatedly. "No one could ever love you as much as I do."
"Now that I believe," you sigh happily, feeling your husband lay down in bed beside you.
"Just worry about getting better and then we can go play with dolphins."
"Dolphins. Okay, just dream of dolphins." you breathe blearily, accepting the tired state the medicine is putting you in.
Jeongguk gives a lopsided smirk, watching your head tilt towards him.
"Beautiful as always," he whispers, pressing his lips to yours.
Your husband was surprised to hear that you felt guilty in all honesty.
You've never voiced it in that way before.
"Do you think that you don't do enough for me?" he inquires curiously, setting down his chopsticks.
You look up from your food and suddenly the guilt is tripling and swirling around in your gut. "Yeah, sometimes." you whisper.
"Why?" he asks, picking up his plate and bringing it to the sink.
Staring up at the paintings above the dining room table, your head tilts. "Well, you've always been this big love bug and I'm not always like that. You're really selfless and I'm not."
He clicks his teeth softly, turning to you and crossing his arms. "I love you the way you are. I love everything about you… I always have."
"That's what I mean. That selflessness." you breathe, turning to him and giving him a small smile.
He chuckles sweetly, a sound that you adore more than anything in the universe.
When you stand, he quips an eyebrow.
Being kidnapped was terrifying, coming back was just as scary but not being able to show your husband how much he's adored and loved… well that's just as frightening.
Even though you still have this constant looming of nervousness that enraptures your being, it doesn't supercede the need to show love to your husband which you're grateful for.
"What is it?" your husband coos when you grip his wrist.
You don't reply, pulling him towards your bedroom silently.
"Baby?" he inquires, allowing you to take him to your room.
Closing the door behind you, you want to flee but you stand your ground, pushing against his chest until he's seated on the foot of the bed.
He stares up at you curiously, putting his hands behind him to balance himself.
"I love you," you avow.
"I love you too. Baby, what is it? Are you alright?" he asks curiously, tilting his head.
Your knees touch down on the soft carpet underfoot and his eyes widen.
"Wait, babe. It's okay. You don't have to-"
"I want to," you promise, cutting him off.
He takes in your doe-like gaze and he hums unsurely to himself.
"Come kneel on the bed if anything, I don't want your knees to get hurt." he breathes, pushing himself back to give you room.
See. He's too sweet and gentle to be unappreciated.
You take his advice, climbing onto the bed between his parted thighs.
Licking his lips slowly, his eyes watch you like a hawk.
"Y/N, we don't have to do this right n-" he groans softly, cutting off his words when you graze your hand along his soft cock.
His eyes squeeze shut and you're almost too quick at unbuttoning his jeans.
He lifts his hips, his pretty lips parting for air and his chest seems to tighten.
You're sure he's been aching since the other night when you fell asleep on him and the answer becomes known right away when you pull down his briefs.
He's already rock hard, the long, thick length seems to twitch and pulse for relief. The bulbous head is a maddening red and he seems so sensitive that even the soft graze against his heavy balls has him whining.
"G-God," he hisses, laying back.
You lick your lips, watching as precum begins to bead at the tip.
You've only ever had this man beneath you and God, you're lucky to have him.
"Take your shirt off," he begs, tugging at the hem.
You do as told, suddenly too concerned with pleasing him than to feel any sort of nervousness.
"Fuck, your tits are huge." he groans, palming your breasts softly.
Taking a sharp breath between your teeth, you can only whimper at his touch.
"Hurts?" he asks sweetly, pulling away.
"No, no. More. Feels good. They ache." you coo.
He tugs down the cups, widening his eyes at how different they look than what he's always been used to.
"Damn," he mumbles, sitting up.
"This is about you," you whine, palming his cock.
He moans so loudly that it ricochets through you and you can already feel your panties dampening.
Jeongguk is quick to tug off his shirt, giving you full view and access to his God-like body.
"Your nipples are so puffy." he bleats, running his thumbs over them.
"Jeongguk," you croon softly, trying to admonish him but it isn't coming out as such.
When your nipples begin to harden, small beads of milk start to gather at the tips and his eyes shoot up to yours.
"I want to taste," he growls, laying you down.
He isn't sure if it's because you look so motherly and so angelic or if it's something that he didn't even know would turn him on but the sight of your breasts leaking is sending him into an animalistic fury.
"I'm supposed to be making you feel good!" you gasp, feeling his lips drift over your clavicle.
"You always make me feel good," he murmurs, scoffing loudly when you begin to jerk his cock in hand.
His lips are warm and sweet against the swell of your breasts. You can feel the pufts of hot air he expels with each groan and scoff as he snaps his hips to your hand.
The tip of his tongue peeks out between the sweet pink petals of his lips and he looks up at you for confirmation.
Your smile is enough for him to continue and his hand presses to the distended side of your stomach as he makes his dissent.
Flicking the tip of your nipple with his tongue, your milk is sweet and enrapturing against his taste buds and he preens at the taste.
"Fuck, it's so sweet." he gasps, wrapping his lips around your stiff peaked bud.
You can only whine sweetly, carding your fingers through his hair when he suckles harder.
"D-Daddy! Oh!" you cry out, running your thumb around the head of his cock.
His precum is thick and sticky as you spread it around the head and he shivers against you.
You feel relief and intoxication when he continues to suckle. "Feels so good, the other one. Please."
He complies immediately, moving to your other breast and suckling.
"Oh fuck, baby. I want your mouth on me," he begs, letting your nipple go with a noisy pop.
It's easy to get back into this routine, shoving him down to have full access to his body.
Your tongue swirls around the bulbous head of his cock, picking up the thick, sticky precum he beads endlessly.
"Holy s-shit," he groans, moving your hair out of your face.
Gathering your hair into one fist, he runs his free hand along your cheek.
With every dip of your head, a string of curses greets your ears and you know how much he's enjoying himself.
"God! You've always been so good with your mouth. Fuck!" he curses, letting his head thump back to the pillow beneath him.
His cock begins to throb as you swallow around him and the hiss of pleasure he seethes through his teeth has your loins unfurling with sickly sweet wanting.
"W-Watch your stomach." he begs when you swallow him to the hilt.
Your nose brushes against his bare public bone and your husband is quick to wipe the tears off of your cheeks.
"My cock is too big for your pretty throat, huh? You're making a mess," he coos, drifting his thumb over your precum and spit covered chin.
You don't care how messy you look, you just want him to feel good because he deserves it. He deserves everything.
You begin to fuck his cock into your mouth faster and Jeongguk can only hiss and groan semblances of words.
"You- Ooh, fuck! You're so go-good at this. Shit!" he cries out, lifting his hips off the bed.
Whimpering gently as his cock begins to throb in your throat, you grip onto his thick thighs.
"You're gonna make me cum, Christ!" he moans, tugging on your hair.
With each dip of your head, his precum squirts onto the flat of your tongue and you're so lost in the world of pleasing your husband that you can't think of anything else.
"Off, get off. I want to cum on your belly." he gasps, pulling your hair.
With a noisy pop and a soaked chin, you let his cock fall free from your mouth.
You lay down at his command, running your fingers over his abs as he jerks his cock in hand.
"You look so fucking pretty with my baby inside you, I'm-I'm gonna cum all over this belly," he whines, his blonde hair falling into his eyes.
Tucking his bottom lip between his teeth, he gives a long groan. "Baby!"
Your thighs rub together for any and all friction you can find, staring up at the handsome man. His eyebrows knit and his mouth drops open into a silent scream.
Palming your leaking breast, he curses once more before ropes of his cum land on your distended stomach. "Fuck!"
He sits back on his heels, looking you over with lust drunk eyes and the goofy grin he gives you makes your heart hammer inside your chest.
"Damn," he breathes heavily, putting his hands on his hips, "you look so good covered in my cum."
You can't help but give a sweet giggle, letting your head loll back to the mattress.
Jeongguk takes in the silence and for the first time in a long time, he doesn't find it eerie.
"Are you aching?" he whispers, spreading your thighs.
You hum nonchalantly and when he looks down at your swollen cunt, he narrows his eyes at you. "Don't try to hide your need from me. I see your clit throbbing."
"This was about you," you offer, sitting up on your elbows.
"Don't care." he chides softly, wiping your stomach with his briefs.
His arms wrap around your thighs and your breath hitches in your throat when his head bows down.
The gentle kiss he gives to your swollen bundle of nerves has your hips lifting off the bed.
"You deserve to be pleased more than anyone in this universe," he coos, licking a flat strip up your sex.
"Guk!" you gasp, fisting your hands into his hair.
"Play nice," he jeers, attaching his perfect lips to your clit.
He suckles harshly, flicking his tongue back and forth until your chest has no more air to expel.
"You're so sensitive when you're pregnant," he breathes, entering two fingers into you slowly.
You whine his name, arching your back at the fullness you feel. His fingers curl perfectly inside of you and you can already feel your head swimming with pleasure.
You didn't register just how needy you were until this moment. You were too busy trying to please the man you adore.
"Daddy!" you whimper, letting go of his hair to fist the sheets in your hands.
He hums softly in agreement, slowly adding a third finger.
It's pent up wanting that floods through you at a blinding pace and your mind goes blank in an instant.
Jeongguk fucks his fingers into you faster, keeping his eyes plastered on your stomach which seems to get tighter and tighter by the second.
It's never taken him a long time to get you to your peak and it was and is something he's still constantly proud of.
"Oh my God!" you whine, throwing your head back.
When he hears your sobs of pleasure, he lifts the hood of your clit, taking his time to caress the throbbing bud with the tip of his tongue.
"I'm gonna cum. Daddy, pl-please let me." you beg, squeezing your eyes shut.
He hums in agreement, suckling harder until your legs are twitching and freezing in place.
The pads of his fingers flick against the velvet walls inside of you and suddenly your orgasm is blinding.
Your body racks with cries and your eyes well up with pleasured tears.
"You squirted for me, baby girl." Guk coos, pulling out of you and licking his fingers.
"Oh fuck," you gasp, putting your hand over your heart.
Your husband chuckles, inching up the bed until he's face to face with your stomach.
"Hi princess," he whispers to your daughter, running his hand over the soft, smooth skin.
It takes you a while to gather yourself after that explosive orgasm but hearing Jeongguk speak so sweetly to your daughter brings you back down to Earth.
"I really missed you, y'know," he avows, kissing your belly, "Daddy is gonna work really hard to make sure you and mommy are super safe and happy. Okay? Does that sound good?"
There's a tiny kick beneath his hand that has him chuckling in an instant. "Did you miss me too? We're all gonna heal together as a family. I'm going to spend the rest of my life making up for those months, alright?"
When he looks over at you and his hair falls into his large mocha eyes, you can only smile warmly.
"I love you," you breathe, feeling butterflies swirl around inside your stomach.
He smiles brightly, rubbing smooth circles to your distended skin. "I love you, too baby."
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Healing isn't always a one track thing. Sometimes there are setbacks and turns, other times it takes years.
You feel lucky to be getting your life back so quickly and it's only because your husband is the most supportive man of all time.
"So how was this past week?" Doctor Kim inquires, running his hands over the knees of his pants.
Jeongguk kisses the top of your head, wrapping his strong arm around your shoulders when you coddle to his side. "She's doing incredibly well."
You can only beam at his words, sending a shy smile the doctor's way.
"Y/N, how did you feel about the exercise? Did you show Jeongguk how much he means to you?"
"I tried," you breathe, recalling that night. "But it's a two way street with us, I guess."
Namjoon nods, setting down his clipboard. "And you know what? That's okay. In my opinion it's better to have things equal on both sides. It's a good thing that Guk adores you so much that he doesn't want things to be one sided."
"That's right," Guk whispers, intertwining your hand with his.
You look down at his wedding band, leaning your head on his shoulder with a pleasant sigh.
"And what about the anxiety, Y/N? Did you feel much of that?"
Your cheeks burn at the intimate question but you answer the doctor anyway. "No, it all just kind of melted away. I was so focused on pleasing him that it just kind of… faded."
Dr. Kim nods, crossing his legs and taking off his glasses to clean them. "You're healing. That's so important and you're doing it the right way -- together. Soon, you won't even need to come here."
Jeongguk runs his thumb over your bare shoulder, kissing the top of your head until your mind goes blank with only positive emotions.
"What should our exercise be this week?" your husband inquires.
Namjoon tilts his head, looking over how healthy the bond between you both has strengthened. "Just relish in each other's company."
"I really hate this," Guk sighs, wrinkling his nose at the design he's drawn.
The disappointment in his voice draws your attention and suddenly you're draping your upper body over the back of the couch.
"I think it's pretty, what's wrong with it?" you inquire.
He sighs, tossing his pencil down and running his hands through his long hair.
"It just feels so… rigid and so… fucking… bland. It has no soul in it. There's no emotion."
You don't know how he's always been so creative. It's always been a wonder to watch him work whether he was just doodling random cartoon characters or he was trying to create a new look for an upcoming building.
Your husband's eyebrows are notched together tightly, completely absorbed by everything wrong with the sketch.
"It feels so impersonal. There's no real soul in it. No real connection." he seethes, frustrated.
You pout in his direction, wishing you could distract him for just a second.
He's been so caught up in this project it's almost eating away at him.
Guk hasn't been sleeping or eating the way he should, he hasn't been enjoying life since the beginning of this project.
So you do the one thing that will get his attention.
Peeling off your sundress, you stand up off the couch.
Your husband runs his hands over his face due to his frustration and his breath catches in his throat when his eyes open.
"Oh baby, I'm sorry. I'm not really in the mood to-"
"Just let me take care of you," you cut him off, unlatching your bra and letting it fall to the dining room floor.
Jeongguk takes a sharp breath between his teeth, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you between his now parted thighs.
His hands run over your curves, looking up at you with soft, loving eyes.
"You're so beautiful," your husband breathes, leaning in to kiss between the valley of your breasts.
You hum softly, letting your fingers card through his black locks.
His lips pepper more loving kisses to your skin before he's stopping.
"That's what this project needs. More curves! More fluidity! Motion! Something with emotion!" he cries out, sitting up straight.
You sigh, putting your hands on your hips and narrowing your eyes at him.
"I know! I know! You're so totally pissed at me but just stand there for a few minutes," he beams, grabbing the large sketching pad and his pencil.
"Mkay," you concede, watching his eyes drift over you slowly.
"You're my biggest inspiration! I don't know why I didn't think of this before!" he whines, running one hand over your bare side as his dominant hand sketches fluid lines.
"I love you," you remind him.
His hand stutters on the paper and he looks up at you with the most blinding of smiles. "I love you too, gorgeous. Always."
Today was the first day you've had company over in your house since you've gotten back home.
Jimin has been privy to everything being your husband's best friend and he's kept completely silent on the topic which you find yourself grateful for.
But the most frustrating part throughout the whole evening is feeling your friend tiptoe through every conversation you both have.
He stops talking every five seconds as if he's thinking over what he's going to say before actually saying it just in case it triggers something inside of you.
And while you're grateful -- you wish it hadn't come to this.
"Your tomato plants look healthy," Jimin breathes, nodding towards the back patio.
"Jeongguk took good care of them while I was gone." you chirp, feeling your husband's lips press against your temple.
Your best friend clears his throat, slowly nodding at your admission.
Long gone is the frail woman who would jump at each and every small sound and every quick movement.
You just want to be normal again. You don't want to be the kidnapped victim anymore.
You want to be Jeon Jeongguk's wife.
You want to be the mother of a precious little girl.
Not someone who's been taken.
Jimin taps his fingers to the arm of his chair, bringing the mouth of his beer bottle closer to his face.
He's thinking again. Thinking of what to say.
Looking down at your lap, your fingers drift slowly over the swell of your stomach.
"The baby's getting big." your best friend comments.
Your husband takes the opportunity to fawn over you, pulling you close to his sweet smelling chest. "Yeah, she is. We decided to go with Haneul for her name. It's something uplifting and healing. We definitely needed that after everything that's happened."
You're more than grateful that Guk isn't too shy around the subject.
Ignoring the situation is one thing. Pretending like it never happened would kill you inside.
Jimin clears his throat, taking a deep swig of his beer.
Maybe it's your pregnancy hormones or maybe it's something even more troublesome that bubbles with a fury deep within you.
"Jimin. It's okay to talk about it, y'know." you announce, crossing your legs.
"N-No, I know. I just-" he doesn't finish his sentence, looking down at the knees of his pants.
"I'm not scared or ashamed of it anymore. We've both started to heal properly. It's alright for you to speak about it."
Jeongguk kisses your cheek, curving his hand around your distended stomach.
"I know… I just…"
"You don't see me the same anymore? I'm not the same girl that used to stick my used gum in your hair when we were in sixth grade? I'm not the same person that helped you lose your virginity in college by introducing you to Byul? Yes, I was kidnapped. I was handcuffed to a radiator at night. I bagged up drugs for free and got like twenty grains of rice a day. I wasn't allowed to speak. I was losing the feeling in both of my legs when Haeneul kept getting bigger because I couldn't walk anywhere. But I'm okay now. I'm still me. I'm still the same nasty, irritating bitch that made fun of you for that lopsided bowl cut you decided to do on yourself so you could look like Rain."
Jeongguk and Jimin blink in unison.
Your husband kisses the top of your head repeatedly, hugging you closer to his body.
Your best friend stares at you and you can practically see the rusty cogs turning in his mind.
"It wasn't fucking lopsided. All the girls loved that look." Jimin says finally, smirking over the top of his beer bottle.
"Yeah, keep telling yourself that, bud." you giggle, letting your body relax against Guks.
"I'm sorry, Y/N. It's just taking me a while to adjust to you being back. I don't want to upset you." your friend apologizes, leaning forward and placing his hand on your knee.
"You can't possibly upset me, I'm stronger now. Stronger than I've probably ever been," you promise, placing your hand atop his.
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Jeongguk groans loudly as he jumps onto the bed.
His hands open and close childishly, giving you a big smile when you shed his t-shirt from your body.
"You okay?" your husband inquires, running his hands over your thighs as you straddle his waist.
"Yeah, I just don't want to be 'the victim' anymore. I'm healing and I want everyone around me to heal as well."
He nods in agreement, sitting up and drifting his lips over your collarbone.
"I got something you can heal if you're up for it," he quips, pulling your bra strap and letting it snap back into place.
You hum to him, gasping softly when he tugs down the cups of your bra.
"Fuck," he curses softly, suckling softly at the thin skin of your neck.
His chest presses against your stomach and when the gentle kick of your daughter reminds him she's also there he can only smile against your skin.
His hands rub at your distended sides, kissing down the swell of your breasts. "Daddy needs some one-on-one time with mommy right now."
You let out a breathy laugh only to suck a sharp breath between your teeth when the tip of his tongue flicks at your nipple.
Your back arches and Guk takes the opportunity to unlatch your bra, his hands cup beneath your breasts, pushing them up for his viewing pleasure.
"Such pretty tits," he hisses, suckling from one nipple to the other until you're a shivering, sobbing mess before him.
It's a downright sin how fast you get wet for him. He could snap his fingers and you'd be sodden in an instant.
"D-Daddy," you preen softly, combing your fingers through his hair as he pushes your breasts together.
He suckles on both nipples at once, keeping his eyes glued to your pleased face.
Your hips roll against his hardening cock, whimpering when he flicks his tongue quickly against both stiff peaks in tandem.
"You're soaking through your underwear like a little cumslut," he hums, running his hands over your back and laying you down softly.
Jeongguk kisses down your body slowly, drawing out long sighs and whines from you until your mouth is dry and aching.
He leaves hot, open mouthed pecks along the swell of your stomach as he makes his descent.
Your hands are shaky, eyes widening to watch him.
Grabbing needily at your thighs, he kisses over your clothed pubic bone, grabbing the band of your underwear with his teeth and tugging playfully.
"Fuck, you get my cock so hard," he breathes, pulling down his briefs.
His thick cock bobs in the air, pearling with precum and twitching with neediness.
"Christ," you whine, reaching forward to touch it.
He stops you in an instant, kissing up your forearm and hooking his fingers into the sides of your panties.
Guk pulls down your underwear slowly, licking his lips at the amount of arousal that is spread over your bare lower lips.
Tossing the underwear away, he spreads you open with his index and middle finger.
He hums aloud, watching your entrance pulse and quiver, begging to be fucked.
"Pretty little pussy just dying to take my fat cock," he groans, burying his face against your core.
He suckles at your lips, your clit, your thighs, adoring the high pitched whines that emit throughout the room.
"Daddy, please!" you cry out, lifting your hips for more.
Slowly, he enters two fingers into you, kissing up your belly.
You gasp loudly, letting your head loll back at the full feeling.
He curls his fingers to the spongy spot within you that makes you boneless before him.
"M-More!" you whine, fisting the sheets.
He smiles against your skin, adding a third finger.
Your chest heaves and you tug gently on his hair.
"You wanna cum? You wanna soak the bed for me? Hmm?" he inquires cheekily, kissing up to your breast.
You nod quickly, letting your mouth drop open when he begins to fuck you faster with his fingers.
He suckles at your nipple, groaning at the milk that enraptures his taste buds.
Your toes curl and your eyes become spotty.
"I want you to squirt all over my fucking hand." he seethes through his teeth.
The sounds of your wet cunt echo throughout the bedroom and your eyes squeeze shut at the oncoming pleasure that creeps steadily through your body.
"Your belly is getting so big, I love it. You look so beautiful carrying my baby." he murmurs, nipping at your ear lobe.
Your hips lift, moans turning it babbles and semblances of words from different languages.
When he feels your pussy begin to throb around his fingers, your husband moans into your ear. "You're gonna cum for me, aren't you? Cum for daddy, get my hand nice and soaked."
"F-Fuck!" you squeak, pulling at the sheets until they're pooling around your body.
Then the bliss enraptures you, you cry your husband's name loudly, slamming your hips down to his hand with a quickness to ride out your high.
You can feel your arousal squirting out of you in waves and Jeongguk groans loudly at the sight.
Pulling his fingers from your core, he rubs your clit quickly, adoring how your body shudders.
"Good girl," he coos, prying your legs open and entering his fingers into his mouth.
Whimpering gently, you run your hands over his arms, willing your breathing to return to normal.
He runs his hard cock through your folds, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth.
"Your pregnant cunt is so warm," he breathes, thrusting deeply inside of you.
You moan for him, wrapping your legs around his waist and hooking your ankles together.
His thighs spread wider, placing his hands on your belly and running his thumbs soothingly over the skin as you accommodate to his large size.
He starts off slow, letting the bulbous head of his cock drag through your plush walls sensually.
"Oh fuck, yes," he hisses, peppering kisses over your knee and down your thigh.
Your husband takes his time, letting his hands roam over your body.
He's afraid to cum too quickly, it's been a long time since he's been inside you.
Lifting your hips off the bed, he palms the skin of your backside.
"Yes, God, right there!" you whine, digging the heels of your feet into his back.
"Yeah? Right here?" he teases, thrusting hard to the one spot that has your mind swimming, "Like that? Your pregnant little pussy wants more right there?"
You cry out loudly, bringing your hands to knead at your breasts.
"Yes, daddy! More! Please!" you beg.
"Open your mouth," he instructs, letting one of your cheeks go.
Doing as told, he enters two fingers into your mouth. He keeps them flat on your tongue, picking up speed with his hips.
You whine and gargle against his digits, keening loudly when he throws your legs over his shoulders.
He angles himself forward, minding your large stomach.
"You feel so fucking good around me. You're so fucking wet, sloppy little pregnant hole just for me."
You sob loudly against his fingers, letting him fuck you down the bed.
His teeth nip at your calf, groaning at how impossibly tight you are for him.
"What's that, baby girl? I can't hear you. You want it harder? You want me to wreck your pregnant pussy?" he hisses, hooking an arm around your thighs and pressing them tightly against his body.
You scream against his fingers, your second orgasm approaches like a freight train and you know all too well that you won't last much longer.
"Fuck, look at these tits," he groans, pulling his fingers from your mouth and drifting them over your hardened nipples.
"Da-Daddy, I'm gonna cum. I'm gonna…" you whimper, scratching your nails down his thighs.
"Oh, yeah? You wanna cum on this thick cock? Go ahead, baby girl. It's all for you," Guk moans, sliding his knees under your backside and ramming the head of his cock into the soft patch of nerves within you until you're squirting for him once more.
"Christ!" he cries out, pushing your legs off his shoulders and angling his body over yours.
He's seemingly hypnotized by the way your breasts heave upward with each thrust and he keeps his hands on your belly, rubbing smooth circles to the skin.
"Tell me you love me," he begs, squeezing his eyes shut.
"I love you," you sob, watching his long blonde hair fall into his eyes.
"You're never fucking leaving my side again," he seethes, leaning down and suckling at your breast.
"Oh fuck, I'm gonna cum," he sobs against your nipple.
You feel it then, his cock thickening and throbbing for release within you.
"Where do you want it?" he gasps, looking up at you.
"In me, cum inside me! I want to feel it!" you beg, running your nails down his arms.
"Oh, baby!" he moans, thrusting slowly and deep until warm ropes of cum lather your spent walls.
He lets out a shaky sigh, pulling out of you and spreading your lower lips. "Push it out," he instructs.
You do as told, pushing his cum from your blissed core.
"Fucking hot," he murmurs, kissing over your shoulder and laying down beside you with a groan.
His hand cups your stomach, his face nuzzles into your neck and your rapidly beating heart begins to even out once more.
"I love you, baby. More than anything or anyone in this universe." he avows tiredly.
When he feels the gentle kick of your daughter beneath his hand he lifts his head. "You too, princess. I love you too."
You smile at the sight, closing your eyes.
There is no one in this world that could help you heal like your husband beside you.
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"Well," Dr. Kim breathes, "I think this is going to be our last session."
"Really?" you inquire, wide-eyed.
He nods in agreement, taking off his glasses.
"You've healed so much over this past month. Faster than I've ever seen before. You're an incredibly strong woman." the doctor announces.
"Well I have the most supportive partner," you smile, nudging your husband who winks at you in reply.
"You'll still need to be open with each other. You'll need to rely on one another and keep it up but that hole within you is filling up more and more each day."
Jeongguk nods astutely, kissing your temple sweetly.
"You both are the perfect example of healing with a loved one. I can see how much you love each other. I can feel how much you adore the other and that's powerful. That can get you through anything."
Your chest puffs up at the therapist's words. There really is no better person to heal with than Jeon Jeongguk.
"I love you," he whispers into your ear.
"I love you too." you reply, intertwining your fingers.
"And on that note, that ends our session." Namjoon smiles, putting the clipboard on the table and putting his glasses back on.
In this moment, Jeongguk takes in the silence and he relishes it.
While it's loud and it's deafening, it calms him.
Because when you're by his side, the silence sounds like the most healing, romantic song.
2K notes · View notes
hueseok · 3 months ago
Text
mio angelo.
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synopsis: › it’s no secret to the whole nation how powerful the jeon family was. the efforts of the highly respected don jungsoo was the reason why the name of their clan continues to be a name that people thought greatly of and sometimes even feared. despite your father working alongside with the don, you never truly understood what the family possessed to earn them such acclaim; that is until you got closer to one of his grandsons, jeon jeongguk, that you caught a glimpse of how much power they truly seized as you see it first hand and become a part of it yourself.
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pairing: jeongguk x reader
word count: 33.3k (🤠; use the browser when reading to avoid the app from crashing !)
rating: 18+
content: fluff | smut | angst | mafia au | established relationship au | inspired by ‘the godfather’ (so a lot of scenes may have similarities from the novel / movie) + ‘vincenzo’ | ft. lawyer!reader, soon-to-be mafia boss!jeongguk (kinda a spoiler, but kinda not) | this fic is prose heavy !!
warning/s: swearing | mature themes | mentions of smoking, drugs, prostitution, violence, crimes, and murder | explicit sexual content | dirty talk | nipple sucking | creampie | fingering | multiple orgasms | oral (f. + m. receiving) | one mention of breeding kink lmao | praising | begging | choking | riding | cum eating | taking it from behind (lmao idk what it’s called) | overstimulation | unprotected sex (this is fiction okay - be safe irl !)
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━ INTRO.
Your father has always been in debt with the Jeon Family; most specifically to their head, Don Jungsoo.
When you grew up and finally had the right amount of curiosity to ask why, Inhwan only smiled and said that the Don helped him in developing the winery—the winery that today stands as one of the most sought out wine companies in the country, slowly expanding to neighboring nations and even across other continents. He said that because of the Don’s generosity with assisting him in starting the business, taking care of matters that involved papers and endorsements and the easy transportation of goods to various well-known distributors, he was able to build a better future for your mother in about five years’ time, right before they were married and naturally, right before you were even born.
He was able to buy a massive house. He was able to raise you in a very comfortable environment, making sure that you grew up to be greatly taken care of; that you never once felt abandoned or alone, that you wouldn’t have to think twice in asking for something in whatever it is that you wanted and needed. Eventually, he was able to send you off to prestigious schools throughout your studies, even enrolled you to some classes that could develop a fundamental hobby such as drawing and playing the violin, taking any kind of measure without hesitation as long as it will assure him that he has truly done everything he can to lead you to a great future.
When you asked why Don Jungsoo offered so much to him despite the both of them not being blood related, he responded by saying “Your grandpa and him go way back. He always says that if it weren’t for your grandpa, he wouldn’t have found the success he has today.”
Hearing him say that, you were eager to meet Don Jungsoo, mostly because you never had the chance to meet your grandfather who passed away just months before you were brought to the world. At the age of twelve years old, while getting home from school that day, you were granted that opportunity as you arrived at the villa and saw an elderly man conversing with your dad in the common room, the both of them in the middle of a warm handshake, kind of like a goodbye.
That’s when you officially first met him, the Godfather, as Inhwan introduced you, promptly apologizing to Don Jungsoo for only doing so at that instance. Don Jungsoo harbored no hard feelings of course, knowing that it was nothing personal and was merely just a loss of opportunity because of the winery that Inhwan had to constantly oversee and the errands he had to do for the Family. Besides, Don Jungsoo already had the chance to meet you at your baptism and at a birthday of one of his grandsons that Inhwan and his wife were invited to, but you were very young back then to even remember it yourself.
As your eyes met that day, Don Jungsoo regarded you with delight almost immediately, fondly commenting that he thought you definitely inherited certain facial features from the father side of the family and that you have grown from a cute baby to a wonderful little girl. You smiled as he did, mumbling a shy thank you before instinctively hiding behind Inhwan’s waist, a gesture that Don Jungsoo chuckled at. It didn’t take long before you politely said goodbye when he once again concluded his meeting with your father because of the short interruption, the two men he brought along with him expressing their farewells to Inhwan too with a squeeze on Inhwan’s shoulder and also a pat on the back.
Even if that day was so long ago and was only a fragment of your childhood memories, you can always still remember that moment as if it just happened not that long ago. That day was indeed remarkable for you, since there stood the man that your dad has been talking about with so much honor and respect; the man that apparently raised your family from the ashes, the man who gave your father the chance to redeem himself, that it shouldn’t be questioned why Inhwan would treat Don Jungsoo in such a way.
You didn’t need a grown-up’s mind to realize that Don Jungsoo was an influential man. He showed it in his speech, his luxurious suit, and the people he seemed to have posing as his guard. He gave off an air of utmost authority, like there was no mistaking that he was a force you didn’t want to be reckoned with, a figure that people didn’t just respect, but also feared—and for most of your life, you only thought that it was because he was filthy and crazy rich. After all, rich people had all the means in the universe that could grant them the power to rule the entire world.
In Don Jungsoo’s case, his clan, the Jeon Family or more publicly known as JSG Group, was known to be the owner of a power company that chose renewable energy as its priority, the said establishment considered as the best across the state and among its competitors. Aside from the financial gain they already acquired with their principal enterprise, they have bought other businesses that stem from different fields—food and restaurant, motor vehicles, and even health care institutions.
They also had a lot of significant contacts, all who were as filthy and crazy rich as they were—were even secured when it came to legal matters because of the people they knew that were distinguished law practitioners; moreover, they had many friends that were involved notably in politics. It was those reasons why Don Jungsoo was named as one of the most powerful men and richest men in Seoul and has contributed so much with the immense accomplishment of your father’s winery as well. From your knowledge, JSG Group was a major shareholder of the wine company and has appointed Inhwan as the CEO to supervise its growing business.
Amidst all of that though, you shouldn’t have been naive enough to think that the winery’s said triumph was only made possible because of the Don’s well-known colossal wealth. You shouldn’t have been too dependent on the explanation that it was because Don Jungsoo was just inherently successful for everything to just go the way he wanted—for everything to fall into place in just a snap of his fingers.
It was only when you got particularly closer to one of his grandsons, Jeon Jeongguk, that you got a glimpse of what the Family precisely ran that made them so acclaimed and worshiped. It was only then did you understand and get to know what goes on behind the scenes that brought the Jeon Family such eminence, and whether your knowledge of it was for the better or for the worst, you didn’t really know.
━ CHAPTER I.
You and Jeongguk have been well acquainted since your youth. You knew him as the Don’s grandchild, the youngest in the eight that he had, and is said to be even affectionately referred to as Don Jungso’s ‘golden boy’ for he truly could do no wrong in his grandfather’s eyes.
To the Don, Jeongguk was shaped and made to be part of the business from the second he was born. Don Jungsoo said this with utmost confidence and pride in every chance he got for Jeongguk held all the qualities that he was expecting to come from an adequate head of their organization in the future. Jeongguk grew up to be a man who honored the Family’s good morals; a man who knew of loyalty, who valued true brotherhood; a man who knew when to use his brain or wield his fist; a man who you could sit down and reason with with the aim of diplomacy; a man who was adept in getting in the good sides of people, even the enemies, with his sweet tongue.
In Don Jungsoo’s three sons, there were always two or three qualities that were missing in his personal criteria for him to applaud them like he applauded his golden boy. His eldest son, Jeongguk’s father, thought too much, hesitated a lot in his choices, always wanted the majority to decide on something before he decided himself; the middle child, has never been interested in taking part of the business and most of the time remained distant with the Family in general, often treating it as nonexistent when got together with the rest of them on holidays and such; and as for the youngest, he was seen as too much of a coward to be relied on in any important mission by the Don, but he was at least dedicated in helping out in the best way he could to not be appreciated still..
As for the Don’s grandchildren, he had six girls and two boys. Since it was never an option by the Don to begin with to inflict the problems of the Family business to any of its women, his six granddaughters were ruled out automatically in his head and he only spoiled them of gifts and of love as his means to let them have a taste of what the business provided. In regards to his grandson aside from Jeongguk, who came from the middle child, the boy was much like his father who didn’t want anything to do with their source of outcome for him to be taken into mind. The Don respected the decision of his middle child and didn’t force him or his son to embrace their living, though he at least expected that they remain close to the family when it came to personal matters.
Jeongguk entered the business at the early age of 15 years old. It wasn’t supposed to be that way, for it was too young and too soon, but it was a time where there was prominent tension between the Four Families of Seoul that Jeongguk’s father convinced himself that would feel more at peace with if he knew that his son at least knew how to use a gun. Of course, the Don wasn’t consented first before Jeongguk was taught to defend himself and Don Jungsoo disapproved of Hanseo’s decision, as he always did, however, there was nothing even he could do to reverse what has already been and instead of acting like things were the way they were, in a poor attempt to save whatever innocence that is still left on the boy’s mind, he permitted Jeongguk to be introduced to their ways and to the Mafia.
Just a year after Jeongguk was brought in, he “made his bones” by being a member of Inhwan’s regime and partaking in an operation that had something to do with confronting a businessman to cave in to what the Don offered. The man was supposed to pick sides, to choose between serving the Jeon Family like he has been for half of his life or the Lee Family who came into the picture and threatened to do expeditions for them, and when the businessman declared that he was now loyal to the latter and detested his association to the Jeon clan, Inhwan permitted Jeongguk to do the honors of assassinating the traitor a few days later, thus, officially acknowledging him as a made man.
For the years that followed, Jeongguk became Inhwan’s right-hand man. It was the Don’s intention to place Jeongguk under Inhwan’s faction rather than Hanseo, for he thought that having Hanseo show his own son the ropes of the business was a little unhealthy given the man’s known wariness for the safety of his only child. So, Jeongguk became closer with Inhwan instead when it came to anything related to the business; the Caporegime he was serving trained him to be better and to be sharper in what he did.
“Jeongguk, you’ve met my daughter before, right? ____?” Inhwan said as he welcomed the grandson of the Don to his home, walking with him to his office supposedly but before they could get to the room, they had to pass through the kitchen where you were preparing yourself a meal.
Jeongguk, now 23 at that time, glanced at you and was able to instantly discern your familiar face. You’ve been a guest at some parties that his family has held in the past, he has heard your name escape past people’s lips multiple times before in casual conversations, but this was perhaps the first time that the both of you were exchanging introductions. He only knew you as Inhwan’s daughter who the Caporegime always mentioned in great esteem for being the top student of your university’s honor list; the only daughter who Inhwan cherished after his wife passed on ten years ago and who typically lived in the campus dormitory since she attended college, hence why he never had the chance to see you so close before (aside from the fact that he has studied overseas for the last four years, of course).
You made eye contact and the second you two did, Jeongguk approached you in courtesy, extending out a hand. “It’s nice to formally meet you.”
You looked at your father then back at Jeongguk, wiping your hand on the towel by the counter and finally shaking his hand. “The pleasure is all mine.”
When Inhwan and Jeongguk arrived at the office, it was obvious that you were still in the young boy’s mind. He never said anything about you again throughout the affairs he had to discuss with Inhwan though, as he thought of it as disrespectful to be straightforward with his attraction towards you to your father, but it was from that day forward that he began visiting your household frequently, even the dormitory you stayed at during weekdays, just to get to know you better, and let you get to know him more too. He was definitely interested in being more than friends, but he wanted things to run naturally and not come out as forced for him to be truly blunt about his feelings.
“I’ve been hearing that you’ve been spending a lot of time with Inhwan’s daughter these past weeks,” Hanseo, Jeongguk’s father, opened up for dinner one night. “You like the girl?”
“Would he spend the majority of his time with her if he didn’t?” His mother, Yeonjin, retorted.
Hanseo remained serious as he spoke again. “If your intentions aren’t good with her, you should drop it, Guk. She’s the daughter of one of our close family friends. It’s not good to go behind Inhwan’s back and steal his child away. If what you’re only looking for is one good night, don’t try finding it with ____.”
Jeongguk laid down his spoon gently. He was slightly offended to be viewed in that kind of light by his Pop, but he was a young man after all, and young men certainly didn’t go for serious relationships these days. “Should I ask Inhwan first before I pursue anything serious with ____ then?”
His parents shared a look; Hanseo snorted even in amazement while Yeonjin remained smiling.
“Are your intentions good with ____?” Hanseo repeated.
“I like her,” Jeongguk said. “She’s interesting, and she’s kind, and she’s beautiful, and most importantly, she gets me. We can talk for hours and I wouldn’t know because time doesn’t move as fast when I’m with her.”
Hanseo continued staring at him, analyzing him, trying to guess if he was being honest with what he just said. After what seemed like a minute of scrutinizing Jeongguk, he shrugged as if it was suddenly not a big deal. “I’ll talk to Inhwan, get him to agree in setting you up with his daughter,” Hanseo assured him.
“I can do that myself. I’ll talk to Inhwan.”
“You want to talk to Inhwan yourself?”
“Yes. I want to assure him that I’m serious with what I want with ____.”
“In that degree, we might as well just arrange the both of you two wed.”
“No, no,” Jeongguk shook his head immediately, “I don’t want it to be forced. I don’t want to rush things. I just want to know that it’s okay and my personal interests won’t affect the Family.”
The following day, Hanseo still talked to Inhwan about Jeongguk’s attraction to you as a heads up. Inhwan just chuckled, admittedly fond with Jeongguk to think of it as a bad idea, nodded, and said that as long as Jeongguk won’t do anything that would harm you or disrespect you on purpose, then he was going to be on board with whatever relationship Jeongguk was going to have with indeed his only daughter; his permission was the least of what he could give considering that Jeongguk was the Godfather’s grandson. Besides, he really wasn’t a stranger to Jeongguk at this point; he practically raised him along with the others with Inhwan’s significant role in the Family business to perceive him as not a good fit for you.
On the Friday of that very week, Jeongguk went to the campus grounds of your university. He waited outside the building where he knew you would be taking your last class, leaning against the hood of his lavish Maranello with his arms crossed and his sunglasses on the bridge of his nose. Passersby ogled at him; murmured about his vehicle, some even took sneaky snapshots to send to their friends about how there was such a car in the premises. Even Jeongguk himself was well talked about by the students, with his right arm covered with elegant yet intimidating tattoos, the striking manner in which he stood and leaned there, and the fact that he was wearing this orangish yellow short-sleeved Fendi button down and was pulling it off despite how its color and style contradicted to the dangerous aura he was giving.
When you got out of the building, still conversing with a classmate, it took you a few more seconds to notice him; if it weren’t for a distant voice of another classmate saying how there was a ‘literal world treasure’ before his eyes, you wouldn’t have curiously looked forward and saw Jeongguk there, already staring at you, head tilted to the side while he indulged himself in the beauty of your appearance. As you regarded his presence with a smile, he lifted his sunglasses, pushing it past his forehead and over his hair, and flashed a smirk at you.
“Who’s that hot piece of ass?” Your friend, with her jaw slightly hanging down, blatantly asked. “Do you know him?”
“He’s a family friend.”
“A family friend?”
“A good family friend.” You grinned all knowingly. “I’ll see you next week.”
You skipped down the stairs without giving your friend a chance to interrogate you further and stopped right in front of Jeongguk who met you halfway. He had a handsome grin on his face and upon your arrival, automatically reached out to get your bag for you, a gesture that you stopped from happening by swaying your tote bag and books to the other side of where he was reaching for.
“Are you just going to act like you coming here is a thing we planned?” you asked with a chuckle.
The grin hasn’t left his mouth, only transforming into a playful one. “Sorry. I’ve always been under the impression that on one of these days, you want me to whisk you away before you get home and take you somewhere far.”
“Ah, of course, you have read my mind and obtained one of my deepest desires. Though I’m assuming this far place we’re pertaining to is the beach? What’s with this polo?” You couldn’t help but tease, even touching the hem to straighten it for a second.
Jeongguk remained looking at you, shamelessly ignoring your teasing. “Pop already talked with your Dad. And I already talked with him too.”
“Talked about what?” You were still examining the print of his top.
“About us.”
That had you flickering your gaze up to meet his, your delight not being concealed as the ends of your lips twitched. “What about us?”
Jeongguk rolled his eyes. “Come on, don’t pretend that you don’t know what this thing is between us.”
“I’m not following, Guk.” The mischief in your gaze said otherwise and he chuckled, shaking his head, successfully getting your belongings this time when he reached for it. “What is this thing between us? All I know is that we’re great family friends and that—”
“Go out with me,” he cut you off, not letting you go longer with your act, “go out with me and let me show you a good time. More than great family friends tonight. What do you say?”
“Tonight?” You at least looked pleased and willing. “I might have to ask my father first.”
“I told you, I already asked him.”
“Even with what you want to do tonight?”
“All I want to do tonight is to take you out on a date. Just putting it out there just so we’re clear.”
You chuckled, nodding. “Yeah, crystal clear.”
“All I need is your yes, ____,” he added. “Won’t you give me that yes?”
He knew he was going to get what he wanted either way in how you smiled, how your cheeks blushed, and how you were abruptly getting fidgety, a thing you did that he noticed would only showcase itself whenever you were giddy or nervous. Nonetheless, the rush of serotonin didn’t stop you from teasing him again when you gave your answer. “I would, but I’m not exactly dressed in an attire that matches yours. I mean, I don’t even know if I have something that’s as flashy as that in my closet.”
“You’re really amused with what I’m wearing, aren’t you?”
“I just have never seen you in anything other than black or any other dark color.” You snorted. “But I like it. You look good. Very suave, still.”
“You really think that?”
“Yeah, I’m serious. You look very handsome.”
Jeongguk had noticed too that you were not one to shy away from speaking your thoughts out. It was another trait he liked about you. “Alright, now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, come on—” he laughed when you did— “get in the car and I’ll drive you home first so that you can change.”
You nodded, eagerly heading to the passenger’s side, Jeongguk doing the same. “Where will you take me after that?”
“To the beach. Like you said.”
You laughed louder at that. “Sounds amazing.”
He opened the door for you and pushed it closed once you were settled inside.
Jeongguk did take you to the beach that afternoon. It was counted as your first date. You laid in the sand with him, the both of you talking about your day and other things that came to mind. You ate some cheap good food at the near convenience store, an occurrence that Jeongguk almost stopped from happening since he wanted to take you somewhere nicer for dinner, but you refused and insisted that you didn’t want anything heavy or expensive for that matter; you just wanted to be with him and act like teenage couples that couldn’t get rid of the too-happy smiles on their faces while they spent the day with their lover. Of course, you didn’t tell him the last part verbally, didn’t tell him directly yet that you wanted him to see you as a lover, but Jeongguk got the message and exactly went along with what you secretly hoped for.
By the time the sun was nowhere to be seen and the night had fallen, he told you that you two should probably get going home. The ride back was approximately 30 minutes long and he didn’t want to abuse the trust that Inhwan granted him by keeping you up too late and until the last minute for the first date. Thankfully, you agreed without a fuss, and for the whole time he drove you back to the villa, your hand was intertwined with his, laid on your thigh that was closer to the gearstick so he wouldn’t have trouble switching gears and holding your hand at the same time. He had to pretend that he wasn’t too happy with the show of affection you were sharing with him, but there was no mistaking from his expression throughout the drive that he was thrilled.
“Thank you for today, Guk,” you said as he stopped in front of your home, pushing the button that unlatched the seatbelt. “I had fun.”
“Thank God.” He laughed and so did you. You gazed at each other for a while before he squeezed your hand and let go, about to unfasten his seatbelt. “Let me walk you to the front door.”
“That won’t be needed.” You held his bicep to stop him, a successful tactic. “Dad’s probably home already and I know you say that he’s okay with us doing this but I still prefer if he wouldn’t see what I’m going to do.”
He knitted his eyebrows together, close to asking what you meant but you had already launched yourself towards him and kissed his mouth, catching him completely off guard. “Good night,” you said then, grinning, though your attempt to get out of the vehicle urgently after you said that failed to do a dramatic exit as Jeongguk gently pulled you back with a gentle hold on your wrist to kiss you again, this time in a fuller and proper way.
His calloused palm landed on your cheek, another on your neck, and when he leaned away in what seemed like hours of your lips on the other, your tongues clashing at one or multiple points in fervor—it was only so he could do the boyish gesture of smirking at you, kissing you again instantly afterwards, a soft groan rumbling in his throat while he kept you a bit longer in his car than he planned. That night marked the beginning of your budding relationship with him.
It also marked the moment when he realized that it was your nerve and determination that Jeongguk truly loved the best when it came to you. However, it wasn’t going to be for another few years that he would soon discover that just like everything in the world, your nerve and determination had limitations of its own, that there were going to be occasions wherein you would back out and play it safe—and he was willing to fill that portion of cowardice you possessed with the courage he was born with and worked hard for in his bones.
━ CHAPTER II.
Growing up, Inhwan never pressured you with the possibility that you’d have to take over the winery once you were old enough. Instead, he insisted that you follow your own dreams and he will be here, always right behind you, supporting you in any way that he could to make sure that dream of yours would come true.
Truth be told, it was never his intention to build the wine company in hopes that it could be a permanent business for his children and grandchildren—at least not at first when Don Jungsoo proposed the idea to him. The Don only told Inhwan that he should think of another venture that the Jeon Family can go into, a venture that would serve as another front for the real Family business, and in return for his efforts to build this future company and act as its CEO for the following years to come, he would be granted most of its earnings, since being so would not cause an issue with the Family due to his record of loyalty, which Inhwan felt very grateful for.
At Inhwan’s motivation, you decided to go towards the path of being an accomplished lawyer. Of course, that would take more years of studying and more years of general sleepless nights and frustration until you probably would have to wish death to fall upon you later on. But you were determined to prove yourself out there and do something that your heart genuinely longed for, not caring how long it would take and how much you would have to endure just to be at the top of your game. Inhwan, like promised, was more than willing to provide you with everything necessary for a bright road heading to your dream.
Inhwan knew you were an intelligent woman. The fact slapped him in the face every time you talked and made comments about the news or the wine company, speaking your mind out even at times no one frankly asked for your thoughts. You weren’t only smart because you knew how to memorize the texts on your school books—you were a true intellectual. He knew that and knew that he didn’t need to ask the Godfather to call important contacts to be guaranteed that you will get into the finest law school in Seoul once you were a few months away from finishing your undergraduate studies—but he still did, just to double-check, just to feel at ease that he won’t have to answer to his daughter’s disappointment when you discover that you didn’t get in.
You still got in though, thank goodness, without any of the Family’s special friends pulling some strings for him, earning it fair and square. The next thing you know, you have already spent four years in law school and have graduated, eventually passing the bar exam, your name printed as one of the top scorers. Once again, Inhwan was grateful that he didn’t have to contact anyone, knowing that if you discovered what he did, you would take it as more of an insult than a favor since more than anyone, it was supposed to be Inhwan who trusted your ability to pass on your own.
In celebration for yet another impressive feat of yours, he hosted a big get-together in the villa, inviting the Family and other people to share the momentous occasion with the both of you. Inhwan, though positive that the Don has not changed his mind in including women openly in the business, knew that the Godfather would find your obvious achievement beneficial to the Family, so he made sure to give highlight to your passing (even if it was just the start) as much as he could. You’ve been dating the Don’s grandson for four years now after all; it was only natural for Inhwan to always want to bring you into a better light and deem you as indeed worthy.
“Guk,” you breathlessly chuckled, your boyfriend’s tongue swiping against your skin, “they’re going to notice we’ve gone missing.”
Jeongguk pulled away from your neck, the skin of your throat littered with red marks that you’d have to cover up by changing into a turtle neck after the both of you were done. “So what? They’ll just understand that I’m just giving my smart girl her present.”
“And what is your present?” You couldn’t help but release a small moan when he lapped his tongue once more on your flesh and pressed himself against you deliciously harder on the mattress. “Your dick?”
“What? You don’t want it?” He snickered.
“You can’t be serious.”
“I have a greater gift other than my manhood, angel.” He leaned back fully, a handsome grin on his features, his arms supporting half of his weight as he hovered you. “Do you wanna see it?”
“Your manhood? Well, we both know it’s not something I haven’t seen before—”
“No,” he rolled his eyes, snatching a long kiss on your mouth for your silliness, “my gift. What I bought for you.”
You raised your eyebrows. “You really brought something for me?”
“Of course.” Another kiss, now on your forehead, and he stood up.
He went to your dresser, took the small paper bag that you didn’t even notice the first time around for you were too preoccupied with Jeongguk’s lips to mind anything else, and sat down on the spot he was in just seconds ago to officially present it to you. You watched in anticipation as he brought a black box out, your eyes widening impulsively at what it possibly meant and what it had inside though before you could speak, Jeongguk beat you to it. “I’m not proposing. In case you were thinking about that,” he said, placing the paper bag he didn’t need anymore on the floor.
You released a huff of relief. “I would have said no anyways.”
He flashed his eyes on you, hurt. “Really?”
“You’re not proposing, right?”
“Yeah, but it’d be nice to know that if I was, you would have said yes regardless.”
“I would have, but just not at this moment. Wouldn’t want being engaged to you steal the limelight of my accomplishment.”
He snorted. “Can’t say you’re wrong. It’d be a nationwide phenomenon.”
“Sometimes, you can go too far over the top of your head, sweetheart.” You gently held his chin to drag his face closer so you could plant a kiss on his mouth.
Jeongguk smirked and opened the velvet box. There inside lay a thin gold chain necklace with five diamonds, the five of them glittering and placed tightly next to each other in the middle. You unconsciously held your breath at its gorgeousness, your interest in jewelry not being hidden at that instant, for you can’t deny that as you got older, your love for shiny things increased too, but then you thought about how this must have cost a fortune—not that it would be any problem to Jeongguk if it had—that a frown came to your face the next instant.
“Jeongguk…”
“I didn’t spend that much on it,” he defended immediately, aware that you would open the topic of how much was this. “This didn’t put me close to bankruptcy or something.”
“Huh, that’s not at all a very guilty thing to say, Guk.”
He chuckled at the sarcasm. “Well, okay—you can’t expect me not to go all out sometimes. You deserve gifts like this.”
“Do I really?”
“Of course, you do, angel.” He took the necklace from its box. “Turn around for me. Let me put it on you and let’s see what it looks like.”
You obliged, scooting towards him and spinning around to let your back face him. You swept your hair to the other side and lifted it up, Jeongguk swinging his arms over you and laying the necklace flat against your skin, the five diamonds just by your collar. The cold sensation of the chain made goosebumps rise on your nape; Jeongguk locked it in place and lightly pulled the diamonds lower to fix it on your neck.
He kissed your shoulder sweetly when he was done. “Okay, let’s see it.”
You both stood up, trudging to the full length mirror you had in your room. As you stood before it, you could clearly see the diamonds gleaming with enthusiasm; you’re already sure that no one would miss it when you go outside and greet some guests again. You know they would automatically think that it was Jeongguk who gave you such an exquisite present, considering that even though your father would not hesitate to give you expensive jewelry like this one, Inhwan didn’t exactly have the same good taste as your boyfriend to have the necklace mistaken as his gift.
“Looks like it was made for you,” Jeongguk commented with a proud smile, kissing the same spot on your shoulder. “Do you like it?”
“I love it.”
He chuckled, encircling his arms around your waist, still placing sweet kisses on your skin.
“How much is this?” You still couldn’t help but ask.
He shook his head. “No, no, this is a gift, I won’t tell you how much it costs.”
“Just give me an estimate, Guk.”
“It’s as grand as my love for you.”
You scoffed. “I’ll be offended if I discover that this isn’t as expensive in my head.”
He laughed. “I assure you it’s worth a lot. When have I ever given you anything that didn’t match your significance to me?”
“That’s your flaw, really. You spend too much.”
“I don’t mind.” He nuzzled his face on your neck. “Not if it’s for you.”
You turned around and embraced his torso, smiling, touched and swooned by his words as he always had the ability to do. You pushed yourself upwards with your toes, properly kissing him on the lips and Jeongguk reciprocated the gesture with a content smile, his hand on your hip tightening.
“Thank you,” you murmured. “I appreciate it, you know I do. But next time, how about you give me something that isn’t too glorious, alright?”
“No promises.”
You narrowed your eyes on him, a complaint bubbling inside you though just as you were about to say it out loud, Jeongguk was quick enough to prevent your actions by capturing your mouth again with his, humming in a teasing manner as he slowly led you back to the bed.
Three knocks on your door interrupted the moment, the two of you freezing at the sound. “Guk? Are you in there?” A familiar voice was heard from the other side of the door.
“No, he isn’t,” you promptly lied.
“____, I can sense that you’re holding him captive even from miles away.” He chuckled.
You sighed and untangled yourself from Jeongguk, opening the door.
There outside at the hall stood Seokjin, the adoptive brother of Jeongguk who was also a good friend of yours and an already valued lawyer himself. He was five years older than him and six years older than you, and being someone who always treated you like a little sister of his own, especially when you started to date Jeongguk, he was always kind to remind you since your law school days that if ever you needed anyone’s guidance about your shared field, he was there and was only one call away. You told him you were certainly going to take him up for that someday when you indeed needed his help, very comfortable with him to possibly open the topic in the future.
Seokjin glanced at Jeongguk. “Your grandpop wants to talk to you.”
“What is it about?” Jeongguk was smoothing his hair.
“Business, as usual.” Seokjin looked at you next. “Sorry for stealing him away—and in the middle of your party too. But it’s important.”
“No worries, I understand. Besides, Dad might not be too thrilled if he caught us in here before you have. We were just going to join the others again anyway.”
“Ah, yes, remember to keep yourself pure before marriage, ____. Saving yourself for your wedding night is definitely still the trend with the old folks.” Seokjin grinned.
“A possible yet at the same time impossible task,” you further joked.
“I’ll see you again later, okay?” Jeongguk appeared beside you to head to the door, pecking your cheek and glancing at his brother. “Jin, look at what I’ve bought, isn’t it beautiful?” He pointed at the necklace you wore.
Seokjin turned his eyes on it like asked and pursed his lips in approval, staring at it with an amused expression, nodding. “Gorgeous. You wear it well, ____. Of course, that is if we’re talking about the diamond necklace and not the forming hickeys.”
Your face burned; you tried to look nonchalant to preserve what’s left of your dignity, moving your hair then to the front to conceal the love bites. “Well, both were given by this clever guy right here.” You glared at Jeongguk who was staring at your neck now with an even prouder gaze. You hit him on the stomach because of it.
“That doesn’t come as a surprise.” Seokjin snorted and patted Jeongguk’s back as the young man stepped out. “We’ll catch up with you again after we’re done. I won’t keep him for too long.”
“No, it’s really alright. Settle what needs to be settled. In fact, don’t bother to return him if it’s that important.”
Seokjin laughed, pushing Jeongguk away before the latter could snap something back. “Noted. Congratulations again, princess. I look forward to seeing you in court one day.”
“Thanks, Jin. Hopefully not against each other though.” You smirked.
He chuckled and strided forward with an arm around Jeongguk’s shoulders, leading him to the direction where your father’s office was located.
You’ve been informed that the Jeon Family has been talking about matters concerning the winery. The Don, being the Chairman of the board, was discussing affairs with Inhwan that you weren’t really aware of for your father never liked sharing them with you.
It was odd in your opinion, to still be kept under the light about anything that involved the wine company, for you’ve had the impression that once you grew up and has made it apparent that you could be a good help to the business despite your choice of profession not entirely centered around it, he would be more open to letting you in the scoop. Instead, you still had to mostly hear news about what he planned for it through hints from Jeongguk or other employees. Whenever you’d ask Inhwan yourself if there was anything you could do for the business, he would only squeeze your shoulders as he hugged you from the side, assuring you that you didn’t have to worry about anything, and that he could manage on his own and with the help of the Don just fine.
You let it slide but you were always salty about his secrecy deep down as you even reckon that Seokjin was more involved with it than you were. You’ve eavesdropped once in a conversation shared by your father and his friends at the patio of your villa that Seokjin was practicing his law degree exclusively for the Don (you’ve taken it as he was a part of the lawyers representing JSG Group), meaning he probably took care of anything related to the legalities of the winery too.
In a part of your mind, you didn’t get why Seokjin wouldn’t want to kick start his career first by gaining experience and taking a lot of various cases first rather than working for one big client after graduation. You knew the Don probably could offer him a sum that no client could ever give him, but in regards to the practice of law itself, you weren’t so sure. It seemed to be working out for Seokjin regardless though; he has always been sharp-witted and sensible anyways to not make the right decision.
Eventually, you’d have the opportunity of knowing exactly how sharp-witted and sensible Seokjin can be; you’d be far astonished to the point of actually beginning to deem him as a better lawyer than you were yourself, because unlike you, Seokjin had a certain quality within him that made him the perfect legal adviser.
━ CHAPTER III.
Jeongguk, since the day he became a made man, was always reminded that everything that revolved around the Mafia was strictly business. The transactions, the meetings, the negotiations, and even the violence that may come along with it if diplomacy was not the effective way to go was part of the whole ordeal. He had to instill in his head from the very start that nothing from their world should be taken personally—even if a member gets hurt because of another Family or a mafioso becomes a traitor to their organization. Everything was still going to be considered as business or done for the sake of business; nothing should ever be taken personally or with the aim to hurt the mafioso’s personal life.
That was one of the reasons why the Cosa Nostra was still seen as an honorable society despite the dangers and the various dirty businesses it carried out. Even though their people were comprised of crooks, thieves, murderers, and other nouns to describe generally bad people, they still had a set of morals of their own that they religiously kept within themselves and followed. However, there were flaws and loopholes to those ethics they observed, and the thin line that separated business matters and personal matters was something they overstepped at times in being too inflamed with their innate greediness.
“Are you sure it just happened? No one attacked my father?” Hanseo frustratingly asked through the phone. “How about that guy? Jang Yeocheol? He was obviously more than displeased when the Don refused to fund his plan for that wack of a narcotic casino. He didn’t do anything about it?”
Jeongguk waited patiently in the single leather chair inside the office. One thing he was sure of is not to rush and ask questions when Hanseo was asking them to someone else and was obviously agitated over the line. The person he was talking to was the Don’s bodyguard, the person who was in charge of driving him in and out of the office and to any other errands he wanted to go; his name was Yoongi and from Jeongguk’s knowledge, he was also one of Inhwan’s most trusted men, a guy he considered as his right-hand man since Jeongguk formed his own regime.
“Okay. I’m sending men there for backup. No doubt the news is already out about the Don’s condition.” Hanseo ended the call and glanced at Jeongguk.
“What happened to Grandpop?” he put forward.
“Stroke. Just fell in his office chair and his secretary found him there. Don’t worry, he’s okay, he was spotted early on and the doctor in charge of him is Dr. Hwang. I’m sure he’ll be doing anything to make sure the old man’s okay. You know him, don’t you?”
“Yeah.” Jeongguk nodded. “He owes Grandpop a lot of favors. Should I do something? Should I go to the hospital too?”
“No, no, I don’t want you going there until I’m sure there really isn’t foul play involved. I know it’s not unlikely for Pop to suffer from something like that, the man’s not getting younger after all, but it’s still better to be sure. I’m going to have them review the CCTVs at the office; I’ll ask a guy I know to look through the phone calls of anyone close to the Don recently. Especially Yoongi—just for a safety measure, I don’t think that kid has it in him to betray us if that was the case.” Hanseo dialled another number on his phone.
Jeongguk took out his phone as well, the other one he used for the business. “Don’t you want me to call anyone too? The other Three Families might be jumping on this opportunity to put us in the bad light; for sure they’ll have the people think that his condition is worse than it already is.”
“I already have Seokjin working on that. He’ll be talking to the director at HSN News to make sure nothing leaks or at least nothing makes a big deal out of it. Why don’t you just go ahead and talk to your uncles? Ask them where they are and how they’re doing.”
“Really? That’s all you want me to do?”
“Yes, Guk, just go ahead and do it for me.” Hanseo made a hand movement that meant ‘go do it’ as he said his greetings to the person who just answered his call.
Jeongguk started calling his two other uncles at his father’s request; the second eldest, though having never shown his obvious affection for their Family, was panicked when he got Jeongguk’s call, quickly asking if the Don was alright. Jeongguk assured him that everything was okay and that they were handling it here in the headquarters, a.k.a. the home of Don Jungsoo itself, efficiently. His uncle murmured his praises of thanks to the heavens and promised that he’ll be travelling as fast as he could back to Seoul, in which Jeongguk immediately said that the best thing that he could do there is wait for a while until they confirm that matters are truly fine; once all of that is done, Jeongguk will ask Inhwan to send a couple of men over to his uncle so that his travel can be arranged, a preposition that the second eldest son of Don Jungsoo agreed without further complaint.
For the youngest of his two uncles, the Family scaredy-cat as Hanseo liked to tease his brother for, already knew what was happening when he answered the call. It was obvious that he was shaken but was gratefully getting his shit together as he told Jeongguk that he’s already digging into it too. This uncle of his talked about how even though the Don was already in his late 70s, he still believed that his father would not fall into sickness like that, a statement that Jeongguk had to disagree to since it was him who had to see the Don every single day and see him act more like his age the more time passed by, but he chose not to say anything for the sake of his uncle who still thought of the Don so highly that even natural causes just didn’t seem plausible for him.
After Jeongguk was done making that last call, he was about to go back to the office and update himself with the next course of actions that Hanseo must already be devising when he saw your Caller’s ID flash on his screen and he figured you must have heard the news too. He answered quickly, hearing your concerned tone over the line right as he pressed the phone again against his ear.
“Hey, Guk, is he alright?” you asked, your sweet voice entering his ears that he unconsciously relaxes, not noticing that for the past thirty minutes or so of talking with his uncles and going over with what he knew so far, he has been tense and sweating through his palms.
“Yeah, he is. They’re still checking on him though but he’s fine.”
“That’s great to hear. I was surprised when I saw the article online. Do you know that they already wrote something about Don Jungsoo?”
Jeongguk closed his eyes in exasperation. “Now I do.”
“It’s horrible. I mean, I understand that they may think that the news would downplay the company but why would they go as far as reporting a personal matter like that so quickly. It’s practically inhumane.”
“Yeah,” Jeongguk sighed, agreeing despite knowing the precise answer to your wonder—that the news of the Don’s illness would bring definitely confidence in the other Families, that others would assume that the Jeon clan wouldn’t be as powerful as they were without Don Jungsoo, given that the majority of the important contacts they had were acquired thanks to their loyalty to Don Jungsoo.
A short pause. “How about you, sweetheart?” you asked. “How are you holding up?”
He shrugged even if you couldn’t see it. It was the first time someone asked how he was doing after the whirlwind of events. “I don’t know. I’d say I’m okay but I don’t know. I don’t feel good.”
“You must be feeling bad, I’m sorry for asking a stupid question. Your grandfather is in the hospital for god’s sake—it wouldn’t be unusual for you to feel that way. Should we visit him where he’s admitted later when I’m done here? Or you can go ahead and I’ll follow.”
“Sure, just right after I check in with Pop. I’ll pick you up and we’ll go there together.”
“Okay, whatever you say.”
“Thanks for asking how I am, angel.” He sighed, a small smile appearing on his features. He hated it when you downplayed your thoughtfulness by claiming it was stupid; he didn’t want you to think that he didn’t think it was sweet or touching. “I needed to hear your voice after the news. It’s a nice reliever, you know?”
“He’ll be fine, Guk.” You assured him. “The Don’s a strong man—a good man too. He’ll be okay.”
Jeongguk nodded. “Yeah, of course. He’ll be fine.” A thought jumped in his mind abruptly. “How’s your day, by the way? Have you talked with your dad?”
“Yeah, he called. He said he’ll be sending a chauffeur for me—for what reason, I don’t know what; he said that he just wanted me to get home safely. I declined though, I told him I wanted to talk to you first. Does this have to do anything with the Don?”
There were these moments wherein Jeongguk was positive that you knew much more than what you let on. He never would think you were stupid to not get what the Family really did after all these years of your father being a caporegime and your romantic relationship with him who plays an important role in the business; it’s just that a lot of people typically only assumed that the Don’s power and wealth all rooted from the power company and the other ventures the Jeon Family pursued, that it wouldn’t surprise Jeongguk if that’s what you only thought of as well. However, there were always said times like these in which you’d give him a flicker of awareness that he’d also always find himself second guessing.
Before he could have answered, Seokjin, who had slipped inside the office with Inhwan earlier while Jeongguk was conversing with his uncles, peeked outside at the hallway and looked at him. “Your pop’s asking you to pack it up quickly. You still talking with the two?”
“No. This is already ____ I’m talking with.”
“Hurry up, kid.”
Jeongguk hated it when Seokjin called him ‘kid’, even if it was used in a context of brotherly affection. He watched as the acting Consigliere disappeared inside the office again; he focused his attention back to you, still on the line and waiting. “I have to go,” he said, not bothering to pick up where the conversation was on. “They’re asking for me.”
“Yeah, I heard.”
“I’ll text you if I get the go signal, alright? Don’t go anywhere and just stay in the firm. I’ll fetch you myself when I finish talking to them.”
“Is it really that bad for all of you to behave this way?” Your tone was joking, light, but he knew that it was a serious question.
“No, no, it’s just a precaution. I think you’re already aware that Grandpop has a lot of enemies, don’t you?”
“I know. I just don’t know why you’d have to be careful with me too.”
Everything in the Mafia was business, nothing should ever be personal; alongside that, the Families mostly kept their words in never hurting women or children. “Just a precaution,” Jeongguk repeated. “I want—and I’m sure Inhwan wants as well—for you to be safe,” he explained.
You didn’t push it. “Okay then. I’ll be here and I won’t go anywhere unless it’s you who’s taking me.”
“Good. I’ll see you later.”
“See you.”
Jeongguk got the memo four hours later that the men that Hanseo hired to investigate the Don’s case concluded that there was no foul play involved and that the stroke the Don experienced was merely a normal occurrence because of his old age. Hanseo and the others expected it already, for since the last weeks, there have been instances in which the Don’s speech would be incomprehensible, a usual symptom for the illness. However, every time they raised the concern to the Godfather, insisting that he should go and see a doctor, even going as far as bringing the doctor themselves in the headquarters, the old man dismissed every single one of their attempts and said that he was doing well.
“We still need to secure the hospital though,” Jeongguk added after. “A lot would take advantage of Grandpop’s state. They’d want to use the excuse of his body failing on its own when they succeed in doing whatever bullshit they’d come up with in trying to get rid of him.”
“That won’t be a problem. We’ve got soldatos there from Inhwan’s regime and Seokjin already talked to the Chief of the Seoul Police Department to make sure it’s handled properly there at the hospital,” Hanseo said. “I’d ask you to send more from your regime, Guk, but let’s not draw too much attention.”
“I agree,” he nodded. “Can I go there now then? I’d like to visit him, see how he’s doing personally,” Jeongguk asked.
“Sure.” Hanseo nodded with a sigh. “Your grandma is already there so look after her too, she must be in shock as well. She always scolded him with the smoking and the drinking all these years that I bet it’s what she’s going to nag about once Pop gains consciousness. Plus, from now on, I’d like it if someone who’s actually part of the Family to be beside Pop’s bed all the time.”
“Okay.” Jeongguk looked at Inhwan. “I’m picking ____ at the firm. I’m going to be bringing her to the hospital too. Is that okay?”
Inhwan always appreciated Jeongguk’s respect for him whenever it came to you. Jeongguk never once made it look like he was unworthy of Inhwan’s trust since the both of you started going out by blatantly using his title as the Don’s grandson to do what he wanted. “You do that,” Inhwan urged.
“When do you plan on proposing to her?” Hanseo suddenly brought up while Jeongguk was heading to the door. “It’s been what? Five years? When are you going to tie the knot?”
Jeongguk glanced at Inhwan the same time Seokjin did, the Consigliere hiding the amused smirk that was beginning to show with a glass of scotch being raised to his lips. “Are you seriously going to bring that up right now, Pop? In front of Inhwan?”
“Oh, don’t mind me,” Inhwan looked teasing, “you know you already have my vote, Guk.”
“I appreciate that but I don’t plan on proposing yet,” Jeongguk said.
“How come? What are you waiting for? ____ already graduated, she’s already doing well in her job. The both of you can start trying to make a family. It won’t be easy to do that in the future, I’m just saying. We’re looking at the worst case scenario here, and you know that if anything happens to Pop, you’ll be my underboss.”
“Not yet,” Jeongguk only reiterated. “And Grandpop’s going to be fine. There’s no need for me to rush into these things.”
“Jeongguk,” it’s Seokjin who spoke next, “you do know that when the Don wakes up, he won’t be the same anymore, right? He’s already having problems with his talking even before this happened; no doubt we’ll have to expect worse for the following days.”
“Propose to ____,” Hanseo said in a more authoritative voice. “Then when Pop wakes up and he’s doing okay—if he doesn’t look as bad as we’re expecting him to be—let’s get you and ____ married. We’ll have the Don attend and then it’ll be shown on the news how the Don still has the strength to attend to one of the momentous occasions in his grandson’s life.”
“So, you want to use an intimate and personal event in my life as a publicity stunt?” Jeongguk scoffed.
“Don’t take it to heart, Guk.” His father frowned. “It’s for the Family.”
“It’s bound to happen sooner or later anyway,” Seokjin added. “You’ve been trying to find a ring, haven’t you?”
“Not really the time to bring that up, Jin.” Jeongguk clenched his jaw, though his annoyed expression quickly faded and he found himself nodding at the end. “But fine, alright. I’ll do it if it’s the way we should go.”
“Great.” Hanseo smiled. “Let’s just pray harder that the old man gets a full recovery then.”
Jeongguk drove to the law firm you were working at with the thought of marriage in his head. It wasn’t like it never hit him that it’s about time that the both of you get wed; Hanseo already pointed out that it’s already been five years, Seokjin already mentioned it too that he’s been finding an engagement ring as well. It’s not like Jeongguk still had his doubts most especially, he was already sure from the moment that the two of you uttered your first I love yous to each other in the past that you were going to be the one and only woman he’ll want to hear that from—no one else.
He was just afraid of pulling you into the Family further. It was inevitable and a given already, as he never once thought of letting you go for the sake of your possible safety. It was selfish and terrible of him but he always thought that if other members of the Family could do it and still keep their wives and children safe, why can’t he? After all, the Mafia might always resort to violence and blackmailing when certain happenings don’t fall in their favor, but as much as possible, they tried to not step over the line and harm a Mafioso’s blood family. Doing so would bring shame to their values and would wage a war between the Four Families as they’d support their member’s want for vengeance and justice. An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.
Jeongguk only hoped that it’ll always remain that way for as long as the two of you lived. He doesn’t think he would take it if something happened to you because of the business he was involved in. It was already bad enough that you’re the only weakness of your father, the only person he cherished now after your mother’s passing; now you’ve managed to become Jeongguk’s apparent weakness too.
He soon arrived at the entrance of your firm’s building. He already texted that he was on his way minutes ago, so he was pleased to see you marching out of the doors quickly once you saw his vehicle, hopping inside the passenger’s side and automatically leaning towards him as you gave him a kiss on the cheek.
“You good?” you asked straight off the bat, a hand on the back of his neck, fingers lightly massaging his nape.
Jeongguk relaxed again at the action and stared at you before being the one to lean towards you this time, kissing you on the mouth, longer and fuller. “I am,” he said as he let go, facing forward. “All thanks to you.”
You snorted while putting on your seatbelt. “Well, I’m glad. I take it that there are no concerning affairs about the Don?”
He only shook his head in confirmation, driving forward. It didn’t take long until you both were at the hospital; Jeongguk was satisfied to see that there were a significant number of men there at the entrance, alert and eyes continuously scanning the area. When they took notice of the Don’s grandson, one of Inhwan’s men, Yoongi who was mentioned earlier and was proven innocent, greeted the two of you and insisted on letting a soldato park the car so you both could head on your way. Jeongguk thanked him and proceeded on grasping your hand, pulling you with him as he followed Yoongi towards the Don’s room.
Jeongguk hardly looked at his grandfather while consoling his grandmother along the side. He never saw Don Jungsoo as helpless as he looked at that moment; the Don has always been a hero in Jeongguk’s eyes; his protector and the person he was sure would never desert him even if worst comes to worst. Even if the doctor in charge of Don Jungsoo already assured and explained to Jeongguk that they’ve already put the necessary meds to stop the blood clot and that they’re also monitoring the Don closely, Jeongguk somehow was still not at peace.
He looked like he was though, that he was calm and composed, thanking the doctor with such politeness the Don would commend him for before Jeongguk added that if his Grandpop comes out of the hospital better and healthier, he’ll put in a word to Hanseo to reward the doctor for the service.
“Do you want me to go out and buy food?” you whispered to Jeongguk as he stared at the television, his face expressionless and making it obvious that whatever was playing in the screen wasn’t capturing his interest; his grandmother already left to eat and get some clothes at the Jeon Residential Area, so it was just Jeongguk and you for the meanwhile until his uncles and cousins would arrive. “Guk?” You placed a hand on his thigh when he didn’t answer.
He dazely turned to you. “Yeah?”
You smiled. “Are you hungry? I can go out and buy food and you can stay here.”
“No, don’t leave.” He shook his head, scooting closer to you on the sofa you were both situated in. “I’m not that hungry yet. Are you?”
“Not that much.”
“Okay.” He held your hand and pulled you towards him with it, just so he could place an arm around your shoulder. “We can just stay here until Uncle comes.”
You gazed at him from the side. “Tell me what’s bothering you, sweetheart,” you murmured as you leaned your head back at his bicep.
He dared to smile. You always had a knack at reading his mind—it’s either that or he’s been visibly bothered for the past minutes for you to finally say something. “Just worried about Grandpop. Hate seeing him like this.”
“Yeah, I know. This sucks.” You pressed your lips together. “Dr. Hwang said he’ll be fine though. He’s already pulling through, all we’re waiting for is when he’ll wake up.”
“I have no doubt that he’ll be fine. I just don’t like waiting. I don’t like this stage—the uncertainty. Until I see his eyes open and have him talking to me, I’ll always feel bothered.”
“We can visit him everyday until that happens. Will that make you feel better about this? I bet it’ll make the Don happy too; he’ll be pleased to know his favorite grandson has always stuck by his side.” You grinned, teasing a little.
“How do you do that?” Jeongguk abruptly blurted and you raised your eyebrows. “How do you make things feel so easy? So light?” It wasn’t the time to act lovey-dovey, especially a few steps away from the Don’s bed, but Jeongguk got reminded of his father’s request to propose to you and marry you soon, and he deemed this second as one of the reasons why having you his wife would be one of the best decisions he’ll ever make if he decides to finally go forth with it.
“I’m made for you like that.” You smirked, squeezing his hand. “I’m your personalized lover.”
Jeongguk laughed. “That’s corny as fuck.”
“Excuse me? I’m trying to lighten the mood here more and you’re going to insult my attempts?” You were already laughing with him though.
“I love you.” He grinned and ducked his head to kiss your nose since your lips were too far from reach. “Always be my angel, okay?”
You dragged yourself higher to do his unfinished task, kissing him on the lips, just an innocent peck. “I’ll stay on your shoulder forever.”
“You better.”
You kissed him again. “I love you too, Guk.”
He sighed in content, petting your head gently while you laid your temple against his chest.
Jeongguk indeed came to the Don’s hospital room everyday after that, staying longer than you could as you had a job to maintain, keeping himself updated first hand about any news about his grandpop’s health. For days he sat at the farthest side of the sofa while various visitors offered their wishes of recovery to Don Jungsoo, holding the old man’s hand and kissing it, crying on it even as if to show how sincere they were, praying profusely for his fast recuperation. Sometimes they’d offer their wishes to Jeongguk or to Hanseo when the latter was present too.
Finally after nine days, the Don opened his eyes and Jeongguk was there to witness it happen, immediately jumping out of his seat and pressing the nurse call button as per protocol right after.
The Don looked at him, his old and misty eyes staring at Jeongguk. “Hanseo?” he said and even with the error, Jeongguk still smiled.
“It’s Jeongguk, Grandpop. It’s me. I’m here.”
“Jeongguk,” Don Jungsoo repeated, slowly recognizing him. “Jeongguk, my golden boy.”
Dr. Hwang and the nurses swarmed inside the room quickly and soon enough, the other members of the Family were already there too, having just gotten the news thanks to Jeongguk who called his father as soon as the medical staff were taking care of the Don. Even you managed to arrive at the hospital upon Jeongguk’s text swiftly, entering the VIP room with Inhwan and approaching Don Jungsoo alongside your father, the old man offering you a tired yet pleased smile as your gazes connected and you bowed in respect.
You stayed with Jeongguk for another two hours before one of Jeongguk’s uncles convinced him that he should go home, take a nice shower, and rest while they take their turn in looking out for the Don. Jeongguk agreed and obviously asked if you could come home with him, which you nodded to, said your farewells to the Don, and then fled with Jeongguk to go to their home at the Jeon Residential Area. Once there, you stayed in his room as he took a nice bath, sprawled your body on his bed and waited until he was done so you could ask what he wanted for dinner.
He came out of the bathroom just as you were talking with a fellow associate at the law firm on the phone. You ended the call shortly at his return and smiled at him; Jeongguk went to his wardrobe to pick out some clothes, wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist that you would have been fazed about if it wasn’t an already common sight to see. Nonetheless, it was still a sight that you were happy to be blessed with, your eyes trailing to the curve of his tattoo-filled arms, his defined chest and abs, right over to his muscular back that Jeongguk noticed you were truly ogling at when he glanced at your direction.
“You’re drooling, angel.” He smirked and you flickered your stare back to his eyes. “You like what you see?”
“Don’t I always?” You let out a huge breath, Jeongguk grinning and walking to your spot on the bed.
He leaned down, tilting his head to the side and pressed his mouth against yours. You ultimately melted at his touch and your insides easily squirmed in desire with that one gesture. Jeongguk felt the same way, felt the same impulse to go where this was headed faster. Being the patient and considerate man he always was however, he waited until you made the second move, the move that will reassure him that you wanted it as much as he did, and the instance you tugged his towel downwards that caused it to fall down, he didn’t waste time in pushing you forward so that you’d lay on the bed and under him.
The Jeon Family was still a little old-fashioned sometimes because of Don Jungsoo; the Don still expressed his disapproval of premarital sex whenever the subject rose as he’s a firm believer that a woman should be kept pure before the night of the wedding. It was an ironic principle by the Don really, as he still condoned the organization protecting one of the largest strip joints in the city and subsequently caved into the business of prostitution as well. Perhaps it was just a value he wanted to keep within the family—a value that Jeongguk has honestly not been able to keep with you.
It was foreseeable though as you and Jeongguk were in your prime, only in your late 20s, still considerably young; the both of you were also a good looking pair and a very smitten one too. It simply would be impossible to think that nothing happened at least once in the five years you’ve been a couple. If that was the case, people would have to commend you two for the self-control and the dedication to keep the Don’s virtues within yourselves as well.
For the past week, Jeongguk has been longing to have you this near him. He’s been too preoccupied with his grandpop’s condition and what’s been going on in the business too that he hasn’t indulged himself in anything that could keep his mind away from it. With the Don unable to lead, it was Hanseo who acted as the boss of the Jeon Family; whether a lot approved of it or reckoned Hanseo as a great successor so far, Jeongguk wasn’t sure. He didn’t want to hear anything that would cause unnecessary anger and stress on his part, so he chose not to hear the opinions of others about it. He only knew that Seokjin argued a lot with Hanseo just to put his father in the right mindset.
It’s obvious that Jeongguk has indeed been craving this with the harsh slams of his hips against your thighs as he spreads you further. It’s been seconds since he triggered an orgasm from you after eating you out like a starved man, shoving two fingers in and out of you rapidly as well, intent on making you come and get you prepped for him as fast as he could for he truly has been too eager to feel you around him again. Two weeks of not getting to make love with you was too much of a long time for Jeongguk to put it plainly.
“You wasted your shower,” you moaned as he lifted a leg of yours over his shoulder, your intention to tease apparent even if you were already being railed deliciously.
“I can just take another one. With you.”
You felt the pit of your stomach beginning to knot once more in pleasure and Jeongguk grunted as you squeezed him tighter. He dropped your leg and fell forward, latching his mouth around a nipple while a free hand groped your other breast. You gripped the hair at the back of his head, tugging its strands firmly, prompting a louder grunt from Jeongguk that sounded more of a growl than any other sound he has made and he let your nipple go to return to your mouth.
“Fuck—” you cursed with a hiss— “I’m gonna come again.” You whined.
“Touch yourself for me,” he softly ordered.
You followed his command and reached down to strum your clit hastily, Jeongguk pounding his cock inside your cunt in a sloppier manner. He too was close and was already aiming to take the both of you to your highs without any more delay. In a few more thrusts, more dirty whispers on your ear as he coaxed you to come again—to milk him dry and to let yourself go—your second orgasm rippled through you greatly; your loud noises of ecstacy probably being heard beyond the four walls of Jeongguk’s bedroom that he covered your mouth with his own to not let anyone near catch it. He might be delighted to let anyone know you were being treated well in the bedroom, but he still valued your want of privacy.
“Can I come inside?” He’s heaving, sweat running down his temple and chest. “Please? Please let me come inside your pretty pussy.” Jeongguk was whining at that point, dragging every bit of his control to not blow his load just yet.
You nodded, eyes closed, muttered yes over and over again, and with your permission, Jeongguk came inside you like stated. He groaned against your neck, forehead crushing the pillow by your head, his sweet moans eliciting goosebumps to rise on your skin. He gave you a couple of slow thrusts and then pulled out, kneeling on the mattress between your legs to stare at his cum seeping down your cunt. He grinned, stroking the tip along your folds in satisfaction, pushing two fingers in to keep his load in it, and when he was done, he crawled to your side, gently hauling you to his chest.
You ran your palm on his opposite shoulder and squeezed it while your cheek rested on its twin. “I’m tired.”
“You can take a nap,” he whispered, planting kisses on your forehead and hair, anywhere his lips could touch.
“I feel icky down there.”
He laughed and you pushed yourself up to glare at him playfully. Jeongguk remained grinning; he cupped your face and kissed you on the lips again. Soon you were on your back like earlier and he was hovering over you, the both of you making out. “Angel,” he mumbled, the endearment he loved using the most because of his reasoning that you were one of those heavenly creatures yourself, rang in your head in a more loving way, and you clung yourself against him closer, “you’ll marry me if I asked, right?”
You released his lips, pushing his face away, your thoughts returning to earth at his out of the blue inquiry. “What?”
“Marry me,” he said with more conviction, his eyes staring through yours. “I’ll make you the happiest woman alive.”
You chuckled. “I already am.”
“Then make me the happiest man alive by saying yes.”
“Guk—”
“I love you. You love me. We’ve been loving each other since forever. Why don’t we officiate it?”
“Is this your ‘I just got laid and I feel high’ brain speaking?”
“____…” he called you by your name, a rather rare occurrence if it’s just the two of you than most people would think; you understood then that he was really being serious, “I want to marry you.”
You gazed at him, your hand pushing his hair back away from his face. You appeared amazed, like you were waiting for the punch line of his joke or for him to generally just take his words back—but it never came, Jeongguk just remained staring at you, waiting for you to answer, and with a shaky exhale after realizing he was for real, you nodded. “Okay. Propose to me then.”
He kissed you; he placed his lips close to your ear; he murmured and confessed his love to you all over again. You smiled all throughout, your heartbeat beating fast and your eyes welling up as you listened to him recount dozens of memories with you, memories that you weren’t even aware he remembered up until that moment. As his finale, he asked you again if you would do the honor of marrying him, to make him the happiest man alive, though barely finishing his sentence, he abruptly propelled himself up from his position and rummaged for something in the bedside table at your left, and when he let you see what he stole from the drawer’s contents, it was a red box.
“Have you always had that right there?” you exclaimed, amused.
“No, just last night. I was beating myself up for not being able to think of a creative way of proposing soon and I might have shoved this ring too hard inside the drawer.”
You chuckled. “You’re unbelievable, Guk. You’re naked and you’re proposing and now you’re telling me you’ve endangered my supposed engagement ring?”
He ignored your teasing, acknowledging it only with a grin. “Will you marry me?” he finished his propal and opened the box; as expected of Jeongguk’s superior taste, the diamond ring that was placed in the center was so gorgeous you widened your eyes in astonishment.
You stared at the ring longer and looked up at him; you tipped your head to the side for effect and gestured to him to come closer. He did with a roll of his eyes, setting his head near yours and you hooked your arm around his neck, pulling him lower before whispering too in his ear. “Yes.”
What happened next was consisted of childlike giggling, Jeongguk pushing the ring on your ring finger, Jeongguk tackling you in an embrace, the both of you telling each other “I love you so much” until the phrase wore out, and then the inevitable love making for the second time that evening that also came to be more heartfelt than the last one—one that Jeongguk automatically added to his long list of unforgettable memories with you, his soon-to-be wife.
━ CHAPTER IV.
You didn’t want anything too flashy, that’s what you made clear. You wanted the wedding ceremony to only be attended by close friends and family; you wanted it to be intimate and personal as a wedding you thought should be. And although Jeongguk agreed and understood your point when you told him that, he expressed early on too that it was not going to be easy to make it happen for the sole reason that the person you were marrying was the grandson of the great Don Jungsoo—meaning that flashy and well-publicized would be the adjectives that would describe your wedding with him and not intimate and personal.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized sincerely right across from you on the table; the two of you were having lunch in some fancy restaurant near your law firm, the topic of wedding plans arising while you ate. “I wish I could say that I can just go ahead and tell Grandpop that I’d like to keep our wedding private, but you know how he is. You know how this family is.”
For the last few weeks, the Don’s health has been better. There were still risks, of course; he wasn’t magically cured from all illnesses just because he woke up and recovered. He was still an old man after all, and ever since the incident happened to him, his speech has notably become incomprehensible at times; a part of his face also slightly drooped, though you wouldn’t really notice it unless you’ve been staring at the Godfather your whole life and was sensitive to changes like that. As for his body though, he became thinner and in every step he took, looked like he grew heavier too. However, in regards to Don Jungsoo’s wisdom and ability to share intelligent thoughts, it was still gratefully there, just shared in a fashion that was a bit slower than before and perhaps harder to understand.
“Yeah, I get it,” you said. “What if we just elope and get married at some place like Vegas instead?” You were clearly joking. You showed it in the small upward curve of the other end of your lips, but you knew that Jeongguk sensed that there was still some genuinity hidden behind your light guise. “I’m kidding,” you added for a quick measure.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated.
“Don’t apologize, sweetheart. There’s no reason for you to do so.”
“It’s just that I think I’m depriving you of spending our wedding day the way you want it. Haven’t you dreamed about something like this when you were young?”
“I did. I forgot about it eventually too. It’s not a big deal.”
“It’ll be a big deal to me if my beautiful bride won’t be happy on our special day.”
“Keep up the flattery and I’ll assure you that your beautiful bride will be happy.” You chuckled.
“Okay, how about this—” Jeongguk reached out and grasped your hand— “you do everything you want for the wedding and I won’t object. You can pick the theme, the food, the cake—everything. The only thing I’ll be having control over is the extra guesses for the ceremony and reception.”
“Guk, come on, I won’t deprive you like that. This is your wedding too.”
“I just want it to be memorable and have it the way you want, angel.”
“As long as you’re the one I’m saying I do too—it’ll be memorable and be exactly like I dreamed of. Don’t worry.”
Jeongguk grinned. “You mean that?”
“Would I have said yes if I didn’t?”
He chuckled and brought your knuckles to his lips, smooching it loudly in a playful yet sweet way.
Two months after that, you had your engagement party at the villa. Your home was big enough to accomodate people and it was a good thing that at least in that event, you had only spent it with your close loved ones and not anyone who wanted to suck up to your groom and steal him throughout the whole event, perhaps drowning him in unnecessary praises and ego boosts to get a good word from Jeongguk to Don Jungsoo. It was Jeongguk’s promise that he would ask the Don to keep the engagement party as exclusive as what you wanted, and indeed it is what happened.
There were people from your law firm, friends from college and from law school, and as for Jeongguk’s peers, he invited only a small number of people he knew; he told you they were mostly family friends, some college friends too, and close relatives. Your father, Inhwan, couldn’t help but invite his own set of guests, mostly people he knew through the Don. Of course, that only meant that the Don and his wife were also present in the event, along with Jeongguk’s parents, Hanseo and Yeonjin, and Seokjin with his wife as well.
A lot of people gawked and praised your diamond engagement ring, gushing how it looked dashing on your beautiful hand and how Jeongguk must have really gone all the way to buy it for you. In the moments your fiancé heard such admiration, he, who was standing beside you all day, smiled and squeezed your waist, glancing at you before declaring that it’s because you only deserve the best every single time. Ladies shared meaningful looks of envy with each other and teased you for being so lucky; gentlemen whistled in hilarity and gave Jeongguk playful pushes. Anybody with two eyes saw how you both shared great love and respect for one another, that it was always either admirable or gut-wrenching (in a good way).
“Are you ready to be part of the family?” Seokjin suddenly popped beside you and handed you a champagne flute. Jeongguk just left to go to the bathroom and unbeknownst to you, had asked Seokjin to take his place for a while until he came back.
You thanked him. “Is that question some kind of test?”
“Yep. If you say the wrong answer, I get to claim that fancy ring as my prize.” He nodded at your hand where the ring glimmered in the hanging lights. “I think I can support my family with that for over a couple of years.”
You snickered at his sarcasm.
While you were growing up, you have always admittedly been closer to Seokjin than you were with Jeongguk. Before your fiancé officially entered your life and claimed what would soon be his permanent place, it was Seokjin who you frequently saw and hung around with. The two of you had a similar sense of humor that you found clear connection in; he was and acted like an older brother you never had—in Jeongguk’s case, he already was an adoptive brother of the young man for since the death of Seokjin’s parents when he was in high school, Hanseo, who was his godfather, took him in the family. Inhwan was there to fend for him too, hence why you two became close, however, there was a period in your friendship wherein it faded out a little when he went to the States to pursue his baccalaureate and Juris Doctor degree, a path that you too was supposed to take as an aspiring lawyer yourself but with your father having no one close to real family if you did, you opted to stay.
“Is it odd that I’m a little nervous about it?” you asked him after a few seconds of silence. “Like, me and Guk have been together for so long, and I know his family likes me, but why do I still feel like they might change their mind when we get married?”
“As in Yeonjin becomes an evil mother-in-law?” He smirked and you gave him a look at the question. “Your worries are pointless, really. You know they already adore you. Hell, even the Don loves you and that’s an achievement of its own. You don’t have anything to be troubled about, ____.”
“The Don loves everyone.” You sipped on your flute.
“He loves everyone who his family loves,” he corrected. “To others he’s just kind and generous.”
You scrunched your forehead together and stared then at the Don who sat on a table far from yours. He was talking to Hanseo and Inhwan, a rather somber expression on his face; his mouth moved in a slow and steady bearing. You’ve thanked him earlier for going still despite his obvious declining health. He was still able to do things on his own and appear like he has always been, but being one to know what’s really going on behind the glamour of Don Jungsoo, you were aware that his first case of having a stroke took its toll on him; a fact that you noticed the Jeon Family has been trying to conceal.
“Seokjin, can you be honest with me?” you suddenly began.
He glanced at you. “About what?”
“The reason why your family insists on having the wedding as soon as possible.” You turned to him. “It’s because of Don Jungsoo’s condition, isn’t it?”
“Why do you say that?”
“Just an observation.” You shrugged nonchalantly.
Seokjin raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you think questions like that ought to be asked to Jeongguk instead?”
“I already did.”
“And what did he tell you?”
“He said that he wants his grandfather to be present and healthy on the special day, that’s why we should get married as soon as possible.”
“Then that’s the reason.”
“That’s a reason,” you said. “I have a feeling there’s more.”
Seokjin stared at you and brought the rim of his champagne on his lips. “You’re a smart girl, princess,” he replied. “And because of that, I’m sure you’ll figure it out on your own.”
You dared to snort in amusement. You knew that Seokjin was another one who didn’t budge, but it was still worth the shot.
You wanted to be let in with whatever has been happening since the Don’s mishap as you didn’t think that the way they reacted was how a normal family would when the head of your clan just suffered from a stroke. They were still sympathetic, of course, overly concerned about the health of the Don, however you had felt the tension that rose within the Jeon Family in the days that Don Jungsoo remained lying unconscious on his hospital bed. You saw how troubled Jeongguk was, even saw your father look visibly stressed, though what you had found most peculiar were the way outsiders were reacting to the news of the Don falling ill. They were taking every opportunity to bring down his name and his family—referring to him with titles such as ‘mob boss’ and ‘king of the underworld’ that it was impossible for you not to be curious.
“What did I miss?” Jeongguk returned to your place with raised eyebrows. “What’s with the serious faces?”
“I was welcoming ____ to the family,” Seokjin told him.
You decided to play along. His disregard of the last conversation probably meant he wasn’t keen on talking about it again. “More like threatening me. He wants to steal my ring.” You laughed at the same time Seokjin did when he heard you.
“I’m going to see this more often, aren’t I?” Jeongguk’s arm snaked around your waist while his eyes moved back and forth between you two. “The both of you just constantly ganging up on me with inside jokes or whatever?”
“Maybe. That’s what makes ____ the best sister-in-law, though.”
“The only sister-in-law actually.” You snickered. Seokjin clinked his glass with yours.
After the engagement party took place, came the rapid planning for the wedding. Don Jungsoo was ever so kind to pledge that all expenses for the ceremony and the reception were to be paid by him, an offer that you wanted to reject for even though you appreciated his kindness with all of your heart, you didn’t want to burden him and take advantage of it in that kind of extent. Jeongguk convinced you not to do so and just go along with it though; he said that The Don gained happiness by doing favors like that to his loved ones, especially to his favorite grandson, as he proudly claimed. Jeongguk insisted that it would bring great satisfaction to his Grandpop to know that he made a huge contribution to an important event of both of your lives.
So, you agreed, and in five months’ time, the wedding ceremony commenced and with just a blink of an eye, you found yourself being a true married woman to Jeon Jeongguk. You vowed to love him endlessly and to always be by his side in a cathedral that fit hundreds of people, people who you either knew well or have never met in your whole life. But you found yourself not caring as much with the amount of individuals present like you initially did. All you cared about was how handsome Jeongguk looked in his midnight blue tuxedo and his hair styled in a fashion that had one side slicked back and the other had some strands falling on his forehead, his big and boyish grin that he displayed right after when he shed some tears as he saw you walk down the aisle, his promises of devotion to you from that point forward, and especially the strength and earnestness of his kiss when the priest finally said “You may now kiss the bride”.
“I love you,” he whispered to you as he leaned back, his face only centimeters away, those words the only thing processing in your head while the crowd clapped and cheered
You grinned, kissing him more. “And I love you.”
The reception was held in one of the Don’s owned properties, a spacious mansion that no doubt was able to cater the hundreds of guests present. It was decorated in line with yours and Jeongguk’s chosen theme for the reception which was rustic, fitting the also rustic architecture of the venue. There were dark wooden chairs and tables covered only partially with white linen tablecloth; hand-tied bouquets and florals with greenery on baskets at some parts of the walls; antique ornaments and lights hanging on the ceiling; and the ambiance of the place was simply just the way you both wanted, delighting you two when you first arrived.
You slightly grew self-conscious with the amount of guests again when the host introduced you and Jeongguk as a married couple. You scanned the audience and saw a lot of familiar faces—and they were familiar not because you knew them personally, but because you have seen them on TV or in a newspaper once. You were aware that the Don had a lot of friends from the entertainment industry too, but you didn’t think that some of them would actually be close enough with the Don to be invited to the wedding.
“Just say the magic word and I’ll bail us out,” Jeongguk said against your ear while a distant relative of his sang in the center of the hall. The fun games were over and the program was going towards its end, the only thing left were the warm messages and the performances that your loved ones prepared for the special day.
You turned to him and chuckled. “First of all, I have no idea of this magic word that you’re talking about. Second of all—that eager to get me alone, huh?”
His eyes glinted.
You two made a pack since your engagement party that you would not partake in any sexual acts (the most would only be making out or groping if the libido was too tough to handle) before the wedding to make the night of the honeymoon more awaited for. It wasn’t even that long, to be frank (okay, maybe it was—five months was a considerable long time) but it was the longest in a while that you haven’t had sex since you started doing such act with him. Jeongguk was okay with the idea and agreed that it’ll make the wedding night more worth the wait.
However, earlier at the room where the both of you changed into different clothes for the reception, Jeongguk had kissed you and you kissed him back with the same flaring passion he was showing, prompting an unplanned heavy make out session that also brought a palm of his on one of your ass cheeks, your husband squeezing it and groaning, murmuring how he couldn’t wait until later to have you again. You jokingly slapped it away and told him to be more patient, which he groaned louder for and kissed you one last time before finishing on dressing up.
“You’ve been driving me crazy all day,” he continued, still whispering close to your ear. “You looked so gorgeous in the wedding dress—and now look at you right now, angel. You’re really giving me the impression that you truly are a gift from the heavens.”
You smiled. You were wearing a more daring attire for the reception, a lace maxi dress with a straight neckline and thin shoulder straps; it had a slit on the right side just above your knee as well, but it wasn’t that aspect of the dress that made it daring, it was the fact it completely exposed your back from behind and only had strings tied across its ends to make it appear not completely backless.
“You can take it off for me later,” you told him with a smirk.
Jeongguk huffed at that. “Don’t plant the idea in my head or I’m going to have a boner all night.”
“Well, it’s only fair. Do you think I’m fine with your chest practically in my face?” you retorted, and in cue, flickered your gaze down to his chest where the polo he was wearing had three buttons opened, giving anyone the view of his impressive pecs.
He seemed pleased that you noticed it. “You’re more than welcome to take it off for me too.”
“I’ll rip it off you, sweetheart.” You chuckled and pecked the corner of his mouth. He hummed and placed a cheeky hand on your upper thigh at the action, and when your eyes followed where his hand was travelling, you automatically lowered it down to your knee. “Guk.”
“Okay, okay,” he frowned and faced his palm up, an invitation for you to intertwine it with his and you accepted the offer, “I’ll behave.”
For the rest of the night, after the special performances by good friends and family, the reception felt like a campaign and Jeongguk was the candidate as it neared its conclusion. Acquaintances and business partners talked and congratulated him—they congratulated you too, of course, but you sensed that it was only mere politeness that made them do so. Their real target was still the Don’s grandson and having the chance to butter him up for the sake of getting on the good side of Don Jungsoo. In fact, you think that Don Jungsoo was perhaps more acknowledged than you throughout the evening as you recalled the amount of men that went to his table and shook his hand in eagerness for the duration of the function.
“Really, Dad? You’re going to cry at this last moment?” you teased your father; his expression was solemn and he had his lips pursed as you bid him your farewells to go to the airport where you’ll be flying to Jeju Island for the honeymoon. He didn’t cry when he handed you to Jeongguk at the cathedral, or shed a tear when you shared your father-daughter dance at the reception, but now it looked like his tear ducts were finally surrendering in defeat.
“I’m not crying,” he denied, though his hug was tight when you embraced him. “You take care of yourself, okay?”
“I’m still coming back after two weeks, you know.”
“Yeah, I know, kiddo.” He pulled back and kissed you on the forehead, holding you out within arm’s length to gaze at you fondly. “I guess I’m a little overreacting. Imagine if your mom was still here.”
“No doubt there’ll be waterfalls coming from her eyes.” You joked. One of the fond memories you had of your late mother was how easy it was to trigger a tear from her.
“Inhwan,” Jeongguk just finished instructing some men to help with the luggages so he decided to join the two of you, “or is it Dad too from now on?”
Inhwan laughed lightly as the young man stood beside you. “Sure, why not? You’re officially my son-in-law now anyways.”
Jeongguk gestured for a hug and Inhwan complied. He patted Inhwan’s back and said with a soft voice, “Don’t worry, I’ll do everything I can to always make ____ happy. She’s safe with me.”
“I know you will.” Inhwan grasped his shoulder when they both leaned away. “That’s why I like you so much, Guk. You’re a good one, you take care of my kid well.” They shared a smile.
While they continued to talk, you approached Hanseo, Yeonjin, and Jeongguk’s grandmother. You told them your thanks again for being part of the momentous occasion and for helping in making it happen in the way you wanted. Hanseo told you that it was no problem; Yeonjin kissed your cheek and said she was happy to finally have a daughter herself; Jeongguk’s grandmother embraced you and gave your cheek a kiss as well, saying there that she should begin passing on famous recipes in the Jeon household to you. Next, you moved to the Don who was just about to go ahead and sit at the backseat of his designated vehicle, but upon seeing you walk to him, stopped and waited until you two were finally standing face to face.
“Thank you so much for everything today, Don Jungsoo,” you said, bowing to show your respect. Even though the Don has been nothing but kind and goodhearted to you in the past years you have known him, you were still cautious whenever you interacted with the old man for the reason that is you were still intimidated by his presence and the powerful aura he gave off. “I appreciate it so much, truly, I don’t think I can ever thank you enough for being so generous.”
“You’re part of the family now, ____,” he clasped a hand of yours between his and tapped it gently, “so please feel comfortable to call me as Jeongguk would. It is I who should be thanking you for being there for my grandson no matter how difficult that boy can be. Everything I’ve done is nothing compared to the joy you’ve given him amidst the hardships he goes through everyday.”
“Oh, it comes both ways, I assure you. Jeongguk was clearly raised well for him to be this wonderful.”
“I hope that stays for a long time then—you and Jeongguk respecting and loving each other. One thing I’m sure in this withered life of mine is that loyalty plays a huge part in how events play out. The best investment you can ever have in your life is a good partner to spend it with.” He gave your hand another pat and then he let go. “Tell me if Jeongguk ever gives you a hard time and I’ll teach him a lesson.”
“That’s impossible, Grandpop.” Jeongguk walked from behind you and hugged his grandfather goodbye. “I don’t think you've noticed but ____ clearly has the pants in this relationship.”
They laughed, the Don’s laughter coming out as a wheeze though the smile on his face was unmistakably and genuinely amused. He said his final farewells to you two and you told him yours, saying too that you hope for him to keep on getting better that the Don appreciably smiled at and said his thanks. You watched as the vehicle he was in drove away, two more following closely behind as another led the path, placing the car where Don Jungsoo was in the middle.
“Ready to go?” Jeongguk asked when it was just you two there.
You smiled at him. “Yeah.”
You arrived at Jeju Island at about 10:56 PM that night. Out of all the places you could have gone to, you and him decided that Jeju Island was the one to go for the honeymoon because it was the same place where you celebrated your first anniversary in the past. Besides, you two didn’t want to go to another beautiful country and exhaust yourselves more with the travel time and all the arrangements you’d have to do for the location you’d be staying in for two weeks. The hotel you’ll be residing in was sponsored yet again by Jeongguk’s family.
“I hope you’re not too tired.” Jeongguk smirked at you while you both walked out of the elevator to head to the suite you were going to settle in for the mini vacation.
You glanced at him and smirked back; your hands were intertwined and you were swaying it back and forth childishly. “Me? Of course not.”
“You sure?”
“One hundred percent. How about you?”
“You really want to ask that?” He was looking at you differently now, eyes shaping themselves in a manner that you were all too familiar with.
“Well, I’m asking you because I’m just hoping you won’t sleep on me. I know we haven’t gotten proper action in months for you to miss this opportunity but let’s be real—when you’re tired, you’re tired.”
“I swear, I’m not.” He chuckled and paused with you as you arrived by the door. “I’m too pumped for me to be and indeed miss this opportunity.” He brought out the keycard, pressed it against the intended spot, and you heard the lock disengage with an audible click
At the sound of that, you began to get jitters. It was another one of those funny things you’ve been experiencing with anything related to Jeongguk since the engagement—that even though you’ve been with him practically half of your life and was one of the people you could be your absolute self and be assured you won’t be judge—you were starting to feel awkward and shy at times, such as this moment right here where even though Jeongguk had already kept the keycard back in his pocket and had opened the door to welcome yourselves to the room, you were frozen on where you stood, your feet seemingly stuck.
He appeared to have sensed your sudden showcase of reluctance for he abruptly faced you, his hands going on your bare arms as he smiled. “Let’s go?” He tilted his head towards the suite. Your luggages were already there, placed kindly by the hotel staff while you and Jeongguk were finalizing some papers at the lobby.
You shook every feeling of wariness away and nodded. At the gesture, Jeongguk’s smile widened into a grin and as fast as he could, he scooped you in his arms in what popular media would call ‘bridal style’, emitting a surprised yelp from you though you prevented your mouth from producing more noise by covering it with a hand while he walked further inside the room, kicking the door close behind him.
“Guk!” You laughed and he did too, face getting closer to yours until he captured your lips successfully.
You reciprocated as soon as you felt him kiss you, your arms being thrown around his neck so you could support yourself better. Jeongguk laid you down on the bed and you realized that rose petals were on them when your back hit the mattress, your eyes opening and spinning down to check if what you were thinking of were true and true enough, there they were. You had to make a mental note to thank the owner of the hotel for being accommodating enough to do the effort of creating a romantic atmosphere; they might do this as a standard for newly-weds, but the owner was a good friend of Hanseo’s so you wanted to express your gratitude personally.
“You said I could take this off, right?” Jeongguk ran his hands on the sides of your dress and you nodded.
He moved his mouth to your throat and kicked off with what he’s been yearning to do for those whole five months of not getting the proper taste of you. Despite the longing and the anticipation though, Jeongguk didn’t act rashly; instead he did anything rather excruciatingly slow—the way his lips moved against yours, how he untied the straps that enabled your dress to stay together, the manner in which he removed it from your body, planting wet kisses on your skin where the fabric of your dress previously glided on… fucking hell, you didn’t know whether you were trembling already because of his obvious unhurriedness or because you knew where his ministrations were going to take you.
“So pretty,” he breathed out raggedly as he squeezed your breasts. You were completely undressed before him as he intended, the only thing left was your white laced underwear that you wore to match the dress. “I think I’m going to nut by this sight of you alone, angel.”
You dared to chuckle. “Is it my turn to rip your polo off now?” Your hands were fondling the collar of his top.
“Be my guest.” He smirked.
Unlike him, you were swift in unbuttoning his long-sleeved polo, hastily pushing it past his shoulders to slide it off his arms. In the approximately ten seconds you did that, you kept on kissing him, sucking lightly on his lower lip, Jeongguk helping you in discarding the material away from his body as well. When that was done, he surged forward, laying over you on the bed, and you quickly carried on with removing his pants, briskly unbuckling his belt and unzipping it to grant you the freedom to tug it down his thighs.
As he pressed his body against you, you ultimately felt his hardness on your stomach, a sensation that you groan at, your insides tingling. You instinctively reached down and grabbed his cock over his boxers to feel it more, massaging and groping it, just the way he liked and what Jeongguk responded to by nibbling your jaw harshly. “Fuck,” he moaned before uttering a warning, “not too fast, not too fast.”
“Want you,” you pant, ignoring his protest, your palm not slowing down, “right now, Guk. Want your dick in my mouth.”
“Yeah?” He grunted, disposing of his boxers and flinging it off his feet. “Does my pretty wife want her mouth fucked first?”
You grinned at the title. It made your pussy clench into nothing. “Yes.”
He gnawed at your jaw before leaning back. “Scoot higher for me.” He instructed and you followed, backing up on the bed until you stopped at the pillows by the head. There were still petals all over the sheets that you had to flick them away with the back of your hand.
Jeongguk trailed his kisses from your knees up to your inner thighs, hands sensually caressing your sides then your breasts. He always had a thing for your tits; he received pleasure from just seeing them cupped by his hands, loved it when it jiggled when he fucked you hard—the image of that alone popping in his head making him harder. Without delay then, he proceeded on going forth with your request, Jeongguk kneeling over you, both of his knees on either side of your shoulders, the tip of cock on your chin.
There was precum leaking on it, a sight that you salivated at. Jeongguk gave his shaft a few strokes, teasing you by gliding the end of his dick on your lips. “Shit,” he groaned when he indulged himself in finally pushing his cock inside your mouth, “that feels so good already, angel. Just like that—I missed that mouth.”
His thrusts were relaxed. He didn’t really want to rush. He gently ran his fingers through your hair and pushed all loose strands away, wanting to get a clear view of your face. You had your eyes closed and you were bobbing your head voluntarily to meet each thrust of his hips. At one instance, you let the tip reach the farthest it could go and you gagged a little, pulling back with a heavy gasp. Jeongguk stretched behind him and touched your clothed heat, feeling how soaked it already was and how just a light press brought a lengthy moan out of you.
“Fuck, fuck.” He cursed as he fucked your mouth faster, your hand palming his balls, though upon the last minute, once his cock was starting to pulsate and his balls were tightening, he pulled back.
You exhaled, some saliva connecting your lips and his cock, and Jeongguk kissed your mouth sloppily before he slithered down to stop right in front of your cunt, working faster now as he pulled your underwear off and dived right in between your legs, sucking and slurping on your clit with a profound determination. His groans and grunts added to the pleasure—you loved hearing him get so into the act of whatever it was that he was doing to drive you crazy—craved it at times even, his sweet sounds even staying in your mind after you were both done. Jeongguk spreaded your lips and spat right on them and went back in, growling.
“So sweet. I’ve been dreaming about tasting this pussy again,” he said, two fingers rubbing it as his tongue licked your clit. “I could drink you up all night.” He inserted the fingers right in your hole and you mewled, arching your back slightly at the movement, moreso as he rapidly pushed it in and out, all the while still sucking your bundle of nerves. It felt like it was going on forever; everything was so good and your toes were curling already in anticipation. He switched between fucking you with his digits and his tongue, your walls welcoming the muscle every time and giving him something to taste.
“Ah—holy shit, I’m close—” you grabbed a fistful of his hair— “fucking hell—I’m going to come.”
The usual thing that Jeongguk would have done was keep up with his speed until you were coming on his face, your juices right on his mouth, his chin, just everywhere—but he stopped, for he had already thought that if there was anywhere you would be coming on for the first time in the last five months, it was going to be on his cock. And so he pulled away and hauled you closer by dragging you towards him roughly with your thighs. You gasped at the sudden showcase of strength, Jeongguk dropping back over you to devour your breasts.
His shaft was pressing against your heat, so near that it was causing you to be more impatient. Jeongguk nibbled a bud and squeezed the other, noisy and so fucking erotic it was sending you off to another space. You couldn’t take it anymore; you tried rubbing your folds together on his dick.
“Fuck me, Guk—please, please,” you begged and cried. “I can’t—I wanna feel you so bad now.”
He stopped paying attention to your tits and looked up, his hair messy and his eyes completely dazed. He brought himself higher so your faces were in level and kissed you; you still tasted what’s left of you in his mouth. “You want my cock inside your pussy?” he asked.
You nodded hastily. “Want it, please.”
“Really? How much?”
“So fucking much.”
“Is that the best thing you could do?” His fingers wrapped itself on your jaw and he tightened his grip. It didn’t hurt, just made you steady—made you pay more attention to reality; he knew you liked it. “Beg harder for it, angel,” he said, looking straight in your eyes now.
You whined. “Please, please, please—I want it.” You marveled his chest, your palms appreciably massaging his pecs. “I want you to fuck me hard—want you to come in my pussy, fill me up so fucking good.”
“Yeah?” His fingers moved to your throat as he leaned back. “You want me to knock you up on our wedding night?”
“Jeongguk—please—fuck me, please.”
He dared to chuckle at the desperation. “Well, who am I to deprive my wife of what she wants, hmm?” He began to align his dick on your entrance. It’s been too long since his manhood was directly on your heat that even he shudders at the contact. “My beautiful wife deserves to be fucked good, doesn’t she?” It was obvious how the fondness of calling you his wife was already planted within him in the not even 24 hours of being married.
You were definitely not thinking straight anymore as he pushed it in. “Yes, yes, yes—” you moaned the words out in a chant, the stretch his cock does to your cunt compelling a louder cry from you in pleasure.
Jeongguk too was desperate. He fucked you fast and hard straight off which your slickness allowed him to do so without difficulty. His fingers that remained on your throat tightened in just the right amount, choking you in just the right way as he kept himself at a distance while he hovered over you. Jeongguk has always been a mix of aggressive and loving when it came to bed; it was either he was too aggressive or excessively loving, both that you didn’t have any complaints about. At the end of each ‘session’, he always satisfied you nonetheless and made you feel absolutely amazing—you never had one encounter with him that had you dismayed or upset after.
You were really getting close the more he rocked against you. You weren’t one too hard to be pleased—to trigger an orgasm from—especially if it’s Jeongguk we were talking about here, and given the five-month long of abstinence from sex to make this first night of the honeymoon extra worthwhile, you were too sensitive to hold back and control yourself from coming already. Jeongguk of course sensed that you were close, he groaned and growled whenever you clenched around his cock, your warm walls bringing him to the edge alongside you.
“You gonna come, angel?” He let go of your throat and was spreading your legs further, pushing and bending you forward. “Gonna come for me?”
You nodded, unable to speak, and he gave you one last hard kiss before he paused in working his hips to start lifting you up, erupting another whine from you for you were already there at the very last second when he did so, though you tried to make yourself as light as possible as he sat and made you sit on him, his cock not leaving your cunt. You got the hint and attached your mouth back on his, riding him in a fast pace instantly, continuing on where the both of you left on.
Jeongguk gave your ass a hard slap and gripped them firmly, bouncing you up and down on his dick faster. “That’s it, that’s it,” he grumbled, sliding his hand down to strum your clit, “that’s right, fucking use my cock to get off. That cock is fucking yours to use.”
You threw your head back and he used that as an opportunity to lavish on your chest, sucking and licking, and with the overwhelming sensation of his dick, the friction, the stimulation on your clit—in an abrupt snap, you came hard without warning, practically screaming his name as you did so, thighs convulsing uncontrollably, Jeongguk moaning too, cupping your face and dragging it close to his so he could kiss you and add to the pleasure you were experiencing.
You rode him until your thighs were aching and until he was on the verge of coming himself. Jeongguk urged you off him and turned you on your back when he was close, the side of your face falling on the mattress. He held your hips up, pushed your upper half down further, and fucked you senseless immediately, not wasting time, overstimulating your sensitive pussy but it was too good to ask him to stop.
“Fuck, you feel so fucking good—so tight, don’t know how I fucking lived without the feel of this for fucking months—” he moaned and gave your ass another hard slap, the sound of it ringing in your ears and making you clench. Jeongguk cursed again at the action and bent down to press his chest against you, sloppy kisses given on your shoulders and neck. “I’m gonna come. Gonna come inside you.”
“Please,” you choked out.
“You too. Come with me, angel.”
“Guk,” you whined, your tone protesting.
He was ramming onto your harder, his hips going haywire, and his hand went under your bodies to caress your breast, fingers pinching the bud. “Please—fucking, holy shit—I know you can. I know you can come for me. You’re my good girl. My sweet—” he shoved his cock deeper, pulling back from the tip and then pushing it all in— “sweet, fucking, beautiful girl.”
It is when he did that previous movement for a couple of times and whispered more praises in your ear that you found yourself experiencing another orgasm the same time that finally he too came with a very audible groan, his thick seed spilling inside you and filling you up. He squeezed your ass harshly, nails digging on them a bit, and then he pulled out after a few more thrusts, eating your pussy from behind right after as if everything wasn’t enough. He groaned at the taste of his cum mixed with your juices; he felt blood rushing to his dick again at the arousing taste of it and the image of your swollen cunt a second ago with his seed pouring down.
“Guk,” you whined, “too… too much,” you said when it was really starting to hurt.
Jeongguk leaned his face away and calmed down, granting soft kisses on your buttcheeks, his kisses travelling upwards until he had you laying on your back again, his mouth back on yours. “I missed fucking you,” he declared explicitly and you had the nerve to laugh, the pit of your stomach tingling in agreeableness.
“Told you it was worth it,” you bothered to joke and Jeongguk chuckled, his breathing ragged but he was composing himself, raising his head and looking at you.
“You’re worth it,” he said.
Your heartbeat escalated—as if it hadn’t been beating fast enough with the events that just transpired—and you placed your palm on his cheeks, stroking it affectionately. “You too. I love you so much, Jeongguk.”
He nuzzled his nose against yours, smiling, endearing bunny-like features showcasing themselves; he appeared like a different person from the man who was just drilling your cunt a while ago. “I love you much more, my angel.”
“No, no, that’s unfair. No one gets to love the other more.”
“It’s true though,” he argued. “But I didn’t mean that as a way to compete with what you feel—I’m just saying I love you much more. Much more than I can always say.”
You squinted your eyes at him and laughed. “Okay, Dr. Cheesy.”
“You laughing at me?” He playfully grazed his teeth against your earlobe and you squealed, Jeongguk chuckling.
You smiled so wide that your cheeks hurt; you kissed him repeatedly, wounding your arms around his shoulders, sighing in peace and thanking the universe for setting you up with a man as extraordinary as your husband. He returned the gesture and the both of you continued to consummate your marriage again and again throughout the night, the passion and the intimacy undeniable as what should be expected with newly-weds who were deeply in love with each other.
That prevailed in the next few days to come. You and Jeongguk were going at it like—well, as you liked to describe him as—as bunnies. You two were practically never seen outside the hotel suite except for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, sometimes even skipping going to the buffet area and opted for room service instead. Though when all the oxytocin died down (there were still left, but controlled) and you weren’t taking the other’s clothes off in every chance that either of you could get, you went to the beaches and famous travel spots around the island.
There you had the opportunity to do all the things your busy lives couldn’t let you two do. Both of you went hiking to famous mountains, visited majestic waterfalls and caves—you and Jeongguk even went horseback riding where he showed you some serious skills that you don’t think you’ve had the chance to see before, and generally just headed to all the tourist attractions your itinerary contained. All throughout, you forgot about your life waiting in Seoul for a while, this honeymoon with Jeongguk proving to be an event that you most definitely wanted to recreate in the future if said life allowed you to.
“I don’t know if I’m aroused or disturbed,” Jeongguk whispered to you while you two stared at a sculpture of a man and a woman clearly having sex; the woman was doing some kind of handstand and the man was behind her, supporting her and quite frankly, had his penis inside her too. One of your destinations was the famous Loveland in Jeju Island, where apparently there was really a lot of R rated art involved all over the park just like what you’ve been briefed about.
You snickered. “Maybe we’ve been having sex too much that it’s not as exciting to see.” You tilted your head to the side to get a better look at it. The details amazed you.
“Absolutely not,” he disagreed with a scrunched forehead, gazing at the sculpture too in interest still. “Do you think we can do that position later?”
Your hand flew up to hit his chest at the sudden question, eyes widening. “Jeongguk!”
“What?” He was grinning already though. “Is it wrong for me to ask?”
“Can you not ask it at this second?” You laughed. Your face was already burning at just the thought of Jeongguk having you in that position.
“So, you’re down to do it then?”
“No,” you gave him a look, “and even if I was, I don’t think I can carry myself and be able to do what the lady is doing.”
He nodded as if he was in deep thought. Jeongguk was wearing a familiar button down polo that day, the same orangish yellow Fendi one you had teased him for when he first officially asked you out, and even in the five years that has passed, he still looked unbelievably delicious on it, his tattoos that have gained in number on full display and a new set of sunglasses hooked on the front of his top, tugging it lower than normal. “I mean, we can do it while on the bed, like without you doing the handstand.”
“You really want to try it, don’t you?”
“You mentioned us having sex and now you planted the idea, angel. It’s your fault.” He smirked.
You rolled your eyes and looped an arm around his. “Let’s get out of this place before you get any more ideas.”
“Is that a yes?”
“It’s a no, sweetheart.”
You still did it however—the revised version of course—that very night as well. You’ve concluded once more that there’s just no way you could ever resist Jeongguk the moment he begins working his charm. He knew exactly what to do to get what he wanted; you thought that it’s because he always got what he wanted too in the entirety of his existence that he was already a master in memorizing what people wanted to hear or see from him to make them do him the favor. At some point when you were just starting to get friendly with Jeongguk, you constantly teased him for being a spoiled grandson of the Don and he would retaliate playfully that you were a spoiled daughter too by your father. You had said that ‘okay, that makes us even then’, but you still thought that your level of being spoiled was no match to his.
Despite that, Jeongguk never appeared to be arrogant or entitled. He was raised well by his family who were the first to get a taste on how to slowly rise up to power by working diligently and then getting the eventual desired result. From what Jeongguk told you on the intimate nights you have shared before, his father introduced him to their business at a young age and taught him everything necessary to know, his knowledge increasing the same time his age did in due course. He studied overseas for college at the Don’s wishes, returned after he finished and got his degree, and met you officially a few months later when he entered your home with Inhwan. Since then and since you pursued a relationship with him, Jeongguk has never been anything but lovely. It caused you suspicion at first for you didn’t believe that a man your age could be that mature and that understanding, but Jeongguk was simply ‘built different’ that you later on went along with the fact that he was just truly extraordinary.
When the last four days of the honeymoon came in, business related calls were disturbing you and Jeongguk at random hours of the day. You had an associate you worked on a case with who was studying and running errands for you for the meantime, a minor real estate case that was going to have its first hearing in a month, and the topic he usually brought up when he continuously called or messaged you. Jeongguk, on the other hand, seemingly had more pressing issues with JSG; he was the President of the company after all.
You peeked out on the balcony where Jeongguk just answered a call. “Guk? The car we booked to that dining place just arrived. The driver’s already in the lobby.”
He glanced at you. His face was serious and he raised a hand up, a signal to ask you if you would wait. You nodded and pretended to let him mind his own business while you checked your purse if you’ve forgotten anything—you said pretended because even though you were doing all that, you stole subtle glances at his direction, his back facing you and the only view you had the opportunity to see through the glass door. However, his arm movements were still discernible and at the instance he suddenly brought a hand on top of his hair, distressed, head nodding vigorously, you were positive that he just received some kind of bad news.
You no longer hid how you were staring at him; you paused whatever it was that you were being busy with and waited until Jeongguk finished the call. As he did, he didn’t even bother putting his phone back in his pocket; he just raised the hand that was holding it to accompany the other one already on his hair before sitting down on the sun lounger with a motion that came out like he slipped. You didn’t think twice about marching out to talk to him.
“Hey,” you gently touched his back, “who was that? Anything wrong?”
Jeongguk looked up and your worry escalated when you got a glimpse of his tear-filled eyes. “He passed on, ____. Grandpop—he didn’t… he got another stroke and—Pop said he didn’t make it this time.”
“Oh my god—Guk, I’m so sorry.” You automatically engulfed him in an embrace and Jeongguk fully let himself cry in what felt like frustration, his face turning towards your neck where you felt his tears dampen your skin. You whispered words of comfort as he sobbed, rubbed his back and carressed the back of his head; Jeongguk showed you a newfound kind of vulnerability at the knowledge that his grandfather was no longer alive and made it apparent that you were going to be here for him and that everything was going to be okay.
You didn’t know the true impact of it—but the death of Don Jungsoo was definitely the last thing any member of the Jeon Family wanted, which meant unlike what you were murmuring, everything was not going to be okay.
━ CHAPTER V.
The trick with the wedding worked. Seokjin informed Jeongguk before he got in the car to the venue of the reception that there were for sure spies sent from the other prominent Seoul Families to oversee the ceremony. By that time, the associates would have already informed their Caporegimes and the Caporegimes would have already informed the underboss as well who would have relayed the message to their respective Dons. Jeongguk was glad to hear that, thankful that at least their efforts of arranging everything and marrying you quite early on than what both of you preferred didn't go to waste.
For the first week of the honeymoon, at early dawn when he woke up before you would, he’d shared a call with either Seokjin or his father. They included him in all business related transactions and heard his side to forward it with the Don when they discussed it with him. Don Jungsoo only approved or declined any plans they had or prepositions from other people they received, then Hanseo acted his demands out as the active underboss. Don Jungsoo was going to retire soon, the Godfather established it when he was restored to health, and wanted Hanseo and especially Jeongguk to be more concerned with the business now that he was a few steps away from officially handing over the business.
Though upon the Don’s sudden yet still foreseeable death, despite how they’ve been preparing for something as terrible as this to fall to the Jeon Family, Hanseo was still shaken to be deemed as the new Don of the clan and be the head of their syndicate. Even if he saw himself as adequate and intelligent enough for the position, Hanseo knew he wasn’t as great as the late Don Jungsoo to live up to his father’s shoes. Perhaps his son, Jeongguk, was more fit for it than he was ever going to be, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to bestow such responsibility unless Jeongguk was given no choice. For now, Hanseo had to do extremely good on his reign and prove to the members that he was deserving to be the Godfather.
Ultimately, Jeongguk took the death of his grandfather more badly than he thought. He was still rational and handled it the way Don Jungsoo would have wanted him to; however deep inside, there was a fire of hatred and anger burning inside of him that he only released in sessions at the gym where he boxed his frustration out, upset that Don Jungsoo’s passing had to happen when he was having the time of his life with you. He didn’t regret the honeymoon or wished that he had done anything differently in the last few weeks—it was just he didn’t understand why an unfortunate incident had to fall upon his Family when he thought things were beginning to go back to the way they were.
Jeongguk remembered how Don Jungsoo didn’t like the plan with the publicity stunt at the wedding when Hanseo informed him. He shook his head profusely, saying then that weddings are intimate ceremonies and should not be mixed with business; he said that he didn’t want his grandson to get married out of the blue just so they can show off his (then) improving health to the other Families.
“I was intending to marry ____ soon anyways, Grandpop,” Jeongguk reasoned. “Why not hit two birds with one stone?”
“You are?” Don Jungsoo mused. “You’re not saying that just to appease me?”
“It’s true,” Seokjin vouched for Jeongguk. “Guk’s been thinking about it even before we were planning this.”
The Don snorted and smiled, the first since a while. “Well, it’s about time. You need a woman like that in your life, Jeongguk. You don’t meet a lot of her kind these days.”
“I agree.” Jeongguk chuckled. “So, we’ll go forth with it, won’t we?”
The Don shrugged. “All I have to do is to not look sickly, don’t I?”
“Which I’m sure you’ll do fine, Pop,” Hanseo assured himself more than he did to Don Jungsoo. “Dr. Hwang said you’re improving. We’re going to plan the wedding and hold it as early as we can too.”
“Alright. Tell Inhwan not to spend a dime on his daughter’s wedding. I’m willing to pay for all the expenses.”
“That includes my share too, right?” Hanseo joked and the Don cracked another smile.
It did go on to be successful as they hoped. The Three Families that stood along them—the Lee Family, Yang Family, and Park Family—got the message that Don Jungsoo was well and managed to attend his grandson’s wedding in a great state. Operations continued to be quiet and the waging tension within the Mafia faltered as no one no longer questioned the health of Don Jungsoo, thus seeing the Jeon Family as credible once again. Of course, it wouldn’t have been too long as well before they all of the sudden hear the revelation that the same healthy man they were told about suffered a stroke while sleeping and no longer woke up.
“Let’s book the next flight back to Seoul,” you said after minutes of just holding Jeongguk in your arms. He was sobbing, his nose running and his head already thumping because of how hard he has been pouring his emotions out.
Jeongguk cried like a kid and he hated it whenever he did. It was not something he had control of though and he was just thankful that it was only you who had the chance to see him that way when he broke down after being called and notified by Hanseo. “Not yet,” Jeongguk replied, “I’ll, I’ll have to… I’ll have to call—”
“I’ll do it,” you finished for him, stroking his hair one last time and standing up to go back inside the room and get your phone.
He held your wrist; he looked a little disoriented to form his thoughts properly and his cheeks were still wet, his eyes glassy from sobbing. “No, ____, it’s best if—”
“I’m going to call my dad and he’ll be in charge of our flight back,” you cut him off again. “Or would you want me to call Seokjin instead?”
He stared at you, puzzled for a millisecond, but he was always under the impression that you already had an idea of what he and the Family truly did. You just didn’t confront him about it or made it too apparent that you knew something that wasn't intended to be known yet. Well, at least, not yet, you didn’t. “That would be better,” he affirmed your last statement. “But you should use my phone. This phone.”
You nodded and got the phone from his grasp before doing as said. Jeongguk was transparent to you early on that he used two phones; he used one for personal matters and the others for business affairs. Your number was on both devices.
Seokjin indeed handled yours and Jeongguk’s safe flight back. As you both arrived at the Jeon Residential Area—the place where the houses of the Don, Hanseo, Seokjin, and yours and Jeongguk’s were already built along with the other vacant ones intended for guests—there were a large number of men waiting for both of your arrival. Seokjin was there by the gate, a phone in his hand, talking to somebody else, though when he spotted the two of you getting out of the car, he rushed to end the call and walked towards Jeongguk, embracing the younger boy tightly with only one arm while he used the other to reach for you as well.
“I’m sorry the honeymoon was cut short,” Seokjin said.
“Jin, don’t be ridiculous, that shouldn’t be something to apologize for,” you answered.
“Grandma’s been crying for hours,” Seokjin said again, this time more to Jeongguk, “you two should go ahead and make your presence known.”
“You should go ahead, angel.” Jeongguk rubbed your back. “I’ll just talk to Jin for a bit.”
You nodded and walked to the front steps of the door. Once you entered and was out of earshot, Jeongguk turned back to his adoptive brother who had a melancholic expression. Seokjin’s eyes were a bit puffy and when he talked earlier, his voice was hoarse, meaning that like Jeongguk, he had been mourning over the death of the Don.
“Where’s Grandpop now?”
“At the mortuary. Your dad’s there with him and Inhwan and some members of his regime. They’ll be bringing him back in an hour or so or whatever how long it takes to get the old man ready. We’ll be holding the wake here in the house and they’re already preparing the space for it, some people are already cleaning it—the garden, that’s where it’ll be, yeah.” Seokjin appeared as disoriented as Jeongguk was in Jeju Island. “You have a cigarette, Guk?” he abruptly asked.
Jeongguk sighed at him. “No. I already quit, remember? I thought you did too.”
“Yeah, but I really need a smoke right now. All of this is making me crazy.” He sighed and glanced at some of the men who were nearby to where they were standing, one of them taking something from inside their jacket to reveal a cigarette box, Seokjin dashing to the guy and getting a stick, placing it between his lips and letting the soldier light it up for him. Returning next to Jeongguk again, he puffed out a smoke with a relieved breath. “Don’t tell my wife about this,” he told him.
Jeongguk grimaced. “I don’t need to. She’d smell it on you immediately. And seriously, Jin, you were doing well on not lighting a single cigarette for over a year.”
“Just one and I promise, I’ll stop,” Seokjin said and began speaking again, his previous sentence not taken seriously by himself. “I’m going to arrange a meeting with all of the Don’s important and political contacts after his funeral, one by one.” Seokjin got straight to the point. It was a time for grieving supposedly, but business doesn’t stop along with everything else when something terrible happens, and so Seokjin wanted to get it out the way as soon as Jeongguk arrived. “They’re going to be talking to Hanseo—I’ll be there too, of course, and so will you—and we’re going to see if they’ll remain affiliated with our Family. It’s best if we establish that early on and be clear where we stand. Without the Don, we’ll surely be losing half of our assets if Hanseo doesn’t convince them that they’ll still be gaining something from us.” He blew out more smoke.
Jeongguk watched it get lost by the windy night. “That’s good. We should keep the business going as it always has been. No need to make it a bigger deal than it really is. I mean, it is a big deal—we just don’t make it look that way to others, don’t make it seem like we’re lost or that we even think that the business is going to be hopeless from now on. It’s common sense and the obvious response but I wanted to reiterate it to let you know.”
“I get it. We can talk about that more when Hanseo gets home with the Don. We’ll discuss it too with Inhwan at the office.” Seokjin finished the cigarette quickly and threw it on the ground, crushing it with his feet. Though living within the Jeon Residential Area and accepted as an official member of the real Jeon family, he never once called the Don ‘Grandpop’ or Hanseo as his ‘Pop’. He always placed a barrier between himself and Jeongguk’s family but strangely cared for them like he was blood-related still. When it came to Jeongguk, he treated him like a real younger brother. “How are you, kid? Before I forget to ask and force you to go follow inside the house.”
Jeongguk chuckled halfheartedly. “I’m fine. I feel like shit. But I’m fine. You?”
“Likewise.” He snorted. “I’m just wishing that we’ll pull through this as smoothly as we can.”
They went inside after the short conversation and Jeongguk’s mood further deflated at the sight of his grandma in absolute tears. His mother, Yeonjin, was comforting the old lady and you were there doing the same, serving her with a warm cup of tea to soothe and calm her with Seokjin’s wife. Seokjin went to the kitchen to grab a mint and Jeongguk approached you four sat on the couch, going beside his grandmother and embracing her. He listened to her stories of distress, of how she loved the Don and has never loved another man in her whole life besides him. She said that though it hurt to have him leave earlier, she was glad that Don Jungsoo had passed in a peaceful death—in his sleep, and not by any means of violence, to which Jeongguk agreed to with a nod.
By 2:07 AM, Jeongguk’s uncles had arrived and they’ve taken his place beside the grieving wife of the Don who still couldn’t sleep until Don Jungsoo’s body and casket was placed at the garden and properly arranged. Jeongguk excused himself after giving his greetings to his uncles and subtly searched the house for you; he last seen you go upstairs where the bedrooms were with Yeonjin, and peeking at each one when he went upstairs to look harder, he saw you at one of the guest rooms, laying on the mattress though he was fast to notice that you had your eyes wide open to assume you were already sleeping.
He entered and purposely made enough noise to have you acknowledge him, and you did with a snap of your head to his direction, your eyes softening the second your gazes met. “Hey,” you said.
“Why aren’t you asleep?” He walked to the side of the bed where you were at. “Our luggages are back at our house, just so you know. We’d have to unpack but we can do that in the morning. The master’s bedroom is already ready though; you can sleep there for the night if you find it uncomfortable here.”
You slowly sat up and leaned back at the headboard. Jeongguk perched close to you and grabbed a hold of your hand on your stomach. “Aren’t you tired?” you questioned.
“I am.” He pressed his mouth together. “But I want to wait until they bring home Grandpop though. You should go to sleep, angel.”
“Why don’t you take a nap and I’ll wake you up when someone comes and finds you?”
“I think we both know better than to assume I’ll be waking up that easily with a nap.”
You chuckled. “I’ll kick you off the bed then if I have to.”
“I’ll wait with the others,” he said with a smile. “Besides, I haven’t talked to Pop in person. Haven’t seen Grandpop again either. I don’t want to wait too long for that.”
You nodded and fondled with his fingers. “Well, can you at least lay with me? For five minutes?”
Jeongguk chuckled, poking his tongue on his cheek before it was his turn to nod slowly, gesturing for you to move and give space for him. “For just five minutes.”
He laid down and wrapped an arm around your shoulders while you hugged his torso and pressed your cheek against his chest. You heard his fast beating heart, heard each breath he took, and the both of you said nothing for a short time. Jeonggguk ran his thumb up and down your arm and you played with the fabric of his shirt, the silence comforting yet daunting in an odd way for Jeongguk who abruptly thought of your actions back at the suite in Jeju. At that second, he was thinking if he should begin introducing the concept of the business to you—just a snippet of it—a vague description that would give you an answer but a lacking one for the events that would come. He could never explain the whole thing to you, the Cosa Nostra, unless it was the most ideal thing to do anyways; he stuck by their code and even if he didn’t, he didn’t want to stress you with the knowledge of what his Family did.
You managed to fall asleep in his arms and Jeongguk gently moved you to a better position on the bed before he kissed your temple, tucked you in, and left the room to go downstairs. It was 3:39 AM and he was sure that they were already arranging Don Jungsoo’s wake at the garden. His ears caught the engines of vehicles and the slams of the doors, followed by incoherent chatter and clicks of glasses that no doubt were shared by Caporegimes who fled from their territory to visit the Godfather.
“Guk,” Hanseo said when Jeongguk appeared from the staircase, “I’m glad that you’re here.” He was holding a glass of whiskey in another hand, eyes bloodshot and face looking older.
Jeongguk frowned as he walked towards him. “How are you, Pop?”
“We’re on our own now, Guk.” He ignored the question and clasped a hand on Jeongguk’s opposite shoulder. “I’m counting on you the most starting from now on. You got that? We have to keep the business running steady now that Pop’s gone.”
“Don’t worry,” he sighed, “we’ll sort it out.”
“I know, I know, of course, I do.” He drank the entirety of the glass in one gulp. “You’re my underboss now, kid. You’ve always been a strength in the Family—now I need you to divide your regime, your soldatos, to other factions—you’re going to be more hands on in this than you ever were.”
“Alright.” Jeongguk agreed. “I’ll do anything you want me to do. For now, you should stop drinking. You don’t want to get too drunk to entertain the soldatos and the guests that’ll go here. We have to talk too with Seokjin and Inhwan later.”
Hanseo nodded rapidly and to prove that he wasn’t going to drink more, placed the glass down on one of the tables in the living room with a rather loud thud. Jeongguk gave him a look but said nothing and just focused on striding to the garden where indeed the coffin of the Don was now situated. He inhaled deeply and watched the men from the funeral home organize the flowers and other necessary stands; his grandmother was also there, wiping the glass that enclosed Don Jungsoo in the casket that made approaching him harder for Jeongguk. Though when he and his grandma made contact and the old lady beckoned him to come closer like a child, he did and ashe saw him lying there, at peace and groomed in the best possible way, Jeongguk no longer found it hard to accept the reality of his passing, the thought that the Godfather deserved the long rest he had in stored now was enough to make Jeongguk feel better about it.
The wake of the late Don was attended by various personalities. The most controversial being policemen, judges, lawyers, prosecutors, and even politicians. Of course, the Dons of the other Three Families paid their respects as well, personally coming to the Jeon Residential Area and even going to the funeral afterwards when it was held a week after it. During that period, Jeongguk discussed with Hanseo and Seokjin repeatedly, sometimes including Inhwan at the meeting too. They handled everything needed to be addressed about the business; they went with what Seokjin said prior, which was talking with the contacts of Don Jungsoo and ensuring that their affiliation remained with the Jeon Family. Majority of them guaranteed that they’ll be honoring their friendship with the Don even after his death and that it can be counted on that their loyalty will still stand with their clan; the little others left though asked for understanding and some time to think about it for some organizations have also begun negotiating with them.
“It’s the Lee Family,” Hanseo said, sitting on the leather chair inside the office of Don Jungsoo; it felt strange to see him over there instead of his grandfather, Jeongguk thought, “they’re hoarding as much as they can. They’re trying to bring themselves to the top again. They even took the bait of Jang Yeocheol’s casino plans that Don Jungsoo didn’t want to take part in.”
“It’ll bring them more money, that’s why,” Seokjin said. “The casino will be used for narcotic operations. They’ve agreed to finance Yeocheol’s business and even pledged to protect him from the authorities with their legal contacts. It’s a logical route to go. Drugs are the leading commerce now, it’s being introduced in South Korea further; however, it’s the kind of filth Don Jungsoo didn’t want us to go with. He was already aggravated with the strip joints and all that when we caved into prosititution—drugs was the last thing he wanted to have associated with our Family.”
“Yeocheol will certainly want to talk to you again, Pop. He’ll want to restate and propose that we invest in him once more now that you’re the new Don. He’ll be hoping that you won’t have the same mindset as Grandpop and accept his offer this time,” Jeongguk told Hanseo.
“I wouldn’t want to go against one of my father’s last decisions.” Hanseo leaned back on his chair and sighed. “If Yeocheol arranges a meeting, we’ll entertain him, out of respect and courtesy. Ask a few questions too that we didn't get to ask last time for it was Pop leading. But we won’t dive into the business of narcotics, that’s already for sure. Do you have any objections about that, Consigliere?” He nodded at Seokjin.
“I’ll be honest,” Seokjin started off, “if it was Don Jungsoo who was about to get offered with it again, I would have said yes at this instance. Like I mentioned, drugs are the leading commerce these days, and I genuinely think it’d be good for us if we take a shot at it while it’s still slowly booming in the country.”
“But I’m not my father,” Hanseo supplied Seokjin’s reasoning early on and Seokjin nodded.
“You’re not, and we’re still at risk of losing some of our contacts and our legal defenses—one of them is even part of the Supreme Court and two are senior prosecutors. What Yeocheol wanted from us was legal protection, that was his main target, given Don Jungsoo’s connections and his power. So without that, I can only guess that his offer won’t be as grand as the last one. He’ll try to maybe it a little higher so we’ll bite, but the determining factor on how much we will gain from this is how much we will invest in the business still. Of course, there’s nothing wrong with that—it’s just that are we going to be comfortable with the fact that the Lee Family is going to gain more from it than we will?”
“I’ll go with you when he asks for another meeting,” Jeongguk said to Hanseo. “I’d like to hear his offers face to face again.”
“What happens when the offer’s good then? Do you think we should go for it?” Hanseo asked him.
Jeongguk shrugged. “I doubt it will be significantly better, or I at least doubt it’ll be better than the Lee’s. We’re going to be second in his priority list with that Family in the picture. But with the question of whether we should go for it or not, I’d like to reckon that we should. Let’s not involve ourselves with the operations though, it will be too risky for us, considering our state at the moment, but perhaps we should focus more on financing and a bit of what we could do for legal protection as an initial contribution to his business. Then we can see where it’ll take us or maybe we’ll just stick to that initial contribution, to honor what Grandpop’s would have wanted.”
Seokjin and Hanseo shared a look; the both of them were thinking of the same thing, Jeongguk had the same rationality, practicality, and leniency as his late grandfather. The way he even enlightened them with what he thought held the same aura as Don Jungsoo. “Okay,” Hanseo showed his approval with a raise of his eyebrows, “it’s time for us to wait for their move then.” He concluded their discussion at that note.
Another week passed and Seokjin received a call from Yeocheol himself, the man asking if he could arrange a meeting with the new Don of the Jeon Family just like what Jeongguk had predicted. Seokjin told him that he will contact him again after he forwards the message to Hanseo and within the next two days, the appointment was made to happen, Hanseo, Seokjin, and Jeongguk present at the private room inside a restaurant that Yeocheol booked for the occasion. There they discussed about the business, what Yeocheol wanted, what the Jeon Family would do and get if they partake in it, and at the end, Hanseo still declined as what Don Jungsoo did—the only difference was that Don Jungsoo was better with his words and better at appeasing the person he’s breaking the news on that the Jeon Family will not meddle with their affairs.
In Hanseo’s case, he didn’t possess that kind of ability, didn’t have a smooth tongue or the charm to win the favor of the opposing party despite his decision, and so when they left the venue, Yeocheol was mad and contacted the Consigliere of the Lee Family. He was going to make Hanseo regret his choice and withdraw it.
━ CHAPTER VI.
RMEC Law Firm was recognized to be one of the best law firms in the state. It garnered clients with high ranks in your society and housed lawyers at the top of their game, including you who was appointed as an associate in the two years you’ve been lending your service to the company. Don Jungsoo asked Seokjin to endorse you to the Chairman after you passed the bar exam and Mr. Kim, the mentioned Chairman, in respect and with the aim to give back to the Don’s generosity for what the latter has done to him before, gladly took you in and played a big part in boosting the early stage of your career by assigning you to their uppermost clients.
You have been so grateful to Don Jungsoo, you expressed your thanks by sending flowers that he liked to his main office and boxes stocke bread that he liked to share with his men, and it was well appreciated by the Don as Jeongguk told you when the both of you saw each other that very day, saying that the Don was glad to see such a gesture from you.
Now, it has been almost two months since Don Jungsoo’s death; things were going back to normal but at the same time, going off to another direction. His family no longer looked disheartened or grieved so openly like they did on the first days of his passing; they were more focused on maintaining the JSG Group’s reputation and business to still be caught up with their own personal stress of losing a loved one. From your husband’s words when you asked if he was truly fine, the Don would have wanted them to move on quickly and get on with life rather than mourn never endingly—so that is what they were doing.
Three knocks on the door to your office made you look up from the papers you were reading and when you did, your gaze fell on Jeongguk who had a hand on the handle and a handsome smile on his features. You returned the smile and marked the last page you were scanning before standing up to meet him halfway.
“You didn’t say you were going to visit,” you said with a chuckle, Jeongguk placing a paper bag on the long table you had in your space before stretching his arms out.
“If I did, it wouldn’t be a surprise.” He embraced you and kissed you swiftly on the lips.
“Still, a warning would have been nice.”
Another kiss and he leaned away after, you instinctively glanced at the glass windows to check if anyone was there snooping. You had learned it the hard way when a couple of associates saw Jeongguk burying his head on your neck in mid-make out session and biting along your clavicle when he visited you in the past; that act of his became a hot topic for a solid month—how the extremely attractive and rich fiancé then of ____ was close to eating her alive in her office.
However, that wasn’t the reason why you were cautious at the moment. Aside from the teasing that you received from your co-workers when they heard the rather spicy incident, there were also questions that arose that time that made you uncomfortable and a little worried for they were clearly said with malicious intent about Jeongguk’s family.
“Is it true that he’s the grandson of the mobster?” a female junior associate of the firm asked you, bumping elbows with you while all of you waited for the President to arrive at the conference room. It was the perfect moment to bring such a topic up as all of the lawyers were there to curiously listen.
“He’s probably a part of it too.” Another one, a male and a few years older, reckoned with a chuckle. “It’s a family business when it comes to those things.”
They looked at you to wait for an answer but you only pressed your mouth together, an action that meant you were clearly going to keep your lips sealed and not give them the satisfaction of biting back. You were still considered a rookie within the respected lawyers sitting with you at the long table and therefore didn’t want to cause any fuss on your part.
“His family runs JSG Group, a shareholder of this law firm,” Namjoon, the son of the Chairman who also worked as an attorney in the firm, piped in nonchalantly in behalf of you and you turned your eyes on him along with the others there, “and I don’t think it’s good to conspire and gossip against a member of a major shareholder, Mr. Oh.”
“We’re not conspiring, Namjoon. We’re just joking and bantering here. Aren’t we, ____? Mobsters aren’t a thing now anyways. This isn’t the 1950s. It’s not like the Mafia is still here.” The former man grinned at you as if you were good friends.
You didn’t answer again; you just kept on staring at him with a blank face until he grew disturbed and was looking at the woman earlier for a supporting comment. She didn’t say anything too though, and the two of them settled uncomfortably on their seats and feigned innocence as they brought another topic to the table.
You smiled at Namjoon in thanks and he gave you a small nod, resuming his skimming on the folder in front of him. He was untouchable because of his position and influence in the company; you were glad that he was your senior when you were only interning in the firm.
In regards to what your two co-workers mentioned about Jeongguk’s family business, you decided not to concern yourself with it further by searching for answers. They didn’t try poking you around with their ill-natured remarks after the incident at the conference room; they left you alone pretty much the following weeks, avoiding you like the plague but you couldn’t care less to wonder why their approach to you drastically shifted. Deep down though, you were assuming that it had something to do with their stunt reaching the Jeon Family, particularly Jeongguk who might have heard what happened through Namjoon as they were friends themselves.
You already had an idea that the reason why Don Jungsoo was so respected and acclaimed was because of something related to that kind of occupation or involvement with affairs that weren’t exactly clean business; it explained why their family a lot of enemies, why a lot feared them, why majority sought for the day that Don Jungsoo’s empire would fall. That’s why you kept a safe distance from it all as well—because you didn’t know how you would react when you do confront Jeongguk about it and he verifies your theories. Just like what’s been happening since the late Don’s death; you were aware that something was going on within the business due to Jeongguk’s frequent bad moods and his late night departures. He has been busy for the past weeks and has been stuck with his father or Seokjin most of the time too—you noticed and acknowledged all of that but didn’t say a word about it. You’ve been in this kind of phase with your dad, wherein you wondered and got worried all the time, so you had a clue or two on how to live with it with forced ease and ignorance.
Jeongguk followed your glances at the windows and smirked. “Paranoid that someone will catch us again?”
You went back to him and snorted. “You really know how to read my mind.” You proceeded on walking to the paper bag where there were small boxes of take-out from your favorite dining place. “What’s with the surprise visit though?”
“Can’t a husband surprise his wife at work?” He snatched another kiss, on your cheek instead, and helped you in unpacking.
You gave him a look of teasing doubt, causing him to chuckle. Jeongguk was always sweet and loving, but he wasn’t one to think of surprises or gestures of affection like this for you to believe him.
“What’s with that look?” he exclaimed with a laugh.
“Oh, you know what this look means, sweetheart.”
He rolled his eyes, surrendering then. “Fine. I know I’ve been absent, alright?” he explained. “I just wanna make it up to you.”
You smiled. “That’s very sweet of you, Guk, but you do know that I understand that things have been busy right? You don’t have to force yourself to do these things just because of guilt.”
“They’re not just because of guilt, silly. I’ve been missing you too. I came here because I wanted to see you.”
Your smile widened to a grin. “So, does that mean you’ll be joining me here? You’ll eat this lunch with me?” You were hopeful now but he frowned right away. He has been absent a lot. You’ve spent many nights being able to fall asleep on the bed and not have him beside you.
“Uh, not now,” he sighed as he gave you the direct answer, “later though, I promise. I’ll join you for dinner—I’ll even cook for dinner and then you can have me all night.”
“Is that for real this time? You won’t run away while I’m taking your pants off because someone called?” You reminded him of what happened the other day when you two were heading to business and then he abruptly left you to take care of matters concerning the company.
“Yes, I won’t bail on you tonight.” He moved behind you, hugging you from there and encircling his arms around your waist. “Pop’s heading somewhere too and Seokjin has the same plans as I do, which is to obviously woo the wife. So, I swear, you’ll have me as much as you want, angel.”
You laughed, swiftly kissing his exposed cheek as he laid his chin on your shoulder. “Good. Also, now that you mentioned it, I think Dad’s going to be with Pop. I invited him for dinner first since he kept on saying he was feeling lonely with me not always in the house anymore but then he said he had plans tonight.”
“Dad has been guilt tripping me about that too.” Jeongguk chuckled. “He said that since I took his daughter away, he’s starting to know more about the rooms of the villa. Has he told you that he’s turning one of the guest rooms to a home bar?”
“Wow. He decides to do that the second I move out, huh?”
“It’s a fun concept. Just wish he had done it too when I had more reasons to go there.”
You snorted and Jeongguk grinned.
As you finished placing the take-out on the table and opening all the containers, Jeongguk made it known again that he wouldn’t be able to stay long and that he had to go; he had a meeting with a potential investor, he said, though he added as well that your dinners plan with him later will still go according to plan like he promised. You nodded and he gave you a long kiss on the mouth and on the forehead as an apology for going out so soon before leaving you alone to eat the delicious lunch he bought for you, which didn’t seem as appetizing as it usually was without Jeongguk to share it with.
At 7:31 PM, you were driven home to the Jeon Residential Area by your chauffeur. Arriving at the huge gate that secured the premises, you took note of the seemingly hundreds of men hired to guard the whole sector while the vehicle you were riding passed through. They doubled the security four days ago for a reason you didn’t know—and you didn’t ask, just mentioned it casually one time as a way of saying that you found it still concerning despite your indifference; Jeongguk assured you that it was nothing to worry about and it was just—as he always says—a precaution.
You thanked your driver as he parked in front of your home with your husband and bid your good night, hopping out and walking towards the front door. The car only left when you had closed the door and were taking your shoes off, the smell of familiar home cooked food blessing your nostrils that you hurriedly went to the kitchen to see what it was. You were definitely surprised to see Jeongguk behind the stove with an apron on the moment you stepped in, and you remembered a part of his promise where he claimed he was going to cook dinner for the two of you tonight.
“You really are cooking,” you said with an amused huff.
He lifted his gaze up and placed his spoon down. “Correction, I cooked. Past tense. I’m already done. You’re right in time.”
“Is it any good?” you teased; you marched forward to give him a kiss of greeting on the lips which he happily obliged to.
“Of course, it is. You insult me, angel.”
“I was kidding.” You swayed your hip towards his to set him off balance.
He chuckled and pinched your side as a payback that you whined at before he nodded to the dining table and turned off the stove. “Let’s set up the table and eat.”
“Okay.”
Among the other things that Jeongguk hasn’t been doing because of the past busy month was cooking, and it was because of that reason too why having dinner with the food he just cooked made the night a special one compared to the others in a while. He truly cooked better than you and was more useful in the kitchen. You were sure of that because unlike you, he grew up with a mother and a grandmother who taught him all the basics and guided him with the recipes he knew of today. You, on the other hand, mostly relied on YouTube video tutorials and did a lot of trials and errors on your own. It wasn’t until you and Jeongguk were getting serious that you began learning from Yeonjin to be a better cook yourself.
“What do we have for dessert?” you asked after swallowing your last spoonful of rice. What he prepared was delicious and fulfilling that you’ve been going on about how good it was while you ate, your husband’s ears reddening at the endless compliments. Not one to draw attention to himself for a long time though when it came to you, he’d ask you more about your day and open random subjects to get out of the limelight.
Jeongguk glanced at you; he still wasn’t done eating. “Each other.”
You kicked him under the table and he almost choked, startled. “You’re ruining my mood for good food, sweetheart.”
“Am I not good food?”
“You’re not even food.”
“Okay, I’ll rephrase that—am I not good to eat?”
You snickered and continued staring at him, the grin on your face remaining. He really was the most ridiculous man you have ever met sometimes. It was one of the qualities you loved most about him too though.
“There’s ice cream on the fridge,” he added shortly with a laugh and you thanked him immediately, standing up to get yourselves some mugs so you can start scooping for the both of you. He was in the middle of drinking water when the doorbell rang multiple times, sort of like in a frenzy, and he placed the glass down to attend to it. “I’ll get that.”
You watched him leave his chair and you went back to your quest. It was probably Seokjin who was ringing the doorbell at this time of the night, you thought, as he was the only one present in the Jeon Residential Area like you and Jeongguk were. This kind of circumstance happened frequently anyways that you didn’t even bat an eye as the sound of the doorbell echoed inside the house, you just assumed that it was his brother who wanted to talk to him urgently about god knows what. Though you can’t lie and say that you didn’t find the frantic doorbell ringing didn’t put you off guard even a little bit.
You were glad actually to have someone as close as Seokjin within the compound. It enabled impromptu lunch double dates with his wife who you were getting close with since you got engaged to Jeongguk. She was a beautiful and nice lady, only three years older than you were; she worked as a preschool teacher in a nearby school, which you praised her for because you don’t think you’d have the same exact patience as her when it came to kids to tolerate a job like hers.
“That son of a bitch!”
The ice cream scooper you held fell on the sink where you were washing it because of Jeongguk’s sudden booming voice and shout of profanity. You froze for exactly two seconds, time moving slowly, your heartbeat quickening, and with the wariness that was beginning to erupt in your system because of what you heard, you headed to the hallway where the front door was to see what the commotion was all about.
There you saw Seokjin hissing at Jeongguk, his hands firmly gripping his shoulders, his words inaudible and incoherent from the distance between you and the two of them; as you made your presence known, Seokjin’s eyes flickered to you and his eyes softened for a quick second, a look of downcast falling on his features.
“Hey, Jin,” you started it off casually, your voice unconsciously quivering at the nerves, “I thought you were off to woo the wife?”
Seokjin stared at you in a manner that you didn’t like. It screamed pity and guilt and sadness and the next thing you know, he was turning away from you in frustration, his hands on his hips as he faced the other side of the front door that was still open. You snapped your gaze to Jeongguk then and he was approaching you, his eyes glassy and stern; in each step he took, your heart dropped lower and lower, the uncertainty and the possibilities of what might have happened supplying frightening thoughts in your mind. It all came to a stop when Jeongguk carefully held both of your cheeks, his thumb rubbing your skin gently as if you were this fragile being.
“Guk,” you gritted your teeth, the anxiety was bubbling up too fast for you to handle; you’ve just been enjoying dinner with him, what have possibly gone wrong for the mood to shift like this? “what is it? Is everything alright?”
“Angel, listen hard, okay? I don’t want to repeat it again,” he said in almost like a hushed mumble. He knitted his eyebrows together, his tears piling up further—were they in sadness or anger? You weren’t so sure yet. “Pop and Dad got shot. We don’t have a definite lead on who might have caused it and now they’re in the hospital. But ____, Dad… your father… he didn’t—they couldn’t do anything anymore.”
Your heart was sent crashing down, you even think that you heard them shatter to pieces. His words entered your ears effectively but they weren’t processing well. You felt sick all of the sudden and your head was starting to hurt at this overwhelming want to sob, your eyes welling up. “What?”
Jeongguk gulped, his palms moving from your cheeks to your hair in an attempt to caress you in comfort. “He didn’t make it, angel. When they arrived at the scene, there was no pulse.”
“What? That can’t be true.”
“They did everything they could.”
“No,” you held on to his wrists, pushing him back, but he was strong and so he stayed holding you, “no, no, no, Guk—what? He can’t be—that’s not possible—it can’t be. I was just talking to him earlier—I even sent him a text while I was being driven home—” you were starting to hyperventilate, your tears running down. Jeongguk pulled you to his chest; you were thrashing and you were sobbing uncontrollably, the reality in which your father was dead was sinking in and causing your temples to ache further— “no, he can’t be—whoever told you that—it’s bullshit!” You looked up at Jeongguk, the way you looked at him was pleading, in defeat; your gaze was telling him that you wanted him to tell you the opposite, you wanted him to assure you that Inhwan was still alive. “Tell Seokjin—whoever it was that said, that said that—that said that Dad is dead—is a liar!”
He only stared at you in return, his own tears falling on his face. Inhwan was a prominent figure in his life as well, and to say that he was devastated and angry by the news would be an understatement. The sight of hum crying with you made you sob harder, his expression of loss and regret; it made your knees weak and your surroundings ringing deafeningly that caused Jeongguk to carry you in his arms better—it was getting impossible to breathe then and your vision was turning crucially blurry.
“I’m sorry,” Jeongguk whispered, embracing you tight, letting you sob hard on his chest, “I’m so sorry, angel. I’m so sorry.”
Before you could even think of replying, to demand an answer from him why he was apologizing, you passed out in shock of the overwhelming events, and Jeongguk caught you quickly, shouting at Seokjin who rushed back inside to get you. Together they carried you to the living room sofa, Jeongguk ordering Seokjin to get a glass of water while Jeongguk called Yeonjin if she could come to your household and take care of you. His mother agreed, already aware of the unfortunate event, and after they said their assuring words to each other, Jeongguk hung up and waited until you woke up.
As you did, your eyes blinking and brimming with tears once more, he kissed your forehead and stroked your hair. “I’m going to take care of this,” he said in a promise. You were coming back to your senses and you were remembering what your father suffered from. “I’ll handle this. I’ll find out who did it and, and—I’ll kill the bastard myself.”
You were still groggy and disoriented but you understood his statement perfectly. You gazed at your husband and saw now a new guise being shown on his face; it was familiar and foreign all at the same time. You’ve seen him aggravated before, have seen him being so frustrated when things didn’t go his way—but this right here… this dangerous and angry bearing he had, it was a totally different expression that you haven’t had the chance to see in the past decade of knowing him. It scared you and it urged you to think about Jeongguk’s well-being more than the horrible news earlier for a split second. “Jeongguk…” you whimpered.
“I’ll kill him.” His jaw was clenched. “I’ll make him regret what he did, angel. I promise.”
“Guk…” you breathed out and tugged on his forearm. He looked at your grip and allowed you to pull him towards you, to wrap your arms around his neck to cry some more. He sighed against your neck, whispered his apologies over and over again though with no explanations why, and when you decided to finally respond to what he was telling you, Jeongguk stiffened in surprise, not expecting that you would request such a thing, especially at your state, but who was he to judge and deprive you of the opportunity? So, nodding and kissing your cheek, he agreed.
You just told him you wanted to kill the man who did the shooting incident that led to your father’s death yourself, and indeed that was going to be what Jeongguk would enable you to do.
━ CHAPTER VII.
The bastard’s name was Lim Sehyung, a man who was an associate for the Lee Family. He was known to be precise and attentive to what is being asked of him by the Caporegime he was under, and for his latest assignment, he was to shoot the Don of the Jeon Family as a threat from the Lee clan that meant Yeocheol, who was under their wing, meant serious business.
To do that successfully, he followed the pattern of Hanseo’s whereabouts, he bribed a dishonest Mafioso within the Jeon clan, and offered the person more money if he gave the information that Sehyung needed. In only two weeks after his Caporegime told him of what he needed to do, he executed and met the unsuspecting Don Hanseo while he was leaving a restaurant with his Caporegime, Inhwan. He shot the Boss three times, all in the parts that wouldn’t be fatal because his death was not what the Lee Family wanted yet, but he wasn’t as merciful to Inhwan who he showered with bullets and who fiercely fought back, shooting even the latter’s forehead for a safety measure.
Within the two weeks after he committed the crime as well, the same Mafioso he bribed would be forced to reveal Sehyung’s identity as the soldato of the Lee clan who did such a terrible act—the said mafioso was beaten until he spilled the beans when Seokjin received the tip that he was was the one who sent the details of Hanseo’s frequent whereabouts to Sehyung, and when he did confirm that he was the one who betrayed his Family and conspired with Sehyung, in Jeongguk’s rage, he personally sliced the mafioso’s tongue off, asking Yoongi, who was the reserve Caporegime of Inhwan’s faction and was the acting one upon his captain’s death, to send the piece of muscle to Sehyung as a warning that they were aware of his doings and that he would be next. As Yoongi agreed and got to business, Jeongguk shot the mafioso with one bullet to his brain.
That was one of the few times that Jeongguk’s anger got the best of him. Because of the Lee Family’s schemes, his father was in the hospital trying to recover from his bullet wounds and his wife, you, just lost her father; to top that all of, he was now hailed as Don Jeon, the head of their syndicate with Hanseo’s bad condition and his uncle who didn’t have the wits to lead willingly giving the title to him. Jeongguk accepted the responsibility right away as soon as Seokjin informed him of the shooting, knowing that it was him who was supposed to help his late grandfather’s empire rise up again, and even that was a hard task on its own, what he found harder was breaking the news to you that night when your dad was murdered.
Inhwan was cremated after you visited his body at the morgue. Jeongguk was there with you when you did, and he took note of how you only hugged and sobbed against the lifeless body of Inhwan; you didn’t pull the sheet away from his face to look at him for one last time. When Jeongguk asked you about it as gently as he could, you told him that you didn’t want your last memory of your father to be of an unrecognizable dead man’s face who was killed without mercy.
Your answer made Jeongguk angry again though he had more control of his temper by that time and knew he had to be logical now in the steps he would be taking in the future. Amidst all the noise and the tabloids spreading more dirt about the Jeon Family because of Hanseo’s misfortune however, Jeongguk never heard one question from you about it or at least an answer why your father was involved with the mess and had received the most lethal blow. He knew then that you knew of what he did and what his Family was capable of; he guessed that he should have known anyways because of what he said on the couch the night the two men were shot and what you said in response to his proposal.
Seokjin helped you with the legalities regarding the winery. He was the one who pulled the strings and transferred all the entities to your name. It wasn’t a hard task and a big deal since you were married to the Chairman—Jeongguk was now the acting Chairman as well—so, just like that, you were appointed as the new CEO to lead the wine company.
“Guk,” you murmured to him before sleeping, two days before you would meet the man who arranged the demise of Inhwan, “promise me you’ll always be safe.”
He exhaled harshly, pressing his mouth on the corner of your lips. “I promise, angel.” It was a white lie. In the business, he could never be safe, but he would try to do better from that on just for you.
“You’re the only one I have now.” You told him that in a showcase of vulnerability and your voice trembled as you did. “I can’t afford to lose you too.”
“You won’t.” He ran his fingers through your hair, lulling you to sleep for it was only then he’s able to leave you to the care of his mother. “I’ll always be here. I won’t go anywhere. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”
You cracked a smile, though a tear also fell out of your eye in that instance and he held you in his arms again until you were truly asleep. He left you in his mother’s safe keeping, hugged and assured his mother too that everything was going to be fine, and left that night to go to his grandfather’s house where the main office for operations was still organized and discussed with his Consigliere, Seokjin.
There they devised a plan that would be soon the prominent factor of why a war between the Four Mafia Families of Seoul would commence, the infamous bloodshed making it to national television as men were found dead on the streets and institutions were burned to the ground—and alongside that plan was the objective of being the winning syndicate out of the four, the strongest Family to be glorified and recognized, a ploy that would also be successful in months to come thanks to the combined ruthlessness of Jeongguk for their enemies and Seokjin’s intelligence that contributed to their excellent strategies.
His prime concern for now was having Sehyung pay for what he did to Hanseo and to Inhwan. On early Monday morning, Jeongguk had the solution for that problem as Yoongi called him and informed that they had taken Sehyung into captivity. He was pleased and impressed that Inhwan’s reserve Caporegime was truly competent to do the job right; he told Yoongi that he would receive a great sum of money for his adequacy and relayed to him all the details on where to bring Sehyung and what to do with him for the meanwhile.
“You think ____ can do it?” Seokjin asked him a day before Sehyung’s murder. They were lounging in the office, at their grandfather’s den, having just finidhed talking to some men over the phone to carry out their plans.
“Do what?”
“Kill someone.”
“I don’t know.” Jeongguk shrugged and brought his glass of whiskey to his lips; despite his nonchalance, he was greatly worried about you. “____’s capable of anything as long as she puts her mind to it.”
“Yeah, but killing someone, Guk. That’s a whole different story and you know it.”
“I won’t force it on her. I’m just giving her what she wants—if she decides not to do it, I’ll gladly finish the job.”
“You sure she wants that? She wasn’t just acting out of her emotions that night?”
“I asked her a couple more times after that night and believe me, she’s… she really wants to do it.”
Seokjin nodded in understanding and Jeongguk, who knew where his brother was coming from, made sure you were still 100% on board with your idea on the day he was going to bring you to the warehouse where Sehyung was already beaten like a pulp, like the soldato he trusted and conspired with, already on the brink of death and the only thing keeping him from hell was the bullet you were going to shoot.
Jeongguk knew you weren’t one to be squeamish easily, but if you were to see someone being beaten and kicked over and over, pieces of their flesh flying everywhere, he wasn’t so sure if that was still going to be the case; that’s why he opted not to let you watch the bastard get beaten in front of your eyes.
“You sure you want to do this?” Jeongguk questioned as you both got out of the vehicle. The warehouse you were walking on was a favorite torture place by the Jeon Family; it was only natural that Sehyung was going to be executed here. “I’m giving you an out right now. I’ll send you home with Seokjin and I’ll do it.”
“No.” Your expression was serious but your tone was uncertain. “I need to do this.”
“You don’t need to do anything. If you’re doing this because you think Inhwan would have wanted it for you—”
“Why else would he have taught me how to use the gun?”
“For self-protection,” he replied coolly.
You glanced at him, your eyes wary and yet determined, and he held out his hand. You sighed, taking it, and he led you to the doors where a couple of his men were there along with Seokjin, Yoongi, and of course, Sehyung who was tied in a chair. Stepping past the entrance, he caught a clearer sight of the bastard’s face and saw that it was almost indescribable by how much they’ve assaulted it; from the way your hold tightens on his hand, Jeongguk knows you were seeing it too.
“You sure you want to do this?” It was Seokjin who asked you that again while he approached you two, a gun ready in his hand. “Have you ever held one of these things before, princess?” He teased you.
“What do you take me for, Jin?” You had the nerve to chuckle.
“I’m just making sure you know what you’re doing,” Seokjin said, handing the gun not to you at first, but to Jeongguk. “Can’t turn back time once it’s been done.”
“He’s right,” Jeongguk agreed. “One last time, angel. You can back out now and I’ll do it.”
“I want to do it.” You gritted your teeth together. “I thought you were going to let me do it?” You were staring at Jeongguk with a hard gaze.
He returned your stare; he was analyzing every feature on your face, trying to detect anything that would give off your reluctance. Seeing none, only your frustration, your glassy eyes, and your pressed lips, he picked your wrist up and placed the grip of the gun on your palm. “Safety lock is still on. Do as you like then.”
You huffed out a breath and strode forward to where Sehyung was situated. Jeongguk followed but stopped at a distance to give you your space, Seokjin following beside him and halting at the same time, copying his movements. Together they watched you stand a few centimeters away from the man who shot your father, your arms raising and the gun you’re holding being pointed at Sehyung immediately.
Sehyung sat there immobile. His eyes were opened but you could barely see that they were because of how swollen it appeared. His whole face was a bloody mess and so was his body, streaks of blood shown on his clothes and some still pouring from cuts on his skin. As he noticed your presence before him, he lifted his head up, smiled mockingly, scoffed—and then with every last bit of strength he had, he spat blood beneath your feet and chuckled.
It was in that second, when Jeongguk thought you were finally brave enough to pull the trigger as soon as possible, that your hands began shaking, the breath you let out quivering as if you were cold. It was the least of what he was expecting from you—he reckoned that you would have shot the man at exactly the instance a droplet of blood landed on your shoe in irritation of what Sehyung still had the guts to do—but it made you react the opposite, made you second guess your actions and hesitate.
“Whaing ait yor ating fore?” Sehyung’s speech was gibberish as he taunted you, a large number of his teeth no longer in his mouth and his consciousness was fading out slowly. “Kill me, you bitch!”
Jeongguk gazed at you from behind, waiting like the rest, his fist was formed beside him in anger of what Sehyung uttered but he controlled himself to give you your chance—to give you what you asked him to. Everyone present anticipated your next move, to see the wife of the Don commit the same grave sin they have to be a made man. However, when the sound of your scared whimper entered his ears instead of the fire of a gun, when he saw your composed stance loosening and your feet staggering back because of the intimidation of your father’s killer, Jeongguk dashed forward automatically, threw the promise he made to let you shoot the man far off his mind at that instance, and positioned himself behind you, one of his hands on your shoulder and one on both of your hands that were holding the weapon.
You had all the nerve and the determination in the world for a lot of things; you studied law, you handled pezzonovantes as clients, you managed to be with Jeongguk even on the days you knew there was serious danger lurking around him and his family—but out of all the things you’ve been brave for, you certainly couldn’t do it for this one, and Jeongguk didn’t want you to go forth with something you obviously weren’t ready to do. He realized then at your reluctance and frightened state that he didn’t want you to get blood on your hands, to be responsible for another person’s death. You were one of the few glorious things in his life, the guardian on his shoulder that reminded him of the goodness still in this world, and he wasn’t going to change that just because of what you thought you wanted to do.
Ever so gently, he took the gun from your grasp and moved his palm from your shoulder to your eyes, covering them, using it to turn you around until he pulled you to his chest. There you sobbed, latched onto his shirt, and whispered apologies for not being able to get on with but Jeongguk didn’t mind them, he was focusing on holding the gun properly with one hand to assure you that you didn’t do anything wrong, the best he could do was just shush you in comfort.
“It’s okay, angel,” he mumbled, his hand on your eyes moving to the back of your hair, caressing it while he continued to shush you like a baby. “I’ll do it for you.” He pressed a kiss on your temple.
As the last syllable flowed from his mouth, he didn’t prolong it any longer and shot Sehyung twice—one on the head for what he did to Inhwan and the other on the mouth for the foul name he called you. You flinched in his arms at the booming sound, much more because of the sudden drop of Sehyung’s chair backward at the force of the bullet lunging in his brain, and Jeongguk calmly handed the gun to Yoongi who was waiting by the side to get it from him.
At the same time Jeongguk shot Sehyung, a soldato of the Jeon Family shot the underboss of the Lee clan while he was exiting the golf he frequented in at another location, and while that was taking place, another also gave Jang Yeocheol the taste of his own medicine under Seokjin’s orders for planning such treachery to the Jeon Family. Those murders would erupt the war between the Four Families of Seoul and would force Jeongguk to urge his Family (and all his loved ones) to go to the mattresses with him to protect themselves from the awaiting bloodshed from the rivalring organizations.
“It’s done,” he said.
You exhaled, nodding, and instead of being repulsed for witnessing Jeongguk murder a man in front of you like he abruptly feared as the bullet went through Sehyung’s forehead, the thought occurring to him that he has shown his worst side to the woman he loved, you embraced him tight and took heavy breaths to calm yourself. It was then that Jeongguk vowed to himself that he will never let you see him kill or harm another man ever again.
He was positive now that you were absolutely certain of what he could do, what his Family was capable of, and how much power they truly possessed. For the months to come, he would have to be more transparent to you than he has ever been before to keep you safe and to assure you that he too was going to be safe. The War of the Four Families was going to be the reason why you would be the first lady to join the Mafia in the Jeon Family, joining hands with Jeongguk and Seokjin as the three of you bring your clan back to the summit.
“Thank you,” you murmured and he looked down at you, strange to hear your gratitude considering what he did to obtain it. He was still expecting you to run away or to at least stare at him with disgust. The only thing you did was keep him closer to you, not wanting to let go.
He smiled and kissed your hair. Jeongguk was going to look after you until his very last moment on earth, both for his sake and for the sake of your late father.
“Anything for you, my angel.”
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THANK YOU FOR READING & FEEDBACK IS ALWAYS APPRECIATED ! ♡(ˆ‿ˆԅ)
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tagging: @mercurygguk @fan-ati--c @moonchild1 @unicornbabylover @shameless-army @1-800-seo @fancystrawberrynerd @dreamamubarak (striked means tumblr wouldn’t let me tag them !)
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snackhobi · 8 months ago
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min yoongi is the best shot in the business. you’re the best gunsmith in the city and the only person he trusts to programme his tech; to make his gear. 
he likes your work. it’s a shame, then, that he doesn’t like you.
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pairing: yoongi x f!reader / word count: 14.3k / genre + rating: NSFW (18+), cyberpunk!au, smut, frenemies (?) to lovers
warnings/etc: hitman!yoongi. black market dealer/gunsmith!reader. cursing/explicit language. whole lotta tension, sexual and otherwise. mentions of injury/violence. minor character death (no one important, don’t worry, this isn’t an angst fic). brief hurt/comfort. reader has tattoos. sexually explicit content. oral; fingering; multiple orgasms; overstimulation (f). unprotected sex (please take the necessary precautions irl). rough sex?. choking. creampie. brief mention of aftercare. I think that’s everything but please lmk if I missed any!
a/n: thank you SO MUCH to both @hobi-gif​ and @morndas​ for beta reading this and being so supportive, ily both so much and I owe you my life 🤧💕 as always what was meant to be a short fic turned into a huge one. also this is technically for my 1.1k milestone but it’s a billion years late, oops!​
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Yoongi really doesn’t like you.
You’re loud. Cocky. Arrogant. You needle him all the time, dig your fingernails in and squeeze, revelling in the way he sets his jaw, the muted spark of irritation in his eyes. You bat your eyelashes and tilt your head, throw it back whenever you laugh and reveal the easing column of your throat, dragging each interaction out with a kind of sadistic pleasure that has him gritting his teeth. Because you love annoying him, getting under his skin, tapping your fingers against the soft swell of your bottom lip as you eye him up, taking your time before you speak.
Infuriating. You’re infuriating and you know it.
It’s unfortunate, really, because you’re unavoidable. 
Jungkook had asked, once, why Yoongi doesn’t just go elsewhere. They’re more than familiar with the underbelly of this heaving city, underneath all the neon lights and shimmering holograms and towering skyscrapers and legal tech; the scuttling seams of back alley traders and illegal goods, tech or otherwise. There are plenty of black market dealers, after all, plenty of other vendors he could go to to get the equipment he wants. Plenty of other skilled crafters, artificers, artisans, people who would be more than happy to create the things that Yoongi asks for, that he needs. People who can get their hands on anything you want. For a price.
Yoongi’s answer had been short and succinct.
“She’s the best there is,” he’d said, and that had been that.
Because it’s true. You might be exasperating, maddening, laughing in Yoongi’s face where others might cower or genuflect, but no one is as good as you. All of Yoongi’s gear has been crafted by you; each and every single one of his weapons, his tech, the headpiece that fits so perfectly around the back of his skull that Yoongi often forgets that it’s there, hidden in his hair, unfolding across his eyes whenever he lines up a shot to make the kill—there’s evidence of your work across every inch of his body, hidden away under his clothes, day in, day out. Even when he’s not on a contract Yoongi never leaves anything to chance. 
(A walking armoury, Namjoon had called him once.)
(You’d phrased it differently.
You’re always packing, hmm? you’d hummed, rapping your fingernails in a steady beat as you’d leaned back in your chair, smiling with teeth. There was laughter in your words and your gaze, no attempt made to hide your amusement, but after your goading you’d made him a collapsible sword anyway. It’s a beautiful thing, this folding blade, bristling with plasma and energy if Yoongi needs it, lethal and deadly. One of his most prized possessions, something that’s gotten him out of multiple corners, and he owes it—you—his life.)
There’s no one on par with you. You’re a Renaissance woman, a fiercely talented polymath who doesn’t need to rely on anyone else to create the things you create. Low-tech, high-tech, no tech—you make everything from scratch, programme things yourself, hunched over each project in your own workshop with nothing but your mind and your own two hands.
It’s the only reason he puts up with you and your antics, the sharp jibes, the shameless flirting; you’re the most infuriating person he knows, but there’s no one else he would trust with the work that you do.
Unfortunately.
Which is why Yoongi finds himself here, again and again, as familiar with this studio as you are—he watches you work, sometimes, watches you sketch up blueprints and drag your fingers across your array of displays, your world cast in shifting shades of cyan and electric blue from all the tech in here, humming and alive. He likes to see how his equipment is made, after all. It can mean the difference between life and death. He takes this seriously.
It’s the one time you might be quiet. Might be quiet, because you still talk even when you work; flick your gaze between Yoongi and whatever’s set in front of you, that ever present smile spread across your lips, smug and amused. You’re only silent during the hardest jobs. Like right now, you’re intense and focused, a furrow dug between your brows as you survey his sniper rifle—almost shorn in two. (It had been the only thing to hand when he’d had to block a blow from a guard he’d somehow overlooked, no time to draw any other weapons before they’d started to brawl.)
You’d been unimpressed. You’d raised your eyebrows with all the severity of a disappointed mother, bitten words out at him with molten snideness, dripping heat and snark.
“It’s a gun, Yoongi. A gun. You know, something you shoot with? Pew pew? Blammo? I’m not sure what sort of shields and body armour you’ve seen in the past but this isn’t either of those things. Do you want me to sketch some diagrams up for you? Or maybe I could write you a book. Baby’s First Arsenal, Chapter One: The Difference Between Things That Are Guns And Things That Aren’t. Would that be helpful?”
No one else talks to Yoongi like that. No one else would dare. It’s only a rare few that know his birth name and it’s not often that he hears it, more used to the sound of Agust D falling off people’s lips. But that had been part of your price, part of the agreement when he’d first met you and asked for your services: his real name.
Yoongi had let it wash over him, had endured your tongue-lashing before putting the gun down with a heavy finality and thrust it over at you, tired of all your talk.
“Just fix it,” he’d demanded.
You’d laughed in his face.
“As always, your bedside manner leaves something to be desired,” you’d said, taking the rifle from him.
The D-2 Shadow isn’t just a weapon. It’s a piece of art, clean edges and slick lines, and Yoongi is grateful to have it back in his hands. There’s no other sniper rifle like it, made of super lightweight alloy and easy to handle; thermal scope, enhanced stabilisers for accuracy; superior kinetic coils for better shot penetration. Yoongi had asked for the best and you’d delivered. Gone above and beyond, crafted a weapon the likes of which no one else possesses, modified in ways other people can’t even fathom.
And you’d fixed it when he'd almost let it get destroyed. Made it better than new, even, layered it in more alloy to make it stronger without making it heavier, a new material of your own design. If he hadn’t known you as well as he does he’d have worried that it was beyond repair, knows that other gunsmiths would have taken one look at its crumpled body and shaken their heads, but you hadn’t. 
Of course you hadn’t. You never do.
You charge him a pretty penny for your work, make him pay through the nose for everything he asks of you, but Yoongi is more than willing to do so. More than capable of paying, coffers lined with more money than he might need, one of the best contract killers there is—the real price he pays is with his sanity, worn away each time you open your mouth. He can’t help but rise to your bait, as derisive as you are; it’s only the smallest things, a sharpness to his otherwise even tone, an angry spark in his eyes, but you pick up on it all.
He’s not your only customer. You don’t extend your services to many, only to the people you want to—Yoongi’s not sure what set of harebrained criteria you have that lets you choose who you’ll sell to and who you won’t but he can’t make heads nor tails of it. He knows he’s not part of your clientele because he’s got the credits to pay, nor is it because he’s one of the most highly regarded hitmen in his line of business. 
You don’t just choose people who can afford to pay or people who have a level of power and influence in this dark underworld you inhabit. You really don’t care about those things. You just pick and choose on a whim.
(Once, back when he’d first met you, Yoongi had discovered that you’d concocted an entirely new security system—practically incapable of being hacked, crawling with tech, a level of complexity even the richest elites could barely afford—for some small artist who’d worried that their paintings might get stolen. He was an unknown at the time, this V, squirrelled away in one of the dark corners in the lowest levels of the city, and you’d all but given him some of the best work you’d ever done, undercharged him something chronic.
You’d shrugged when Yoongi had asked why.
“He makes me laugh,” you’d replied.)
Yoongi isn’t your only customer but he’s certainly the only one you seem to treat the way you do. There’s a level of irreverence in everything you do, self-confidence settled across every inch of you like the obnoxious stench of a teenage boy’s body spray, but you seem to take particular pleasure in Yoongi’s displeasure. He’d brought Namjoon along, once, inquiring after an imitation greenhouse, how someone might set up the tech to raise tropical plants that wouldn’t survive otherwise (mostly above board, even; Namjoon might grow illicit plants, poisonous and prohibited, but he likes pretty flowers, too). And there had been none of the mocking that Yoongi receives. None of the wind ups. You’d been pleasant, despite your incessant snark, agreeing to take the job with a smile on your face that Yoongi never gets given.
(It had been infuriating, to know that you’re capable of not being an ass, but you just choose not to be. For fun.)
Yoongi really, really doesn’t like you, but he respects your work. Respects you, even if he’d never admit it out loud.
You keep your word. You don’t supply his competitors, although you claim it’s not loyalty to him and it’s only because they can’t pay as well as he does—winnings go to the highest bidder, you’d said sagely, as obtuse and irritating as always. 
But Yoongi knows other sellers will provide anyone who’s willing to pay, freelancers who peddle their wares regardless of affiliation or alliances. You’re beholden to no one and yet Yoongi knows you would never double cross him. Never supply anyone who challenges his work, even if they have the money, even if he’s on good terms with them (it’s not personal, it’s business; Yoongi has no issue with other hired killers as long as they stay out of his way). He knows he can rely on you, which is something to be treasured in these back-crossing back-stabbing backstreets.
So when he makes his way to your door, the details of a new contract still fresh in his mind, he instantly comes to a stop.
There’s something off. He can tell immediately, years of instinct causing the hairs on the back of his neck to rise, every part of him on edge. Everything looks normal, is normal, but there’s a burning in his gut that has Yoongi’s finger itching for the trigger even though there’s nothing to shoot. 
You’ve granted him the privilege of access to your workshop, to the other rooms, entered the scans of his hand and eye and voice into the security systems, keep him updated on the varying passwords you cycle through, so he can enter whenever he needs to. 
(He’s woken you up on more than one occasion, roused you from sleep for last minute supplies before he leaves for another contract, appearing in the dead of night like a spectre of death, clothing dark and eyes darker, overflowing with weaponry. A looming silhouette edged in strokes of cyan and magenta from the ever present, low-level neon light in your room, so much darker than the bright lights of your workshop. Intimidating. 
And you always just roll your eyes and sigh and tell him to keep a better eye on his cache of equipment and climb out of bed for him. You’re so at odds to him in your sleep rumpled clothing and mussed hair, still unafraid even when he’s fully geared and ready to kill; shirt slipping off your shoulder, swathes of bare skin in the place of Yoongi's all-encompassing outfit, shimmering black light tattoos visible on your legs and arms and bare skin of your collarbones, geometric lines in the palest of blues and greens. You hand over whatever he needs and tell him the creds he owes you.
“I’ve already given you a key to my apartment and you haven’t even taken me for dinner once,” you sigh—dramatic and melodramatic—even as you hand over a bundle of crossbow bolts. The synthesised toxin inside the darts is your own concoction, of course, courtesy of the plant matter provided from Namjoon’s greenhouse.
“I’d literally rather be shot in the head than willingly spend time with you,” he replies.
“You wanna fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid,” you say, and just laugh in the face of his unimpressed deadpan. As insufferable as always.)
So he doesn’t need your permission to enter. He’s silent, light-footed as he makes his way inside, scanning each inch of this familiar interior; nothing’s wrong, not yet, but Yoongi can sense something in the air. Something heavy, settled bitter on his tongue, coating the back of his throat.
And then he walks into your workshop.
You’re meticulous. Even when you’re overrun with gear, with parts that have yet to be used, everything has its place. You prefer paper over datapads, too, tack sheets of designs and notes up on the wall, have clipboards and stacks of sheets set neatly in their place, a throwback to a time before tech ruled everything. Yoongi knows the layout of this room as well as he knows his own home, a mental map of straight lines and unwavering coordinates with you in the centre of it all.
Upheaval. Those neat lines of organised cartography have been pulled apart. Ham-handed work, to be sure, more of a statement than anything else; intent to instil fear rather than to destroy (although, Yoongi sees now that one of the monitors has been smashed, display sparking white and blue as it bleeds out electricity.). Even in the darkness of the room—overhead lights off and only emergency lighting on, painting things in shades of dark crimson and pink—Yoongi can tell that whichever interlopers have done this are already gone. The room is empty.
Then the sound of a clatter breaks the silence and Yoongi’s already got his pistol out, drawn without a thought as he approaches the sound that comes from the back room, fleet-footed and silent as he raises the gun and rounds the corner—
And sees you at the end of the barrel.
There’s a first aid kit on the floor. Packs of medi-gel and rolls of bandages and other supplies scattered around your feet. You haven’t even spotted Yoongi yet, in despair at the mess in front of you; he’s never seen you like this, never seen anything other than your veneer of enraging smugness and never-ending energy.
“Y/n?” 
You flinch even as your head snaps around, eyes wide—but the second you see Yoongi you visibly relax, even though he’s still holding a gun in your direction.
There’s a bruise blossoming across your left cheek.
“Ah, Yoongi.” The smile that paints itself across your lips is almost convincing despite the dark flower that’s unfolding on your skin, blood rising to the surface and painting it in hues of pain; you wince, a little, when the smile makes your wound ache. Soldier onwards as you act as though nothing is wrong. “I know you’re always desperate for my attention but do you mind giving me a second? I’m kind of indisposed at the moment.”
Yoongi’s lips are set in a thin line. He only has one question on his mind.
“Who did this to you?”
Your gaze flickers before you break eye contact, staring at the first aid supplies on the floor. “What, this? Have you never dropped something before?”
Yoongi ignores your deflection. It only takes a few moments to reholster the pistol, to step over to you, to grasp your chin and tilt your face towards him.
“Who did this to you?”
Yoongi’s tone is quiet and low, firm and undeniable. For the first time since he’s met you it seems as though you’re lost for words, lips parted around a silent sound of surprise as you’re subjected to the full force of Yoongi’s gaze, cutting through you; past every layer of self-inflated narcissism you put on, past every deflection you might make.
There's a beat of silence.
And then you slowly but irrevocably fold underneath the weight of his stare.
You let him lead you, sit you down, bowing to his hands and his directions. You’re silent throughout, lips an unfamiliar shape as they’re pulled down into the slightest of frowns. He’s only ever seen you smile, seen you laugh, self-assured. Never like this.
You seem surprised, startled when he sits across from you and cracks open a pack of medi-gel. Yoongi’s surprised too, although he doesn’t show it, lets his instincts take over and settles into auto-pilot as he reaches for your face. He’s never seen your eyes so round, so wide, watching the hand that descends on your cheek with all the single-minded intent of a man about to fillet a fish—careful and practiced but menacing, maybe. (He doesn’t like you but you don’t deserve to have been hurt and Yoongi can’t just stand by and not help.)
And you don’t shy away. You stare at him as he stares at his fingers, layers the gel evenly across the pain of your bruise, cool and soothing.
It’s only when he’s reached for more medi-gel and touched your cheek for the second time that you finally speak.
“It was one of the Tang cousins.”
Yoongi goes still, fingers resting across your skin, slick with purple gel. 
“One of the cousins?”
Yoongi doesn’t like you. But—and God knows what he did wrong in a previous life for this to be true—you’re one of his inner circle, one of the very, very few people he trusts. You’re not friends and he doesn’t like you, but he owes you, owes you a hundred times over, owes you for every successful kill, every silent infiltration, every averted detection. All thanks to your tech and the work you put into it for him. He’s indebted to you.
Yoongi always pays his debts.
“I didn’t even catch his name.” You sound dismissive. Normally you’d laugh, deride the person you’re speaking about, but instead you just sound tired. “One of the low down ones. New kid on the block; someone I didn’t recognise, with some lackeys or similar. Trying to make a name for himself, I think. He demanded that I build weapons for him. I said no.”
The Tang family is a big one, a criminal empire that has its tendrils dug in everywhere. You don’t deal with them, have no interest throwing your lot in with them intentionally or not; it’s a big, formidable family, but it’s not the only one around. You’d be dumb to get involved in that mess of generational, cross-family conflict. You’ll sell things to the highest bidder, shift illicit high-tech stock, build generic modifications that people can buy—but you don’t make bespoke weaponry for just anyone.
You don’t even sell to the heads of the Tang family directly, let alone to some back-alley sewer rat who probably barely has the faintest ties to the family, a single vein of Tang blood in his body, just enough to give him an in.
Whoever this cousin was he must be really fucking stupid to not know that. Stupid to think he could demand anything from you. Stupid to think he could hurt you when you laughed in his face and said no. Anyone with half a brain-cell should know not to fuck with you, know that it’s an honour to even be allowed inside your workshop, that to be told ‘no’ by you is a privilege.
Stupid to think that he wasn’t going to pay for that stupidity.
The pack of medi-gel is empty, the deflated pouch forgotten on Yoongi’s knee as he stares at you. The flecks of biomatter in the gel catch the light, sparkling like glitter in the lavender that’s seeping into your skin; all the surprise is gone from your eyes and instead you’re just watching him, stolid and steady. Analytical.
(You’re smart. Yoongi knows you are. For all that you talk shit and play foolish, he never forgets about that fierce intelligence. Never underestimates you or how perceptive you are. He only wonders what’s on your mind right now; what it is that you see in front of you.)
“Next time don’t let someone in unless you’re certain you’re going to sell to them.”
You scoff in his face. “Alright, Dad. Do you want to update my curfew while you’re at it? Make it ten p.m. instead of eleven?”
Yoongi blinks slowly. You’ve got both eyebrows raised, surveying him with a mixture of amusement and disbelief that he’s trying to tell you what to do (because no one tells you what to do; they wouldn't dare). But you don’t pull away, your knees still touching his, body bowed towards him from when he’d coaxed you closer so he could reach your face—so he knows you don’t mind. Not really.
(Knows you don’t care about anyone’s opinions or rules, only sticking to your own. The fact you’d been shaken from that place of confidence by some thug—even for a moment—doesn’t sit right in Yoongi’s belly. That bitter taste is back in his throat and it’s ice cold, icicles prickling through his blood.)
(He doesn’t like you but you’re one of his people and no one fucks with Yoongi’s people.)
The bruise is still there days later, after you’ve rearranged your workshop back to the way it was, sourced a new monitor to replace the one that was broken. You’re back to smirking, already ready for his request, more bullets for his weapons and super-charged plasma to recharge his sword, but the bruise is a stark reminder of what you’ve been through. So is, too, the new blueprint he spies half finished on your open displays: an automated security system that scans thermal signatures, guns unfolding from the ceiling whenever aggressive movement is detected from an unfamiliar person. Anyone who’s not listed as familiar in the security logs. 
(Yoongi used to wonder about that. Why you didn’t have security mechs set in place, programming their AI to protect you, but you don’t like to use mechs. Don’t like to use them, even if you could afford to build them, because you compare it to forced servitude. You’ve never needed them before now, anyway. Safe in your reputation, knowing that you’re in a position of power, that people come here because they know you’re the best of the best.)
(But it seems like you don’t trust that any more. Don’t feel safe.)
Yoongi keeps as silent as always, bites his tongue when you cut him off mid-sentence with nothing more than a raised finger.
“Ah, ah, ah,” you tut, wagging the finger back and forth like the slow pendulum of a grandfather clock. “No more crafting requests. I’m still working on the concentration mod you asked for and I’ll let you know when it’s ready. I don't rush for anyone. Patience is a virtue, baby. Did no one ever tell you that?”
“Don’t call me baby.”
“Okay, handsome.” Your reply is instant, unruffled, and Yoongi grits his teeth. 
But still. For all that you’re acting like normal, workshop set back into place, white lighting shining overhead, as neat and presentable as always—Yoongi can read uncertainty in the way you move. Discomfort. You don’t feel safe in your own space and it’s obvious, even if you don’t realise it.
“Come back any time,” you say coyly, and Yoongi, as always, ignores you. Transfers the creds he owes you in silence before he takes one last look at the bruise that’s still painted across your skin, dark eyes touching yours for the briefest moment before he turns and leaves.
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For the first time since you met, Yoongi buys from someone who isn’t you.
It’s not bad. Well made, decent tech, Predator pistol sitting easy in his hands when he brings it to the light and watches it unfold from its holstered state, the way plasma bursts to life in the barrel; weaker than bullets but easier to reload in the field. It’s no surprise that the Yeom family gets their stuff sourced from here. The body armour, too, isn’t bad, engraved with the family crest and cast in their colours.
It’s not bad, but it’s not as good as it could be. Not as good as Yoongi needs his tech to be, demands it to be—but quality doesn’t matter. Not today. He has a job to do.
It’s easy to find his mark. Scum gathers in stagnant water, in the dirtiest and dankest places, and this is where Yoongi finds Tang Lee. Finds him spilling beer and money in the backroom of some grimy strip club where the holograms flicker from age and the strippers are tired, trying their best to scrape a living from the seething riverbed of filth that runs underneath the bright neon lights of the skyscrapers in the levels above.
Lee isn’t alone but it’s so easy to take them out it’s laughable, men drunk from cheap alcohol; Yoongi catches one in a chokehold, smashes another’s face into the glass table with enough force it shatters, faces Lee once they’re the only two standing. The music outside is too loud and the room is sound proofed for privacy and so Yoongi isn’t interrupted as he brings Lee to his knees, thrusting his face into a smear of blood that drips from his now-broken nose, courtesy of a quick jab of Yoongi’s right fist.
It’s not a quick kill. It could be. Yoongi could have ended this in moments, caught Lee off guard and ended his miserable life almost effortlessly—but he doesn’t. He takes his time, makes it count, teaches him a lesson, has Lee on his hands and knees as he sobs out apologies and snivels for mercy before he takes the pistol and blows his brains out. Yoongi doesn’t feel sorry for the man, eyes the body impassively, not even worth his disgust—he only feels sorry for whoever finds the chaos of the room and the bodies inside, the distinct plasma burns he purposefully leaves in the wall with the Predator pistol, the entire scene he’s created here: a scuffle gone wrong, fast.
You’re not the only person Tang Lee has crossed but you’ll be the last. Yoongi checks the pulses of the other two men, finds one dead and the other still alive, barely, just like he’d planned—and his work is done. It’s the Yeom family’s problem now, any fall out from Lee’s death pointed at them, a repayment of a slight Lee had made to a Yeom supplier only a few weeks ago. (Yoongi wagers that neither family will care, will draw a veil over this moment and let this settle without raising arms, no one important enough to go to war over.)
He discards the pistol and armour once he’s done, incinerates it all, no interest in keeping subpar equipment. It’s not even worth dismantling for parts. Hoseok finds him in their basement, eyeing the blue flames that lick their way around the discarded armaments; he just watches Yoongi, inscrutable and calm as he eyes the blood on the clothing before it bursts into flames.
“Not a contract,” Hoseok says. (It’s not a question.)
“A job.” Yoongi replies, watches the cloth turn to ash through the thrumming display of the incinerator. “Something that needed to be done.”
He doesn’t tell anyone what he’s done. There’s no point in it. Yoongi decides something needs to be done and he’ll do it, whether that’s building a new chair for Jungkook after he broke his old one or killing a man who hurt you.
The next time he sees you your bruise is practically gone, faded into your skin. You’re intent on something on a monitor but when you notice him you turn, swivelling in your chair in one smooth motion as you lean back and put your hands behind your head, cross one leg over the other, dripping self-satisfaction, your smile sharp and full of teeth.
“Ah, Yoongi.” You look so smug that Yoongi has to resist the urge to roll his eyes. “Welcome, once again, to my laboratory. Is this visit for business or pleasure? Either way, you know I'm happy to oblige.”
“I’m here for the mod you promised me,” he says bluntly, and you just keep smiling, even as you hold out a hand for the sniper rifle, handling the D-2 Shadow with as much reverence as Yoongi does as you affix the mod.
It’s perfect, of course. All that Yoongi asked for and more. The software links with his eyepiece, biometric sensors that help him find his target, software to adjust to his pulse and breathing.
“You can even change the colour of the HUD,” you say, as if it’s some sort of buy-one-get-one-free offer, some fun little feature, rather than another helpful piece of software that you’ve created. Dismissive. An afterthought.
(You act like you take nothing seriously. Yoongi is your stark opposite, weighing everything in his hands and treating it with the level of attention it deserves, intent and focused.)
He’s staring down the scope when you speak once more. Light and easy, for once, rather than loud with your usual exaggerated exuberance or silken with unnecessary suggestiveness.
“I hear that they found a Tang family member dead.”
Yoongi just hums in response. Keeps his eye on the scope, wills the colour from dark green to white using the affinity link he has synced with his headpiece, watches the lines of the heads up display of the scope repaint themselves without even a single flicker, transition smooth and effortless. (Perfection.)
“It seems like the Yeom family did it,” you say, tone still conversational.
“Is that so.” Yoongi sounds disinterested, face impassive as he draws the gun away from his face, eye piece automatically folding away from his eyes. “Can I ask about other mods now that this one is finished?”
One of your brows rises, a perfect curve of discontent. “Say thank you first, Yoongi.”
Yoongi’s eyes cut into yours but you don’t back down, watch his blank face as he eventually says: “Thank you. Now I need more mods.”
You throw your head back as you laugh. “You’re insatiable,” you say, but you don’t say no. “What do you want now?”
(It’s not that you never say no to Yoongi. Because you have, and you do, and you will. But never because you can’t make what he asks for—and only because you refuse to make things that might endanger his safety, illicit bio-mods that other hired hitmen use, things that degrade the body from the inside out.)
Yoongi’s just holstered the Shadow, ready to go, when you speak one final time.
“Yoongi?”
He’s never heard you say his name like that, soft and quiet.
“Thanks.” You’re staring at him, regarding him steadily, solemn in a way that he’s never seen. You’re smiling, as always, but the expression is lightyears away from what Yoongi is used to—just the barest hint of an upturn to your lips.
Yoongi stares back at you. “I don’t know what you’re thanking me for.”
Your smile grows, a warm thing, unfurling like a flower. Almost affectionate. “Sure,” you say. “Of course. Silly me. Slip of the tongue.” And then, as if your brain’s only just caught up with what you just said, the smile turns salacious. “On the note of slipping the tongue—”
“Bye.”
Your cascading laughter follows him on his way out, cutting and shining with amusement. 
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Yoongi’s been getting more contracts. He’s finally buckled under Jungkook’s insistent whining and has agreed to get gear for him, too, to train him how to shoot. Hoseok has more than enough contacts in the underworld to get jobs for them both—he’s the most powerful information broker around, after all, sitting in the centre of a web he’s woven after years of work, all that sharpness and darkness hidden behind his deceptively bright smile.
(Yoongi’s lucky to consider him a friend and not an enemy.)
So that’s why he’s here with increasing frequency. That’s why he finds himself at your door more often than not. To get those orders in place, to make sure they’re progressing as fast as they need to.
You never react when Yoongi steps into your workshop. Well, you do, you lean into your hand and smirk at him, pursing your lips around each snide remark, each suggestive comment—but you never question his appearance. You just go with the flow, unbothered by his presence, even when there are other people there—other customers who eye him with unveiled curiosity and confusion (some Yoongi recognises, some he doesn’t, well-known faces and unknowns alike; none of them know who he is, though, unrecognisable as Agust D without his battle gear on). Yoongi keeps a close eye on their stances, any unchecked aggression or hostility towards you. Keeps a watch on the tension of your shoulders and spine, because of… habit. Battle instinct. Nothing else.
“You know my policy, Yoongi.” You’re analysing something in your hand. It looks like an antique spyglass, something from the decades before technology overtook the world, but it’s jammed full of tech; it doesn’t just magnify to a terrifying degree, it also amplifies sound, connected to an earpiece that’s sleek and easy to overlook. ‘A small project’, you’d called it, as if it isn’t something that people would pay a fortune to own. “If I’m making something for someone I have to meet them first. If you want me to make anything for this ‘JK’ then it’s not happening until you bring him here. Just like with your friend RM.”
Yoongi is lolling by your monitors, half-asleep in your chair (which had moulded to the shape of his body the second he sat in it, designed to be too comfortable for its own good). 
“I know you can’t pull yourself away from me,” you continue, glancing up from the scope. “But you have to spend time with your friends sometimes. I know they’re not as pleasing to look at as me—”
“Stop.”
You shift the spyglass to one hand and lean your chin on the other, regarding him with sharp eyes and an amused quirk to your lips. “I love that you think you can tell me what to do.”
Yoongi resists the urge to make a noise at the back of his throat, opting to keep mum instead.
He’s too tired to argue with you. He’d come straight after a contract, blood still on the edge of his sleeves (not his), watched the way your eyebrows had risen when you’d casually taken in the state of him before offering to wash his jacket. You know the reality of this world you both inhabit, operating in the shadows, survival paid for in blood; you might not be on the high ground, lining the shot up to take the kill, but you craft the trigger that Yoongi pulls.
(You might be aware of this reality but you’re far removed from it, shaken by violence on your own door. You never should have been faced with it. You’re an inventor; a creator. Not a killer. Not like Yoongi is. He’s not going to let that happen again. He doesn’t like you but you shouldn’t have been subject to pain—shouldn’t still have your motions edged with a held breath, as if you’re waiting for it to repeat itself. 
No matter how well you hide it, Yoongi knows that there's a part of you that's still scared.)
“I know you think you’re too important to need to remember things, but we’ve worked together for long enough that you know that I’d ask to meet JK first, Yoongi,” you say. “Did you really have to come straight after murking someone just to be reminded about that? Not complaining—you know I love seeing that pretty scowl of yours—but I just figured you’d rather be resting right now. Don't tell me the infamous Agust D missed me and decided to come here instead.”
“You were on the way.”
(He’d circled around, taken a longer route, descended into the familiar maze of the lower city. To throw off the scent of any potential pursuers. You just happened to be nearby, pure coincidence and convenience.)
You retract the spyglass, collapsing it in your hands. “Either you leave right now and go to your own place to sleep, or you’re going to sleep in my bed. Your choice.”
(If Yoongi took the time to think about it, really think about it, he’d notice that the words aren’t shrouded in suggestion or insinuation. Your brows are raised and you’re looking at him expectantly, waiting for him to decide what he’s going to do—unimpressed at how tired he is, how he’s come here instead of sliding into his own bed for the rest he so clearly needs.)
Of course, Yoongi leaves. He returns home without his jacket, strips his shirt off as soon as he’s in this safe place, this base, sheds pieces of his body armour as easy as anything (you’d designed it to be lightweight and easy to don and doff, the perfect defence for someone who relied on stealth and speed); he’s just removing the last greave when Hoseok appears, rapping his knuckles against the open door.
“You’re finally back.”
Yoongi looks up. Hoseok is dressed for work, Hope Broker persona in place, tailored suit that sits perfectly with the lines of his body, handsome and stylish and entirely put together. He oozes poise and power. Elegance.
“Yeah.” Yoongi lets the greave drop, silent as it falls to the floor. “Job’s done.”
Hoseok smiles. It’s a genuine one because it’s for Yoongi. “I know,” he says, even though scarcely any time has passed since Yoongi put a bullet in the back of the target’s skull. Nothing happens in this world of theirs without Hoseok finding out about it, always sooner rather than later. “Just wanted to check in and make sure you were okay.”
“All good.” 
“Good.” Hoseok is used to Yoongi’s blunt nature, his short responses when he’s tired. “Get some sleep.”
Hoseok’s elegant even as he adjusts his cufflinks. It’s just the briefest of moments, the crisp edge of his perfectly white sleeve contrasting with the shining silver, the design inlaid in them—but Yoongi recognises that design immediately.
Because it’s yours.
It’s the same emblem on each piece of his gear, small and understated, hidden away, easy to miss—but Yoongi knows it intimately. He doesn’t say anything. Lets Hoseok leave without a word. Each one of the men that Yoongi considers family, the tiny collection of people that stay in this same home as him, know that he only gets equipment sourced from you—but Hoseok had never mentioned that he’s been in contact with you, too. 
It’s not important. Hoseok might be his friend and a staunch ally but there’s plenty that he gets up to that none of the others are privy to, trading information to the highest bidders, head of a huge network that Yoongi can use to his advantage but isn’t technically a part of. The people Hoseok deals with—buys his information and resources from, keeps perfectly balanced in comparison to his own power—is his own business and not Yoongi’s.
Yoongi moves to gather his armour, the hardsuit he wears like a second skin, and spots that insignia that he knows so well branded into it. To have Hoseok wearing it at his wrist—the Hope Broker, renowned trader of secrets—is a statement. You could have made the cufflinks plain and unadorned. But you hadn’t.
When Yoongi climbs into bed that night, he finds that his sleep is restless.
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The smile on your face fades. “You know I don’t talk about business with other customers.”
Yoongi’s staring at you across your workbench, the light from its surface going dim as you take your hands off it, disassembled stun mine forgotten.
No one knows about his genuine friendship with Hoseok, but they do know that Agust D and the Hope Broker have an agreement; a professional working relationship. “I know the Hope Broker,” Yoongi says. 
Your eyebrows rise so far they seem to threaten to ascend into your hairline, you’re so incredulous. “Everyone does. What’s your point? Do you expect me to give you information about everyone you ask about? I get paid to keep people’s privacy, Yoongi. Do you think I sell the information of your equipment, how to dissemble every defence you have? Do you think I give your name out to everyone who asks?”
There’s no touch of amusement to the line of your lips, no sparkling irreverence in your eyes. You’re genuinely displeased.
“He’s wearing your symbol.”
You scoff. “You wear my symbol too. Why, are you jealous? Your armour has exactly the same technology. Better, even, because I can fit more tech in there.”
The cufflinks generate a kinetic barrier, then, a layer of invisible shielding that lays just atop Hoseok’s skin. But no one sees Yoongi’s armour; no one sees the workmanship of your weapons, no one except him. Your insignia isn’t emblazoned on his wrist for all to see.
Yoongi isn’t jealous.
“Hope is a powerful man,” you continue. “Everyone knows that. Even people who haven’t met him know that. Even people who aren’t sure he exists know that. If I want to sell to him then that’s my business.”
Everyone who’s anyone recognises your logo, no matter how rare it is to spot it (you only craft for a select few, after all). And Hoseok’s influence is far reaching and powerful; no one would dare cross him, dare to cross anyone who’s associated with him. 
“I’m looking for a new workshop.” You rise, moving away from your workbench to your monitors, touching a display with your fingers to bring it to life. Ignoring Yoongi’s presence, not even looking at him. “I haven’t got the space to modify the systems in this one as much as I want to. The walls are already full enough as it is. Do you know how hard it is to find somewhere with the specifications I need?”
Yoongi realises, then, why you’re doing this. The bruise is long gone and your skin is unmarred but you still don’t feel safe. You’ve always worked alone. Until now. Now you’re making moves to settle down, settle in, make a statement of allegiance to someone who can offer you a level of protection with their influence.
Someone who can offer you somewhere new, away from this inadequate place you’ve outgrown.
Hoseok laughs lightly when Yoongi asks about it, mentions it in passing as the two of them drink soju side by side, Hoseok in his suit and Yoongi girded in the armour under his unassuming clothes, both in the upper city for work; they stare down at the myriads of tall buildings and huge holo-boards and rainbow array of neon lights, far above the place they call home.
“Oh, yeah,” he says, utterly relaxed (and faintly amused). “I know you respect her work so I thought I’d reach out. I’m surprised she can make the things she does in that tiny workshop. You’re right; she’s very good.”
You are. The next time you meet, you give Yoongi his usual shipment and more besides, more than he’d ordered, reflected in the amount of creds he has to pay—because he won’t be able to just drop in for a while, your workshop dismantled and scraped empty in preparation for the move. Where to, he doesn’t know, but you say you’ll pass on the information once everything is up and running again.
“If you break any of your gear while I’m gone then you’re on your own,” you say. “I’m not shipping anything before my new workshop is finished.”
Two days later, Yoongi spies a new watch on Hoseok’s wrist. It looks low-tech, old style, metal strap and round clock face—but he sees the silhouette of your logo under those ticking hands and knows there’s more tech in there that meets the eye.
He looks away.
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It takes a week for the message to appear, encrypted: your new location. Levels above your former workshop, one of the higher strata of the lower city—still hidden and out of the way but away from the dirt and darkness. 
Yoongi goes. He finds the door panel, scans his palm, leans forward for the light to flit across his eye, murmurs a word, watches the door slide open. He’s already programmed in. New workshop, new security system, but he’s still allowed in, still one of the people you consider familiar, trustworthy. 
(He doesn’t know of anyone else who fits that category. Has only ever seen you manually allow people inside, granting your permission each time, rather than giving them free run of the place. No one has as many complex orders as he does, he’s certain. It’s for ease and practicality’s sake.)
He’s unfamiliar with the layout of this new building, first corridor already longer than he’s used to; he pauses for a moment but then hears something, faint—your laughter. Follows that sound, makes his way forward, through polished corridors with lines of light underfoot, leading him down some stairs and towards the sound of you.
Your new workshop is beautiful. There’s enough room in here for everything, no need for a backroom: a central worktable, benches lining the walls, tech displays built in, everything edged with lighting, dark surfaces shining bright, large floor panels underfoot emitting a low glow. Your former home had been that underground workshop and a locked door to a ladder to your micro apartment up top, tiny kitchen and single bed in a small room with a shower cubicle in the corner. Yoongi already knows that this building is far, far bigger, and you have more space than you’ve ever had before; you’d never been discontent with your smaller home, comfort from familiarity, until that comfort had been stripped from you.
You’re smiling. The snark woven into your words that Yoongi is used to is muted, light comment falling from your lips as you sit on that central table, perched on its edge. And Hoseok, he laughs, grinning so widely his teeth are on show—he’s wearing a suit but his jacket is resting on his shoulders, tie undone and cast around his neck. A stance of relaxation, one Yoongi’s never seen from him, not when he’s working. Not when he’s The Hope Broker and not Hoseok.
He’s still smiling when he notices Yoongi, the two of you looking over when the hitman speaks.
“Didn’t expect to see you here, Hoseok.”
That ever-present smirk freezes on your face for a split second, eyes widening at the sound of Hope’s real name. Hoseok just takes it in stride, his smile not dimming even for a second.
“Hey, Yoongi.” His greeting is as warm as it always is. “Just checking in. Have to make sure everything is up to scratch. What’s the verdict?”
You’ve hidden your surprise, wiped it off your face, eyes on Hoseok as you answer him. “It’s perfect.” A pause. “I take it you two know each other?”
“Sure. Yoongi is an old friend of mine.” Hoseok is still smiling, looking at Yoongi with creased eyes. Unafraid of revealing this information to you, still at ease despite the tension that’s bubbling in the air, Yoongi’s impassive face. Hoseok is always an unshaken pillar of positivity. “I didn’t realise he was coming. Am I interrupting an appointment?”
You stare at Yoongi. “No, you’re not. I wasn’t expecting anyone.”
(You’d sent the message less than an hour ago. Yoongi had taken one look at the address, memorised it, pulled on his jacket and headed out; clearly you hadn’t anticipated how fast his arrival would be.)
“A happy coincidence, then.” Hoseok sounds like he genuinely means it, is pleased to see Yoongi here, his smile unwavering. There’s a languid set to his body, the easing line of his spine, hands in his pockets. A glittering in his eyes. (No one ever gets the drop on Hoseok, never surprises him, catches him off guard, no matter what they do.) “But I’ll let you conduct your business and we can catch up another time.”
He takes a hand out of his pocket as he walks past Yoongi, pats his shoulder amicably. His palm is relaxed against the tense set of Yoongi’s shoulders before he ascends the stairs and disappears out of sight, the sound of his polished shoes fading until he’s gone, one of the monitors on the wall flickering to indicate the front door is shut once more.
You’re still staring at Yoongi. The atmosphere had been heavy, even with Hoseok there—and now that he’s gone there’s nothing to alleviate that pressure, nothing to dissolve the strange twist to the air.
“Who,” you start, measured but sharp, “do you think you are?”
Yoongi returns your stare, looks back at you with his dark eyes. Doesn’t respond to your question; an unnecessary, unprompted thing, razor-edged for a reason he can’t discern. 
“Can’t you hear me?” You slide off the table, stalk towards him. “I said—” you raise a hand— “who? Do? You? Think? You? Are?”
You emphasise each word with a sharp jab to Yoongi’s chest, driving your finger forward with so much force it must hurt. You keep it in place, keep it dug into the centre of his ribcage. There’s no laughter hidden in the corner of your lips. He’s annoyed you again, somehow, a familiar guest turned unwelcome interloper.
“You say that you know Hope and yet I just watched you treat him like dirt.” Your eyes are piercing, cutting through the soft frame of your curled lashes, boring straight into him. “You come into my workshop as if you’re meant to be here; like there’s something you’re owed. Do you want me to treat you like a child, send you to your room? Not let you back in here? Because I will.”
“You sent me your address,” Yoongi points out.
You let out a bark of laughter. “Please.” Your hand drops back to your side and you turn, stepping away. “I’ve sent this address to all my business associates. I can’t sell or buy unless people can find me. You’re the only one who’s taken this as an invitation to just turn up and waltz in. At least when Hope turns up he warns me beforehand. Oh, and he doesn’t say stuff like he’d rather blow his own brains out than be forced to see me. I know you just love being contrary but has it ever occurred to you to be more polite to people? You’d make a terrible waiter. You’d get fired on your first day.”
You’re in front of one of your cabinets. You reach inside for something, hefting it in your hands before returning, handling it in a way that’s completely unceremonious, dropping it to the bench at his side like you want to be rid of it. Like you don’t even want to hand it directly to him, to interact with him. “There. Nothing but a pleasure doing business with you, Yoongi, even if your customer service still needs improving.”
It looks like a flat, hexagonal panel, the same colour and material as his armour. Something to be locked into it, wired in, trailing veins of unattached tech spilling from it. He’s seen you working on this for a while, seen you draw up blueprints with a bruise fresh on your cheek, seen it turned in your hands as that mark had faded and left your skin. 
It’s not something he ordered.
“What is this?”
You wave a dismissive hand. “Auto medi-gel distributor. It syncs with your armour and senses when you’ve been hurt and disperses gel in the affected area. Your armour’s always been too lightweight to have extra mods on but I’ve been working on this for a while.”
It’s an astonishing piece of tech. Usually one that’s reserved for heavier armour, restricting and hard to move in but easier to mod—but this thing is slim, compact, the same technology crammed into a smaller package without losing any of its punch. He doesn’t know what materials you’ve had to use to circumvent this, the level of tech you’ve layered into this, the amount of time and thought you’ve put into this.
“How much is it?”
The wrong thing to say. The smile that spreads itself across your lips is an echo of its usual curve, brittle and flaking around the edges, a baring of teeth.
“It’s a gift, Yoongi. Usually when someone does something for you, you return the favour.” Your lips are still upturned but your eyes are unsmiling even when your tone seems whimsical and light. You’ve got on your usual flippant façade, but there’s a pointed undercurrent to it. “You know, I don’t understand you at all. You remind me that you don’t like me but then you always hang around. You kill someone who threatened me and pretend that you didn’t do it. You say you don’t like me, but I thought you at least respected me, and yet here you are. Lying to me and treating me like I'm a fool.”
“I do respect you,” Yoongi says. 
(Because he does, and as much as he would hate to inflate your ego, he doesn’t shy away from telling the truth.)
“Sure you do.” An unimpressed eye-roll, cutting under his words, knocking his feet out from underneath him. You don’t care to believe him. “This is my fault for not treating you the same as all my other business associates.  Next time you come in you’ll have to have an appointment, just like everyone else. It’ll minimise the amount of time we have to spend together.”
Yoongi doesn’t like you. He finds, though, that he likes the sound of this even less; finds it pulling at his brows, his mouth, impassive expression turned to one of disapproval.
And his mouth opens. The word falls from his lips before he has a chance to think—years of battle intuition, years of following instinct, moving as he needs to in the moment.
“No.”
A raise of the brows. A purse of the lips. Incredulous. “No?” you parrot it back, mocking. “Oh, okay, sure. Never mind. You’re welcome to come in whenever you want and act like you have free rein of the place. There’s nothing I enjoy more than your scowling presence.”
Sharp tongued, sharp eyed, narrowed at him: a confrontation. For all that you needle him you never mean it, really (even if it’s still infuriating, aggravating). But right now? Right now each of your words is barbed, your sarcasm a defence, an offence. You’re running your mouth not just to rile him, but to ward him away. 
“You’re really not as smart as you think you are, Min Yoongi.” You wield his name like a weapon. “You tell me right now why I should listen to you. What do you come here for? And don’t say it’s for my work because it stopped being just that a long time ago. And if it is just for my work then take it and go. Then I’ll take you off the security system and we’ll only see each other as much as is strictly necessary. In fact, you could pass your orders along via Hope—then we won’t have to even see each other at all. ”
“And then he’ll be the only one allowed free rein?”
It comes out before he’s even really thought about what he’s saying, which isn’t like him at all. Yoongi is two parts: pure, honed instinct, and careful, wary vigilance. He’s not like you, saying the first thing that comes to mind—not normally, anyway—but the words jump from his lips, from some near-silent part of him that balks at the idea. Of Hoseok stepping into your space the way that Yoongi does, appearing without warning, to be greeted with a curled smirk and glittering eyes.
“You’re a fucking idiot if you think that you’re not the only person with security clearance. My God. You’re infuriating. Seriously? I didn’t realise you were genuinely this dense. You’re the only one I’ve ever allowed in without prior agreement.” You emphasise this statement with another jab to his chest, your finger a sharp knife that cuts into him as you stab it forwards.
He catches your wrist. His grasp is firm but there’s no pressure to it; doesn’t squeeze, doesn’t tighten his fingers, just holds you in place. You’re staring at him with a challenge in your eyes, one that he finds himself rising to match, never one to back down.
“Is that so?”
Your hand unfurls, fingers splayed across his chest; he’s still holding your wrist, shifting with your movement. “Don’t be obtuse.” An irritated exhale. “Normally you complain whenever I talk and now you’re trying to get me to repeat myself. Again with the inconsistency, Yoongi. Make up your mind.”
He could do what you do whenever you’re feeling particularly aggravating. Play dumb, ask more questions, drag out the interaction until you’re bordering on snapping—but he doesn’t. He looks at the set of your jaw, the way you’re staring at him. Unflinching. You’ve never been scared of him, and you aren’t now, not with how he’s got a hold of you, how close he is to you.
He toes the line. Shifts closer. Notes the way your pupils dilate, how the tips of your fingers dig into the fabric of his shirt; how the air grows heavier, a frisson of electricity crackling through it. Yoongi doesn’t like you, but he likes that feeling—how the tension in the air shivers from indignation into something different.
Because you’re still staring at him, and there’s still that hard set to your jaw, but there’s not just anger in your eyes. There’s that warm thing he’s grown used to seeing, smouldering in near silence until he’d coaxed it to full flame, thrown gasoline onto the coals when he’d shot plasma into the back of Tang Lee’s skull. He’d protected you even though he hadn’t needed to, doesn’t need to, but does anyway—because he trusts you and there’s no one else he trusts to keep you safe.
And there’s no one else you trust, either.
“You talk too much,” Yoongi says, like he so often does—but there’s no irritation in it, touched instead with a simmering heat, the faintest edge of a bite.
You tilt your head. There’s a provocation etched into the twist of your mouth, the way your lips lift. Because no matter how much you needle him, dig your fingernails into every crack of his armour and twist—no matter how annoying you are, how angry you make him—you know that he’s not mad. Not really. Not in a way that makes you afraid, but in a way that thrills you, makes you want to see him snap, to wipe away that level facade he maintains.
“Maybe you should shut me up, then,” you reply, a murmur. A challenge.
A beat. Yoongi’s fingers tighten around your wrist. A warning.
And in response?
You just smile.
The way your eyes widen just seconds later is delicious, though, when Yoongi lets go of your wrist—because he’s moving faster than you expected. Your surprise melts into delight, a spark of glee that says you’ve gotten exactly what you want when Yoongi threads his fingers in your hair, tilting your head back to bare the column of your throat. He holds you firmly in place, crowds you back against the workbench so hard its edge must be digging almost painfully into your back but not once does that glee dim, written over every line of your smile, eyes bright and teeth sharp.
Yoongi likes to take things slow. There’s the part of him that never steps into a situation without knowing every angle, every escape route, each one of his kills planned meticulously. But, he thinks, the two of you have been waiting long enough, and he’s never been patient around you—has found his composure worn thin faster than anywhere else, by anyone else. It’s this part of him, frayed into non-existence by you, that rises to the surface now, makes him move as quick as he does.
And you respond just the way he knew you would. When he presses his mouth to yours you kiss him back like you have a point to make (you always do), fast and almost reckless, all lips and teeth and tongue. There’s no finesse to it. When he presses his tongue into your mouth you part your lips so prettily, let him take his fill, slide your tongue against his and tilt your head to get even deeper—and just like always, you're vocal, letting out small noises that are caught and muffled in the kiss, lust filled. But when you try to nip at his lip with the edge of your teeth Yoongi tightens his grip in your hair and swallows down your gasp before he pulls away, holding you in place so you can’t chase after his mouth. Your lips are kiss swollen and under the bright lights above they shine, slightly parted, pupils blown as you stare at him. 
(You look good like this.)
Your eyes slide shut when Yoongi lowers his lips to your neck, across your throat. There’s nothing gentle about it. He moves with single-minded intent, lips and teeth harsh against your sensitive skin—and you take it all, little sounds falling from your lips as Yoongi drags his teeth towards the hollow of your neck. And when he takes his hand from your hair, takes both hands and digs his fingers into your waist and lifts you, you go so easily; a mimicry of your earlier position when he’d stepped in, perched on the edge of the table. Legs spread so Yoongi can stand between them. He’d be surprised at how pliant you are if it wasn’t so obvious that this is exactly what you want: lifting your hips so he can strip your lower half bare. 
Your bare thighs press against the surface of the workbench, tech displays coming alive under your body heat. You’ve shrugged your cropped jacket off and you’re just reaching for your top when Yoongi stops you; splays a hand in the centre of your chest and presses you back, slow but undeniable. You’re not the one setting the pace. He is. He’s the one in control, with you spread out in front of him, only a thin layer of fabric keeping you from being completely bare—thin cotton underwear, dark and damp between your legs, betraying your arousal.
“Wet,” Yoongi murmurs.
Your retort stutters on your lips when he drags his fingers upwards over your slit, barely dulled by the material in the way. “No shit,” you say, and then suck in a breath when he presses the pad of his thumb across your clit.
It’s no good, the fact you’re still talking. But that’s okay. Yoongi’s planning on changing that.
It’s lewd, the way your legs are spread, parting further at the urging of his hands. Your hands slide across the bench, papers scattering, palms flat on the work surface and white light shimmering on dark blue in reaction to your touch; an unnecessary distraction that you both ignore. There’s nothing graceful about this, the peel of underwear away from your core, already slick even with the barest of attentions; he drags his fingers down the inside of your thighs, all that soft skin, and then under, urging your hips up and towards his mouth. No foreplay to this foreplay, no dragging out this moment—he bites at that soft skin of your inner thigh, sinks his teeth into it and listens to the way you gasp in surprise—and before you have a moment to ground yourself, he presses his mouth to your cunt.
You’re wet and warm under his tongue and the smell of you surrounds him, musky and heavy, and he feels how your entire body goes tense as you arch your back. He’d normally take his time with this, have you strung out and begging, but he has different plans today—knows exactly what he wants from this, sucking your clit between his lips and feeling your thighs tighten around his head, legs slung over his shoulders as he listens to the way you moan. Each sound shudders out from your mouth like you tried so desperately to keep it in but couldn’t help it. Yoongi loves eating pussy anyway but this is even better, the way all your witty ripostes die in your throat before you can shape them on your lips, turned into breathy gasps instead. 
The taste of you fills his mouth and it’s so fucking good. You’ve been watching him, how his head moves between your legs, but he can tell you’re close; you’ve given up, eyes shut as you lean into the sensation building up in you, and Yoongi thinks he likes you better like this. Forced into speechlessness under his hands and tongue. Your pretty mouth softened from sharpness into urging noises of pleasure. He slides one arm across your stomach and holds you in place, a hard line that you can’t overpower and you’re left squirming in place, hips trying to kick up each time he draws his tongue over your slit, every part of you sloppy with your own arousal and Yoongi’s spit, flushed and lovely. One of your hands is in his hair and you’re pulling, pulling hard, unaware of how tight your grip is as you try to buck your hips and sob. 
You’re so sensitive, and it only takes one, two fingers pressing into you and curling just right as Yoongi slides his tongue over your clit before you’re cumming, hot around his fingers as you come apart all wet and messy. He’s never seen you so undone, back arched as you ride out your orgasm, hair swept away from your forehead as you throw your head back. Keeps his mouth open on you, feels you under his tongue, until you’re flopped on your back and your chest is heaving, legs untensed and loose over his shoulders.
You shift an arm. Your fingers barely brush the medi-gel mod you’d made him, a loose sheet of paper sliding away and joining the others on the floor.
“Just moved in and it’s already a mess,” Yoongi says, and he doesn’t just mean the paper; fingers and chin and mouth covered in your slick, your core soaked. He’s still knuckle deep and when he curls his fingers again your entire body jolts, your mouth parting almost wantonly before you seem to struggle back to reality, surfacing from a haze of arousal and post orgasmic bliss.
“That’s your fault,” you say, voice weaker than usual. “I’ll send you the cleaning bill.”
“Mm. Not my fault you’re a messy girl.”
“Fuck you.” The blunt words are softened by your breathlessness, your bonelessness; the way your breath catches in your throat when he calls you a messy girl, even if you try to hide it. Trying not to let him in on exactly how much power he holds in this moment. 
“I was planning on it,” Yoongi says, as calm as ever, even if arousal is simmering through his veins and gathering in his gut—has been this entire time, the taste of you on his tongue and the heat of you under his lips and the sound of you in his ears. “Want to make your workshop even messier?”
You dig your balls of your feet into his back, legs still over his shoulders. His fingers shift inside you and you shiver. “I don’t think so,” you say. “Bedroom.”
“So you’re giving me a tour, then?”
You don’t dignify him with a response, although the noise you make when he finally pulls his fingers out of you is more than enough to satisfy him. He’s still fully dressed and you’re only half so, and it would be comical if the sight of your bare legs and slick on your inner thighs wasn’t so hot, barefoot on the glowing and pristine (papers notwithstanding) floors as you reach for his hand and lift it to your lips, sucking his fingers into your mouth and licking your arousal off his fingers with your tongue, warm and wet, before you grab his wrist and pull. 
He watches the movement of your hips as you lead him, your bare ass. Shameless as ever. Confident in yourself, even now. It’s not until you’ve stepped over the threshold and into your new bedroom that your tattoos become visible, as bright as the low lights in the room, those geometric lines and stylised circuitry on your legs shifting as you step forwards.
Even with the relative darkness Yoongi immediately notices something. Cast over the back of a chair near the bed, there’s his jacket, blood stains at the edge of the sleeves gone. Cleaned. Yoongi shifts his hand so you don’t have your fingers wrapped around his wrist any more. Instead he’s the one shackling you, holding you in place as you look over your shoulder.
“Were you ever going to return that to me?” He tilts his head at the chair. 
You pause. Glance over. Look back at him, all amusement and provocation, recovered from your earlier breathlessness. “But Yoongi, I get so cold.”
There’s something about the idea of you in his clothes, clothes that you know he’s worn when he’s been getting his hands dirty—he ignores the curl to your lips and moves you towards the bed, ignoring the sound of your self satisfied laughter when he reaches for your shirt and pulls, with you lifting your arms to help him, grinning at him the whole time. Even when he’s thrown your bra aside and kicked his boots off and pushed you onto the mattress, trapped you underneath him, completely naked against his completely clothed body you’re still smiling, like the cat who got the cream.
You’re stunning. There’s no doubt about it. You always have been, annoyingly so, even when Yoongi’s wanted to wring your neck; not just because you’re pretty but because you’re intelligent and confident and in control, staring up at him without a lick of fear or concern, even now. Never with him, never. He can see your tattoos in all their glory, nothing hidden away from his gaze; he sees one he hasn’t been able to see before, a sunflower bursting across your ribcage, curved under the swell of your breast, glowing red and orange in the midst of all your other cyan and teal lines, glowing in the black light. He’s pressing you down, trapped under his body, and you’re just waiting. Waiting and still smiling, smirking, letting him take you in, preening under his attention.
He wants to eat you alive.
So he does just that. Shifts back down the mattress on his knees, keeping his hands on you, pulling his hands down the easing lines of your ribs and waist and hips, before a firm tug has you lifting up—your smug facade shakes when you’re left with only your shoulders and head against the bed, the rest of your body pulled towards Yoongi’s waiting mouth once more, held in place with fingers that dig into your hips, thighs soft against his ears, your hands scrabbling at the linen underneath you when Yoongi’s lips press into the crease of your thigh, off balance.
“Safeword?” He murmurs into your skin, and you pause.
“Hoseok,” you answer, and Yoongi responds by biting into your thigh again, soothing it with his tongue when you squeal.
“Shameless.”
You’re still wet from before, slick with cum, and Yoongi doesn’t hesitate before he dives back in. He can hear more than he can see the way your fingers curl into your sheets and rumple them in your hands, anchored helplessly into place by Yoongi’s mouth and the fingers cupped under your ass, digging into the soft skin, undignified and at his mercy. 
“Yoongi!” You gasp, almost a whimper as a breath gets caught in your throat. “Y-Yoongi—”
You’re so helpless like this. It’s a little hard for Yoongi to breathe, your legs tightening around him, but it’s worth it for the way he can see you shaking apart. He presses his tongue as deep into you as he can, sucks your swollen pearl between his lips and circles it with his tongue, notices the way you jolt at those wet kisses, still sensitive from before, and he doesn’t let up. Keeps going and going and going until you’re gasping for air, sensations rippling through your body as you buck and writhe; you’re trying to keep yourself together, he can tell, but you’re unravelling, smirk wiped off your face and your mouth in a pretty little circle whenever you choke out oh, oh.
You cum faster than he expects, shoulders lifting away from the mattress as you arch your back so far it must hurt and tighten your legs and he feels the way your pussy throbs under his tongue, practically gushing when you reach your peak. Your eyes are unfocused when they flutter back open but you’re reaching for him, for the waistband of his trousers, trying to touch the hard length of his cock—he’s been ignoring it, how he’s leaked so much precum he can feel how wet it is in his boxer-briefs.
He keeps ignoring it now. He catches your hands, stops you in place, stares you down with an unimpressed tilt to his brows.
“What,” he says levelly, “do you think you’re doing?”
“Want you in my mouth,” you say. You seem almost desperate for it, fingers flexing in his hold, letting your tongue linger against your lips longer than necessary. “I want your cock in my mouth, Yoongi.”
He tightens his grip around your wrists. And then, for the first time all night, he smiles.
“No.”
You look stunned. Just for a moment. Then you’re squirming in his hold, but you’re trapped, nowhere to go. “What do you mean, no?”
Yoongi’s still smiling, mirroring the self satisfaction that had been written all over your face earlier. “I mean no. You don’t get what you want. You get what you’re given.”
There’s nothing he’d like more than to sink into that wet heat, to see your smart mouth put to good use, lips spread over his cock, but this is better. Seeing the genuine frustration and disbelief written across your features. 
He doesn’t give you time to line up another angered retort on your tongue. Doesn’t give you time to breathe before he’s flipping you over, the wings of your shoulder blades and curve of your spine emphasised by the lines that are traced symmetrically and shining across your skin. They shift when you move, hips lifted from the mattress by Yoongi’s hands, on your hands and knees as he fumbles his waistband and zipper and pulls his cock free. He’s painfully hard, flushed head with precum that beads at the tip, and when he tugs you back he watches the way the head drags across the curve of your ass, leaving a shining line of wetness on your skin.
And when he sinks into you he barely gives you time to adjust, barely has time to adjust himself, to all this hot tight wetness after his cock’s gotten no attention at all—you let out a moan that almost sounds like you’re singing, long and high with pleasure, the slide eased from all your cum.
 You take it so well, always so good to him no matter how irritating you are, so lost in the sensations that you don’t say anything about the hard edges of Yoongi’s clothes whenever he drives his hips forward and it presses into the soft skin of your thighs. It’s messy and choppy and fast and you slump onto your elbows, entire body shaking as you take everything Yoongi is giving you. Caged underneath him when he follows you forwards, presses his front to your back, feels the way the sweat on your skin is caught against the fabric of his clothes. Grinds his hips deep and feels the way you gasp, sucking in a shaking breath, your entire body lost in it. He bites his lip and keeps his own sounds caught behind his teeth, not letting you know how you’re pulling him towards his own edge.
He’s not done with you yet.
Your clit is slick under his touch when he lifts his fingers to touch you, to layer another sensation on top of the cock inside you, and you’re sobbing. You don’t ask him to stop, never know when to quit, face every challenge thrown at you—and Yoongi can tell that you love it even if your body is crying out, that you love this oversensitivity, pulled taut and strung out. You’re beyond speech, words slurred, barely recognisable as his name and pleas of more, please, more. He can feel when you’ve crested the wave of too much sensation and fallen back into that rippling sea of pleasure, and when you cum it’s with a soundless moan, mouth wide open but no noise escaping. No more sharp retorts, no smart words, fucked into incoherency, trembling and quivering as you go tight around him and Yoongi struggles not to lose himself then and there, in your scorching, wet cunt, fluttering around him.
The noise when he pulls out is slick and lewd, just like all the other noises that have been filling the room, the slap of skin on skin temporarily halted when Yoongi rolls you onto your back. There’s sweat beading on your skin, shimmering, tears gathering in the corner of your eyes and glistening like tiny jewels in the multi-coloured low light of this room. Your lips are parted and your gaze is bleary and you’re everything Yoongi has never seen from you before, fuzzy and quiet, entirely pliant. When he reaches for you again, runs his hands over the rise of your hipbones and down the side of your thighs, you whimper.
“One more,” Yoongi says. “One more, you can give me one more.”
You’ve never known when to quit, and now is no different, even if you’re on the verge of being entirely fucked dumb. Those tears pool in your eyes and stream down towards your hairline, but you let Yoongi move you, try to help by lifting your hips but almost too gone to move at all. Yoongi almost cums when he sinks into you, your willing body; he thinks you’ve never looked better than you do now, smelling like sweat and sex and so soft under his hands, taking his cock like you were made for it, and you’re so gorgeous when you’re falling apart. 
The attitude you wear normally—the one that chafes at Yoongi’s nerve-endings—has been entirely wiped away, forced out of you by mindless pleasure. But still, you know what you want, even now, even when you’re barely coherent—Yoongi feels your hand slide across his and pull weakly, guiding it across your chest and up, circling his fingers around your neck.
He swears. Snaps his hips forward hard, watches the way your eyes roll back when he gives an experimental squeeze around your throat. Yoongi’s choked people before, knows exactly how much pressure to give, how much it takes to cut someone’s airways completely or how to just leave them reeling; he lets you linger on the edge of breathlessness, feels the way you go tight around him. When you orgasm it rips through you, your thighs tightening around Yoongi’s hips as you hit your peak and cum hard, and the feeling of it has Yoongi cursing and bending forwards to shove his face in your neck and kiss the salt-sweat taste he finds there as he falls off the edge. He cums wet inside you, keeps rolling his hips through it all, lets his cum mix with yours and watches the way you just keep taking it, even when your whole body is trembling from how much it is.
And when Yoongi calls you a good girl, you don’t snap back like you normally would, don’t deride his praise. You bask in it, as tired as you are, letting out a soft noise when he pulls his softening cock out of you, unbothered by the wet patches on your sheets and how the whole room stinks of sex. When he moves to lift you, to get you clean, you go easily and without argument, every one of your honed edges dulled, and you make no move to sharpen them again, to drag them over Yoongi in the way he’s so familiar with by now. Even when you’ve lifted out of your haze and you’re back in the moment, the way you watch Yoongi is no less calm than normal, but still different.
“Stay.”
He’s in the middle of reaching for his boots, discarded on the floor, a discordant note on the clear floor. You’re wearing clean underwear and a loose t-shirt and you’re looking at him with something verging on surprise, like you hadn’t expected to see him moving to pull his shoes back on to leave.
He hadn’t been planning to.
“Just moving them out of the way,” says Yoongi, putting them upright by the base of your chair, and then he makes his way back to you. You don’t attempt to hide your pleasure that he’s listened to you,  pulling him onto the bed despite the fact he’s still dressed.
“I don’t cuddle,” he says, even as you tuck yourself into the crook of his arm, and he shifts to make it more comfortable for you.
You press your face into the hollow of his neck, touch your nose against his throat, breathing in the smell of sweat that still lingers—because you’re shower soft and fresh but he isn’t, and weirdly enough, you seem to enjoy it. Seem to enjoy that contrast, the one that’s always existed between you, Yoongi immersed in blood and sweat and tears while you’re away from it, one degree of separation from it all. “You know, I like it when you do things for me.”
Normally he’d protest, say that he doesn’t do things for you, but the truth is that he does, even if he’s only just admitting it to himself. 
“Like that time you killed someone for me,” you say, and Yoongi’s fingers tighten, soft skin of your waist yielding under his touch.
“I kill a lot of people.”
You let out a laugh against his skin, quietly amused. “Just admit it. You like me, Min Yoongi.”
A pause. 
Then: “Against my better judgement, I do.”
And he does. Even if you’re irritating and maddening, he does like you, and not just because of the work you do for him. He thinks that even if you weren’t so good at your job that he’d find himself here anyway, caught in this push and pull you have, magnetised.
“No need to sound so begrudging,” you say, but there’s no real annoyance behind your words. 
Yoongi finds that he likes that note in your voice, like you’re indulging him and his stubbornness and you’re unmoved by it. He hums in response. Feels the way you shift back, lean on your elbows to look down at him, lips curled up at the corners.
“Kiss me.”
Not a question. A demand. Yoongi stares you down, just for a second, before he lifts a hand and weaves a hand back into your hair, tilting your mouth against his. He can feel your self satisfied smile against his lips and he doesn’t mind it at all, sees it spread across your face when you eventually pull back, all flushed lips and warm eyes.
You’re still sharp, a weapon in your own right, but you willingly hand yourself over to be held in his skilled hands, let yourself be worn smooth by his touch. He weaves his fingers between your own, your palm soft and warm against his, and he likes this. That you’re unafraid of what he is, that the fact he’s a killer isn’t something that scares you or thrills you.
Yoongi likes your work. He likes that he knows he can trust you. He likes that he knows of your loyalty, to the people you choose and to yourself, your unwavering principles, as unpredictable as they might seem. He likes that you’re unashamed to be yourself and to be confident, no matter how people react to that cockiness. 
What he likes even better than all that is this, though: the way you’re pressed against his side, evidence of his touch written into your skin. The feeling of your hand in his. Despite all the odds, all the months of drawn out and simmering exasperation and tension coming to a head like this, Yoongi likes you.
“I’m not going to give you a discount, you know,” you say suddenly, and for the first time since you met, Yoongi allows himself to laugh at you.
“I’d be offended if you did.”
(You’re loud. Cocky. Arrogant. You love to irritate him just for the hell of it, because you think it’s funny and you love knowing that you can rile him up—but he can rile you up too, and you both know it.
Yeah. Yoongi likes you.)
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tagging: @beyoncesdragon @vensulove @gyukult  @swinginpicklesuitcaseapricot @kpopheart2 @loveyoongles @muzikabijou  @katbonv @jaxx-7 @yeojaa
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fluffyydumplings · a day ago
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The Day I... 
Part 1
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Pairing: exgirlfiend!reader x exboyfriend!seokjjn
Genre: angst / established relationship / breakup!au
Summary: From the very beginning you knew it had to end. But you stayed.. Because you loved him.. And he loved you. Time isn’t a lenient being though and all of a sudden the dream you’ve desperately wanted is right under your nose. So, when you were asked to choose between the two.. You gave up on him. Looking back, you wish you didn't.
Word Count: 523 words
Warning: breaking up / miscarriage / vomiting / fainting / crying / unexpected pregnancy
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Series Masterlist
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The day I broke up with him, I threw my bracelet at him.
It ripped into pieces, and he looked in horror at the beads scattered all over the floor.
'That’s our bracelet,’ he mutters to himself.
‘Not anymore,’ I tell him.
The day I broke up with him, I ran up the stairs and packed up all my things.
‘Don’t go..’ he gets down on his knees and plead.
‘I have to.. I can’t stay here anymore..’ you refuse to give in to his cries.
The day I broke up with him, I left my heart behind.
‘Are you really going?’ he doesn’t have the courage to look into your eyes.
‘Yes.. This is what I’ve always wanted.. And you’re in the way,’ you touch his face one last time.
The day I broke up with him, I didn’t dare to look back.
‘No.. No.. Don’t,’ you hold in your tears.
‘This is it..’ you try convincing yourself.
The day I broke up with him, I threw my luggage into the boot of the car as tears streamed down my cheeks.
‘Here we go,’ you start the engine.
‘Goodbye Jin,’ you drive out and onto the main road.
The day I broke up with him, I arrived at my new apartment with mascara smeared all over my face.
‘I’m so stupid..’ you collapse onto the bed.
‘So.. So.. Stupid,’ you bury your head into the pillow.
The day I broke up with him, I couldn’t eat or sleep.
‘Blarghhhh..’ you vomited your guts out, wiping your mouth with a paper towel.
‘Shit..’ you cussed.
The day I broke up with him, I found out I was carrying his child
‘This must be broken..’ you tossed the seventh test you took into the trash can.
‘I must be dreaming..’ you grasp your hair in frustration.
The day I broke up with him, everything turned dark and I woke up on the hospital bed.
‘Y/N.. Are you okay..’ a familiar face appears.
‘Jimin??’ you question.
‘Yeah.. It’s me..’ he smiles weakly at you.
‘What happened?’ you stare at him as if all the information you need was displayed in his eyes.
‘I found you on the floor of your apartment, passed out..’ he frowns.
‘What in the world happened to you, and where the hell is Jin Hyung?’ he holds your hands.
The day I broke up with him, I found out that I lost my child.
‘I’m sorry we couldn’t save the child in your womb, Y/n..’ the doctor walks in, with blood all over his suit.
‘You were pregnant?..’ Jimin turns over to you.
‘Don’t tell him..’ you beg.
‘Why?’
‘We broke up..’ you confess.
The day I broke up with him, I cried myself to sleep.
Only to realise I never fell asleep, to begin with.
‘I can’t.. I can’t..’ you start sobbing uncontrollably.
‘I want to go back..’
The day I broke up with him, I found myself back at our old house.
But, he was already with someone else.
Her hands all over him, and his hands all over her.
The day I broke up with him, I wish I never left.
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lavienjin · 11 days ago
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bigger & better | knj & kth
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synopsis: fuck your gigantic roommates. they should have known better than to put your favourite jam on the top most shelf.
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pairing: taehyung x reader & namjoon x reader
wc: 2.9k
rating/genre/au: 18+ | roommates, threesome au | smut
warnings: pwp • threesome • size kink • oral (m. & f. receiving) • face fuck • deep throat • dirty talk • impact play • manhandling • name calling (whore, slut) • hair pulling • spitting • cum swallowing • unprotected sex • creampie • aftercare • these two have big cocks
author's note: well. this drabble grew legs and ran away from me. so, it got turned into a one shot. hope you have fun, anon!
m.list | ao3
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It all started because Taehyung decided it would be funny to place your favourite jam on the very top of the pantry shelf, knowing full well your arms can’t stretch that high up. Both him and Namjoon stand in the kitchen, suppressing their giggles as they watch your sad attempts to reach the elusive glass jar through a series of jumps.
“Will you giraffes come help me already?” you huff impatiently at your two roommates, turning around to cross your arms in front of your chest.
This only erupts a series of laughter from the boys. Taehyung grips the counter tightly to avoid falling to the floor as he clutches his stomach whereas Namjoon’s laughing so hard that there’s tears in his eyes, his mouth hanging open, though no sound comes out.
You scowl at the two clowns, rolling your eyes in exasperation before standing on your tip toes to reach the jam again. Muttering curses under your breath, you glare at the fully stocked wooden pantry, wondering if the shelves will break under your weight should you climb them in order to achieve your goal. Just as your toes touch the bottom shelf, a broad chest presses onto your back. You crank your neck to find Namjoon smirking down at you, his tongue swiping slowly across his plush, bottom lip.
“Let me help you with that, baby,” Namjoon smirks with a voice so low that you can’t suppress the shivers of electricity running down your spine. He stretches his hand and grabs the jar while purposefully grinding his hips on your ass. “There, is that all you need?”
You swallow. Your back is flooded with his warmth. Namjoon blows teasingly on your exposed neck, the cool breath against your blazing skin making you shiver, and the quiet whimper you release does not escape him.
“Are you cold? You’re shivering,” Taehyung murmurs with mock concern as he joins the two of you with a smirk of his own, effectively crowding you between their bodies and the wall.
Turning around to meet their heated gaze, your heart jumps to your throat as their towering figures look down at you, making you feel much smaller than you actually are.
You’re suddenly too aware at the scratchy feeling in your throat and you attempt to alleviate your thirst by swallowing another mouthful of spit. Gingerly, you trail your eyes from Taehyung’s smirk to his thick arms before moving on to Namjoon’s thighs, a strange sensation swirling in your abdomen when you realize that they’re doing the same – hungrily assessing you from where they stand.
Do they notice the hitch in your breathing? Can they hear the rapid thump of your heartbeat?
The air stills as the three statues study each other, breaths gradually getting heavier with each passing second. You wait patiently for someone to snap – for the telltale sign of a knife cutting the blanket of tension into strips.
Thankfully, you didn’t need to wait long. Namjoon wraps his thick arms around your waist and picks you up easily, handing the jar to a bewildered Taehyung, before dropping you on the dining table. He tilts your jaw upwards, his thumb swiping across your bottom lip before he eclipses it with his own. You moan into the kiss, your hands snaking up to tug at the strands of his hair as Namjoon strips you off your shorts and panties, grunting loudly when his fingers find your wet folds.
“No fair!” Taehyung pouts, slamming the jar on a nearby counter before he joins you, his large hands caressing your inner thighs.
Namjoon only chuckles, removing his fingers from your cunt to place it on your lips instead. “Open up, baby.”
You whine, obeying his command, tongue rolling out of your parted lips as you stare into his blown-out pupils. However, instead of stuffing his fingers in your awaiting mouth, Namjoon gathers up some saliva and spits in your mouth. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he repeats the action, your cunt gushing out streams of arousal onto the table.
Taehyung whistles, his large hands opening your legs wider. “I didn’t know you were such a slut. You love being treated this way, huh?” he muses.
You’re unable to answer Taehyung’s tease, not when Namjoon pins you with such a satisfied gaze. “Let me see you swallow, baby,” he commands in a soft voice, tapping your chin lightly with a finger. With a simpering mewl, you close your mouth and swallow before opening back up to show Namjoon that you’ve obeyed.
“Good girl,” he praises with a smile.
Taehyung takes the opportunity to run his fingers over your folds, grunting softly when your hips jerk upwards to meet his touch. “So fucking sensitive,” he mutters under his breath. “When was the last time you got laid, huh?”
“Taehyu—mmph—” Your groans are cut off when Namjoon pushes his fingers into your mouth, letting you taste the saltiness of your arousal. You suck and lick the digits clean, tearily blinking up at Namjoon’s smirk.
“Oh, I can’t wait to fill this mouth with my cock. You’re a good girl, aren’t you? You can take it, right?” Namjoon takes your hand and drags it across his erection, chuckling quietly when your eyes widen at the feeling of his bulge. You gulp around his fingers, but despite your nervousness, you’re ready for the challenge.
Twisting at the waist, you claw at Namjoon’s sweatpants, pleading silently for him to remove them. “Impatient brat,” he mumbles, but he removes his pants along with his boxers, letting his cock spring free into the air.
Your mouth waters at the sight of his cock. It’s much longer than you’d imagine, with a prominent vein running along the left side.
“God, can this mouth even fit me?” he wonders before removing his digits from your mouth.
“One way to find out,” you rasp, giving him a cheeky smile.
Namjoon returns your grin with his own, pulling you gently towards him until your head slightly hangs from the edge of the table. Crouching slightly, he taps on your parted lips with his cock before inching in slowly.
“Fuuuck—” Namjoon grunts, removing himself from the warmth of your mouth before plunging back in. “I’m gonna train this throat so you can take me.”
Your nails sink into the wooden table below. You’re unable to breathe, not with his balls pressed up against your nose, but you hollow your cheekbones and attempt to relax as Namjoon pushes himself further inside.
“Swallow,” he commands with a hiss when his head brushes the back of your throat. After taking a few gulps of air, you do, relaxing your muscles while trying not to gag and choke around his length. Mercifully, Namjoon sinks in slowly, patiently moving in and out of your mouth until your throat gradually accommodates his size.
You twitch on the table, fingernails raking the wood, as you breathe through your nose.
“Whoa.” You hear Taehyung gasp in awe and the sound fills your chest with inexplicable pride. He spanks the inside of your thigh lightly as he snickers, “You’re really made to be a slut, huh? You look so sexy swallowing Namjoon whole, fuck!”
Taehyung presses circles into your clit, allowing you to relax as Namjoon begins to fuck your throat. Gingerly, Taehyung pushes a finger into your hole, hissing when you clench around his digit. Your walls flutter, already feeling so full when he adds another finger into your cunt. Your muffled moans are loud in the quiet kitchen and your voice only increases in volume as Taehyung alternates between scissoring motions and curling his fingers around the patch of nerves, making you lightheaded and seeing stars.
“Mmh—” you grunt, eyes falling shut.
“She’s so tight,” Namjoon mutters, shuddering slightly as he increases his pace. Finding purchase on your tits, he gropes them firmly, using your mounds as anchors while he ruts into your mouth. “Shit—I can see the outline of my cock when I fuck your throat.” He presses his fingers lightly around your neck, relishing at the bulge that appears every time he buries his dick inside.
From the other end of the table, you hear Taehyung removing his pants. He spits into his palm, coating his cock with his saliva before prodding your entrance with the tip. “Well, let’s see if your body can take two cocks at once,” he chuckles.
Taehyung’s large hands grip your waist to stop you from twitching as he pushes in gradually. Your walls are crowded with Taehyung’s cock and yet there seems to be more. Your screams turn into airy whines as you buck your hips at the stretch, inhaling deeply to force yourself to relax to avoid biting on Namjoon’s dick.
“Fuck, baby, your pussy is so tight. I don’t know if I can fit my whole dick in,” Taehyung hisses, pulling out from your pulsing cunt. He pushes your legs to open wider and tries again, but your tiny cunt only manages to swallow his tip before he pops out again.
“How about changing positions?” Namjoon suggests, removing himself from your throat. There’s a string of saliva connecting the tip of his dick to your lips.
You gasp, taking in large gulps of air as you sit up on the table. The two men wait until you’re no longer sputtering. “That’s a great idea,” you grin, though your voice is hoarse from overuse. “Let’s take it to the bed. My ass is getting sore from lying on this hard table.”
Namjoon helps you down from the table, but as soon as your toes touch the floor, your legs give out and you yelp when you tumble forwards. Thankfully, he’s ready to catch you and you smile gratefully at him.
“Well, since you can’t walk…” Taehyung mumbles as he gets closer.
Without another warning, he scoops you into his arms, slinging you carelessly over his shoulder. He laughs when you yelp, your palms hitting his back as you demand for him to put you down, but your words unfortunately fall on deaf ears.
“Relax,” he rumbles. “I’m not going to let you fall.”
True to his word, Taehyung doesn’t drop you as he covers the short distance to your bedroom with his long legs until he reaches the end of the bed. He drops you on the mattress then – your limbs flailing in the air for a moment before you hit the bed with an ‘oomph’.
“Taehyung!” you yell, glaring at the brunette, but he only chuckles, his strong hands already flipping you so you lay on your stomach.
“Hands and knees, baby, let’s do this right.” Taehyung pushes your ass cheeks apart to lick your folds before switching to broader strokes from your clit to your hole. His tongue laves at the entrance before his fingers take over and you could only moan – surrendering yourself to the feeling of Taehyung fucking you with his digits.
Namjoon appears moments later, claiming your lips once more as he settles on the pillows. When he pulls away, he grins before pushing your head down on his dick. “Make yourself useful, slut,” he chuckles, patting your cheeks with his fingers. You offer him a mischievous smirk before enveloping the tip with your lips.
“Ready for my cock?” Taehyung asks rhetorically, removing his tongue from your cunt to kneel. He glides his shaft along your folds, purposefully missing your entrance and bumping into your clit.
You shiver, trying to focus on sucking Namjoon’s cock, but when Taehyung continues to tease, you throw a glare behind your shoulder to complain. “Taehyung—come on! Don’t tease!” you pout, just before Namjoon growls and grabs a fistful of your hair.
“Sluts like you don’t get to make requests,” Namjoon grunts, shoving your head down as your nails dig into his thighs. “All you’re good for is taking dick.”
“God, you’re such a useless slut,” Taehyung chuckles. “She doesn’t even know how to properly please us.”
He punctuates the final word by driving his cock deep into your cunt. Taehyung wastes no time with languid strokes, immediately slamming into your cunt with a brutal pace. Despite Namjoon shoving his cock into your throat to remind you of your task at hand, you can only moan in pleasure, mouth no longer cooperating as you slobber all over his length. You whine loudly when Namjoon yanks you away from his dick by your hair. You had no time to prepare, barely screwing your eyes shut when you see Namjoon raising his hand in the air.
The sharp smack across your cheek causes you to whip your head to the side, but despite the sob and tears escaping from your eyes, what surprises you most is how much you loved it.
“Namjoon—” you moan, body shivering from the rough treatment.
“Shit—she got tighter—” Taehyung groans, driving his hips faster into your battered walls.
You grip the sheets tighter when Namjoon slaps your other cheek, the stinging pain forcing you to clench your teeth. When you crack your eyes open, Namjoon’s jaw is set; his tongue prodding the inside of his cheek.
“This filthy whore hasn’t learned. She’s too stupid to move her mouth when her cunt is filled with cock.” he smirks. Namjoon forces your mouth open with his thumb before he spits directly inside and you groan as you swallow his saliva down your throat.
“Not—ah—stupid,” you whine, relishing at the displeasure in his eyes. You hear Taehyung curse under his breath as your walls tighten around his cock. “Fuck—ah—Namjoon, please—I can be good. I promise,” you plead; voice sounding higher than usual.
“Well, prove it then. Use that mouth of yours to make me cum.”
Blinking tearily up at him, you pump his length several times before licking the tip, paying close attention to the underside of the head. You try to maintain your breathing as you fill your mouth with Namjoon’s cock, swallowing dutifully when he reaches the back of your throat. There’s a sudden drive to make him proud and you moan wantonly as you bob your head to match the rhythm from Taehyung’s thrusts.
“Fuck—that’s it— There’s my good girl.” Namjoon grunts. His hands maintain a firm grip around your skull and he aids your movements with a thrust of his hips.
You’re rocked back and forth between the two bodies, happily letting your roommates use your holes for their pleasure. The sloppy wet sounds of Taehyung drilling into your cunt and Namjoon fucking your throat causes the orgasm to build rapidly – the familiar string pulling taut in your abdomen. You moan loudly when Taehyung’s fingers find your clit, pressing figure eights onto the swollen bundle of nerves. The vibration from your voice makes Namjoon thrust up faster into your mouth, and before long, you feel the twitch of his cock as his breathing staggers.
“I’m gonna fucking cum—” Namjoon hisses, throwing his head on the pillows. “Make sure you drink it all, yeah?”
“Fuck—me too. I’m going to fill this cunt with my seed,” Taehyung gasps from behind.
You can only moan, tossed between their rapid pace as they seek out their pleasure.
“Shit—fuck—I’m cumming—" Taehyung groans, thick ropes of cum filling your tummy and painting your walls white.
Your head hums pleasantly in your skull when Taehyung lodges his cock deep into your cunt, his orgasm triggering your own as you’re tossed into the waves of pleasure. Taehyung’s grip around your hips tightens as you thrash on the sheets, the toe-curling orgasm making you groan loudly against Namjoon’s cock.
“Fuckfuckfuck—” Namjoon curses, shoving your head down as he cums. “Drink it all, baby, fuck—yes.”
You screw your eyes shut as you focus on swallowing the bitter liquid, occasionally mewling when Namjoon hits the back of your throat with his twitches. When you milk out the rest of his cum, you leave his cock and open your mouth wide, showing him the evidence – or lack thereof.
“Good girl,” Namjoon hums in between breaths. “Did my cum taste good, baby?”
You nod, body still shivering from the aftereffects of the orgasm as Taehyung thrusts languidly inside your cunt, massaging your hips with his large hands until his cock softens and slips out of you.
“Yeah, fuck, that was amazing, baby,” he agrees, kissing your back until he reaches your shoulder. “How are you feeling?”
“Sore,” you grumble, slumping onto the bed. Your body still twitches occasionally as you curl up on the sheets.
You feel a bounce in the mattress and shuffling of feet before a warm cloth is placed between your legs, wiping off the mess that’s surely oozing out of your hole. “Mmh—feels good,” you sigh gratefully.
Namjoon chuckles, leaving momentarily to toss the wet rag into the laundry hamper before kissing your forehead and settling next to you on the sheets.
Taehyung pulls you up and hands you a glass of water. You down the liquid instantly, whispering out a ‘thanks’ as you return the cup to his awaiting hand. He kisses your lips in response.
“So,” you pipe up, breaking the silence by smirking at the two men. “How about round two? I think it’s Joon’s turn to fuck me.”
Namjoon and Taehyung groan in unison.
“Is this your way of comparing our dick size?” the latter snorts while Namjoon drags a palm over his face before smirking.
Instead of answering, you wink.
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hansolmates · 25 days ago
jk! crazy rich asians au
rich!jk x middle-class!reader (f) genre/warnings; crazy rich asians!au, nyc!au, chaebol!jk, strangers to lovers, a meet-cute, jk is disgustingly rich, soft slow-lovin sex, lots of profanity, alcohol use w/c; 1.5k a/n; dreamy sighs. remember vic’s black card couple? It totally brought me back to how fun and amazing that series was. I really really enjoyed writing this. thank u for submitting!
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“Do you… need help?”
“Uh, no?”
You’re not an employee, but you are an avid Target shopper. The person in question is buying a lot—no, a fuckton of things. The most expensive and best-smelling fabric softeners, over ten pints of Halo Top ice cream, and a twenty dollar toothbrush holder you’ve been eyeing for weeks in the hope it’ll go on sale.
The man looks absolutely clueless, not because he doesn’t know what to buy, but it seems like he doesn’t know how to end his Target run. Fear not, you’re a dedicated master of controlling your stress-induced Target runs, so you do your good deed of the day and decide to help him out.
“Are you furnishing an apartment?” you ask lightly, eyeing copious amounts of cookies and ramen that’s tucked in the very bottom of the cart.
“Um, yeah,” he rubs the back of his neck, looking down sheepishly on the polished white floor. He’s dressed down in a plain white t-shirt and black sweatpants, but you’re impressed that they’re actually clean and creased nicely. “My mom already got me the apartment, and I already told her that’s too much. I told her that I could do everything myself, but she’s so insistent.”
“Ah, overprotective mother?”
“You have no idea,” he grins, “if you have any pointers for a clueless bachelor living alone for the first time, I’d appreciate it.”
This man is sneaky. Under the guise of being completely helpless (and a bachelor, no less!) you can’t help but aid this man.
Most importantly, his smile is completely and utterly heart melting.
With a fake cough, you pat your stomach to quell the aching butterflies smothering your chest. You dare another look into his pretty brown eyes when you quickly spit your name out, which causes Jungkook to smile even wider. “Well Jungkook, for starters,” you pull up your Target app on your phone, “do you have a Red Card? It saves you money on any Target purchase.”
“No, but I have a black card?” he turns his head in confusion, not understanding the use of Target’s loyalty program, “that should work too, right?”
You simply laugh, and reason with him that you’re thinking of two completely different things.
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It’s the first time you’re spending a night in Jungkook’s apartment. He never lets you over, reasoning that your apartment is warm and smells like sugar, like what a home is supposed to be. You should be excited to be nosy in Jungkook’s apartment and see all his cute baby pictures and the type of tea he drinks. Normally you’d be over the moon, but you’re love-drunk as shit and all you want to be is wrapped up in your boyfriend’s arms.
He doesn’t bother turning on the light as he weaves through his apartment building, holding you securely in koala style as he makes his way to your bedroom. It’s a blur as you’re currently occupied by the way Jungkook somehow manages to grind his stiff dress pants against your thinly clothed core, so you don’t see much of the rooms. You can only make out the faint scent of leftover lavender incense as Jungkook doesn’t waste time throwing you on his plush bed, following soon to press his body against yours.
“You’re completely, and utterly amazing,” he spreads kisses throughout every part of your body, irons them throughout your skin with warm presses of his champagne coated lips, “gonna love you so good tonight, baby.”
You simply moan in response, shimmying out of your little black dress and tilting your head to give Jungkook more access to your skin.
These past three months have been nothing short of a blissful whirlwind. Jungkook, who moved into the city as a hopeful bachelor, ironically ended up being cuffed by you after two weeks of not-so-accidental Target runs and lunch dates.
As much as you’re enamoured by his sweetness and eagerness to learn how to live on his own, he’s inspired by your independence and charm. A self-made woman, he calls you, proudly showing you off to your friends whenever he can. Oftentimes you try to reason with him that he’ll be self-made too, as he’s working on a start-up that’s just inches off from launching. Every time however, he kisses your forehead and simply says that it’s just not the same as you.
“So lucky to have met you,” he sighs, pumping his dick languidly as he admires your glistening body, “I think Target is my favorite store in the world. Who the fuck needs Gucci or Yves?”
You giggle deliriously, thinking he’s just saying silly shit as he always does. Your giggles soon hasten into whines when you feel the slick head run up and down your engorged folds, eager to have that full and warm feeling eat you up. “Koo,” you run your fingers through his cropped dark hair, “please, fuck me good.”
As Jungkook slowly but firmly pounds you into the mattress, your tipsy haze has you thinking how tonight feels different than most. For one thing, you’re in his apartment. It feels special, like you’ve managed to break through another layer of the reserved yet open Jeon Jungkook. Sure, he’ll tell you from top to bottom his top 10 Greatest Anime Betrayals, but so far he hasn’t told you much about his family and life before coming to the city.
Again, you think it’s the alcohol, but it isn’t just the sex, it’s the vibe. It just feels different than going home to your too-tiny one-room apartment. How is his sex playlist echoing through his walls so seamlessly? It makes The Weeknd’s I Feel It Coming sound so melodious, and you’d never admit that to him. Even the sheets feel luxurious, as if they’ve been crafted by the finest seamers in the country.
When the both of you climax and nuzzle against the sheets, you stop your weird mid-sex overthinking and just let yourself love. Jungkook wipes the sweat off your brow and uses cucumber-scented baby wipes to clean upstairs and downstairs. There’s nothing different, there mustn't be. It must be extra special because you’re with Jeon Jungkook, the most amazing man in the world.
You don’t even remember falling asleep, the mattress is just that damn soft.
The next morning, you have a slight headache and your mouth feels like paper. Smacking your tongue against the roof of your mouth, you force yourself out of bed. Pawing at the nightstand for your phone, you’re met with a cool paperweight.
Your eyes bug out as you see that a gold bar is hugging the sensitive documents against the sleek black table. Sparkly, but still dull enough to look authentically expensive. Is that real gold? You have half a mind to put the bar in your mouth and give it a little bite, just to check.
Wide awake, you chance a look at Jungkook, who’s still sleeping soundly and facing the other side of the bedroom. Careful not to wake him, you press a single toe on the cool espresso colored hardwood and move to find his dress shirt to put on.
Buttoning the silky material enough to cover your bits, you step out the door to see if you can make breakfast.
You scream. Where the fuck are you?
“The hell, babe?” Jungkook is all but calm at your shrill attack, his groggy morning voice that normally has you melting all but ignored.
“Jungkook,” you whisper in fear, unable to turn around and face him, “whose house did we break into last night?”
This is the penthouse, AKA, the most expensive fucking floor in the whole building. There are wall-to-wall double windows, with light-blocking curtains that open with a motion of your arm. The television is the width of the wall, with speakers embedded into the ceiling. There’s a wine fridge as tall as Jungkook mounted on the kitchen wall. The countertops are a milky white marble, matching the floor that’s so shiny you can see your coochie clearly from the opening of your button down. You promptly close your legs.
“Wha?” Jungkook steps behind you, a sheet wrapped around his waist to establish a modicum of decency. Now that it’s morning, you can clearly see that the eggshell sheets look so buttery they must be Egyptian. “I told you, I live here.”
“That’s Swarovski Crystal,” you point accusingly at the million-cut vase holding an abundant amount of sunset orange tiger lilies on the kitchen counter, which you’re absolutely sure do not grow naturally in this country. “I’m pretty sure I saw Michelle Obama with that vase on an episode of Home and Garden.”
“It was a gift,” Jungkook shrugs tiredly, and you already know he wants to pull you back to bed.
“Jungkook,” you grit, “what the fuck? Do you sell drugs?”
It’s meant to be a half-joke, but you falter slightly when you see Jungkook deflate. Maybe he hoped you’d be more casual about this, but from the look on your face, Jungkook deduces that it’s wishful thinking. He opens his blanket, and pulls you inside, relishing in the warmth of your body.
“I… have some explaining to do,” he mumbles dejectedly, nuzzling his nose into your hair.
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venusiangguk · 3 months ago
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the art of craving | jjk (m)
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>>pairing: jungkook x reader / dilf!jk x grocery store clerk!oc
>>genre: friends with benefits, smut, pwp, a lil bit of fluff
>>word count: 6.9k
>>warnings: the domesticity... sob sob, the cutest baby... sob sob, dom jk, sub oc, age gap, all that good dilf jk stuff: asking for permission, saying thank you, oral (m), videotaping, sexual tension, balls in face, covering of mouth (?), a lil bit of external prostate stim bc jk deserves it 😌, dirty talk, creampie,  sex in someone else’s house (? again), omg almost all members are dad’s 🥲, so many dilfs hhhh, hobi being out of pocket, questionable breakfast in bed 👍🏻
>>notes: HE’S BACK!! also i knocked this out in one day, so I'm sorry for mistakes or if it falls short, i tried to do dilf jk justice 🤧 
>>summary: jk takes you to a bbq at his friends house. the tri-tip is good but the creampie is even better.
series masterlist, pt 1, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4
“Are you sure you’re okay with me coming?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
You turn to Jeongguk, who is kneeled down at toddler level. Nari’s got a strong grip in his hair as she uses it as leverage as well as a balancing aid as she steps one little foot at a time into her water proof pull up. He cut it recently, his long locks a little more clean cut and cropped. Still more than enough for little hands to yank, though. He winces, but takes it in stride.
“I don’t know you’re always a bit weird about us,” you say. No bitterness, more of just an observation.
Jeongguk looks up at you as best he can, before getting Nari’s bikini bottoms and repeating the same painful process he did with the pull up. “I’m not weird about it.” He can almost hear the incredulous look you’re giving him. “Okay, I’m not as weird about it,” he amends, “but this is just a group of my friends getting together, and we’ve all known each other for years so I don’t have to worry about what they think of me.”
You hum, walking to the bathroom to get your own bikini on. You’re adjusting the ties at the hip when you say loudly so he can hear you from his room, “You’re worried about what people think of us?”
The effort you put into trying to hold in your laugh when Jeongguk appears in the doorway with a disheveled baby on his hip is futile. Nari’s looking around like she doesn’t know how she got there so fast, shirtless with a half-on baby bikini top, the triangles falling down and resting on her round belly. She smiles big when she sees you though, kicks in her dad’s hold.
Jeongguk looks kind of disheveled as well, yet very serious as he says, “No I don’t care what people think about us, I just- am more worried what they think about me. I know it doesn’t matter,” he sighs dramatically, “but I’d rather people not think I’m a cradle robbing pervert.” He covers one of Nari’s ears with a big hand and pushes the other ear against his chest to plug it when he says pervert. She pops back up, unbothered like a little bobble head.
You walk over and stand in front of them both, taking the strings of Nari’s swimsuit and tying them at the back of her neck. You flick your eyes up to Jeongguk, as you make the bunny ears. “You’re not even 30 yet, relax Daddy.”
“And you’re not even 25,” he almost whines, and doesn't bother scolding you for the use of the d word. This time.
“And this one’s not even 2!” you say, over excited as you turn wide eyes to the baby in front of you, swiftly changing the subject.
Nari squeals at your excitement, leans forward in her dad’s hold till she’s got tiny, pudgy little arms around your neck. Jeongguk hands her to you with ease, tries to keep the sick adoration off of his face while doing so.
“Duuu!” she cries, holding up her hand. She’s got her middle finger and ring finger up, an awkward way to show ‘two’ but you let her have it, jiggling her a little laughing a praise.
“Oh, such a smart little flower!” Jeongguk coos, hand coming up to give her a high-five.
However, she just grips his thumb in her small hand, giggling in the infectious way that babies do, her little crescent eyes lighting up with love and glee and Jeongguk almost cries. He hopes she never stops looking at him like that or holding his hand like that.
The alarm on his phone knocks him out of his sentimental reverie as he begrudgingly frees himself from Nari’s hold. He calls into the bathroom, “We’re going to be late.”
You’re not bothered, instead just sitting Nari on the bathroom counter and doing her hair up in small piggy-tail buns atop her head. She plays with your belly ring while you do so, fascinated by the new cherry charm you have on it now.
“Did you hear me?” Jeongguk asks in the doorway.
“Yup, look at her,” you say, gesturing to the oblivious baby.
Jeongguk does, taps one of the buns. “How do you get them so symmetrical? I can never get it right.”
You hum, sitting her in the curve of your waist. You give her your manicured hand, nails decorated in crystals, to distract her. “I’ll teach you. Want me to get her baby bag ready while you load the car with her sleeper just in case she needs to nap while we are there?”
Jeongguk shoots finger guns at you, before pressing a quick kiss to your temple. You purr. “Good brain, I didn’t think of that.”
You walk out with him, set Nari down and let her toddle about. She hands you an array of things, helping you pack her bag while Jeongguk goes to his large walk-in closet grabbing the portable crib.
“Don’t forget her sock monitor,” he grunts, finally getting a good hold of it.
“Already packed,” you tell him, “Do you want me to pack her undies for after swimming?”
Nari’s speech may be a little delayed according to the doctors but her brain is big and functioning and everything else in her baby body is right on par, or even ahead of kids her age. They suggested early potty-training, and focusing on the positives as Jeongguk navigates the hurdles.
He looks contemplative before he shakes his head. “No, too much hassle, just pull-ups is fine.”
You throw him a look, but he’s already got his back to you walking out the room. “You know she’s never going to learn if you don’t stay consistent and keep a routine!”
“Yes, baby, I know!” he calls over his shoulder, “Fresh start when we get back!”
You roll your eyes. “Daddy’s so silly, huh?”
Nari babbles an affirmative, and with that, you shoulder the baby bag and carry the baby right out the door. Easy peasy.
~~~
“Hello my good bitches!”
“Hoseok!” Jeongguk whisper-scolds, a protective hand coming up to Nari’s face. For some reason he covers her eyes instead of her ears. Nari blows a blind raspberry, but is more or less content in your arms.
You’ve never met Hoseok before, but you know you like him when you watch his eyes rake over Jeongguk, a judgemental look on his face as he takes a sip from the red solo cup in his hand, eyes narrowed over the rim.
“What are you wearing?”
Jeongguk narrows his eyes back. Although his friend probably can’t see them behind the huge gold-rimmed, purple hued glasses Jeongguk is wearing. “It’s Fendi. Please move, this is heavy.”
It’s no secret that Jeongguk has a fat wallet to match his fat dilf ass, and that he likes the occasional name brand item in his closet. But he’s not frivolous, and it’s only once in a blue moon that he actually splurges on something as expensive as the bright yellow and white shirt he’s wearing currently.
If anything a good portion of his income goes to what he wine-drunkenly calls the ‘Flower Fund’. Essentially dollars put away for when Nari goes to university, or whatever she decides. Maybe she’ll start her own business like her dad. Your mouth may have dropped when he let the current balance slip. She’s not even 2 yet.
Anywho. The shirt that is the hot topic-  it’s a bit out there, different from what he usually wears, but somehow he pulls it off, the white of the trademark F’s all over compliment the white, 5in inseam swim shorts he has on. You giggled in the car when he paired the sunglasses with it, but the more you look at him, the more you grow to like the statement piece.
His sleeve is on full display, and his arm is flexed as he carries the baby sleeper, finding a wall to lean it against. You’re still staring when Hoseok starts speaking.
“So you’re the hot Nanny he goes on and on about?”
“Nanny?” you ask, raising a brow.
“Hobi? Oh my god?” He shakes his head and his hands open and jerk in a very what the fuck manner. “I do not call you the nanny,” he stresses, eyes going to you.
You keep your brow quirked.
Hoseok laughs, nudges you with his hands open, nodding towards Nari. The baby looks like it's a very tough decision, choosing between you and Hoseok, but after an encouraging nod from you she smiles. Her baby teeth are on display, and her hands are grabby.
Jeongguk’s friend hips her, “He doesn’t actually call you the nanny, but he does talk about you a lot. All good things of course.”
You smile, your heart fluttering a little in your chest but before you can say anything Jeongguk is by your side, telling Hoseok a very adamant and stern, ‘Goodbye.’
Hoseok just laughs. “Okay, okay,” he says, raising his hands in surrender. The one holding the red cup catches Nari’s attention.
She pokes it with a tiny finger before smacking her lips a little. “Joofs?”
“Joofs?” Hoseok repeats, confused for a moment before he gets it. “Juice- yeah no. Not this. Let’s get you your own joofs.”
As he’s walking towards what you assume is the kitchen you call out, “Do you need one of her cups?”
He waves a dismissive hand. “Joon keeps some in the kitchen, go outside and meet everyone! We’ve all been dying to put a face to the mysterious __!” He turns to Nari making casual conversation till his voice fades with distance, “Still nice and plump I see…”
Something warms inside you. The fact that Jeongguk’s friends are all so close, that they keep little things for each other's children at each other’s houses, is so sweet and wholesome and so tender in a way that makes your heart want to burst.
Nari’s playroom has a few leapfrog’s with grade school games on a shelf and you had always wondered why. When you asked, Jeongguk told you that he sometimes watched Taehyung’s boys when he and his wife had date night. He has all the Tinkerbell movies on bluray for Jin’s daughter, and the Harry Potter ones for Yoongi and Jimin’s. As far as you know, Namjoon doesn’t have kids of his own yet, so it’s extra touching that he keeps baby essentials for Nari around.
You lean against Jeongguk, bumping shoulders with him. “Hoseok is nice, I like him.”
He rolls his eyes. “He’s the bachelor of the group. No relationship or kids. Hence the potty-mouth and the alcoholic joofs at 1 in the afternoon.”
You smile a closed lipped laugh, eyes glinting as you look up at him. He smiles back, unable to stop himself. He gives you an inquisitive look, the arm around your waist pulling you a little closer. The hand on your hip squeezing in question.
“Hmm?” he ponders, softly.
“You talk about me?” you ask, just as soft.
He hums, eyes dropping to your lips. “Just a little. Only to them.”
You and Jeongguk aren’t official. The circumstances a bit peculiar, the steps a little harder to maneuver. But what you have is good. A nice mix between fun and serious, committed yet free. You both know what you need to, feel what’s between you, even if you don’t name it or talk about it.
On your tiptoes, you crane your neck to reach his lips, and his eyes slip shut, ready to meet you halfway.
“Ah- Jeongguk you’re on grill duty!”
Jeongguk slumps behind you, a little groan sounding. “Okay!”
He sneaks a sweet kiss, before pinching your butt quickly. “Let me introduce you to the hyungs.”
~~~
Jeongguk looks almost as edible as the tri-tip he’s grilling. He’s got tongs in his tattooed hand, his hair held back by those purpley sunglasses that he’s pushed to the top of his head. His shirt is open, his toned tummy out and flexing whenever he laughs at something Taehyung says.
His eyes constantly look for you and Nari in the pool. He has an air kiss war with Nari for a while before she gets distracted by one of the other kids, asking if they can drag her around the pool by her floaty.
You’re pretty sure it’s Jin’s daughter, around 8 or 9. Smiling you nod, telling her you’ll help her. You keep a stable hand on Nari’s circular underarm floaty as she giggles and splashes, tickled pink at being doted on. She’s the baby of the barbeque, so she’s been handed around and loved on so much, giving the whole crew a dose of baby fever.
“You know, we got special toys and a playmat for her. She’s never liked the water.”
At the sound of a woman’s voice you look over your shoulder to see Jin’s wife sitting on the edge of the pool, her feet dipped in the water. She’s beautiful, high cheekbones and kind eyes. She’s smiling, and it has a hint of knowing to it. She nods to the lawn next to the pool, and you see said playmat has been commandeered by the girls.
This gets her daughter’s attention and she jumps up and down excitedly in the shallow end of the pool where you’ve ended up.
“I’m going to go play with them for a little bit, okay Nana? I’ll come back and swim with you soon!” she gives Nari a quick kiss before speed walking to the grass after a stern warning from her mother not to run by the pool.
Nari watches, her eyes wide and curious, and you give her another kiss (she’s been absolutely smothered today). “You’ll be able to play with them soon, don’t worry little bug.”
She wiggles a little, curls in on herself like your kisses tickle before she’s giving you a wet kiss back, her chlorine hands grabbing at your cheeks. You laugh with her, finally turning back to Jin’s wife.
“I don’t know, maybe she just needed another push.”
She hums, getting fully in the water with you. She makes a ‘come hither’ motion with a wave of her hand, gesturing for you to push Nari across the water to her. The distance isn’t far so you do. You and her take turns pushing the baby back and forth and Nari loves it, soft giggles spilling from her lips as she lets her hands drag in the water.
“Jeongguk says you’re really good with her. That she really loves you.”
You feel yourself flush. “That’s sweet of him, but he’s the one that’s made her so good with people.”
She shakes her head, laughing. “Uh, she’s good with us. Kind of a nightmare for people she doesn’t like. She’s almost as picky as he is about who gets to be around her.”
Laughing with her, you speak playfully to the baby. “You? A nightmare? No way!”
Jin’s wife notices the blush, the way you brush off the comments and direct attention to other things, so as she passes Nari to you again, she says, “I get it, I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I just wanted you to know that I think he trusts you and cares about you a lot. Not that he tells me of course,” she chuckles, “That’s boy talk, but Jin’s got a big mouth.”
“No,” you assure her, “I appreciate it, thank you for telling me.”
Mindless chatter ensues, baby babbles sprinkled in, Nari giving her two cents, as everyone waits for the food. Your name is yelled across the backyard, and the familiar voice is welcomed, as you make sure Nari is in good hands before swimming to meet Jeongguk at the edge of the pool. He’s got a piece of meat on a fork.
“Taste?” he asks, squatting in front of you.
You open your mouth, and he’s about to plop it in before he brings it back at the last minute, blowing on it a little. You laugh, endeared. Probably a habit due to always making sure anything he lets Nari taste isn’t too hot. He presses it to his lips quickly to test the temperature, before the fork is at your lips again, his other hand underneath making sure it doesn’t fall.
You groan, tastebuds doing a happy dance on your tongue as you chew.
“So good,” you moan, mouth still full, “I love the sauce.”
“The aioli,” he says, playfully snobby.
You roll your eyes, swallowing finally. “Whatever. I love it.”
He’s got a sweet smile on his face as his eyes search yours. They linger on your lips, and you think he may kiss you, but instead he wipes his thumb on your bottom lip. You can see a little bit of the aioli on it when he brings it to his mouth, eye contact deliberate as he sucks it off. It’s a bit naughty for him. Always careful about ‘pda’. But his doe-eyes are twinkling and he’s trying not to laugh as he says, “I love it, too.”
Sure that he can feel the spike in the air, you narrow your eyes at him as you whisper, “You’re mean.”
He shrugs, pats your head. “Food’s ready, get baby. I’ll save you guys a seat.”
~~~
Everyone around the outside table groans. Hands are on bellies and arms are behind heads and buttons are undone after devouring the food. The kids table off to the side is conspiring on how to get dessert, and little Nari is just about knocked out in your lap, the bread of her cheek smushed against your chest as she nods off.
“Jk, the iron chef,” Jimin sighs, swirling his wine in his glass.
“For real, man…”
Compliments to the chef are spouted from everyone and Jeongguk humbly accepts. The conversation dwindles into something that is lulled and lazy, casual stories about the kids being traded. How Taehyung found his twin boys’ pee drawer. You cringe. How Yoongi and Jimin’s daughter said her first curse word at kindergarten and blamed it on her dad (the one with the potty-mouth… read: Yoongi). You laugh, carefully not to wake Nari.
One of the wives notices.
She coos, “Oh, looks like someone is tuckered out.”
Jeongguk glances at his daughter, brings a finger to her pushed out bottom lip and pulls it down a little, tiny bloop noises sounding when it snaps back into place. He’s evil.
Of course she groggily wakes up, grumpy and rotten as she screeches and groans, rubbing her face into your sternum. Her chubby foot kicks at her dad. He laughs a coo at her, and she just grunts, indignant and sleepy.
“Quit it,” you say, trying not to laugh at the scene.
He hums, shoulders shaking in amusement. “Let’s set up her sleeper,” he says to you before turning to Namjoon. “Can we set it up in the guest room?”
He nods. “You’ll be able to hear her if she wakes up?”
“Of course, we brought her sock monitor.”
“Sock monitor,” Jin scoffs humorously, “Wish they had those when Jiwoo was a baby…”
The voices taper off as you follow Jeongguk back into the house and after a pitstop in the foyer for the crib and baby bag you find yourself in a pretty decently sized bedroom. It’s furnished, but there’s enough space in the far corner for the sleeper.
You sit on the bed, sway back and forth with Nari still snoozing in your arms. You rest your cheek on her head, watching as Jeongguk quickly sets up her nap station. He looks strong, arms working as he snaps each piece into place. His thighs bulge a little, his swim shorts bunching and pulled taut over the muscle as he grabs her blanket and pig stuffie from the baby bag.
“She still sleeping?” he asks, once he’s finished.
You hum an affirmative, getting to your feet and walking over to him. He takes her, and gently lowers her in, staying near until he’s sure that the move didn’t wake her. She whimpers a little in her sleep and you quietly rustle through her bag until you find her paci. Nari quiets immediately, soft baby snores that sound more like tiny little sighs fill the room.
Jeongguk brushes her flyaways off her face, tucks the wispies behind her ear being careful not to snag on her tiny earring. He then turns to you and throws himself into your arms, slumping.
You groan under his weight, but embrace him nonetheless.
“She’s getting so big,” he whines.
“Turns 2 in like 2 months right?”
He nods, face in your neck.
“You gonna do anything for it?”
Sighing, he rights himself. He bends and gets the monitor sock, un-velcroing it as quietly as he can, and then does it up around Nari’s tiny foot as carefully as possible. She’s a pretty good sleeper, never really too fussy, but you can never be too careful. He then grabs his phone from the same bag, checking the connection on the app.
“Her mom was talking about maybe getting together for it,” he says, pocketing his cell and grabbing your hand. “We can do something though. If you want, you’re not obligated of course.”
Your smile is small, but you nod. “Of course I want to.”
His ex is something you both never really touch on. One of the only tense subjects between you two, the conversation always a little formal and stilted, but you get it. And it’s not your place to question him, or how he co-parents. Not your place to question what she would think if she knew about you, because you’re sure she doesn’t. Or else you probably would have been invited to the actual birthday party.
It’s cool. You get it.
You’re wandering aimlessly around the house, hand in hand, taking the well needed break away from the commotion outside. The company is great, just a lot, and you’ve wanted to get Jeongguk alone the whole afternoon. Now’s your chance and after the birthday talk, you could use a distraction.
He’s lazily showing around the downstairs bathroom when you take your chances.
“That’s the waterfall shower, the toilet- it has a bidet, how cool is that? That’s the tub, and- that’s the lock? What are you doing?” He whispers like he’s playfully scandalized by the way you lock the both of you inside.
You shrug innocently, as you step in front of him. Trailing your index finger between the slight dip between his pecs, down to the line between his abs, all the way to the light trail of hair that disappears into his shorts.
“Dunno… What am I doing?”
He hums like he’s thinking about it. “I think you’re being a bit suggestive…” he says quietly as he toys with the tie at your hip.
“Mmm,” you hum contemplative and teasing. You take a short step, closing the small distance between you and him. You wrap your arms around his neck, scratch at the short hairs at the nape of his neck. “What am I suggesting?”
Jeongguk’s so easy. He bends some, brushing his nose against your cheek, the hands at your hips already eagerly gripping and pulling you closer. Flush against him. His voice is soft, has a slight shake to it when he says back, “Not sure… tell me?”
You sigh, pleased, when he presses gentle, wet kisses to your neck. You whine a bit when he nips, his teeth sharp and quick. Eloquently you say, “Let’s have a quickie.”
Jeongguk snorts, a harsh laugh huffing into your skin. “Smooth.”
He’s teasing but his swimsuit doesn’t do much to hide how hard he’s getting, despite not even being touched yet. You change that, hand going down to cup him through the material.
“You wanna?” you purr, squeezing him.
He nods, finally kisses you. Slow and gentle. “Yeah,” he breathes against your mouth.
You kiss him with intention, then.
Tongues curl around each other and teeth click. Hands roam, bodies on fire despite the little clothing on your frames, the dip in the pool you had not too long ago. Jeongguk seems eager, kinda desperate as he breathes harshly against your lips, hands on your ass grabbing and kneading your cheeks in his big palms, pulling them apart a little as he presses his cock into your lower belly.
You moan when you feel how hard he is, when you feel how badly he wants you. Right here in one of his best friends' bathrooms. It makes you feel a little high, kind of dreamy as he backs himself to the counter, hooks one of your legs on his hip, forcing you to rest most of your weight on him, bracing yourself against his body.
With your legs now open, Jeongguk takes advantage of the way your pussy is right over his cock, rutting up into you, his hips moving hard and slow as he drags his length against you. You gasp, resting your head on his shoulder, eyes falling shut. Your acrylics grip at his shirt for a moment, ba