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yoonia · a month ago
once upon an us [m] | knj
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❥ Summary | You have spent years building a life of your own until you find yourself living a life that every little girl could have ever dreamed of. With a promising career and an expensive apartment in the big city, the only thing left is the fairytale wedding that you had wished for since you were a little girl. When the one you believe to be your prince charming finally comes into your life, you start to believe that dreams do come true. But you also know that things aren’t always as simple as it seems, when there is still a piece of your past that is still tethering you back from reaching for it.
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❥ Title | Once Upon an Us
❥ Pairings | Kim Namjoon x female reader
⤑ Genre | Past Lovers!au, Exes to Lovers!au, Established relationship, Angst, Rom-com, Fluff, Smut
⤑ Ratings | +18 / M for Mature
⤑ Warnings | Mentions of miscarriage, grief, characters making bad decisions, fake relationship(-ish) trope, Namjoon as a (former) basketball player, some cliche scenes as part to romcoms (sharing a bed, lots of arguments), technically involves infidelity, sexual tension, lots of kissing, dry humping, outdoor foreplay, public sex, breast play, clothed foreplay, clothed sex, denied orgasm, hair pulling, fingering (female), oral sex (female, including clit play, implied biting), unprotected sex, rough sex, mention of multiple orgasms, implied creampie.
⤑ Word count | 47k words (I am so sorry!!!)
⤑ Cross Post | AO3 | Inkitt 
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❥ Author’s Note | This story is written as a part of the ‘Christmas in July’ project, for the ‘Winter Wedding Season’ category, an event hosted by @kookdiaries, @kithtaehyung, and @xiaokoo. This fic is loosely inspired by the movie Sweet Home Alabama (2002) | Thank you @theodea for reading through this on such a short notice (I love you, bub!) and for my sprint mates and fellow camp nano-ers who kept hyping me up in this journey @softyoongiionly @randombtsprincessa @yeoldontknow 
❥ Song Companion | Sabrina Claudio - Belong To You (feat. 6lack) ● Daughter - Landfill ● ORKID - Only If You Want To ● Jutes - We Good ● Standing Egg - Ironic
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There is always something to be said about little girls and their big dreams.
The way their innocence allows them to conjure imaginations that are beyond any adult mind could comprehend. To have their minds going places without any worries of facing the reality of life, without any barriers or limits to how far their extensive imagination would go as they create all the scenarios involving their whole life—starting with the paths where they want to go in life, the person they imagine they would become, the people they want to meet, and everything that they want to achieve.
For a lot of people who had known you since you were a little girl, this is exactly how they had seen you and has continued to remember you with. A dreamer. The little girl who would paint a big picture inside your head that you would often get stuck in your own world, oftentimes too stubborn to look at the present or the world around you and to simply follow the course that your life was taking you into.
The little girl in you had dreamt of becoming your own princess, just like the ones you have read in the storybooks that your parents used to read you before bed. You dreamt about living in a castle somewhere at the top of the mountains—just like the mountains that you had always seen growing up at home. You dreamt about having all the fancy things that princesses would acquire and being spoiled with the pleasure of the admiration and praises from all the people that you would surround yourself with.
As you grew older, your dreams began to manifest into something more real. When you knew that, in reality, it would be impossible for you to build your own castle, you began to turn your dreams and use them to build a plan of uprooting your life. From the small-town girl that everyone knew into someone who has a lot more, achieving everything through an elaborate plan that you had concocted so perfectly for yourself—to move into the big city, to have your own place, switching from living in the old brick house in your family’s property to affording a fancy apartment which looked similar to those you have seen in the movies, and to have a great career, something that would be enough to allow you to buy your own fancy things the way you couldn’t afford to as a child.
Soon, you would learn that the journey to fulfilling your dreams would not be as easy as how you had pictured it as a child. If there is something for you to learn as an adult, is that there is also always something to be said about life, about its twists and turns, the surprises and the secrets looming in every corner, and how easy it would be for someone like you to get caught drifting in the tide if you are not prepared for it.
It had taken you far and through a tumultuous course of life to be in this moment, to find yourself living in the big city, with a good job and a rising career that had put a roof over your head—specifically the two-bedroom apartment located in the heart of the city which would have costed a living if you hadn’t been lucky enough to have the kind of income that you earn from your fancy job.
Sometimes, it still feels unbelievable to think that you had somewhat managed to bring your dreams into reality, though the years of hard work to make it all happen have managed to keep your foot on the ground, keeping you humble despite everything that you had gone through. The journey started the day you left the small town where you were born and raised, stepping out of your comfort zone to begin your own adventure. It was all followed by the years you spent studying in law school, then building up your career while constantly proving yourself against the people who had once looked down on you along with all the vicious male competitors at work for you to become the person that you are today.
Looking back at your journey and at everything that you had accomplished for the past seven years, to see for yourself just how you had managed to survive all the tides that fate had thrown at you should be able to make you feel happy and content. The life that you had built up to today has gone beyond whatever you had imagined and there is no chance in hell you would ever trade it for anything else.
Not even for a fraction of a memory that you had to sacrifice many years ago.
But sometimes, you still find it hard to savour everything. Not when you still constantly feel like you are missing something, as if there is a piece of you that had been mislaid, lost, perhaps forgotten in the midst of walking down your path to finding your happy ending.
And the void has only been getting stronger because you know that the little girl inside you is still refusing to give up on her fairy tale ending and has always been so demanding that she wants to have it just the way the old storybooks that she had read as a child had been telling them.
In the fairy tales that you had once adored as a child, each of their stories had always ended with the Princesses meeting their Prince Charming, to have them falling in love, and have their union defeat all the bad until there is nothing left but the good. Just like everything else that you have acquired in life, this had also been a part of the dream that you had manifested in your mind as a little girl. To finally end your story by finding someone who could sweep you off of your feet the same way you read them in those storybooks, before riding into the sunset to mark the end of your lone journey and the start of your journey together with the one you love.
There had been many years of waiting, of picturing how it should be when the moment would finally come. But despite all the scenarios that you had planned and played out in your head each time you wondered about it in the past, never once had you imagined that it would be something like this.
You snap out of it when his voice comes to your senses, shaking you out of your wandering thoughts and pulling you back to the present. Back to the man who is still down on the floor, resting on one knee right before you. He is now wearing a nervous smile on his face while his eyes carry a ton of questions, no doubt for having you falling silent instead of jumping up and down in joy after what he had initially asked of you. Your eyes fall on his hands. The same hands that have been holding out a small box with a glowing diamond ring sitting at its center, and you immediately remember what had just happened before time suddenly stopped still for you to send your mind wandering off to the past.
“M-Matthew—” your voice comes out small when you finally manage to speak, though the words still seem to refuse to come out.
“What do you say, babe? Will you marry me?” he asks again, as if you hadn’t heard him the first time, and you can see his gaze flickering, looking vulnerable when you have yet to give him an answer.
A hush comes from around you as the people who have been witnessing this moment unfolding are beginning to whisper. Some talking with curiosity while others seem to be growing more impatient on Matthew’s behalf.
‘She’s still in shock,’ says one voice. ’I think he’s made her speechless,’ says another. You don’t even make any effort to look around to see who is speaking and who is probably sneering at you, still too stunned into silence at the sight of the man before you. You can feel their gazes on you even without looking over, though you try not to let their presence intimidate and haunt you, letting them fade into the background while you focus on steadying your breath.
The words are there on the tip of your tongue, but your racing heartbeat makes it hard for you to find your voice to speak it out loud. Despite the fact that you had known for quite some time that he had been planning for this, having heard him talking and insinuating for this moment to finally happen, you never expected for him to do this here and definitely not right at this moment. Right in the middle of the important office event, everyone has gathered for the night to celebrate his promotion as a partner. He was supposed to be the one who is standing in the limelight, the one who is supposed to become the main part of the event, and he certainly was not supposed to pull you with him under that spotlight which now seems to be pointing straight at you.
But perhaps this is his fairy tale ending too. Something that he had planned to happen right at the same time he finally acquired his goal, putting an end to his lone journey to start a new one with you. As the thought occurs to you, the answer comes to you pretty easily.
“Yes,” you finally give your answer out loud, and your pounding heartbeat intensifies just as your joy begins to take over, coming out in waves, eliminating all the doubts that had been weighing inside your chest. “Yes, Matthew. The answer is yes. I’ll marry you.”
While everyone around you cheers to celebrate, Matthew jumps onto his feet and wraps you in his arms. As someone who always appears so calm and composed whether he is in the courtroom or within the conference meeting rooms, Matthew has never had any hesitation in showing his feelings for you whenever he is in public. And you have grown used to it by now that you simply laugh with him as he envelopes you with his big arms, lifting you up and spinning you around with him, before taking your lips in his in a quick celebratory kiss and then finally letting you go.
Your head is still spinning and your mind still feels slightly fuzzy when he takes your hand and gently slides the beautiful ring onto your finger. Everything seems so surreal that you are almost convinced that you are dreaming, that nothing about this is actually happening. But then Matthew helps you feel everything once again, bringing your senses back alive and your mind back to focus as he pulls you in his arms once more so he can capture your lips, giving you a kiss that is much deeper in his joy.
This is it, you wonder to yourself as you slowly give in, wrapping your arms around his neck as you return his kiss and lean into his embrace.
The happy ending of your own fairy tale. Your Prince Charming.
The feeling of his heart beating against your chest makes his presence more real. To allow you to realise that this is all happening. But the moment he lets you go, giving you a chance to pull away from the kiss and look at his face, the reality of your life and of what had just transpired finally begin to sink in.
The happiness you are feeling now should have you feeling ecstatic, to be able to cheer just as loud as the guests in the office party who had become the witnesses to this wondrous moment and to savour it with a smile on your face which should be just as wide as Matthew’s as he looks at you with wonders in his eyes.
“I love you,” he whispers, keeping his forehead resting on yours as he keeps holding you in his arms, swaying you gently with him as he moves from side to side to enjoy the faint hum of the music playing from the speakers while everyone else returns to the enjoy their drinks.
You look up at him, returning his smile when you whisper, “Love you too,” making his smile grow wider as he savours the words you have given him before he pulls you back against his chest. You enjoy making him smile, and you revel in the joy brewing inside you knowing that you make him happy. And yet you can still feel the sinking feeling that comes to you in the form of the shadow from your past, reminding you of the reason why you are still unable to fall freely into this joy, to savour it the way you are supposed to. And you hate not being able to enjoy this moment when deep down you know that you deserve every bit of the happy ending now being offered to you.
Wrapping your arms around Matthew’s waist, you close your eyes and bask in his warmth. It pains you to know just how happy he is about this moment while you are filled with a dreadful pang of guilt pinching at your chest.
As you let him continue to guide you into a slow dance right in the middle of the dance floor, you begin to silently write a new elaborate plan inside your head, writing another scenario that would allow you to finally embrace the happiness being gifted to you, starting from going back home to face the shadows of your past and the life that you had left behind when you began writing your own story.
Because something is tethering you back into that life still, a secret that would be enough to shatter the life that you have built for yourself, your future, and perhaps any happiness that is waiting for you at the end of the tunnel.
And you know that it is time for you to set everything loose for once and for all. All for the sake of moving on and for you to embrace your new beginning.
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Your flight home had never felt this long before. Not for a trip that was supposed to have been a quick one. It isn’t as if your hometown is somewhere across the globe or even all the way across the country. It just didn’t help that you had been anxious all through the trip that it simply felt as if the plane had been crawling in the air, making it appear as if time simply stood still while you were up there. With your stomach constantly churning, you couldn’t even indulge yourself in the alcohol drinks they were offering on the flight to help you pass the time.
Stepping out of the plane has not done much to ease the anxiety you felt, and yet you simply force yourself to hold it back down and act as if you still have control over everything. You have even chosen to grab a rental car from the airport instead of taking the cab home, hoping that driving the car would help clear your head a little and perhaps force you to focus instead of letting your mind constantly wandering out of control.
Once you start driving away from the airport, you soon find that you were right, after all. The action has your mind focusing that it leaves no space for your anxiety to take over. Though it doesn’t stop other emotions to come through you. Watching the scenery as you drive the car slowly down the road, you relish on the feeling of melancholy that suddenly overwhelms you. And yet, at the same time, you still find it hard to just relax and give in to the moment. But only because everything that you are looking out on as you drive past the town road and its old buildings all seem odd to you, and somewhat foreign.
It had been seven years ago when you left this town for the first time. Leaving behind the heartache, the grief, the physical pain that had been a part of you, a reminder of what you had lost, and you had done it all simply to continue on living.
Up until three years ago, you had been coming home often, either it was to spend the holidays with your family or to simply visit your parents on their birthdays or on the weekends where you would be free with a chance for a long break. But then things changed, when everything fell apart all so suddenly and you no longer had any reason to come back when the last string of hope that you were still holding on to for you to survive was ripped away from you.
It was not too long after when you got the permanent position in the law firm you are working at, and while work had always been so rough and so busy even around the holidays, it had helped give you the escape you had needed to stay away. It might have been unfair for you to use your job as your excuse to keep your distance, and for you to use it as a reason not to come home as often as you had wanted, but it was a small sacrifice to what you had wanted to gain. Ever since then the only way you could ever celebrate Christmas with your family had only been done through video calls instead of being there in person. Though your heart kept telling you that it wasn’t enough, you simply had to make do, and your parents had no other choice but to understand and to let it continue on for a while.
Being here now, looking out the window to watch the town as you drive right by, you can feel a nagging feeling inside you that tells you how much you no longer belong in this place. Especially now, when you are about to embark a new journey that doesn’t involve any part of your past.
Thinking about the recent events happening in your life, specifically on the one that is about to change the entire course of your life, only brings your mind back to Matthew.
You have always been a terrible liar, and the guilt of lying to Matthew about this abrupt homecoming is still clawing at you in the chest. Rubbing your palm against the source of the painful pinch you are feeling, you recall the day when you had to tell him about coming home to see your parents in order to send them the news of your engagement.
And that you would need to do it without him.
Having only started dating each other for 8 months, Matthew had never gotten a chance to get to know the side of you that you had left behind. He had only known you as the woman who would always come early every morning and the last one to leave the office at night. And then last year, after facing a case that had gotten you stuck with him in the office on the night before Christmas, it had been the side of you that you had painted for everyone around you to see—the hardworking city girl with no baggage or secrets, and perhaps not even a personal life—that had managed to catch his attention first. He had never known you as the small-town girl who had once think highly of the holiday tradition that you had with your family, who would stay up all night to set up all the Christmas decorations to light up the whole house when you weren’t stuck in the kitchen helping your mother with her Christmas meal or when you weren’t helping your brother wrap up all the gifts until blisters would start growing on the tip of your fingers from working with all the glues and tapes.
So the moment you got a strong reaction from Matthew about you seeing your parents without him and that you would be staying with them for the holidays, you had been ready for it. Though it had needed a lot of convincing on your part still to make sure that he wouldn’t insist on tagging along and ruining your whole plan.
“How long will you be gone?” he asked you the morning he was driving you off to the airport, once he was open to the idea of letting you travel home on your own.
“Just one week, only until the day after Christmas, then I’ll come back as soon as I can so I can spend New Year’s Eve with you. I promise,” you had answered him then, appeasing him by giving him what he had wanted to hear while silently repeating it inside your head as a promise to yourself, setting up a time limit as you set out to clear out the final hurdle getting in the way of your new beginning with your fiancé.
It wouldn’t be easy. Even as you were thinking about doing this and way before you even decided to fly all the way here to make this happen, you had known that this would not be an easy task. But it needs to be done, and it needs to happen soon, and the last thing you would ever let yourself do is to get swayed away from your goal the moment you take action, just like it had happened before.
But you cannot afford for it to happen again. Not now, not ever, and especially not after all sacrifices that you had made the day you left this town for good three years ago.
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Not too many changes had been done to the house that you grew up in since the last time you were home.
The wallpapers and the floorboards had been changed, and you also know that your Dad had done some renovating over the years that you were mostly gone, but he kept a lot of part from the old house to make it look all the same. You can still breathe in the faint scent of stale paint and glue and must from old wood lingering in the air, though everything feels muted when they are mixed with the scent of fresh paint and freshly cut wood that still remains after the past renovations.
All the mixed fragrances are soon masked away with a set of new ones, as the delectable aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the meat dish cooking in the oven continue wafting in the air as your mother makes her way back and forth between the kitchen and the dining room to set up dinner. Your mother had made it obvious that your arrival had been a surprising one, when she screamed at the top of her lungs the moment she opened the front door to see you standing there on the other side. Especially since you had no chance to let her know about your sudden visit, an afterthought that had only occurred to you the moment you were knocking on the door. But she was quick to recover from her shock, replacing it with excitement and had instantly taken action in preparing a large dinner to welcome you even if your Dad and your brother have yet to arrive home.
“How was your flight? Did they serve you one of those snack boxes like the one I got when I came home from seeing you last time? Unless you got on the first class flight. They still serve you a full course meal for those expensive tickets they’re selling, don’t they?” Your mother keeps throwing random questions as she is busy preparing the meal, while she keeps insisting that you simply remain in your seat instead of helping her with her tasks. You only respond to her questions with one short answer at a time while trying to sneak in some lending hand whenever she isn’t looking—from checking on the oven’s heat to stirring the pot of meatball sauce while she has her hands full with the other.
“Have you gone to see anyone yet since you landed? Have you heard from Missy? Did you hear that she’s pregnant with her third child? Third!” your mother keeps rambling on, waving her spatula at you while speaking louder with her voice rising with each sentence. You have no idea whether she is completely hyped over the fact that your childhood best friend is having another little one on the way or if she is just happy to have you home this year after your long absence in the house. Even better, that you had arrived a lot earlier and with almost a week to spare before Christmas would arrive.
Her joy is somehow contagious that you cannot help but laugh just as she accidentally splatters some sauce anywhere but the pot where the fresh sauce is boiling.
“Mom, slow down. You’re tossing that tomato sauce all over the kitchen,” you tell her while pointing at her spatula and the sauce dripping from it before she tosses it back to the pot where her special meatball dish is currently cooking. “And no, I haven’t gone to see anyone yet. I drove straight here and avoided going through downtown—”
To avoid having people seeing me around before I can at least prepare myself to deal with them and all their questions, you silently add.
“I haven’t even called Missy yet. Maybe I will in the morning or I can go the her family’s diner a bit later to pay a visit.”
Your mother shakes her head. “You must be exhausted. Look at those bags under your eyes, and have you been eating properly?” she keeps asking you while pinching at your cheeks. “You always work so hard and I know that you’d be skipping meals if I don’t call you everyday to remind you of it.”
“I’m fine, Mom. It’s probably just the jet-lag,” you simply answer her before she would go ranting about the way you have been living in the big city. She had always been giving you the same lecture after she had caught you red-handed tossing away a week worth of takeout boxes out of your apartment when she made a sudden visit to see you. Then, as if your body agrees with you, you suddenly feel your shoulders dropping and you find yourself yawning.
“Oh, look at you,” your mother comments right as she sees it. “There will be no more of you going around town tonight. We’re going to sit down for dinner and then you’re going to go upstairs to sleep it off.”
You open your mouth to protest, only to have your mother shaking her head and pushing you away from the frying pan that you have been fiddling with. “Now, go sit back down! Don’t you dare think that I haven’t noticed what you’ve been doing. Now, shoo!”
You laugh softly as you let her kick you out of the kitchen while muttering, “Yes, mother.”
Not long after, your mother sits with you at the dining table as she tries to feed you every single meal on the table while asking about how your life has been. Your father is still out at work, giving the two of you a chance to catch up more freely and for you to gently bring up the real reason why you had returned home without the intense way your father would be reading through your lies if he had been home already.
You had tossed the engagement ring into your purse when you first arrived, keeping it hidden from your mother’s eyes. Despite the fact that you have only had it on for a few weeks, you still feel like there is something missing as you raise your left hand up. You can barely ignore the indentation on your ring finger that you keep rubbing your thumb over it, brushing against the odd feeling of void that the ring had left behind.
All through dinner, your mother keeps you updated on the rumour mills, letting you know about how the neighbourhood has been changing and everything there is to know about the people in town. You listen halfheartedly, responding with the usual murmurs of yes and no or ask her more about what she is telling you, even if you are slowly feeling the weight of your news looming, pushing you to the edge to make you want to just spill everything in the open.
You look at your mother and see that she seems to be holding back too. Not in the way she is talking about the town, however, but from asking you the questions that you can see lingering in her eyes each time she gives you her quick glances.
Once you are done with the first course of the meatball dish and your mother stands up from her seat to give you a second offering, you can no longer take it anymore.
“I’m going to see him,” you finally tell your mother, still feeling a bit tense about admitting it, though you feel good for finally voicing it out.
Your mother only looks at you for a moment before releasing a deep sigh and returning to her seat. “So that’s why you came home, huh? I was wondering if there’s something more going on,” she says, sounding a bit regretful as a sad smile comes to her face. “I thought that might be the case, but I kept telling myself—” she stops only to shake her head. “It’s been so many years.”
“That’s the point. It’s been years too long,” you answer your mother with a solemn nod. “I need to settle the things going on between us for good.”
Your mother purses her lips together. “Can’t you guys just talk about it like decent adults first? You know, maybe you can find a middle ground and work on—”
At her question, and whatever it is that she has going on in her thoughts, you can only sigh and shake your head. “I tried, Mom. Things wouldn’t have turned out this way if not for him suddenly turning away from me before actually giving a chance for us to talk about it like two adults,” you tell her, explaining to her for the umpteenth time already, just like how you would always do every year when this topic comes up.
“Why now? After all these years, why have you suddenly decided that you want to see him in person now?”
You open your mouth to answer but find yourself unable to speak. How are you supposed to explain the fact that you had somehow agreed to marry someone that your parents don’t really know anything about? And while this hurdle had been getting in your way for too long already, it wasn’t until the moment you put on Matthew’s ring and have the images of your future flashing in your eyes when you realise that you can no longer let it hold you back from moving on.
You know that no matter how well you can find a way to explain it, neither one of your parents is going to be happy to know what is going on or to understand the reason why you are taking an action after years of being silent.
“I can’t tell you why just yet, I just—” you begin to speak, shaking your head again before looking at her. “It’s time, Mom. Don’t you think?”
Your mother looks completely somber when she nods. There is a voice in the back of your mind that is telling you that perhaps your mother knows that something is up. But you refuse to admit it, hoping that she simply thinks of this as a way for you to make things right.
“You’re right. I think you really should talk to him,” she says to you, finally, keeping her voice soft as she speaks before pointing a finger at you as she adds, “And I mean really talk to him properly without screaming at each other.”
Her comment reminds you back to three years ago, when you were much younger and you still had lack control of your emotions that you had allowed the townspeople to witness it when you were fighting with him in public. It was catastrophic, and there is no doubt that people still remembers that day, perhaps even better than what your memory had served you. Chuckling sheepishly to yourself, you raise your hand up and look at your mother with a sly grin. “You know I can’t promise you anything yet, but I’ll do my best to reign down my anger.”
“As you both should,” she says, only to stop briefly and glance over to the empty seat where your father would usually sit during dinner. Except for tonight, as he was stuck dealing with a little problem at work. “And, um—I need you to do me a favour,” your mother speaks to you softly, almost to whisper before turning to look at you. “Don’t let your Dad know what you might decide to do about all of this until it’s time, you hear me?”
For a moment there, you are left speechless, wondering if your mother had found out about what is truly going on. But looking at her doesn’t give you an answer, not when she isn’t giving you much of it when she keeps her face blank, only filled with the firm look in her eyes as she waits for you to agree with her.
“I won’t tell him anything until I’ve handled things.”
Your answer seems to please her, enough to bring back her smile. Your mother pats gently on your left hand, showing her gratitude without so much of a word before she leaves her seat to finally get you that second serving of her homemade meatball dish. As she leaves, your eyes find your hand, focusing on the empty ring finger that suddenly feels heavy with an invisible weight, carried by the secret that you simply cannot wait to let go of.
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“How does it feel to be back home?”
Listening to Matthew’s voice on the phone makes you want to close your eyes and exhale a deep sigh. In fact, that is just what you do as you lean against the side of your rented city car, basking in the rumbles of Matthew’s deep voice that you have started to miss a lot despite the fact that you had just spent time with him last weekend.
“It feels—good, and odd at the same time,” you answer him with a chuckle, opening your eyes to look around you and take in the sight of the beautiful town where you grew up in.
There is a whole lot of truth in your words when you talk about being home. Being here feels good. Everything about it feels right—the fresh air, the clean roads and sidewalks, the artsy walls and the old buildings, the familiar scents, and all the places that remind you of your childhood and all the years you spent causing trouble and trying to find yourself through your teen years.
But it is certainly different here compared to the big city. In the city, you are nearly invisible. Surrounded by all the people who only care about their own personal businesses, on living it through the day and following the quick pace of the city life that you have become a part of for the past nearly seven years. Everything here appears in brighter colours, slightly muted compared to the colours you see in the city, where everything seems more vibrant and bold and awfully loud. Everyone here moves at a slower pace, as if they are savouring every second of their day as they go about it town, finishing their personal businesses without so much of a rush, sometimes even stopping just to have a chat with anyone they come across. It has been a sight that is completely unlike what you have grown used to seeing back in the city, where people would rush to get from one spot to another as soon as they can without even bother paying attention to the people they come across as they continue to live and move along to follow the constant ripple pulsing within the city
You almost forgot that you had once been a part of this town.
And you have just been reminded that everyone in this town knows each other.
There is no doubt that the news of your arrival may have already reached him. There is nothing you can do to escape it when you came across Ruth, the gossip girl of the town, when you dropped by at the bank in town this morning. Not to mention the fact that your uncle may have gone to see him early morning when you know that they are still doing their morning runs together. Funny how life changes over the years and yet some things just remain the same.
Everything—and everyone—in this town seems to remain completely the same.
And that is when you start questioning just where do you fit in all of this. Or if you still fit here at all.
“Baby? Is everything okay?” you hear Matthew’s voice from the phone still pressed to your ear, snapping you from your wandering thoughts, and only then do you realise that he has been saying stuff on the phone which you have obviously missed.
“Yes,” you quickly answer him while chastising yourself for it. “I’m sorry, I got distracted. You were saying?”
Matthew lets out a soft chuckle through the phone, as if he already knows your antics, and that he had grown used to noticing you spacing out so randomly when you are not focusing completely the way you would when you are working. “I was saying how sorry I am that I can’t be there. You know, it would’ve been better if I had joined you to meet your family if you’re going to let them know about our engagement, don’t you think? I should’ve been there with you to do it. I have to meet them at some point, right?”
“Right,” you answer him with a small voice while you feel your breath getting caught in your throat. You had gone through all of this before, having him question why he isn’t here with you and you had always tried to explain the best you could about why you have to do this alone. With him constantly bringing it up on each phone call, you are not completely sure just how much longer you can keep going with this ruse and how soon the truth will come out.
You are thankful for the fact that he is unable to see you this way, but you still try your best to recover and answer him lightly, “But you know, you also have that family thing this Christmas and the gala. I feel like I have to do this on my own—”
Because your Dad’s heart might not be able to survive it if you had brought a man into your parents’ home and your Mom would blow a torch once she drops her gaze on Matthew.
And then there’s the gossip.
Oh, what would people say if you had come home with Matthew instead of coming here alone? Once again, the weight of the engagement ring that you have kept inside your purse feels heavy. This time, it feels heavier than the tightness in your chest that you have to press your free hand harder against the side of your purse as if the tiny little thing is pulsing from within and everyone in town might be able to sense its presence from a mile away.
“—because you know, I already told you that my parents might be a bit old-fashioned about this, yet I feel like I need to send the news to them lightly.”
“Yeah, I get it. I mean, I don’t think I can escape this charity gala even if I’d wanted to,” he says, and you feel even more guilty for lying when you can hear the smile in his voice.
Not lying, omitting the truth, as you have told yourself time and time again.
“But—” he adds, “At least you’re going to be back here for New Year’s Eve, right? My parents have been going on and on about the family dinner and the gathering. Don’t worry, I kept my promise not to tell them about the engagement until then, but they still ask about you a lot, wondering if you’re going to be here.”
“I’ll be there,” you quickly answer him, just when you hear the sound of a door opening. “Listen, Matthew honey. I have to go. Can I call you back later tonight?”
“Of course,” he says. “I have to stop by at the office briefly before heading to the gym and then I’m off to see my Dad for lunch right after my workout. You take care over there, alright? I love you.”
“Me too.”
Ending the call, you toss the phone into your purse and push yourself away from the car. You begin to walk carefully on the gravel-covered pathway heading to the old building in front of you—the old place that you had once remembered as the old wooden barn turned into the town’s farmers’ tavern which, at some point, had come near of being torn down.
The place had once called the Spinning Horse Pub, where you would see drunken old men hanging out there at night after spending all day doing labour work, tossing glasses and passing around the local beer while singing old folksongs completely out of tune and with all the wrong lyrics, the sight which ended up leaving kids scarred and slightly traumatised at the sight of adulthood.
Today, the place is called the Moonlit Bar, standing pristine with a mix of brick walls and polished wooden floors, stained glass windows, and blues music humming faintly from inside just as the front door swings open.
After years of not seeing him in person, you had thought that you would have a problem finding him. But it had turned out that he had been keeping contact with your parents, especially your Dad—in extension of him spending his free time with your uncle—and you had found out just where to ambush him without creating so much of a hassle or to attract the attention that you obviously have no time or energy to deal with.
Your heels sink between the gravels as you continue to walk closer towards the bar. The sounds of men talking are heard as you grow closer, followed by a series of laughter coming with the voice that you have known for a long time. Even before you can see him, as the talking men are still concealed behind the truck that is parked right in front of the bar, your heartbeat has already started picking up, pounding rapidly the closer you are to get to him. And with each pound of your heartbeat, you can feel the ominous throb coming from the ring inside your purse, further intensifying all the tension you currently have running through your body.
And then, finally, you are there, right where you need to be after walking around the parked truck to be able to have a clear view of the bar’s own front door, only to stumble right the moment you find him.
Standing on the front porch, looking all gloriously in his presence is Kim Namjoon, the man and the devil himself, whose wide smile that he shared with his friend falls for a brief moment at the sight of you coming over to him before his lips curl up to a sly grin.
Namjoon waves at his friend who knows not to stay and is already hopping away to his parked car in the lot before he turns to you. “Well, look at what the cat dragged in,” he says, leaning back against a column on the front porch with his arms crossed as he takes you in. His eyes are glowing with mirth, though you can sense him holding something back, using his haughtiness against you to hold it back in.
You stop on your tracks, staying just a few steps away from the porch’s stairs as you cross your own arms. “I thought you were allergic to cats.”
Namjoon shrugs. “Still am,” he says, dragging his words while he drags his gaze, looking at you from the top of your head and down to your fancy heels. His intense gaze makes you feel self-conscious, while your skin begins to flush not only for the way he is looking at you, but also at the sight of him.
With the years that had gone by, you have never expected to see him changing this much. He has always been so tall, but the last time you had seen him, he was still his lanky old self, completely careless to the way he looked or how he presented himself.
Today, he is standing there with his flannel shirt, the short sleeves folded up all the way to his shoulders, exposing his strong arms, muscles grown from the years that he had no doubt been spending working out and out on runs, all flexed tightly for your eyes to see as he keeps his arms crossed defiantly over his chest. And then there is his chest, looking all buff and strong, unlike the way he used to be back then, when he had looked way smaller compared to your massive built uncle who had insisted to have him join his exercises and workouts, when he appeared frail that it made you worry a lot whenever he had to deal with his carpentry and especially when he had taken the job at his father’s construction business.
All of a sudden, you feel the urge to clench your hands, only because a flash of memory comes into your head. You still remember how it felt to run your hands down his skin, how he would shudder under your touch when you pressed your palms on his chest. And then your mind wanders yet again, only to imagine what it would feel like if you would run your palms down to his chest today, to trace his tight muscles, to feel the heat of his skin, and—
“So what are you doing here, stranger? Did you get lost? Forgot your way back to the big city?” he begins questioning you, snapping you right out of your trance. You look up to see his eyes, noticing the way they are glinting with amusement, as if he had caught on to you ogling at him.
“No, actually. I’m here looking for you,” you respond to him while averting your gaze, shaking your head to shake off the blunder that has suddenly gotten into you and get your mind out of the gutter.
“Oh, really?” he asks, sounding intrigued. “Mind if I ask why?”
Again, your heartbeat picks up, and you swallow deeply to stop yourself from throwing up out of nerves. Pressing your lips together, you reach into your purse to pull out a brown envelope that contains the papers that you had prepared prior to coming here. Taking it in your hand, you take a few steps closer to him and hand it out for him to grab.
“I’m here for this,” you tell him, keeping your voice calm and steady as you continue, “I want you to sign the divorce papers. And I’m going to need you to do it now.”
His eyes fall on the envelope that you are handing out to him, a flicker of his surprise and his emotions that you cannot really read from him appear in his gaze for a brief moment before they disappear, replaced by a look of astonishment that comes together with his smile.
“No,” is all that he says to you.
“What?” you simply gasp out your reaction while your courage simply shatters into pieces.
“I said no. I’m not signing that.”
Rage comes boiling in your blood and you lower your hand roughly that the envelope brushes against your thigh with a loud slap. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, I’m not signing.”
“Why? What’s the point?” you try to protest. Stopping only to take a deep breath to calm yourself down before levelling your voice, keeping it down when you continue to speak, “Namjoon, we’ve been separated for a long time. We never even talked nor have we seen each other since I left town, much less living like a normal pair of husband and wife. Do you really want us to get stuck in this—this, whatever this is, until we both grow old, despising one another while we’re rotting to death?”
Namjoon’s gaze turns hard as he lowers his arms. “I’m not signing because I can’t.”
“What the hell does that even mean?” you hiss at him, though it doesn’t seem that getting emotional is doing much to help you in this matter.
Namjoon exhales a deep sigh and looks around him. He keeps his eyes looking far away and over your shoulder, staring at the shadows that aren’t exactly present when he speaks, “Why don’t you come inside so we can talk properly without worrying about people listening in? I know that I owe you at least a drink or two.” His eyes find you again before he gives you a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, the same eyes that are still giving you a hard gaze. “What do you say, city girl? Or are you too fancy now to try out the local brews?”
You keep staring at him with disbelief as he turns around and makes his way back into the tavern without waiting for your response. Deep down, you know that he is right. It would be better to be talking about this inside, away from any prying eyes and curious ears listening in. God knows what the rumour mill is already spreading about the connection between your return and your visit to Namjoon’s bar while you are standing out here for everyone to see. And you are also curious to hear about what he is about to tell you. After taking a quick look around you, you slip the envelope back into your purse and dust off your skirt from the invisible dust before stepping up onto the porch.
Namjoon is still standing by the entrance, waiting for you to follow as he holds the door open for you. His smile doesn’t seem at all welcoming when you look at him, but feels more like a taunt. Despite knowing that you would be caught in a place where he holds all control, you don’t stop yourself from going around him and walk through the door. “Let’s get this over with,” you tell him as you walk past, only to have him responding to you with a deep chuckle as you sense him following you in.
“Oh, Sweet Cheeks, you have no idea. I haven’t even started yet.”
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Stepping into his bar feels like stepping into a completely different world from what you had outside.
Even in the daytime, the bar had been kept slightly dark, with only a few probe lights illuminating the room from the corners of the seating area, some lights are spread around the bar, and some of the brightest are set around the empty stage in the center of the room, highlighting the music instruments placed there to be ready for use. You can feel Namjoon’s warmth as he follows close, right until the moment you come to a halt at the center of the room and he walks around you to make his way towards the bar counter.
He says nothing as he looks over his shoulder to meet your gaze, but the look in his eyes is enough to have you following him towards the bar. You can see that a few patrons are present as you walk across the room, and neither of them are looking your way. Some of them are enjoying their meal, while some are simply there to chat with each other while enjoying their beer and the light music playing from the old jukebox across the room. The silly device looks awfully too bright against the darker room around it, catching your attention so easily. Judging from the looks of it and how old it seems, you wonder just how that thing is still running.
Namjoon stops at a seating booth nearby the bar counter, quite hidden from the rest of the place. Simply perfect to finally have the talk. He watches you coming closer and gives you his sweet and charming smile that you have grown used to know, added with a pinch of his smugness, then motions for you to take the seat right across from him.
“You seem to be doing well. And I have to admit that this place looks nice,” you say to him after a beat of silence. You find it almost awkward to be sitting here with him and not saying anything. But you have found a long time ago that both you and Namjoon had always managed to find comfort in your silence.
Except that part of your life had ended a long time ago, and you barely know the man who is sitting right in front of you today.
Namjoon’s lips curl up to a smile, and you can tell that he is pleased to hear your compliment and he takes a lot of pride in bringing this place together. You can obviously see it when he leans back, taking a good look at the place with a look of wonder in his eyes. And you cannot help but admit that you share the same pride inside you for seeing how far he had gone since you left.
“How did you find me?” he suddenly asks you before his eyes find you again.
You keep your eyes on him for a moment, studying the look he is giving you only to give up when you find nothing. Giving him a shrug, you answer him with a small smile. “Small town. Everyone talks. Just ask the right question to the right people and they all come pointing their fingers to help me find you.”
Namjoon grins. “Your uncle told you about this place, didn’t he? Did he specifically told you that you can find me here today?”
A chuckle escapes you as you nod. “He came to the house to barge into our dinner last night the moment he heard from Dad that I was home. Couldn’t stop talking about you and how you managed to pick this place back up and keeping it from falling to the ground. Said you re-built everything with your own two hands.”
Namjoon simply gives you nothing but silence instead of confirming what your uncle had told you last night. And he did more than just to let you know where you can find and perhaps corner Namjoon into talking to you.
You had thought that your uncle may have been exaggerating things when he talked about Namjoon and about all the things that the man had done for the town ever since you left. But seeing this place now and how he carries himself around the bar and around you is beginning to make you wonder just how much things have truly changed since then. There is a glint in his eyes that is hard for you to decipher, though it makes you feel like he is able to look through you without so much of saying a word. You open your mouth to speak again, to strike a conversation, to say anything, just to keep the ball rolling and to start getting straight to the point where he would provide some answers, only to be interrupted by a waitress who comes sidling to the side of the booth.
You turn to the girl, expecting her to ask for your orders just so you can quickly send her away, only to realise that she doesn’t even have her eyes on you. The waitress simply stands there with her hips popped to the side, keeping one arm pressed around the underside of her boobs to practically push the girls up and making them look bigger as the peak of the mound come peeking from over her low cut shirt and her other hand is nowhere close to holding her notes. To you, she appears to be a bit—ditzy, as she tries to gain Namjoon’s attention, but her presence amuses you too much to make a comment out of it.
“What are you having, Joonie?” she asks with a voice slightly whining to make herself sound cute for your dear husband, and yet Namjoon pays her no attention, giving her not even a glance as he keeps his eyes on you.
Amused at this development, you lean back in your seat and cross your arms over your chest to taunt him. “Yes, what are we having, Joonie?”
Namjoon’s lips twitch for a brief moment, as if he is holding back a smile. Yet he keeps his eyes locked on your face when he finally answers, “I’ll have the beer from the tap, and tell Bernie to make my wife here a glass of Manhattan.”
You glance over as the poor waitress stiffens. Her eyes grow wide as she glances back and forth between you and her employer before she stutters, “Y-your wife?”
Leaning forward, you address the girl with a sly grin. “You heard the man. And yes, I’m his dear old wife. Please make sure that Bernie makes mine a little sweet, will you?” you ask her, making her look even more flustered before nodding. “Thank you, darling,” you call out to her with a teasing wink right as she starts scrambling off towards the bar where Bernie—your father’s old fishing mate who is also Namjoon’s second cousin—is tending the bar.
The sound of Namjoon’s deep chuckle pulls your attention back to him. You remember how that sound used to make your stomach twist with butterflies fluttering inside you, and you hate to admit that it is still giving you the same effect, albeit a bit muted due to the fact that everything between you had turned into shambles. You simply doubt that you can escape from feeling all the pain coming back to you again each time you think of the past, so you suppress the sensation happening inside your belly, ignoring it the best you can as you begin to push him into talking.
“Why won’t you sign the divorce papers, Namjoon? I’ve been sending them to you so we can get things over with without us having to go through the court and all the unnecessary legal battles you know waiting for us. All you had to do was sign them. I thought you wanted this? Why do you keep sending them back to me?”
Namjoon says nothing, but keeps his eyes looking down on the table while he rubs his hand over his rugged face. The moment his gaze finds yours again, it looks terribly guarded, as if there is a wall standing between you and he has chosen to hide behind it.
“Don’t you want to move on, maybe get lucky with little miss sweet thing right there?” you ask him with a tilt of your head aimed at the waitress who still seems a bit frazzled as she talks rapidly with another girl. The disbelief on their faces seems almost comical, though it brings an odd feeling into your chest to know that there are girls like them, other women, that he could pick from. Women who seem to adore him the way that waitress does.
While you are suddenly left wondering about this, the question that you have given him finally draws a reaction from him, even if it only comes in the form of a scoff. His eyes soften for a brief moment when he holds back another smile, before they both disappear the moment he notices you watching, soon to be replaced with a faked mirth when he shrugs. “She’s not my type. Frankly, I’m not that big into dating when I legally still have a wife. Even if she’s busy trying to conquer the world, leaving me in this town to rescue old buildings from falling into the ground.”
This time, you are the one giving him a scoff. “Don’t tell me you haven’t been with anyone else since we separated.”
Namjoon doesn’t answer you right away, but falls silent instead. Leaning forward, he crosses his arms and rests them on the table as he levels his gaze on you. His eyes are intense, piercing through you just enough to make you shudder, that you nearly miss it when he answers you with, “I haven’t.”
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“When Daisy told me that Namjoon’s wife is here, I just had to come and deliver these drinks myself.”
Bernie’s large figure fills the space around you just by standing at the side of the booth. He drops the large-sized tankard filled with beer with a loud thump on the table for Namjoon while he sets down your martini cocktail gently for you. Seeing him there and listening to his boastful laugh makes your heart feel warn that you cannot resist sliding out of the booth to wrap your arms around him.
“Bernie, it’s good to see you,” you hum softly as you embrace the man who had become more like a second father to you at some point in your life.
“You look awfully good for a city girl,” Bernie says after patting gently on your back and releasing you. He crosses his arms over his chest, his gaze looking up and down as he takes you in. You have no idea what he sees in you, but you can see pride coming out of his gaze. “Heard from your uncle this morning that you’re home. Didn’t expect to see you hanging around this side of town, much less to visit here. The drink’s on the house, my treat to welcome you home,” he says, nodding at your untouched glass while Namjoon gives him a light scoff. The big guy turns to your soon-to-be ex-husband and raises his eyebrows. “What? You can just cut it off my pay.”
“There’s no need, big guy. He already said he’s paying for this,” you say to him before Namjoon can say a thing.
Bernie raises his brows once more. “Really, now? Then the second glass will be my treat,” he says, before wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulls you in to whisper, “Just don’t tell your Dad I gave you more than a glass.”
His sly comment makes you laugh. “You know I’ve passed being twenty-one a long time ago, Bernie. Dad should know that I can handle my drinks just fine.”
“Oh, but you’ll always be your Dad’s baby girl even if you’ve made it big in the city. You know that, don’t ya?” Bernie says with a shake of his head, and then he follows your eyes as you take a good look around, noticing some of the areas that you had failed to pay attention to when you first came in. “See what he did to the place, Pumpkin? Joon here did all of this by himself—with a lot of our help, of course. Said he did it all for—”
“Bernie,” Namjoon quickly cuts him off before Bernie can say anything else. The bartender looks over with a questioning gaze while Namjoon simply stays calm. “You got some customers coming.”
You raise a questioning brow at him, wondering just what Bernie may have been trying to tell you before he was cut off. But Namjoon tilts his chin up towards the bar’s entrance and both you and Bernie turn to look. Sure enough, a group of young men walk past the front door just then, almost too conveniently, letting Bernie know that it is time for him to get back on the job. The big man looks over his shoulder to you and shrugs.
“Right. Well, I’ll catch up with you a little later, Pumpkin,” he says as he playfully messes with your hair before turning back to the bar.
“Take care, big Bernie,” you call out to him then return to your seat, facing Namjoon once again. You avert your eyes when you find him still watching you, taking your time as you taste the drink that had been made for you with a few small sips while letting it run down your throat to calm your nerves.
“So, where were we?” you ask him while leaning back in your seat.
Namjoon remains calm when he answers, “The papers.”
You nod. “And you were telling me why you’re still not signing.”
Once again, Namjoon gives you nothing but silence. He takes a few big gulps from his drink, making you wait until he sets the glass down and leans forward. “Why do you want to get out of this marriage so bad?” he finally asks you, looking awfully curious as he studies your face. Neither of you says a thing until the glint of mirth in his eyes dims down and his smile falls, bringing a painful pinch into your chest upon seeing his reaction. And the pinch brings even more pain when he mutters softly, “You’ve found someone.”
You frown at your hands, unable to look at him. “I’m just trying to move on, Joon.”
Namjoon nods with a blank expression on his face. “And I already told you that I can’t sign it.”
You raise your head and frown at him. “And why is that, exactly?”
Suddenly, his face turns a little sour, though you can see a flash of sadness coming across his face. “Winny.”
Your breath gets caught in your throat while you can feel your heart plummeting down your stomach at the mention of her name. Winny, Namjoon’s grandmother and—legally still—your grandmother-in-law. Though Winny is not exactly her real name, the name that toddler Namjoon had officially given her when he couldn’t specifically call her as ’grandma’ nor that he could pronounce her name properly at such a young age. The name had stuck with your grandmother-in-law ever since, and she had always let both you and Namjoon continue using the name to address her while growing up together, and it had even lasted until you both have grown into adults.
“Did you know that Winny got a heart attack early this year?” Namjoon asks you, and you are beginning to see just where this is all going.
Nodding your head, you take your glass in your hand, taking one swipe of a drink before you can talk about it. “Your Mom called to tell me about it when it just happened. I called your grandmother after she woke up from it and we talked through the phone for a long time,” you begin to tell him, sighing deeply as you recall about the phone conversation that you had with her at the time. A frown comes to you when you recall how the conversation went, how she reacted to your voice, and sympathy comes when you remember everything that she said to you then, “She seemed confused, asking me why I’m not back for the term break yet and if I’ll be home for the holidays. She kept talking as if I hadn’t finished law school or even had the job in the firm yet, and it sounded like she believed that we’re still together.”
Namjoon studies your face for a moment. “And yet you still didn’t question it, nor did you correct her to remind her that we are no longer happily married, or that you had graduated from school years ago.”
Slowly, you only shake your head. “I had to play along cause I didn’t want to upset her.”
Namjoon takes another drink. You can see the sadness in his eyes returning to him full force and it has you doing everything you can to hold back from reaching out to him and hold his hands to give him some comfort. Ever since he was a little boy, Namjoon had always been close to Winny. His grandmother had always been strict to all of her grandchildren, but the woman had treated him a bit special back when he was growing up while at the same time, treated him as if he was her own child, giving him advices that had eventually helped guide Namjoon up to a point where he started making his own mess. That was how the two of them formed a bond with each other when Namjoon was entering adulthood. A tight bond that had always been so strong that you know it would have been hard for Namjoon to deal with her illness.
“She called me this morning, said she heard that you came back home. I’m not sure how she found out, but she was asking a lot of questions about you. She specifically wanted to know why I haven’t taken you to see her yet and if there’s any specific food she should cook for you to welcome you back. Though she might be asking my Mom for help on that,” Namjoon says with a low chuckle, shaking his head. “That was how I found out that you were back in town.”
Hearing this, you can only sigh. You hate to think of the strong-willed woman having trouble with her memories and dealing with her regular days. “What did you say to her?”
Namjoon only shrugs. “I just told her that you might still be exhausted from the trip, and that you would call her once you have gotten some time settling in. You know, all of that. Even if I had no idea how to make that happen. Just like Bernie said, neither of us really expected you’d be coming here on your own.”
You look down on your hands, wondering how things seem to suddenly be on your way. It seems like fate is trying to test you. Just like how it did years ago when you were younger, when you were too hot-headed to play along and had ended up leaving.
Namjoon leans in, whispering softly just so you can be the only one to hear it when he says, “She’s still confused, ______. Her memory is still stuck in the past after that heart attack.”
“I realised that much when I talked to her. I was hoping that it would gradually get better in time. I guess that was a bit too much to hope for,” you answer him, nodding your head solemnly. Deep down, you really do feel sad for her. Winny had always been larger than life, easy and fun to be with, and had always been the wise voice that you listened to when you were still together with Namjoon. The situation makes you feel bad about it. And yet, it doesn’t stop you from wondering, “What does signing the divorce papers have to do with Winny’s condition?”
Namjoon pinches his lips together and clenches his jaw for a moment. “The old Winny before the heart attack had known that we were separated. And though she kept trying to get us to reconcile, she was starting to accept the fact that we may never get back together,” he says, lowering his voice as he speaks, even if there is no one getting close enough to listen in. “Present-day Winny still thinks that you are returning next year after finishing law school and that we are still going to run her old office once my dad and uncle retire.”
Sighing, you murmur softly to yourself when you finally understand, “She still thinks that we’re together and still happily married.”
Namjoon’s jaw tightens when he nods his head. “That’s not the only problem,” he whispers, sounding nearly like a groan when he is speaking while letting out an exasperated sigh. “Do you remember our deal, when we first got into this marriage?”
Your mind instantly flies back to the past. To the moment when you had just graduated from high school, when you were both had been so young and lost after making one of the biggest mistakes of your lives and receiving a blessing that had come at the worst period of time, and how both your family and Namjoon’s had cornered you both to the point that you had almost agreed to Namjoon’s suggestion of running away and eloping just to escape their wrath. That had been a messy time of your lives until Winny swooped in, playing devil’s advocate as she tried to diffuse the situation in her own way before all hell would break loose.
Then you are reminded of the one crucial part of the entire ordeal that had changed everything.
The trust fund.
The account that Winny had set up for your small growing family, all to ease the tension running through both families upon finding out their high school graduates kids were expecting a baby instead of college acceptance letters, and to reassure both you and Namjoon that you would be taken care of no matter what your fathers had tried to punish you both with. It was the part of the deal that had you agreeing to legally marry each other before the baby would come along and to have it occurring right in front of your entire family and about a half part of the town attending the ceremony as witnesses.
How you had forgotten about all of this is beyond you. It feels like such a long time ago, a distant memory of your past that had somehow gotten buried almost completely in the back of your mind. And yet, you can feel the same dread and grief that you haven’t felt for a long time rolling through you at the thought of it.
“After we lost our—” Namjoon’s voice breaks before he could say it out loud, and he clears his throat before he can continue. “She still kept the trust fund, telling my Dad that she would one day hand everything to both of us if we ever get back together.”
Your eyes grow wide upon hearing this. Though you have always known what Winny had been planning to do, you had never thought that she would actually keep her words. And that she would have waited for this long to keep the account running despite seeing no other possibilities that you and Namjoon would come back together.
Rubbing a hand over his face, Namjoon looks at you with a mix of hope and depletion in his eyes, before he finally gets to the point. “I have—some plans. Big plans. And I won’t lie to you, I’m going to need that money. I thought that perhaps I could just borrow it so I can have things running and then I would return them once everything pulls through. Just as long as she doesn’t go and donate the funds someplace else first. That’s what she said to us, by the way. That she’d rather hand the money to someone else that would actually care about it than let it sit in her account with nowhere to go because we’re too stubborn to—you know.”
Surprised to hear this new development, on what sounds more like a threat that—you do have to admit—does sound like something Winny would say, you cannot help but laugh. “Would she really do something like that?”
Namjoon’s lips curl to a small smile. “She may have implied a few times—almost at least twice each year—that she would do it one day. That was before she got sick,” he says with a sigh, and you can only shake your head in wonder.
“So how are we supposed to do this? How are the legal work and the papers play a role in this?”
Namjoon ponders about it for a moment before speaking with a low voice, “I’ll sign the papers, if you really want me to, but I’m going to need your help first. My parents have been talking about having a family retreat, rent a cottage up in the mountains for a quiet Christmas family outing so Winny can get the break she needs. Initially, it would have been just us, the immediate family. But Winny already knows that you’re in town and she sounded terribly excited to see you and to spend time with you while you’re here, so I figured that this might be a good chance.”
And too much of a coincidence, you wonder to yourself. But you say nothing. Because Namjoon has no way to arrange all of this just when you are coming back just to sever the ties. Once again, you curse at fate, hating the way you are forced to play its game yet again.
“Come with me, join us, stay a bit longer in town, just until after we’ve shown Winny that we’re doing okay. You know that she adores you so much, so maybe having you with her would help her get better,” Namjoon continues, sounding almost pleading when he shares his ideas. “Unfortunately, playing a role and acting like a regular married couple in front of her won’t be enough. We need to make sure that we’re still legally married while we’re doing all of that act together, just in case she goes out of her way and checks everything out.”
Chuckling softly, you cannot help but smile. “Knowing Winny, I suppose that we do have to prepare for something like that to happen. As long as she finds a way, she’d be digging everything out to expose us for deceiving her,” you murmur softly as you think of Winny and her antics.
Namjoon laughs. “Don’t forget that she has her own lawyers. Might not be as big as you guys in the big city, but these people would do anything that Winny asks them to. I don’t think my Dad or uncle would be able to do anything to cover it up once the divorce is legalised before I can get my hands on the money.”
Laughing at this, you know that he is absolutely right. Your mind flies back to another period of time in the past where Winny had gone and send out her lawyers to handle the mess that her grandchildren had created all over town. Once, she had even sent out the same lawyers to investigate the tenant of a new apartment building where Namjoon’s sister lived, accusing them of trying to con the poor girl by setting up some shady deals when she was trying to extend her rent for another year.
Winny had always been protective of her family, and she had always managed to find a way, no matter how extensive, to make sure everyone is safe.
“How important is it to you to pull this through? How badly do you want—no, need it, that you have to go this far?”
Namjoon smiles at your question. “You tell me. You are the one who has always had big dreams to chase,” he says, and you can sense a sudden change in his voice. Something that sounds wistful, while at the same time, a bit envious, even. But then his expression turns a bit solemn. “But I also want to see Winny get better. We’ve tried everything. We’ve turned to different doctors, hospitals, specialists, and we even got her through a bunch of therapies that did no good but left her feeling tired all the time that we had to stop everything before things would go from bad to worse. You are pretty much our only hope at this point.”
And mine.
Those were the words that he didn’t say out loud, but you can see it in his eyes. The desperate need to make sure that things will go in his way. It makes you curious to know what he has planned, perhaps something to do with his project on restoring old places and bringing this town back up—just like what your uncle said about something that Namjoon seems to want.
There is a mix of different feelings running inside you after listening to him speak. Starting with a punch in the gut when he mentioned your ‘dreams’, feeling like he was taunting you about it. Then there is the same pinch of sympathy and dread when you think about the woman that you had looked up to for a long time having such a hard time. Suddenly, you just want to be there for her, to help her and her family for one last time before you would walk away from all of this for good, just like the way she had been helping you through one of the toughest times of your life then.
And perhaps, in the process, you can help Namjoon too. For old time sake.
“Fine, I’ll stay for the charade. I’ll help you, as long as you promise to sign the divorce papers before I leave town,” you say this to Namjoon, keeping your eyes looking straight into his. “But I’ll only stay until after the family retreat, and not a day longer.”
The expression Namjoon is giving you is still unreadable, and you are starting to hate just how you are unable to read through him when you used to know him better than you knew yourself. But there is also something in his eyes that you manage to catch on to before it fades. A feeling of relief, as if you had just given him hope, no matter how small it is compared to what he truly needs. Though he is quick to mask it all away, hiding his emotions much better than you ever could have when he nods and answers you with,
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Coming home from meeting Namjoon has left you feeling more lost than resolved.
You had known that it wouldn’t be easy to get through to him and you had gone to see him without so much of a hope to return with the result that you had wanted on your first try. You had known all along that Namjoon may have something up his sleeve because you have been sending the divorce papers repeatedly for the past year only to have him sending them back to you.
You had drafted the divorce papers ever since the day you realised that there was no way you were going to get back together when neither of you even bothered to make any effort of communicating with each other during the time you were apart. Not the same way you and Namjoon did it when you had simply gone away to law school. And after what had happened three years ago, you had thought that everything had officially ended.
You had always wondered why Namjoon had been so adamant in keeping this marriage together when there had been nothing left to fight for. But seeing him today and listening to his side of the story had given you a new perspective on the matter.
Had Winny always been a part of it?
You have had a lot of theories on why Namjoon would deny you the divorce when he had made it seem like he wanted nothing to do with you, not after the big fight you had that had sent you packing up and leave. But it had never crossed your mind that perhaps he had simply done it to be able to claim the trust fund from Winny.
But would that have been the case at all?
And if it was, then why does it make you feel—disappointed to hear it, when you had never even considered about the possibilities that he may still have some hopes to turn things around. No, you are not going there, you shake your head and scold yourself for even letting your mind stray to a place that you had not let yourself venture into for a long time. A place in your mind that you had pushed so far back by living your life away from the memories—burying all thoughts of your past by working the long hours, taking in the big cases that had left you too exhausted to think at the end of the day to remember him at all, making new acquaintances that had no knowledge of your past back home.
Starting a new relationship.
You had never intended to seek a new chance in a relationship with another man, nor have you ever expected to have Matthew, the junior associate that had only joined the law firm last year to somehow show any interest in you as soon as you met him and to have him pursuit you so publicly until you finally agreed to start going out with him. You had thought it would only turn out to be a fling or that he would have given up on you as soon as he recognised the walls you had put around you to guard your heart. But he had always been so insistent, and never once had he wavered no matter how much you tried to push him away.
And you certainly had never expected that he would ask you to marry him this soon, or ever, before you had any chance to deal with your past.
The sounds of laughter filling the room completely snaps you out of it, taking you back to your family who has gathered in the dining room for what would be the second family dinner where everyone is present. And it is not even Christmas night yet.
Sitting at the end of the table is your Dad, who is telling jokes from his workplace with the help of his brother, your uncle who had taken the seat on the other end. Your mother sits right across from you, forcing your brother to sit separately from his wife as he takes the seat right next to your Mom while your sister in law chooses to sit by your side.
Looking at your family together, you feel warmth surging inside your chest. Your arrival at home had become some kind of a momentous affair and everyone, who had rarely come to join your parents for dinner, had agreed to come just to spend time with you while you are home. For the past few nights since your return, the house has already felt a bit more festive, and it already feels like Christmas even if you still have a few more days to go.
Being here with them and seeing them gathering like this makes you realise that your departure from the town may have caused more heartaches than you had thought. That you might have not only broken off your marriage with Namjoon when you left, but had somehow created a complete mess in the family dynamics when you broke their hearts by leaving them as well.
You try to join the conversation as much as you can to ease the guilt, but your mind keeps going back to the conversation that you had with Namjoon today, replaying every word in your head until you can almost hear his voice all over again.
“You’ve found someone.”
You recall how he had said those words, the odd look on his face and the low tone of voice that he had when he spoke. Had it been hurt that you saw in his eyes?
You had no idea whether or not to believe him when he said that he had never been with anyone else even after you had parted ways. It suddenly seemed unfair to think about it, though you don’t really have the interest to worry about him the way you used to. Not anymore.
You had spent too many years doing so in the past and look at where it got you. The small voice in your head is always there to remind you of the heartache that you had carried with you when you left town back then each time you begin to dwell too far into the past.
Focus on the future, you hear the same voice whispering to you once again, and your thumb easily slides to find the empty ring finger to brush against the indentation left by your engagement ring.
A regretful sigh escapes you when you think about the gorgeous diamond ring, of how you have kept it hidden in your purse still, never once putting it on ever since you had gotten here. You had been wearing it with pride since the day of the proposal, and yet, just thinking about the ring alone simply gives you a sense of shame as you sit there in the middle of your family with your secrets hidden too deep for them to see it.
You know that you would eventually have to reveal to your family and have them know that you had gotten engaged to someone else. You know that you cannot possibly hide it any longer, but there is no way your parents would take the news lightly, not while you are still legally married to Namjoon. Not until once the divorce is finalised and the ties between you and Namjoon would officially be severed through a simple exchange of signatures. Not while your parents are still following their old, conservative ways, and the news certainly would not make it easy to share with the kind of past that you have.
After all, it was only seven years ago when you came to your parents, straight out of high school, admitting to them that you had gotten pregnant because both you and Namjoon had been irresponsible and reckless about it. Not to mention the occasional events where you had gotten caught doing the naughties while you were both still dating each other all through high school to basically give your parents some clue of just how careless you had been then.
Thinking about it now, you suddenly cringe at the memory of your father coming home early from work to find you riding Namjoon’s lap on the wooden bench that he had built for your mother on the back porch.
It had happened during your senior year of high school, about a year after you began dating Namjoon and only weeks after losing your virginity to him. The night had ended with your father giving Namjoon ’the talk’ while keeping hold of him in the living room while your mother kept you in the dining room to have a long conversation about the birds and the bees. Not that it had done any good at the end.
Knowing what they had perceived you with your wanton ways as a teenage girl, there is no doubt where their mind would venture into had they known you have been having a relationship with another man. And they are not the only ones whose thoughts on it matter to you, you soon realise.
“I haven’t.”
You remember Namjoon admitting to you when you had thought that he might have been finding other women to spend his time with after you were gone. An admission that had made you feel relieved and yet guilty at the same time of what he might have been thinking when you implied to him about finding someone new. That he might imagine you sleeping with another man while you still hold the title of being his wife—even if they had only been nothing but in written papers.
There is no way for you to let him know the truth. That even when you let yourself open your heart to allow Matthew in, even if you had allowed yourself to feel love again, never once had you gone so far with Matthew to even sleep on the same bed with him, much less to make love to him. Not when the ties you still had with Namjoon had always held you back, stopping you from getting too far. Not when you would feel guilty and would think of yourself like a traitor to even receive something so simple like a kiss.
“I haven’t.”
His words continue to echo inside your head, while you silently admit the painful truth that you couldn’t give him then.
Neither have I.
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Three years ago…
You had once thought that you have had everything figured out. By the time you were in senior high school, you had everything planned out perfectly, all the possible ways that you could go through to achieve your goals written down from start to finish—starting from how you were going to leave town, then to study in a good university that could later bring you to places and lead you closer towards your dream. You had envisioned yourself to be someone who was more, someone who could go far and do bigger things in life, instead of being stuck in this small town for the rest of your life just like all the others.
Namjoon had always been in the picture since way before you had even started painting all these visions in your head.
When you were little, Namjoon had been the only one who was willing to listen to you rambling about your dreams, the only one who wouldn’t look at you funny over your obsession with your princess stories and on finding your own fairy tale ending. It had always been easy to share these things with Namjoon simply because he also had his own big dreams to share.
Just like you, Namjoon had always wanted to leave town, to venture out to new places, and he had found his own way to reach it as he joined the basketball team at school and had been playing while keeping his eyes on the sports scholarship as his ticket for his upcoming adventure. Together, you had written out all the details, planned out all the steps, and you had both been nothing but confident in achieving them as long as you had each other.
It took you rewriting your entire life story and the scenarios that you had envisioned since you were a young girl to finally understand that life could never be that simple.
No matter what your parents had called it, you would have never looked at it as a mistake. Having an unplanned pregnancy when you were still too young had been completely terrifying, a surprise that had come uninvited but had always been welcomed, and you still managed to adjust with all the changes, rewriting all the plans to fit the baby into your lives.
All of a sudden, you had no choice but to forget about all the universities you had been applying to and to set your mind in preparing for the baby, in learning and practising on how to become good parents, and building your small family with Namjoon. Your life suddenly expanded so rapidly that you had to shrink down your dreams. You had ended up having more reasons to stay in town, where you would have more people helping you, your families standing by your sides to guide you all the way through. The magical wedding you had envisioned many years ago became something more simple, more intimate, all to save up enough money to buy cribs, to afford to buy the small cabin near the lake where you could have your privacy and enough space for the nursery, and to save up enough funds for you to apply for the community college so you could still earn your degree.
Once again, you were all set up for another adventure, and Namjoon was always there with you to share the journey. It was the two of you against the world as you anticipated for your little one to come, until once again, fate played a twisted game by sending you to another turning point where you had to walk through a different course in life.
An entire ordeal sent your world tilting off its axis, sending you to a new, empty path where there was no more baby, no more chance of having the small beautiful family that you had envisioned, and the only thing that was left had been your dreams, coloured with the sorrow of your loss and the crumbling hope of ever getting a little break.
The loss and grief had been so great, but you used those emotions to continue on moving, ignoring the pity look everyone was giving you as you carried on with your classes and exams and pushed yourself until you could figure out how to be able to get out of the town that had become even more suffocating with the memory of what you had lost. Slowly, you began rewriting a new story of your own, using the last bit of hope you had left to find your new happy ending.
The only thing you had never expected was to find yourself going down this new path on your own, while Namjoon remained stuck in the moment of grief.
You had somehow managed to excel through community college and was heading out to law school when you made a deal with Namjoon that he would soon join you. He had let go of the scholarship that he had gotten through basketball when he had his mind set on staying behind to build a family with you before giving up on basketball and chasing his dream entirely. But you gave him all the time and space he needed, choosing to wait instead of pushing him to run. You had gone to the big city on your own to attend law school, feeling confident enough to survive the temporary long-distance relationship until he would be ready to join you. Even if you were the one who had to make the effort of keeping the relationship last—from being the one to come to visit the town and spend time with him to set everything up for your future together for the day he would be ready for it.
It wasn’t until during the final visit that you made right before you were graduating from law school when you realised that Namjoon had never made an effort to move on and had completely given up—on everything.
“Is it so wrong to want more?”
That was the question that you had asked him then, when he had fought against every effort that you had put through to be able to continue on living and to push him into getting back on his feet so he could give his own dreams another chance.
“Is it so wrong for me to continue on living? For me to want you to live instead of—” you were too emotional to even form any word and had been waving your arms around instead, pointing at the messy bedroom in the cabin where he had been holed up in while you were away. “This has been going on for too long, Joon. You can’t put your life on hold like this, not this long.”
You had hoped that you could get through him somehow, change his mindset so he could try again and do it together with you. But the more you spoke, it kept getting clearer that nothing you said could get through to him. You might as well had been talking to a brick wall with the way he kept being obstinate, too stubborn for his own good, and it was getting too tiring to even try. But you had to, if not for his sake, then for the sake of saving your marriage. Even if you could feel the last sliver of hope you had was slowly chipping away the more you spoke to him.
“What’s the point? I won’t get drafted anywhere by now. That chance has been lost for me.” His eyes were hard as he said this, and it was obvious that he had made his own mind about it. A flash of depletion came flashing out of his eyes when he finally returned your gaze after he kept avoiding your eyes the entire time, before the hardness returned and you saw nothing but lost hope. “Perhaps it’s just not meant to be,” he muttered, and it was both disheartening, enough to make you feel hurt inside, while at the same time it made your blood start boiling with your devastation.
“So what? You’re just going to hole up here for the rest of your life doing nothing?” you scoffed at him, finally snapping at him. “Haven’t you thought about how it could possibly be your second chance? That maybe it’s a sign for you to try again?”
When all he could give you was silence, the only thing you could do was shake your head, still refusing to accept this. “All I’m asking you is for you to try. With me. We can do this together.”
Namjoon clenched his jaw for a moment. “What if it’s not something that I want?” he said then. “I don’t have big dreams like you do.”
The painful pinch inside your chest almost made it impossible for you to speak. “You used to have dreams.”
He scoffed. “Yeah, but look at where it got me. Look at where it got us. You wouldn’t have gotten a miscarriage if it wasn’t for—” His voice was strangled with emotions that he simply stopped, the clench of his jaw tightened as he tried to hold back from saying anything more, from talking about him—the baby boy that had once hold your entire world while he was still living inside your womb.
For some reason, you had expected this. The loss had been too great for both of you and you were both had been too young to deal with the grief. It had taken a lot for you to finally be able to move on, to leave the town where you had buried your unborn child. You could see the grief in his eyes, appearing just as strongly as how you had felt it. You understood fully well the pain that he felt. Hell, you were the one who carried the child for almost nine months before he suddenly stopped moving inside your belly.
No more brain activity, they said, reassuring you that the exhaustion that you had from splitting your days between classes, working on your part-time job, and supporting Namjoon in his games had nothing to do with it. But it was harder to convince Namjoon about it when his guilt had been planted too deep in his mind, when he still blamed himself for letting you join him on his away game and getting you sick days before it happened.
“It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. It just happened!” you nearly screamed as you tried to make him see this, but then you took a deep breath and decided to try a different angle. “Look, I’ve gotten things figured out. I’m graduating in a few months and I’ve applied for a job at a law firm so that I can—”
“Good for you, then. I’ve always known that you would make it,” he cut you off before you could even begin to lay out your plans, everything that you had envisioned for when he would finally join you in the city. Namjoon had a smile on his face when he said this, and something in your head was telling you that nothing about it was right.
“I want you to be there with me. I’ve been waiting for the moment that you would finally come with me so we can make it together,” you said to him with a small voice while Namjoon only kept shaking his head.
“I can’t join you.”
You began moving your head from side to side. You hated the thought of giving him an ultimatum, but you knew that you could no longer put your life on hold for him. “I can’t wait for you until you change your mind on your own.”
The way Namjoon was looking at you made your heart stop, before you could feel a crack building when he said, “Then we’re at an impasse.”
“I suppose we are,” was the only thing you could say to him, though you could barely get the words out when your throat was caught, both with pain and anger. “I’ve spent days, weeks, worrying about you, planning and preparing for everything so you can join me—”
“Maybe you shouldn’t.”
Your heart was pounding so hard at this point that you could barely hear your own voice. “What do you mean?” you asked him, your voice almost strangled with the pain hurting you from within. You could almost hear it when your heart was starting to break apart, but you needed to be sure. “Are you saying—”
His eyes softened when he looked at you, even if you could see the hardness in them when he gave you a smile, giving you a false sense of sincerity when he said. “I’m saying that it’s not worth it. I’ll always love you, _____. But I don’t think this is going to work anymore. It’s obvious that we’re both walking in two different paths now. We’ll end up hurting each other if we continue doing this, you know that.”
You were too lost for words to speak, too broken to respond to him. Tears began to form in your eyes, but you refused to cry right in front of him. Breathing in deeply, you swallow all the pain down, letting your rage take its place.
“Fuck you, Namjoon. You’re right. It’s not worth it. I’m sorry I even wasted my time with you.”
That was the last thing you ever said to him before turning away, not giving him another glance when you walked away from him, leaving him and the town behind for good as you silently accepted the fact that you would never find your happy ending in this place. Not anymore.
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Present day…
[from Matthew] I’m sorry about what I said on the phone last night. I was feeling disappointed that I won’t get to see you this weekend and I unintentionally took it out on you. I hope you’re having a great time with your family. Please call me back.
You barely finish reading the whole text before shutting the app off and tossing the cellphone into your purse with a deep sigh. You turn away to look out the window, watching the trees and the hills passing by as Namjoon keeps on driving up the mountain roads, hoping that the silence and the sight of the scenery—even though you have them all covered under a blanket of snow—can calm you down before getting into the whole charade.
But nothing seems to go past Namjoon’s attention, when he only gives you a brief moment of silence before asking, “Is there something wrong?”
Pressing your lips together, you silently contemplate your answer. What are you supposed to tell him? That you had a fight last night through the phone call with your fiancé after letting him know that you will be staying a bit longer, that it is still unnerving to you just how mad your fiancé got after hearing that you are having an extended Christmas celebration with your family instead of coming home the next morning after Christmas dinner like you had promised him you would? Or should you tell him how upset your fiancé had been when you had accidentally sent him a photo of yourself at home while you weren’t wearing the engagement ring? That would surely start quite an interesting conversation with your husband—even if the title that he still carries would only last until the moment all of this charade is over.
“Nothing,” you finally answer him before turning to look at his face. Sometimes you still feel like you are dreaming when you see him driving this fancy four-wheel truck by himself. He used to hate driving through town, choosing to either ride with his friends or hitch a ride with your brother in his truck whenever he had to go to places that would have needed quite a drive from home. He seems to be a lot calmer and more collected now as he leads the truck up the tricky roads, knowing exactly where to go without so much of a fuss. Unlike back then when he had sat right by your side when you first learned how to drive.
“It’s just nerves,” you quickly add as soon as you notice that Namjoon is still expecting for you to explain. “I suppose it’s finally getting to me that we’re going to be holed up in one place, together with two families and a very attentive grandmother. And we’ll be coming in as an estranged married couple in the middle of it. Oh, let’s add the fact that I haven’t been in town for three years to know everything that’s been going on so I’m not completely sure just how we are supposed to pass Winny’s test with flying colours.”
Namjoon chuckles softly as he keeps his eyes on the road. “If you put it that way, I guess I’d be nervous about it too,” he says, suddenly reaching out to grab your hand and give it a little squeeze. “Don’t worry, we got this. We already had our stories lined up and I’m sure that she wouldn’t notice how detached you have been with the family and the whole town. She still thinks you’ve been away in school, after all.”
The touch that Namjoon gives you makes your chest stir a little. It has you growing rigid in your seat when your body seems to be reacting to him and yet you try your best to hide it. But the moment he pulls away, you immediately feel the loss. Your eyes follow his hand as he grips the steering wheel while you clench your hands on your lap, already missing his light touch and wishing to have his hand resting on yours again.
Grabbing your empty left hand with your right one, you clutch them together tightly to stop yourself from reaching out to him just as you respond to him, “That is true. But we need to make sure to remind my Mom not to talk about Missy’s pregnancy with her third child since it wouldn’t line up with the timeline.” You almost roll your eyes when you say this, since it is the only thing that your mother had been talking about during family dinners. Especially since your best friend had specifically asked your mother if she would be available to watch over the other two little ones when the time would come for the baby to arrive.
You almost grimace when you think about this. It’s not that you are not happy with Missy’s good news. But being near a pregnant woman had always made you feel uncomfortable, much less to hear it being talked about constantly. It doesn’t matter if she is your best friend and that she had been there during your own pregnancy and your loss, but being reminded of that phase in your life had been extremely hard for you to deal with.
“Dutifully noted,” Namjoon responds to you with a smile, unaware of where your mind had wandered off to. “How are your parents taking this, though? I know that this situation isn’t quite ideal and it doesn’t seem fair to get them all involved.”
You release a sigh. “It sure isn’t, but they try to understand. They both care about Winny, after all, so they didn’t question it too much. I think the prospect of getting to enjoy the holiday break outside of the house became their top priority to think about so they really don’t think much about everything else.”
Your parents had been surprised when you told them about your plans to join Namjoon and his family on their trip to the mountains. Whatever they had expected when you announced that you were going to see Namjoon and to have one of the most life-changing conversations of all, it was probably nowhere close to this, and neither of you could imagine it would end up this way. But then Namjoon extended his invitation to have your parents come along on the trip, and they simply stopped questioning it. Even if it has become pretty obvious that your father is still feeling a bit wary about the whole thing.
As the drive continues and the air grows denser, you are relieved that there is only the two of you in this ride, with your families traveling separately as they all left early at dawn to beat the bad weather. While Namjoon’s parents had gone to the mountain cottage first with Winny and his sister, you had convinced your parents and your dear uncle to join Bernie in his truck so that you can have some more time with Namjoon to plan things out properly. It had also been his idea to come together as a unit, showing a front that would please Winny by coming together in the same car as if you had been staying in the same old cabin that you had lived in with Namjoon since you came back.
“How do your parents feel about all of this?” you ask him in the middle of the conversation, just as you are reminded of his mother, who had treated you like a second daughter since you got married to Namjoon. You have grown so close to each other that she had even gone to the city with your parents to attend your graduation from law school three years ago.
“Just as I told you before, all we really want is for Winny to get better. No matter at what cost. They, uh—they know what we’re planning to do, but only to the point that we are going to be there together to indulge Winny. I can definitely say that the news had pretty much surprised my parents when I told them about you coming on this trip, but I think they’re just happy to know that you’re going to be there for her. That, and because we can finally have you joining our family this year.”
You nod your head, ignoring the feeling of longing blooming in your chest at the thought of meeting his family again. “How’s your Mom doing?”
Namjoon’s smile grows. “She’s doing great. She’s been busy with her shop downtown, but overall, I think she’s having the best time of her life with it,” he says, his eyes flickering between you and the road while his smile widens when he sees you smiling back.
“I’m glad to hear that. She had always wanted to do her own thing.”
“She’s also been helping me out at the bar. You know that she’s acting as the head manager, right? Practically Bernie’s boss and she gets to boss see around, even if I own the fucking place,” he says with a chuckle that rises up to a series of laughter after seeing your reaction to what he had just told you. “I’m serious! She was the first person to support me when I told everyone I was going to buy the property and rebuild the place. Then she got all excited when the place was coming together that she simply offered to get involved. She began by tending the bar with Bernie, making sure to help me run the whole thing once I officially had it open for business. She usually bartends during the day while serving lunch. You just happened to come during the days when she took a break and let Bernie work all day.”
Picturing yourself entering the bar with your mother-in-law standing behind the counter has you laughing amusedly. “I would have probably shocked her pants off if she had been there when I first came by.”
He gives you a small smile before he turns back to the road. “Especially with those papers in your hand,” you hear him muttering softly, though the rumbling sound of his truck drowns the words that you are not completely sure if you had heard him correctly. And he gives you no chance to question it when he makes a sudden turn, leaving the main road to drive through a long gravel-covered road until a fenced property comes to sight.
“We’re here,” he says as he drives through the wide opened front gate, slowing the truck down until a rather spacious plane of snow and a frozen pond appear, and the cottage—that does not fit its title at all—rises to view. The cottage, as Namjoon has called it, is a three-story mountain lodging with red brick walls, massive stone columns protruding on its sides. Large windows with rustic wood frames fill the sides of the lodge, overlooking the beautiful scenery of the snow covered mountains and trees, while the open balcony on the upper floor seems to be enough to fit the entire family to hang out on if anyone wants to stay out in the cold.
“This place looks amazing,” you find yourself muttering softly as you marvel at the beautiful sight of the building, while Namjoon remains silent as he drives his fancy truck to the side, finding the empty spot between Bernie’s fancy truck and your uncle’s older one that has already gotten covered with a thin veil of snow.
Namjoon sets the truck to a park before leaning back in his seat. Then he turns to you just as you look at him, a smile on his face when he says, “Thank you.”
It takes you a moment before you finally understand what he is trying to say.
“You built it,” you tell him rather than asking him for confirmation, and Namjoon gives you nothing but a smile to respond. “I thought you said your family is renting the place?”
Namjoon nods. “It belongs to the Mayor. But I was the one who helped build it, renovated it from the old hunting cabin that he inherited from his father to look the way it is now. All I did was added more floors and built bigger rooms inside to fit a whole family. It did make it easier for us to get a cheap price to stay here through Christmas because of that. The man is also an old friend of Winny’s from school, so I think that’s also the reason why he’s letting us use the place for as long as we want to.”
You open your mouth to make a comment, but find yourself unable to find the right words. You don’t even give the lodge another look, too amused at your husband. You have been hearing different things about him from the people around you—how much he has changed, how far he had turned his life around after you were gone, and you are beginning to see him in a different light.
In a way, it amuses you just how far he can go once he put his mind on it. On the other hand, it makes you feel—jealous, betrayed, dejected, because this is exactly what you had wanted from him years ago. This is the side of him that you had wanted to see, and all he did then was defy you, constantly refusing your help and support while not being able to see how much you wanted to help him become the person he is today. And it is somehow hurting you to find out that he had only chosen to start trying again once you were out of the picture, and only once you were no longer a part of his life.
Which only shows that he surely had not been doing all of this for you.
“Shall we come in? I have a feeling that everyone would have been waiting for us.” Namjoon glances towards the lodging before looking at you, keeping a smile on his face as he is still unaware of how you have your mind wandering off to the past or to even notice the hurt you are feeling in your chest.
Suddenly, not only does he appear to you like a new person, you only see him as a stranger. Perhaps he was right, after all, when he said that the two of you had been walking in different paths. That maybe it was not meant to be. That you had always meant to walk another path without him by your side. Somehow, keeping this thought only helps seal your mind into getting things done as soon as possible and return to the life waiting for you once this is all over.
“Alright, let’s get things rolling.”
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If you had been mesmerised by its outer skin, you find yourself getting more amused and astounded as Namjoon takes you inside the lodge.
His mother welcomes you at the front door with a big hug, lingering for a moment to squeeze you in her arms as if you are still the young girl she used to watch over when your parents were away. “It’s so good to see you again, ______,” she whispers to you, lowering her voice so that you would be the only one to hear her.
“I’m happy to see you again too,” you respond to her before you part ways, and you nearly tear up with emotions when you find her still smiling at you with her glossy eyes taking you in.
“Come say hi to everyone else.”
Letting Namjoon takes your hand in his, you walk hand-in-hand to enter the main living room where everyone is gathering, sitting and lounging on the loveseats with warm drinks and snacks that fill the air with their wonderful fragrance, no doubt Winny’s creation straight from her own kitchen. You linger briefly near the foyer to talk with your in-laws first, before greeting your parents who are joined by your uncle and Bernie near the fireplace. Right across the room, sitting close to the massive Christmas tree—one that appears to have been cut straight from the mountain forest before it was placed inside the room—together with Namjoon’s sister is Winny, who is looking straight at you with wide eyes and her smile hidden behind the cup she is holding up as she takes dainty sips of her drink.
Namjoon pulls you to his side as you walk away from your parents, brushing his lips across your temple as he whispers, “Don’t be nervous.”
“Got it,” you whisper back to him, giving him a smile as he pulls back. You let him guide you to grab a drink from the nearest table where the refreshments have been set up before walking over to greet Winny.
However, right before you can make it to the table and grab the hot chocolate drink that seems to be calling your name, Winny stops both you and Namjoon from moving across the room when she suddenly calls out,
“Stop. Hold it right there!”
Both you and Namjoon stop moving at the same time and your heartbeat begins to rise. You are practically clutching his hand tightly in yours and almost clinging onto his arm completely just to keep yourself from crumbling on the floor. Feeling completely scrutinised under Winny’s gaze, your nerves begin spiking up that you are too afraid to make a move. Just as you are beginning to feel the blood draining from your face, wondering if you had somehow shown a tell to blow this whole charade before it has any chance to start, a bright smile grows on Winny’s face, while her eyes are filled with mirth and joy and something else that you cannot truly decipher.
Suddenly, she raises a hand and points up, aiming right above your heads and says, “Look, you are standing right below a mistletoe. You know it’s a bad omen to step away from it without a kiss.”
Your heart drops, while Winny looks too adorably excited that you find no way to deny her. So you turn to your husband, meeting his wide eyes that are looking at you with pure confusion and doubt, before his gaze shows a silent understanding when he pulls you closer and wraps his arm around your waist. He gives you a small smile as his head dips, the mask that he has been wearing around you slipping from his face for the briefest moment before his lips are suddenly on yours, giving you a chaste kiss that feels too good and yet ends too soon. The kiss feels brief, and yet it is enough to set your whole body to come alive, to bring warmth rolling in waves from where he is kissing and touching you and all the way down to the tip of your toes.
And for some strange reason, you refuse to let this feeling fade away too soon. He tries to pull away once he ends the kiss, but you immediately wrap your arms around his neck to keep him close.
“Need to make it believable, remember?” you whisper against his lips, before pushing yourself up to your tiptoes so you can press your lips on his, starting with a chaste kiss that feels just as innocent as the one he gave you. Only that instead of pulling away, you press harder, moulding your lips with his to let it linger.
Namjoon grows stiff at first, before his hold on your body tightens, pulling you further into his chest as he begins to return the kiss with the same fervour, his tongue slipping out sneakily as he devours your lips to have a taste, and it has your body lighting up as if he had set up a flame somewhere deep within you.
A soft sigh escapes from your throat and it snaps you right out of it, clearing out your muddled brain to remind you of where you are. Ever so gently, you pull away, keeping your arms around him still when you open your eyes, finding him watching you with dilated eyes that are slowly filled with a hint of shock. Though you can easily see that there is also warmth in his gaze, a hint of longing that has your heart pinching tightly in your chest.
“Oh, that’s what I’ve been waiting to see, my favourite couple being full of love the way they always do,” Winny exclaims with a soft clap. Everyone in the room gives a burst of nervous laughter—except for Bernie who is standing in the corner with a knowing smile on his face and Namjoon’s mother who is watching you with a pair of glossy eyes that she quickly hides by turning to grab her glass from the table—but Winny doesn’t seem to notice this as she rises from her seat and makes her way towards the two of you.
“Look at you,” she says, taking your face in her palms just as Namjoon releases you from his hold. “You’ve become an elegant woman already. Oh, why did time have to move so fast? I used to be able to watch you grow and suddenly you are looking so mature it feels like time has completely slipped right out of me. ”
Guilt slowly seeps in, but you force a smile to your face when you answer her, “It’s good to see you again, Winny. I’m sorry I’ve been away.”
For a moment, the only thing that Winny does is to look at you, her gaze studying you closely with an intense look that you cannot possibly read even as you are looking at her closely. “I’ve missed you too, kiddo. But I’m glad to see you two back here together again,” she says, giving you an odd look on her face as she speaks, making you start questioning things silently and feeling your doubt brewing inside your head. Before you can think too much of it, Winny turns her gaze to Namjoon and smiles gently. “Joon must have felt relieved to see you back home.”
“Oh, I’m not so sure about that,” you try to lighten things up with a joke, though you still find it hard to hide the nervous chuckle bubbling from inside you. Noticing this, Namjoon wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you back to him, pressing you to his side.
“Don’t listen to her, Winny. Of course it makes me happy to have her home with me,” he says, once again planting a kiss on the top of your head.
Seeing this, Winny simply nods her head. “Well, I better let you kids go to your room and rest. I know it was a long drive. Go on, grab some hot chocolate and snacks or take your time to get settled in and come back down to have a drink with me once you’re ready.”
Once the short encounter is done, you part ways with Winny, giving her another hug before leaving the room. Namjoon takes you upstairs, leading you to the bedroom that you would be sharing with each other during your stay. He keeps holding your hand even when nobody is looking and he only lets you go once you are in the room.
“This is it. I hope it’s okay that we’re going to be holed up here for a while,” Namjoon smiles sheepishly while you turn your eyes away to find the king-sized bed in the middle of the room. All of a sudden, your body feels warm just thinking about sharing the room and perhaps split the bed with him. But then you hear Namjoon clearing his throat, possibly seeing the look on your face as discomfort and then points at the sofa bench placed in the corner of the room. “You can take the bed, and I can take the bench if that would make you feel more comfortable.”
You take a good look at the sofa that doesn’t exactly look comfortable to sleep on and simply cannot imagine him sleeping all night on that thing. But you say nothing about it. As if he takes your silence as a yes, Namjoon only smiles and nods at you. “Alright, I’ll leave you to change and unpack, maybe lie down for a moment. I know you might want to chill a little before going back out there. I’ll go down and grab the rest of our bags.”
He catches your gaze as you look up at him again, and his smile softens to whatever he sees in your eyes. “I won’t be long. I promise.”
Namjoon closes the door gently behind him as he leaves the room, while you take a seat on the edge of the bed just as your knees are beginning to feel weak. Only then do you finally realise that your legs have been trembling for a while now, and the only reason why you even managed to keep on standing was simply because you had been holding tightly onto Namjoon’s arms the whole time.
You release a deep sigh as you are trying to wrap your head around everything. You have to admit, that you have been feeling as if you are walking in the clouds and it has been this way ever since you walked past the front door. It is not so much because of the ruse that you are feeling this way, but for everything around it. And for the most part, it is all because of Namjoon.
You had known that you would need to play your part in this whole thing, and you have been preparing for it for the past few days before coming here. The only thing that you had not expected was to have your whole mind and body reacting this way over a simple kiss.
The kiss that you shared with Namjoon had only been a show, one that had been completely unplanned—when neither of you had expected that Winny would be asking for such request only moments after you arrived—but you cannot deny and say that your body is only reacting to it now as a part of your scheme and it is left you questioning things when you are supposed to keep a clear head while getting into this.
This wouldn’t be the first time that Namjoon has affected you when you are with him.
For the purpose of planning the ruse and getting used to being with him again without feeling all the awkwardness and to stop you from acting like strangers with one another, you had been seeing him constantly—from going out on lunch dates with him and coming to the bar to see him at night—and while all those meetings have been nothing but friendly encounters, you cannot deny the way he has been making you feel.
At first, it had taken you a while to stop feeling uneasy for being around him and appearing in town together with him, but then the need to get used to each other’s presence again had been stronger than your past resentment to one another that you slowly got used to it. Until you soon found yourself easing into things as if everything around you had gotten back to the way they were.
The comfortable silence that would fall between you had seemed like a warm blanket more than it gave you the awkwardness that you had feared to find when you had first thought about spending time with him. The light touches that he had given you—the ones that you let him do while telling yourself that it had to be done as practice—kept giving your body all the odd tingles that had been surprising but was never unwelcome.
Sitting here alone while thinking about all of this, you also notice how it suddenly feels like there is a void inside your chest that has been growing since the moment he walked out the door, as if you had grown so used to his presence that you had been clinging to it for comfort. The silence that accompanies you in his absence is not only making you feel the presence of the void even more, but it is giving you a chance to think, to look back into the past few days while wondering why the light tremors that his kiss had ignited in you have yet to fade.
A part of you seems to be telling you that perhaps being with him has awakened the feelings that you had felt for him but left buried for years. But you ignore the voices, denying that you may still have a lingering feeling for him left. Perhaps you still do care about him, perhaps you always have, but you are not quite sure if this feeling is anything close to the fierce, burning love that you used to have for him.
Perhaps what you have for him is nothing more but an infatuation, and it is building up inside you only because you are seeing him as a different person and not as the man that you had left behind.
Yes, that is simply what this is and nothing more, you keep convincing yourself even as you press your fingers on your lips, tracing the lingering sparks that have been left there from his kiss.
Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath to gather your resolve back, reminding yourself the reason why you had come here in the first place. Soon, everything will be over, and you will be free to move on, to leave all of this behind without any regret. Whatever Namjoon makes you feel would be temporary, and you have no doubt that it all stems from the memory that you had together in the past, the nostalgia that still remains in your head and not because you simply still love him or care about him the way you used to be in the past.
As you wait for Namjoon to return, you keep repeating this to yourself, refusing to give in to the illusions carried by your old, buried feelings, while convincing yourself to be stronger, hoping that your words alone would be enough to get you through this charade in one piece.
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The moment dinner time arrives in the evening, you only find that none of the things you kept telling yourself all day even mattered, or if any of them truly worked. Not when your mind keeps bringing you back to the kiss that you shared with Namjoon even as you are sitting among the others at the dinner table. And with Namjoon sitting right beside you, his presence serves as both the comfort that you need and, at the same time, the catalyst, when he ignites every spark, every reaction, and—every time you would look at him and your eyes would find his lips again—every flash of memory from the kiss.
No matter what you have done to try and get that moment out of your head, there is no stopping you from rewinding it again to yourself. There is no denying that—even if you keep telling yourself that it didn’t matter—the kiss still rattles you in a way that your body continues to react so easily to him. Your body shudders to each brush of his hand through dinner or whenever he leans closer to speak. Your skin would tingle when he is pressing to your side as he eats his meal. The fact that you are simply unable to avoid every gesture he is openly showing to the others at the table to play his part as the dotting husband only makes you feel more hyperaware of his presence. And it is certainly giving you quite a challenge, when you need to constantly hold back and hide all the shudders he brings forth within you, preventing it from showing out for everyone else who is present to see.
“You know how proud I am to hear about how well you’re doing in school, don’t you? I’ve told this to Joon time and time again since you started school again, but we all have hopes for you to make it big,” Winny says, turning to you after you saw her talking to your mother.
Feeling all the attention that seems to be drawn to you all so suddenly, you can only chuckle nervously while shifting in your seat, barely realising that you would lean a bit closer to Namjoon when this happens. “I don’t know about reaching anything big, but—” You turn to glance at Namjoon, gauging at his reaction and using his smile the encouragement that you need to keep on talking. “I do enjoy being in school, and I can’t wait to graduate soon and see where it leads me.”
The lie feels bitter on your tongue, but it is nothing compared to the guilt you feel in your chest for deceiving your grandmother-in-law.
Meanwhile, Winny simply nods, completely unaware of the turmoil that you are having.“Namjoon has also been making me proud. I think he wants to prove to himself and to the family that he can keep up with you. He’s shown me this bar he’s been working on and I think he’s doing quite a great job on it.”
The pride in her eyes is contagious, and you find yourself smiling proudly as you turn to Namjoon. “Well, he sure has been surprising me with a lot of what he’s been doing. I’ve been spending my time at the bar with him since I got back and I love seeing what he had done to the place.”
To your pleasure, Namjoon appears embarrassed to hear your compliment. A shy smile appears on his face and he dips his head to hide the blush forming on his skin. But then he reaches out to grab your hand gently in his and starts running his thumb absentmindedly on your knuckles when he speaks again, “I’m glad to hear that, coming from you. You have been my inspiration behind everything that I’ve been doing, after all.”
He looks straight into your eyes as he says those words, and a shiver instantly runs down your spine when you can clearly see the sincerity in the way he is looking at you. As if those words were real. Then you look away just as your face grows hot, finding Bernie sitting at the end of the table while giving you a knowing look. Everything that he said to you from the other day rings inside your head, and your heartbeat picks up.
“Joon here did all of this by himself—with a lot of our help, of course. Said he did it all for—”
There is no way, you tell yourself, refusing to let your mind go anywhere that you really have no right to venture into. But you keep these thoughts to yourself, forcing a smile to your face and holding it together as Namjoon brings your hand up and presses a kiss on the back of your hand. The gesture instantly sparks a reaction through your body, a delightful spark that you haven’t felt for a long time comes shooting through your skin, and you find yourself unable to look away, completely hypnotised by his warm gaze that keeps drawing you closer to him, and the touch that seems to bring back all the emotions that you had once thought had been lost.
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The rest of the dinner simply flew by like a fleeting dream. Though it didn’t stop you from slipping away from the others only an hour after dinner has been wrapped up to find a place to hide.
You had managed to hold yourself together through the rest of the dinner without so much of a blunder even with the continuous moments you find yourself getting too lost inside your head for all the feelings that Namjoon had brought up in you.
And he was not the only one who had made you feel these things.
Sitting outside the lodge, you can hear the voices coming from inside. You can tell that everyone is currently doing their own thing to enjoy the night. You can hear the sound of your parents laughing from the seating lounge as they are keeping Winny company near the fireplace while Namjoon’s parents are no doubt enjoying their drinking party with Bernie in the kitchen pantry. The last time you saw Namjoon was right before you stepped out onto the porch, catching the sight of him having an intense conversation with his sister in the living room and away from the others.
Being around everyone, having both families joined together and sharing this moment have been enjoyable, and it was surprising to see just how easy it has been for you to dive right back in despite how long you have been away from them. Watching everyone interact and enjoy their dinner left you swamped with emotions, just the way it did during your family dinner the other night when everyone was present, laughing and chatting as if the time when you were gone had been non-existent. You felt exactly the same way earlier, and it had made you somewhat uneasy, when it felt both like coming home while making you feel like a fraud at the same time.
As if you no longer deserved to be sitting here among them, indulging in the warmth of their companion and acting like a member of the family when you haven’t been one for a long time.
It had become too overwhelming when you still couldn’t shake the feeling off even after dinner had ended that you simply had to get away, and that was the reason why you have found yourself here, sitting on the long wooden bench—one that looks a bit too similar to the old wooden bench you have back at home—to find solace and perhaps have your peace with the silence as your companion. You were also hoping that being out here would give you a chance to clear your head before heading up to your room to end the night, but your mind keeps wandering all over the place, taking you back to the events happening throughout the day and sometimes way back to the past where everything had seemed to be perfectly in control, before it had gone into a complete mess.
“A penny for your thoughts?”
You nearly jump at Namjoon’s deep voice as he appears at the door, smiling amusedly at you. “God, you scared me,” you mutter softly while pressing a hand over your heart, hoping that it would calm back down.
“Sorry,” he chuckles at you as he leans against the wooden doorframe. “What are you doing out here in the cold?”
You press your lips together, wondering just what to say to him, though you immediately realise what a mistake it would be to hide these things from him. Not when he is the only one currently on your side.
“I just need to do some thinking on my own,” you finally tell him with a shrug, and his gaze softens. “Where’s everyone?” you ask him when you realise that the voices coming from inside have gone down.
Namjoon glances over his shoulders and takes a look inside through the open door briefly before turning back to you. “Most of them have gone up to their rooms, including Winny. Our Dads are planning to go to the shop early in the morning for the barbecue lunch tomorrow so they’re settling down early. The only ones left are Bernie and your uncle who are trying to work on finishing that bottle of whiskey I brought them earlier,” he says, chuckling softly before his warm gaze returns. “And then there’s us.”
“And then there’s us,” you mutter softly, mirroring his words with a small voice.
You bite your lips, hating how powerless you are against the flutters forming inside you and how surprisingly good it feels. The warmth in your belly feels comforting, but it makes you grow wary to let it linger for far too long. You should be standing up and start to make your leave, and then hide in the bedroom instead of sitting here under his gaze and enjoying the way he is making you feel. Suddenly, you feel like a teenager again, the same way you felt when you hid away with him during one of the parties that your school friends were holding at the time and he had ended up giving you your first kiss.
“Mind if I join you?” he asks you gently while his eyes never once stray away from you, and you find yourself unable to refuse.
You should say no to him and walk away, the small voice inside your head whispers to you, telling you to retreat for the night and walk away from him. It would be much safer, the voice speaks, and you can swear that you can hear it trembling, filled with the fear of having the wounds that you had once carried inside you returning. But the pounding in your heart becomes stronger, drowning the voices that keep sending you all the warning signs, and the words simply slip out before you can stop them,
“No, go ahead.”
A smile of relief comes to his face and he walks over to take the empty seat next to you while you slide away to give him space. You still haven’t gotten used to the new muscular built he is now sporting that you almost forget that he wouldn’t fit easily to your side so you cannot escape it when he brushes against you. The bench groans a little as he drops himself right next to you while he instantly engulfs you with his warmth. Goosebumps begin to form on your skin even without him touching you directly that you just lean back, trying your best not to make it obvious by rubbing your hands on your arms to hide it.
“It’s quite a lot to take in, isn’t it?” he suddenly asks you, keeping his voice low enough that you almost miss it. You turn to him to find him smiling at you while you have no idea how to respond. “I’m sorry for putting you through this.”
Swallowing hard, you can only nod your head slowly. “I wouldn’t say you are solely responsible in all of this. We wouldn’t have been in this spot if I hadn’t come to rush you into—”
Signing the divorce papers.
Shoot. For a while there you had almost forgotten the real reason why you are here in the first place and why you had agreed to become a part of this whole ruse. There is an icy prick poking in your chest when you are reminded that this whole thing has a time limit, and it surprises you to feel this way. There is no way you would want this whole thing to carry on, not when you have another life waiting for you. Another story for you to live through.
Another man who is waiting for you to return.
You shake your head, still cannot believe how easily you find yourself straying away from what you are meant to do. You should have expected this, when you knew what you were getting into by joining this trip. But it had somehow slipped your mind completely to prepare yourself against this, to remember that Namjoon would not be the only one that would be able to draw out all the memories and to stir your heart. Regardless of all the lies, the secrets that you are still keeping from everyone, and the horrible charade you are playing, you cannot deny how it makes you feel like you are finally home.
For years, you had thought that being here would only bring back all the hurt, that you would be constantly reminded of your painful past when all of the elements are present together. But it had turned out that the only things that have been brought back up while you are with everyone who are dear to your heart are the memory of the love that you had shared with them, the good times, and the comfort of coming home.
And for some reason, there is a part of you that doesn’t mind being here, to forget the world outside of this bubble and the life where this warm feeling doesn’t exist. Letting this thought linger inside your head, you find yourself admitting it loudly to Namjoon about it before you can stop it.
“I have to admit that I’ve missed all of this. To be around the family, to hear Bernie’s dirty jokes. And most importantly, being around Winny,” you mutter softly, turning to him with a smile just as you stop yourself from admitting how much you have missed the part of your life which you had once shared with him, only because you would have to admit that you have been missing him too. “I was nervous about meeting them all at once, but everyone was enjoying themselves that I just got into the festive mood pretty easily.”
“I think we both did pretty well for the first round,” Namjoon says, nodding his head.
“I’ll say,” you chuckle softly at him. “Though, I do admit—being around Winny for too long makes me nervous. Sometimes I’ll find myself talking to her and then the moment she brings up something from three years ago as if they had just happened, I’ll feel so guilty that I just want to admit everything.” You look back with a sigh. “Especially when she brought up the candy apple. I probably would’ve bawled my eyes out and told her that the last fair we went to together happened 4 years ago and not last year if you hadn’t come to change the topic.”
Namjoon laughs softly as he recalls that moment, when he came to the rescue at the perfect time while you were stuttering in front of Winny while she was reminiscing about the old town’s fair that you had gone to together. “All I did was look at your eyes and I knew you were panicking. I did what I had to do.”
“My saviour,” you whisper to him with a teasing tone in your voice, making him smile.
“That’s what teammates do, be there for each other,” he says, speaking in a low voice that warms your skin. He falls silent for a moment when your gazes meet each other, and the playfulness in his eyes fades. “We used to make a great team, you and I.”
We certainly did, the small voice in your head responds to him, just as a painful twist appears in your chest. The betrayal that you had felt before when you thought about his changes comes stabbing deeper into your chest, and it grows even deeper when you remind yourself that you are no longer a part of his life, just as much as he is no longer a part of yours.
“Don’t do that,” you say to him as you look away, avoiding his gaze that suddenly feels so intense that it nearly burns you just by looking back at him. “Let’s not go there, Namjoon.”
The way he is looking at you makes you feel exposed, that no matter what you do to shield yourself and hide from him, he can still make you feel as if you are holding out your heart, that you are baring your soul for him to see. So you keep your eyes looking away, focusing on the trees around the lodge instead of letting him see through your facade.
“Why not?” he whispers, and you realise that in your effort of trying to avoid him and to push him away, Namjoon has shifted closer. You can feel his arm resting on the backrest behind you while his warmth comes pressing to your side. “Can’t I talk about the good old past? We were sharing all the great memories from when we were kids and we even acted like how we used to be in the past. Is it not okay to just talk about it, for old time sake?”
“That—that’s different and you know it,” you respond to him with a voice barely a whisper. And you hate the way your body is truly reacting to him, as your skin grows hot when you feel his warm breath falls against you, brushing softly right where the top of your sweater falls over from your shoulders. A faint scent of whisky wafts between you and you lift your eyes to him. “Are you drunk? Is that why you’re not making sense right now? Or did you hit your head on your way out here?”
Namjoon laughs and shakes his head. “You know I barely had any alcohol through dinner. Neither of us did since we promised to stay sober while we’re around Winny, remember?” he says with a chuckle, and you begin to regret turning to look at him. You have failed to realise how much closer he is to you now, that he is basically leaning over you and keeping you trapped against the bench with nowhere to escape. His eyes are dark, and there is something in his gaze that you have not seen for a long time as he keeps looking at you. His presence feels intimidating, intense, leaving you completely entranced that you can barely hold back from leaning closer and letting yourself be drawn to him.
“I only took a shot of whiskey from Bernie and your uncle before I walked out here to find you, but my head is still as clear as day. I’m only curious, are you saying that you didn’t feel a thing when we kissed? Do I not make your heart race anymore?”
Your mouth falls open, both in shock and for finding yourself almost giving him the answer that he seems to be searching for.
Because the answer is yes.
Yes, you did feel something—a lot of things—when you kissed him under the mistletoe and right in front of your families who knew nothing about the deal you have made with each other.
Yes, he makes your heart race, just the way he is doing it now, simply by being so close, for having his face leaning close to yours that you clench your hands tightly to stop yourself from reaching out and pulling his head so you can devour his lips again.
And yes, your heart is still racing, not only because of his presence, but also because of the way he is looking at you as if you are a mystery for him to unfold. The curiosity, the astonishment, the wonder—you can see it all, all the emotions dancing in his eyes, and you wonder if you are showing him all the same thing when you return his gaze while your face is burning under his gaze.
But you take a deep breath, willing your body to stop reacting to him and swallow hard. “Everything is in the past, Joon. Right where we left it. And we’ve moved on from it.”
Namjoon clenches his jaw, though there is a glint of his amusement in his eyes when he says, “We did leave all of that behind, didn’t we?” His voice comes out so soft that it almost seems like he is questioning himself rather than expecting an answer from you. Then his sly grin returns when he lifts his hand, brushing against your forearm that shows under the sleeves of your sweater, his fingers tracing gently on your skin before he begins trailing them upwards ever so slowly, all the way to your shoulder.
“Do you really not feel anything anymore? Not even when I touch you like this?” Then he stops, only for a brief moment, before you feel his fingers moving to brush your hair away, exposing the nape of your neck, where he then runs a featherlight touch with his long fingers until he draws a shudder through your body. ”Not even when I do this?” he whispers, keeping his eyes on you the entire time to watch your reaction, no doubt catching the way your eyes are dilating to his touch or the way your breath hitches right when the tip of his fingers brush against the sensitive spot beneath your ear.
“No,” you answer him, but even you know that your answer holds no truth when you are trembling against him, and your voice has come out breathless, almost to a sigh, when the shudders running through your body is still existent and you can no longer fight against it.
Namjoon must have caught on to how your body is truly reacting to him no matter how much you try to hide it, because he only seems to keep leaning closer, his head dipping lower, coming so close that you are suddenly feeling his lips ghosting over yours, just a hairbreadth away from yours when he finally stops himself.
“And you won’t feel a thing if I kiss you right now? A real kiss, not a part of a show where we have audiences watching and expecting us to perform for them?” he whispers against your lips. “There is only you and me out here, Baby Doll. Nobody else but us.”
He looks down at you for a long, silent moment before he dips his head, placing a chaste kiss on your lips. He pulls away right after, just far enough to what you imagine as a way for him to gauge your reaction. He looks at you for another beat of a moment before he does the same thing. He dips his head, giving you a brief, closed-mouthed kiss, lingering for a moment longer this time, before he slowly pulls away again.
This time, you are the one searching for his eyes. Deep down, you both know just how wrong this is. How this cannot happen. And most importantly, why this should never happen. But right now, it doesn’t seem to matter. The pull between the two of you which you had once thought had somehow vanished right before you left is still there and you cannot seem to shake it off. Not when he is this close, with his warmth rolling between you and the shadow of his touches still ripples on your skin.
Maybe it is due to the fact that you are stuck in this place together. Maybe the entire night of reminiscing the past and having his grandmother doting you as if you had never left makes you feel like you are right where you belong. Maybe it is the melancholy, knowing that this would be the last time, that you would have to let him go for good once everything is over, no matter what history you have had together and what you still feel for each other. But there is a strong feeling of need inside you that makes you want him more now in a way that you haven’t felt before. And it is taking over you to the point that you can no longer hold back.
When he dips his head toward you again, only after noticing how you no longer have your guards up against him, you slide your hands up his chest, grabbing onto his shirt and pulling him into you. You part your lips, almost begging him to deepen the kiss, and he happily obliges, sliding his tongue against yours before he trails it over your bottom lip.
You can taste the bite of alcohol on his tongue and you pull him even closer. The move seems to snap him out of his final restraint, and he is suddenly reaching out for you, no longer holding back. His hand slides up your back, fisting into your hair as he moves the other to start fumbling with your knitted sweater. He somehow manages to slide his hand inside, then wraps the same hand around your waist to pull you even closer, almost lifting you onto his lap.
You gasp softly against his lips as his hand reaches behind you, finding the zipper of the dress you have been wearing underneath the sweater and starts sliding it down. You must have been so distracted by his kiss that you fail to realise how your cardigan had slipped right off your shoulders, giving him more leeway in doing the same with the strap of your dress, and he pulls back just as the front of your dress falls over, exposing your covered breasts to his eyes.
A soft groan slips out of Namjoon’s lips when his gaze falls on your heaving chest, while pure hunger appears in his eyes, dark and intense, making you grow hot just by having him rake his gaze all over you. He wastes no more time as his hand finds your breast, touching you gently while he uses his other hand to slip behind you, unfastening your bra so easily as if he has done this to you many times before. You think nothing of it when you simply lean forward, pressing your lips on the nape of his neck while he makes a quick work on your clothes—unhooking your bra with what seems to be a flick of his wrist before sliding his hand underneath, trailing his fingers across your skin all the way from your back and then coming around to find your breast. He slides the straps of your bra off your shoulders, his fingers finding the sensitive skin around your nipple, making its tip harden before he finally rubs a thumb across the nub.
His lips suddenly find yours again just as the touch draws a gasp right out of you, though he doesn’t stop you from moaning into his mouth as he begins to devour your lips with more heat and hunger while he keeps touching you, sending surges of pleasure all through your body with the light traces of his long fingers. You hear a soft grunt coming out of his throat, but you continue kissing him, refusing to let him stop or to let any drop of doubt fall between you. While his touches remain on your skin, you reach out to him and begin to fumble with the buttons of his shirt, suddenly having the urge to feel his skin, to bask in his warmth, and to feel him shudder under your touch the same way he is doing it to you.
Just as you tug on his shirt, a deep groan rumbles from his chest again and his grip on your waist tightens just as he pulls you up to his lap. The move happens so suddenly that you can barely stop yourself from falling against his chest with a soft gasp. Then his lips are quick to return to yours, capturing the rest of the sounds you are making both in your shock and as you are drowning in the heat of the moment as he devours your mouth, pouring his desire more freely now that you are reacting and reciprocating his actions.
Your hands are trembling as you blindly release the buttons of his shirt, taking them off one and a time with your eyes closed and his kisses distracting you just as his hands are pressing on your curves, touching you wherever he can reach. You can only faintly hear the sound of him clearing his throat through your muddled senses, and yet he makes no move to pull away and you continue on pressing your lips on his, arching your chest to him, letting your body melt against his as your hips begin to sway, rolling over his lap as you press down against his groin.
The sound that you heard comes back, growing louder, and it takes you a while before you realise that the sound is coming from somewhere else and it wasn’t Namjoon who has been clearing his throat in the middle of kissing you. Both of you instantly pull away from each other as you realise this and Namjoon finally notices the sound. The soft cough returns again and you turn to look at the door just as Namjoon instantly pulls you to his chest to hide your exposed chest for your intruder to see, and your heart plunges in your chest when you see Bernie standing there, looking overly intoxicated after his drinking game with your uncle with a sick grin showing up on his face.
“Ah, sorry to interrupt. Didn’t see you two out here. Was checking to see if the door’s locked and there you are,” he says, slurring a little as he points between the door and the outer side of the porch. Meanwhile, you can feel your face burning hot with shame, though you are glad that Namjoon managed to snap right out of it a bit faster to cover your body from Bernie’s eyes, though you aren’t even quite sure if he can see either of you that well through the dark while he is being so heavily drunk.
As if he notices the way Namjoon is hiding you from him—and most probably only realising now that both you and Namjoon are looking like little deers caught in headlights—Bernie raises his hands in surrender and says, “Don’t worry, I didn’t see anything. Scout’s honour.”
While you are still left speechless in your shock, Namjoon chuckles softly. “You go on up and head to bed, Bernie. We’ll make sure to lock the doors up before we come up.”
“Sure thing, Joonie,” Bernie says, nodding like a child before he clumsily turns around and makes his way back through the door. His large frame keeps brushing harshly against the doorframe before he manages to slip right in. You are just beginning to breathe a sigh of relief and are telling yourself that perhaps he really did see nothing, when Bernie suddenly looks over his shoulder and asks, “Don’t you kids think it would be better to do it in your room? It’s freezing out here.”
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“So—how are we going to do this?”
Namjoon lifts his brows at your question and you can see the humour painting his gaze. “Simple. We sleep. I’ll take the sofa and you can keep the whole bed.”
You hold back the urge to roll your eyes at him and sigh, keeping your eyes on him as he stands right beside the bed while you stand on the other side. The heated moment that you shared with him at the porch had been instantly ruined when Bernie caught you both and things had only grown awkward and tense between you since. You could barely look at him when you were both fixing up your clothes and took your time to cool down. Then, once he had made sure that the coast was clear, Namjoon pulled you inside, locking the doors behind you before taking you all the way to the bedroom. Only to once again find yourselves surrounded with an air filled with tension once you were both secured in the confinement of your bedroom.
Your face still feels warm after what had happened downstairs—including the part where you had gotten caught right in the midst of it. As your mind flies back to that moment, your skin tingles right where he was touching you. Your breasts instantly grow hot and tight at the memory of his hands and fingers touching and brushing across your nipples that are now beginning to grow hard beneath your nightshirt. Afraid that he can see it through the thin fabric of your shirt, you cross your arms around your chest, pressing all the delicate tingles down while hiding the way your body is still reacting to him. Though it doesn’t stop you from running your gaze on him, noticing how the material of his shirt seems to cling onto his broad chest and wide shoulders so perfectly well that it barely serves its purpose in covering his body.
At least he is wearing something, you inwardly sigh.
After getting into the bedroom earlier, you had practically run and gone to hide in the bathroom to avoid him. After taking your sweet time washing up and getting yourself ready to bed, you had then returned to the bedroom to find him standing there only in his boxers. The way you had completely forgotten that Namjoon had always slept in the nude when you were still together almost had you screaming. Telling him to put a shirt on and making him promise to at least keep his boxers on had been the first few things that you said to him, much to his amusement. At least it had been entertaining enough for him to do exactly what you asked him to.
You look away before he would notice you staring at his chest. When your eyes fall on the sofa bench which Namjoon keeps insisting to sleep on, you simply grimace, unable to imagine him fitting his hard body on top of the small-sized furniture the way he keeps claiming he would. “No, that won’t do,” you find yourself muttering as you wonder about this. Hearing this, Namjoon tilts his head.
“What do you mean?”
“I’m talking about you, sleeping there,” you point out between him and the sofa before shaking your head. “When there is a perfectly good sized bed right here.”
Namjoon raises his brows and barely holds back his amused smile when he teases you, “Are you trying to seduce me into joining you in bed, Baby Doll?”
“You know what I mean,” you say to him, narrowing your eyes. “I’m only saying that instead of letting me have this whole bed while you torture yourself into that tiny thing, why don’t we just—use the bed?” You stop for a brief moment, trying to ignore the way your cheeks are heating up before adding with a small voice, “Together.”
Namjoon’s eyes are glowing with glee when he questions you about it. “So you have nothing untoward planned for me? We’re just going to—sleep?”
“Funny. That would be the last thing I’d ever do. And we’re not just going to split the space by pointing between us to decide which of us gets which side,” you continue by pointing at his side to your side. “You can take that side and I’ll take this side. And then—” Giving him a sweet smile, you pull a thick pillow from the pile of them resting against the bed’s headboard, fluffing it in your hands a few times before placing it in the middle and add, “These pillows, the ones that we won’t be using to sleep, will be here in the middle.”
Namjoon’s eyes fall onto the pillow and his smile falls as you continue to add more pillows right in the middle of the bed and make it look like a fort. “You’re making a barrier?”
“You’re creating a line with pillows.”
“Exactly. And it’s a fort, actually.”
Namjoon looks up and raises his eyebrows at you. “Let me guess, we’re not allowed to trespass each other’s territory?”
Clapping your hands, you make a sound like he had just the grand prize in a big quiz. “That’s right. No crossing over to this area if you don’t want to get your balls kicked.”
He looks at you, looking genuinely surprised, before he starts laughing. “Alright, Baby Doll. Whatever you say.”
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Warmth comes trickling as the morning slowly sneaks in, brushing against your skin like delicate fingers teasing you to wake up, coaxing you to embrace the morning for a fresh start. As you slowly come awake, you breathe in deeply, inhaling the familiar musky scent that feels like home, wrapping you alongside the two gentle arms that are keeping you comfortable and safe in a loving embrace. And then the sound of a steady heartbeat begins to pick up, slowly rising, sounding clearer and clearer, inviting, mesmerising, and you snuggle against it, embracing the warmth that comes with it, only to notice that you are no longer snuggling against the soft pillows that you had been resting on all night.
It takes you another moment before you are finally pulled out of your slumber completely, before finding yourself resting on something solid, that there is a warm surface present under your palm. The smooth texture of Namjoon’s shirt appears to your bleary eyes when you slowly open them, letting you know that you have somehow gone over the pillow fort, and had landed on top of his hard chest instead. With your head right on top of his beating heart, your palm resting over his abdomen, and your legs entwined together, it simply appears as if you had locked onto one another in your sleep.
Namjoon’s breathing is still steady, even if he has one of his arms resting around your waist. Trying to relax as not to startle him awake, you begin to rake your brain to find a way to slip right out of his clutch without waking him up. The first thing you do is to slip your legs out of his, before gently peeling yourself from him, only to have his arm tightening around you to stop you from moving away.
“Where are you going?” His voice sounds deep and hoarse with sleep, but it stirs something deep inside you like a flame licking from within. It has you clenching your thighs together, your body going stiff against him before giving in to his embrace and simply remain to lie motionless on top of his chest.
“I—I’m sorry, I have no idea how—”
Namjoon’s chest rumbles as he chuckles softly. “Did I say I mind it?” he asks you, keeping his eyes closed while he is moving his fingers absentmindedly up and down your upper arm, while the palm that is pressing on your waist is still ever-present, holding you against him while he is caressing you gently. You look up just as he slowly opens his eyes, looking down on your face with something intense in his gaze, making you want to melt against him instead of pushing yourself off of him.
“This shouldn’t have happened,” you whisper softly, only realising now just how close your face is to his.
Namjoon’s lips twitch, forming a small grin. “I’m not the one who went over the fort that you built,” he says to you teasingly. You should be angry at his words, at whatever it is he seems to be accusing you of, but it is hard to think clearly when you have his lips brushing against your temple and when your heartbeat begins to race with the rising heat burning inside your belly.
“It’s still wrong,” you whisper with a sigh, closing your eyes when Namjoon tugs you up against his chest and continues to run his gentle kisses on your face.
“I’m not the one making the rules.”
You slowly push yourself up and he plants a kiss right at the tip of your nose, drawing a gasp out of you. “I should get up and—”
“And?” he asks, though he doesn’t make any move to let you go. He simply lies there beneath you, keeping his eyes on your face to gauge at your reaction, waiting, with his lips hovering so close that all you have to do is push yourself upward so your lips can touch.
But you do nothing as such, letting him hold you to his chest, unable to look away. You feel like you are getting drawn further into him, the pull that has been present now making itself known. One moment, you are simply there, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat that nearly matches yours. You have no idea who makes the first move, but his lips are suddenly on yours, brushing gently just as you lightly press your lips against him in return. A soft sound slips out of you when he gently takes your bottom lip and gives a light suck, and that is when the remaining restraint you have between you simply snaps.
With a light pull, he tugs you until you are on top of him, your legs resting on either side of him while you straddle his hips, pressing your pulsing center right on top of his covered hard-on. Your hands are clutching tightly on his shirt while you mould your lips together. He slides his tongue right at the seam of your lips, making his way in to deepen the kiss. Everything becomes a blur of heated desire with your tongues clashing against one another, his hands running up and down your curves while you slip your fingers through the hem of his shirt, slipping beneath the fabric, desperate to feel his skin.
While your fingers begin tracing blindly on the hard ridges of his abs, your hips begin to move, swivelling and rolling against him to rub your pulsing core against his covered cock, feeling him hardening and growing stiff under the heat of your desire. A deep groan comes rumbling from his chest before he gives one tight grip on your waist, holding you right in place as he moves his hips, reciprocating every motion you make while his other hand slides under your nightshirt, finding it easy to slide right in when its hem has hiked up to your hips as you continue riding on his groin. It doesn’t take much for him to find your breasts, continuing where he left off last night without any bra present as a barrier this time as you had opted to sleep without it. His palm feels warm against your mound, and he waits no longer before he begins fondling on your soft flesh, kneading and tugging while his fingers find your hardened nipple and gives you a light pinch.
You release a cry into his mouth, letting his kiss drown your voice. Your body trembles at the way he is playing with your body, the way he seems to find the right rhythm to draw out the delightful sparks of pleasure rising from deep within your core. With your nails buried on his chest, you keep on grinding against his covered cock and pressing hard right where it makes you feel good. You continue to ride the waves, letting them build up and continue to rise until you can feel yourself reaching to the edge, getting closer and closer, already losing balance as your legs are trembling around him.
Feeling how close you are to climax, Namjoon slides his other hand down your shirt, cupping your other breast with his palm and begins to do the same as he did the other. As you press down harder against him, he sucks on your lips harder, giving your nipples a rough pinch to draw your cries, and you can start feeling yourself plunging, flowing over the edge and—
The sound of someone banging on the door makes you both jump. For a moment, everything is spinning and you nearly come tumbling down from on top of him. But Namjoon is quick to catch you. His hands are still hidden beneath your shirt, but he is now holding you by the waist, keeping you still while you are both breathless. You are still feeling terribly flushed and your heartbeat seems to take forever to settle down, even if you can still clearly see the burning need in his eyes when you look at him. His own skin still looks flushed and his lips are swollen after all the biting and sucking you did while devouring them in the heated moment.
Neither of you says a thing to each other, or to even try and respond to whoever is on the other side of the door, until the banging sound returns.
“Joonie, you’re up?” Your father-in-law calls for him from outside, and Namjoon releases a groan. Closing his eyes, he lets his head fall back to the pillows.
“I’m up!”
“Good, I’m driving down to the nearest store to buy some supplies for the grill. You coming? Your dad-in-law is driving.”
Namjoon lets out another groan and pulls you down. He buries one hand in your hair as he holds you to him, pressing his lips on yours for a brief kiss before he whispers, “I have to go. He won’t shut up if I’m not up to help him.”
You open your mouth, but your head is still muddled and everything seems so fuzzy for you to even say much. “Okay,” you simply whisper, nodding your head before letting him help you lie back down on the bed.
“Get some more rest,” he says, brushing his lips against yours as he hovers on top of you. “We’ll continue this once I’m back.”
With those words, Namjoon presses a gentle kiss on your lips, before pushing himself up and leaves the bed. He quickly grabs his pants, getting ready to go just as his Dad comes banging on the door once more. “I’m coming,” he shouts back, though he makes another stop to kiss the top of your head before he makes his way out, keeping the door from opening too wide to hide your flustered state from his father when he slides out the door.
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The moment Namjoon is gone, the entire warmth that you have felt since the moment you woke up just seems to have been sucked dry along with his departure. The silence that falls after also feels too deafening and you find it hard to process everything and understand what had just happened. It feels like you have been dreaming, that nothing is real, and it gets even harder to think clearly and to snap right out of the remaining fog of your desire when you can still breathe in his scent which has been plastered all around you—the pillows, the sheets, even on your hair and skin.
Deciding that it would only get you nowhere if you simply remain there and wallow in your loneliness, you run to the bathroom, hoping that a long hot shower might help clear your head a little before going through with the day. You stay under the shower for a bit longer than you probably should, relishing the running water that does its best to wash away the grime, the remnants of his scent that you still carry with you, and the shadow of his touches on your skin. You feel it slowly washing away the fog that is still muddling your head and the rush of pleasure that seems to linger inside you. Only when your skin begins to wrinkle and the hot water slowly turns cold when you finally step out of the shower, wrapping the fuzzy towel that you find on the sink counter before walking out of the bathroom just in time for your phone to start blaring loudly.
You reach for it and pull it out of your purse, and your heart instantly falls.
Your hand is shaking as you bring the phone up to your ear, knowing that you cannot possibly ignore his calls. Not if you want to have a whole day safe from any interruption. Because you know that he would only continue calling again, and again, until he can get through you. That is just how relentless you know Matthew is as a man and a lover.
You take a deep breath and slowly lowers yourself to sit on the edge of the bed, afraid that you might fall if you don’t. “Hello—?” you can barely get your voice out as you answer the call, but you manage to anyway. A shuffling sound is heard from the other end before you hear him speak.
“Good morning, babe. How was your sleep?”
Matthew’s voice rumbles deep from the phone and your chest twists with guilt. “Morning. It was okay. Really good, actually,” you answer him, before a rush of heat flows to your face at the memory of your sleep—or, better yet, the memory of how you had woken up this morning. The surge of pleasure that you had just washed off suddenly runs through you when you remember how you were riding your husband’s lap, the heat in your body returning full force with need, and you try to shake it off as you focus on your fiancé’s voice.
“That’s good to hear,” he says, sighing. “You know I’m glad to see you taking a long break after the past busy month. You’ve worked so hard lately so you needed this break. It must be the fresh air, isn’t it? You’ve always had trouble sleeping for as long as I can remember.”
Letting out a bitter chuckle, your voice grows small when you answer him, “Yes, the fresh air, that could be it.”
Matthew hums into the phone for a moment before he speaks again. “Look, baby. I’m just calling to say I’m sorry. Again. You, uh—you never called me back, so I was wondering if everything is okay.”
No, everything is not okay, the voice in your head sneers at you, making you grimace to think that he had been waiting for you to call him back when he barely crossed your mind. “Right, I’m sorry. I’ve been around my family—” and in-laws, you add inwardly before you continue, “—so things have been overwhelming. I just couldn’t find the right time to call you and talk.”
Once again, your tongue feels bitter with all the lies. Though a part of your excuse isn’t a complete lie this time, when you have been surrounded by your family since you arrived yesterday and Namjoon had almost never left your side. And you obviously could never slip away from Winny to make any phone call in the middle of the family reunion without raising questions. Not even if you would try to make a silly excuse to say that you were to make a call about work.
But there is also a part of you that had been intentionally avoiding him, for reasons that you could barely understand.
Looking back to it now, and then recalling everything that has happened since last night, you wonder if this whole ruse has had something to do with it. Perhaps you had gotten too deep in playing the role as the dotted wife who is returning for the holiday week to be with her husband. Perhaps a part of you enjoyed reliving this part of your life without any disturbance from the real world and from any part of your present life, and you just weren’t ready to wake up from that illusion too soon.
You close your eyes and sigh, barely catching on to what he is saying on the phone with your mind drifting away while he keeps on talking. “—I didn’t want to interrupt your time with your family, but I just need to know if you’re still mad at me. I don’t want us to fight while we’re apart, especially when it’s Christmas.”
“I know. I’m sorry, I was just a bit—busy. But I’m not mad at you, I promise.”
A deep sigh is heard from his side, and he mutters softly, “Good, that’s good,” while you grow tense as you anticipate what he is about to say next. “So—have you had the talk with your parents yet?”
You begin pulling on your towel as you try to think of an excuse. “No, baby. We just got here, remember? Everyone was busy preparing for this trip and then we got caught up in catching up, I could barely share anything and update them about what’s going on with my life aside from stories coming from work. And I told you, my grandmother has been sick, so I didn’t want to steal the stoplight too much from everyone.”
He remains silent as you ramble on, until he finally says, “Maybe I can help.”
“What do you mean?”
“What if I fly there so I can join you? Meet your family while everyone is there? All the preparation for my parents’ Christmas gala is done already and I won’t even have too much to do before the New Year’s Eve party. I think I can slip away a day or two and join you there. That way we can share the news together, what do you say?” He speaks so fast that you can barely catch up to what he is saying, and the moment you do, you can feel your heart pushing its way up to your throat.
“You want to come here?” you ask him, almost stuttering.
“Yes, why not? My family’s jet is available since everyone will be staying here for the event and we can fly back together right after seeing your family. We’ll save up on plane tickets that way, won’t we?”
The more excited he sounds, the more anxious you feel about it. To imagine him coming here, to not only expose your secret past with Namjoon but to also ruin the ruse—you can feel your blood draining while you can barely breathe. You can’t even stay seated with your anxiety rising up. Your head begins to pound as you stand up and begin pacing back and forth in the bedroom.
“Fly—here?” you ask again, wishing that he would start laughing and tell you that he is simply joking. But the only answer you get to hear is, “Yes! I can have it arranged soon. I can fly out there on Christmas morning, and—”
“No, Matthew don’t. You can’t do that.” In your panic, the words simply slip right out of you before you can do anything to stop it, surprising yourself and—judging from the silence that falls from his side—him as well.
“Why can’t I?” he asks you after a beat of silence, the tone of his voice filled with suspicions and you feel the urge to pull your hair out.
Still pacing on the floor, you try to find the best excuse that you can think of to erase every thought he could have about flying here to see you. “Just—this is a private event and my family isn’t as big or as open as yours.”
Lies, lies, all nothing but lies, when you know for sure how welcoming your parents have been to your friends in the past. But how are you supposed to explain to him that he barely exists to your parents? And how the hell would you explain to your family if Matthew just randomly shows up, introducing himself as your fiancé, when they are probably thinking that you are trying to reconcile with Namjoon through this trip? And what about Winny?
All these thoughts keep running in your head while Matthew simply grows silent. You don’t have to see him to know the gears in his head are turning at the same time, and you suddenly despise the fact that you are somehow engaged to a lawyer. And a damn talented one at that, you have to admit, when you have witnessed him time and time again exposing frauds and terrible liars in courts.
“Is there something wrong about me seeing your parents?” he questions you, sending chills down your spine with the accusing tone latching onto his voice. “We’re getting married anyway, aren’t we? I’d eventually have to meet them and introduce myself.”
“Yes, I know, but—” You close your eyes and try your best to control your breath. Remember, he can expose your lies and pick up on an uneven tone so easily, you remind yourself as you try to calm your nerves and make sure to stay collected as you speak to him. “Can’t we do it next time? Maybe when it’s not the holidays or on any other private occasion. I just don’t want to overwhelm my parents or my grandmother with so much going on already.”
A faint sound of someone talking is heard passing right in front of your door and you briefly stop, moving further from the door before you can continue.
“It’s not that I don’t want to introduce you to everyone, it’s just—The timing wouldn’t be right. I just—I need to ease this thing to my parents.”
“Is that so?” he asks you, and it is obvious that he isn’t buying it. “There’s always something, isn’t it?” His voice sounds harsh as he says this, making you flinch at his tone, knowing that you have made him grow angry at you again. “Seriously, what is the matter with you? Is there something going on that I need to know about? Did you meet someone and suddenly have a change of heart? Because you’ve been acting strange and distant since you went back home and it’s like I can’t talk with you so I don’t know what to think!”
Shaking under his wrath, and to how close he had come to the truth, you reach out to grab the backrest of the nearest chair and hold on tight. “I’m sorry. Things are just too complicated right now, and I can’t really tell you anything.”
“Right, of course,” he says with a sneer. “Well, you know how to contact me when you’re done being so—so aloof and when you’re ready to tell me what the fuck is going on with you.”
With those last words, Matthew ends the phone call. The sound of the final click makes you flinch and it makes your breath hitch at the finality of his words and the way he ended the call. You have grown used to seeing him getting emotional, letting his anger and frustration show, but it feels different when you are on the other end of it.
And it makes it even harder for you not to crumble because you are the guilty party.
Dropping down on the chair, you place the phone away with shaking hands. All so suddenly, you feel like the rug has been pulled from beneath you and there is nothing stopping you from falling. There is nothing stopping you from being pulled and awakened from the illusions that you had let yourself drown in.
Dropping your head into your hands, you chastise yourself and let all the dread of guilt wash over you.
You shouldn’t have agreed to be a part of this ruse. Or, at least, you should have kept your head firmly on your shoulder instead of getting drawn into the moment. You should have said the hell with it and insisted harder on Namjoon to sign the divorce papers so you wouldn’t have to worry about getting your secrets exposed if—and when—Matthew decides to register your marriage legally.
Your mind flies back to what had happened between you and Namjoon last night, and what had occurred this morning, only less than an hour ago, and you feel like you need to smack your own head so you could get your act together.
What were you thinking, making out with Namjoon like that after all the talk about letting go and moving on? How can you let yourself lost in his touch when you had sworn to yourself that you would never fall for his charms and that you would never forget what you had come all the way back here for?
Taking a deep breath, you muster every will to snap your head back into place and out of the illusion of the life that you had let go of a long time ago. This part of your life had been lost, and whatever you had thought you felt with Namjoon since you had gotten back had been nothing but a broken piece of your memory forcing itself back into your mind, nothing but an illusion.
Perhaps you have grown too comfortable in this situation, letting yourself get tempted to the alluring part of your past that you had wished you still have, but now it is time to face reality and to get your focus back on track, to remember your purpose.
Finish the whole charade, keep Winny happy for a little while longer, and then have Namjoon sign the papers so you can be free, you remind yourself, repeating those words in your head until they sink in. Because there is nothing left for you here but a fleeting dream, while you have your entire life waiting for you, away from this place, and—most certainly—far away from him.
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For the rest of the day, you try your best to avoid being alone with Namjoon.
You still play your part for as much as you need to whenever you are among the others, though you let Namjoon run the show as he openly shows his affection, giving you light touches and kisses while mingling with the rest of the family. But the moment the act is done, you will try to put a distance between you, always evading him whenever he tries to come close without anyone watching and finding excuses to slip away whenever he is trying to pull you aside.
It had taken you nearly all morning to get your act together, and it helped that he was gone for a long time as he went to join the rest of the men on their shopping trip to the nearest store. Then everyone’s excitement during the outdoor barbecue feast had managed to give you the escape you needed, when Namjoon kept being pulled away to help tend the grill while Winny kept insisting that you would stay with her the entire time.
It isn’t until after dinner when he finally manages to catch up with you just when you are about to slip away to find shelter out on the porch, thinking that perhaps you can wait out there until Namjoon would fall asleep before you can return to your bedroom to avoid anything untoward to ever happen between you. But you should have known that it hadn’t slipped his attention that you have been steering clear of him the whole day and is just about to try to escape him yet again.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” is the first thing he says when he catches you moments after you slip out of the door. “Is there something wrong? What happened?”
Not expecting to have him ruining your escape plan and finding yourself somehow out here all alone with him, the words simply die down on your tongue. You open your mouth, ready to launch some random excuses to slip away from him when Namjoon comes approaching you with a determined look in his eyes. There is also something else in his eyes that makes you stop before you even try to evade him—a mix of wariness, curiosity, and a hint of despair—as if having you slipping away all day and giving him cold shoulders have been affecting him more than you had thought it would.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” is the only thing you can say to him, though it is clear that there is no use of you to act so aloof about it when he simply responds with a scoff.
“Right,” he says with a bitter chuckle. “Don’t play dumb with me. Did you really think I wouldn’t notice?”
Namjoon has come so close that he is looming over you, keeping his voice low enough only for you to hear. His looming presence and his deep rumbling voice make you feel so little, cornered, and you lean back to the railing on the edge of the porch to hold on, trying to make yourself tall as you return his intense gaze with your own. “What is going on inside that brilliant head of yours, Baby Doll? What game are you playing with me?” he slowly questions you, and his words snap something inside you.
“There is no game,” you hiss at him just as you hear the sound of laughter ringing from inside the lodge. Looking over his shoulders, you make sure that there is nobody passing by this area to find the two of you having this face off. God knows what would cross their minds if they should ever find you out here together like this.
“You must have thought you have been so slick to avoid me and that nobody would notice. But even Winny caught on to your act and she’s been asking me if you’re feeling okay,” Namjoon says with a sneer, while you grimace, realising just how terrible you have been at pretending after all.
With a frown on your face, you look up, finding Namjoon looking at you, no longer with the sneer or annoyance on his face, but more of a concern. “Something happened while I was gone, hasn’t it?”
“Nothing happened. It’s just—” Your mind flies back to the phone call that you had with Matthew, to being the receiving end of his anger, and you pull back just when Namjoon lifts his hand to touch you. “Maybe I just realised that this—whatever it is that’s been going on between us—is wrong.” Shaking your head, you look up into his eyes and plead, “We just can’t—I just can’t have it happening again. I can’t allow it.”
Namjoon scoffs. “You won’t allow it? Always have to be the one to make the rules, don’t you?”
The condescending tone in his voice feels like a knife piercing through your chest. You can barely hold back from pushing him off when you lift your chin up to respond to him. “I thought all we had to do was play a role? To act only when we have audiences watching us? Not to do something like—” You stop just as the image of you kissing him, touching him, letting him bring pleasure through your body comes flashing through your head and your whole skin flushes, and it is somehow making you feel even angrier that you had even let yourself lost in that moment in time that your voice comes out as a hiss when you continue, “Not to act on it while we’re alone. Not to lose control when we’re—”
When we’re not supposed to. When we have a time limit.
The words simply remain inside your head when it suddenly feels too painful for you to say them out loud.
“Lose control? Is that all it ever was?” he questions you, though it sounds more like he is wondering these words out loud. Placing his hands on either side of you, he leans closer, caging you against the wooden railing behind you as he lowers himself, getting close to your face.
“I’m going to ask you again, what the hell happened with you? Why all the sudden change? One minute you were okay with everything and it was obvious that you wanted it to happen, and then you suddenly act like you just can’t get away from me fast enough and now you’re off rambling on as if you didn’t want me too.” Namjoon asks you, before he lifts one hand, reaching up to brush away the hair that has fallen on your face when you were getting too emotional. He moves his fingers ever so gently, and yet you can still feel his knuckles brushing gently across your skin. The featherlight touch brings a shudder through your body, and it doesn’t slip Namjoon’s attention when he could feel it, even if it only happens for such a brief moment.
“Tell me you feel nothing when I touch you like this,” he whispers to you as he brings the tip of his fingers down, tracing an invisible path down the nape of your neck.
Almost instantly, your body comes to life. The light touch he is giving you simply lights up your senses, the shudders feel so delightful, and the pull between you simply strengthen itself that it would be so easy for you to simply give in to it and let go.
But this is wrong, your conscience speaks, snapping you out of it that it helps you muster enough strength to grab him by the wrist and stop him before he can go on.
“No, we can’t do this. You need to remember why I came here in the first place and why we’re doing this,” you whisper as you push him away while shaking your head. While your reaction and your words seem to light something else inside him that his eyes only grow hard, and his words—that had been enough to draw you to him and had managed to break the walls that you had built between you—now suddenly sounds vindictive, taunting, coming at you like a jab to your gut when he says,
“You can’t or you won’t? Tell me what you feel when you’re with me. Tell me you feel nothing.”
In an instant, everything that you feel for him changes. It feels as if he had just ripped the band-aid that has been present to hide your wounds and what comes out of it is vicious, filled with all the pain that you had buried, laid almost forgotten, and now coming awake just as strongly as the desire that you have felt for him ever since he had first brought it back up from your cold heart, and it gives you enough strength to push him away, severing the pull that has kept you blinded from all the painful memories that were left from the moment he had stomped all your dreams and your heart into nothing.
“Fuck you, Namjoon. You don’t get to say these things to me or even had the audacity of asking me about my feelings when you were the one who pushed me away and broke us apart,” you cry out as you keep pushing against his chest in your anger. The sudden burst of your rage renders him speechless at first, before he snaps,
“Are we going to talk about that now? About what happened years ago? Is that it?” He begins seething with anger, though you can see the hurt in his eyes. “Well, let me remind you that I wasn’t the one who left and gave up on us,” he says, pointing at you. “You were the one who walked away.”
His words feel like a slap right on your face and you can no longer hold everything back. “You broke up with me,” you nearly scream to his face, not even caring if there is anyone inside the lodge that can hear you as you continue to face him, letting the hurt inside you reveal itself for him to see. “You were the one who said that there was no point for us to even try to go on, that it would be better for me to just go and leave you behind. That was what you said to me!”
“I thought that was what you wanted…!”
“What I wanted was for the man that I loved with every-fucking-thing that I had to fucking fight for me!”
This time, Namjoon is the one who looks as if your words had slapped him right on his face. The moment he speaks again, his voice sounds small, and broken, as he can only whisper, “I never gave up on you.”
The fight simply leaves you after hearing his words and once you are done pouring out everything that you have kept to yourself for a long time. Except that it only leaves you with one simple question that you have yet to find the answers to.
“Why did you keep sending me back the divorce papers?”
Say it. Please, say it. Tell me that you have been waiting for me. You silently beg, and beg, only realising now that these are the exact words that you have been waiting for him to say to you.
But Namjoon remains silent, keeping his eyes away from you still. Instead, all he does is clench his jaw and he begins shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter,” is the only thing that Namjoon says to you. His eyes no longer hold the same warmth and longing that you had seen in them merely moments before when he looks at you, as if he is withdrawing from you again. You can feel him putting up a barrier as he protects himself from the tremors coming from the pull that is still tethering you together.
“I’ll sign the papers. You’ll be leaving this weekend, right? I’ll give them back to you in the morning.”
With that, Namjoon turns away and goes back inside, leaving you standing there all alone on the porch, with your heart still bleeding out from the pain that he had ripped open and your tears still running down your face. He never returns for the night to sleep in your shared bedroom, while having your heart torn out has left you exhausted, completely drained that you easily fall asleep the moment you find solace in your bedroom.
Completely on your own.
Only to wake up the next morning to find the divorce papers resting on his cold pillows, marked with his signature right at the bottom of the page.
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The rest of the day simply floats by. Though you cannot really say that things are going smoothly as they had been for the past two days. It feels more as if you are walking through a thick pool of gelatine, wading heavily through the surface as much as you can without being swallowed down to the bottom.
At the same time, your body seems to be moving on autopilot, and it helps you to play your role well despite the numbness you are feeling within. You can still find a way to smile, to laugh at any random jokes, to nod whenever you need to, though you can barely listen to what people have to say.
When you finally saw Namjoon again during breakfast, he had managed to act out as if nothing has changed, so you were determined to play your part the way he could. Even if it takes a lot for you not to grimace at his touch or to flinch whenever he kisses you or when he presses his lips on your temple the way he always would in the middle of a conversation with Winny.
You are having so much trouble keeping it up together that it barely registers to you that tonight would be the highly eventful Christmas dinner. The night where you are supposed to be filled with joy. Where you are supposed to embrace the moment while being surrounded by the people that mean to you the most—and yes, that obviously includes Namjoon—and yet, you can barely feel a thing when it feels like every part of you is slowly crumbling. That for some reason, you are left as nothing but a shell, present but completely meaningless, as if it wouldn’t matter if you are no longer a part of this picture-perfect moment.
You do, however, take as much time as you can get to record all of this into your memory. Taking in everyone’s presence, their expressions, their stories, keeping this night as something that you will cherish for the rest of your life. Watching everyone sharing all the love and the bond that has been there for years, you realise what you have missed out on for a long time. You know that there is no use to dwell on the past, but you try your best to picture this as something that you can possibly reach again in the future.
One day, perhaps, after all of this ends.
And only if everyone would forgive you for what you are about to do.
It isn’t until in the middle of the dessert, when your uncle suddenly stands at the end of the table with his best friend, Bernie, and they both start belting out the Christmas Carol when you reach out to grab Namjoon’s hand, surprising him for a moment when you give him a squeeze until you turn to smile at him. His eyes are wide when he sees how relaxed you are, not seeing the way your mind is working hard to plan out just how you are going to give this story an end. And then you start to join the duo, keeping the smile on your face as you look at him, encouraging him to join in as everyone else are singing along.
You can feel Winny’s eyes on you as she sits right on your other side, and you find her watching you with glossy eyes. So you reach out, grabbing her hand with your free one, creating a bond between the three of you to share this moment. Even if it is only for one last time.
You return to an empty bedroom once dinner is long over, everyone has retreated to their rooms earlier after their bellies are full with the sweet desserts that Winny and your mother had made and all the alcohol that was present on the table.
Once again, Namjoon has chosen not to join you in your room, disappearing somewhere in another part of the lodge as he tries to avoid you.
This time, you find it hard to go to sleep. Not that you ever plan to do so anyway. And not when you can still feel his presence on the empty side of the bed, as his scent still lingers even when the sheets have grown cold.
Each time you close your eyes, you can still see those moments inside your head. You have tried so hard to deny it before, but being with him did make you feel everything. The comfort, the desire, the raw carnal need that you had never felt with anyone else the way you did with him. And now that your mind and body remember perfectly well what it is like to be with him, to be in his arms and to feel his love, you know that there is no turning back.
Being with Namjoon after going through all the pain many years ago now feels dangerous. Disastrous—that would be the only way to describe it, because why else would you end up losing control like that when you are together, or to be acting like teenagers who are completely helpless against the desire coursing through your body. It makes you completely reckless—just like how he managed to pull you onto his lap after dinner at the back porch, going completely out of bounds as you kept going at each other, practically clawing each other skin in the process of tearing out your clothes without any care of your surroundings. Or just like the other morning, when you were riding him without a care as if it had been something that you had always done.
The tension coming from those short, heated moments still lingers in your body, making your skin feel hot and tight even when you are far away from him and when he is no longer in sight. Rubbing your hands up and down your bare arms, you take a seat right on the edge of the bed, trying to find solace until the tremors in your body would start to subside.
Except that you quickly realise that it would be impossible for it to happen when you realise that the tremors are coming from deep within your chest.
“I’ll sign the papers.”
If it had been years ago, if it had happened before you joined him on this trip, perhaps you would have felt relieved, pleased to finally have what you have been waiting for. To have your freedom. To finally have your life back. To gain a chance to decide on your future without constantly being haunted by him and the memory of your history together.
But as you wrap your arms around yourself, the only feeling that you have now is nothing but agony, despair, sadness, and it takes you a while before you realise that what you are feeling is your heart breaking into pieces, realising only now that the shackles that you had thought to be the one holding you back from your happiness had in fact been the only thing that has been holding you up and keeping you together from falling apart. Now that you are about to become free from it, there is nothing stopping it from having your entire world and the life that you had created for yourself from falling apart.
Realising all of this, you find yourself determined to start working on your plan. Rising from the bed, you walk around the bag that you have packed earlier this afternoon and reach out to find your phone, setting it up on the table near the windows so you can have better reception.
It takes a while for the call to come through, and then suddenly his face comes to the screen.
“Hey there, stranger,” Matthew’s smile comes beaming from the other end, and it brings a similar smile to your face.
“Hey, just calling to say Merry Christmas before you get too tired.”
He chuckles softly when he hears this, before answering you softly, “Merry Christmas, babe. How was the family dinner?”
“It was great,” you answer him. “It was amazing, but it probably wasn’t any close to yours. Did the Christmas Gala go on well?”
Matthew nods, and pride comes to his face when he begins sharing with you about his wonderful night with his family and the important people that had been invited to the event. It appears that a lot of people had come from every part of the city just to attend the night. Something that isn’t too surprising knowing how important his family is to the city. With his parents being high ranked politicians while he and his siblings have slowly become successful lawyers following on their tracks. Had that been the reason why you were so drawn to him? The alluring world and the glamorous life that he could offer you that had somehow seemed to be the answers to your dreams?
You can see him still wearing his tuxedo for the night, and you admire his handsome look, even if you had seen it when he sent a photo of him wearing the tux before the gala had started. Seeing that he has yet to change, it shows that the event had only ended not too long ago and he had just returned to his penthouse.
“That sounds marvellous. Are you exhausted? You seem like you’re still glowing for some reason.”
Matthew laughs. “Just the Christmas spirit, babe. I just feel sorry that you weren’t here with me. You would’ve looked amazing if you had come with me in your pretty dress.”
His words make you smile, before you feel your guilt rising slowly, reminding you of what you need to do to make things right. “Seeing that you’re now home, I was wondering if we can talk?” Your heart starts to pound even before you can say anything, but you know that you need to get through this. That you need to do this now before it would be too late. “There’s something that I need to—say. A lot of them, actually.”
“Right, right,” Matthew says, nodding his head with a knowing look on his face, just as his beaming smile slowly fades. You can see him taking a seat, resting back on the sofa that you have grown familiar with after spending many nights there with him. He rubs his palm down his face with a sigh, before looking back at you through the screen again with an intense look in his eyes and says,
“Perhaps you can start by explaining to me about the request you made through our affiliates, Jeon and Partners, before you had to leave, when you had them draft a divorce statement for you, listed under your name.”
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It feels like forever before midnight comes to pass.
Throughout the night as everyone in the lodge descends into their slumber, retreating to their rooms one person at a time with the anticipation of waking up to the bright Christmas morning, you remain in your room, waiting, until the only thing you can sense beyond that door is silence. It doesn’t take much for you to sneak into your uncle’s room and use the drunken state that he is in to coax him into lending his truck. With the keys clutched in one hand and your packed overnight bag on the other, you move carefully through the night, making your way downstairs without making so much of a noise that could possibly wake everyone up and ruin your plans.
As you continue to make your escape and slip out through the side door heading to the parked vehicles, the conversation you had with Matthew earlier continues to replay itself in your head. After the last fight you had with him, he had grown so curious to figure out why you have been acting so strange that he had gone digging around to find what you had been secretly hiding from him.
The moment he revealed to you that he had found out that you had filed for divorce to someone else through an affiliate law firm, your heart had instantly plummeted. But then as you finally told him everything, making him understand your situation and why you had to do what you are about to do, the only thing you feel after was—relief. It had been the first sign that showed you that you were on the right track. That you are doing the right thing.
The only thing for you to do left is to walk away from this. Because you can no longer lie to everyone and there is absolutely no place for you here. Not anymore. At least, not until you can—
“So that’s it? You’re going to leave again?”
You are only a few steps away to reach your uncle’s truck when you hear his voice. For a moment, the thought that perhaps you are imagining it comes across your head. But then you turn around, finding him standing there on the side porch while keeping its lights turned off.
As if he had been waiting, lurking in the dark.
As if he had predicted this.
He remains silent as he makes his way to you, walking in slow, long strides with his head held high and his eyes locked on you. Stopping only two steps away from you, his eyes fall on the overnight bag you are carrying in your hand and his jaw clenches tight.
“You’re really leaving,” he says, before his eyes find yours.
“I—I have to,” you can barely choke out the words, suddenly feeling so small under the scrutiny of his gaze. Shaking your head, you dare yourself to look at him in the eyes to plead to him. “I’ve made a mess of things and I’ve only made it worse by coming here. You know I can’t stay. I’m so sorry.”
You turn away just then, only to have him stopping you. Catching you by the wrist, Namjoon pulls you back so that you are facing him. The hardness in his eyes is no longer present when you look up at him, though you still have no idea how to read the expression he is wearing.
He says nothing for a moment, just taking you in, then he pulls you closer to him ever so gently while murmuring, “Don’t go.” His request catches you by surprise, but it is nothing compared to what he says next. “You asked me to fight for you?” he asks, taking your other wrist into his hand as he gently peels the car keys out of your clutch. “Here I am. Don’t go. Don’t leave.”
Startled, your head falls back as you release a bitter laugh. “Oh, God. Namjoon—” You blink away the tears that are threatening to fall. You have been hoping that you could have a chance to keep it together until you can reach the town, or perhaps once you are back home, before you can have your breakdown. So much for your plans, you wonder while shaking your head.
“I can’t stay. You know I can’t,” you finally tell him. “I can no longer look into Winny’s eyes and not feel guilty for pretending to be someone I’m not, to play a role of the person who has no place here.”
Namjoon lifts your chin up with his gentle fingers, and he makes you look up to meet his gaze before he speaks. “That’s not what I saw when you were sitting there at the dinner table with us, singing along with Bernie and your uncle no matter how out of tune they were and laughing at my Dad’s corny jokes,” he says with his lips curling to a small smile. You are lost in the depth of his gaze to realise that he has not only stolen the keys away from you but he has also pulled your bag away, throwing it to the ground before he takes your hand in his.
“That’s not what I saw when you were holding my hand or when you are with Winny, tending to her needs and listening to her stories,” he says, bringing your hand to his lips. “This is where you belong, _______. You are home. You belong here with us. With me.”
He lowers his head as he says this, but instead of brushing his lips on your face or lips, he presses a kiss on the top of your head. At this point, you are slowly losing every bit of resolve that you still have, already forgetting everything that you had been planning to do.
His words serve like an enchantment, filling your head so easily to replace every thought, every doubt, and it becomes so easy for you to simply lean into it and embrace the way his request is making you feel when you have been waiting to hear those exact words to come from him for years. It had taken you so long to admit this, but you had never truly stopped waiting. You had done all you could to relinquish the hope you ever had for finding your way back to him again, only to have the memory of your broken heart stopping you from ever trying to reach out to him again.
“Stay,” he whispers softly as he buries his nose between the strands of your hair. “Don’t go.”
As you lean into him, he flattens one hand on your back, letting it drift slowly upward until his palm comes to the base of your neck. He continues to brush his nose gently across your hair, breathing through the strands while pressing his mouth to kiss your hair, with each kiss drawing a shiver through your body.
Your hand grips onto his shirt then, though you are not quite sure whether you want to stop him or to urge him to carry on. “Namjoon—”
“Sshh—” he murmurs against your hair, then his fingers find your chin, lifting your head gently to look at him again just when you try to avoid his gaze and pull away. He pulls your face towards him, letting his lips dance over yours ever so gently with a hesitant kiss.
For a brief moment, you make no move to return the kiss, still too stunned and still feeling too vulnerable against the turmoil happening inside you. As always, Namjoon manages to bring back all the emotions within you, and it takes you a moment to be able to process them all together, to let the last bit of your restraint crumble, and you begin to press against him, kissing him back gently until you both begin to let go.
He hums his approval as he kisses your lips before he pulls back. With his hooded eyes on you, he grips the back of your neck and tilts your head back. The hold he has on you feels firm, and yet he remains gentle as he is pressing his mouth on your furrowed brows, your temple, and then on your eyelids as your eyes are beginning to flutter close to his gentle kisses, before finally dipping down to find your lips.
Your fingers tighten on his shirt, and your mouth falls open against his to welcome him. And almost instantly, the kiss goes from a soft and gentle caress to a dominating one, growing hot and needy in less than a second, and you can feel his hunger taking over him as he slides his tongue into your mouth. As you are submitting to him, opening yourself up to the searing kiss and the touches of his fingers on your body, your own hands come reaching up to start clawing on his shirt, wishing it gone so you can feel the connection that you have with him through every delicate touch of your skin against his.
You have no idea what is happening to you. It is hard to explain why you cannot seem to keep your head on straight when you are in his arms. It feels like your body simply comes alive while also losing its will to run when he is holding you like this. It should be wrong to relish on this delightful feeling, when you had only come here in the first place in order to end this instead of coming back to it. But there is also something so right to be with him again. All the things that he makes you feel and everything that you share with him feel completely different from anything else that you had ever experienced. Though it is not as if you have truly experienced a lot when it comes to relationships and men.
Namjoon had always been the only one. From the only boy that you had ever loved to the only man that you have ever been with. Even if you have made up your mind to move on, to be with someone else, you have slowly realised that whatever you had with Matthew could never compare to what you and Namjoon have shared for years. And every memory of what you felt when you were with him is definitely worlds apart from the kind of feelings that Namjoon is able to ignite in you so easily with his touches.
Namjoon bites your bottom lip in the middle of the kiss, snapping you right out of it and makes you both pull back from the heated kiss. Both of you are breathless, the air between you curling with a thin veil of white fog, and there is no doubt that both of your bodies are burning with need. But neither of you make a move to come apart any further, keeping your hands on each others’ bodies to hold on and your mouths are still hovering against one another.
“Tell me you’re staying,” he whispers against your lips. As if the way you are kissing him has yet to serve as the answer that he needs to hear. And he simply needs to hear it, to have you say the words out loud.
But you find it hard for you to speak. Both from being so breathless still and for feeling the fear that you might be giving the wrong answer. Suddenly, you are no longer sure just where you are leaning into. A part of you still wants to flee, to protect yourself from the past heartache and the possibility of having to go through all of it all over again. While another part of you finds home in his embrace, and there is nothing that your soul wants more than to return to a place where you truly belong.
“I can’t—” you begin to answer, only to stop when you have no idea what to say. You simply cannot decide which path to take as of this moment, when everything seems to be crumbling just the way it did the day you left this town 3 years ago. But then you reach up, resting your palm on his face as you look straight into his eyes, finding the love that had been the reason for you to live, coming from the man who had once been your strength and your weakness, and everything inside you breaks apart. “Namjoon—”
You know that he can see it in your eyes as it happens, when he can see the pain in your eyes that is too stubborn to leave. Then he is suddenly looming over you, pushing you back towards your uncle’s truck until you can feel the hard ridges from the vehicle pressing against your back. You cannot really tell whether it is coming from his rage for seeing your inability to let go of the past or simply a part of his presence, but he sets your body on fire without even laying a single touch of his hand.
“You don’t have to leave,” he whispers, suddenly pressing so close to you as he pins you back against the truck that you can feel his chest vibrating with his deep voice.
“I have to,” you choke out, though you are starting to feel yourself giving in.
“No one said that you should.”
You continue to shake your head. “It won’t be right if I stay any longer,” you mutter softly, more to yourself than to him, but Namjoon takes it as something that you are throwing at him just to have a reason to walk away.
“Says who?”
“Namjoon, I—” You stop and look at him. Your eyes find his, finding the pain emitting from within their depths, and it is enough to make you question things. But you need to get things out of your chest and make him see it. “What we’ve done, what we’ve been doing—That kiss under the mistletoe, that was a part of an act, a show, but everything else that came after—” you shake your head at him. “It was wrong. We were wrong. We shouldn’t have let things gone so far.”
“Why not?”
“Because—” Your breath hitches just as the twist in your chest returns. “Namjoon, I said yes. I was already engaged to someone else.” You bite your tongue to avoid telling him the truth, that even if you leave today, you may not have anything to come back to. Not after that last conversation that you had with Matthew and how he had reacted to the news.
But instead of yelling at you, Namjoon simply looks at you with a deep gaze that has yet to waver. “You’re still my wife,” he says, with a tone that you can barely decipher, though you can still feel him laying claim on you with those words.
“Do you love him?”
His question surprises you. You open your mouth, only to close it again when you cannot find the answer. Do you really love him? Have you ever truly felt anything for Matthew? Or do you simply love the idea of having someone admiring you, loving you, chasing you to the end of the earth with a promise of forever?
The promise that Namjoon had once given you, and apparently he had kept without you knowing any of it. All of a sudden this thought comes into your head, sneaking in when least expected. It may have gotten inside your head ever since you started seeing this new part of him, to know all the things that he had been working on and the reason behind all of it.
But you still have to return, you remind yourself that you would still need to resolve things with Matthew face to face, to be able to have an actual conversation that a simple video call couldn’t provide so you can explain yourself properly. And you also have your job. The career that you have built for many years, waiting for you to return. Even if you know that things would certainly change now, because there is no way you could possibly return to work in the same place with Matthew. Not after what you did.
“One day,” he says, stopping you before you can say anything. “Just stay here with me one more day, and you can decide tomorrow if you still want to leave or if you want to stay for another.” He stops to take a deep breath, before adding with a small voice, “If not for me, then—”
You grimace when you suddenly remember.
Your eyes flutter close when a pinch of guilt comes to your chest. Would you really have done it to Winny, to just walk away and leave without saying goodbye? After everything that she had done for you?
You open your eyes again. And the first thing that you see when you look at him nearly knocks the air out of your chest. In his eyes, you see something that he had never truly shown you before. Something that you cannot remember ever seeing before.
You see his vulnerability. You see his pain. And suddenly, you question yourself if there is really something true in the words that he had given you before.
“Did you mean it? What you said before—?”
He frowns. “About what?”
“That you—” You stop, not sure how to approach this without having him pulling away from you again. Not sure how much it will break you if he isn’t giving you the answer that you want to hear. “That you never—”
“I never gave up,” he immediately answers before you can question him properly. “Never really did.” His deep gaze softens as he releases a deep sigh. Then you can see his guilt as he looks at you, before he covers it by resting his forehead on yours. “I wanted to race out there and fight for you the moment I realised that I was nothing without you and that I shouldn’t have pushed you away. But I knew that it wouldn’t be right for me if I had simply begged you to come back when you were finally getting everything you wanted.”
Once he stops talking, you find yourself exhaling a relieved sigh. Hearing his words doesn’t erase the pain that you had gotten from the past, but it does make your heart swell. And it changes the way you are seeing him even further. He is still silent as he gives you a chance to process this, making no move to touch you or to walk away, until you push yourself up on your tiptoes and press your lips on his.
“One day,” you whisper softly, finally agreeing. The logical part of your mind is telling you that you are simply agreeing to stay simply because it is late, and there is no way you could possibly drive all the way back to town in the darkness and through the route down the mountains that you can barely remember.
But the other part of your mind is telling you something else. Insisting that you would stay solely because of him. Because you want to see another glimpse of Namjoon that you haven’t seen and all that you have missed ever since you left. And you can tell that you are opening up to him, and opening up to chances, finally giving in to this moment, no matter how hard you have been trying to fight it. And you let him know this when you tilt your face up toward his once again, as if giving yourself to him, but also giving him a chance to take the olive branch that you are handing out to him.
Namjoon seems hesitant at first, not completely sure if you are truly giving things a chance or if you are seconds away from challenging him again. But as you remain defiant, keeping your chin up as he dips his head lower, and then lower, and you make no move to look away or to push him back, Namjoon no longer holds himself back.
You feel like you are in a daze when you feel his lips on yours, still barely recovering after all the revelation that he had just given you. He kisses you gently at first, brushing his lips lightly against yours once, twice, and then pressing slightly harder when he comes for the third. It sure feels like he is still holding himself back, as if he simply refuses to give in entirely. Not when you still refuse to let him see what his kisses and his touches do to you.
As you close your eyes, the pained look that you saw from him earlier comes back to you, reminding you of the pain that you had felt years ago when you walked away from this old town, and it brings back the pain that you felt from losing him then. Just as you lean further against him, you realise that you have yet to heal from that old wound, which explains the need that you keep feeling to protect yourself from having too much hope. You also realise that you have come so close to losing him again tonight, and you would have probably been nursing the opened wound if he hadn’t chased you out from running.
The moment these thoughts fill your head, your body simply reacts. Your chest arches against him while your hands move to reach out to him, fingers tightening on his shirt, pulling him closer and tethering him to you as you take his bottom lip between your mouth and give him a light bite. The pain that you ignite in him snaps him out of it. And all so suddenly, Namjoon loses all control, and he simply lets himself go.
The moment his mouth meets yours again, a growl slips out of him and he pushes you firmly against the side of the truck, pressing his hard body against yours to pin you harder in place so that there is no more chance for you to escape. As his kiss becomes deeper, with him spilling all his need into it, his hands move around you, with one of them resting at the back of your head to hold you still against him while the other comes wrapping around your waist to press you to his chest. You simply melt against him, feeling his heartbeat pacing against yours and your body heat searing hot between you that it could have melted the snow around you if you would let them.
“We need to get inside. Can’t have you out here, you’ll be freezing cold,” he murmurs against your lips, his breath already growing ragged with need, while his touches are growing hot on your skin that not even your sweater can keep you from feeling it.
“Okay,” you whisper against his lips, though there is something in his eyes that keeps telling you that it wouldn’t simply be an act of sheltering you from the cold if you ever let him take you back inside. That he has something else in mind and the moment he can get you someplace safe, to get you to a place that is warm and comfortable, letting you rest would be the last thing in his mind.
You can also feel it in the way he is grabbing your hand and pulling you with him back into the lodge. How he is walking with long, impatient strides, keeping his shoulders straight, it becomes more obvious that he is moving with a goal set in mind. And then he quickly proves to you that you are right when he makes a turn as soon as you are both inside the lodge, moving towards the other side of the ground floor and away from the stairs, before opening a door that he finds downstairs. The next thing you know, he is pulling you into a bedroom that seems to have been left vacant as everyone had chosen all the bedrooms available on the upper floors.
Once you are both inside, Namjoon wastes no time to turn you around and push you against the door right after he closes and locks it behind him. Then his mouth quickly returns to yours, pressing a searing kiss that no longer holds any apprehension, showing you nothing more but lust and temptation and the pure hunger that he has more than once shown you before. What happens next is a flurry of clashing tongues and teeth and lips moulding to one another. His fingers come up to the back of your head, clutching tightly on your hair to hold you in place as he continues to devour your mouth, drawing soft moans from your throat and light shudders all over your body.
With his other hand, he follows the surge of pleasure running down your body, tracing his fingers down your curves while pressing down on your sensitive spots as he makes his way down. Your chest arches as he brushes his thumb over your covered nipple, pressing down hard over the nub that the sweater you are wearing barely feels present. Then he grabs tightly on your waist, pulling you to him and pressing against the small of your back until your hips are connected to his, allowing him to rub the evidence of his desire right against your abdomen, showing you without so much of a word just what you have been doing to him while claiming you as his.
This is everything that you remember of him. The way he takes without any shred of guilt when he presses his lips on yours and his hands are gripping you possessively without giving you any chance to slip away. How he devours your lips with pure hunger, swallowing your gasps, drowning the sound of your moans, and drinking the sounds of your breath until you are nothing but a bundle of flames, burning from deep within with your desire that continues to build up stronger as he lets you feel his own. The way he fists on your hair, entangling his long fingers through each curl and pulling your head back to make you submit to him, giving him access to trail his mouth down the column of your throat and giving him a full reign to control your body. The way he is rolling his hips, pressing the bulge of his arousal against the center of your pulsing need while his mouth continues to devour you.
Namjoon grunts against your skin as he nips at the sensitive spot under your ear, as he has recognised every part of your body that would be able to respond so easily to his touches. Then he slides one hand—the one that isn’t holding you up against him—to reach beneath your sweater, climbing back up the moment he meets your bare skin underneath, and then keeps moving up, until his fingers meet your bra and he swiftly grabs on to it, pulling it down, giving him full access to your breasts.
His hand comes back up, taking one mound into his palm, sending a wave of pleasure down your body as he begins to work on the soft flesh and the hardened nub with his palm and fingers. The wave continues to ripple inside you, rising steadily, moving from where he is touching you towards your pulsing core.
For every single time you are lost in bliss under his talented hands, you keep telling yourself how wrong it would be to give in. Even if he had been right when he reminded you that you are still legally his wedded wife, but years have passed and you still have something left unresolved waiting for you back in the city. But as he continues kissing you, his mouth pressing at the right places along the column of your throat then coming back up to find your lips, his hands touching everywhere while igniting the flame within you, you keep finding it hard to convince yourself to stop, to admit that this is something that you shouldn’t be doing.
How is this wrong, when it is your husband who is touching you? The man who you are still legally married to, both in the papers and under the legitimacy of your vows? And how can you possibly say that this is a mistake, when your heart still beats for him the way it did the day you said ’I do’, and when your whole body would only come awake under his touch?
When his hands are on your waist, pressing and kneading the way he would do it back then while rising you up against the wooden door behind you, you finally realise the reason why it had always felt as if your skin was crawling whenever Matthew touched you. The reason why your body seemed to scream ’this is wrong!’ whenever you tried to make love to another man.
Because both your heart and soul had only been searching for the one they have always meant to be with, and that person is the man who is now lifting you in his arms, carrying you to the bed that is placed right at the center of the room.
With his mouth no longer latching onto yours, you finally allow yourself to look around. The room is dark, with only the soft gleam from the moonlight illuminating the room, but you can still see Namjoon’s desire in his eyes as he gently sets you down on your back, right on top of the plushy bed that has grown cold for being neglected for days.
Under his gaze, your whole body thrums with a sort of carnal desperation. Something that you are beginning to see as a feeling that he might be experiencing as well, when you watch his eyes glinting with lust and pain when he rakes down your body with his gaze, when his chest heaves with all the pent up desire that he seems to have kept buried for a long time, and when his hands seem to unable to stay away, already reaching out to you and touching you with his gentle caress as if he wants to make sure that you are real.
When your hands reach for him, you realise that you share the same desperate need to feel him, to touch and connect to him. All the pain that you felt from the past is beginning to simmer, but it is still present, reminding you how painful it would be to lose him again and how close you had been to let it happen.
As his touches grow bolder, you feel that you are getting just as eager. Your hands begin to tug at his clothes while your mouth keeps meeting his with a passion that you haven’t felt for a long time and matches terribly to his own. Namjoon slips your sweater off of your shoulders, tossing it away to the nearest chair, before tossing his own jacket away to join it. He returns to you in a matter of seconds, then slides his fingers beneath your shirt with a sense of starvation and need to touch your bare skin. You can feel his hunger when his body vibrates right when you are shuddering under his touch, and you can hear it when he lets out a deep grunt while his breath grows ragged the moment your skin connected to each other.
The sound that he keeps making is causing you to grow more impatient, and you begin to tug and pull at his shirt, not even caring about it when you pop out the buttons in your desperate need to take his shirt right off of his body. Namjoon seems to share the same feeling, when it seems like the only concern that he has at the moment is to get you out of your clothes. He keeps tugging impatiently at your shirt while giving you his kisses so recklessly that you can feel your lips bruising with each pressure of his lips on yours. But you care nothing of it, only returning the kiss with your own need, while you do the same as you continue to tug at his clothes until his chest is left bare right at the same time he manages to toss your shirt away.
His eyes instantly fall onto your chest when you come apart, eyes dilating at the sight of your breasts spilling out of your bra after the mess that he had created in the heat of the moment, and the sight carries on to entice him further as your chest keeps rising and falling with your ragged breath. It sends him into some kind of a hungry daze, as his hands absentmindedly reach out for you, all while muttering under his breath, “Beautiful,” before he dips his head, capturing your mouth while his hands continue to mesh, knead, pressing onto your soft flesh and pinching at your nipples until you arch your body against him, feeling the pleasure moving rapidly inside you like sparks of flame licking at your center.
His hands trail down to your waist, cursing under his breath when he finds the waistband of your pants getting in the way. Instinctively, you also curse along with him at your decision to wear them. Though it had been undeniably the perfect decision for you to take before running out into the cold, you hate to admit that if only you had been wearing a skirt, or perhaps the same dress that you had worn during dinner, he would already find his way to be inside of you, to be touching you right where you are pulsing with need.
He doesn’t even try to pull away from the kiss even as he tugs at the zipper on your pants with one hand while he tries to work on his own zipper with the other, all while his tongue keeps dancing and teasing against yours in a way which sends magnificent jolts of need all the way down to your toes.
He stops the kiss as he shoves your pants down to your hips and you help as much as you could—by tearing your flimsy bra and kicking the damn pants and underthings the rest of the way until they are all gone, fallen to the floor before Namjoon climbs back on top of you. By then, you are nearly blinded with desire, and it intensifies the moment he slips his fingers between your legs, finding out just how ready you are for him. The touch of his fingers dancing around your heat draws a soft moan right out of your lips, while he breathes out a sigh of relief, as if your readiness serves as the answer to his prayers.
Instead of taking the chance to continue devouring you, Namjoon pulls back, his fingers retreating from your pulsing heat to shove his own pants down, releasing his cock as he kicks everything away. His pants and boxers fall onto the floor with a heap of a mess, and his hand comes down to wrap his hard length, stroking himself a few times as he bends down on the bed, his mouth finding your bare neck where he presses a kiss onto. At the sound of your whimper, his free hand reaches down between your legs, finding your heat once more. This time, his fingers move rather gentle and slow as he circles around your folds, moving in a steady rhythm as he slowly finds the center, then he dips the tips in, pressing right where your arousal keeps dripping out.
He hums against the nape of your neck as he slowly pushes his way in, dipping his fingers into your heat all the way to his knuckles and grunts as he feels your body shuddering against him. “Fuck, you’re tightening around me, Baby Doll,” he groans deeply, growing nearly breathless as he relishes on the way you are pulsing around his fingers while he continues to stroke himself gently, you can feel him moving against your hips and you raise yourself, inviting him to push himself into you.
Instead, he simply moves his fingers, sliding them in and out of you and rubbing the digits against your pulsing walls while his thumb finds your clit, pressing and circling until the pleasure comes rolling upward and you are left trashing on the bed with the need for release. You can feel the pleasure rising, reaching its peak, but also not quite there. Namjoon can probably feel this too as he gives you a quick peck on the lips before pulling back, suddenly rising and then climbing down the bed. He still has his fingers playing with your cunt, slowly picking up their pace as he thrusts them deeper, pressing right at your sweet spot, before he pulls his thumb away and his mouth latches on in its place.
Everything falls into another flurry of sinful bliss while your body becomes nothing but a bundle of nerve ending as he plays with your body so fluidly—his fingers continue pumping in and out of you, his mouth and tongue taking turns to tease and torture at your swollen clit, sucking and lapping while sometimes he would get his teeth into the mix and brush against the pulsing flesh until you are left trashing and crying with pleasure. There are tears in your eyes at how good he is making you feel and how quickly you are coming over the edge. With your hands clutching on his head, you press your hips down against his face, riding his mouth and hand with a matching pace to the rising pulse of your climax, chasing it with the help of his coaxing words, until you are finally there, as your orgasm comes rolling so intensely there is nothing stopping you from falling over the edge.
Your whole body continues to pulse with the spasms of your climax even as he slowly pulls back, releasing you from his mouth while his fingers are still moving gently around your folds to help you ride it down. Moving ever so slowly, Namjoon climbs his way back up, pressing his hand onto the bed beside you to prop himself over you. He stays there for a moment, watching you closely as you try to control your breath, your eyes slowly opening to him with pure love and lust looking back at him right at the same time you are seeing them coming from his own eyes.
“You can stop me,” he whispers hoarsely. “If you don’t want to do this. If you still want to—”
The words die down on his tongue, and yet you can still see the fear and doubt in his eyes without him ever having to say them out loud. You reach out to him, trembling hands cupping his face, your thumbs brushing to wipe away the remnants of your release that are still coating his mouth and chin even after he had tried to brush them all clean. “Make love to me, Namjoon,” you whisper to him. “Make me feel alive again. You’re the only one who can make me feel.”
There is a hint of relief and a glint of hope in his eyes when he hears your words. With a smile on his face, he turns to kiss your palm, pressing his mouth on one side before turning to do the same to the other. His gentle hands come up, catching your wrists as he begins kissing down on them, then he brings your hands down to rest them above your heads, pressing them down to the pillows before he lowers himself on top of you and quickly catches your mouth in his once again.
“I’ve waited for this moment for a long time, Baby Doll. I’ve missed you so much,” he whispers against your lips, drawing your tears out when you realise that you have been feeling the exact same way.
One of his hands comes down, before you can feel the tip of his cock rubbing against your slit. He takes a moment to coat his shaft with your arousal, moving it up and down and then around your clit, making your legs tremble around him, until you feel the fat tip of his cock pressing and nudging at your entrance.
With his mouth pressing down on yours, he swallows the soft cries you are making as he sinks into you, groaning deeply as he feels your wet heat engulfing him, wrapping around his girth. He waits for a moment, only until he can feel the intense pulsing of your walls around him slowly wane down, until your body relaxes beneath him, until his own heartbeat steadies and he no longer has to worry about coming too soon to the pleasure of being buried inside you again after so long.
You throw your head back against the pillows as he begins to move, gently and slowly at first, his deep groans turning into whimpers as he relishes the wonderful feeling of his cock brushing against your walls. He thrusts, and thrusts, moving in and out with a steady pace, and you reach out to him just as he finally releases you so he can hold your hips up to him, your hands clinging onto him, urging him on as your need continues to boil hotter from the depth of your core. The sweet and soft sounds you are making soon becomes the encouragement that he needs, along with the way your nails are beginning to clutch and bury themselves into his skin. He leans forward, kissing you again as your hips begin to rock against each other. The old bed creaks beneath you, but nothing can stop either one of you from rolling your hips, chasing and drowning yourself in the pleasure of his lovemaking, pushing up when he presses down, slowly increasing the pace as the need to chase for climax begins to grow stronger on both of you.
Namjoon continues pounding and thrusting his cock rapidly into your heat while you reciprocate by moving your hips, lifting yourself up to meet each of his thrusts. The emotions piling up from the past few days that you have spent with him are all coming to a head, leaving you both clinging desperately to each other as you try to ease the tension that are still carried by both your bodies and your broken hearts. With a deep groan, Namjoon raises his hands, gripping the wooden headrest right above your head as he keeps on bringing you over to the edge of your bliss, picking up his pace as he puts more force into his thrusts, sending you both jostling on top of the bed. And yet his cock keeps hitting you deep to a point that you are feeling the mix of pain and pleasure meshed together in one delightful bliss.
Soon enough, the waves of your orgasm begin to build up once more, coming to you stronger and faster without giving you a chance to hold back. Your breath begins to come out shorter, the cries of pleasure keeps getting caught in your throat at the force of his pounding, before it comes out higher when the pain slowly descends, leaving nothing but pleasure in its place.
“I love you,” he rasps between his thrusts, wanting you to hear it. And you can see his need to let you know this when he never once looks away as he buries himself deep inside you. “I’ve always loved you and I still do. I never stopped, damn it.”
Your gaze turns up and finds his, only to grow blurry and hazy at the mix of your tears and the rising bliss just as you scream out, “I love you too, Namjoon. Always have.”
And always will.
At the exchange of your words, something within you snaps, and with one single thrust, he pushes you over to the edge, sending you tumbling over to the peak of your pleasure with a loud cry of his name. Your climax comes through you in an intense wave, vibrating from deep inside you and wrapping tightly around him to send him to his own release. A deep groan continues to rumble from his chest as he keeps on thrusting, the movement of his cock turns rapid and messy and filled with the desperate need to reach his end before you feel him swelling, tightening inside you, then he pushes forward and going so deep one last time as he releases himself inside you, filling you up with his cum.
The moment everything stops, Namjoon drops down beside you and pulls you to his chest. He continues to hold you tight between his strong arms, letting you feel his heartbeat without minding the thin veil of sweat building between you. As the remaining spasms of your release begin to wind down, your eyes slowly flutter to close, relishing on the mixture of emotions and the feelings running through your body—the warmth of his embrace, the wet heat coming from his release that is still dripping out of your pulsing core, and the feeling of love fluttering inside your heart.
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Your whole body feels incredibly relaxed, while at the same time, completely sore, by the time dawn comes peeking through the window. And yet, you find there is no need to complain about it when your body is also humming with pure pleasure as you open your eyes and stretch your limbs out beside him.
For the rest of the night after your rigorous lovemaking, Namjoon has shown you just how insatiable he could be when he is with you.
For hours, he had taken you in every position possible for a man to take you. With you on top, riding him while facing him and then facing the other way. With him on top of you, taking you hard and gentle and then with a lazy roll of his hips until you were sent into a slow rising bliss. With you in all fours, as he took you from behind, not even caring how the bed kept making loud noises as it kept on banging against the wall with how hard he was pounding his cock into you until your whole body was trembling with your intense climax. You have lost count on how many times he had made you cum, as he simply kept on going, only giving you a short amount of time for breaks each time before taking you again, as if he was making up for lost time the best he could, showing you what three years of exercising and working out while working hard labour had done to his body and stamina.
As if he had been doing it to prepare for this moment, just to please you like nobody could.
“I did some thinking. You know, after our fight 3 years ago,” he murmurs softly after kissing the top of your head. You have your head resting on his shoulder, while he has his arm around your shoulders, his fingers running up and down your arm absentmindedly to enjoy the silence that had fallen between you. “I knew you were right all along, but I guess I was too stubborn to see it then. Then I went to your graduation, watching you from far away since I had too much pride to join my Mom to sit with your family then. But I was still there to see you taking that step onto the life that you had always wanted, and that was when it truly hit me.”
You instantly look up at his face as you listen to him. It surprises you to hear that he had been there for your graduation, when you had spent the entire night after the ceremony crying over his absence. But you say nothing about this, only staying silent as you continue to listen.
“It took me a long time, but I also realised that just because we lost—” he chokes out as he always does whenever he talks about this, so you rub your hand gently over his chest, soothing him so that he could go on. “It didn’t mean that I—that we had lost a chance to still build our family.”
Sighing, you are filled with both relief and despair to know that it has taken him so long to get to this point. To realise all of this. But you are also glad that he is finally there. “That was what I kept trying to tell you,” you murmur to him while trying your best to keep your tears at bay. “But I had to understand. Our reason to believe that we could be a family at all was because of—of him, our little peanut,” you chuckle softly at the short memory of being a young mother. “So it was hard for both of us to look past that and to see us having a life without him with us. At one point, I couldn’t see it. But all I ever wanted was for us to heal together.”
Namjoon closes his eyes briefly and sighs. And then you can see the regret in his eyes when he looks at you again. “I just didn’t want to hold you back. When I finally realised that I could no longer put my life on hold, I also knew that the only way for me to change things up was to start from the beginning rather than for me to chase your shadow. I reapplied for college once I got back home, finished early, started working with my Dad to learn the ropes, and did everything I could to build everything from the ground up, both literally and figuratively, starting with my own life first, stopping it from crumbling to the ground before I started doing the same to the old buildings in town.”
You push yourself up. “Why didn’t I know any of this?”
Namjoon doesn’t answer you right away, but chooses to bring up your question instead. “You asked me why I kept sending the papers back.”
Hesitantly, you nod your head.
“I wanted to win you back,” he says, his smile never leaving his face. “But first, I wanted to become someone who you can rely on, and I knew I had to prove to myself, to you, to everyone, that I can be someone that you can depend on when the only thing people saw from me was how much I had failed you.”
With a sigh, he lets his head fall back. His eyes looking up to the ceiling but his gaze seems further away as he looks back to the past. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes, and I still blame myself for what happened with—” Again, he chokes, but the pain is no longer there when he looks at you. “But I blame myself more for being stuck inside my head while I was grieving that I completely neglected you, completely disregarded my part as your husband, and as the man who vowed to take care of you.”
He lifts his hand, brushing your hair and tucking it behind your ear gently. “I’m sorry it took me a long time to realise it. I should’ve fought harder. I should’ve done it sooner,” he says, keeping his eyes on yours. “I should’ve been there for you and fought my way back up together with you.”
“You could’ve told me. I would have—” you try to speak, “I wouldn’t have—”
Namjoon stops you by pressing a light peck on the tip of your nose. “It doesn’t matter now anyway, right?”
And then it dawns on you, just as you are reminded of how your Mom had sat you down on that first night you arrived, before everyone came by to join dinner, when she asked you gently to have a proper conversation with Namjoon before deciding to do anything. When she asked you to listen to him. “My parents knew about this.”
Namjoon slowly nods. “They had always been the ones to give me their full support. And Bernie wasn’t lying when he said they all helped. Bernie and your uncle, specifically, have been great partners in expanding my construction business.”
It sure takes a lot to take in. There have been so many changes happening while you were gone, so many things that you have missed. Perhaps you were wrong after all when you had thought that life would simply stop in this place, that it would be impossible for you to expand your life in such a small town where there were so many barriers, so many limitations, and not enough room to grow.
But when you had managed to prove to everyone and the world that it was possible for you to have big dreams and to reach for them by leaving, Namjoon had shown that it was possible to have them all by staying.
“I signed the papers,” he murmurs softly, reminding you about the predicament that you have found yourself in. You close your eyes as your heart pinches under the memory of waking up to find those damn papers.
“I saw.” You open your eyes to look at him and sigh. “I haven’t put down my signature yet.”
“Why?” he asks, and then his vulnerability shines bright in his eyes. “Are you going to sign it?”
“I don’t know anymore,” you find yourself answering him, before the pain in your chest increases and you simply drop down on top of his chest to hold him tight. “I won’t. No, never. I’m going to burn those papers once the sun comes up.” Namjoon’s chest rumbles with a chuckle, though you can still feel him sighing with relief when he presses his mouth on your temple. “I ended it. The engagement,” you whisper to him while keeping your face pressed to his bare chest, afraid of what you might find when you look at him.
Namjoon says nothing at first before you feel him nodding. “I know,” he whispers as he buries his nose into your hair, breathing you in before he sighs in relief.
You raise your head to look up. “What? How?”
He hums softly. “I just—I can tell. And I overheard a little bit of your argument while you were on the video call earlier. I was standing right outside the bedroom,” he admits to you sheepishly. “I’m so sorry.”
“No, you’re not,” you say to him after reading the expression on his face, finding more relief and pride present there instead of remorse. “You’re definitely not sorry.”
A slow smile grows on his face as he dips his head, capturing your lips in his with a whisper, “No. No, I’m not.”
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There was a saying that you read a long time ago. One that said how time flies over everyone, but leaves its shadow behind.
Months have passed since you were reunited with Namjoon. Ever since the holiday week that you spent with him where you were given the chance to revisit your past and to have another look at the life that you had at that moment to find what you had been missing.
The summer breeze comes flowing through, making your dress dance around you as you slowly walk down the path between the guests, surrounded by the familiar faces of your family and friends who have arrived to become a part of this moment.
You make a quick glance over to the seats, your eyes meeting Winny’s, finding her beaming with a smile as she watches you with pride in her eyes. The trip in the winter had done a lot to help her recover, and she had become one of the first people around you to support this day to happen. Everything else had simply fallen in place since—the bar had been expanded to have its own bed and breakfast, Namjoon’s business has risen even faster than what he had ever predicted, as the Mayor’s testimony of his work had spread so fast to the neighbouring town that he had gained even more work, saved even more buildings, and there is nothing stopping him now from blossoming.
And then there is you.
It is certainly funny how life works, how it had chosen to send you into different paths and different kinds of adventures before it finally leads you towards your fairy tale ending.
When you came back home all those months ago, you had thought that you would return to the big city with closure, with a chance to move on with a fairy tale ending. Never once you had ever thought that you would find yourself instead.
Instead of closure, you had found a new beginning, a second chance, and to finally open your eyes to realise that you had already found your fairy tale ending, and you never had to look far to see it. And now you are here, walking towards the happy ending that you had dreamed of for a long time, in the magical moment that you had pictured in your head ever since you were a little girl—a white wedding at the top of the cliff, overlooking the town and the canyons below, with you wearing an ivory dress that sparkles beautifully under the bright sun above.
You look ahead, meeting Namjoon’s gaze as he waited for you at the end of the path, standing not too far away from the edge of the cliff that serves as your final stage. Right beside him is the Mayor, acting as the officiant for this ceremony, a surprise gift that he had offered after finding out about your plans for renewing your marriage vows with Namjoon. The fact that he had offered his service only months after you had officially become his legal advisor was almost too good to be true, but the man had claimed that he owed so much to Namjoon, and then now to you, to take the pleasure of becoming a part of this moment.
You look at Namjoon and smile at him. There are tears in his eyes when you finally reach him. His hands are trembling when he takes yours in his, but the moment your hands touch each other, the only thing you both feel is a wave of calmness, as the bond between you takes over to eliminate all the nerves.
You barely pay attention as the Mayor reads out the written vows that you had prepared for each other, only until the moment he gives you the final question, of promising a forever with Namjoon, both in happiness and in sorrow, in sickness and in health, and nothing can ever set you apart.
You raise your head, looking straight into the eyes of the man who had always been there as a part of your journey, whether or not he was constantly present in every page of your tale. Your husband. Your Prince Charming.
And as you look out beyond the cliff, into the sight of nothingness that also offers you a wide-open space with a thousand of possibilities for your future, you feel as if you are free falling into your new beginning, and you simply take it, knowing full well that he would be there to catch your fall.
“I do.”
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Extra: honourable mention - BM (Matthew) from Kard
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❥ Author’s note 2.0 | Thank you for reading!
❥ Taglist | @hearteuforjoonie — @blue1928 — @jeonmisha — @smitssharon02 — @mini-coop25​ — @sumzysworld — @namjooningelsewhere — @nyamnomnamujoon — @rrrrap-monster — @moonchild1 — @onlythehobi — @secretlypg95 — @girlsforgloss — @kpopstudybee — @mynameis-kim​
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suga-kookiemonster · 8 months ago
let it snow | kth
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part of the once upon a holiday collab with @underthejoon​ @fantasybangtan​ @kpopfanfictrash​ @lamourche​ @hobidreams​ and @junghelioseok​!
summary⇢ it all started by accident, but it continues by choice—even before you began sleeping together, things with your friend taehyung have always been comfortable and easy. simple, and this new arrangement between you is certainly no exception to that rule. well...that's definitely what you thought before a major snowstorm traps the two of you in his apartment over the holidays. now? now, it is quickly becoming apparent that things are a bit more complicated than you realized. pairing⇢ taehyung/reader word count⇢ 18.8k 😩🤦🏽‍♀️  rating⇢ 18+ genre⇢ smut | fluff | fwb!au | snowed in!au warnings⇢ sexual content, oral (m+f receiving), unprotected sex, fingering, a decent amount of netflix and chilling because they’re stuck in the house and horny, a lot of domesticity because mmm, that’s that good stuff 😌, angst, pininggggg
a/n⇢ it’s finally here!! 🙌🏾 i really procrastinated and let it fester until i was forced to churn 19k out in a couple weeks, huh ☠️☠️ classic me lmao. here’s to better planning in the new year! 🤣mood for this fic is this. hope you enjoy! 😊
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“Didn’t you wear that sweater last year?” Seokjin asks, though he already knows the answer. Really, the only reason he’s asking you is to give himself room to segue into the topic of your perceived lack of holiday cheer. 
“Yup! And I’m gonna wear it next year, too,” you reply breezily, forever unbothered by the judgmental scrunch of his nose. You gesture down the length of your chest, where a woven Christmas tree with real flashing Christmas lights proudly sits beneath the words Get Lit.  “This fucker cost sixty-nine ninety-five and I plan on getting my money’s worth.”
“How do you think you’re ever going to win our annual ugly sweater contest if you just keep recycling the same one?” Jin points out as he puts his final touches on a rather beautiful charcuterie board. As the member of your friend group who thrives off of playing the gracious host, he would usually also be dumping cheap vodka down someone’s throat. But due to your various schedules, your friend group has been forced to have your annual get-together a bit too late for those kind of shenanigans this year. Road trips and train rides and being squished on airplanes can already be a bit of a headache, but adding navigating the holiday rush with a raging hangover? Yeah…everyone is smartly playing it safe tonight. So wine and cheese it is—though that doesn’t bother you one bit. If it were socially acceptable and wouldn’t give you scurvy, you would live off that shit. 
Seokjin’s own sweater this year is delightfully horrendous, a printed on mockery of a suit and bowtie. The visually-jarring combination of olive green and a murky red—all against a repulsive santa hat print—definitely makes him a solid contender for this year’s winner.
Still, that makes you no less satisfied with your own choice of attire. “You really think I’m gonna buy a new one every year when I only wear them once?” you ask incredulously, successfully swiping a grape before he can swat your hand away. “Hey, at least I bothered to change the batteries in this thing! That’s a lot of effort for a sweater.”
“You’re no fun,” he pouts, lifting the tray to take to the others. 
You easily trail after him into the living room, sipping on the mulled wine he had poured for you before you had even slipped your shoes off. God, you loved when Seokjin hosted parties. “You weren’t saying that that time I drank Yoongi under the table.”
“That’s not hard to do. Yoongi has two good drinks and goes to bed.”
“Two drinks of hard liquor, so that’s irrelevant! I still drank more. And you’re conveniently forgetting that it was some sort of fancy scotch and it was icky, so I should be awarded bonus fun points.”
Yoongi himself, casually splayed across the sofa, looks up at the sound his name, but remains entirely nonplussed. His sweater has a big picture of that one internet cat making a face at vegetables that is always getting yelled at in memes by one of those rich white reality tv housewives. The hilarity of it almost makes you regret your choice not to get a new sweater this year. Almost. “You may have drank more,” he drawls, “but I seem to recall you being the one under the table at the end of the night.”
You internally wince at the memory—or, to be more accurate, the lack of—as you promptly make yourself comfortable between him and Taehyung, who is snickering at you. Tae had been the one to pull you from under said table, to take you home. “My point still stands.”
“That’s because you were pretty wasted before the scotch,” Jimin pipes up.
“Most people with common sense have to be wasted to drink scotch,” you quip, grinning pointedly at Yoongi. As expected, he doesn’t take the bait—simply gives you a flat stare and takes a sip from his own wine mug. It takes a lot to rile up your dark-haired friend, and so you often amuse yourself by teasing him to see if you can. 
Jimin laughs. He’s curled up in an opposite armchair, his girlfriend Nia seated comfortably on his lap. Normally, you would find this blatant sort of PDA annoying, but these two are adorable, so you let it slide, simply happy that your friend has found someone who makes him happy. Nia has been a bizarrely seamless addition to your little group—enough so that Jimin felt comfortable including her in your holiday tradition of exchanging gifts. So unless they start to get handsy, you refuse to make a big deal out of it and be as big of a Scrooge as Seokjin claims you are.
You feel Taehyung shift, and when you turn, he is already looking at you, amusement dancing across his features. “Nice sweater,” he says. 
“Thanks. I put a lot of thought into it.” You bite the inside of your lip to dampen your own smile. “Yours is pretty snazzy yourself.”
The sweater in question is printed with a complicated Where’s Waldo illustration, and you can’t help but run a finger across the material of his arm in search of the striped character.
“Cold,” Tae says, and when you respond by trailing your finger over to his chest, where a suspiciously-large group of santas are congregated, you feel his body tense a bit in response. “Warmer.”
“Check his nipples,” Hoseok yells from across the room. You roll your eyes good-naturedly, ignoring the way Jimin bursts into laughter at the suggestion. Taehyung flicks an eyebrow in challenge.
“Or the armpit,” Namjoon offers helpfully. “If I were hiding on a sweater, I’d pick an armpit.”
“Hmmm, that’s a fair point. Up!” you command, and Taehyung laughs and lifts his arms without complaint, allowing you to properly inspect his armpits for the elusive character. When it becomes clear that you aren’t going to find what you’re looking for there, you take another sip of your wine and dutifully turn your attention back to his chest, intending to search in earnest. 
But before you can, the speakers next to the couch spring to life, startling you a bit. Despite your initial confusion, you slowly start to recognize the familiar tune of Frosty the Snowman, jumbled over an EDM beat. It’s loud and extra and toeing the edge annoying, and your head immediately snaps to Jungkook, who declared himself the DJ of the party years ago and has stubbornly refused to give up the position ever since. He grins at you, clear mischief in his eyes, and you know then that he’s only playing the abomination to annoy the living shit out of everyone.
Though Seokjin’s busy being a good host and passing out cups of spiked eggnog, you can see how well Jungkook’s plan is working by the flush spreading up his neck. “I thought I told you to play Mariah,” he huffs over the racket as he hands Nia hers.
Jungkook looks nonchalantly at his phone, where he’s projecting his supposedly carefully curated playlist via bluetooth. “She’s on here.”
“What about Dean Martin?” Taehyung asks. “You know, the classics? Or literally anything else.”
You snort. Taehyung’s music taste has been known to sometimes overlap with Jungkook’s, so for him to be so visibly disgusted, you know it’s bad. “What about that one chipmunk song?” you suggest.
Jungkook winks at you, shoots you some finger guns. “Already got you, boo.”
“Oh god,” you groan, glaring at Yoongi when he starts snickering at you. “I was totally kidding.”
“Well, I wasn’t!” Jungkook says cheerfully. He has to yell a little bit to be heard over the booming bass. “When it comes to Christmas bops, I never kid.”
 You groan louder. “Jungkookie. Please!”
“I don’t know—I kinda like it,” Alexa pipes up, and you have to put forth actual effort to stop your eyes from rolling to the back of your head. Alexa is Hoseok’s newest fling, and while Nia slots into your group dynamic easily, Alexa, in your opinion, is a bit of an airhead. She’s pretty, but you would bet actual money that she’s the type to think Chicken of the Sea is chicken—and you’re pretty sure she’s not even filming for a reality show, so she truly has no excuse. But that seems to be Hobi’s type—someone who is easy on the eyes and won’t try to force him to commit. To be honest, you’re pretty surprised that she’s lasted long enough to make it to your friend group’s borderline-sacred holiday get-together, but you’re even more surprised that Hobi actually bothered to bring her.
“Thank you, Alexa,” Jungkook says pointedly, and frankly he probably has a better chance at annoying Yoongi tonight than you do. “You have great taste.”
You must be making some sort of face, because Namjoon takes one look at you and sucks his lips into a straight line, just like he always does when he’s trying not to laugh inappropriately at something. 
“At least turn it down a little,” Seokjin sighs. “You already made my neighbors file a noise complaint on me on Halloween. I’m not trying to get another one.”
“Hey, you were the one screaming on Halloween, not me.”
“Because we were watching a movie about demons! You told me we were gonna watch Air Bud!”
“To be fair,” Taehyung pipes up, “nobody watches that on Halloween. So you walked into that one.”
“You know that’s my favorite movie,” Jin protests loudly. “And for the record, Hobi screamed louder than me!”
Hoseok just shrugs. “I don’t handle the supernatural well. Especially when the supernatural are little kids. Give me old lady ghosts any day.” 
Seokjin and Jungkook keep bickering, but that honestly is just a testament to how close they are. In fact, your whole little group is rather close, and it’s actually bizarre to think about how these are your closest friends, because when you stop to consider it, you’re all here, in Seokjin’s living room sipping on delightfully festive cocktails, by pure chance. 
Your sophomore year of college, Yoongi, your roommate’s boyfriend, was often over your apartment. The two of you became friendly, and when they ended up breaking up, he never broke up with you. (You’ve never felt particularly bad about that, because your roommate was more of an acquaintance than anything else. You lost touch with her once the lease was up, anyway.) Namjoon and Hoseok were in the same music theory class as Yoongi, and the three of them have made music together ever since. Seokjin used to be Namjoon’s favorite bartender at his favorite bar. Jimin frequented the same dance class as Hoseok. Taehyung is Jimin’s best friend from childhood. Tae befriended Jungkook over some online game he was obsessed with at the time, and when they realized they lived in the same general area, he made the—in your opinion—stupid decision to meet up with him. (It all turned out for the best, of course. Because that’s the kind of luck Taehyung has—he draws people to him without trying, his good energy attracting only more good energy.) 
And that’s exactly how you would describe this friend group the universe allowed you to stumble into—good energy. Good vibes. Well, that was certainly how you would describe it when Jungkook wasn’t blasting a screamo version of Silent Night. Which he was. Right. Now.
“Hey,” Namjoon yells over the ruckus, leaning closer to Tae to be heard better. “Where’s Jisoo? Did she not want to come?”
One breath, two. Something in the universe shifts, just slightly.
“Jisoo?” you repeat. Your brain shuffles through any logical possibilities before confusedly settling on the pretty girl Hobi had set Taehyung up with months and months ago. The pretty girl he had gone on a single date with and then never mentioned to you again.
“She flew home last week.” Tae looks uncomfortable. Your stomach twists. “And hyung, I told you it’s not like that.”
One date and he had never mentioned her again, so you had reasonably assumed that had been the end of it. But clearly, from the way Namjoon’s brows furrow in confusion, from the way Taehyung so carefully does not look at you, this is not the case. Clearly, he just never mentioned her to you.
There is an awkward silence in your corner of the room, because it’s blatantly obvious that you’ve been left in the dark on this and now, by accident, you’re suddenly not. 
Sensing the weird energy, Namjoon reaches for a cookie shaped like a candy cane and stuffs it in his mouth, quiet. 
You can feel Yoongi’s eyes boring through your skin, but you ignore him, refusing to look in his direction. You smile instead, though it feels off around the edges. You hope it doesn’t look that way too. “Huh. Congrats. I didn’t realize you were still seeing her—you never mentioned it.”
Taehyung rubs the back of his neck. “It’s not really serious.”
“Three months is serious enough,” you reply airily. Three months since Hoseok set them up. Four since— You look away, finishing the last dregs of your wine. “Sorry she couldn’t make it.”
Tae’s lips part, but whatever he has to say never comes to fruition. Seokjin claps his hands and yells for Jungkook to turn the music down so you can get the festivities started.
Clearing your throat, you use the distraction to stand up and make your way back into the kitchen, where the mulled wine is still being warmed by a crockpot. You have a flight to catch in the morning, but you figure one more glass can’t hurt.
When you come back, you find that Jungkook has taken your spot, and you also find that you’re perfectly fine with that. You sit in the chair next to Jimin and Nia instead, keeping your gaze solidly on Seokjin as he starts reminding everyone of the rules for your ugly sweater contest—something your little group takes rather seriously. Point categories include ugliness, creativity, hilarity, and raunchiness, with bonus points to be given for any good puns.
One by one, you each stand so your choice of attire can be properly judged. You miss, you drink declares Hoseok’s sweater, the mini tennis balls stuck to the giant velcro target in the center a clear invitation for someone to give the game a go. Namjoon’s sweater has a visibly judgmental santa between the words I Saw That, You Nasty. Jungkook’s has Santa enthusiastically riding a shark like a horse. Jimin’s is modeled after a Christmas tree, actual green tinsel elegantly latticed throughout and supplemented with a number of small, strategically-placed Christmas ornaments. Nia’s is clearly homemade, and clearly an eyesore, tinsel and felt letters stapled to the fabric. Feel the Joy, it says, a pair of gloves strategically-pinned over her breasts.
All excellent, excellent contenders. Your friends all start to argue, everyone making their case for who should be crowned this year’s winner. And, normally, you would be right in the thick of it. But instead, tonight you just sip your wine, subdued.
“I like this one,” Alexa pipes up, pointing at Jimin. “It’s cute.”
“It’s not supposed to be cute. It’s supposed to be ugly!” Seokjin insists, an edge of annoyance in his tone. And you don’t blame him—Alexa didn’t even bother to wear her own sweater because it was ugly. Why is she allowed to vote anyway? Why is she even here?
“Tinsel is ugly,” Jimin whines.
Yoongi shakes his head with a scoff. “Yours isn’t. It’s delightful.”
“Why is no one taking into consideration that my sweater has a shark on it,” Jungkook cuts in. 
Distracted, you pitch in your opinion when prompted and laugh when it seems you should. In the end, after much bickering and multiple rounds of voting, Nia is declared the winner. She lifts her eggnog in victory and Jimin grins wide, as proud of her accomplishment as if it were his own. (Namjoon had argued that her sweater was more horny than ugly, but Seokjin had to begrudgingly admit that it was both.) 
Hoseok, never a sore loser, starts hooting in support, which only sets off Jungkook, and then, like dominoes, everyone else. You cheer too, laughing. Despite everything, so happy to be here, in this room, with people who entered your life by chance and stayed by choice. You’re filled with such affection that you can’t help but grin when Jungkook promptly plays The Chipmunk Song, just for you.
“I’ll be right back,” you tell no one in particular, still laughing, still warm inside. The wine has you a bit buzzed, but mostly you just feel like your bladder is about to tap out on you, so you make your way to the restroom before it does. 
Through the kitchen, down the hall, on the left. You’ve been to Seokjin’s place often enough that your feet take the right path without much thought, your mind blessedly not settling on anything in particular as you do your business and wash your hands. Reentering the hallway has you blinking away the lingering imprint of florescent lights as your eyes adjust to the shadows. You jump a little when one of them moves unexpectedly.
“Sorry.” It’s Taehyung. You can see him a bit better now, can see the tall shape of him, the broadness of his shoulders, the muddled pattern of his sweater when he moves a little closer to you. Can make out the line of his jaw, the set of his gaze.
“No problem,” you say, stepping to the side a bit so you both have room to pass each other. You move to leave, but right as your arms brush, he speaks again. 
“It’s really not like that,” he murmurs.
You pause. Don’t turn, just stare at the carpet and focus on keeping your feelings in. On not reacting. Because he would tell you, right? He promised he would tell you.
He promised—but he has been keeping this from you.
“…Okay,” you say carefully, still not looking up. He said it isn’t serious. If it isn’t serious, it’s truly none of your business. It doesn’t matter. You swallow. You don’t look up.
There is a long pause, the charged silence cut by the cheerful music coming from the other room. Taehyung still hasn’t moved. Presumably, he’s in this hallway with you because he needed to pee, but he doesn’t continue towards the bathroom, his feet solidly planted in the carpet. In your peripheral vision, you can see him turn towards you, see his mouth open and close a few times. You don’t need to see anymore.
You leave him there, one quick step in front of the other, and head back to the others.
Yoongi looks up at you when you reenter, but you simply shoot him a quick smile and return to your seat next to Jimin and Nia. She’s still perched on his lap, but at some point since you left, Jimin has decided to slip his hands into the gloves attached to her chest. You shake your head, mind still too preoccupied with what just happened in the hallway to properly call him out on it.
The music changes, a sultry man crooning about how he wants to be your Santa Claus, and Namjoon’s head whips around. “Is that Keith Sweat?” he asks incredulously.
“Damn right, it is,” Jungkook grins, visibly pleased with himself.
Joon and Yoongi pull matching baffled faces at each other, Yoongi muttering about how he hadn’t realized Keith Sweat had even released a Christmas album. 
Hoseok has only had a little eggnog, but his face is red anyway as he leans against the back of your chair. “Hey, is it time for gifts yet?”
The mentioning of tonight’s main event has Seokjin perking up. “It can be. We just have to wait for—oh never mind, there he is. Taehyung, it’s time for gifts!”
Tae smiles in response, reclaiming his spot on the couch next to Jungkook. His gaze drifts in your direction, but you look away before you can lock eyes.
Jimin, who is closest to the gift table, promptly displaces his girlfriend and gets up to start handing out assigned gifts. They’re all of varying sizes—while Taehyung’s is a mere envelope, Yoongi’s is large enough to fit a small appliance. Vaguely, you wonder if someone was being funny with the packaging (boxes in boxes), or if he was actually gifted a deep fryer.
One by one, you each unwrap your gifts, excitedly revealing who was whose secret santa. Hoseok gets you, and you’re pleasantly surprised to see that he remembered the exact brand of specialty chocolates you’ve been dying to try. Jin and Yoongi get each other, and to the delight of everyone in the room, it turns out they gifted each other matching tackle boxes.
“I only bought it because I noticed you looking at it,” Yoongi sighs, pouting at how everyone’s laughing.
Seokjin lets out a huff. “Yah! I was only looking at it because I saw you looking at it!”
But for all their grumbling, from what you can tell, they’re both happy with their gifts, and will likely get a lot of use out of them together.
“What’s that?” you hear Jungkook ask curiously, and when you turn in his direction, he’s leaning over Tae, trying to make sense of the piece of paper he’d pulled out of a generic Christmas card. You swallow.
Taehyung’s eyebrows are furrowed, his lips twitching into a confused smile as he holds the paper up for the room to see. It’s a printout of an advertisement from a nearby art gallery. 
“Tickets to Kim Jungwoo’s newest exhibition,” you clarify, clearing your throat when your voice comes out more stunted than you would like. “Just let me know when you want to go and I can get them for you.”
“Oh, come onnnn,” Jungkook complains with a pout. “We had a thirty dollar limit.”
“Maybe next time you shouldn’t buy your gift from the convenience store,” Jimin says, pointedly looking down at the box full of ramen he was gifted.
“Do you or do you not like spicy chicken.”
“…I do.”
“That’s what I thought. Merry Christmas.”
“Don’t worry—my cousin works at that gallery,” you explain, “so I was able to get a discount. I know you like that artist, so when I saw their new exhibition was coming near us, I just figured maybe you would like it…” 
You meet Taehyung’s eyes, and they’re so dark and expressive that you have the intense urge to look away immediately. But then he smiles, wide and bright, and now you can’t stop looking. “Holy shit, I didn’t even realize he was coming here—how did you even know I love his work?”
You tamp down a pleased smile, shrug good-naturedly. “It’s a Christmas miracle.”
“Thank you,” he says, and you can hear how much he means it. Can see it in the excitement in his eyes, in the soft way he’s looking at you. It warms you from the inside out, satisfaction and affection trickling through your veins and spreading slowly, slowly. But steadily.
“Of course,” you reply, and you’re smiling too. You can’t help it.
And then the moment is broken by the first verse of what is apparently a My Neck, My Back x Jingle Bells mashup blasting through the speakers. You all pause, disbelieving of what you’re hearing, and then Nia immediately starts cackling, almost falling out of her chair at the ridiculousness of the situation. Yoongi rubs his temples like a migraine is coming on. 
“Really, Jungkook?” Seokjin groans loudly.
Jungkook starts cackling too. “Feliz Navidad, mis amigos!”
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The night ends earlier than you all would like—usually, there would be at least a few more hours of chilling and drinking and shenanigans. But alas, you have a flight to catch tomorrow and you’re not the only one, so you’re all begrudgingly shuffling into the night air a little before midnight. You all thank Seokjin for his hospitality and hug each other goodbye, promising to see each other again around New Year’s, before going your separate ways. 
As per usual when leaving Seokjin’s, Jimin and Taehyung walk with you—you all live in the same direction, so you have to take the same train. Nia is tipsy, her laugh loud and her arm around Jimin’s midsection. Jimin eats up the attention, an arm slung over her shoulders bringing her body flush against his.
They’re cute, you think for the umpteenth time that night, watching them from behind, their silhouettes periodically illuminated by the street lamps you pass.
The sidewalks are narrow, so Taehyung quietly walks next to you, hands in the pockets of his coat. The silence between you is strange—it’s awkward, but it’s not. It’s loaded with something, but it means nothing at all. In any case, you feel no inclination to break it, so you don’t, distractedly pulling your hat further down your head in an effort to ward off the windchill. 
The train is bizarrely full at this time at night, likely the result of more and more people being out and about, getting their shopping done and enjoying the holiday season. The four of you have to stand, though this doesn’t bother you much, as you don’t have that many stops to wait. Besides, passengers tend to get off with Jimin anyway—by the time it’s your stop, you often have most of the train car to yourself. 
It doesn’t take long to arrive at Jimin’s stop, and he and Nia both hug you goodbye and wish you a safe trip before leaving you and Tae alone. As you expected, the car has cleared up a bit—enough for a seat near you to become available, at least. Taehyung gestures, and you wordlessly take it, him grasping the bar above your head.
Another two stops, and the older man sitting next to you gets off. Taehyung easily slots himself into the vacated seat. He’s tall, with rather broad shoulders and long limbs, and you’ve always known this, but there’s a difference between knowing and feeling him as he folds into the compact space. His shoulder rests flush against yours; his knee bumps yours a bit every time the train takes a sharp turn on the rails.
A couple more stops and he’ll get off before you. A couple more stops, and you’ll be able to breathe and keep pretending.
You stare outside the window, simply to have somewhere to look. But despite the picturesque view of the city rushing by, you can’t help but focus on something else.
Taehyung, meeting your eyes in the reflection.
Carefully, you turn back in his direction, and yes, he’s looking right back, eyes dark in the fluorescent lighting.
“Do you want to come over?” he murmurs, deep voice somehow deeper in his effort to keep his voice down. The offer makes the slumbering beast within you stir. Your breath quickens. Your lips part.
“I have to catch a flight in the morning.” Not an acceptance, not a refusal. Simply the truth.
“I can take you to the airport.”
You already know what you want to say. Already know, even as you bite your tongue and try to think about this logically. You’re already all packed, suitcase ready and waiting next to your front door for you to simply grab it and leave. You hate packing and tend to leave it until the last second, but you also knew you were unlikely to want to do so when you came home late at night, or even the next morning, so you made sure to get it all done before you left for Seokjin’s earlier today. Taehyung will have to take you back to your place to pick it up, but it’s kind of hard to point this fact out when you suddenly notice his hand on your knee, the warmth slowly permeating your jeans and making it hard for you to think. 
“…Okay,” you breathe.
“Great,” he says, fingers light, light as they tease a little further up your leg, but ultimately return to dormancy before they can start anything in public. “What time’s your flight?”
You bite your lip. “Ten.”
He hums in acknowledgment, but doesn’t move his hand. 
You don’t move it either.
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The first time it happened, it was completely by accident.
It had been a long, stressful week at work, and after noticing your unusual silence in the groupchat, a simple check-in text from Taehyung turned into you bitching about your grueling ordeal—which easily turned into him sounding the alarm and calling an emergency meetup. 
Some of your friends had other plans, and you were quick to dismiss Tae’s deceptively frantic tone before anyone got too worried, insisting they not cancel anything for you. So it was Tae, Hoseok, and Namjoon who met you at a bar that night, one specialty cocktail easily turning into three as your best friends made sure your glass was always full. And then, since you were all in such a good mood, you kept the night going to another bar, where more alcohol and a live band had you dancing away any problems you could have had.
Hoseok finally decided he was ready to go home at 3am, and the rest of the group conceded. Which was for the best, really, because you were all stupid drunk and every bar in the city was going to close in an hour or so anyway. So you said goodbye for the night, stumbling towards your respective homes.
You and Tae briefly discussed the possibility of sharing an Uber, but neither of you really wanted to pay surge prices when you lived relatively close by. So to the train you went, your arm comfortably linked through his—partially because you couldn’t walk in a straight line, and partially because you tended to get rather…touchy the more intoxicated you got. Taehyung didn’t seem to mind, happy to let you use him for balance. Alcohol made his laughs loud and his face flushed, both particularly noticeable in the relative quiet of the night.
But no matter how drunk, Taehyung never lost his sense of chivalry. He walked on the side of the sidewalk closest to the street so you wouldn’t stumble into it (despite tripping into a couple parked cars himself), and when the two of you made it onto the nearly empty train car, he then insisted that you just come home with him, because his place was closer and he didn’t want you riding the last few stops by yourself so late at night.
You didn’t fight him, because crashing at his place wasn’t foreign to you, and now that there was no loud music keeping your attention, you were practically falling asleep where you sat. So to his apartment the two of you went.
Things become spotty after that. You remember being forced back to consciousness by your screaming bladder, and when you opened your eyes, still pretty drunk and trying to get a sense of your surroundings, you realized that you were on Tae’s bed, splayed on top of the covers like you had faceplanted onto them and not moved an inch since. You remember the confusion quickly turning into fascination when you looked over and saw Taehyung was laying next to you, knocked out.
This was new. Any other time, you would have had a minor argument over who would sleep on the couch (because you felt bad kicking him out of his own bed in his own home and he flat out insisted you take said bed). But your plastered selves had apparently been too tired for that, because this time, you both had passed out side by side.
You stumbled to the bathroom to relieve yourself, groaning at how the lights disturbed your retinas. When you came back, properly sliding under the covers this time, you saw that Taehyung had turned in his sleep, now facing you. And there, fueled by lingering whiskey sours, emboldened by the darkness, you did what you never allowed yourself to do otherwise—stare.
All of your friends are annoyingly good-looking, but there has always been something about Taehyung that has drawn your eyes. He is nothing short of beautiful, and that night you freely drank it up, entranced by his profile—illuminated by the scant light filtering through his blinds. Dark curls mussed on a pillowcase. Long eyelashes fanned across his cheekbones. Lips, plush with a prominent cupid’s bow, puckered almost in invitation.
And naturally, drunk you accepted said invitation.
You leaned forward, easily shrinking the small gap between you, and curiously pressed your lips into the fullness of his, freezing in shock when they responded with equal pressure. 
Pulling back confirmed that yes, Taehyung was awake, eyes dark and hazy as they looked back at you. For a few solid moments, you stared at each other, silent and unmoving. But it was him who broke the stillness next, face shifting closer and closer until your noses bumped. Until you shared one breath. Until your lips were parting so his tongue could slip inside.
Everything else is foggy, your memory stunted by drowsiness and alcohol, but your body still remembers. Still remembers the ghost of his mouth. Still remembers your heart pounding excitedly in your ears, still remembers the warm weight of him rolling on top of you. What your mind does remember, however, is waking up the next morning, head feeling like it was going to split in two, mouth feeling like cotton, and quickly realizing Taehyung had apparently fallen asleep with his hand down your pants.
Things were different without the moon as your accomplice. The sun wasn’t nearly as forgiving, and after carefully retracting all body parts to their respective owners, you both awkwardly shuffled around each other in the kitchen, you pouring water into glasses and Tae silently handing you the bottle of ibuprofen after taking a couple for himself.
You drained your whole glass before either of you bothered to speak. It was Tae who broke first.
“What if we just agree this never happened?” you offered, voice so croaky you had to clear your throat to continue. “I don’t even remember anyway.”
Taehyung paused, glass hovering near his mouth. “You don’t remember?”
You blinked, wondering if you should fess up to your partial lie. “Do you?”
The glass got set down, his eyes closing as he rubbed his temples with a hand. “Not really.”
Good. Great. This was a thing that had happened on accident and you both could move past it. “See? We both just had too much to drink. It doesn’t have to mean anything if we don’t let it. No one even has to know!”
“…Doesn’t have to mean anything,” he agreed with a final nod.
And that had been that.
Until the second time.
The second time happened a few weeks later, also by accident. But then again, if you thought about it, the second time was much more intentional than the first. That time, you were all at Jimin’s, because it was his turn to host your group’s monthly movie night. And Jimin never hosted movie night without homemade guacamole and bottomless margaritas. So while you weren’t blitzed like the last time, you were still pleasantly drunk. Enough to not immediately look away when you caught Taehyung staring at you when everyone else was too focused on the tv screen. Enough to slowly simmer under his persistent gaze throughout the night, to cross and recross your legs at the blatant desire in his expression. 
It’s about a fifteen walk from Jimin’s place to Tae’s, but that night, Taehyung casually got on the train with you instead. When the doors opened on his stop, he made no move to get off.
“This is you,” you said, fully aware that he was aware.
“It is,” he hummed agreeably. His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Should I get off?”
You bit your lip. You shook your head.
Silently, you both watched his stop come and go, and then when it was time for yours, you exited the train.
Alcohol had lowered your inhibitions, yes, but that second time? It couldn’t be used as an excuse the second time. You had been haunted by the ghost of his lips ever since you decided to abandon them weeks ago, and now, now, you were both fully aware of every choice you made. Fully aware when you slowly peeled off your clothes, shy yet eager. Fully aware when he cupped you over your underwear. When he slid your panties down your legs so he could feel you properly, so his long fingers could fuck stars behind your eyelids. Fully aware of the velvety weight of him, the slick, sticky glide as he rutted into your hand.
Of sound mind when making these decisions, but rapidly losing it the longer he whispered in your ear, the longer he sucked color into your skin. “Taehyung,” you groaned into his collarbone. “Condom.”
And so it was different. And it was good. So fucking good that you could hardly believe this wasn’t some sort of sex dream your unconscious mind had cooked up. Taehyung was big and you felt him deep in your guts and halfway up your throat as he fucked you. He made you moan, made you whine, made you beg, and that only seemed to egg him on as he pounded you into the mattress with enough force to make your teeth rattle and your eyes roll back into your head.
And when it was over, it was clear that there was no going back. No excuses to be made. You had both wanted it and had acted on what you wanted, and that was that.
The next morning found you both in the kitchen again, a charged silence in the air as you went about making beverages for the conversation that absolutely had to be had. Coffee for you. Apple cinnamon tea for Taehyung.
“So,” you hedged, sliding him a mug.
His smile was small and shy. “So.”
“We should probably talk about this.”
“Do you want to forget this too?”
“I…can’t,” you admitted, face heating in embarrassment. You didn’t know why you were embarrassed. The ache between your legs proved it was a little too late for that now.
Taehyung’s gaze turned to his mug, bobbing his teabag in the hot water again and again as he thought. “I couldn’t forget last time.”
That pulled a laugh from you. “I noticed,” you said, affection dripping from every word, and you wanted to suck the slip back in, to snatch it back before it reached his ears. But Taehyung just smiled bigger into his mug.
You sat across from him. “This is going to keep happening, isn’t it?”
He was quiet for a few moments, contemplating your question. Or maybe his answer. He looked back up, solidly holding your gaze. “If you want it to.”
You weren’t prepared for that response. If you wanted it to? What kind of question was if you wanted it to? Shouldn’t it be the other way around?
“Did you like it?” he prompted when your silence stretched a bit too long.
“I mean…” You officially dreaded running into your next door neighbors in the halls and you had no doubt a few noise complaints were coming your way, so that should have been obvious. “Yeah.”
“Me too,” he said easily, and there it was. The bright, boxy smile you had a hard time saying no to. “I like making you feel good. So why not?”
Your heart skipped at that flippant admission. There were a lot of reasons why not, but he made it sound so simple. So easy. You both liked doing it, so why not?
Still, it seemed too good to be true, and you bit your lip warily. “No strings attached? Nonexclusive?”
His head tilted a little at your proposal, and you rushed to explain it. “This is just for fun, right? So let’s keep it fun and uncomplicated. I don’t want to hold you up or anything, so how about we can have other partners, so long as we always use protection.”
“…That sounds fair to me,” he replied after a moment.
You held up a finger. “But if we find someone we want to start seeing seriously, we should stop. Because that would make things messy and be unfair to everyone involved.”
He nodded in agreement. “And whether there’s someone else or not, if you ever want to stop for any reason at all, just tell me.”
There was a fat chance that would happen, but you appreciated his careful consideration nonetheless. “And do you mind if we just keep this between us?”
Taehyung’s eyebrows pinched for a second before you saw his face smooth out. “Sure. Any reason why?”
“I just think other people could complicate things,” you admitted. “And you know how nosy our friends are. They won’t let us just be, you know? They’ll make it into something it’s not.”
“Just between us, then.” He offered his hand, and despite you being the main one who thought things through, you found yourself shy to take it. You shook on it, and that was that.
And so, a standing arrangement was made, with rules in place to help keep it just as simple as it sounded. No strings attached— nonexclusive, and either of you can stop it at any time. It was easy—whenever either of you was feeling particularly frisky, you would go to him (or him to you) and he would thoroughly pipe you down until that itch was scratched.
But, of course, nothing is ever truly simple. Because there was one giant reason why you didn’t want anyone to know about your tryst. The glaring problem you’ve been ignoring since the start is that no matter how much Tae helps you scratch, you are never going to stop itching. 
Because you may or may not be harboring a fat crush on your friend. 
And Yoongi knows.
That night you got wasted on scotch and drank him under the table? Apparently, scotch makes you talkative, and Yoongi has always been a good listener. He casually brought it up when the two of you had grabbed coffee the next morning and you wanted to walk into traffic, you were so embarrassed by your own loose lips. But Yoongi is a great friend in that he promised he would never repeat your secrets. He is also a great friend in that he would never let you go along with this friends with benefits situation knowing what he knows, and knowing that it can’t possibly end well for you. 
You know that too, of course. You’re fully aware of how bad an idea this is. How his eventual rejection will shatter you, how it will ruin the dynamics of your entire friend group. And still, you went forward with it.  Because before you could stop it, your small crush on one of your best friends bloomed into something much more than that. And so these little nights where you ached for dick? You didn’t just want any dick. You wanted Taehyung’s. Only Taehyung’s. Only Taehyung. 
You know that the moment Yoongi finds out, he’ll try to talk some sense into you—because he’s a good friend, and, unlike you, he wants what’s best for you. 
And hypothetical Yoongi is right. This is a stupid idea, absolutely moronic to put yourself in this kind of of situation. But you are always stupid when it comes to Taehyung. Greedy. You want all of him, all his belly laughs and dark looks and enthusiastic karaoke performances and soft touches and introspective mornings. You want that—want any and all scraps he’s willing to give you, and at this point in time, you find enough strength in this blatant weakness that you keep giving yourself to him.
Or, at least, you had.
Before tonight.
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Tonight, Taehyung pushes you against his apartment door, his urge to touch you outweighing his urge to hustle you both inside. His hands travel the curve of your ass, fingers digging into the meat of you in a way that can only be interpreted as mine. And you let him.
It’s not like that, he had told you, and as much as it hurts, it also ignites a fire within you. Because he promised to tell you if anyone else serious came along. Any serious prospects for either of you? This would all would end. You would stop. 
He promised, but he hasn’t claimed her. And, because of that, you can still have him—can bask in him as long as he keeps asking. As long he allows you.
Greedy, greedy. Stupid, stupid.
“Hobi-hyung was right,” he murmurs against your mouth. He’s much taller than you, so he has to bend down a good amount to meet you, though this has never seemed to bother him. “Should have checked the right nipple. I was hoping you would.”
It takes you a moment to figure out what he’s talking about, too distracted by the way his knee purposely slips between your legs. His sweater. The evasive Waldo.
“I’m much more interested in your pants,” you breathe, fingers tugging on the waistband to prove your point.
“Hmmm?” He smirks, and you tingle all the way to your toes. “Why? What do you think I’m hiding in there?”
You cup him, revel in the hiss that escapes his lips at the small pressure. “Taehyung. Open the door.”
He doesn’t have to be told twice, quickly rooting in the pockets of said pants for his keys and shifting you out of the way so he can properly access the lock. But after that, he barely gives you room to breathe, lips reuniting with yours. Hands sliding your coat to the ground and circling your waist, pulling you flush against him. Making sure you can feel the hard evidence of his want for you. Eager. Without separating from you, he kicks the door shut behind him, slips his shoes off, and starts walking you backwards.
You would tease him about his enthusiasm, but you’re no better. You thrive in it. Every step closer to his bed, every teasing brush of his thumbs beneath the hem of your sweater fills you with barely-suppressed glee. The little whimper he lets out when you work off his pants? Relief. 
It’s you who sinks to your knees, who scrapes your teeth over the hairs trailing his belly button, down, down. It’s you who purposefully presses your tongue into his weeping slit. You whose insides glow, bright as the sun, at the way his groans are barely able to be choked out. Because it’s your mouth he’s fucking into, not Jisoo’s. Not anyone else’s. It’s you who he belongs to, even if only for these fleeting moments.
Taehyung pulls you off of him before you can really get a rhythm going, before you decide to start fondling his balls in a way you know from experience will end him. Because, from the way he’s fisting your hair, tugging from the scalp with the exact amount of force that you love, he’s not ready to be done with you.
He undresses you with practiced hands, taking care to suck blooming color into all stretches of skin he uncovers. Open-mouthed kisses at the junction of your neck and collarbone. A light nip of your right breast, tongue immediately following and laving over the irritated area. When he finally decides to slip a hand between your thighs to get you ready for him, he can’t help but shudder when he realizes you already are. Two fingers easily sink into your hot cunt, a third making a gasp escape you.
“Look at you,” he mutters as he strokes you, and his tone borders enough on reverent that your whole body prickles in ecstasy. “Make me so fucking crazy.” A thumb swirls around your clit with intent and he recaptures your lips, inhaling your gasps as he beckons, beckons, and your thighs shake.
It’s too much—it’s not enough, and you’re going dizzy with want for him. Your hands scrabble up his back, pulling him completely on top of you, his warm weight more than welcome. Your chests are flush, and still, it is not enough. 
Taehyung somehow understands you—has always managed to understand you. Understands the root of your growing frustration. With one last lingering kiss, he pulls away just enough to reach over and open the drawer of the nightstand next to you. 
You feel protest building beneath your skin but you suppress it. Because previous encounters have taught you that you’re getting what you want. And sure enough, he roots out a condom, wasting no time in ripping open the foil and rolling the rubber down his length.
No matter how often he’s had you, the first press of his cock has always been intense—he is long and thick and yours, yours. Taehyung covers you with his body and fills in all your empty spaces until you are finally whole. Until you’re both slick with sweat and his hair sticks to his forehead, a notably primal noise rumbling in his chest. Until you’re so out of your mind that your teeth lock into his shoulder and you quiver uncontrollably. 
It’s only during these moments that you allow yourself the luxury of pretending. Only during these moments that you allow your mind to linger in the fantasy that this is more than it is. 
After, Taehyung always pulls you against him, and you always silently barter with the sun for a little more time. Wordlessly beg the moon to stay, please stay, just a little bit longer. 
You always fall asleep in his arms, his steady heartbeat lulling you into unconsciousness, and that’s that.  
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There’s nothing in particular that wakes you the next morning. It could be the sound of movement in the next room, but it could also be the growing sunlight filtering through the blinds, or your brain nudging you because your subconscious knows you have somewhere to be. In any case, you blink slowly and unseeingly at the closet door, languidly stretching your legs one by one beneath the sheets.
Until it suddenly clicks in the recesses of your mind that the reason you’re squinting is because the sun is well and fully out. And you have somewhere you should be.
You leap out of bed, frazzled and adrenaline pumping as you ruffle through your discarded jeans for your phone. You forgot to set your alarm and it’s 11:15. Fuck.
“Taehyung!” you yell, slapping on one of his t-shirts you find haphazardly thrown over a chair. It’s just big enough to cover all your important bits, but that’s the last thing on your mind as you storm into the hallway in search of your friend.
You find him in the kitchen. He turns at the sound of your voice, hair adorably mussed by his pillow and your hands. “Hey,” he greets you, deep voice somehow always even deeper in the morning. He’s wearing nothing but a pair of gray sweatpants, and you swallow hard at the sight, forcing yourself to focus.
“I missed my flight!” you screech. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”
Tae bites his lip. “So funny story,” he says in a way that lets you know that the oncoming story will be anything but. “You know that huge snowstorm that’s set to hit at the end of the week?”
“…Yes?” you reply suspiciously. You’ve been keeping an eye on it, worried that it might interfere with your travel plans. But your local weatherman’s assurance that you would already be home and eating your grandma’s macaroni and cheese by the time the storm hit you calmed you. 
“Well,” he continues, a nervous chuckle putting you on edge. “It hit last night. Surprise!”
You blink, unamused by his obvious joke. “What.”
“Twenty-two inches,” he continues. “Your flight has definitely been canceled. I doubt we can even get out of this building right now, to be honest. Who knows when my landlord’s gonna start shoveling.”
“Taehyung. Now is not the time to play with me,” you warn. Even as you’re unlocking your phone to factcheck him yourself.
“I’m not,” he promises, holding up his hands, pacifying. “Flights are canceled and you looked tired, so figured I’d just let you sleep.”
But his explanation falls on deaf ears when the internet confirms everything he’s saying. Jaw dropping in disbelief, you rush towards the window over the sink, separating the blinds with a finger. 
All you see is white.
“Holy shit,” you mutter to yourself in wonder, astonished to not even be able to see any of the cars you know for a fact are parked along the street. Hell, you can’t even see the street. Everything is just buried under too much snow.
“There’s nothing we can do,” he says, a hand catching your elbow. He leads you to the table. “Come on, sit down. I’ll make you some coffee.”
“Thanks,” you say, dazedly doing what he asks as your mind goes a mile a minute. Worried your mother will still wait at the airport for a plane that will never arrive, you quickly give her a call. 
“I figured,” she says. “I saw that a storm hit your area on the news, and when I looked it up, your plane had been canceled.”
“I’m sorry, Mom.”
“Girl, don’t be! I haven’t even gotten dressed yet.” You can hear Christmas music playing in the background, and you can imagine her, still in her pajamas, in the kitchen getting started on the dishes she was assigned to bring to your grandmother’s tomorrow. Now that your plans of going home are a little more up in the air, it makes you a little homesick. “Are you safe? Still have power and enough food?”
“Yes.” Your eyes dart to Taehyung, who is busy pulling what he needs from the cabinets near the sink. You swallow. “I’m safe. I’m going to look today to see if I can get another flight, but Mom, I think I’m gonna miss Christmas.”
Your mother has always been rather perceptive of your emotions, and you know this time is no different when, after a pause, she replies, “Don’t be sad, baby. It’s beyond your control and everything happens for a reason. We’ll just celebrate whenever you make it home.”
“I’m going to try to get another flight,” you repeat, and she just chuckles. “I’ll let you know.”
After promising to pass along the bad news to the rest of your family, your mother hangs up with a love you. You sigh, definitely a little forlorn. 
Taehyung shoots you a sympathetic look over his shoulder. “This will make you feel better,” he promises as he continues his quest. He doesn’t drink coffee, but he still always has a box of your favorite kind on hand and that’s what he gets brewing for you. “We’re honestly lucky we still have power,” he muses, pulling creamer out of the fridge as he waits for the Keurig to finish brewing your cup. “It’s cold as shit outside.”
“Yeah,” you murmur, still internally frazzled. This new development has thrown you completely for a loop. 
“What do you want for breakfast?” he asks, musing over fridge inventory. “I have half a pizza, eggs, kimchi, and that spray cheese in a can.” 
You grimace. “Why in the hell do you have spray cheese?”
“Because it’s lowkey fire at 2am and it’s good food to have in case of an apocalypse,” he replies, tone much too reasonable for someone who kept cans of spray cheese in their fridge. He gestures towards the window. “And would you look at that? Snowpocalypse. Aren’t you glad we have this spray cheese?”
You pretend to think, though you can’t help the chuckles that escape you at his ridiculous reasoning. “No, not really.”
It’s him who laughs this time, pouring creamer into the awaiting coffee mug and returning it to the refrigerator door. He stirs in two sweetener packets then casually hands the mug to you.
“Thanks. Okay, but seriously! How the hell are meteorologists so wrong all the time?” You take a sip, humming in approval when you find the coffee to be exactly how you like it. “I mean, I was too busy to check the weather yesterday, but I’ve been paying attention for the past few days and they always said the storm would hit later. How could they not have seen this coming?”
“It’s pretty embarrassing,” he agrees, moving to pull out his own mug. You see him pause in realization when his hand wraps around his newest favorite, the light bulb visibly turning on in his head. “Wait…is this how you knew?”
The mug’s gorgeous—covered in vibrant colors painted in distinct, yet abstract patterns. The signature on the side declares it to be a print of one of Kim Jungwoo’s newest works.  
You shrug, a small smile on your face. “I always see you drinking out of it so I just figured…”
“God, you’re amazing,” he says with a sigh, and you have to work very hard to control the elation building in your chest. To remind yourself not to take his words too seriously.
“I’m glad you think so.” You clear your throat. “Because looks like you’re stuck with me for a little bit.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Tae huffs out a laugh, sitting in the chair across from yours. 
You lift a brow. “Isn’t this fucking up your holiday plans too?”
He shrugs. “I was gonna drive back, but who knows when the roads will be clear and safe. In the meantime, this’ll be fun! We’ve got internet, tv, food—though actually? Should we start rationing? Who knows how long we’ll be stranded.”
“You’re asking whether we should start rationing your cheese in a can,” you deadpan.
“You know what? Since you clearly think you’re too good for it, no cheese for you.”
“I think I’ll live.” You see him hide his smile behind his mug, and you tamp down yours, too. “Anyway, I’m pretty sure I saw some pancake mix in your cabinet the other day. How about I make us some and you can spray your little cheese on it.”
“Sounds like a plan,” he replies, so straight-faced that for a horrifying moment, you have to contemplate whether he’s kidding or not. But Tae has always had a rather sarcastic brand of humor, so you just pray that this is a prime example of that.
It’s only when you stand up and feel the resulting breeze on your ass that you remember that, aside from the extra-large t-shirt you’re wearing, you’re entirely naked. Heat rises to your face when you see Tae’s gaze immediately flick down to the long stretch of your legs. It’s strange that you’re bashful at his obvious attention—it’s not like he hasn’t seen and touched everything under that shirt before; not like he’s not the source of the hickeys littering your skin. 
Still, it feels oddly intimate to hold his attention in such a manner now. To have him look for no other reason than to admire you.
“Let me put clothes on first,” you mutter, intensely aware of the way his eyes follow you out.
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Ultimately, today becomes one of the most relaxing Christmas Eves that you’ve ever had. After you shower and throw your clothes from the night before back on, the two of you have breakfast and then settle onto the living room couch for a wondrously lazy day of watching cheesy Hallmark Christmas movies and scrolling your social media. You attempt to find a new flight home for tomorrow, but flights are already full and you’re not surprised—everyone else is also fighting tooth and nail to rebook their flight. In any case, with the way snow is still being cleared all over the city, you’re not too sure it will be safe for planes to fly tomorrow, anyway. You’ll just have to stay on top of it and try again later. 
For a little while, your groupchat is active with conversation on everyone’s clear annoyance at travel plans being disrupted. But eventually, your friends all quiet and it’s just you and Taehyung again, eating leftover pizza and laughing at the wonderfully bad plots.
Before you realize it, it’s time for the two of you to call it a night, and it’s strange how easily you slot into place—like there’s a place for you to slot into. Strange how you wordlessly take the right side of the bed and him the left.
You almost offered to take the couch, but realized how ridiculous that was when Tae started to head to his bedroom and looked over his shoulder to make sure you were coming. You’ve shared the same bed as Taehyung before, obviously, but have never done so without also sharing your body. For that reason, it’s strange to watch him wash his face and brush his teeth, strange to see him don a rather pricey-looking pajama set, strange to slide in next to him under the sheets. 
It’s all so blatantly domestic that your heart hurts. That you want to lick a path across his collarbone to reestablish boundaries, to ground yourself in what this really is. 
That you want to close your eyes, want to bask in this simple feeling of belonging by his side for as long as you’re allowed.   
You turn off the lamp next to you. You both shuffle in the darkness, getting comfortable.
“Goodnight,” Taehyung whispers, voice a lot closer than you thought it would be.
You turn over to face him. Give yourself one second to pretend, one second to look at the shadowed shape of him in the dark. You close your eyes.
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You wake up the next morning with arms wrapped around you, lips resting in the crook of your neck. This doesn’t surprise you—Taehyung has always been a cuddler. Still, he’s never cuddled up to you without sex being involved, so you are a bit caught off guard.
He must just like to sleep like this, you tell yourself. You won’t lie and say you don’t enjoy it too—it’s nice and warm in your little blanket cocoon, the weight of his body near you, on you strangely comforting. You’re awake but you don’t get up, content to stay in this quiet, safe limbo.
Eventually, Taehyung stirs. So do you, jolted out of your trance and slipping away from him before he has the chance to see any expression on your face that it’s far too early to mask.  
You use the restroom and brush your teeth with the toothbrush that has been designated as yours. (One morning after, you had complained of morning breath; the next time you slept over, it was already waiting for you in a drawer.) Your eyes idly roam your reflection as you press the bristles against your teeth in practiced small circles. Your hair, previously thrown into a quick bun, has been tousled in sleep, and you’re wearing Tae’s t-shirt again because you didn’t have anything else to sleep in. 
You spit into the sink and crack open the door. “Taehyung.” 
It takes long enough for you to rinse your mouth of foam for him to respond. “Hmm?”
“I don’t have any clothes.”
“You can borrow some of mine,” he replies, and his voice is gruff and muffled, like his face is still pressed into a pillow. It probably still is.
But despite what you anticipate when you reenter his bedroom, Taehyung is already out of bed and rooting around in his dresser. He reflexively glances at you when you appear in the doorway, eyes squinting in protest against the sunlight streaming through the window. His face is still puffy with sleep and his hair is even more disheveled than yours, sticking up in all directions. You’re extremely endeared.
“Thank you,” you say gratefully when he hands you another t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. Your hand rises before you think about it, fingers raking against his scalp as you smooth his rebellious hair back into place.
Taehyung freezes, suddenly looking a lot more awake. He stares at you, and it’s only after a few moments of this that you realize exactly what you’re doing. 
You snatch your hand back, awkwardly clearing your throat. “Um. Merry Christmas.”
A small smile creeps onto his face. “Merry Christmas, _____.”
Flustered, you gather the clothes close to your chest and return to the bathroom to change.
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You’re in the living room, sipping on your coffee and waiting for the news to come back from commercial, when your phone vibrates.
Text message (now)
Your brows furrow in confusion. Taehyung is currently in the kitchen, having decided that it’s his turn to scrounge up some breakfast for the two of you since you cooked yesterday. Why is he texting you when you can hear him just fine from here?
Perplexed, you unlock the screen.
[10:15] Taehyung how do you like your eggs?
[10:15] Taehyung Fried or fertilized
You bite your lip, swallowing the laugh building in your chest. Because you certainly don’t want to encourage his ridiculousness.
“Stop trying to sext me,” you say loudly from your spot on the sofa. “I don’t need this right now.”
“Oh come on, _____. It’s a serious question,” you hear him call back. ”Don’t be like that!”
“Taehyung, I’m trying to see how long we’re gonna be trapped here. Can you be serious?”
He pops his head through the doorway, a clear pout on his face. “I am serious.” 
You struggle not to break, pretending to be too engrossed in the updated weather report to notice the way he makes his way over to you. You definitely should be engrossed in the weather report—it’s the reason you’re watching the news in the first place—but you can’t help but have your focus stray elsewhere when Tae slowly drops one knee. The other.
Your heart rate speeds up, but you pretend to be unaffected. Pretend that you haven’t long-abandoned the local news, that you’re not hyper-aware of him and everything he’s doing. He’s blocking your view of the tv, so you pointedly lean to the side to see around him, lips pursed in an attempt to tamp down your amusement.
A few moments of nothing, of you both pretending you’re not hyper-aware of each other’s proximity. 
Then, he makes his move.
His hands start on your knees, large and warm and shooting rippling sparks across your body. Still, you focus on not reacting. The weatherman is finally on tv, gesturing to the green screen map, but though he’s talking, you hear none of it, much too interested in the circles Taehyung’s thumbs are rubbing into the fabric of your sweatpants. (His sweatpants, big enough that you had to roll them over twice at the waist in order make them fit.) You’re able to keep up your apathetic charade until his hands inch higher, start rubbing further inward. 
Your eyes snap to his. There’s an amused smirk touching his lips, but his eyes—you’ve seen that look in them before. It makes you reflexively swallow. “Really, Tae? I’m watching tv.”
“You don’t even have to do anything,” he wheedles, fingers hooking into your waistband. “Just pretend like I’m not even here.”
You give him a look, but don’t stop him when he starts to pull them down. Simply lift your hips a little to help him slip them off.
You didn’t have any clean underwear, so when the pants are tossed uncaringly to the ground, there is nothing to hide you from Taehyung’s feasting eyes. And feast he does, gently pushing your legs apart and immediately zeroing in on your naked sex, a distracted tongue swiping across his lips.
You hadn’t bothered to put a bra on this morning and now you regret it, your nipples proudly and visibly straining the material of your t-shirt and betraying your excitement. Though you suppose it doesn’t matter when he trails lazy, open-mouthed kisses up one of your legs, hands grabbing you by the ass and scooting you forward and closer to his mouth. His unhurried tongue playfully dragging through the crease where your thigh ends and your pussy begins.
“Taehyung,” you breathe, though you don’t really have anything to say. Tae seems to understand this, simply replying with a rather sweet kiss on your inner thigh before turning his head and going for the prize. You can’t help but let out a sigh at the contact, the familiar feeling of his mouth on you so warm and wet and good.
He takes his time, licking a wide stripe up your lips and idly circling your clit and making your indifferent facade immediately and abruptly drop. It is much too hard to keep it up when he’s eating you like you’re the best thing he’s ever tasted, like you’re something he wants to savor. And in any case, your body quickly betrays you, twitching after every bold flick of his tongue. Not to mention that the longer he keeps going, the wider your legs part for him. The more your back starts to slide down the couch, pushing further into his face. 
Taehyung hums in approval, simply slinging your legs over his shoulder so he can get as close as possible. A moan escapes your lips before you can swallow it, a hand rooting itself in his dark curls. Wordlessly saying what you don’t. Don’t stop, oh, god, please don’t stop.
And at that point, something seems to snap in him. While before you were something to savor, now, Taehyung devours you, flat out going to town. Wet slurping quickly overtakes the sound of tv, only rivaled by your increasingly erratic breathing and the moans you can no longer keep at bay. 
Your hips reflexively try to rise, but he keeps a firm hand on your thigh to hold you in place while he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks, looking you in the eye the entire time. You whine, rapidly coming undone, and he only responds by reaching up to roughly twist one of your nipples while he tongue-fucks you. That only makes you louder, only makes you sound more desperate. Only makes your eyes roll back in your head.
There’s no stopping it now—you’re past the point of no return, past all sense. You have tunnel-vision, mouth slack, every atom in your being screaming to be pushed off that final euphoric cliff, and that’s all you can think about. All you can focus on. You ride his face, hips grinding down hard and fingers tightening in his hair, holding him to you. 
But Taehyung clearly has no intention of going anywhere, eyes fluttering shut in pleasure every few seconds, little satisfied whimpers escaping him every time you tug a bit too hard. And when your thighs finally trap his head between them, the intense orgasm making your back bow, he moans right along with you, greedily lapping up the fruits of his efforts.
As is usually the case, you have to push him away from you. Taehyung has always been utterly at home between your thighs, has always been honored to receive every drop you’re willing gift him. He would be there all day if you let him, but you’re too winded and sensitive for that right now, so he reluctantly pulls back. 
Looking at him now, it almost looks like he was the one that was fucked out, not you. His hair is a mess again, eyes completely blown as they look at you. And, most telling, there’s a visible sheen on his face from his nose all the way down his chin that he pays no attention to, more focused on licking the remnants of you from his swollen lips.
You struggle to form words, the powerful orgasm he had coaxed from you rendering you drowsy and boneless. “W-wha…why—”
“’Tis the season!” he replies simply with a boxy grin. “Merry Christmas, babe.”
You stare at him, baffled, but Taehyung only pats you on the knee before standing up. 
“Okay, but seriously, how do you like your eggs? Because the only other thing I know how to make is cereal, but I don’t have any milk, so if that’s what you want, you’ll have to eat it dry.”
Your feel like that one confused lady meme, brain shuffling through any and all mathematical equations that could help you solve the question he asked you.  His cock is blatantly hard now and he’s not trying to hide it, but he also seems uninterested in doing anything about it. “…scrambled is fine.”
With an enthusiastic thumbs up, he leaves you there, puffy and slick, thighs still twitching.
You eat your eggs together on the couch, Taehyung shoveling his into his mouth like he didn’t just get done trying to suck your soul out through your pussy. The rest of your Christmas is spent bundled up under a shared blanket, sipping on hot cocoa and watching all the claymation Christmas movies that come on tv.
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For the past two days, the streets have been a mess and trains unavailable. But when you wake up this morning, peeling yourself away from the unfamiliar scratch of Tae’s emerging stubble, everything seems to be back to normal. You can hear cars honking outside, can hear the scrape of shovels against concrete as people try to remove the last remanants of the storm.
A glance at the unread messages in your groupchat only confirms your suspicions. Your friends have all successfully secured methods of leaving the city and are in various stages of heading back home. But you? You’re quickly reminded of how annoying it is when supply doesn’t meet demand. With everyone and their mother fighting to rebook their abruptly cancelled plans, the earliest available ticket that is also in your budget won’t even have you flying out until right before New Year’s. And seeing as you have to work on the 2nd, there is absolutely no point in spending the money only to come right back.
Disappointed, you sit at the kitchen table and you give your mom a call to deliver the news. She completely understands, of course, not wanting you to spend more money either.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think that you don’t care if I come at all,” you tease, eyes flicking to the doorway at sudden movement. It’s Taehyung, wearing a pair of glasses and still in his pajamas. When he sees you’re on the phone, he gives you a silent wave, mouth stretching wide into a yawn as he dutifully searches for your mugs.
“Now, you know that’s not true,” your mother laughs. “You’re my baby and I miss you. I’m sorry you had to spend Christmas all alone.”
Your heart pings at that sentiment, but your gaze can’t help but drift towards Tae, who has his back to you. He’s making you coffee, as has now apparently become your routine. 
It’s bizarre that the word routine can even be used at all in relation to the two of you, at all—bizarre and mildly alarming. He makes you coffee and you bicker over what to watch on tv and you’re little spoon and you have an unspoken side of the bed. Just three days locked in an apartment together and things have become…comfortable.
You swallow, looking away. There is another word for this that you don’t dare utter, that you don’t dare to linger on. Because you don’t want to start seeing things where there are none.
You don’t want to convince yourself that this is something more than it is.
“Christmas alone wasn’t that bad,” you say. Tae’s hand, reaching for a spoon, pauses for just a second before his fingers wrap around it. You clear your throat. “Mostly just watched tv. But how about I try to come home sometime in the spring? Maybe for your birthday?”
Your mother is excited about this plan, just as you thought she would be. The two of you hang up just as Taehyung sets your mug in front of you.
“Thanks. Those are new,” you say, pointing to his glasses. He’s worn glasses before, of course, but they’ve always been more of a fashion statement. This pair is wire-rimmed and markedly dorky. They’re endearing and you love them.
He rubs the back his neck, embarrassed. “I ran out of contacts.”
“Don’t worry. I think they’re cute,” you grin, reaching over to give them a cheeky tap. “But lucky for you, it looks like we’re finally free to blow this joint—all snow has been cleared.”
“Really?” You’re not sure why he sounds so surprised. He had to have known that the snow wouldn’t last forever.
“Yup. So you won’t have to deal with me for much longer. I can get out of your hair.”
He takes a sip from his mug as he ponders that. “Where are you going to go?”
You puff out a laugh at the question. “Um, home? You know, my apartment?”
“Well, I’m the only one who lives there, so I would imagine so.” Your brows furrow in confusion. “Tae, what’s up with you?”
“It’s just…I’ve been thinking.” His fingers absentmindedly tap on the table as he mulls over his words. “You’re gonna be alone during the holidays. I’m gonna be alone during the holidays. So why don’t we just be alone together?”
You blink, brain slow to grasp his words. “You mean we should keep meeting up?”
“We could.” He shifts in his seat. “Or, we could just cut out all the in-between and you can just keep staying here.”
Well, you definitely didn’t see that coming. Your face must betray your surprise, because Taehyung is quick to try again. “Or we could stay at your place! Just a suggestion! I just figured it would be easier.”
You’re stunned silent, and it takes a few moments to find your voice. “You’re not sick of me yet?” you ask, bewildered.
“I could never get sick of you, _____,” he says, kind of shy, and it makes your chest warm, warm.
Remember what this is, you remind yourself, inwardly shaking off any delusional thoughts before they can take root. “…This is because you’re horny and you want easy access, isn’t it.” 
But Taehyung scoffs, an irritated pinch to his brow. “I mean, I also just enjoy hanging out with you, but if you don’t want to, I get it.”
“No! No, I want to, Tae. I’m just surprised.” He meets your gaze then, expression softening a little. “I just have to go pick up some stuff from my apartment.”
“And I should stop at the grocery store so that we have other things to eat than apocalypse cheese,” he muses aloud.
The two of you end up going together. First stop is your apartment, where you take a shower and throw on the first clean clothes that have actually belonged to you in days. Taehyung waits for you, casually scrolling his phone as you go about packing a bag. 
This is weird. Nowhere near normal and Tae is acting like it is, like you pack bags all the time with the express purpose of staying with him, in his place, in his bed. You feel like some sort of invisible line is being toed, but maybe it’s not. Maybe you’re just hypersensitive because you’re afraid you’ll get too comfortable with this new arrangement and open your big mouth and just flat out ruin everything. 
So with that in mind, you say nothing as you toss in twice as much underwear than you could possibly need (can never be too careful) and a couple pairs of pants. You slip on your much needed winter boots and then you’re off to get groceries.
The two of you chat as you peruse the aisles, Tae dutifully pushing the cart while you contemplate what items you’ll need for dinner tonight. You chat while you carry the bags the few blocks to Tae’s apartment. You chat while you start a new tv series together, while you prepare dinner together and while you eat it together. And on the surface, everything is nice and easy, like it always is when it comes to Tae. You’re alone and so is he, so you should be together. One plus one equals two.  
But Taehyung’s wide smile makes the forbidden thing in you build and build, grow and grow. 
You smile back, and you say nothing. 
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“You know what we should do today?” Taehyung asks. He’s just hopped out of the shower and his hair is wet, loose waves dripping dark spots into the material of his t-shirt.
You look up from your bowl of cereal, but you don’t stop chewing. You watch a bead of water trail down his neck and have to hold yourself back from leaning over to lick it up. “What?”
“We should go see that exhibit.”
It takes a second for your brain, always sluggish in the morning, to catch on to what he’s saying. “You mean your Christmas gift?”
“Yeah.” He’s excited, eyes practically disappearing with the force of his wide and boxy smile. Like a child on Christmas morning. “Let’s go!” 
“Tae, you don’t have to go with me, you know,” you point out. “It’s your gift. You can use those tickets on whoever you want.”
He snorts, like what you said was ridiculous. “And I want to use them on you. And since it’s my gift, you can’t say no.”
This time, it’s you who smiles. “Can’t argue with that.”
So after a change of clothes, it’s to the industrial building serving as an art gallery you go. A quick call to your cousin ensures that tickets are waiting for you at the front desk, and Taehyung’s smile doesn’t leave the whole way there.
There are a good amount of people already in the allotted space when you enter, only confirming to you that this is most definitely an exhibit you should be seeing while you can. While you can certainly appreciate it, you’re not really into art like Taehyung is. Kim Jungwoo’s work, however, catches your attention immediately. You realize after setting eyes on the first piece that Jungwoo’s art is truly something that should be experienced firsthand—it doesn’t take long to see that the print on the mug Taehyung uses every day doesn’t hold a candle to the real thing. Everything skews a bit abstract, but the coloring of each piece, the length of each and every brushstroke, somehow makes you feel. 
You weren’t expecting this reaction, so you take your time scanning each each piece, simply marinating in whatever emotions come. Tae does the same, so, naturally, your paths diverge and reconnect as you go along, a dance of push and pull.
It’s only when you cross him again at one of the last pieces that the two of you have your first real conversation.
“These are gorgeous,” you offer, touching his arm to get his attention. Your voice is soft, not wanting to disturb the introspective quiet of the room. 
“Mmm.” Taehyung looks down at you, then back to the painting. His brow pinches a little as he mulls over it, full of curling shades of gray. You think him so deep in thought that it almost startles you when he speaks again. “I really like this one. Were there any in particular that spoke to you?”
It only takes you a second to respond. “That one,” you say, pointing to one of the first paintings. Wordlessly, he makes his way back to it, and you follow, trying to put into words why you like it so much. “I don’t know, it just feels very layered? Like, the title is Contentment. But the colors chosen feel the complete opposite—there is a lot of red and black, and those are really bold, you know? Colors we usually associate with powerful things. Intense, uncontrollable. And so it makes me feel like he’s lying, either to us, his intended audience, or to himself. How can he be content when there’s clearly something brewing beneath the surface? Consuming him from the inside out?”
He nods slowly as you speak, considering your interpretation of the canvas. “You’re right,” he says finally. “It does feel like there’s a lot being unsaid.” A few moments pass, where you both simply look at painting, quiet. Then, he turns back to you, expression unreadable. “Thank you. For being here with me.”
Your breath catches in your throat at the unnamed intensity in his gaze. You aren’t sure what to say. “Of course,” you say reflexively. And that is enough.
After a few more minutes of browsing, the two of you decide to leave. The piece Tae had been entranced by is close to the exit, and you give it another casual glance as you walk by.
Longing, the placard says. You turn away.
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The sun is deceivingly bright outside—when looking out the window, it appears to be a beautiful winter day. But as soon as you exit the building, you’re assaulted by the rather frigid air, passersby huddling beneath their coats and walking briskly to keep warm.
Taehyung shuffles further into his winter coat as well, breath puffing out in visible bursts. He looks ridiculously handsome against the snowy city backdrop, a natural model for a men’s cologne ad. His long coat is fashionable and heavy, but from the way he’s stuffing his hands in his pockets, apparently not heavy enough.
“Fuck it’s cold,” he says, and you feel that sentiment in your bones. Literally.
“You’re the one who wanted to go outside,” you remind him, teeth chattering as the two of you hustle the few blocks to the restaurant you’ve chosen for lunch. Your hood is up, but you regret not bringing a hat too. “I was perfectly content to keep marathoning The Good Place.”
He laughs, an arm casually sliding over your shoulder and pulling you into his side so you can share body heat. And this is better. A little bit.
“Don’t be like that,” Taehyung chastises. “It’s Christmas.”
“Taehyung, it is not Christmas.”
“Christmas is a feeling, _____.”
“It’s also a date on the calendar. That has now passed.”
Taehyung tuts, opening the restaurant door for you. The warmth from inside spills out, and you both sigh in relief, rubbing your hands together as the hostess leads you to your table by the window. Luckily, said window appears to be insulated well, because you feel no breeze when you start to peel off your layers. “If it’s not Christmas,” Taehyung continues cheekily, head tilting towards the window. “How do you explain that?”
Amused, you follow his line of sight across the street, where a man in a lot is standing next to a big sign that says Christmas Trees.
“Oh my god, are they seriously still selling Christmas trees?” you snort incredulously, attention moving back to your menu. “Who the hell is still buying them? And honestly, with how rough those trees look, that guy should be paying you to take one.”
“We should get one.”
You laugh, trying to decide what kind of soup you want to come with your sandwich. But Tae’s laugh doesn’t follow, and, wary of his silence, you glance back up. There is a suspicious glint in his eyes, a quirk of his lips that you don’t trust. “…Wait a minute,” you say. “Are you serious?”
“Taehyung, why do you want to purchase a raggedy-ass Christmas tree?”
“They’re not that raggedy, and because Christmas was stolen from us this year.”
“They’re raggedy. You and I both know they’re raggedy.”
“_____,” he says tone more serious than you’re anticipating for such a silly conversation. “You were really looking forward to the holidays. And I know it’s obviously not the same, but there’s no reason we can’t celebrate now.”
That throws you for a loop. Yes, you’ve been pretty content over these past few days, but you have also been a little bummed that the snowstorm snatched your holiday plans away from you. You hadn’t realized Tae has been watching you that closely, and it makes your chest warm to know he has.
“…Okay, fine,” you say, hiding your growing smile behind your menu. “We can go get your tree.”
Taehyung hoots in victory and you shush him, though you don’t really mean it. 
After you eat lunch and pay, you dutifully bundle back up and follow him to the Christmas tree lot across the street, where the guy selling them is thrilled to see potential customers. He tells you that all trees are 75% off, which doesn’t surprise you, seeing as the holiday has already passed and the demand for his product has gone way down. Still, looking at his inventory, you personally think even that amount is too much.
You can’t help but voice your concerns. “Taehyung, Charlie Brown’s tree looked better than any of these.” The vendor shoots you a dirty look, but you don’t care. These trees are busted. Clearly, the winter storm had not been kind to them.
“Doesn’t matter,” Tae says cheerfully, walking slowly so he can inspect each one. “We can fill it in with a lot of clearance ornaments.”
“Wow, you’re really going all out, huh?” you tease.  
He scoffs, turning his head to throw you a pointed look. “Obviously. It’s Christmas.”
“It’s not Christmas.”
“We have already discussed this! It is Chris—”
You’re not quite sure what happens. One second he is playfully arguing with you, the next he disappears from view, swept entirely off his feet. You startle at the flurry of movement, bewildered when you realize that he’s now on the ground, limbs askew. “Oh my god, Tae! Are you okay?”
Taehyung winces, speckled with wayward snow. “Ow! I think I broke it,” he groans as you scramble to help him up.
“Broke what?” you ask as he stands, giving him a panicked scan for injury. 
He answers by rubbing his behind, no doubt bruised. “Kiss it better?”
You roll your eyes, unamused, but happy he’s not actually hurt. “I’m not kissing your ass,” you snort, reaching over to brush the snow off it anyway. “And to be honest, you can kiss mine for even asking me to.”
He nods. “Later,” he says, and it sounds suspiciously like a promise. The way he’s grinning does not bode well for you.
For the sake of time, you both agree that Tae will choose the tree and you will choose the ornaments, so you leave him to quickly pop into a nearby store to grab a bunch of ornaments and string lights from the sale bin. When you return, you find that the tree Taehyung has chosen is as tall as he is, but spindly, and, frankly, pretty sad. 
“He tacked on even more of a discount,” Tae informs you cheerfully. “I think he’s worried I’ll sue him.”
“You should,” you mutter under your breath. “For having the audacity to sell you that tree.” You frown, mentally trying to figure out the logistics. “Taehyung, should we go get your car?”
“Nah. I can just carry it.”
Your eyebrows raise. “We can’t get on the train with this. You’re really gonna carry it for six blocks?”
He lifts it, testing its weight. “It’s not that far,” he decides. “And my pride is at stake.”
“What pride?” you reply incredulously. “You literally just busted your ass five minutes ago!”
“That’s exactly why it’s at stake,” he insists, and the branches of the tree are so sparse, you can see him pouting through them. “And you know the only reason I fell is that they didn’t salt the ground and it’s slippery.”
You have bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing, not wanting to hurt his feelings. “Whatever you say, mountain man. Go ahead and carry your tree.”
“I will,” he snarks back. 
And so he does. For six blocks, you trail behind him as he lugs around a forty-pound evergreen that is very visibly on its last leg. You would argue that Tae is on his last leg too, with the way he huffs and puffs and repeatedly tries to rearrange it in his arms so the needles aren’t sticking him in the face.
“Need help?” you offer, amused.
His response is quick and irritated. “No.”
You roll your eyes. Men. If he wants to struggle to simply to prove a point, that’s on him. You were just gonna carry your ornament bag and make sure he didn’t get hit by any cars.
Finally, finally, the two of you make it to Tae’s apartment building. Into the small elevator you go, Tae resting some of the weight of the tree against a wall. Surprisingly, you almost make it all the way home without inconveniencing anyone else, but the elevator doors end up opening halfway up. (You get a weird look from the person on the other side, who wisely chooses to just catch the next one.) And by the time Taehyung is dumping the tree on his living room floor, he’s thoroughly winded.
“See?” he gasps out. “Easy.”
You can’t help the snort that escapes you this time. “Oh Tae~,” you tease, batting your eyelashes. “You’re so big and strong.”
He’s leaning over, hands on his knees as he catches his breath. “Damn straight.”
The two of you get to work decorating your sad tree, and it’s nice. Really nice, especially when he pours you glasses of wine to sip while you work, Nat King Cole crooning in the background. Slowly but surely, the tree starts to come together, and while it may not be the most stunning to most people, it is to you.
It is to you.
It’s when you’re completely done, the two of you sipping on your third-ish glasses of wine while admiring your hard work, that Taehyung pulls out his next bout of holiday cheer.
You frown at the random leaves he’s holding over your head, confused. “…Is that cilantro?” 
“Does this look like cilantro to you?” he asks, and he sounds kind of hesitant for some reason. Shy.
“Obviously it does, or I wouldn’t have asked.” You smile, willing to go along with his antics, just like you always are. “Are we having tacos for dinner? I don’t think you have any tortillas.”
“No, you dummy,” he replies, huffing out a laugh. “This is clearly mistletoe and we are clearly standing under it.”
Oh. Oh. You swallow, flustered by this new development. “We’re actually sitting right now, so who’s truly the dummy here?”
“Are you really going to argue with me? Standing, sitting, it’s all covered under mistletoe law.”
“Mistletoe law,” you deadpan.
“_____. It’s Christmas. You can’t ignore a Christmas tradition on Christmas.”
“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you this, Kim. It’s not Christmas.”
He gestures to the Christmas tree the two of you have just finished putting up. “We’ve already agreed that today is Christmas, so it is.  Do you really wanna anger the mistletoe gods?”
You laugh, endeared by his persistence. “No,” you agree softly. “Can’t have that.”
Even though he finally has your cooperation, Taehyung hesitates before he leans in, dark eyes reflecting the Christmas lights like he has stars in them, has the whole universe. 
And to you, he does.
He’s kissed you before, of course. Many, many times. But never without sex being the ultimate destination, and the press of his lips against yours now, with no other motive than to bask in you, rapidly throws you into a tailspin. It’s soft and strangely a bit timid and you can taste the wine on his breath, but you don’t care in the slightest because right now, the man with stars in his eyes is focused on you. You, you, you. 
There’s a feeling crawling up your throat, one you aren’t sure what to do with. It simmers and simmers, even after Tae pulls away from you, face flushed. Panicked, you lean back in, desperately licking his mouth open. He’s noticeably surprised, but follows your lead easily, like he always does. Kissing you back with just as much fervor. Grunting when you swing a leg over his lap, when your hand finds its way in his pants.
And you’re grateful. Grateful, because one more second of him looking at you like that and you’re going to cry. Going to flat out explode, and who knows if the resulting fragments of you will be salvageable. But it’s okay. Because when you’re doing this, when you’re busy riding his cock until he fucks you blind and it’s hard to breathe, it’s easy to forget.
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But there’s only so long pressure can build. Only so long it can be trapped, can be pushed down and ignored. It doesn’t take long for you to learn this the hard way.
The next day, you’re lounging around the apartment, today being declared lazy after all the excitement of the day before. You’re on the one of the last episodes of The Good Place and Tae made you pause it while he’s in the kitchen, fetching you both more snacks. 
And it is at this unassuming point in time that everything goes to shit.
An insistent buzzing has you reflexively searching your surroundings for the source, and it doesn’t take long for you to realize it’s Tae’s phone.
“Taehyung,” you yell, not bothering to move a muscle from your cozy blanket cocoon. Tae may have willingly left it seconds before, but you saw zero reasons for you to do the same. “Your phone is ringing!”
You hear him opening and shutting a drawer. “Who is it?”
You sigh, mustering up the will and energy to lean over and scrabble around the coffee table. When your fingers wrap around the vibrating pest, you listlessly bring it closer to your face.
Incoming call
The blood in your veins instantly runs ice cold. You stare at the screen, the words flashing across it quickly losing meaning as the phone continues to ring. Woodenly, you stand, blanket falling from your form like the afterthought it is.
Taehyung looks over his shoulder when he hears you enter the kitchen, a smile lacing his lips in greeting. But that smile soon falls, eyebrows pinching in confusion at whatever he must see on your face. He reflexively takes the phone you hold out to him, but one glance at the screen has his eyes snapping back to yours. His lips part.
“I think I should go,” you say quietly. There’s a burning behind your eyes but you blink it back into submission and turn to go gather your things.
“Wait.” There’s an edge of urgency to the word, a sense of rising panic. But you pay it no mind, hurrying to the bedroom to get your bag.
You’ve been stupid to forget—blatantly foolish and willfully obtuse. You’re a placeholder, and no amount of playing house will ever change that. Absolutely no different than what Alexa is to Hoseok, simply someone there to entertain him and warm his bed. Though, you suppose, you are different than Alexa. At the very least, Hoseok claims her, for however long he decides to do so. At least she has that.
“Wait,” Taehyung says again, and you’re not listening, too busy throwing one of your errant shirts back into the bag. He grabs you by the arm and you stop, frozen. “Wait.”
“What are we doing, Taehyung?” you whisper. 
“What do you mean?” He’s trying to catch your eye, trying to make you look at him. “Baby, I need you talk to me. What do you mean?”
“This.” You gesture wildly at nothing, at everything. Let out a shuddery breath. “This. What are we doing?”
“What we’ve always done,” he insists. His voice is getting louder, more distressed. “What’s the problem?”
Your head whips up, finally meeting his eye. “Stop pretending you’re dumb.” You’re tired, oh so tired. “Because we both know you’re not.”
That must be the wrong thing to say—the panic in his face steels out, his eyes daggers. “Why are you even upset?” he says cooly. “I don’t see how it matters.”
Flames lick up your throat. Flames that have been there for months. Flames that you’ve ignored, even as they slowly smothered you with smoke. “Maybe,” you say lowly. Carefully. The word rolling bitterly on your tongue. “I don’t want to be around when you’re fucking other people.”
And there it is. The truth that has been hovering between you all this time, practically a third party in your fucked up excuse of a relationship.
For a second, your truth renders Taehyung mute. His jaw drops slightly, head tilting in unspoken question. Gone is his carefully-neutral expression—in its place, blatant indignation reigns. “It’s never bothered you before.”
If only he knew. If only he knew how hard you’ve worked to turn a blind eye, to keep up your charade. You don’t want to hear any more. “This was a mistake,” you say quietly, and his face crumples. “This was all a mistake, and I think I should go before either of us says something that we’ll regret.”
Your attempt at diffusing the situation only seems to make him more mad. He’s shaking his head. No no no. “Don’t do that,” he growls. “Don’t play games with me, _____.”
“Don’t do what?” you snap. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“You know damn well I’m in love with you!” He’s shouting now, but his voice is starting to crack. “Don’t do that.”
“Stop it.” Someone’s breathing is audible, and through the blood pumping in your ears, you can’t discern whether it’s him or you. Probably both. “Stop playing dumb. There’s no way you don’t know.”
“What?” A broken record. You sound like a broken record, but you have no idea how to stop. No idea how else you can possibly respond.
“The only reason I even started seeing her is because you didn’t want me!” he yells. 
Your brain whirrs, way too much information at once. “When did I ever say that?”
“You didn’t have to say it!” he spits, and now you’re crying. You don’t realize it, too caught up in the moment, but you definitely are, tears silently trekking down your face as you try to comprehend how in the hell you both got here. “You don’t have to say it, because you make it perfectly clear that this is all you want from me. And at first, I was more than happy to give it to you. But the more I have you, the more I want you. I want all of you, even if you’re only interested in certain pieces of me.” His breath is coming out too fast. He’s crying too. “I love you, and you insist that I hide it and pretend that I don’t!”
You’re stunned, struck completely dumb. Absolutely floored, flabbergasted.
“But if you want to leave, then fine.” He’s much quieter now, subdued. He sniffs, angrily wipes a hand across his face. “It’s probably for the best.”
But now, leaving is the furthest thing from your mind. Your brain is finally caching up, finally processing everything that he’s just said. 
“Say it again,” you finally reply, voice small. “I need to hear you say it again.”
“What?” he huffs. “That I want you?”
“No. How do you feel about me, Taehyung?” You’re moving closer to him, steps slow, slow, approaching not unlike you would a spooked animal. “I need to hear you say it again.”
His brows furrow. “I love you,” he repeats, the words full of irritation.
But that’s all you need to hear. The final shackle shattering, the last thing holding you back no more. Your hands find purchase in his shoulders, and though he eyes you warily, he doesn’t stop you when you rise on your toes and press your lips against his cheek.
“Again,” you murmur, hands drifting, fingers trailing into his hair. “Tell me again.”
His eyelashes flutter, distracted by the kiss you place on the underside of his jaw. “I love you.”
Unhurried, you adorn his skin with proof of your own devotion, kissing him every time he says it and even when he doesn’t. It’s only when he finally pulls back a little, a blatant question in his gaze, that you set free the words you’ve refused to utter.
“I love you too, you dummy.” 
That’s the cue he’s been waiting forever and ever for, and unlike you, he only needs to hear it once. Taehyung gently takes your overnight bag from your hands and tosses it uncaringly to the side. Despite his tender actions, the way he’s looking at you tells a completely different story.
He looks at you like you’re a delectable meal and he’s starving. Like he’s one sudden move from devouring you whole. 
And it sets everything in you alight.
His hands find your hips, then your ass, working the flesh as he kisses you, as he stumbles you towards his bed. And yours are just as frantic, utterly impatient in their quest to yank down his zipper and grip him through his underwear.
He lets you. Bucks into your hand until he’s nice and whiny and desperate. “Please,” he whimpers against your neck, whole body shuddering when you press a thumb into his slit. “Please let me inside you. Please let me feel you.”
“Shhh.” You shush him, catching his bottom lip in your teeth. You will never deny him, and he has to feel it. He has to know. “Always.”
But you can read between the lines, can understand exactly what he’s asking for. 
Know what he wants, what you both want.
Taehyung topples you both onto the bed, engulfs you with his body so that even if you tried to look anywhere else, he’s the only thing you can see. He kisses you and kisses you and kisses you. As if you’ll disappear the next time he blinks, as if he can’t get enough. He grinds his cock down hard against you, swallowing your gasps and working you both up to such a degree that you almost cum, just like that. Less than a minute, but you’ve been teetering on the edge for months, a bow taut and primed to snap.
The first push of him bare has you keening, has you scratching red marks down his back. And he’s no better, entire body vibrating and just flat out babbling when he finally feels the warm grip of you without a barrier. “So wet, feel so fucking good. So fucking good for me, baby, always so good.”
“Holy shit,” you gasp, desperately rocking your hips against his. Mouth slack as experience has him expertly hitting that spot inside you again and again that makes you see stars. “Oh my god—“
“So good, and mine. Mine,” he groans, and you’re not sure who he’s even talking to. He probably isn’t either, the velvet heat of you pulling words from his tongue, but after a particularly delicious thrust has you letting out a whine, you see the fog leave his eyes, just a little. Focus now entirely on you. “Whose pussy is this?” he asks, tone deceptively mild. But the way he’s circling his hips is understandably distracting, and when he realizes you’re already too fucked out to answer properly, he grabs you by the chin and leans his forehead against yours. Demands you answer him. “Who does this pussy belong to?” 
“You,” you pant out. “You. Yours. Always yours.” And as familiar as this all is, as many times as you’ve done these exact things over the months, it all feels achingly different this time. Somehow much more intense, somehow much more worshipful. 
Taehyung groans, his efforts doubling as his oncoming end has him starting to properly rail you deep into the mattress. Between his thumb pressing into your clit and his mouth laving attention across your neck, it doesn’t take long for you to be firmly pushed off the edge with a drawn-out moan, convulsing around him and easily dragging him with you. 
And, with two particularly rough thrusts that make the headboard rattle against the wall, he paints your insides a hot white.
You lay beneath him for a while, still contentedly stuffed full of him. Still gleefully receiving the kisses he hasn’t stopped peppering you with.
“There’s been no one else, you know,” he murmurs against your fevered skin. “Just you. Only you.”
Emotion blooms within you, seeping from your ribcage and trickling everywhere else. “And only you,” you say softly, his resulting smile so blinding and affectionate that you’re filled to the brim with love. Just completely overflowing with it, fighting the sudden burning behind your eyes. 
Tae doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t have to. Just presses his lips into the few tears that escape and holds you in the quiet.
Your fingers dance down the damp skin of his back, idle, as if memorizing every bump of his spine. But the peaceful moment is broken when a chance brush of against one of his asscheeks has him letting out a yelp, jolting at the unexpected sting. 
You snort out a laugh, unbidden. There’s definitely going to be a bruise later.
“It’s not funny,” he insists, smiling despite himself. His smile only widens as you keep laughing, unable to stop once you started. “I warned you I broke it—hey! I’m suffering over here, it’s not funny!”
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The voicemail sits, completely and utterly forgotten for a couple days.
To be honest, you both are a bit too busy with other…activities to pay it any mind.
“Hey Tae, It’s Jisoo. Um, I was hoping to catch you because I really didn’t want to do this over text or anything. But, um, while I’ve had a good time getting to know you, I think it might be best if we go our separate ways. If I’m being honest, I’m getting the sense that you’re not really interested in building anything between us anyway, and, frankly, I don’t want to waste any more of our time. I hope you find what you’re looking for. Happy New Year.”
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“Run me my money,” Jungkook says calmly, and you blink, completely unprepared for that response.
You’re at Seokjin’s again, your group of friends gathered together to bring in the new year. For some reason, you had found yourself a little nervous for this moment, a little nervous to tell your friends about you and Tae. Well, nervous isn’t quite right—restless might be a better word. Excited and restless. You hadn’t been completely sure how they would react when you finally dropped the bomb, but now, as you watch the rest of your friends reluctantly but dutifully pull out their wallets, you know this definitely hadn’t been on your list of possibilities.
Your jaw drops at the audacity. “I know you motherfuckers did not just bet on me.”
“No, no,” Hoseok assures you, and you feel better for just a moment until he continues, “We bet on both of you.”
What? What?!
Your head whips towards Taehyung, but he’s busy popping a mini quiche into his mouth and looking more amused than anything else. As if he had fully expected some light New Year’s gambling regarding your relationship status to occur.
“We’ve all just been waiting for the two of you to crack,” Namjoon admits, sourly slapping a few bills into Jungkook’s hand. “But we thought it would happen next year.”
“Not me!” Jungkook says gleefully. “Pay up, buttercup!”
Yoongi grumbles under his breath, shaking his head at you. He glances at the clock and back, expression simply oozing disappointment. “You couldn’t have waited fifteen minutes?” he sighs.
“Excuse me?” you balk, blood pressure steadily rising.
Wisely, Taehyung steps in front of you before your dumb friends who you love very much can get you riled up enough to start throwing hands. He’s laughing, and it’s warm. It’s right. And when he leans down to kiss you before the ball drops and during and forever after, you don’t care one bit about the obnoxious clapping and hooting that results.  
Hell, if you weren’t so preoccupied, you’d clap for your own damn self. 
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collab masterlist | my masterlist
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jungkxook · 9 months ago
—make it right. (m)
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⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader 
⟶ genre: punk!jungkook / band au / exes-to-lovers au / angst / smut
⟶ words: 11,528
⟶ rating: 18+ 
⟶ summary: you’re wholeheartedly, madly in love with jungkook and yet you shouldn’t be because it’s been almost a year since you broke up with him. worst part of it all is that you know he’s still in love with you too
⟶ warnings: jungkook has a tongue piercing, oral sex because of said tongue piercing (fem!recieving), more tattooed and long haired jungkook to feed my fantasies, angsty pining clingy sex, also just general soft sex, crying sex lol, riding, creampie, slight praise kink themes, unprotected sex
⟶ disclaimer: here’s my one year blog anniversary present inspired by the first ever fic i posted on here! yes this is technically a sequel to melomaniac but not really. sort of like an alternate universe to the alternate universe but you don’t really have to read one or the other to understand the other. so, i hope you enjoy!
⟶ this is part of the melodrama tour series!
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You swear you’re over Jungkook.
In fact, you would even go so far as to say you hate him ━ but you know that’s not true. It’s just that it’s much easier to believe that if you tell yourself you hate him enough times, then maybe you’ll find a way to fix your broken heart, and the pain in his absence won’t hurt so bad. 
As it turns out, it hardly works.
Seven months since he had left you to travel the world with his band, basking in promised eternal glory and fame and money, and yet even miles and oceans away from where you stand, he’s all you can think about. There’s a myriad of reasons as to why trying to forget him was an useless endeavour. The hardships of trying to forget a cherished life-long friendship you had grown accustomed to was one of them, and those lingering happy moments you had shared with him as lovers however fleeting they may be was another. But then there was the ever present fact that Jungkook and his band were so quick to rise to fame, their names far exceeding the seemingly cramped and small city you had both reigned from, and suddenly the boy you had known forever, and everything special that makes him, was now being shared to hundreds of millions of adoring fans.
You were certain it was all Jungkook ever wanted, the added attention and the pretty girls fawning over him, because he had always been a casanova in many ways despite always promising you that you were the only one for him even before you had started dating. You had told him it wouldn’t work ━ I trust you as my best friend, you had said in a moment of despair, grasping at straws. I don’t have to worry about you breaking my heart. But I don’t know if I can trust you as my boyfriend ━ far before he and his band had been signed to their record label and paraded around the world, when they were still practicing in rented storage units and friends’ garages and rundown local studios, playing gigs anywhere and everywhere from dingy bars to college campus parties, supporting him every step of the way if only because he was your best friend, and he had been so persistent that it would work, chasing after you even when you tried to push him away. I would treat you right, he had urged so ardently late one drunken night after stumbling back to his apartment. I already practically worship the ground you walk on.
And how could you ━ who had already been so madly in love with him but scared of him breaking your heart, scared of losing him, scared of this happening ━ ever resist him? He made love seem so easy, and maybe that’s because it was when you were with him. But now, he was no longer yours; now, he was the world’s, and you were nothing but a mere hazy fragmented memory in his mind, long forgotten, watching from the side of the stage much like you always had from the very start of it all.
“Hey, isn’t this that band?” Jihyo’s voice bursts through your wandering trail of thoughts.
It takes you a moment to recollect yourself, finding yourself not in the arms of an ex-lover or stuck in a bygone time of months past, but in the cosy and amiable café nearest your campus and frequented by a plethora of your fellow peers. You’re fortunate to find that your other group mates have also become sidetracked, trailing far from the assignment you were all supposed to be working on. Dahyun is perched beside you, chin nestled in the palm of her hand and elbow propped on the table as she scrolls aimlessly through her phone; Jihyo and Taeyong were sat across from you, gossiping fervently about some mutual friend of theirs. You hadn’t known the pair long enough to know much about them or the tragic affair of whoever Mina is for accepting her cheating boyfriend back for the second time, and, likewise, they seem oblivious to your own self-wallowing once you realize what’s caught Jihyo’s sudden attention.
You hear his voice first.
It’s easy to discern, even after all this time and even amongst the muffled chatter and clanking of porcelain and cutlery of those seated around you. The sweet, velvety lull of Jungkook singing throughout the café from the overhead speakers, pretty upbeat melodies and synths mixed with wistful words making up the song he had written for you before he left, before the fame and fans, as a way of telling you how he truly felt about you. It feels like a dream, and maybe that’s because it is, bringing you instantly to another time, and another world. You still remember him showing you the unfinished song for the very first time, curled up next to him in his living room, listening to him serenade you to sleep, humming in places where he hadn’t formed the words yet, strumming along with his acoustic. It was yours and his until he showed the world almost a year ago on their very first show at the Seoul Olympic Stadium in front of thousands of people, as a final desperate act of proclaiming his love for you after a disastrous attempt at a first date that he had begged from you. Just one, he pleaded. To prove it to you that I can be a good boyfriend. And if things don’t work out, we can pretend it never happened and just go back to being us. That’s a promise.
At the time, you had treasured the song. It was beautiful in every way, his love transcending his words and enveloping your heart in pure warmth.
Now, you hate it.
It’s the third time you’ve heard the song that day. Despite avoiding it as best as you could, it seems to find a way to make itself known in your daily life like the nagging nuisance it is. Because fate seemed to enjoy its sadistic behaviour of having the song be one of the main reasons Jungkook and his band had skyrocketed to fame in such a short span of time and, suddenly, Jungkook disappearing from your life meant little when his voice remained as a constant reminder of what could have been, what couldn’t have been, and what fell apart at the already fragile seams. And what was a proclamation of love to you turned into nothing but a fabled tale of lovers. You wonder if people who hear it ever think about where they’ve gone, or who they’ve turned into, or if their love was made to last. You wonder, above all else, if people ever think about it at all.
“Beyond the Scene, right?” Taeyong asks. He seems just as animated to be discussing the song as Jungkook’s voice fades into Jimin’s.
“God, I love this song. It’s so dreamy,” Jihyo lets out a longing sigh as she slumps against her seat. “Y’know, I’m seeing them this Friday. It’s their first time being back in, like, five months.”
“Dude, I’ve been trying to get tickets to see them for months now!” Taeyong gaps incredulously. “How’d you score them?”
“A friend of a friend knows the guy who plays keys,” Jihyo says. “The cute mysterious one.”
“Yoongi, right?”
As the pair dive into a passionate discussion about the boys and their first full-length album released under their recently-signed-to label from Columbia Records, you shift uncomfortably in your seat. Dahyun almost immediately straightens up, eyes flickering from the pair to you and back again. You’re both fortunate she’s there, having known your past with Jungkook, and despise it a little more, wondering what her pitying gaze must mean.
“Hey, Dahyun. Y/N.” Taeyong’s voice grabs your attention now. “What do you think of these guys? Didn’t some of them used to go to this school?”
“Yeah, I had a few classes with their drummer.” Dahyun waves her hand airly, swiftly brushing over the fact that she did far more than have a “few classes” with any of the boys but was also one of their closest friends. “I think they’re great━” She glances sideways at you one more time. “Hey, maybe we should get back to the assignment now━”
“I had a class with their lead guitarist, Jungkook, last year,” Jihyo continues, her excitement getting the best of her as Dahyun’s voice drowns out in the foreground.
“No way!” This dubious exclamation comes from Taeyong.
“I tried talking to him once but he totally blew me off,” Jihyo says. “Which is fine, because he’s still hot. If I had known he was gonna be a famous rockstar, I’d have tried asking him out a second time━”
Suddenly, you feel sick.
It’s odd to hear two strangers discuss Jungkook’s life while you’re seated across from them, as if you’re nothing more than an outsider to whoever Jungkook has become now. But you can’t stand it anymore. You’re certain you look insane to them when you push your seat back abruptly, the metal legs screeching against the floor as you stand.
“Whoa, what’s wrong━?” Taeyong starts to ask but you’re gone before he can finish the question, murmuring a half-hearted excuse about how you forgot you needed to be somewhere.
You’ve rounded on your heel and have fled from the café before anyone can try to stop you, with nothing but Jungkook’s mellifluous voice fading in the distance as he croons aloud for you in a time long since passed.
You don’t care. Besides, you’re sure Dahyun will cover for you.
The worst part of it all? The dreadful realization that sinks into your mind, and into your heart, beckons the question: who’s to say you aren’t a stranger now to Jungkook’s life altogether?
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“So, what are you trying to say?”
You remember the moment so clearly despite wanting nothing more than to forget it all, and the pain associated with it. Because even from then you knew you would always be in love with Jungkook, but you couldn’t have him. It’s hard to remember whose fault it is this time that caused the sudden fight, though random little arguments had been a frequent occurrence nearing the end of your one year relationship more often than not. You hate blaming it all on him, because you were certain you were at fault too. Maybe a little bit wary at times, a little selfish, wanting him all to yourself. Even though you knew he has an obligation to the world, it still hurt when he started making promises he couldn’t keep, blowing you off for soundchecks, or spontaneous interviews, or record label meetings. More and more you could feel the both of you drifting apart, maybe without even meaning for it to happen.
It was just that Jungkook was destined for a lifetime of greatness, and you were starting to think that meant without you.
You had stopped him late one night after he had stumbled home from his and the band’s nightly studio sessions as they worked through recording their debut album as a signed band. Lately, it seemed as if that was all that Jungkook cared about, and while you knew the band meant the world to him and you would always support him in his endeavour, you couldn’t help but feel lesser in comparison. That, and you hated seeing the boy overwork himself to the point of near exhaustion every night if only because their label was so adamant about having the album finished before the month ended.
“You want to, what? Break up?” Jungkook asked, this time more incredulously and less dumbfounded as he had initially been. He didn’t believe you just yet, but you couldn’t exactly tell what he was thinking anymore at that point.
“I just figured we could use some time apart,” You had suggested awkwardly. “Just a break.”
He had let out a breathless, disbelieving laugh. “Y/N, this is insane.”
You flinched. You remember having to look away, refusing to meet his suddenly sorrowful look. “Is it, Jungkook? I mean… Look at us. We’re falling apart. It was bound to happen eventually. We tried to make it work but maybe we’re on different paths now.”
“But I love you,” Jungkook gasped, exasperated. “Where is this coming from?”
“And I don’t want to have to tie you down for the rest of your life,” You continued on stubbornly, “or make you think you owe me your whole life just because you said you fell in love with me when you were thirteen━”
This seemed to catch Jungkook’s attention. He grew rigid in front of you, a look of wary agony contorting his face. “Is that what this is then? You don’t love me anymore?”
You didn’t respond immediately, instead the dread of the night seemed to finally catch up with you and you had grimaced. You had loved him even then, but the thought of voicing it aloud when you were supposed to be breaking up with him didn’t feel right. The tears began to swell in your throat and blur your vision. Jungkook must have noticed, because he always seems to spot the small things about you that even you miss. Almost instantly, the sour look on his face softened and his gaze turned helpless, with those big puppy-dog eyes that you’ve always been too fond of. He closed the distance between you at once, warm hands grabbing at your own.
“You do.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement. He knew you were still in love with him ━ or maybe he’d just been hopeful. “I know you do. So then why are you breaking up with me?” 
He let go of one of your hands to reach up to your face, calloused fingers gentle and soft against your cheek as they brushed away a rogue tear you hadn’t realized had fallen from your lashes. For a moment, you had let yourself get carried away. You leaned into the comforting heat and touch of his palm as he cradled your face.
“Don’t━” You choked out after a moment of silence, hating when your voice splintered into a sob. “Don’t touch me. Please, Jungkook. You’re only going to make this harder.”
His hands sprang away from your face almost at once, as if he had just been burnt by scalding fire. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and pull you into his arms but he had refrained the urge somehow, miraculously. So, instead, he grit his teeth and clenched his hands into fists as his arms fell limp at his sides.
“Then don’t do this. Don’t walk away,” Jungkook pleaded desperately. “I don’t understand. If you love me still, why are you making this harder for yourself?”
“Because what if that’s all we have in common anymore?” You asked wretchedly. “We care about each other. We always will. But you’re focused on the band, and this is my last year of school. Maybe we just need time to focus on ourselves.”
Jungkook blinked once. Twice. His stare was suddenly devoid of any emotion as he gawked at you, but you could tell that he was hurting. It was there in the fluttering of nerves in his jaw; there, in the way his lips pulled taut into a thin line; there, in the way even you could see his eyes begin to shimmer with wet tears that he unabashedly displays without trying to wipe away.
“So that’s it?” he asked. “After everything we’ve been through. You’re just gonna end it, like that? Y/N, come on━”
His hands had found purchase on your waist, and you had lingered for a moment too long; then, fumbling, he tried to grab delicately at your face, probing you to look at him. But you couldn’t. The moment you met his wounded gaze, you shook your head furiously. You had slithered out of his grasp, slipping through the seams of his fingers just like that.
“I━” You paused. “This isn’t some spur of the moment decision, Jungkook. How can you not see it? I’ve felt so alone these past few months. It’s like you’re here but not entirely. Your mind is always somewhere else, always thinking about the band and never about us.”
“What am I supposed to do?” he had asked hotly. “The band is my everything.”
“And what am I?” You asked. The question only mildly offended you, a shot right to your heart. Because if the band was his everything, what were you in comparison? “A distraction until you get everything you want? I can’t keep being that.”
“No!” he protested. “You’re not a distraction. You’re━” He stopped himself short, brows furrowing. “You can’t keep pinning this all on me. You just don’t trust me, do you? You never did. Always thinking I’m with some other girl when I’m not with you━”
“That’s not true,” You admonished.
“Isn’t it?” Jungkook retaliated.
“I don’t want to hear it,” You had said at once. Your tone was final, a decisive ending to your argument with him. “My mind’s already been made up, Jungkook. I don’t think we should see each other again until we sort all this out ━ or, until you sort out whatever your priorities are.”
Jungkook’s stare had hardened, a frown deeply etching into his face. He had straightened up then, perplexed and upset with your standoffish demeanour, as if thinking this surely meant nothing to you. But little did he know this would become one of the hardest decisions you would have to make.
“Fine,” he said rigidly. “If that’s how it is, then I’m gone. You’ll never have to see me again.”
You hadn’t known at the time just how terribly you had messed up ━ neither had Jungkook. He had left before you could stop him, or before either of you could change your minds. Because nothing’s worse than a broken heart, blinded by stubborn and defensive rage. Accusatory fingers and blaming him or you wouldn’t heal the wounds that had already formed, and ending things seemed to only make it worse, months of lonely heartache without Jungkook to further prove just that…
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The last time you spoke to Jungkook, you told him you never wanted to see him again ━ or, at least, that seems to be how he interpreted it.
Now, you were standing in the midst of his domain, surrounded by everyone in his public sphere of friends and colleagues and acquaintances, and there was certainly no way of escaping him.
You were starting to think you’re losing mind, because you’d truly have to be insane to have worked up the nerve to agree to go with Dahyun to a party being held celebrating the band’s recent tremendous success and headlining their first world tour. Their manager, Jin, had personally reached out to you and Dahyun, calling you as a means of asking you to attend, though you had given him a timid and dismissive response at first. If it hadn’t been for Dahyun purposely and almost quite literally dragging you out under the premise that “even if you don’t want to see Jungkook, you at least owe it to the boys to go,” you don’t think you’d even be here. But while you didn’t know where you stood with Jungkook anymore, that didn’t mean you weren’t still proud of him or the rest of the boys. It just became harder to bask in their success with them when you had gone from knowing every detail of their lives, of Jungkook’s life, to knowing only what you could hear from gossiping fans around you, or plastered in tabloids, or all over any form of social media.
The party is held at some sort of fancy lavish restaurant, the entire back room rented out by the band’s record label and management, and is filled with dozens of people you don’t know. Fortunately, you and Dahyun aren’t left alone for very long, as an elated Jin and Jimin, the appointed lead singer, bustle their way through the crowd to you almost as soon as you arrive, leaving very little time for you to feel so awkward that you consider running away again. Jimin, in all his spritely and extravagant blue haired disposition, wastes no time in engulfing you both in a comforting hug as if months hadn’t passed since you’ve last seen them.
“Glad you guys could make it!” Jin smiles from over Jimin’s shoulder.
“It’s been forever,” Jimin affirms.
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Dahyun says. “I’m surprised you guys didn’t forget about us, considering you’re big rockstars now.”
“Rockstar is a bit of an overstatement.” An effortlessly charming smirk unfurls on Jimin’s face, which seems to immediately dazzle Dahyun. “Besides, we could never forget you. Hey, come with me to find the guys. I think we could all use some time to catch up━”
He places his hand on the small of Dahyun’s back as he guides her away, leaving you with Jin. A moment of silence passes, in which time you can feel the boy’s eyes lingering on you.
“He knows you’re coming tonight, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Jin says carefully, treading over his words lightly. It’s too painfully obvious who he’s talking about, though you’re fortunate he doesn’t bother mentioning Jungkook’s name anyway. “There’s no point in hiding. I think you should talk to him.”
“I━” You trail off uselessly, your voice croaking. Fearing an imminent breakdown, you shake your head. Then, holding your chin a little higher, Jin’s startled to hear you pretend as if he hadn’t said anything. “It really is good to see you guys again. If you’ll excuse me, I think I need a drink.”
And you’re gone once more before he can say anything else. On your lonesome, you find refuge at the bar, though you only order water because you’re certain you won’t be able to stomach anything stronger. You don’t know how long you spend there, blankly staring at a spot on the wall as your mind wanders everywhere and yet nowhere at all until━
There it is again. The familiar sound of his voice, only this time it’s much more attainable, closer to your world and not elsewhere so high in the clouds like a hopeful dream. You brace yourself before turning to face him.
This close, Jungkook looks breathtakingly and painfully beautiful.
As always, he’s adorned in all black, the first few buttons of the silky blouse he’s wearing left undone so that it teases the exposed flesh of his collarbones and the rose tattoo that inks his chest, the thorny stems crawling up the side of his neck just below his ear, accompanied by a pair of leather pants. He’s the same as ever. The same imperfect tattoos that decorate his fingers and arms that you’ve always loved, the same ring-clad fingers painted a chipped black, the same hoop accentuating his button nose. His hair is still his natural dark ebony color (something he’s seemed to stick with much more as of late despite dyeing it wild colours throughout his past), only it’s a little longer than you last remembered, and the sides of his head are shaved in the form of an undercut. You’re foolishly surprised to find he still looks the same, but almost a year away from someone can both change nothing and yet everything all at once.
“Jungkook…” You want to say something more, but your words fall short.
It’s hard to tell if he’s angry or upset at seeing you there, but you don’t think he’s either, and you have an inkling of a thought that he purposely sought you out amongst the many faces. Instead, he looks hesitant, apprehensive, as if dreading how you’ll respond to see him. As if you’ll yell at him, push him away. You do neither, fortunately.
Just when the dense silence starts to become almost unbearable, Jungkook clears his throat. “I━ Wow… You look great.”
You blink once, a flustered blush warming your face that you hope he doesn’t notice. “Oh. Thank you. You do, too.”
His eyes flicker over your presence as he nods absentmindedly. Then, he’s offering you a pretty smile, soft and sweet in nature. No malice, or ill-intent. “Um━ How have you been?”
You hate this. You hate the awkward pauses, the prolonged periods of silence. A year ago, even despite knowingly pining for one another, your moments alone with Jungkook were never so terrible. He always found a way to say something cheekily flirtatious even when you were just friends, if only because he knew it would make you blush and giggle because, no matter how many times you would roll your eyes or nudge his sides, he also knew you secretly loved it. All the inside jokes, the milestones shared together, the ardent fleeting touches ━ where did it all go? And while you were both noticeably trying to maintain the peace and pleasantry between one another, it didn’t feel the same. It felt forced, fake. Distracted.
“I’ve been good,” You lie. “How about you? Actually, don’t answer that━” You let out a breathless chuckle. “You’ve clearly been doing amazing. I mean, your album, and your world tour. And tomorrow you’ve got a big day with the hometown show. I heard it sold out in the first ten minutes.”
“Something like that,” Jungkook says modestly. “It’s been kind of crazy. Namjoon says it’s good, but I miss━ I just miss a lot of how it used to be. The slow pace. I dunno. The quick burn up is quick to burn out, right?”
“Maybe,” You admit. “But I think you’ve all got it in you. You’ve worked so hard for this moment. Enjoy it while you’re in it. You deserve it, Jungkook.”
His stare softens as it meets yours. “Thanks.”
Another beat of silence passes. He looks as if he’s warring with himself, as if he’s fighting the urge to say something more, gnawing at his lower lip, brows knitting together.
“Yo, Jeon!” A foreign voice from amongst the crowd beckons aloud abruptly for the boy.
Jungkook glances over his shoulder swiftly in search of the source, then waves his hand as if to motion he’ll be there later. Then, he turns back to you. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s okay. I won’t keep you,” You say. “I know you’re busy.”
“But━” He stops himself, his jaw clamping shut. Changing his mind, he decides to ask hopefully, “Will you be at the show tomorrow?”
“Of course.” The affirmation seems to relieve him, even though it’s a spontaneous decision made by you on the spot. Before this moment, you hadn’t been so sure you could go.
You can’t help but shake your head, a chuckle slipping past your lips at the innocent boyish question he asks. “Yes, Jungkook.”
His smile widens a little more, however sheepish it may be. “Then can you promise me one more thing?”
“What?” You quirk a brow, intrigued to say the least.
“Will you drop by the hotel we’re staying at tomorrow morning, so I can take you out for a coffee? Just to catch up. It’s been a while,” he says timidly. Then, feeling a little stupid for being so bold, scrambles to explain himself. “And no pressure if you don’t want to. I just thought━”
You can’t possibly say no. Not when it comes to Jungkook, all your past struggles seemingly vanishing without a trace. “I’d like that a lot, Jungkook.”
Then he’s positively beaming, his self-indulgent grin making your own heart flutter in your chest. When he leaves your side that night, you find yourself looking forward to the future perhaps a little too optimistically. But how terrible could grabbing coffee with your ex be, if you had survived the first wretched encounter?
So, in the morning when you wake, there’s not a stutter in your step or a wavering flicker of your confidence as you make your way to the Four Seasons hotel Jungkook had told you to from the night before. In fact, a selfish part of you almost thinks that maybe things will start to look up. That maybe you and Jungkook can finally make amends. That maybe you never had a reason to fear Jungkook breaking your heart if he made such an effort to heal it.
The hotel itself is one of the most luxurious ones in Seoul, a considerable contrast from when the boys were slumming it on friends’ couches and in their run-down van touring the country. The room Jungkook tells you to meet him at is one of the hotel’s grand suites, located on the higher levels of the building. But as soon as you reach the landing and have begun making your way towards the designated door, it flings open and a pretty girl comes stumbling out. She’s giggling at something that has just happened inside, her hair a dishevelled mess which she ruffles up in an attempt to fix it. She’s adorned in a pretty little dress, the skirt of which is hiked a little higher up and one strap falling down her shoulder, as she clings her shoes and bag to her chest. She smiles at you on the way past, though she’s too far gone in her own little daze that you wonder if she even notices you at all.
But you certainly notice her, and, all at once, your reverie of him and what could be comes crashing to the ground once more.
Maybe you should have stayed, should have waited for Jungkook to let him explain, but you were too afraid to hear an answer you weren’t looking for. You try desperately not to imagine Jungkook loving someone else. You try not to think about him holding her the same way he held you, his lips finding purchase on some other girl. But by trying to avoid the thought, it beckons the unwarranted memories of how it felt to be loved all over by him once upon a time. You wonder how many girls he’s hooked up with in your time apart, and the overwhelming sense of regret washes over you.
You don’t bother to wait. You know fleeing is the easiest option rather than facing your fear, but you’re far too timid of rejection again. Instead, even before you can approach Jungkook’s hotel room and knock on the door, you turn on your heels and run.
You’re long gone by the time Jungkook comes to the door, prying it open in search of you on a whim. When he doesn’t see you, he glances up and down the hallway but to no avail. Namjoon comes slinking past inside then in his own disoriented haze, having just woken up from moments ago when the girl he had taken back to their room the night before left. Even then, Jungkook had warned the rhythm guitarist against bringing the girl back, pointing out the fact that they had much to do today ahead of their concert. Namjoon had promised it wouldn’t be long, that she would be gone in the morning, and Jungkook was fortunate enough that the suite had two separate bedrooms on the opposite ends of one another so that Jungkook didn’t have to hear whatever it was the pair were doing in the other.
“Did Mina leave?” Namjoon asks through a yawn, digging the heels of his palms into his tired eyes. When Jungkook nods, a sliver of a reminiscent smug grin tugs at Namjoon’s lips. “You missed out, Jungkook.”
The cheeky quip is met with a roll of Jungkook’s eyes. “I’m sure I’ll survive. You know I’m not like that.”
Like that━ As in midnight hook-ups and cheap thrills alike. He tried it once, far ago when you had first broken up with him, on a drunken spur of a moment as a way of healing the anguish in his heart. It hadn’t worked then; he assumed it would never work.
Namjoon seems to understand this immediately. He gives Jungkook a look that the boy doesn’t notice. “Well… is Y/N here yet?”
“No. But I’m sure she’ll be here,” Jungkook grimaces. He hopes. “Something probably came up.”
Namjoon clasps a reassuring hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, humming aloud, “Good luck, dude.”
But you never arrive, even though Jungkook waits for most of the morning, nervous eyes flickering to the door at every commotion outside, running to check only to see room service delivering breakfast or concierge showing guests to their rooms. He has no choice but to give up on the thought of you coming when Jin knocks on their door, prompting the boys to get a start on their day. Interviews and soundcheck await, but how could he possibly go on with his life without knowing what happened to you?
Which is why you stay on his mind for the rest of the day, distracting him in every aspect, mixing up his words when he’s in the midst of his interview, tripping up on stage as the boys set up and begin to rehearse. As the hours wane down to just an hour before the show, the thought of performing in front of thousands of fans starts to make him nervous and he doesn’t know why. He’s done this countless times before, almost nightly during the tour, so what stops him now? Of course he knows the answer, had grown all too accustomed to the feeling the first few months in which the break up had been so recent. It would always be about you.
But just before the show starts, Jungkook is making his way backstage from the greenroom, where the band had been waiting, to the stage. Fiddling with his in-ear piece, he almost doesn’t notice you and Dahyun weaving your way through the roadies and sound tech, being guided by Jin to the pit on the side of the stage where only family and friends are allowed. You don’t see him, and there’s a split moment where he thinks he should just let you go, until he doesn’t.
As he makes his way to you, the tour manager for the band intervenes part way, shouting out to the boy. “Where are you going? We’re on in five, Jungkook!”
“Yeah, I’ll be right back━” He waves the manager off as politely as he can, wasting no time to chase after you. He calls out your name, though it drowns out in the sound of the music being blasted through the speakers of the arena and the screaming fans. “Y/N, wait up!”
He’s relieved when he sees you stop in your tracks, turning to face him as Dahyun and Jin become lost in the chaos of the backstage. He comes to stand just before you, smiling breathlessly at you, unaware of the way your shoulders tense at the sight of him.
“You didn’t show up this morning,” he says as a way of greeting, his voice a curious prob. “What happened?”
You try desperately not to get lost in his big beautiful eyes, laced with such hope. Instead, you fold your arms over your chest, looking away. “Something came up.”
It’s then that Jungkook senses something is wrong. You’re upset with him, though he can’t tell why. Aside from the obvious rift in your relationship that had initially split you two up, you had been so pleasant to see him the night before. But he doesn’t give up just yet. “Well… you’re here now.”
You meet his gaze with your own hardened one. “For the boys.”
A shot right to his heart almost makes Jungkook gasp for air. He flinches, and then his stare softens, and you wish he wouldn’t look at you like that, out of fear that you might just relapse into his arms.
“What’s wrong?” He closes the distance between the two of you. He wants nothing more than to reach out and touch you, but refrains with much difficulty. There’s dozens of things that could be wrong, and he braces himself for your retaliation. “You didn’t want to come, did you?”
When you don’t respond, but also don’t stray from his side, Jungkook hurries to speak again if only to fill the tense silence.
“Look, last night… Maybe it was just me, but last night seemed like things were okay,” he says. “Was I wrong to feel that way?”
“Please, just let me know,” he begs. “Because you’re all I can think about these days, it’s driving me crazy. And I don’t know what’s going on, but the reason I wanted to see you this morning was because I hate how things ended between us, and I wanted to tell you…” He swallows nervously as he trails off uncertainly. “I wanted to tell you that I’m still in love with you. And I can’t get you out of my head. These months away from you made me realize that I━”
Suddenly, you’re shaking your head and he knows you don’t believe him. As soon as the words leave his mouth, he regrets saying it, if only because they seem to enliven you. Now, you push yourself away from the boy. “I’m not doing this right now. You’re not doing this right now.”
As if to further your point, the band’s tour manager can be heard calling out frantically for the boy. “Two minutes, Jungkook!”
But Jungkook is hardly paying attention now, instead solely focused on you. “Please, Y/N━”
“No, you don’t get to say that to me,” You admonish hotly. You can’t bite the words back, no matter how hard you try. “You don’t love me. You think you love me, but you don’t.”
His jaw clenches, and his brows furrow into a frustrated stare. “I do.”
“You don’t.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Stop.” The harsh word makes Jungkook clamp his mouth shut. You shake your head furiously, but you know it’s only to distract yourself so that you don’t let the tears fall. “You’re being selfish, Jungkook. You don’t get to take all of me, love all of me, and leave, only to come back months later and pretend you’re still in love with me. And whatever this━” You gesture vaguely between the two of you, “is, or was, doesn’t exist anymore. We both need to stop pretending otherwise.”
Jungkook winces, eyes tinged with pain. “You don’t mean that.”
You don’t respond. Elsewhere, his tour manager starts to grow impatient, scolding the boy aloud, “Jungkook, we’re gonna be late. Hurry up!”
“Yeah, I’ll be there!” Jungkook calls back, irritated. Maybe he is being selfish. He’s wasting precious time by not leaving, all the hard work that the crew put into tonight’s show, and the fans awaiting his and the band’s arrival. He can still hear the crowd, this time their buzzing voices amalgamating into unanimous chanting muffled by the walls that sounds akin to the band’s name.
“You should go,” You say now. “Don’t wanna disappoint them.”
But he’d throw it all away for you if you told him to. He promised you that even before he had left for tour, before the band had been signed. Had you forgotten? Because he surely hadn’t.
“Good luck out there.”
Then, you’re gone before Jungkook can even make a move to stop you ━ but even if he did, what could he do to make you stay? The feat seemed impossible, and you always seem to find a way to slip from his grasp no matter what he does. Only this time he has no choice but to let you go, out of fear of being berated further by his tour manager or angering the boys so much to the point where he gets kicked out of the band.
He makes it on stage in time, the band filing out to take their places one at a time, deafening screams blowing out their in-ear pieces that stand no chance as each member joins the stage. The lights fizzle out until complete darkness cloaks the venue, but Jungkook still looks for you. He finds you in the pit on the side of the stage, Jin and Dahyun standing beside you, and finds it hard to keep his eyes off of you even though you attempt to pretend as if he’s not even there.
After their first adrenaline-filled opening song of the night, Jimin takes to the microphone to greet the crowd who scream back an indiscernible shout as, elsewhere, you notice Jungkook pry himself away from the microphone stand on his side of the stage to wave the rest of the boys over to Hoseok’s drum kit. They murmur amongst themselves briefly, though they go unnoticed by Jimin or the crowd as the lead singer entertains them.
“Seoul! It’s good to be back. We’ve missed you all so much━”
Jimin’s words get cut short when Jungkook, having just parted ways with the rest of his members for their impromptu meeting, beckons the lead singer over, out of range of the microphone. They seem to discuss something just as shortly as Jungkook had talked with the rest of the boys, in which time Jimin nods understandingly, then steps away from the microphone. Then, Jungkook takes to the microphone, the rings on his fingers glistening under the spotlight as he grips the stand.
“I know the night’s only getting started,” Jungkook’s voice wavers as he speaks, “but we’re gonna slow things down for a moment. We hope you don’t mind.”
Intrigued murmurs echo around the crowd, suddenly buzzing with excitement as they watch Jungkook with eager eyes. A few encouraging bellows has Jungkook smiling smally. Jin, on the other hand, looks perplexed.
“What is he doing?” Jin asks no one in particular, a quizzical look on his face. “This isn’t part of their set.”
“I think a lot of you might know this next song,” Jungkook continues, “but I don’t think I’ve ever expressed how much it means to me. This next one, I wrote for a special someone, and it sort of helped us achieve all of this. So, I think it’s time that person knows how much they mean to me.”
Jungkook glances nervously over at the boys standing behind him, each in their own respective spots. Then, sweeping his gaze across the crowd, he finally finds you already staring up at him. His own eyes soften into a look of longing, however hardened by past tribulations and sorrow it may be. As if he’s determined not to lose you again; determined to make it up to you.
“This next one is for Y/N,” he says timidly. He has to turn away from you in the next second, afraid he might just break down before the fans and the boys and you. “I’m sorry I messed up.”
As the boys take their place, with Jimin taking an acoustic and fading back from the limelight, you wonder why. But then you hear it, the familiar beginning chords making up the song you had so wholeheartedly claimed you hated. Only this time they’re gentler, made up of acoustic strums of a guitar, Hoseok’s drums, and Yoongi’s keys, all amalgamating into a pretty song almost unrecognizable.
Then, Jungkook starts singing, and what was once a wistful dreamy song of prospective lovers suddenly turns into a melancholic requiem for you. Some lyrics are changed, present tense turning to the past, and Jungkook sings his way throughout the entirety of the song in contrast to the one that plays all over the radio featuring the other member’s voices. The fans sing along, their voices melding with Jungkook’s into some sort of celestial mellifluous choir, and you’re left no longer wondering if the fans would ever know the meaning behind the song that Jungkook had brought to life. Because now, it wasn’t just Jungkook singing to you; it was the whole world. And yet, paradoxically at the same time, it felt all that much more intimate. As if it were just you and him once again, seated on the couch in his small apartment, listening to the beginnings of what would be their number one selling song.
Above all else, you realize that you don’t seem to hate the song as much you claimed to.
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That night, you can’t sleep.
You find yourself leaving the venue earlier than everyone else, even when the boys invite you and Dahyun to join them for celebratory drinks, returning to your home in the hopes of forgetting the night altogether. Instead, you stay up tossing and turning, your mind filled with memories consisting of only Jungkook and his haunting voice singing to you, and for you. But at some point during the night nearing one or two in the morning, just when you give up on the idea of sleep, the sound of incessant knocking at your front door rouses you from your trance.
When you finally answer the door, you’re more than surprised to see that Jungkook stands on the other side of the threshold as if coming to you from a dream. But then you register the fact that he’s a complete mess. Dark circles line his weary eyes, now smudged with that faint hint of charcoal liner he had worn for the concert, hair so messily mused beyond repair, and you notice quickly that he’s crying, fresh tears glazing over his pupils and streaking down his face. It’s startling to see him in such shambles, a complete contrast to how effortlessly charming and confident he usually portrays himself. But though you’ve seen him cry before on various occasions, now is all the more unsettling.
“I━I’m sorry.” It’s the first thing he says, screwing his eyes shut tightly as he shakes his head. He fumbles over his words, slurring them together in his rush to get them out. “I know I’m probably the last person you want to see right now, but I needed to see you.”
“Are you drunk?”
“No, no, I swear━” He pries his eyes open to meet your desolate stare, tears unabashedly falling from his lashes. His voice thins with desperation. “You said we need to stop pretending, but I’m not pretending. I never have been. And if you think ━ if you truly believe ━ that there’s nothing here between us anymore… Tell me. Right here, right now. And I’ll leave you alone forever, you’ll never have to see me again. I just━ I’ve missed you every moment and it kills me.”
You’re silent for a long period, pitying gaze sweeping over him, but he doesn’t care if he looks insane. He just needs you to know how he feels.
“Well, how do you think I felt?” You ask the question carefully, but then the memories come flooding back and the semblance of a scowl forms on your face. “You leave and suddenly everywhere I look I see you. Your song is playing everywhere, you and the guys are everywhere, and I’m reminded every day about how we ended. About how you left me.”
Jungkook blinks. He shakes his head stubbornly, the nerves in the corner of his jaw fluttering as he grits his teeth. “You were the one who said we should take a break.”
“A break!” You snap sternly. “Fuck, Jungkook. I didn’t want you out of my life forever. I wanted you to fight for me.”
“No, don’t put this all on me,” Jungkook pleads helplessly. “I have always fought for you. But the minute things got rough, you bailed. You told me you never wanted to see me again. What the hell was I supposed to do?”
“I was scared!” You try to swallow the tears away that start to form as a lump in your throat but to no avail. “I was, and I still am, so fucking scared of losing you. And you━ It felt like you gave me no choice. Like you were over it. I would have wanted to make things work but you left. You just… You left, and suddenly it was like you were never in my life at all. Seven months, and I get no word from you.”
“I fucked up, okay!” He cries out so suddenly, it silences you at once. He bites at his lip, and straightens up half-heartedly, running a hand through his hair. When he meets your stare this time, he’s zealous yet sincere. “I know that I messed up. I know. And it fucking kills me every single day. I don’t know where it went wrong, but it did, and I know it’s all my fault. When you said we should take a break and I agreed, I was only thinking about you. Because I knew I was disappointing you every day, and I was afraid that was all I would ever do, and you don’t deserve that. I thought it would be better this way, if I was just gone from your life for good. But I can’t forget you.”
“How can I trust you?” You ask. When his pained stare gawks at you, you tilt your chin a little higher. “I came by your hotel room yesterday morning, just like you asked, only to see that girl leaving.”
Jungkook’s gawk turns into a dumbfounded expression. He looks weary as he shakes his head, as if struggling to keep up with the way you accuse him now. He tries not to focus on the fact that you actually came to the hotel, then feels inconsolably terrible when he realizes why he never got to see you. “That girl was Namjoon’s fling. We were sharing the suite, and they were in a whole other room. I didn’t even think about her━”
Your stare droops from him, and he knows he’s struggling to keep you on his side.
“Okay, fine. You want trust? I’ll give it to you,” he says. A newfound sense of confidence seems to possess him, though he approaches the topic with extra caution anyway. “After we broke up, I was crushed. I couldn’t move on from you, and the guys thought I should get drunk, find a random girl to bring back to our hotel one night on tour. And I listened, because I wanted to forget you, but it didn’t work. All I could think about was you. Every time she touched me, every time she kissed me, I could only imagine it was you. And when she left that night, I broke down because I felt like such a fucking idiot. I instantly regretted it. Like, even though you and I weren’t together, I still did something to hurt you by sleeping with that girl. And all it did was hurt me too in the process.”
He pushes himself forward, taking a step over the threshold. Even despite him admitting his wrongs to you, you can’t find it in yourself to hate him. Because, at the end of it all, he’s here at your doorstep, pleading for you to forgive him, but he had already won the moment your eyes had landed on him.
“You’re the reason I am who I am today.” His voice is hoarse when he speaks, almost in a whisper. “That I get to do what I love for a living. But all of it means nothing without you. You saw me at my worst, and my best. And you were the best I ever had, and I ruined it, and the worst part of it all is that there’s nothing I can do to make up for it. But I promise I can make it better ━ I can make it right again ━ if you just give me a chance.”
There’s a short pause filled with poignant silence in which Jungkook thinks you’ll push him away or scream at him. He’s fortunate when you do neither; instead, he hears you whisper faintly.
“Kiss me, Jungkook.”
And it’s more than enough for him. His heart thrums in delight as he wastes no time in reaching out for you. His hands are warm as they come to grasp at your face, holding you delicately; then he’s leaning in to you, drawing you closer and closer until his lips are pressed against yours. It’s unadulterated, but not without feverish passion, noses smushing together in both your eager hastiness to close the distance between the two of you. It doesn’t last long either, though that’s partly because Jungkook can taste your tears mingling on your lips, and can feel your faint smile form against his mouth. Kissing him feels both foreign yet familiar at the same time. You know the feel, the taste, and the sense of comfort that comes with it, but months apart from one another has left it feeling different.
Jungkook’s thumb wipes away at the tears on your face. “Why are you crying?”
It’s a useless question, he knows, but he needs something to fill the silence. He’s relieved when he hears you snicker. “Because I miss you, you idiot. And I’m sorry I’ve been acting like such an idiot. I’ve messed everything up.”
His own shoulders quiver with contented mirth. “It’ll be okay.” As he leans in once more for another kiss, you can feel him murmur against your mouth, “I promise I’ll make it up to you.”
“Then make it right,” You say, “right here and now.”
“I’ll do anything for you,” he promises earnestly.
Jungkook understands the underlying yearning in your voice even without having you explain yourself. He knows, if only because he can feel it too. As his hands fall to your waist, fingers digging into your skin, your own arms wrap around his neck and pull him into your apartment. He has you pressed up against the nearest wall within seconds, kissing at your throat, then up to your jawline.
“It’s been so long,” he sighs.
You hum in agreement, though your mind is already spinning, and all you can muster is a weak yet urgent croak of his name. “Jungkook.”
Your fingers thread through his hair, tugging at the roots and he croons with delight. His lips finally meet yours again, only this time he lets his tongue lav at your lower lip. Almost as soon as he does so, you notice something strange. It takes a moment for you to register the small metallic object that grazes your lower lip but when you do, you pull away from the boy.
“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks in a confused dazed.
“Is that…” You rasp. “Did you get your tongue pierced?”
Suddenly, Jungkook is smirking, one brow shooting up to his hairline in a smug demeanour. He sticks out his tongue for you to see the silver ball poking through and you almost moan at the sight of it as the thought entices you.
“Oh.” Your face warms with a flustered blush. “That’s new.”
“Yeah,” he says. “Always wanted to get it done. Guess I was saving it for the right moment.”
“Right moment, huh?” You scoff as if the implications don’t already have your thighs rubbing together. “Care to explain?”
“I think you’ll find out soon enough.”
You dissolve into a fit of giggles, marvelling at the way Jungkook’s familiar flirtatious bantering can soothe your troubled heart at once. It’s almost as if time hasn’t lapsed between the two of you.
“I’ve missed this,” You sigh. “I’ve missed you, Jungkook.”
You spot him smiling before he’s kissing you again, this time his tongue slipping past your parted lips to meet yours midway. The piercing is strange to adjust to, but you get used to it quickly, humming at the feeling of it against the soft flesh of your tongue. It’s easy to get lost in one another’s lips as you pull and tug at Jungkook, guiding him to your bedroom, nearly tripping and stumbling over one another in the process. He knows the path like the back of his hand, the same way he knows every curve and dimple of your body as his greedy hands explore you. He has you sprawled out beneath him on the bed in a matter of seconds, carelessly shedding each other of your clothes until you’re left naked and he’s without a shirt.
As he’s tugging off the hoodie you’re wearing, he realizes two things abruptly. One: you’re not wearing anything beneath it, your bare body dazzling him at once. And, two: a sudden thought jogs his memory that makes him ponder aloud, “Is this my sweater?”
“Yes,” You admit sheepishly.
He smirks. “Was wondering where it went.”
“You forgot to take it back when…” You don’t finish your sentence. Instead, you tug your fingers at the hair at the nape of his neck, as if scared he’ll leave again. He doesn’t. Instead, he nestles his body between your legs, tonguing patterns on your neck. “I wear it sometimes, especially when I’m missing you. I don’t know… It just━ It still smells like you, even after all this time.”
Jungkook’s heart nearly implodes. He wonders briefly if he’d prefer fucking you without or with the hoodie; but then he’s letting himself time to study your naked body and he deduces he needs to gaze at you in your entirety a little longer.
“Keep talking,” he murmurs. He starts kissing down your body now, starting from your throat to your collarbones, between the valley of your breasts, then your navel. “Tell me more. How badly did you miss me?”
“So badly,” You whimper. Your legs instinctively part to make way for him as he shifts downward, kissing just above your core. A shudder runs down your spine when he kisses the inside of your thigh. “Sometimes I’d put your sweater on and touch myself to the thought of you.”
He grunts against you, teeth softly biting at your flesh. His tongue pokes against your thigh, the metallic piercing a dully cold sensation as he licks upward to your core. He laps at your folds, as if to taste the glistening cum that starts to form.
Your breath audibly hitches in your throat, hips jutting forward to meet his mouth. “I missed your hands, and the way they made me feel. Missed your mouth between my legs. Missed cumming on your tongue, or your fingers.”
Now, you’re starting to understand what he meant by waiting for the right moment to use the piercing to its fullest potential. As he lifts his head higher to tongue at your clit, the piercing makes your head spin. The contrast between his soft tongue and the harsh metal works wonders against you, rubbing you just the right way that has you a moaning mess beneath him within a matter of seconds.
“Fuck━” You cry out, hands twisting in his hair. “My hands never feel the same. You always made me feel so good, Jungkook.”
He hums something in response, the sound reverberating up your spine. He busies himself by replacing his tongue with his finger, rubbing small, controlled circles against your clit as he lowers his mouth to your folds. He teases the piercing against the sensitive flesh before lapping at your insides, burrowing further into you.
“Ooh, Jungkook━”
The noise that eclipses your throat is a piqued sob of delight. The piercing that scratches against your walls has your insides throbbing, body twisting and turning beneath him. You grab at your breasts, fingers pinching at the perked buds as you imagine Jungkook’s hands in replace of yours.
His mouth wraps just right around you and he sucks hard, earning a beautiful moan from you. It doesn’t take long for you to draw closer to your high, sputtering and whimpering at every action he does. Soon he’s burrowing his face even closer against your core, nose nudging against your clit in a way that makes you writhe and squirm. Before he can get carried away (and he certainly could), Jungkook decides to come to a stop which seems to thoroughly surprise and upset you. When you feel his missing warmth between your legs and the sticky wet mess accentuated further by the cool air that hits you, you pout like a child.
“That’s not fair,” you whine.
“Sorry, baby. Need to feel you.” He pulls away from you and crawls over your body once more. He kisses your lips, sloppy and heated, and lets you taste your own succulence on your tongue. “God, I need to feel you so bad.”
You’re just as much startled as you were seconds ago to hear the slight whine in his voice, a sound hot enough to almost push you over the edge.
“I’ve missed you too, just so you know,” he moans, burrowing his face in the crook of your neck. Your fingers continue to scratch delicately at his scalp and he simpers delightfully against you. He ruts his hips eagerly against yours, the bulge in his pants rough against your core. “So fucking much.”
“How much?” Now it’s your turn to ask, your curiosity getting the best of you once you find your voice.
“Every day,” he sighs as he continues to grind his hips into yours. “Get so hard at the thought of you. Your pretty mouth moaning my name. Your hands in my hair, just like this━” You pull a little tighter at the roots of his locks, and he has to stifle his contented moan. “And your body━ Fuck, your body. You take my dick so well, baby.”
“Jungkook,” You mewl impatiently. “Wanna feel you in me.”
“Fuck, okay. Okay━”
He hastens to rid himself of his pants and you help, arms momentarily tangling with one another in your rush. Then he’s kneeling before you, one hand planted firmly on your hip, rings digging roughly against your skin, as his other hand wraps a fist around his hard length, slowly pumping himself. He guides the tip of his leaking cock to your core and pushes himself forward carefully. He easily slips past your folds, coaxed by your slick walls, that he has to pause to give you both time to adjust to the feeling. It’s just as he remembered, though somehow better, and he isn’t so sure how long he’ll last. You don’t know either, marvelling in the way he stretches you open.
“Oh, shit,” he grunts.
He watches as your jaw drops open in a silent gap, your eyes fixed only on his. You grab at his hips, fingers scratching delicately over the laurel tattoos inked there, prompting him to move. He does so in one languid movement, burying deeper and deeper into you until you feel so full and he feels so warm. He fucks into you a little sluggish at first, taking his time and enjoying the way your clenching walls feel around his throbbing cock. It’s a pace so maddening that it soon has the both of you panting, heavy moans filling the space around you. Your own fingers dig into his shoulders, his back, his hips ━ anything to keep a hold on reality as you slowly lose yourself to the pleasure. He reaches for one of your hands, eager to feel you in more ways than one, and laces his digits with yours, pressing your clasped palms above your head. You squeeze tightly, his name falling from your lips in a cry.
“Doing so good,” he mumbles through gritted teeth. “Feel so nice, baby.”
Jungkook grasps at your hips and flips the two of you over. He lands on his back on the soft mattress and you fumble to not break the pace. Firmly planting your hands on his chest, you grind against him, sweat coating your forehead. He watches you with a dark fascination, brows screwed together and jaw clenched as your own cum starts leaking down his length. Not wanting to waste another moment without being beside you, he sits up and shifts you in his lap. Then he pulls you close to him, chest pulled flush against chest to the point where he can feel the rapid beat of your heart against his. You whimper aloud, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck as he guides your hips back and forth on him. There’s little to no space between your gyrating bodies, sweaty skin sticking to one another.
At some point, Jungkook notices you’re crying again, steady tears tangling in your lashes and wetting your face. Despite the way you’re driving him to near euphoria, he brushes your hair out of your face and manages to ask, “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
“I’m sorry━ fuck,” You gasp. He can tell you’re genuinely sympathetic for whatever’s making you cry but it’s hard for you to convey it properly when you’re still so consumed by him. “I’m so sorry━ I’m okay. I just━ You feel so good, Jungkook.”
“It’s okay,” he whispers, rubbing tender circles against your waist that contrasts with the fierce burn between your legs. “You’re okay, baby. Doing so well for me, aren’t you? Cum for me, yeah?”
You won’t tell him why you’re crying ━ not yet, at least. But Jungkook thinks he knows why; he can feel it too. The bitter sense of longing and mingling regret for all the time lost. The overwhelming feeling of love of finally being reunited. You continue to roll your hips against his, and he, breathless, rubs his nose faintly against yours, resting his forehead against yours.
It doesn’t take much longer after that for you to come tumbling to you high. He strokes your hair so lovingly as you ride him recklessly, leisure rolls of your hips driving you to your high. When you cum, the feeling completely washes over you and electricity crackles in your veins, warming your entire body. He holds you close to his chest the entire time as you writhe with pleasure, your walls clenching around his cock.
“Fuck, I’m gonna━” His voice splinters off as you busy yourself by sucking a bruise onto the underside of his jaw.
He reaches his high moments later just as you’re beginning to wince at the feeling of oversensitivity. He grunts and groans, spilling his hot seed into you, and then, with his hips slammed against yours, grinds leisurely to ride out your highs.
Then, the room falls silent.
Neither of you move from your warm embrace, with you still perched on his lap, his cock softening inside you as his cum runs down his length and onto your thighs. Your face is hidden in the crook of his neck, and he waits until you’ve both calmed down from your orgasms. You’re running your fingers through his sweaty hair, but he knows you’re still sad. He kisses you all over in the meantime, a few ticklish kisses that make you smile sleepily and a few loving ones that have your heart swelling. Then, he gingerly shifts your head to look at him.
“Why were you crying?” he asks silently.
It takes you a moment to respond. You cling to him tightly when you do and all he can do is cradle you closer to him. “I don’t want this to be some kind of drunken one night stand thing. Like we both needed one last fuck to get over each other, or something."
“You mean more to me than a one night stand,” Jungkook says and it makes you smile smally, a little timidly. 
“That’s good,” You say, “because I’m not over you or us. I want us to work out. I love you too much to lose you again, and I’m scared this might be the last time I’ll ever see you.”
“I’m not letting that happen,” Jungkook shakes his head furiously. “I’d be an absolute idiot to let that happen. You won’t lose me. I’m not going anywhere this time. You’re my priority, Y/N. You always have been. Not the band and definitely not the record label.”
“I’m sure the boys will love to hear that,” You snort to yourself.
“Yeah, well, I’m sure they’ll understand,” Jungkook grins. But you’re only joking, and you know he sort of is too. That’s not to say the band isn’t still important to him, but you take precedent over it. “Without you, I wouldn’t even have the chance to be where I am now.”
You nuzzle your nose against his own, and he steals one sweet kiss from you. 
“Do you really mean all that?”
“With my whole heart.”
And, when he says it, you know he means it. There’s no reason not to trust him.
You’ll both move eventually from one another’s arms, soft touches from Jungkook peeling you off of him and wrapping you in your covers before falling asleep beside you, and waking up in the morning with you in his arms. But, for now, it’s just you and him, a little broken still yet all the more in love.
While you both know healing a broken heart will take time, you’re both prepared for it because you’re both worth it to one another ━ and that’s all either of you really need in the end to make it right.
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venusiangguk · 7 months ago
let the games begin | jjk (m)
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>>pairing: jungkook x reader
>>genre: pwp, smut, gamer!jk, light fluff at the end, established relationship 
>>word count: 5.7k
>>warnings: dom!jk, BRAT oc, but rly she just wants to be good 😔, big dick koo, spitting, spit eating, boobs, unprotected sex, cream pie, um...oh!, crying, crying during sex, not from pain tho, oc just gets overwhelmed :(, aftercare kinda?, boobies, comfort, idk man, riding, weird pet names lmao, oc is so tiny, big jiggly fat tits, OMG COCKWARMING, that’s literally the reason i wrote this lol, breasts, when jk cums.... v sexy, low key one sided sex 🤷🏻‍♀️ 
>>notes: all gamer lingo is from reddit, bc me and oc are the same in the way that we have no idea what the boys that are ignoring us for video games are saying so if it doesn’t make sense idc 🥲 yell @ me in an ask or sumn
>>summary: just another fic where oc rides jk in his gaming chair 🙄 pls still read it tho lmao its hot i promise
Hours. Several increments of 60 minutes. Multiple thousands of seconds. It’s been hours since Jeongguk has even acknowledged your presence. You huff and sigh dramatically, rolling around on his bed, accidentally knocking his Zero Two body pillow off. Good riddance. She’s part dinosaur. But still, nothing takes his attention from his prettily lit gaming set-up. You’ve come to your last resort.
Laying back on his pillows, you bunch your skirt up around your waist and then slip your hand down your teeny tiny, baby pink silk panties. They say ‘slut’ in small little silver rhinestones on the front. A gift from you’re extremely rude, extremely sexy talented gamer boyfriend. You let out an over the top moan, hoping to break through the sounds of his game. He does not move a single inch. Ever persistent, you stay at task, actually getting a little turned on with your quick moving little fingers rubbing over your clit. You let moans fall from your mouth freely, thinking about one of the few times he actually let you support him from under the desk. You drooling all over his swollen, uncut cock. Him leaving his mic on at your request. Him struggling to get out coherent sentences to his teammates. Him struggling to keep from moaning as he came silently down your throat. Mmm.
“Tae, Min, rush the blue zone?” He speaks into the mic. You can hear the clicking of his keyboard, as his fingers flit over the control keys. His head moves slightly as his eyes jump between his two monitor set-up trying to take everything in. And just like that, at the sound of his pretty voice, cute lisp and all, your mood is broken. You wanna hear that voice in your ear, calling you names (mean or sweet, you’re not picky), not talking about blue rushes or whatever. Your eyes roll.
You take a deep breath to calm yourself and slow your rapid breathing before you crawl to the foot of the bed, closer to him. His room is rather small, so the elaborate set-up he has extends almost to the end of his mattress, barely enough room for the gigantic chair to swivel around. However this is a plus for you because it makes it so you can rest your chin on his shoulder without disturbing him too much.
“NO! Do not rush blue! Are you stupid or just a fucking idiot?” Jeongguk flinches from how loud Jimin’s shrill voice is, coming from his headphones. Even you can hear it. “We just lost Hobi. We are outnumbered 6 to 3. In what fucking universe would a rush be a good idea? Are you trying to get flamed in a ranked match?”
“Okay damn, I forgot Hobi got no-scoped,” Jeongguk chuckles. He gently, minisculely, oh-so softly shrugs his shoulder, hinting that he wants you to get off, without saying it, knowing you would very-likely, potentially be offended and a little upset. But you don’t move. If he wants you off he can be a big boy and tell you. Maybe you even dig your chin into the tendons of his shoulder on purpose just to be a brat. He still doesn’t say anything apart from a tiny hiss of pain. In fact he deals with you pestering him until you start to mouth at the side of his neck, biting gently. Wet, open mouth kisses leaving a shiny trail on his pulse.
“Okay, you can’t do this right now.” He says, shrugging his shoulder hard, making you accidentally bite your lip. You whimper. “I’m in a ranked match, and we are already getting our asses handed to us. I can’t focus on you right now.” He doesn't even look at you, face glowing in the light of his pc. He probably doesn’t even register how harsh his words sound, too engrossed in the game.
You’re still close enough to hear from his head set when Taehyung says, “Is that __?” He sounds like he’s trying not to laugh.
“Yeah.” Is all Jeongguk says in response.
“Hasn’t she been at your place for like 4- On your right! On your ri- nice Kook- for like 4 days?”
“Yeah, she’s my girlfriend.” His tongue sticks out as he types in a combo attack. He smiles when he lands a kill.
Not for long you think. If he keeps this up, you’ll be finding other ways to spend your time. Like giving yourself a manicure with those cute little sanrio decals he got you the other day. A pretty manicure that would look so cute wrapped around his even prettier thick, hard, pink cock. Keywords being would look, not are going to look. He’s getting ignored for at least 15 minutes. You pout thinking about how you’ve been ignored for at least 3 hours. But still! You remain resolute in your punishment. No kisses, no handjobs, no nothing.
“I literally always hear her bitching about you playing,” Jimin chimes in, snickering. “Tell her to go paint her nails or something.”
Your jaws drops. Then Jeongguk has the audacity to chuckle. You see red.
“FUck this! And fuck you, and fuck your friends, and fuck your stupid ass no-scope, flame ass, rush ass game. And especially fuck you Park Jimin, I hope you never receive a blowjob ever again!” You stand up, pushing your skirt down, and buttoning your sweater all the way to the top. He will not be seeing your cleavage as you make your exit.
“AFK AFK-“ Jeongguk says quickly, getting tangled in his wires for a minute before accidentally tripping on the leg of his chair. You can hear the distant protest of his teammates coming from the abandoned headset. He hisses at the pain from almost falling, and grabs you by the arm, pulling you back.
“Let go of me!” You try to yank your arm out of his hold, very much throwing a fit. But he’s too fit, and you end up facing him, mouth set in a firm pout, and your eyebrows are scrunched in anger. You’re very tiny, but you hope you look evil. You’re eyes watering out of frustration probably doesn’t help though. His hands are firm and strong on your shoulders, keeping you in place.
Close the fucking gyms.
“Hey, hey,” He says, like he’s trying to soothe you. His big hands rub up and down your arms. You hate how it makes your anger die down just a smidge. “What’s wrong, why are you leaving?” He asks. He’s bent a little at the waist so he’s face to face with you, his big eyes searching yours.
Your bottom lip wobbles and your chin gets those ugly dents in it as it quivers. You sob. “B-because you’re n-not even paying att-t- attention to me!” Big cry baby tears roll down your cheeks. Jeongguk looks like he’s trying not to laugh and you give up. Head falling back, mouth hanging open in miserable wails as you drop to the ground defeated. You’re sat in a ‘w’ your skirt pillowing around you. You think you’re much too cute to lose your boyfriend to a video game. But you did your best, fought a valiant fight. It happens to the best of girls, you suppose.
“Chicken,” He coos the odd nickname he had bestowed upon you in the first month of dating. He drops to the floor as well and you can still hear the laugh in his voice. It only makes you cry harder.
“You’re laughing at me while I’m c-crying?” You blubber.
“I’m not!” He says, very much still laughing. He cups your face in his palms, thumbs wiping away your tears only for new ones to quickly take their place. He does his best to still his features into a more serious expression. A hint of a smile still lingers. “I’m not. I just think you’re cute, that’s all.” He kisses your nose.
You blink wide eyed, at the little affection. Then you remember you’re supposed to be having a tantrum. You sniffle.
“Will you please get back on the bed? I’m almost finished.” He asks gently.
You groan. “You’re still going to finish your game? While I’m crying?!” You blink rapidly, willing some more crocodile tears out of your eyes, that had been mostly dry prior.
“Chicky,” He whines, “It’s a ranked match, you know I can’t just quit.” He looks like he’s about to beg you to understand.
And you do. Gaming was really important to him, and he was really good at it, even earning a side income from streaming. But you’re a brat. One that has been neglected and ignored for hours. One that is always desperate for his attention and affection. Not to mention you’re still wet in your panties.
“Your friends were mean to me. They laughed at me.” You whisper, pout turned on heavy.
“They didn’t mean i-“
“And you laughed with them.” You cut him off, tears once again welling in your bambi eyes. You know you’re being a baby, but him laughing really did hurt your feelings.
His face falls and he looks like he’s grasping at straws trying to find a way to defend himself, but ultimately he gives up. He sighs and his head falls. “I know. That was mean of me, and I shouldn’t have done that. But I didn’t mean it,” He looks at you again. His fingers play with the edge of your skirt. “You know I didn’t. And you know I’m sorry. Right, chicken?”
You fight an unwanted smile and swat his hand away. Your resolve is crumbling quickly, but you still have it in you to be petty.
His shoulders sag. “What do I have to do to make you see I’m sorry?” He tucks a piece of hair behind your ear, his fingers running down your cheek and your neck to fiddle with the top button of your done up cardigan. He catches your face lighting up and quickly interjects, “Besides quit the game.”
You huff.
His fingers undo the button he was playing with. “Do you want me to yell at them? Hmm?” He nuzzles your cheek, placing a soft kiss to the apple. He’s undoes another button. With the pull and tension the sweater had on your tits gone, they fall just a little and jiggle lightly. You still say nothing. “What if I let you sit with me while I play?” Another button. “And why are you so covered? Can’t I see?”
You’re a weak, weak girl.
You don’t protest as he removes the sweater from you completely, and pulls the collar of your shirt down so that your big tits spill out the top. He cups his hands around them and squeezes. So squishy and so so soft. Plush. He groans and buries his face in between them.
“You could suffocate me with these and I would say thank you, I love them that much.” He swats at them lightly watching as they bounce before settling back into place, perky and waiting for his mouth. But he doesn’t give in easily, pinching a nipple instead.
“Ouch!” You whine. You cup your little hands around them, to protect yourself. There’s so much overflow it’s obscene.
He spanks your butt lightly. “Alright, up. Let’s finish this game so that I can make you my own little creme-filled donut.”
Your eyes light up and you hurry to get to your feet. Cream-pies were a treat.
He settles all the way back in his gaming chair, and opens his arms for you. You straddle his waist, facing him, knees on opposite sides of his hips and you scoot as close to him as you can, arms wrapping around his neck. Your boobs are pressed to his chest, still out and bouncing freely with every shift of your body. Incentive for him to end the game quickly. You can feel a little semi in his pants. A sweet pink feeling bubbles in your chest. He got kinda hard just from touching your tits a little bit. True love. You settle over his cock, wiggling a pinch more to get comfy. He hisses and grips hard at your hips, trying to keep you still.
“If you’re up here you have to be good.” He warns, pushing you back some so he can look you in your eyes. You avoid eye contact, looking everywhere but him. The led lights look really pretty on the baby blue setting.
“Chicken…” He lowers his voice, sounding stern.
You whine, dropping on his lap even harder. “Fine but like- you have to hurry.”
“I will, now quit moving and hand me the headset.”
You reach back and grab it. “Don’t forget to yell at them.” You remind him with a kiss.
He gives you an exasperated look before turning the mic on again. “Back.” He says, adjusting the mouth piece.
“Finally! Jesus. Tae’s dead-“
“I’m still here though.” Taehyung interrupts.
Jimin carries on swiftly. “And I’m low on health, what took you so fucking long?”
“You were an asshole and I had to fix it.” You look at him while he looks past you, typing away.
“Me?!” Jimin squawks.
“Yes you. Both of you. You laughed at her.”
“So did you!” Taehyung defends.
“Yeah and it was fucked up.”
“Meet me by the tower to give me a med-kit. God she’s such a prissy little baby, Kook. You are so pussy-whipped.”
Before Jeongguk can reply you speak into the mic. “And you’re such a prissy little dwarf Jimin, shut the fuck up.”
You hear Jimin's loud cackle through the speakers on Jeongguk’s ears. “You’re all of what? 3’6? I don’t even know how Kook can be so whipped for someone who can’t even take his dick properly.”
Taehyung laughs, and Jeongguk starts to speak up, but you beat him to it. “You’re awfully concerned with what my boyfriend does with his dick. If you wanna ride it, just say so.”
“Oh you know I would, baby.” He’s still laughing when he says it.
Everyone’s kinda chuckling except you, small hands fisting Jeongguk’s shirt. He gives you a side-glance, and notices the angry scowl you have on your face. He brings a hand down and squeezes your butt for a second, showing you you still have his attention, at least somewhat. “Alright, that’s enough. Both of you.”
“Tell them I’m the only one that can ride it.” You pout, fingers scratching at the base of his neck, hands playing with his long hair. He nudges into the touch a little. Pretty kitty.
“Shhh, they know and you know. Everyone knows you’re the only one that gets to ride my dick.” He kisses you quick, and you hum content.
You hear a gagging noise in the background. Taehyung probably.
Then there’s a ping.
It happens so fast, you really can’t even be mad at Jeongguk.
“Oh that’s Yoongi! He wants to play ranked.” Jimin says.
“Uh-“ Jeongguk tries to speak.
“Just leave this match and we can join one with him, I’m tired of just sitting here. I don’t care if we drop down the rank list a little.” Taehyung says.
“Guys wait don’t a-“
“Okay same, I just accepted. Yoongi, you there?”
You hear a confirming grunt from the speakers. Jeongguk looks at you, panic in his eyes. Your stare back is sharp as daggers. Cold and hard.
He whines. “You guys are shit ass friends. You know she’s not gonna suck my dick for like a week now.”
His friends laugh and your little brain forms a thought. A very good one indeed.
You card your hands through his newly bleached blonde hair, still soft and silky despite the chemicals. Demeanor quickly changing from small and evil to small and cotton-candy sweet. You kiss his nose sweetly. “It’s okay, baby. Do your best. Show them how good you are. I wanna see you win.”
He looks at you with wide doe eyes. “Really?” You nod. “If I win this match I might go up a tier.” He smiles and sounds so happy. You almost feel bad for being a brat earlier. And for what you’re going to do now.
You’re good for a while. Let him play his little heart out. You let him do his thing for long enough to ensure that he’s fully engrossed in it once again. His little mouth is hanging open slightly , and his eyes move frantically across the screens. He keeps talking gibberish to his teammates, the ones that you’ve all but tuned out at this point. You take your chances, and press your lips to the side of his neck.
Jeongguk stills for a split second, but otherwise pays you no mind. Which is no problem. You weren’t very patient often, but you could be when you needed to. In the right circumstances. You place another kiss, this one wetter, your tongue coming out to meet his skin before your lips do. You keep your kisses light and quiet so his teammates don’t hear. You take in his scent, so sweet and gentle and just him. After nuzzling in for a small moment, you nibble at the vein running up his neck. You gasp softly and your pussy pulses in your panties when he just barely tilts his head, giving you better access, and more room to kiss and suck.
You pull back a little to look at him, but he doesn’t even seem like he’s aware you're there. If it weren’t for his subtle eager movements, you would think he’s ignoring you again. But this is good. You like him like this. Eager but nonchalant at the same time. It’ll make it even better when he loses it after trying to keep it cool for so long. You squirm until you’re off his lap and on your knees looking up at him.
Finally he meets your eyes. He shakes his head.
“No.” He mouths when your hands reach for the waistband of his sweats.
You jut your bottom lip out and whisper, “I’m not gonna suck it, I promise.”
He regards you silently for a moment before not saying anything and returning right back to his game. You grip the elastic of his pants and when you gingerly start to pull them down, he lifts his hips just a little bit to help you. You have to bite your lip to keeping from moaning.
Something about him ignoring you while simultaneously helping you in the slightest, most basic ways makes you go crazy. Like pussy pooling, mouth drooling, brain shorting crazy. It’s almost like you’re so irresistible to him that he just can’t go without you. Needs you just as bad as you need him, even though he fights it. But giving in tastes sweet, just like you. That’s why he always does it. Just for you, all for you.
With his sweats down his thighs, you see his cock. He went without briefs today, making your job much easier. Sometimes the stars just align and you’re meant to have a cock in you. You sigh and you look at his, resting against his leg. Your mouth waters and you just want it in your mouth so badly, desperate for it… but you deprive yourself for the sake of what you have in mind. He’s not hard yet, cock just a little plump and heavy with arousal. You spit in your hand and rub it on his cock just enough to make it wet, not wanting him fully erect yet.
As you raise to your feet his eyes go back and forth between you and his monitors. He looks confused.
“Uh- Yeah let’s rush…” He says distractedly as you climb back onto his lap.
You look at him as you move your soaked panties to the side, and run a finger over your clit. Your mouth opens in pleasure but you don’t let yourself moan. Your expressions are enough to make his pupils blow out and his irises to darken. You bring your shiny fingers up to his mouth. “Taste?” You whisper.
Again, he does the bare minimum. Just barely parting his lips, not moving forward even an inch to suck them into his mouth. Once they are in, he sucks lightly, gently, almost like he’s teasing, like he’s kinda bored. His tongue licks lazily at the tips, and slips between them.
You lean down and move one side of his headphones off his ear. You whisper, “That’s it, drool all over them.” You shove them in farther and press down on his tongue, trying to take just a little bit of control, but the slight change in your tone, and your actions makes him bite down on your fingers. Letting you know that that was not how tonight was going to go. That was never how it went with you two. You pull them out with a gasp. You scowl at him angrily. All he does is raise an eyebrow, before returning to his game. Jimin’s screaming at him through the headphones asking him where the fuck he is.
“Hey, sorry I got distracted. Where are you guys?”
“Get your dick sucked on your own time, Kook….”
You tune them out once again, reaching your hand in between yours and your boyfriend's body. You grab his cock, just a little firmer than when you were on your knees. You grab under the tip, and push it into your core about an inch before Jeongguk’s covering his mic and whispers scolding, “I’m not hard, __.”
You look at him, and nod cutely. “I know, I just- I wanna just feel you a little bit. Keep it inside me while you play. Feel close to you.” You give him soft baby kisses all over his cheek while you push it in some more. You’re dripping so even though he’s still kind of soft, it’s not too hard to get it all the way in.
“I’m not fucking you while I play.” He warns you.
You shrug against him. “Don’t get hard then.”
And just like that, the games begin.
Jeongguk playing, doing his best to ignore you just enough to seem disinterested. You kissing his neck, biting his collarbones. ‘Accidentally’ rolling your hips. Of course it happens. Jeongguk really did put up a good fight. Barely gave in the whole time you’ve been bothering him. But you both know your pussy is too good to ignore. Warm and wet around his slowly swelling cock.
“Getting a little tight huh?” You whisper. You suck his earlobe into your mouth, tongue playing with the big ring as you subtly grind forward, your clit just barely rubbing against his lower belly area.
His jaw clenches and he swallows thickly. He raises his shoulders in faux nonchalance.
You smile, and hum. Your hand travels to his nipple, grazing over the small bud through his thin shirt. His mouth drops open, and his eyebrows furrow. Visibly, that’s the only reaction you get. No moan, or praise. Inside of you, however, you can feel him finally grow to his full length. Your cunt is stretched around his fat cock and when you drop your eyes to your tummy there's a small bulge protruding where his cock is, buried so deep inside of you. You poke it, before rubbing your palm over it. So full.
“You fill me up so good, Koo,” You whine high pitched and breathy.
Finally now that you have him exactly right where you want him, you get comfy and then cease all movement. Truly just cockwarming him. Holding him inside your tight little pussy, while he fakes ignorance about how badly he wants to fuck up into you. You can tell he is struggling to maintain his facade by the light mist of sweat by his hairline. By the way all his answers to his friends are curt and short. You can tell how bad he wants you because his legs spread wider on their own accord, causing you to sink even farther down onto his big cock. You gasp as the tip nudges something deep inside of you.
You're wrapped around his body, arms looped around his shoulders. You have your face pressed into his neck again, and you’re breathing in his scent when you inhale, pressing soft kitten kisses when you exhale. You won’t beg. You’re desperate, just like always, and you want him so fucking bad, but you won’t beg. Not this time.
He lasts barely a minute longer. Hand coming up to cover his mic again. “Move,” His voice is strained, lust dripping down his chin. He’s flushed from arousal, and hot to the touch.
You shake your head where it's hiding in his neck. “Not while you’re playing. I want you to pay attention to me only.” You’re whiny and difficult, you know. But so does he. He knew how fussy and unbearable you were when he first started seeing you, you never bothering to hide it. You commend him for sticking around for as long as he has. You love him for it too.
You hear him groan in annoyance before he exits the game with nothing more than a short, “I gotta go.” effectively cutting off his friends yells of complaint. It was a ranked match after all. You smile smugly into his neck.
He grips the hair at the back of your head, yanking to make you look at him. You’re still smiling that obnoxious self-satisfied grin, even through the pain blossoming on your scalp.
“You think you’re so clever,” His eyes are roaming all over your face, a small smirk on his lips. He drags your mouth to his, kissing you deeply, more tongue and teeth than anything. He bites hard on your bottom lip, pulling till it snaps back. “Move.” He demands against your mouth. His breath is a little shaky, giving away just how turned on he really is.
And you’re such a good listener. You’re bad and difficult, but you’re also so so good for him. Yearning for his approval, always. Lifting your hips just keeping the swollen tip in before dropping back down onto his cock. Your skin smacks against his, while you whimper pathetically. “You’re so deep inside me,” You whisper, bouncing again. Jeongguk’s head falls back and he moans deep and loud.
“Fuck, love your pussy so much.” He says, eyes closed, just basking in the feel of your slippery cunt sliding up and down his cock.
You set your pace, and you feel his big hands slip under your skirt to grip at your ass, pulling your cheeks apart, digging in hard. He’s lifting you up and bringing you back down, setting the pace that he wants. Not caring much at all about how it feels for you. A little doll for him to use, and you let him because you’re so good for him. He can use you however he wants, and the pace he wants is a hard one to keep up. Not only is it fast, but it’s hard. Gasps and whines fall from your mouth.
He gives you a little break, taking a moment to play with your tits, bouncing all over due to the force of you riding him. His lip is drawn between his teeth as he watches you bounce, his hands coming up to cup your underboob, his thumbs rubbing over your nipples. You throw your head back at the sensation, a gasp filling the room.
“God you’re such a pain in my ass, but you’re such a pretty girl, my pretty, pretty girl,” He moans as he takes you in, your hair a wild mess, his cock poking your belly every time you fall back onto it, sweat dripping down the valley of your tits. His hands grip your tiny waist, pinkies almost reaching in the back. It really is a wonder how you can take his giant cock like you do. So tiny and so perfect. Made just for him. His lips latch onto a nipple, and your body curls in, cradling him to your chest, soft pants falling from your mouth as you let him make you feel good. Your palms land on his cheeks, and you guide his head away from your boobs so you can look him in his eyes.
“Will you help me?” You ask, breathless. You’re still moving, but your hips have slowed.
He hums. “Why?”
“‘M tired…” You say quietly. “Please?”
“No.” He says, shaking his head.
Your face falls and you feel like you might cry. “Why?” You whine.
“Because I said so. You wanted this so bad you had to interrupt me twice to get it. So do it yourself.” He smacks your ass lightly, urging you to hurry up.
Your palms on his face squeeze, trying to convey how badly you just want him to fuck you like you deserve; punish you for being so bad when you should have just been good for him. You never learn. You squeeze until you’re sure it stings a little. “Please.”
“I said, no,” He spits, a glob of it landing on your face. And you gasp in shock before your pussy contracts. Jeongguk grits his teeth, hands digging into your ass. “Fuck you just got so tight from me spitting on you, you’re so-“ He’s caught off guard, watching as you gather his spit on your cheek onto your finger before sucking on it and drinking it down. He groans and you feel him throb inside of you. “Fuck make me cum.”
You’re so tired and your thighs and knees are killing you, but you try to set a decent pace, one fast enough to make him cum, but moderate enough for you to maintain it. Your pussy squelches every time you bottom out on his pelvis, your slick making his lower abdomen shiny and sticky. His t-shirt is barely pulled up, just the bottom portion of his abs showing, but you see them flex and tense as he gets closer.
That fact that you both are still mostly clothed makes something hot burn inside you. Both too desperate to get naked, too turned on to even give it thought. Clothes must be on Jeongguk’s mind as well. He bunches the front of your skirt in his hand pulling it up so he can see where your bodies meet. Your panties are now dark pink, your arousal seeping through and getting all over the place, and your poor little pussy is so red and swollen from the force of you slamming down onto his cock.
“Awe, poor little angel.” He braces his hand on your belly, his thumb slipping in between your puffy pussy lips to rub at your clit, finally helping you get off. “Does it hurt, baby?”
You’re still bouncing as you nod and whimper. It doesn’t actually hurt that much, but you want to be coddled, needy and desperate for his affection. Always so needy and desperate when it comes to him.
He coos. “You’re doing so good for me, just a little longer, I’m almost there. You can do it right?”
You’re not sure when you started crying, but you are. Out of both pleasure and exhaustion. Or maybe you’re crying because he moved his hand away from your clit, but whatever the reason, a tiny little sob slips past your lips, and again you’re nodding frantically, assuring that yes, you can do it.
He settles back farther into the chair, hands coming up to just fondle and hold your bouncing tits. Not helping you at all, making you work so hard to prove yourself to him. His mouth is parting and his eyes are hazy as he watches you make him feel good. “That’s it baby, make me cum… fuck yeah, make me cum-“ His eyes squeeze shut and his back arches off of the chair. The hands on your boobs tighten.
“Please Kookie, please cum inside me, fill me up.” You beg, using the last of your energy to keep up the fast pace. “Show me how good I am, how good I make you feel. Please.” You hiccup, as you cry for him.
He’s nodding along with your words, breathy moans coming out with every breath he takes. His face is pulled in pleasure, and he’s looking at you when his eyes start to flutter and his brows scrunch. He whispers, soft and sexy, “You’re gonna make me cum baby. Just like that… I’m so close-” His body tenses, and his hold on your tits hurts. “Fuck, I’m cumming- fuck, baby,“ His mouth falls open, whines tumble from his lips and he cums. His big cock throbs as he spills inside of you. You can feel every pulse of it, can feel every spurt of cum fill you to the brim.
You reach down and rub at your clit frantically, left to find your own orgasm. Fucking him got you close so you don’t need much, you’ve been on edge all night, really. Underneath you, Jeongguk is panting, trying to catch his breath, body twitching, overstimulated from you grinding on his cock. He’s looking at you in awe as he lazily plays with your tits, still not helping one bit, aside from the occasional brush of his fingers on your nipples. He listens as desperate whimpers fall from your lips, working so hard to cum. But still, it takes not even a few minutes before you’re there, shaking and trembling from your orgasm, pussy contracting and gripping tight on Jeongguk’s sensitive and softening cock, still nestled inside of you. He winces from the hold your pussy has on him, but just grits his teeth and bares it, still watching you with an awestruck look on his face. As you finish, so tight around him, you can feel your cunt push some of his cum out. Jeongguk can feel it drip down his balls to the chair. Messy.
You’re trembling from the force of your climax, and soft teeny hiccuping sobs still escape your lips as you wrap yourself around his body, face buried into his neck to try and quiet your cries. His soft cock is still inside of you, keeping most of his cum from leaking out. He knows you like it when he stays inside, knows it makes you feel closer to him in some way.
Jeongguk is running gentle fingers up and down your back, cooing soft praises to soothe you. “You were so good, such a good girl for me.” He kisses your head. “You don’t have to cry, chicky.”
You sniff a few times, “I’m sorry for being bad,” you whimper.
He smiles, laughs lightly. “Don’t be sorry, you’re okay.” He wipes under your eyes, trying to clean up some of the mascara running down your cheeks. He lets you calm down for a little while longer before he hums. “Want me to help you with your nails?”
You quiet yourself. Sniff. “The kuromi ones?”
You nod, before adding, “Yes, but you have to make sure you actually listen to me and do them right this time, okay?”
He rolls his eyes playfully. You’re nothing if not insufferable and bossy and desperate and so so good for him.
isn’t oc so cute 😔 anyway! i hope you liked it! sorry the ending low key sucks... i never know how to end smut scenes like... just kiss or something? as always, comments, notes, and feedback are so so loved and appreciated, as are asks and messages! i want to be friends !! thank you for reading ily :*
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fantasybangtan · 8 months ago
something to hold on to (myg)
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❦ word count. 17.7k ❦ genre. parent fic, fluff, angst, a bit of boob action ❦ warnings. illness, mention of hospitalisation, mention of minor character death, yoongi is kind of a dick sometimes, accidental(?) flashing ❦ summary. it’s not that you don’t like your job. on the contrary, reading bedtime stories to a certified little princess is something you still can’t believe you get paid to do. it’s just that between all the school runs, snow days and secret second hot chocolates before bed, you may fallen a little too hard for those dimpled cheeks and gummy smiles.... worse still, you’ve fallen for her father too.  ❦ a/n. merry christmas everyone!! this fic is a collaboration with the wonderful @underthejoon​ @kpopfanfictrash​ @suga-kookiemonster​ @junghelioseok​ @bendthekneetobangtan​ @lamourche​ and @hobidreams​. it’s late, lame and cheesy (and probably under-edited) but I like it that way. I hope you’re all having a fantastic holiday, wherever you may be <3 
“...Can we talk?”
For the first time since blustering in through the front door, Yoongi actually stops to spare you a glance.
You’re standing in the entryway in a pair of high waisted jeans and a peach coloured blouse, hands clasped behind your back and a nervous expression on your face. If he notices your outfit is new, he doesn’t pass comment on it. He doesn’t mention the fact that you’re wearing makeup today either, nor that you seem to have taken a little more time with your hair than usual. Not that you’d expected him to. Your employer isn’t well known for giving compliments, much less understanding when a woman is trying to impress him. Yoongi probably wouldn’t recognise flirting if it hit him in the face with a brick. 
His face is impassive as ever when he drops his keys into the bowl with a shrug. “Sure. There’s actually something I wanted to discuss with you too.”
You nod, fiddling anxiously with his hands as he slips off the snow-smattered trench coat to reveal the suit jacket beneath. He looks tired this evening; more so than usual if the dark bags under his eyes are anything to go by. Even on his days off Yoongi works like a tank, often letting himself get so wrapped up in getting everything done he forgets to eat meals. It’s a coping strategy, of course - one that always tends to get a little out of hand when this time of year rolls around. 
Yoongi turns back to you, loosening the knot of his tie with a ringed finger. He raises his eyebrows.
You follow him through into the heart of the penthouse: a masterpiece of white granite and gold strip lights. The room is utterly spotless save for the mug of freshly-brewed tea that sits waiting on the island, steam spiralling upwards towards the vaulted ceiling. 
“Here,” you say, nudging it towards him. It’s a comfortable ritual between you at this point. Yoongi needs a hit of caffeine if he’s going to make it to dinner without taking his work stress out on whoever’s unfortunate enough to be in the room with him, but following a series of chest pains a few months ago, his doctor put a strict ban on drinking coffee past 7pm. Replacing the habit with a cup of white tea in the evening was your compromise. 
Yoongi takes it with a small nod of gratitude, lowering himself onto the bar stool. His eyes flutter closed for a moment when he takes a sip, and your chest feels warm inside when the tension visibly starts to drain from his shoulders. The man is always so tightly wound. It’s really no wonder he suffers from back pain, what with all the stress he carries around with him. You’ve been trying to convince him to see an osteopath, but Yoongi insists there’s only so much ‘voodoo medicine’ he can bring himself to splash out on per month, and the December quota was already filled by the VapoRub you made him buy for his blocked sinuses. 
He places the mug down with a quiet sigh. 
“How was she today?”
You snap out of your reverie, meeting his expectant gaze. 
“She was wonderful,” you say honestly. “Coach said he’s really proud of how hard she’s been practicing. Her toe double toe loop has come on leaps and bounds these past few weeks.”
Yoongi raises his eyebrows questioningly.
“The jumpy spinny thing,” you clarify.
“Ahh. So that’s what it’s called.”
A fond smile tugs at your lips. Though Yoongi never misses an opportunity to support his daughter on the ice, the ins-and-outs of the sport are often lost on him. Surprisingly, he’s far more adept at the hair and costume side of things than he is at giving his little girl feedback on her actual performances. Ever since the day her first ever coach had pulled him aside to tell him Dee had ‘a god given gift’ that needed to be nurtured, he’s much preferred to leave such things to the professionals. 
“So.” Yoongi laces his fingers atop the table. Though you remain standing, you can’t help but feel that you’ve entered in on one of his business meetings. He looks you up and down. “Do you want to go first or shall I?”
“Oh -” All at once the nerves return full-force, fluttering away in your stomach like a flock of migrating birds. You instinctively drop your gaze to the floor when you feel your neck heating up. “Y-you can start.”
Unsurprisingly, Yoongi doesn’t so much as bat an eyelid at your odd behaviour, and you wonder how on earth Mina thought you could do this. You wonder how you -believed- her. Holding a conversation with your employer without taking offense to his social tactlessness was hard enough, especially before you understood Yoongi’s deadpan honesty is something he genuinely doesn’t know how to reign in. But admitting you have feelings for him? 
That was a whole other kettle of fish.
“I got a call from Dee’s grandmother today,” he says, drawing your attention back to him once again.
You raise your eyebrows. “Oh?”
“Her grandpa’s been taken into hospital with a shattered hip.”
Your eyes go wide. “Oh my god, is he alright?!”
Yoongi waves off your concern, cringing slightly at the shrillness of your tone. “He’s totally fine. He underwent surgery last night and he’s stable,” he eyes you across the island. “...It does mean they won’t be able to have Dee for the run-up to Christmas though.”
As your panic ebbs, you think you catch a glimpse of something softer beneath Yoongi’s default unmoved expression. He’s not only tired, you realise, but exhausted, worn thin by the constant pressure he keeps himself under. It takes everything in you not to close the space between you and wrap your arms around him. You know he’ll only burn himself out if he carries on like this, and the thought makes your heart ache. 
“I know it’s a big ask,” he continues with a weary exhale, scrubbing a hand down his face, “but it’s too late to cancel on this work trip. Flights to Berlin are fully booked up until late January, and the company we’re doing business with has made it abundantly clear they plan to proceed with or without our input. I’d pay you overtime of course. Whatever works best for you. I just need someone to sit here for a few days and make sure my daughter doesn’t burn the apartment down while I’m gone.”
“Yoongi,” you say quietly, shushing him with a gentle hand atop his wrist. He stares down at the point of contact, and you hope to god he can’t hear the way your pulse is going crazy. “You know I’d be happy to do it.”
Tentatively, he meets your eyes. “Are you sure? Your family -”
“Can manage a few more days without me. Looking after Dee is never a burden. She’s…” you cut yourself off, unable to hold his gaze. “She’s the best thing in my life.”
It’s not a lie. But perhaps it’s only a half-truth. The other best thing is sitting right opposite you, after all. 
Yoongi has never been the type to smile much. He’s stoic and blunt, and doesn’t know when to loosen up when the time calls for it - but he never says anything he doesn’t mean. That’s why it makes your heart feel so full when he says a soft, “Thank you, Y/N. You’re really helping me out here.”
You extract your fingers from his wrist, suddenly too shy to maintain the proximity between you. 
“Don’t mention it,” you cough.
Completely oblivious, Yoongi picks up his mug again. “You wanted to talk to me about something too?”
“Oh, uh… well. I was just -” You scramble for the right words, your mind drawing a complete blank beneath the weight of his gaze. 
It wasn’t like you’d come unprepared. You’d planned this whole thing out with Mina over the weekend, even going so far as to roleplay the possible outcomes of your confession (a necessity when it comes to Yoongi, because the man has absolutely zero concept of letting someone down gently). You’d practiced exactly what you wanted to say several times over in the car before heading over to pick up Dee, and all the whole way back to the penthouse you were convinced you had it down pat. 
Right up until Yoongi walked through the door, that is.
With the air stolen from your lungs just looking at him, your confidence crumbles, and the fact that he’s clearly had a shit day doesn’t help any. The harder you will yourself to form a coherent sentence, the more your tongue refuses to do so. 
“I-It’s not important,” you manage eventually.
Yoongi quirks a sceptical eyebrow at you. “Are you sure?”
You pause, then jerk your chin in a nod. 
“I’m sure.”
Yoongi doesn’t push it. 
“Okay then.” He finishes off the last dregs of his tea and rises to a stand. “I’ll walk you to your car.”
“Oh, you really don’t have to -”
“I know I don’t.” He crosses over to the clothing hooks and grabs your jacket, holding it out to you. “Put this on. I need to check in on Dee first.”
Dazedly, there’s little else you can do but follow his instructions. It’s not an uncommon occurrence for Yoongi to see you through the parking lot outside his place, especially during the winter months when it’s dark out, but the gesture still never fails to make you giddy.
Next time, you say to yourself firmly when he returns, holding open the front door for you to slip out first. Next time, I’ll tell him.
Last Year
You slide your feet into your heeled boots, wincing at the way your toes pinch together inside. 
It’s a Saturday evening - one you’d normally spend watching curled up on the couch with a takeaway in your lap or running yourself a nice hot bath, had Mina not spent the better half of the week trying to convince you to go on a date with the IT guy from her office - and between running slightly late and the shot of Dutch courage you definitely shouldn’t have taken ten minutes ago, your stomach feels like it’s tying itself up in knots. 
“You need to get out more,” your friend insists. “It’s been literal years since you last had fun.”
You open your mouth to correct her but she fixes you with a warning glare before you can say anything. 
“Fun in the form of Hula Fit and pottery class don’t count, Y/N. And you should probably save the conversation about your weird hobbies until at least the third date. Preferably after sex too, or your chances of getting any will be slim to none.”
You sink down in your chair, scowling at her over the top of your ice cream cup. 
“I still have fun,” you mutter. “I just have a lot on my plate right now. This new job is taking up a lot of my time, and I’m really not interested in getting fired before the trial period is up.”
“Y/N, you pick a rich couple’s kid up from skate club five times a week, make her pasta and watch cartoons until bedtime,” Mina snorts. “What the hell could go wrong?”
“First of all Mr Min is a single father,” you say, pointing your plastic spoon at her accusingly, “and second of all, you haven’t met the guy. If you had, you’d understand why I’m so on edge.”
“Why? What’s wrong with him?”
“He’s freaking terrifying, Mi!” You throw your hands up in the air to emphasise your point. “He barely spoke in my interview, just sat there giving me the dead eyes while his assistant asked all the questions! And he did exactly the same thing the first time I met his daughter. Just stood in the corner of the living room and watched, like he was assessing my ability to play with her or something.” 
“Well he must have liked what he saw, right? You got the job.”
“Barely. Apparently when he called the agency to let them know I was hired, he made a point of saying it was only because the other girl he’d been speaking with came down with pneumonia and he needed someone ASAP.” You pout sullenly, stabbing at your ice cream. “And since then he’s taken every opportunity to point out when I’m doing something wrong.”
“Maybe you’re just taking it too personally? That’s his little girl after all. He probably just wants to make sure she’s in safe hands.”
“I guess… I just wish he wasn’t so blunt about it,” you sigh. “Mostly I just feel sorry for Dee. I don’t get the chance to see them interact often because he usually gets home after her bedtime, but he doesn’t strike me like the type of dad who’s particularly involved, you know? She must only see him a couple of days a week.” You take another spoonful of ice cream, your gaze turning contemplative. “She must have one hell of a mother, wherever she is. I can’t think of any other way she could’ve turned out to be such a good egg, given that her father’s so emotionally constipated.”
“Okay, that’s it.” Mina lifts a hand to stop you from going on. “You think way too much about other people’s problems, you know that? It’s depressing. You need to stop getting stressed about the things you can’t change, and start focussing on the stuff you can.”
“Such as?”
“Such as your non-existent dating life.” She pulls her phone out and starts typing. “I’m sending you Jungkook’s number, and you will text him this week. Understood?”
Your phone vibrates in your back pocket.
“Mina -”
“Nope.” She holds up a finger. “I’m not backing down this time. Not until you agree to put yourself first for once.”
“...Fine,” you sigh eventually, pulling your phone from your back pocket. “I’ll text him. But I’m not promising anything more, okay?”
Though it physically pains you to admit it, Mina was right to an extent. You haven’t so much as given a guy your number in the past year, let alone one as hot as in the picture she’d showed you. Zipping up the tiny black skirt you’d borrowed from her closet, you realise with a sense of looming dread that the odds of making a fool of yourself tonight are decidedly not in your favour.
“Jungkook is a gentleman,” you recall her telling you, sipping daintily at her bubble tea. “He definitely doesn’t put out on the first date. Buuut -” she’d lifted a finger before you could chime in. “that does not mean you get the green light to wear your granny panties.”
“I don’t see why not. They’re comfortable and non-restrictive.”
“A girl should always wear her best lingerie when it counts, Y/N.”
“Says who?”
“Oscar de La Renta.”
“Ha, right. And what would he know about women’s underwear?”
She fixes you with a deadpan look. “Are you literally kidding me right now.”
“Mina, if Jungkook’s not going to see it then what’s even the point?” you mumble through a mouthful of ice cream, pointing the spoon at her to emphasise your point. “I’m not just gonna slice myself in half for nothing.”
If it were possible, you’re fairly certain Mina’s eyes roll all the way back into the back of her skull.
“It’s not for him, you loser, it’s for you. Sexy underwear is a confidence booster!” 
“It’s also expensive and a pain in the ass to move around in. Quite literally.” You tilt your plastic cup in an effort to dig out the last of the chocolate chips, but Mina reaches across to pluck the spoon from your fingers. “Wha-? Hey!”
“If you think I’m letting you pull a Bridget Jones on your first date in twelve months, you are sorely mistaken,” she says resolutely, ignoring your sullen expression. She raises a hand to flag down the server, muttering under her breath, “Clearly we have more work to do than I anticipated.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m taking you to Silky Fit, and we’re not leaving until you’ve picked something out,” she clarifies, pulling her purse out when the waiter came over with the bill. 
After sparing you a second glance, her expression softens somewhat. She tilts her head and sighs fondly at you, the same way someone might sigh at a helpless child, or a puppy covered from head to toe in mud after playing in the garden. 
“You have ice cream on your chin, babe,” she says, tossing a balled up napkin your way.
And thus, here you are a week later, teetering around your apartment in an outfit that’s two sizes smaller than anything you’d usually opt to wear, the string of your new thong pulling uncomfortably tight between your ass cheeks. 
Admittedly, glancing at yourself in the mirror before slipping your blouse on had left you feeling pleasantly flushed. Even despite the minor physical discomfort, Mina hadn’t been lying about the confidence boost. Your body looked good. The colour of the set you’d picked out provided a pretty contrast against your skin, and the bra had just the right amount of upward push to make your breasts look full and perky in their cups. Though ‘sexy’ was never typically a word you’d thought to associate with yourself, turning from side to side in the mirror almost had you reconsidering. 
Makeup done and hair styled into a loose updo, you snap a quick picture of yourself in the bathroom mirror, feeling surprisingly content with the end result.
Y/N: [image.png]
Y/N: all good ???
Despite being at a formal dinner with her boss and some company associates, it takes less than a minute for your friend to respond. You snort when an image of her disgruntled face comes through, clearly shot from beneath the restaurant table. 
Mina: stop trying to sext me ?? I don’t have time for this right now
Y/N: desperate times. need validation :(
Mina: you look so good I could eat you
Mina: ...are you wearing them?👀
You smile at your phone. Feeling emboldened by her praise, you pull up your camera again, this time shooting a quick video in which you turn slowly so she could see the full effect of your outfit. At the very end you tug your blouse to the side a little, flashing just the top of your lace bra with a comically over-exaggerated wink. 
Y/N: video.mp4 🤫
Y/N: enjoy your night baby x
Your taxi calls shortly afterwards to let you know they’re downstairs. 
Despite how busy the restaurant is tonight, it isn’t hard to spot your date. 
Jungkook is big. Far bigger than you’d imagined the stereotypical nerdy tech guy to be. He practically dwarfs you when he stands up to shake your hand, and you feel positively giddy when he rounds the table to pull your chair out for you. He even has the presence of mind to catch you when you inevitably stumbled over your heels on the way down, a gentle hand on your elbow stopping you from face planting in front of the entire establishment. 
“Careful there,” he murmurs, the amused smile on his face causing your neck to prickle with welcome heat. “You almost fell for me.”
When you let out a loud snort in response, clapping a hand over your mouth as a second too late to catch the unattractive sound, Jungkook doesn’t even bat an eyelid - just proceeds to tuck your chair in behind you and call the waiter over to take your drinks orders. You can’t help but wonder if Mina warned him about you beforehand. 
All in all, the date gets off to a good start. You’re relieved to learn that Jungkook is smooth enough for the both of you, seamlessly filling any lulls in the conversation before things have a chance to turn awkward. What’s more, he seems genuinely interested in learning more about you, listening attentively when you explain how you’re currently studying part time for your masters in education whilst nannying on the side. You flush with warmth when he praises your ambition. 
“It must be hard, juggling work with your studies,” he remarks. “It’s awesome that you’re so committed.”
“It’s not that impressive really,” you say, though your whole body is practically aglow from all the compliments. “Truth be known, the agency I work with deals primarily with parents from wealthy areas of the city, so most of us get paid a bit more than your average sitter would. It almost feels like cheating, really.”
“Oh?” Jungkook quirks an eyebrow, raising his wine glass to his lips. “Any celebrities on your contact list so far?”
“Sadly not. I’m only two weeks into my first job so far, and my current employer flies a little lower under the radar than most rich people.”
“A businessman then,” Jungkook nods.
“Precisely. He used to run a tech company, which I think is how he made the majority of his wealth. Nowadays he just does marketing stuff though.”
“A tech company, huh?” Jungkook presses. “Would I have heard of him?” 
To your alarm, he almost spits out his wine when the name Min Yoongi comes out your mouth.  
“Min? As in Min Enterprises?!” he sputters. 
You’re quick to fill him a glass of water, which he accepts gratefully. “That’s the one. You know him?”
“Sure I do,” he says between gulps. “We use literally all of his anti-virus software at work. The guy’s a genius.”
You raise your eyebrows curiously. “Really? The woman from my agency told me his tech company closed years ago. I don’t know much about this stuff, but I would have thought any software they produced would be a little outdated by now...”
Jungkook snorts in amusement. “Closed down is one way of putting it.”
“What do you mean?”
“His programme was good. So good that none of the other tech giants compete with it,” Jungkook explains once his eyes have stopped watering. “Come 2010, Microsoft bit the bullet and bought him out for around fifteen million. They’ve been developing and expanding on his work ever since.”
“Fifteen million?” Your eyebrows shot up towards your hairline. “Christ! No wonder his apartment looks like the Louvre.” 
“I bet it does,” Jungkook laughs. “I’d kill to see what your Christmas bonus looks like.”
It certainly explains a lot, you think to yourself. Particularly Yoongi’s attitude. You’ve seen The Social Network, after all, as painstakingly boring as it may have been. Those matrix-minded, Zuckerberg type kids always grow up to be emotionally stunted. It’s like a trade-off they make with God for getting to be smarter than ninety-nine per cent of the human population. 
When the waiter comes back to whisk away your starter plates, you momentarily excuse yourself to go to the bathroom to check your teeth for wayward broccoli. After giving yourself the all clear, you fix your lipstick and pull your phone out to let Mina know everything’s going well. 
You’re surprised to discover you already have three new messages from her.
Mina: helloooooo ??
Mina: man. she goes on ONE date and already I’ve been dropped
Mina: after all I’ve done for you 😭
You furrow your brows in confusion, scrolling up in the chat. Your bewilderment only increases when you discover Mina’s previous texts have, indeed, gone unanswered. Your video clip is nowhere to be found, and you wonder absently if the Wi-Fi back at your apartment is screwing you over again.
No sooner have you exited the chat that another text comes through, this time from a different number.
We need to talk.
Your heart abruptly flatlines. 
Several things click at once after that, the first being that clearly, it was not Mina’s name you had clicked on to send that video to. 
With shaking hands you open up the chat with your employer, utterly horrified when all your worst nightmares are confirmed at once. 
There, staring back up at you from beneath a message asking if Dee is allergic to band aids, is your cleavage. 
Enjoy your night baby, is what you’d said to Mr Min afterwards. 
Mr Min, who could slice a grown man’s confidence to ribbons with little more than a look. 
Mr Min, your boss of merely two weeks. 
“Fuck!” you hiss, pressing the call button and bringing the phone to your ear. “Oh fucking, fucking fuck…”
Your employer picks up on the second ring. You suck in a shaky breath before speaking. 
“Sir, I -”
“Miss L/N.” 
His voice is ice cold. So cold that the sound alone sound has your apology catching in your throat. 
Not for the first time since you met him, you’re reminded of exactly why Yoongi is so revered and respected among those in the business world. You can’t imagine what it would be like to have him speak your name like that in a boardroom full of men in suits, but you’re pretty sure any shred of self-confidence you had would be all but crushed beneath the toe of his designer oxfords if he so desired. In all honesty, you’d probably prefer it if he were yelling at you. At least if he raised his voice, you wouldn’t be gripping the faucet right now for fear your knees might buckle beneath you.
Somewhere on the other end of the line, a door slams shut like Yoongi is just getting in after a long day. Or perhaps he’s taking this conversation somewhere more private. Either possibility has your stomach churning with anxiety. 
“What is wrong with you?” he hisses under his breath.
You swear you’ve never wanted the floor to swallow you up so badly as you do in this moment.
Screwing your eyes shut, you force yourself to respond. 
“Sir, I can’t tell you how completely sorry I am… th-the video was meant for someone else. I would never be so bold as to -”
“You do realise I’m entrusting my child to you?”
Immediately, your mouth snaps shut. The sensation that you’ve just been slapped across the face takes you by complete surprise.
It takes a few seconds for your brain to play catch up with what Yoongi just said, but when the words finally compute, you feel -hurt-. The suggestion that your personal life might impact on your ability to take care of Yoongi’s daughter stings like hell, and for all his lacking interpersonal skills, your employer didn’t strike you as the type to draw such conclusions until now. The notion doesn’t sit well with you at all. 
Swallowing tightly, you place a hand over your abdomen to ground yourself.
“I really am sorry, Mr Min,” you repeat quietly. “It was an accident. I never intended to put you in an uncomfortable position, and I promise it won’t happen again.”
On the other end of the line, Yoongi is quiet for a moment. 
You wonder if he could hear the slight tremble in your voice. If he can sense the fact that he just squashed your self-confidence beneath his thumb like it was nothing. 
“Make sure it doesn’t,” he mutters eventually. Then, after another short pause, “I’ll see you on Monday.” 
Before you can so much as thank him for not threatening to report you to the agency, you’re met with the tell-tale click of your employer placing the phone down on you, leaving you with an embarrassed lump in your throat and bottom lip wobbling with the threat of tears. 
As could probably be predicted, your date with Jungkook goes rapidly downhill from there. Apparently unable to enjoy a good thing without utterly humiliating yourself along the way, you feel sick to your stomach with anxiety for the remainder of the evening. You barely even touch your dessert, and when Jungkook walks you to your cab half an hour later, you brush him off with a forced smile and a handshake, already having accepted the fact that he wouldn’t want to see you again.
Only when you’re in the back of the cab and heading home do you allow the first quiet tears to fall.
Showing up to work the following Monday is one of the toughest things you’ve ever done.
Even Dee seems to notice something is off when you pick her up from practice. Shrewd as she is, she eventually settles for humming along to the radio when she realises you’re in no mood to talk. Try as you might, you can’t stop replaying her father’s words to you on the phone, and despite Mina’s insistence that he’s an unforgiving prick, a small part of you still wonders if he’s right… Are you even fit to look after a kid? Are you fit to do -anything- besides making a fool of yourself?
To make things worse, Yoongi arrives home early that evening. 
As nervous as you are to see him again, you can’t help but be momentarily distracted by the way he hoists Dee up onto his hip to greet her. It’s not that he’s smiling or anything - such an expression would probably look wrong on him, anyway - but the way he cradles the back of her head seems strangely affectionate for a man like him.
“You’re getting heavy,” he murmurs, pausing to sniff her damp curls. His eyebrows furrow slightly. “And you smell different.”
“Y/N put lime jelly in my bath,” his daughter responds in a sleepy voice, her voice muffled against his lapel. “The water turned green like a skeptic tank.”
“Septic tank,” Yoongi corrects quietly. Though his face remains as expressionless as ever, you don’t miss the way his aura grows soft around her - a detail he himself probably doesn’t even recognise. “Sounds like you two had fun.”
His eyes lock with yours across the living room and you drop your gaze immediately, your body flushing with heat like you’ve been caught out doing something you shouldn’t. 
“S-sorry,” you blurt reflexively, already moving to grab your satchel. “I didn’t realise you were coming home early. Let me just pack up my stuff -”
“Y/N.” Yoongi’s voice stops you in your tracks. “Can I speak with you for a second?”
Standing stock still like a deer in the headlights, a sense of impending doom floods through you. This is it. Clearly Yoongi’s thought it over and decided to fire you after all. And the worst thing is you couldn’t even blame him! How could he possibly see you as a professional again after witnessing you running your tongue over your top teeth like a hungry carnivore? You haven’t even had the chance to explain it was -ironic.-
“Sure,” you squeak, torn between accepting your fate and grovelling on your knees for forgiveness. Who the hell was going to hire the babysitter who got fired from her first job during the trial period? For sending -provocative images- no less!
Carefully, Yoongi sets Dee down on the floor again, nodding in the direction of her room. 
“Why don’t you go pick out a bedtime story?” he says.
His daughter peers up at him like he’s just sprouted a second head. 
“You’re going to read to me?”
“No, I’m going to hit you over the head with it.” Yoongi rolls his eyes. “Obviously I’m going to read to you.”
Dee doesn’t look convinced. She folds her arms over her chest. 
“Alice in Wonderland?”
“That book is long as hell, Dee. I’ll read two chapters.”
“With the voices?”
“What am I, a performing monkey? Get out of here before I change my mind, kid.”
Dee huffs, clearly dissatisfied. Nonetheless, she trudges off to her room, her ringlets bouncing as she goes.
The living room falls uncomfortably quiet again once it’s just you and Yoongi. 
You fiddle idly with your hands, unsure of where to look. The embarrassment of the situation hits you all over again when you accidentally replay the video in your mind, and despite the fact that you’re wearing two layers already, you can’t help but cross your arms protectively over your chest. 
As if sensing your discomfort, Yoongi clears his throat.
“May I offer you a drink?”
You pause. It’s not quite what you’d expected, but then again, rich people are weird. Maybe it’s customary to send your incompetent employees on their way with a glass of Chateau Petrus. Having skipped out on the whole making-millions-of-dollars-in-your-early-twenties thing, you probably wouldn’t know.
“I’m fine,” you manage weakly, shaking your head. “Thank you, sir.”
Yoongi gestures towards the couches. “Shall we sit then?”
You gnaw at your lip anxiously. “... I think that depends.”
“Whether you’re going to fire me.” You force yourself to look up. “With all due respect, Mr Min, I’d rather just shake hands and go. I’m finding it hard enough to look you in the eye right now as it is.”
Yoongi blinks. Your words hang heavy in the air between you. 
“Miss L/N,” he says slowly, clearly taken aback by your forwardness. “If I wanted to fire you, I would have done so already.”
You open your mouth, then abruptly close it again. Your eyebrows tug together in confusion. 
“So you... aren’t?”
“Of course I’m not.” Yoongi shakes his head as if the notion alone is utterly ridiculous to him. “I only held you back tonight because I wanted to -” 
He cuts himself off suddenly, like there’s a physical barrier stopping the words from coming out. Then with a tired sigh, he leans back against the sideboard, carding his ringed fingers back through his hair. 
“Because I wanted to apologise,” he finishes.
If possible, your eyes grow even wider than before.
“...Huh?” is all you can manage.
“I shouldn’t have been so hard on you,” Yoongi clarifies simply. “I was out of line. I had no business speaking to you how I did.”
“Oh, n-no Mr Min,” you scramble for words, already raising your hands to stop him from going on. “Please don’t say that. What happened on Saturday was totally my fault. That message was -”
“A harmless accident,” he cuts in gently, and you pause at the unfamiliarity in his tone. “Please rest assured that I was the asshole in that situation, Y/N, not you.”
Lips parted softly, you gape at him from across the dimly lit living room. It’s beyond strange hearing such a formidable man issue such a humble apology, and you had absolutely no idea how to respond. 
Seeming to mistake your silence as a prompt for further explanation, Yoongi exhales heavily through his nose, his gaze momentarily dropping to his feet.
“I tend to get a little… short-fused around this time of year,” he says. “I lost Dee’s mother in early December. Yesterday was the four-year anniversary of her death.”
Your heart stutters in your chest. 
Of course, you knew there was a woman involved at some point. And in more than just an oven-for-the-bun kind of way, if the drawings on the fridge were anything to go by. But up until now, you’d assumed the two of them had simply parted ways - that she lived a few neighbourhoods away, and Dee visited her every other weekend. To learn that her absence is something far more permanent than that - to witness that purple stick-woman transform into a real, vibrant image in your mind’s eye - is something else entirely, and a thousand possibilities flash through your imagination at shutter speed. You see someone who took care of Dee when she was sick. Someone who encouraged her husband to pursue his goals and start up his own company. A mother and a wife, with hobbies and dreams and a presence that probably bled itself into every cranny of the apartment before Yoongi had stripped it bare in her wake. 
Someone who probably would have been utterly furious at you for all the bold assumptions you’ve made about him so far.
You wonder who the man standing before you might have been, had he not had the person he loved most in the world torn from him just as they were starting a life together. All at once, your gut burns with shame.
“Mr Min...” you say, your voice barely loud enough to make the distance between you. “I’m so sorry.”
Yoongi is quick to shake his head. “Don’t be,” he says, his tone kind but firm. “I’m a grown man. My grief is no excuse to treat people poorly. If I could take back what I said that night I would, but when your message came through it -”  He abruptly stops talking. 
If you didn’t know better, you’d think there was a hint of a blush on his cheeks. 
“It caught me off guard,” he finishes eventually, inclining his head in a small bow. “Please accept my apologies.” 
Feeling a little winded by the whole ordeal, there’s little else you can do but return his gesture, stooping low with your hands on your thighs. “Of course,” you manage. “Please, consider it forgotten, sir.”
Yoongi straightens up with a nod. His dark eyes skim over you with an unreadable expression.
“Just for the record,” he adds tentatively, “I never would have fired you for something like that. I’m afraid my daughter is already far too attached to you.”
You flushed at the sentiment, embarrassed for reasons you couldn’t quite place. “I highly doubt that’s true,” you mumble, glancing downward. “I’ve only been here two weeks.”
“On the contrary, there’s a bag of Christmas peppermint creams in the fridge that she made you at after school club,” says Yoongi. “I asked where mine were and she pulled my wallet out of my pocket, handed it back to me and told me to stop sponging off other people’s hard work.”
For the first time during a conversation with your employer, you let out a genuine laugh. 
Yoongi doesn’t laugh along, of course. He doesn’t even smile. You’re starting to figure at this point that his blank expression might actually be his happy one.
“Hey - will Dee be okay?” you ask a few moments later, when the room lapses back into a comfortable quiet. “I wasn’t aware that she might be going through a tough time...”
“I think she’s normalised it now,” Yoongi explains, sliding his hands into the pockets of his slacks. “She was too young back then. Her memories of her mother are abstract at best. The drawings she brings home from school, they’re just copies of photographs really. The stuff she knows from home videos or stories I’ve told her.” He pauses. “I think she can sense it though. How I get a bit funny around Christmastime. I think it upsets her.”
“You can’t help it,” you insist gently, the guilt of judging Yoongi too harshly causing your stomach to clench up once again. “Dee’s a smart girl. I’m sure she’ll come to understand it one day.”
Yoongi watches you from across the room, his head slightly tilted like he was trying to figure something out. 
“Thank you,” he says eventually. “For taking care of Dee. Things before… they were hard on her. I wish I could be there for her more.” He glances away momentarily. “I think you being here has made things easier.” 
Something warm and fuzzy unfurls in your chest at his words. 
“I’m happy I could help,” you say honestly. “She really is a great kid.”
“She is.” Yoongi nods.
“And she thinks the world of you,” you can’t help but add, because despite your previous assumptions about Yoongi’s parenting, it hadn’t taken long to cotton on to the fact that Dee never shuts up about him. 
“Right,” Yoongi snorts. He pushes away from the sideboard. “Tell me that again when the teenage years roll around.”
You grin, and he hesitates a moment for gesturing towards your raincoat.
“It’s dark out, and the light in the parking lot keeps flickering out,” he says. “I’ll walk you to your car.”
The offer takes you by surprise. You’re not used to seeing the kind side of your employer. Hell, you’re not used to much more than thinly-veiled criticism and blunt remarks.
Nonetheless, after saying a final goodnight to Dee, you let Min Yoongi walk you downstairs that day.
(You let him do it every day after that, too).
You’re sweating buckets by the time you reach the front door, your hair a wild mess from the unexpected bout of snow that had caught you on the way over. Panting like an animal, you raise your elbow to press the doorbell, taking about three tries before you actually manage to accomplish such a feat. 
It’s barely even finished ringing before Yoongi is standing before you, a disgruntled look on his face and cheeks pink from exertion. 
He’s dressed down - or as dressed down as one can be in a Ralph Lauren sweatshirt and comfy slacks, which in reality is about as close to loungewear as he’s likely to get. Up until now you were convinced the man slept in a full suit. 
Standing in the doorway with one hand on the frame, he gives you an unimpressed once over.
“You’re late.”
You roll your eyes. “Hello to you too.”
“What’s with the bags?” 
“Just a few things to get us through the week. Can I come in, or...?”
Begrudgingly, Yoongi moves out the way, though he’s still eyeing you warily.
“Exactly how much sugar are you planning to stuff my kid with while I’m gone?” 
You place your shopping bags down in the entryway with a sigh. “It’s Christmas, for heaven’s sake, what else are we supposed to do if not overeat until we pass out in front of the TV?”
Yoongi hums, his lips pursed. “Right. Just remember no sweet treats after eight. And no milk either for that matter, we’re trying her on -” 
“A lactose free diet to see if it helps with the stomach cramps,” you drone. “I’ve been here every weekday for a whole year, Yoongi. There’s no need to reiterate the rules every time I walk in.” 
“You might know the rules, but I know my daughter. She despises oat milk with a passion, and she’ll try every which way to get you to cave when it comes to hot chocolate.” He pulls out his wallet with a sigh, and your expression morphs into one of confusion. “How much do I owe you?” 
“O-oh! You don’t have to pay me back,” You hold your hands out in front of you, shaking your head. “These are a gift, and they barely cost anything anyway. It’s just gingerbread men and.. and colouring books and stuff.” 
Yoongi quirks an eyebrow. 
“Really,” he drawls. “So you’re telling me I won’t find the new Super Smash Bros game buried underneath all that junk food if I take a look?” 
“Shh!” You clap a hand over his mouth, eyes darting towards the living room. “Don’t spoil it!” 
Yoongi sighs, taking your wrist gently so he can speak again. “Snacks are fine, but that game is at least forty dollars. I can’t have you spending that much money on us.” 
“But I want to,” you insist, giving him the puppy-dog eyes. “Dee’s wanted it for months, and she’s been working so hard recently. I want to show her I’m proud of her.” You stick your bottom lip out. “Please let me.” 
Yoongi narrows his eyes at you. “Don’t look at me like that.” 
“Like what?” 
“You know what.”
You grin wickedly. You already know you’ve won.
With a reluctant grumble, Yoongi slides his wallet back into his pocket. “I’m only letting this slide because I’m running late,” he says, even though you’re both aware he’s not. He nods towards your grocery bags. “You need help getting those to the kitchen?” 
“I’ll be fine,” you wave him off. “You finish packing, boss. I’ll go say hi to the little monster.” 
Unsurprisingly, Dee is still in her pyjamas when you find her. She’s curled up on her side at the foot of the Christmas tree, Home Alone playing on the TV for the umpteenth time. You know it’s her favourite. She and Kevin have a lot in common when left to their own devices.
“Hey, bug,” you say in passing. “You getting into the Christmas spirit?”
Dee barely even lifts her head to look at you. “How can I?” she mumbles into the carpet. “I’m being abandoned. Again.”
You tut, opening the fridge so you can unload the goods into it. “Hey now, it’s not all bad. You have me, remember. And I have gingerbread men.”
You hold up the box and shake it, but Dee merely blinks at your efforts to raise her spirits. 
She sighs forlornly, her gaze sliding back to the TV.
Your eyes soften as you watch her. She looks so small like this, rolled over on one side with her knees tucked up against her chest. It’s hard to believe this is the same little girl whose performances explode like dynamite when she hits the ice, the energy she exudes reaching every corner of the rink. 
In these smaller, quieter moments, you see more of her father in her than ever.
“Dee,” you say, your voice gentle but firm. “Look at me, bug.” 
Reluctantly, she peels her eyes away from the TV screen to meet yours.
“You know your dad doesn’t want to go any more than you want him to, right?” you say. “If it were up to him, he’d be staying right here.”
“I know...” Dee mumbles, playing with her fingers. “I just don’t like it when he’s gone.”
“I know you don’t, bug.” You smile sadly. “And that’s totally okay. But we need to make sure we don’t make this any harder on him than it needs to be, right? That means no tears this time.”
Dee rolls her eyes, her cheeks flushing. 
Yoongi had been called away on a weekend business trip in Paris a few months ago, and for whatever reason, the kid had had a meltdown like nothing you’d ever seen before when it came time for him to leave. It had taken all your strength to pry her arms from around his leg, and at the time it had been heart-breaking to witness. 
Her separation anxiety always tends to show its face at some point when Yoongi goes overseas, but never before to that extent. You don’t think you’ve ever seen a man look quite so torn as Yoongi had in that moment. If you hadn’t been there, you’re convinced he would have cancelled the trip altogether. 
Thankfully, the farewell goes a lot smoother this time. When Yoongi returns from his bedroom with suitcase in tow, Dee stands up and hugs him with little fanfare, burying her face in his stomach. He lifts a hand to smooth over her hair. 
“Be good, okay?” he says. “I’ll be back before you know it.”
“Love you,” Dee mumbles when she pulls back, and you send her an encouraging nod Yoongi’s shoulder. 
“Love you too, kid.” Yoongi bends to kiss the crown of her head, and you observe the exchange with the familiar ache of longing in your bones.
You see him to the door afterwards, the two of you loitering in the threshold as you go through the usual routine of checking he has everything.
“Boarding pass?” you say.
“In my bag.”
“Phone? Wallet?”
He pulls both out to show you. You smile fondly, leaning up against the doorframe with your arms crossed. 
“Text us when you land, okay?” you say softly.
“Yeah.” Yoongi nods. “If you have an emergency while I’m gone -”
“Call Namjoon, his number’s on the fridge under the banana magnet.” You roll your eyes, absentmindedly reaching out to fix his collar. “Again, been here a whole year, Yoongi. I know the drill.”
Your brain catches up a few seconds too late, and by the time you’ve realised your error Yoongi is already blinking down at your fingers, frozen in the process of smoothing down the hem of his sweater. 
Your eyes go wide in panic.
“Um-!” You retract your hands as if you’ve been burned. “H-have a safe flight, okay? I’ll see you soon!”
Yoongi merely hums, staring at you from beneath hooded lids with an unreadable expression.
You all but slam the door in his face, leaning your back up against it and pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration.
“...fuck!” Yoongi hears you curse on the other side.
Last year
The first time you realised you’re in love with your employer, it’s the evening of Dee’s first regional skate competition.
At the request of the little princess herself, you wander into the changing rooms fifteen minutes before the show to give her a good luck hug, finding her perched on a bench in a sparkly blue costume. Her skates are already done up, feet swinging back and forth and her entire body seeming to buzz with energy. Smiling, you begin to make your way over. 
Then you spot him.
Perched on one knee, his hair swept back off his forehead and the sleeves of his work shirt rolled up to his elbows, Yoongi wields a makeup palette in his left hand and a brush in his right. When he murmurs something soft under his breath, Dee responds by closing her eyes. You watch on in quiet awe as Yoongi leans up to brush the glittery powder over her right lid with feather-light strokes. 
When he’s satisfied with the blending, he swaps out the eyeshadow palette for a pack of rhinestones, even going so far as to use a pair of tweezers to apply them seamlessly to her lash line one by one. You can’t help but wonder how many times he’s done this before. He must be the only father in the room right now, and something about the way he owns that fact makes your chest swell with something warm and unidentifiable. You wonder if the braids on her head are his handiwork too. If it was his idea that she wear her mother’s necklace over her costume tonight.
In this moment, you know with certainty there was no one in the world Min Yoongi cared about more than his little girl. 
When he just so happens to glance your way a moment later, Yoongi’s expression barely shifts from his default glower.
“Oh, good,” he remarks drily, tossing you a can of hairspray. You barely managed to catch it without fumbling. “She’s got some flyaways round the back. There’s a comb in the front pocket of her gym bag.”
He goes straight back to work without sparing you a second glance after that, firmly instructing Dee to stop wriggling lest he poke her eye out by accident. 
You swore your heart has never felt so full. 
Biting back a smile, you wordlessly locate the comb and start smoothing out her hair. 
“Hold it… hooold it…”
“Dee, babe. I really don’t think -”
“Hold it, Y/N!”
You exhale heavily through your nose, arms trembling as you struggle to maintain the downward dog position you’ve been forced into. Dee isn’t having nearly so much trouble, her forehead lightly touching her yoga mat when she arches her spine. She wiggles her bottom playfully in the air.
“That’s, guys. You look great!” chirps the annoyingly perky young woman on your iPad screen. “Now we take our right leg and extend upwards, pushing down hard into our heel so we can really feel that stretch in our hamstrings.”
“Trust me, I’m feeling it,” you grunt, barely managing to raise your right leg thirty centimetres off the ground. 
Dee giggles, her leg already extended to its full height as if her body were made of elastic. 
Your core contracts with the effort of keeping you upright, knees threatening to buckle beneath you.
“How is this fair? You’ve been skating since before you could walk and I haven’t moved this much since high school.”
“Tina says each new day is an opportunity to improve yourself.”
You roll your eyes. “Tina sounds like a hoot.” 
“That’s the spirit, ladies! Other leg, let’s go!”
You groan, switching sides. It’s the third day in a row that Dee’s had you do stretches with her, and you’re starting to feel more like you’ve signed up for a week of boot camp than a week of babysitting. 
Dee squints at you from beneath her armpit. 
“Y/N,” she sighs.
“You’re dropping your hips.”
“My apologies, Drill Sergeant Min. Won’t happen again.”
She returns to her position, shaking her head like a disappointed school teacher. “You’re worse than dad, you know.”
You do a double take. “I’m sorry - Yoongi does this with you?”
“Sometimes.” Dee moves gracefully into a side plank, facing away from you. “When he doesn’t have work.”
“And you’re telling me I’m worse?”
“It’s considera-bly,” you correct her with a huff, more out of indignation than anything else. 
“Po-tay-to, po-tah-to,” Dee shrugs.
You let out an amused snort, though your mind is still reeling at the thought of Yoongi willingly assuming the lotus position and breathing out for eight counts. Scratch that, your mind is reeling at the thought of Yoongi wearing anything other than slacks. What kind of power does this kid wield that she can get the human robot himself to break a sweat? 
You continue on with the routine until you can’t any longer, at which point you collapse onto your back with little ceremony. 
“That’s it,” you pant, waving the metaphorical white flag in the air. “I’m done. No more.”
“But we haven’t even got to the headstand part yet!”
“Go on without me, bug. I’ll only hold you back at this point.” You manage to sit up despite the dull ache in your abs, glancing over at the wall clock. “Man, it’s getting late. I should get started on dinner.”
No sooner have you spoken it that Tina’s bouncing breasts disappear from your screen, replaced by Yoongi’s caller ID. 
“Dad!” Dee gasps, already lunging forward to press accept before you can think to stop her.
When Yoongi’s expressionless face appears, he is confronted with the image of you kneeling on your yoga mat in a ratty pink sports bra and leggings, frozen like a deer in the headlights with your brow glistening with sweat and an eight-year-old’s halloween headband holding your hair back from your face. 
You freeze. Yoongi blinks at the velvet cat ears sticking up from atop your head.
“Good morning,” he says in a low rumble.
In the next second you’re diving off-screen with a muttered curse, grappling for your T-shirt where it sits bundled up on the floor. 
None the wiser to your panic, Dee scrunches her nose up. 
“Morning?” she says, settling on her stomach with her chin in her hands. “It’s like five p.m.”
“Different time zones, kid. It’s almost lunchtime here.” Yoongi reclines in his fancy armchair, which is presumably in his hotel suite. “You two have been working hard I see.”
“No pain, no gain,” Dee tells him matter-of-factly, even going so far as to flex her bicep for the camera.
Yoongi hums. “Just don’t go pushing yourself too hard, hm? One of these days you’re going to twist yourself up into a pretzel position you can’t get yourself out of, and when that happens -I’m- the one who’s going to end up carrying you around.”
“Tell that to Y/N,” Dee snorts. “She looked like a drowning octopus when we got to the backbends.”
“I was not that bad,” you hiss, your face heating up with embarrassment despite being off-camera. Then, as an afterthought, “And how the hell does an octopus drown?”
Nobody is listening to you. It might just be a trick of the light, but you’re convinced you spot the corner of Yoongi’s mouth give a slight twitch of amusement.
“Be nice, Dee,” he says, though he doesn’t sound particularly worried for you. “The only bad workout is the one that didn’t happen, right?”
You pause, giving Dee the side-eye. “...Did he just quote Tina?”
She fixes you with a serious gaze. “Careful. Dad is a big Tina fan.”
“Ugh, I bet he is,” you mutter under your breath, pulling a face as you recall the way Tina’s cute little glute muscles had contracted during the standing pigeon. 
“Feel free to let me know when you’re done talking about me like I’m not here,” Yoongi drawls dispassionately, taking a sip of his coffee. “I need to speak with Y/N.”
You can’t help the way your stomach flutters at that. Hesitantly (and having disposed of Dee’s cat ears), you lean back into frame. 
“What’s up?” you say with an awkward wave, already cringing at yourself internally.
Yoongi blinks languidly, passing no comment on your previous state of undress. 
“I’m expecting a delivery to arrive at some point this week,” he says. “I need you to sign for me and put it somewhere safe. Preferably out of reach for anyone below four-foot-two, if you catch my drift.”
“Ohh,” you nod slowly, giving him the thumbs up. Clearly this delivery was Christmas-oriented. “Gotcha. Don’t worry, boss, I’ll make sure no prying eyes see anything they shouldn’t.” 
You shoot him an exaggerated wink behind Dee’s head.
The smallest of smiles works its way onto Yoongi’s lips, and the sight is nothing short of stunning. Just like clockwork, the sight has your chest aching for him to be home. You open your mouth to speak again - perhaps to ask how Berlin is treating him, or some equally lame attempt to keep him on call for a little longer - but before the words can form there’s a sharp knock on the door of Yoongi’s hotel suite.
“Come in,” he calls gruffly.
Fortunately (or perhaps not so fortunately) the angle of the camera is just right that you can see the reflection of the door in the mirror behind, swinging open to reveal his guest. 
“Aha! There he is,” a sultry female voice sounds through the screen. “I’ve been looking all over for you, mister.”
Your heart sinks right to the pit of your stomach. Lower, if it were possible. 
There’s no doubt in your mind that the woman standing in Yoongi’s doorway is anything short of a goddess in a pinstriped skirt. You’d have to be blind not to see how gorgeous she is, all long limbs and softly curled red hair that falls in waves about her shoulders. She leans up against the doorframe with her hip cocked, a playful smirk on her face as she looks at your employer.
“Sofie,” Yoongi acknowledges with a polite nod. True to form, his expression betrays precisely nothing of what’s going on in his head. “Did you need something?”
“I just wanted to ask if you’re coming to lunch. We’ve made reservations at the restaurant downstairs if you’d like to join us.”
Your eyes skirt away, seeking out something better to look at. Anything really, so long as it’s not the obscenely beautiful woman who's hitting on the man you love in a swanky hotel eight thousand kilometres away.
“That’s very kind of you,” says Yoongi, and you wish for once that his voice was anything other than a monotone drawl. There’s absolutely no way of deciphering whether he's into this woman when he talks to her the same way he talks to you, and Dee, and noodles on the damn stove when he wants them to hurry up and boil. “I just need to finish up this call. I’ll be down in a minute.”
“Perfect.” Sofie pushes away from the door with a coy smile. “I’ll see you there.”
She turns on her heel, hips swaying like a pendulum as she slinks out of the room. When the door closes behind her, Yoongi returns his focus to the camera, totally nonchalant. 
“Looks like I’m out of time,” he says.
Dee props her chin on her hand, pouting sullenly. “Are you gonna be home soon?”
“Four days, kid, then I’m all yours.” His gaze flickers over to you. “You two take care, okay?”
“You too,” you nod quickly, determined not to let the internal battle you’re having right now show up on your face.
“I’ll see you later.”
“Bye, Dad.” Dee waves.
“Enjoy your-”
The call ends abruptly, cutting you off.
“... Night,” you finish lamely.
The lovely Miss Tina returns to your screen, and Dee blows a gust of hair from between her lips. The sound startles you somewhat.
“Man,” she says, flopping down onto her stomach. “I hate that B-word.”
“Dee!” you shriek, your eyes almost bugging right out of your head.
She blinks up you innocently. “What? I didn’t curse.”
“I - God, who even taught you that?”
“Family Guy,” she shrugs.
“Right, that’s it. I’m revoking your TV privileges for the rest of the week.” You stand up, waving your finger at her so she knows you’re serious. “Just because it’s a cartoon does not mean it’s suitable for kids.”
“Fine. I’m sorry,” she mutters. “But Sofie really -is- annoying. She’s a froo-trarian, so we had to eat this really weird meal with papaya and stuff when she came over. And she said figure skating is basically just a style of dance!”
You freeze halfway to the kitchen.
“A froo-trarian,” Dee repeated, with extra emphasis on the ‘froo’. “It’s this religion where you don’t eat anything with a face, or anything that came out of something with a face, or anything green unless it’s a kiwi.” 
“No,” you shake your head jerkily. “No, I mean - Sofie came here? To the apartment?”
“Yuh-huh.” Dee’s already distracted, rewinding the workout video to where you left off. “She was doing some work thing with Dad. They were in his office for hours.”
Immediately, your stomach tightens with anxiety. Something about that doesn’t sit right with you at all. Yoongi hardly ever has people from work around, much less for a meal. The man can barely even feed himself when the recipe calls for more than a microwave.
A selfish part of you wants to press the matter with Dee. To ask her more questions about Sofie, and what was said over this illusive dinner they had together. How Yoongi had acted with her. But you know it’s not your place to pry. 
Yoongi deserves his privacy, and you refuse to let your paranoia infringe on that.
“I’ll get started on dinner,” you murmur, continuing on your way to the kitchen.
The feeling of unease stays with you for the remainder of the evening.
Last year
You’re filling in for a friend at the university library when the call comes through. Not on your mobile, because that’s been off all morning, but via the landline you didn’t even know the place had. Your supervisor hands you the phone with raised eyebrows, looking slightly rattled by whoever’s on the other line. 
“It’s for you. They say it’s urgent.”
‘They’ turns out to be an uncharacteristically flustered Yoongi. You’ve barely managed to greet him before he’s rushing to speak over you in a garbled voice, his tone simultaneously exhausted and frantic. 
“Dee’s sick,” he blurts, followed by the distinct sound of rooting through his cabinets. “The doctor said it was just a cold but - I don’t know, Y/N, her face is so hot and she can’t keep anything down, not even plain toast -”
“Okay, deep breaths.” You hold a hand up as if he were standing in front of you, doing your best to placate him. “Panicking won’t solve anything. What’s her temperature like? Is she drinking okay?”
“She was at a hundred last time I checked. I managed to get her to drink a little water, but she could barely even finish the glass.” He pauses to suck in a sharp breath. “Fuck, I think I’m having a heart palpitation. Should I give her a whole painkiller or half?”
You blink, taken aback by this new side to your employer. Eternally unmoved, it’s strange to hear his stress manifest itself in anything other than reclusiveness and a sharp tongue. You have to remind yourself how scary it must be to have your child fall sick - especially when you don’t have anyone to support you in taking care of them. 
“Hey,” you say, assuming a more gentle tone, “try to calm down a little, yeah? She’s only just pushing a fever. Her taste buds are out of whack right now, but you can put a dash of fruit syrup in her water to make the taste more bearable. One painkiller should be fine if you can get her to eat a snack with it.” You reach for your coat, shoving your free hand through the sleeve. “I’m heading to my car now, okay? I’ll be with you in twenty minutes. Just hang tight until I get there.”
Yoongi releases a shaky breath on the other end of the line.
“Shit,” he breathes. “I’m sorry, Y/N. Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it,” you say, signing yourself out. 
Things come to a head two days later, when the delivery guy shows up with enough parcels to fill Santa’s sled. 
You’ve managed to wrangle Dee into the living room while you find a spot to hide them all, but it’s no easy feat. You know she’ll sniff them out if you’re not careful enough. Thus, you find yourself in Yoongi’s home office, shoving the final few boxes under his desk. Due to the electrical work he’s in the middle of having done, there’s a strict policy on Dee entering this particular room unsupervised. 
“Finally,” you huff, the last package jammed tightly into the limited space beneath the desk like the final piece in a game of Tetris. You stand up and brush yourself off, feeling pretty pleased with yourself. 
The feeling is quick to dissipate, however, when you turn around to find you’ve somehow managed to miss one of the gifts. 
“Oh for goodness sake,” you mutter, glaring at the unassuming white shoebox atop the filing cabinets. “How many pairs of skates does one kid need?”
There’s no room left under the desk, so you figure one of the larger drawers will have to suffice. Crouching down, you root around in search of one empty enough to store it. 
Later, you’ll muse that it’s funny how something so small can flip your entire world on its head. You probably wouldn’t even have noticed the palm-sized box in Yoongi’s bottom drawer had your sleeve not got caught in the slide mechanism. You yank at it unceremoniously, somehow managing to dislodge the entire drawer in the process. 
“Fucking hell,” you mutter under your breath, the miscellaneous contents strewn all over the floor. 
Setting aside Dee’s gift, you start putting things to rights with a heavy sigh. Only then do your eyes fall to the dainty turquoise box that’s fallen between an old roadmap of Busan. Topped with a pearlescent white ribbon, the branding is unmistakable. 
You pause for a moment, blinking down at it like it might disappear if you stare long enough. When it doesn’t, you pick it up with shaky fingers.
You’re not sure what possesses you to do what you do next. Perhaps you need to see it with your own eyes. With your heart in your mouth, you flip the box open to peek inside.
There’s no denying that the necklace inside was designed for a woman. It’s custom made; dainty and romantic, everything about it practically screaming with intention. It’s almost comical, in fact, how very Yoongi it is. Who else could pull off a courting gift in this day and age if not him?
You laugh at the thought, ignoring the lone tear that slips down your face as you slide back onto your ass with a thump. The realisation that you’re actually crying over something like this makes you feel beyond stupid, but once you’ve started, you can’t seem to stop.
Nonetheless, you can’t bring yourself to peel your eyes away from the necklace either. You imagine Yoongi wandering into the shop during his lunch break and browsing the options - discussing her tastes with the clerk. Despite its beauty, you don’t have the stomach to take it out of the box. To open up the pendant and look at the photo. You think you might be sick if you read whatever beautifully intimate inscription he’s picked out to go inside.
You press your free hand down against your chest with a soft grunt. 
It hurts so much more than you thought it would. It hurts like a bitch.
“As if you thought he’d want you back,” you whisper, your voice thick. You bark a sharp laugh at your own idiocy. “Fuck. I’m such a loser.”
“Y/N?” Dee yells from the living room, and you almost drop the box to the floor in surprise. “The gingerbread men are burning! We gotta take them out!”
“C-coming!” you shout back, your throat tight.
You set the drawer to rights, shoving both the shoebox and the necklace back inside before slamming it shut. 
Last Year
“She really scared you, huh?”
Yoongi’s slumped over on the sofa, his head resting in his hands. With Dee finally asleep in bed having vomited, cried her eyes out, and clung to him like a limpet all through bath time, it’s no wonder he’s feeling worn out by this point. A quick glance at the clock tells you it’s almost midnight.
“Mm,” he groans into his palms, lacking the energy to even lift his head.
“Can I get you anything?” you offer, your voice soft. “Coffee? Something stronger, perhaps?”
He waves a hand vaguely. “Tea will do. I’ll be with you in a minute.” 
You round the corner into the kitchen area, flicking the kettle on before moving over to the fridge. As per usual, it’s covered in Dee’s drawings - more so now, given her recent interest in sea creatures. In between the rough sketches of sharks and jellyfish, there’s countless portraits too - you and Yoongi. ‘Uncle Joon’. Their car Freddy, who sadly found a new home before you could meet him. A self portrait. Yoongi again... ‘Mommy.’
You pause, looking over the picture for the umpteenth time. It’s the only depiction of Dee’s mother you’ve been given - a wobbly purple stick figure in a ruby red dress, with curly black hair that stops at her shoulders. She’s smiling. Her little stick hand is attached to Dee’s on one side, and Yoongi’s on the other. Much to your amusement, Yoongi’s mouth has been drawn as a characteristic straight line.
Apparently some things never change.
You’re so busy examining it that you don’t catch him padding in behind you.
“She’s quite the artist,” he remarks, leaning back against the counter.
You turn around, offering him a soft smile. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”
Yoongi shrugs. “They’re up there for a reason.”
The kettle reaches boil, and Yoongi observes quietly as you set about making the tea. He accepts his mug with a nod of thanks, but doesn’t drink it immediately. Instead he slides his finger contemplatively over the rim, catching a lone drip before it can roll down the side.
“Thank you for coming over tonight,” he murmurs, staring down into the dark liquid. “I really appreciate your help.”
“It’s no bother,” you say honestly. “You barely needed me at all, by the looks of things.”
Yoongi huffs a small laugh, but the sound falls just short of genuine. “It’s okay. I know I’m shit at this stuff. Elle always took care of the coughs and colds when Dee was small.”
You feel your heart skip a beat, only just stopping your tea from going down the wrong way.
He’s never said her name before.
Yoongi is watching you carefully, like he’s trying to gage your reaction. His dark hair shrouds his eyes. 
“It’s okay,” he confirms quietly. “You can ask.”
“What happened to her?” you breathe, like it’s something you’ve been holding in all this time. You didn’t even realise you wanted to know until he said it, but for some reason it feels like there’s so much hinging on his answer. 
You realise belatedly it’s because you want to know Yoongi. You want to understand the little intricacies that make him the man he is, and the woman who played such a big part of it. 
You want to earn his trust. 
“It was four years ago now,” he says, bringing a hand up to work the kinks out of his neck. “She fell ill out of the blue, and the doctors told us it was a lung infection. A rare one, especially given her age, but not incurable. Unfortunately, her body didn’t respond well to the treatment.”
You shake your head. “Oh, Yoongi...”
He nods. Places his glass down with a small sigh. Despite the fact he doesn’t open up often, it’s clear to see he’s made peace with his story now. There’s no anguish in his words; only the fleeting sadness of someone who’s known more loss than they should. 
“She spent her last six months in hospital, and during those last few weeks when she was sick… I’ve never felt so helpless in my life. I think that’s why it was hard today. With Dee.” He seeks out your gaze hesitantly. “I get scared seeing her like that.”
“Anyone would,” you say assuredly, secretly wanting nothing more than to close the distance between you and comfort him. You hold yourself back on principal. “But I promise you, Dee is going to be just fine. It’s just a stomach bug. Some kids are more prone to them than others.”
“I know.” He nods, sweeping his hair back. “I know, I just... get caught up in my head sometimes. Especially this time of year.”
“Totally understandable,” you nod. “You don’t need to explain yourself to me, Yoongi.”
Slowly, as if part of him is still waiting for you to press for more information, Yoongi picks up his tea again and takes a tentative sip.
“...Thank you,” he says after a long pause. 
You raise your eyebrows at him. “For what?”
“For loving Dee,” he clarifies. 
You smile at him softly in the dim kitchen light.
“Thank you for letting me,” you say, raising the mug to your lips.
Yoongi arrives home on Saturday evening, just as the second smattering of snow meets the ground. You hesitate when you hear him come through the door, staying behind in the kitchen as Dee skids into the entryway in her socks. You can hear the surprised grunt she forces from his throat as she flings her little arms around his midsection. 
“Oof. Hi there, kid,” he says, and you can hear the exhaustion in his voice after a long night of travelling. You imagine him lowering himself down into a squat so she can hug him properly. “Isn’t it past your bedtime?”
“Y/N said I could wait up for you.”
“Is that so?” he hums. “And where is Y/N?”
You sigh quietly, understanding that this is your cue. Steeling your nerves, you hike your duffel bag up higher on your shoulder and head out into the hall, your boots heavy against the hardwood floor.
Yoongi’s eyes sweep upwards when you round the corner, trailing all the way from your shoes to the hem of your coat, already buttoned to the top. You pause somewhat awkwardly in the doorway, and he rises to a slow stand. Despite having practiced three times in the bathroom mirror prior to his arrival, your attempt at a casual smile falls miserably short of hitting the mark. 
“Hey,” you say softly, wondering if you look as drained as you feel. You had next to no rest last night, woken at 2 am when Dee had knocked on your bedroom door claiming she’d had a nightmare.
“I can’t sleep now,” she’d said tearfully, clutching her stuffed rabbit to her chest. It was a gift from Yoongi when she was small - something she’s always kept extra close whenever he’s away.
“You and and me both, bug,” you sighed, picking her up gently to take her back to bed.
Yoongi’s coat is still on as he watches you. He eyes the bag on your shoulder warily.
“Hi,” he says, his tone somewhat tentative. 
He knows something’s up.
“How was your flight?” you ask, your gaze skirting all over the place in an embarrassed bid to do anything but meet his eyes.
“Tiring,” Yoongi nods. “It’s good to be home.”
“I’m sure,” you hum.
It’s uncomfortable. Even Dee seems to sense it, burying her face in Yoongi’s stomach again. He settles a hand on the back of her head, but his eyes never once leave you.
“You aren’t staying,” he says slowly, and it falls just short of a question.
You shift your weight from one foot to the other, your fingers tightening around the strap of your duffel.
“I can’t. My family... they’re expecting me.”
“I thought you said you weren’t headed home until Monday now.”
Finally, your gaze shifts upwards to collide with his. It’s not like Yoongi to call you out, but he can sense there’s something awry here. You’ve never been so quick to head out before, always sticking around to put Dee to bed or discuss how she’d been while he was away. Yet here you are - practically two seconds away from shoulder-checking him against the doorframe in your haste to leave.
When you speak again your voice is quiet, but there’s something in your tone that implies you won’t be taking further questions.
“Thing’s change.”
Yoongi blinks. Unable to formulate a response fast enough, all he can do is watch as you lower yourself down to kiss Dee’s head, murmuring that you’ll see her soon. When you straighten up, the small, closed-lip smile you offer him is tinged with sadness. 
“Enjoy your Christmas, Yoongi,” you say before moving towards the open door.
“Y/N, wait -”
“I really have to go,” you sigh, pausing with your back to him.
“Evidently,” Yoongi nods. “But I need to talk to you first.”
“Can’t it wait?” you grit out.
“I’m afraid not.”
You’re at war with yourself when he tells Dee to go sit in the living room for a minute; too distracted to be surprised that she goes without a fuss. Clearly, your weird behaviour is more obvious than you thought. 
Yoongi ushers you wordlessly into the hallway, pulling the door closed behind you both. 
“Y/N,” he says in a low voice, fixing you with a look.
You raise your eyebrows at him.
“What?” you say, crossing your arms defensively. You wince internally at how stand-offish you sound, but Yoongi does little more than quirk a brow. He slides his hands into his pockets.
“Explain,” he says levelly. 
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“You do.”
“Yoongi -”
“You know exactly what I mean, and you’re taking advantage of the fact that I’m shit at reading people’s emotions,” he cuts across you, an underlying note of warning in his tone. “Talk to me, or I can assure you we won’t be ironing this out any time soon - whatever this is.”
You blink, momentarily taken aback that he managed to work that out so easily. Then again, maybe you shouldn’t be. Yoongi’s always made a habit of observing more than he speaks.
“Is it Dee?” he presses, raising his eyebrows expectantly.
“What?” You shake your head. “Why would it be Dee?”
“I’m just throwing out options here,” Yoongi raises his shoulders in a shrug. “Is it me?”
“Yoongi, please…”
“Okay, so it is me,” Yoongi nods. “Good. Now we’re getting somewhere. Tell me what I’ve done, and I’ll fix it.”
“Christ,” you mutter, raising a hand to massage your temples. 
Ever the businessman, Yoongi’s answer to everything is cut and dry. He locates the problem and he fixes it. He despises leaving things up in the air like this, and if you didn’t feel so sorry for yourself over the fact that he’s screwing his work colleague (or at the very least, will be in the near future), you’d almost feel guilty for doing it to him. 
It’s better this way, you remind yourself. This way, no one else gets hurt.
Unfortunately, your employer has a knack for throwing salt in the wound without even realising he’s doing it. 
“Is it the money?” he asks out of nowhere, ticking his head to the side to look at you. “If you feel I’m underpaying you for your time, all you have to do is say so, Y/N. I can’t read minds.”
You open your mouth, then close it again without saying anything. 
For the second time since meeting Yoongi, the force of his words make you feel like you’ve been physically slapped. You glance away as the familiar lump starts to form in your throat.
“You know what?” you choke out. “Forget it.” 
Yoongi’s eyebrows furrow slowly. “Y/N -”
“Tell Dee I said merry Christmas.”
With that, you turn on your heel and make for the elevator, your eyes blurry with tears as you punch desperately at the dial.
Yoongi doesn’t call after you. 
Last year
“I’m really not in the mood for this, Mina...” 
“Just one more round!” your friend begs, clasping her gloved hands together with a pout. “It’s unfair of you to waste your god given talents like this. I need that plushie, Y/N!”
You narrow your eyes at her, your expression largely hidden behind the chunky knit scarf which obscures half of your face. Christmas Pikachu smiles at you mockingly through the glass.
“Fine,” you cave eventually. “One round. And you’re paying.”
Mina claps her hands in delight before pulling her purse out, shoving her coins merrily into the slot.
Around you, the Christmas Eve fair is in full swing. It’s an annual event, complete with ice rink and arcade games, the food stalls crammed with families and friends who are practically rolling in the festive spirit - something you can’t quite bring yourself to get into the swing of this year. 
You haven’t spoken to Yoongi since you left his apartment a week ago, though admittedly, this was not for lack of trying on his end. He’s texted you twice so far - once to ask if you’d made it to your parents’ house okay, and a second time to let you know your overtime payment had been transferred to you. Which, in hindsight, might not sound like much if you didn’t know Min Yoongi like the back of your hand. Getting him to respond to his messages, let alone send one -first-, was nigh impossible if it wasn’t a matter of business.
“So…” says Mina, leaning her shoulder up against the glass as the claw machine whirrs to life. “You’re really just gonna keep ignoring him?”
“Are we still talking about this?” you hum, fiddling with the levers. 
“I just want to know where we’re going from here, babe. You were in bits when you called me the other night.”
You sigh heavily. “There’s nothing to discuss, Mi. He likes another woman. He’ll be dating her by the new year, if he’s not already. The only thing I can do is suck it up and move on.”
Mina nods slowly, watching your side profile. “And what about your job?”
You gnaw the inside of your cheek, hesitating for a moment. Your voice is tentative when you say, “I’ve been in touch with the agency.”
Mina straightens up. “Y/N…”
“Don’t,” you murmur, your eyes remaining fixed on the claw as it descends. “Please don’t lecture me. I know it’s not ideal, but they said there’s a couple of girls on book who can take my place on short notice. They also said they get an influx of requests for sitters around new year, so I shouldn’t be out of a job too long if I play my cards right.”
Your friend’s expression softens. She reaches out to touch a gloved hand to your forearm.
“You know I only want you to be happy, right?”
You nod stiffly. “I know.”
“And if resigning is going to make you happy, then I’ll be right behind you the whole way. It’s just…” she pauses, biting her lip gently. “I know how much you love that kid, Y/N. And I can only imagine how much she loves you. I don’t want to see you hurt.”
“I think it’s a bit late for that, Mi,” you mutter, just as the claw drops Christmas Pikachu an inch from the chute. “And I’m pretty sure this shit is rigged. Let’s move on.”
“Giving up so easily?” says a familiar voice behind you.
You freeze. 
Turning slowly, your stomach sinks at the sight of Yoongi hovering a few feet away. He stands with one hand in his pocket, the other clutched tightly around Dee’s mitted fingers. The dark feathers of his fringe stick out from beneath the woollen beanie on his head, and you can’t help the way your heart clenches up painfully at the sight.
“Y/N!” Dee exclaims, breaking away from her father to close the distance between you. 
You open your arms to her on autopilot, your breath catching in your throat when she wraps her arms around your middle. She rests her chin on your stomach, cheeks flushed and rosy from the cold as she looks up at you with imploring eyes. 
“Where have you been?” she says, showcasing the gap in her front teeth. “Uncle Joon’s had to pick me up from practice three times now, and he’s so much worse at it than you. He doesn’t even let me listen to the radio,” she adds sullenly. 
“I’m sorry, bug,” you say softly, placing a hand on her hat. It’s shaped like a panda head, complete with button eyes and two fluffy black ears. “I’ve been... busy.”
“Y/N,” Mina prompts, not unkindly. Her eyes flicker warily over to Yoongi. “Are you going to introduce us?”
“Uh - right. Sorry.” You clear your throat, gesturing vaguely between them. “Yoongi, this is Mina, my friend from college. Mina, this is Min Yoongi, my -” You cut yourself off, embarrassment coiling in your stomach. “Dee’s father,” you settle for in the end. 
Yoongi steps forward to shake Mina’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Likewise,” Mina hums, though her tone is sceptical at best. “I’ve heard so much about you.”
Yoongi nods. He steps back with hands in his pockets, and you fear another awkward silence might be coming on until he glances sideways at the grab machine. 
“Anything I can help with?” he says, raising his eyebrows.
If Mina is taken aback by the proposal, she doesn’t show it. She’s the complete opposite of you when it comes to social situations. (Meaning she’s actually good at them for the most part).
“Only if you’re better at this stupid game than Y/N,” she sighs forlornly, pressing her finger to the glass. “Christmas Pikachu won’t stop staring at me. Fancy taking a stab at it?”
Panicked by the prospect of being around Yoongi any longer than you have to be, you’re quick to wave her off. “Yeah, I really don’t think -”
“Sure,” Yoongi cuts across you with a shrug, already pulling his wallet out. “How much is it for a spin?”
Dumbfounded, you find yourself standing awkwardly on the sidelines as the three of them crowd around the claw machine. While Mina leans up against the glass with her arms folded, Dee jumps up and down on her toes, cheering her father on as he works the controls. Yoongi barely spares you a glance, already far too absorbed in beating the machine before his time runs out.
Not twenty seconds later, Dee is squealing with delight as Christmas Pikachu dives down the chute with three seconds to spare. 
“Woah!” Mina exclaims, dusting the plushie off as she examines him. “Nice skills. You learn that in business school?”
“Of course,” Yoongi blinks. “They’re big on the fundamentals.”
Mina snorts, but you know she’s not won over just yet. She holds Christmas Pikachu out to Dee.
 “There you go, kiddo. Consider it an early Christmas present, hm?”
Dee’s eyes go wide, her lips forming a surprised ‘o’ shape. 
“Really?” she says in a small voice.
Mina shrugs. “He’s all yours. I don’t really rate guys who play hard to get anyway.” 
She shoots a pointed smile at Yoongi, and you elbow her hard in the back.
None the wiser, Dee accepts the gift with a happy little noise, hugging it hard to her chest. “Cool!”
Yoongi places a gentle hand on her shoulder.
“What do we say?” he prompts.
You can feel your heart thawing when the little girl blushes, realising her error.
“Thank you,” she says shyly, looking down at her pink snow boots.
Mina pats her affectionately between the panda ears. “No problem, kiddo.”
“Right. Well.” You clap your hands together. “It was wonderful seeing you both, but we should be heading back now. Mina and I have a thing.”
Your friend quirks an eyebrow. “Do we?”
“Yes, we do,” you hiss through your teeth, and the message seems to go through. Turning back around, you open your arms to Dee. “Got a goodbye hug for me, bug?”
To your surprise, Dee doesn’t indulge you. Instead she shrinks back behind Pikachu until only her eyes are showing, big and round and hopeful. 
“Aren’t you going to watch me skate?” she says in a small voice, the question muffled by his fur.
Your heart sinks. -Of course,- you think. There’s an ice rink at the fair, and Dee never misses an opportunity to get on the ice. She also never forgets a pinkie promise, and you’ve sworn to her on several occasions that you’d always be there to support her if you could. 
Not about to break your word like that, you sigh inwardly before forcing a smile. 
“Of course I am, bug,” you breathe, straightening up. “But just one round, okay? Mina and I will be watching from over here -”
“Y/N,” Yoongi cuts across you softly. 
Startled, you meet his eyes. It’s the first time he’s addressed you properly since his arrival, and there’s an expression on his face that you’ve never seen before. He peers at you tentatively from beneath his bangs.
“I was actually hoping we could watch from over there,” he says, nodding to a cluster of secluded benches over by the hot chocolate stand. Clearly he’s trying not to make things weird in front of Dee, but you have no trouble picking up what he’s putting down. 
Yoongi wants to speak to you. Alone.
You open and close your mouth a few times as you try to come up with a subtle way to reject him but (as she seems to be so fond of doing these days) Mina beats you to the punch.
“What an excellent idea,” she says, a firm hand on your lower back. “Y/N and Yoongi can go be boring grown ups over there, and in the meantime -” she holds her hand out to Dee with a smile, “- us two will hit the ice and have some real fun.”
Dee flashes her gummy grin, her tongue poking out through the gap her missing tooth left behind as she accepts Mina’s hand. Your friend glances at Yoongi with raised eyebrows, waiting for permission. 
“Fine by me,” he shrugs. He flips his wallet open again, but Mina waves him off.
“Ah, ah, ah. You’re not the only one with money, Mr Marketing guy. This one’s on me.”
Yoongi snorts at that, but he doesn’t protest when Dee tugs both Mina and Christmas Pikachu off towards the ice rink. As he slots his wallet back into his pocket, your friend tosses you a supportive smile over her shoulder.
“Sorry about her,” you mutter, wrapping your arms around yourself. You stare at the frozen ground beneath your feet. “She can be a little… hard to please at first.”
“Don’t be,” Yoongi shrugs, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. “I’m actually glad I ran into you both.” 
“You are?”
He hums lowly in affirmation. “It’s been a while.”
You bite your lip in embarrassment, suddenly unsure of what to say. There’s not much point in trying to defend yourself. Both of you know you’ve been ignoring him, and the fact that Yoongi’s acting otherwise right now is a professional courtesy you definitely don’t deserve.
“Come.” He says, jerking his chin in the direction of the benches. “I’ll buy you a drink.” 
He’s already walking away when you look up, and you have little option but to follow. 
Yoongi gently insists that you take a seat while he queues for your drinks, and returns five minutes later with two mugs of mulled wine. You accept with a quiet thank you, raising your eyes at the saran-wrapped cookie he slips into his coat pocket.
“For Dee,” he explains. 
The two of you lapse into an extended quiet as the new skaters take to the rink. Dee and Mina appear together, laughing as Mina nearly stumbles over right off the bat. They appear to have pawned Christmas Pikachu off to a good-natured attendant, who lifts the plushie’s paw in a wave every time Dee passes by. 
You can’t pretend the sight doesn’t hurt your heart a little. Dee is easily one of the best things that’s ever happened to you, and the thought of not seeing her as much come the new year feels just as painful as the alternative. 
You sip your drink, keeping your eyes glued to her even when Yoongi clears his throat. 
“So,” he says.
“Did I do something wrong, or?”
“N-no? Why would you think that?” you try.
Yoongi pins you with a look.
“Seriously?” he says, though his tone is not unkind. “You’ve been ignoring my texts for a week now. Dee said she emailed you an invite to her New Year's showcase and you still haven’t got back to her. She got Juliet by the way.”
You smile ruefully at your lap, thumbing at the rim of your mug. “I knew she would,” you say quietly.
Yoongi watches your side profile carefully. 
“Y/N,” he says, and you know there’s no wriggling out of it when he takes that tone. “Whatever it was I did, I can’t make it better unless you tell me what’s wrong. You know I’m not good at this stuff.”
You sigh, your breath spiralling upwards in a cloud of white. At this point, you feel utterly defeated. 
“Would it be cliche to say it’s not you, it’s me?”
“Then I’m sorry,” you shrug. “It’s the best I’ve got right now.”
Yoongi stares at you a while longer, his expression carefully blank. Then he turns back to the ice rink.
The pair of you sit in loaded silence for a few moments.
“So that’s it?” 
You shrug. “That’s it.”
Yoongi leans back in his seat. He says nothing.
You’re acutely aware that anyone passing by right now would think you’re a couple. You certainly look the part - sitting side by side in comfortable silence, watching your daughter having fun on the rink. And maybe in another life, in some alternate dimension, that’s exactly what you are. Just the three of you, with no hang-ups or baggage or strings attached. No complications. Just happy.
You almost jump out of your skin when Yoongi speaks again.
“You remember when you sent me that nude by accident?”
You choke a little on your mulled wine, your hand flying to your mouth.
“I - it wasn’t a nude!” you exclaim.
You stare over at him with wide eyes, but Yoongi keeps his gaze firmly on the ice rink.
“I blew up at you over the phone afterwards because I felt guilty,” he goes on, his voice a low murmur. “I don’t think I ever told you that.”
Your eyebrows pull together in confusion. “Why would you feel guilty?” you mutter. “I sent it, not you.”
Yoongi shakes his head minutely, still not looking at you. “The timing was all wrong. It was the anniversary of my wife’s death, and I was… I was confused.” His Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows. “I felt like I was disrespecting both of you at once. It fucked with my head.”
“I’m sorry, Yoongi,” you murmur.
“How many times are you going to apologise for my misgivings?” he says forcefully, and you shut up immediately at his tone. “You’ve done more for Dee in the past year than any school teacher or single parent support service has managed to achieve in five. You cook meals for her, watch every single one of her practices even though you don’t have to, and read to her in those stupid voices she’s always begging me to do.” You chuckle wetly at that. “Not to mention her confidence has shot up from having a woman around the house. She misses you like crazy now that you’re not around.”
“I miss you like crazy.”
You freeze. He’s looking at you dead in the eyes now, and his gaze is burning.
You flinch when something touches your hand, your throat constricting when you glance down to find Yoongi’s fingers wrapping tightly around yours.
“Come back to us,” he implores softly.
“I don’t think I can,” you whisper, your voice thick with unshed tears.
“Because I love you.”
The silence seems to stretch on forever. Your heart beats in your throat. 
When Yoongi retracts his hand, your heart shatters into a million pieces all over again.
“I love you, and you’re in love with someone else,” you say, cursing yourself when your bottom lip starts to tremble. You turn your face away, unable to meet his eyes as you continue. “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have been snooping, but I was looking for a hiding spot for Dee’s presents, and then the necklace fell out and… and when we called you Sofie was there, and Dee let slip that she’d been at the apartment to see you so I put two and two together, and I felt so awful, Yoongi... I felt awful that you’re trying to start this thing with someone new, and here I am wishing it was me instead. It’s not fair. It’s not fair to you, and it’s not fair to Dee.” You scrub the sleeve of your jacket under your eye. “You deserve to be happy. Dee deserves to see you happy.”
For a man known for being chronically unreadable, every emotion under the sun seemes to flicker over Yoongi’s face in that moment. Eventually, he settles on utterly bewildered.
“Shit,” he breathes. 
You laugh sardonically. “Yeah.”
“You... love me,” he says flatly.
“Please don’t make me repeat all that.”
He swallows. “And you found the necklace.”
“That’s what I said, yes.”
“The necklace for Sofie.”
You glare at him. “Are you trying to rub it in? Yes the necklace for Sofie.”
“Right.” Yoongi nods. “Just to clarify -”
“- Oh for god’s sake.-”
“- You mean this necklace, right?”
You pause mid-sentence when he pulls the box from his pocket, before narrowing your tearful eyes at him.
“I - Why on earth are you carrying it around with you?”
He thumbs over the ribbon gently, resting the box in his lap as he peers down at it.
“Dee and I are headed to her grandparents’ after the fair,” he hums. “I shoved it in my pocket because I was planning on returning it tomorrow.”
Your eyes flicker up to meet his face. 
“Why?” you dare to ask.
“Because last time I saw the girl I intended to give it to, it was as if she couldn’t even stand to look at me. How could I think I stood a chance after that?”
“Yoongi... what are you talking about?”
He passes you the box. “Open it.”
“I’ve already seen -”
Yoongi pins you with a deadpan look. “I won’t ask twice, Y/N.”
You open the box, and the necklace stares back at you. Even though you’ve seen it before, it’s delicate beauty still steals your breath away. 
“Look inside,” he prompts.
Tentatively, you do as you’re told, snapping open the silver locket with gentle care. It takes a few seconds for your brain to compute the image inside, but when you do, you’re clapping a hand over your mouth to muffle the pathetic sound you make. 
There, in the left hand side of the locket, is a picture of you, Yoongi and Dee, snapped by Taehyung shortly after that first skating competition you ever attended. You’re crouching at the side of the rink with your hands on Dee’s shoulders as she holds up her medal, the two of you grinning like idiots. A little further back in the shot Yoongi leans against the railings, his eyes fixated on the pair of you with an uncharacteristically soft expression on his face.
Your heart thuds dully when you realise he’s smiling. 
Your gaze shifts over to the inscription on the other side of the locket, written in simplistic cursive.
Because of you, I have something to hold on to.
Abruptly, your vision blurs with fresh tears.
“I don’t understand,” you croak.
Yoongi shrugs, leaning back against the bench. “What is there to understand?” 
“I… When did you even -?”
You look at him through wet eyes. 
“Paris was three months ago,” you whisper. 
He nods once, decisively. “I figured if I could make it to December without losing my nerve, then the timing would be right.”
You hold each other’s gaze. 
“You want... me?”
“Do you see anyone else here?” 
“But Sofie -”
“Is happily engaged, and came over to the apartment a grand total of once because she was phenomenally behind in her reports and needed the help. I have no interest in her,” he says frankly. “You on, the other hand, are pretty much all I’ve been able to think about for the past year.”
You sniff thickly, shaking your head. “I’m sorry, but I think you’re going to have to spell it out for me. I tend to read these things completely wrong, and I don’t want -”
“I’m in love with you, and you’re in love with me,” Yoongi states plainly. He nods towards the necklace. “Are you going to put that on at any point or just sit there blubbering over it?”
“Can’t we just have a moment for once?” you sob.
“I’m sorry, what else have we been doing for the past five minutes? All these emotions are exhausting me now. Please just put the necklace on so I can kiss you.”
Your eyebrows tug together pathetically. 
“You want to kiss me?”  
He rolls his eyes. “No not really, I just said that for dramatic effect.”
“Yoongi- mmph!”
You’re cut off when he slides his hands around your waist, tugging you forward to meet his lips. His mouth moves over yours softly, as if you’re something precious, and you practically melt into him. Placing a shy hand on his chest, you shudder as a languid heat seeps through every fibre of your being.
Your mind seems to still as the two of you kiss amidst the frigid night-time, and when you break apart a fraction your mingled breath is warm between you. Then Yoongi’s lips are at the corner of your mouth, and on your cheek, and your jaw, and finally hovering gently by the shell of your ear, causing shivers of anticipation to run through you.
“Listen closely, because I’m only going to say this once,” he whispers. “There is never a time when I don’t want to kiss you. I drive myself crazy just looking at you. You’re simultaneously the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen and the stupidest woman I’ve ever known because you have absolutely no idea what you do to me.” You bite down hard on your lip, eyes fluttering closed as he presses you closer against his chest. “You’re all I want, every second of the day. You’re it for me, Y/N.”
You feel overcome. The tears have barely ceased, but already you feel like you might start choking on sobs again. 
Unsure of how else to express how much his words mean to you, you wrap your arms around his neck and hug him.
“Say you love me again,” you whisper.
“Do I have to?” he murmurs back, holding you close.
“I love you.” 
“I love you.”
You hold him tighter, turning your face into his neck. “I love you too.”
“Mm. I think we established that earlier when you were -”
“Don’t think I won’t still throttle you,” you whisper softly against his pulse.
You can’t see it, but this time can practically feel him smiling.
You’re not sure how long you stay like that, wrapped up in one another’s embrace as the Heavens open up and a light snow begins to fall, but you can only assume it’s been a while. By the time Dee returns with Mina and Christmas Pikachu, she’s somehow acquired a tub of cotton candy. 
“Why are you crying?” she says through a mouthful of finely-spun sugar, totally nonplussed. 
“Hay fever,” you and Yoongi respond at the same time, quick to extricate yourselves from one another when you realise you’re no longer alone. Yoongi clears his throat awkwardly, his cheeks visibly pink beneath the overhead lights. 
“It’s December,” Dee hums.
Her father pins her with the look. “No one likes a smartass, kid.”
Mina smirks, her eyes flitting shrewdly between the pair of you. 
“All good?” she says.
You and Yoongi steal a shy glance at one another. 
“I think so,” he hums, the corner of his lips curving upwards slightly. 
When he slips his gloved fingers between yours two minutes later, with Dee skipping a few feet ahead of you belting Christmas carols and the cool touch of his locket against your heart, you know without a shadow of a doubt that he was right. This winter miracle - this strange new family you’ve built for yourselves - has finally given you something worth holding on to.
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missbickerbocker · 5 months ago
BTS Hyung Line Fic Recs
Read-Right-Now NSFW Fic Recs: BTS Hyung Line
Know that what I've recommended are my absolutely, most beloved, smut-filled, re-readable picks. Enjoy!
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Kim Seokjin
Woman of a Certain Age - Y/N has known Seokjin since he was born. She has even helped change Seokjinnie's diapers. Growing apart when Y/N went to the U.S. for college, Seokjin runs into Y/N when she is hired by Big Hit as a top consultant. Sparks fly despite Seokjin nursing a broken heart and Y/N trying to make partner at her firm. Will this noona ever see Seokjin as the man he now is? @vyduan
Leveled Up - You have no idea what you're doing when you log in to a new video game with your brother's beta code. But what you do know is that you want to see more of the dazzling virtual reality game he showed you despite the fact that you're not much of a gamer. And though you quickly realize you're out of your depth in this world, it gets even worse when you're pulled into a raid with a group of players who know exactly what they're doing – and have very little time for your amateur antics. This is how you meet Kim Seokjin, famous singer, famous gamer. Except, you don't who he is. You just think of him as KimRJ92. And he thinks of you as a puzzle to solve. @erinbrownwrites
Hideaway - Only the respected patriarch of the Kim dynasty thinks you are worth anything. Despite his vision, the rest of the upper crust sees you as nothing more than your station, a girl borne of a family that only ever existed to serve them. Cruelly, the only thing standing in your way is also the key to your success: having to take care of a smiley, goofy, lanky, drunk manchild in ill-fitting clothes who just happens to be next in line for the throne, and who has just inadvertently kidnapped you. The next three days with Kim Seokjin will make or break you. @bonvoyagenoona
Made-Up Love Song - Your first encounter with Kim Seokjin doesn’t go so well, nor your second, or your third… and maybe that’s because it shouldn’t work on paper. You’re an elementary school teacher living with your best friend, and have never left the country despite hitting the third decade of your life not so long ago. He’s the dad of one of your students, nearly a decade older than you and divorced. Oh yes, and just another minor detail – he’s a multimillionaire. Your lives are lightyears apart, yet somehow, your paths having now crossed, things just seem to fall into place… @floralseokjin
Don't Go Baking My Heart - You fall in love with Kim Seokjin’s bakery after wandering into it to take advantage of the post-Valentine’s Day discount on the chocolates. Maybe it’s the owner’s bad jokes, maybe it’s the other regulars, maybe it’s the delicious pastries. Or maybe there’s something more that keeps you coming back to that shop. @candlewaxandp0lar0ids
Off Limits - You’ve been lusting after your brother’s best friend for a while now, ever since you met him at a house party, flirting it up a storm as you failed to realise who the other was. That was months ago now and things are still awkward, but you can’t ignore the sexual tension that’s simmers between the two of you…and it keeps getting worse… @floralseokjin
Pride & Fidget Spinners - Seokjin has always prided himself on being the top mall kiosk salesman. His turf, the spot nearest to the fountain, is due to him being the undisputed best in the game. At least, until you arrive and throw his game into chaos. @kpopfanfictrash
All Along - It’s no surprise when you learn you’ll soon be engaged to one of the Kim brothers. What does come as a shock, is just how determined Seokjin is to make sure that person is him. @underthejoon
Min Yoongi
Countermelody -  This new city has already invigorated your tired bones and shy heart. The people here seem kind and exciting. All sorts of interesting silhouettes are always shuffling about, and you write little stories for each person who passes you by. Even the stationery shop next door is warm and inviting, and you’re grateful that Mr. Kang offers you the store manager job on the spot. But you get a funny feeling about things when he shows you the boxes in the back, the ones marked with red tape and the name MIN YOONGI scribbled on top. You wonder what makes this customer particularly special. You don’t know that the process of finding out will make you question why you ever moved here in the first place. @bonvoyagenoona (HELP I've read this one like five times)
Want a Taste? -Pretzel pro. Most skillful tongue in the food court world. Allegedly. Of course, you’re reasonable skeptical of his claims- but if there’s one thing that motivates this notoriously-lethargic man, it’s proving skeptics wrong. @suga-kookiemonster
Fortuitous - Your fates were sealed long before your paths crossed. Get your diploma and get married. You were similar in that way – both bound by outdated customs. Falling in love was never something either of you dared to dream about. Until it happened. @underthejoon
Shameless - Fleeing a scandal, Y/N signs with Big Hit Entertainment to launch her singer/songwriter career in South Korea. Denying her attraction to Suga out of fear from past betrayals, Y/N blunders through years in Korea as BTS gets more and more famous. Will she give into the chemistry she has with Suga, risking her career for a second time, and have her happily ever after? Or will she be doomed to be alone forever? @vyduan
The English Teacher - After watching an unfortunate interview with iHeartRadio, you write up a piece on ways BTS could improve their English interviews. Your post reaches the eyes of BigHit Entertainment who took what you had to say seriously. Now three months into your probation period as BTS’ resident English teacher, you’re finally beginning to understand both Korean and celebrity culture, as well as the toll of living lands away from your husband of ten years. As for one of the BTS members, he’s trying to understand you, too - as much as you’ll let him.
Carousel -  He is the successor of his family’s business empire, and you are the female heir of yours. After the trouble his older brother had created in the past, he now must face certain requirements needed for the sake of the family’s future and to save his rights of inheritance, and you become his only way out. Everything might seem so simple, just the way they are supposed to. But everything isn’t always what it seems, is it? @yoonia
Watermelon Sugar - Traveling alone to your dream destination had sounded like a good idea at the time. And you don’t regret doing it, of course not - you’re in Greece! The food! The sun! The smell of the sea! The white walls and blue chairs, the hills, the warm days and colder nights. A little company wouldn’t hurt, though. That’s how you end up talking to Min Yoongi, your next door neighbour with whom you practically share a balcony. He’s quiet, he barely leaves his room but when you reach out, he doesn’t push you away. That’s how your Greek adventure begins. @yoonjinkooked
Kim Namjoon
Roommates with Benefits - You and Namjoon are roommates. You're both really horny one morning. So you come to an understanding: It's not a regular thing. It happens on the couch. Kissing is allowed. Condoms, always. And just like that, you're roommates with benefits. @erinbrownwrites
Kakistocracy - As the top Senior Aides to the President of the Republic (a fictitious country based on no specific location whatsoever), you and Namjoon are nearly always at each other’s throats. The sole thing you agree upon is your president is an absolute idiot, with zero idea how to run a country. This is why, when a new threat emerges and your nation is plunged into chaos, you two are the only ones capable of keeping the world from disaster. If you can stop arguing long enough to try, that is. @kpopfanfictrash
For the Books: An Unlikely Holiday Romance - Kim Namjoon begrudgingly agrees to be part of the local library's annual holiday date auction.You are duped into buying a ticket to the library's annual holiday date auction by your best friend. Both you and Namjoon are dreading the actual event. Neither of you expects what happens next. @erinbrownwrites 
Office Hours - When you’re an early career researcher who has just broken up with the love of your life, who is desperately trying to keep your lab afloat, and who is still embattled in a years-long feud with the hotshot professor down the hall for the only tenured spot that will make itself available at this top tier university in at least the next decade, you really don’t have any choice but to save the emotions for another time. You don’t expect them to bubble up and out of you when you have a particularly rough day, and you certainly don’t expect refuge in the arms of your rival. But crazier things have happened in darkened hallways and behind closed office doors.
The Rich Man’s Crochet Club - When they were freshmen in college, Namjoon began a club with his six closest friends. The one thing they all had in common? Virgin-as-fuck. Obviously, they couldn’t call it the Virgins Club, and so, The Rich Man’s Crochet Club was born. Until time passes and Namjoon is the only left. Now, the Club has one final mission: to get Namjoon laid. @kpopfanfictrash
Obligated - Married by obligation, weighed down by circumstance. Except for those nights when you’re both drunk, falling into bed with one another and realizing you’re human. Occasionally this happens, occasionally you fuck. Until your life changes and you realize Namjoon, the very man you’re obligated to, might just be the very man that you crave. @underthejoon
The Body Through Time - When you’re offered a job as the graduate assistant for the Art History department at Bangtan University, it is a requirement for the department to sign their approval on the paperwork. You have one signature left and, unfortunately, he doesn’t want to see you. At all. @yeoldontknow
Jung Hoseok
Holly-Jolly Crisis - At this time last year, you thought you had it all: A kick-ass screenwriting job for the hottest TV show in LA, an actor boyfriend whose career was taking off, and an affordable apartment with not one, but two bathrooms. Fast forward to now, and you’re single, soon-to-be jobless, and searching for a way to scrape together January rent. Everything seems to be falling apart, which was why you told your family you weren't coming home for the holidays. Enter your little sister, Sara, who recently became engaged to her boyfriend, Yoongi, and needs you home to celebrate. The biggest problem? Returning home means you’ll forced to face everything and everyone you left behind, including Yoongi’s best man - and your ex-best friend - Jung Hoseok. @kpopfanfictrash
Madeline - It was supposed to be a one-night thing. Just one, perfect night to remember forever. Life, it seems, has other plans. @kpopfanfictrash
Trouble - How Hoseok lost his virginity (as part of The Rich Man’s Crochet Club) @kpopfanfictrash
Hot Rod - A 1950′s inspired fic where greaser Hoseok can’t keep his eyes, or hands, off the new waitress at his and his boys’ favorite diner. @kinktae
Guarded - You’ve tried to separate yourself from your infamous crime family, but a new case has your carefully-constructed world crashing down around you. Now you have to figure out how to heal old wounds and handle the new man who enters your orbit. @xjoonchildx
Systems of Touch - You know the works of renowned author, researcher, and professor, Jung Hoseok, and have the pleasure of meeting him in person at an annual gathering. Entirely infatuated with you, Hoseok wants to do things the right way - wait until you’re no longer a student. Whether or not you can abide by that rule? Time will only tell. @yeoldontknow
What’s Past is Past - After your eight years relationship comes to a brutal end, you don’t really see yourself getting back into dating — ever, probably. And then, your new neighbor who has the most beautiful smile you’ve ever seen needs to borrow a corkscrew, and you don’t realize it just yet, but your resolve doesn’t stand a chance. @candlewaxandp0lar0ids
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wavyyl0sr · 2 months ago
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PAIRING: bandmate!taehyung x bandmate!black fem reader x bandmate!jungkook
GENRE: bandmates, explicit, one-shot
WARNINGS: cursing, dirty talk, rough sex, degradation kink, creampie, fluff(?), choking, nipple play, mentions of handjob, blowjob, poly relationship, cock-slapping, mentions of fingering, cock-warming, voyeurism, aftercare(?..honestly who am i kidding?), dom!jungkook, dom!taehyung, sub!fem-reader
SUMMARY: where jeon jungkook & kim taehyung are close with you as bandmates but get closer for their own reasons...
a/n: to be fair, if this imagine isn’t so wow, it was my first attempt at making a poly-relationship imagine (smut at that). (old imagine!)
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You've been going at it since seven in the morning, both hands gripping on the drumsticks as you let the music play throughout the house. The lyrics that you and Jungkook made last week disintegrated in your mind as rage filled in your veins. You believed the beat of the drums would be fitting for the lyrics but it just wouldn't do and as much as you need Jungkook by your side to help you, you didn't have the heart to force him to leave dance practice just to take care of your own problems.
So you gave up, taking the chance to shower and let the stress become restrained. You think back to the lyrics but as you think, the only voice you could hear was Taehyung. He sounded ethereal in your mind, clouding ever thought you've had.
Your hands gripped the towel tightly as you stared at yourself in the mirror. The bags under your eyes had gotten darker and your fake smile became desolated. You were exhausted and having to lie almost every day about it made you more drowsy than you knew. Hearing a knock, you threw on a long shirt, most likely Jungkook's, and your black shorts on. Still having the towel wrapped around your body, you pull the front door open seeing the boxy smiled friend.
His smile, however, disappeared instantly seeing a tensed expression on your face. You two did not have to say anything, no words to be spoken, Taehyung could automatically recognize when you're not in your best.
You truly didn't know how cause, not even your own best friend could see it, you were good at masking your true emotions until it came to Taehyung. You didn't realize the big brown bag of food inside until Taehyung pulled out roti, curry chicken, fufu, and stew.
You smiled, at yourself, as you bite in your fingernail. "I hope you don't mind, I finished my shift not too long ago and I thought why not get you food while we go over the song." You nod, walking into the kitchen, washing your hands, Taehyung stands next to you playing with his rings as he waits his turn to wash his hands. Pulling two white plates out you clean them off and set them down on the table as you grab bottles of water for you and Taehyung.
Opening the plastic covers over the food, you make sure you leave some for Jungkook and some for tomorrow. Taehyung takes up the two plates of food and sets them down on the other table that was next to your brown colored couch.
You watch your friend get comfortable, and you sit beside him placing the bottle of water down. "Why do you look tired? Is it college?" He asks, bitting in the curry chicken. You chew on the roti and curry chicken a bit as you answer, "it's not that solely. It's the song, when I play the drums on it I get angry, like the beat of the drums is either too fast or either too slow. I was going to force Jungkook to come over but remember when I did that last time and he was a pain in the ass? So I gave up." You tell Taehyung truthfully, he nods at every word that left your mouth.
The candle that lit in your kitchen waft throughout your house, making your nerves calm down. "Aish, it's a good thing I came over with food, isn't it jagi?" He queries, playfully punching your thigh as your eyes roll jokingly.
You nod, letting yourself get fulled up with the delicious food. "You should've gotten those dumplings, Mrs. T makes every Sunday for the community. She would do it only cause you have a pretty smile in her eyes." Taehyung laughs, "what- I do have a pretty smile, look at me." You look up from your food seeing the gorgeous boxy smile on his face.
He was truly breathtaking, you never understood why he and Jungkook always complimented you when you felt not so pretty around people, specifically them. Yes, they made you feel gorgeous, more than gorgeous but you didn't believe it most times.
"Okay, okay, you're pretty but, I'm prettier." You say as you stick your tongue out. "I hope you know I'm agreeing with that." He tells you honestly. You don't say much but your expression tells him everything. The small hidden smile on your face made him grin, you truly are gorgeous.
You two finished the plate of food slowly to enjoy the flavorful meal. Taehyung cleaned up the kitchen while you placed the towel in the washer and got your journal out with lyrics filled inside it.
After Taehyung placed the big brown bag in your fridge he walks into your small studio you built a year ago with your cousin and Jin. "What are we doing?" Taehyung questions, hands clasping together as he sits behind the drum-set. You stand in front of him, opening the journal up to the last song you three made. "The song is heavy metal but the drums just sound weird, then I have my part where I rap and you come in right afterward. That's the problem." You tell him, your mind spirals out of control as you read the lyrics.
Taehyung stands, coming next to you. Placing his hand on your back, you try to not react as much while you two read the lyrics over again. "I realized when we originally sing it, it sounds flat. That's why it sounds weird with the drums." You place the book in his hands and pick the drums stick up as you start playing the melody.
He starts mumbling the lyrics but not loud for you to hear. You two started working, an hour passes, and Jungkook comes over helping you two a bit until all of you like the song. You guys were exhausted and Jungkook was itching for a shower. You watch Taehyung place Jungkook's guitar down as you two walk out of the room.
Jungkook was occupied in the shower while Taehyung played with whatever foolishness Jungkook left on your kitchen counter. Wrapping your hands around Taehyung's waist you quickly remember how fit the man is. "Y/n." He mumbles out, you smile as he raises his arm to see you better. "What do you need jagi?" You lean against his body, not having a thought to speak on. "I'm bored, ou do you wanna have a movie marathon?" He nods, the both of you turn as you hear the bathroom door open.
Jungkook was wearing black sweatpants with a tight white t-shirt that clanged onto his muscular body. His brown curls are damped and the towel he used on his body laid on his board shoulder. "We're gonna have a movie marathon, Y/n's choice." Taehyung's voice booms in your ears.
Jungkook nods, making his way to the couch as he turns the tv on for you. You let go of Taehyung as you walk to the pantry to get the popcorn package. Taehyung sits beside Jungkook, leaving space in the middle for you. You watch the two laugh about something while you wait for the popcorn to be ready.
It doesn't take long which makes you happy, placing slices of butter in popcorn you get comfortable between the two and picking the remote up as Jungkook eagerly grabs the bag from your lap. Placing your favorite movie series on Jungkook gets comfortable by laying his hand on your knee and Taehyung gets comfortable by wrapping his hands around your waist.
You three laugh at the funny parts of the movie, Taehyung, and Jungkook weeps at the sad parts and you three groan at the worst parts. Before you know it your in the last movie and your head is now laying on Taehyung's lap while your legs laid on Jungkook's.
The soft circle's Jungkook does on your inner thigh makes you shiver a little. Taehyung's lips are clanged on the palm of your right hand, pepper kissing your skin. Jungkook played with his shirt that you wore. The slim fingers dented your skin ever so nicely, of course, Jungkook was the one kneading your thighs. He lowered his head to kiss your skin, wet lips ghosting over your heated body. You laid there clueless as can be to their actions.
You thought at first their actions were innocent since they both show love throughout touch but that idea quickly disappeared when Taehyung rubbed his cold fingers over your right nipple. It was a slow nice sensation that made your body go weak. You bite your lip to hold your moan in, he only did it once yet it sparkled something in your lower body. You questioned yourself, wondering why you didn't think it was a good idea to wear a bra. You felt your nipples go hard from the air and Taehyung's taunting touch. Jungkook's hands rubbed your thighs up and down, softly kiss each of your legs. He kissed your lower stomach but ignored the place you needed physical touched more.
Out of reflex, you gripped Taehyung's thigh, you became needy just from their innocuous touch. Hearing laughter leave from his lips, you let go of him from embarrassment only to realize he was laughing at the movie.
The movement of Jungkook's fingers gliding down your inner thigh makes you shiver, you quickly shut your legs which makes Jungkook stop and let his warm hand move out. You whimper missing his intimacy. You were so caught up in feeling either Taehyung or Jungkook you didn't realize the movie credits showing. You sigh, getting up from the two as Taehyung picks up the empty bag of popcorn.
Jungkook's arms snake around your waist, pulling you backward against his lap. The feeling of his hips rocking under you makes you whine for something more. "Jung-" you cut yourself off as you feel the hardness of his dick hit against your ass. It wasn't a secret to anyone, everyone knew your crush on Taehyung on Jungkook, you were sure they knew too. Jungkook spreads his legs open, making you fall into the chair as his hands pull you closer to his chest.
You snap your neck to the left, seeing Taehyung is oblivious to Jungkook's actions. Nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck, his tongue swipes against your skin, making you lean to the side to give him more access.
Your eyes shut from the sensation, "such a dirty girl, liking the way I touch you. Do you fuck yourself? Fuck yourself to the thought of me?" You whimper, his hands groping your breast as he questions you. His hot breath fans against your skin, making you feel so gone. Too gone to realize Taehyung is standing right in front of you watching Jungkook tease you with his words and hands.
Your eyes flutter open, locking with Taehyung's instantly as you do. He smirked watching you lose control under Jungkook's words. "She doesn't even know what to do with herself, you got her all fucked. Isn't that right, jagi?" He squats down in front of you, grabbing your chin, you can see how blown out his eyes are, yet you nod.
"So naughty, letting Jungkook touch you like that. So greedy, you wanna be shared? You want us both to fuck you? Our cum oozing out of that pretty pussy of yours? You want that, baby?" His grip on your chin tightens as Jungkook softly kissed your neck. You nod, "ah, answer me. I wanna hear that pretty voice of yours." You gulp down on your saliva, whispering a yes to him.
Jungkook lightly hits your thigh as Taehyung pulls you apart from Jungkook. You stand, clinging onto Taehyung's shirt as you do. "Don't act all innocent now, we haven't done anything yet." He chuckles out, you look down letting him go as you feel Jungkook wrap himself around you.
"Cmon, baby. Show us your room." Jungkook mumbles in your ear. You listen walking out of the living room as your heart beats quicker than normal. You were so sure Jungkook can feel it, opening the door the two let you walk in before them.
You hear the door slam shut which makes you jump, you wished you weren't so jittered all of a sudden. The two men walked over to your bed, Jungkook sat at the edge of it while Taehyung stood beside him, arms crossed. You still stood in front of them, hands clasped together as you look down at the floor.
"Hm, look at your neck. So pretty and not even bruised from our lips." Taehyung says, stepping forward, you look up, feeling his hands wrap under your chin once again, making you tilt to the side as he does. The sinister smirk made your body weak and your mind filled with thoughts only Jungkook and Taehyung could fix. His right hand gently wraps around your waist, pushing his knee between your legs to make you submit to him fully.
"You're gonna be a good girl for us and strip every piece of clothing you have. Right in front of us. Do I make myself clear?" He whispers, you mutter a yes. Feeling a soft kiss being placed on your forehead, Taehyung walks back to your bed, sitting next to Jungkook as he man-spreads to ease himself a bit.
Their eyes never leave yours, you slowly pull Jungkook's shirt off tossing the white shirt somewhere behind you. The cold air hits your body once more, feeling your nipples become hard again you pull your black shorts down leaving your underwear on. Wrapping your arms over your breast, Jungkook stands, making his way to you. "Baby, you're safe. Don't forget that okay?" You nod as Taehyung stands behind Jungkook with a comforting grin.
"There are three colors I'm going to tell you, this is for your own safety. Red means to stop, yellow means calm down, and green means continue. Remember these colors and the meaning. Okay?" Taehyung's voice is a lot more comforting than the last time which makes you ease up. You nod, not trusting your voice at the moment. "What color are you now?" Jungkook pipes up, "green." You whisper, just loud enough for them to still hear.
Feeling a smack against your left ass you yelp, feeling a soft rub afterward. "Hmm, let's get this off of you," Jungkook says, mostly to himself. He squats down, hooking his fingers at them of your underwear he teasing pulls it down, eyes full of lust.
Taehyung looks at you two as he sits back down at the edge of the bed. Jungkook runs his fingers through his hair, hands tightly gripping the side of your waist to make you stand still. His lips ghost over your wet pussy, softly licking up your arousal. You were needy for him and the teasing didn't help either. "Make her suffer, I wanna see my girl beg." Taehyung's words interrupt your thoughts.
You pout which makes him chuckle, "you can pout and whine all you like, jagi. That won't get you anywhere." Before you can mutter something, Jungkook slips a finger in you, purposely making you shake against him.
Jungkook's finger continues to torture you as he slips a second finger in you. He started slow, making you enjoy it for the moment until he decided to go quick for your moans.
Your eyes flicker up as you see Taehyung watch you guys, his hand wrapped around the base of his dick, rubbing it up and down slowly as you two made eye contact. You watched his pre-cum roll down to his hand helping him more than it should. Feeling a heavy smack against your ass you look down, "you look at me, he'll have his turn soon." You listen, feeling Jungkook's fingers slow the pace down as you try your best to look at him only.
You felt so gone and knowing there was more to this made you feel like heaven. You moaned incoherent words while Jungkook smirked, enjoying this moment.
"You sound so pretty, just imagine my dick inside you, pounding this pretty pussy of yours. Hm, you like that don't you?" You pulsate around his fingers, the idea made you even wetter around him. You were so close to cumming and needed him to quicken the pace. "Please, I'm s-so close." You say breathlessly. Jungkook doesn't listen to your begging, just only enjoying the moment.
Feeling his fingers slip out of you, you whine missing him already. He chuckles licking his fingers as you stare. "Such a good girl, taste so good," Jungkook says proudly, you glance at Taehyung, his pants are zipped up again and is wiping his hand on a piece of napkin. "You ready for punishment, angel?" Taehyung questions, he stands in front of hands wrapped around your waist, patiently waiting for an answer. "I thought we were done?" Taehyung shakes his head, clicking his tongue. "Baby, we haven't even started." You don't get the chance to say anything as you get thrown on the bed.
Taehyung and Jungkook tower over you, as you push yourself back up with your forearm. Your so desperate for them and they see it. "Look at our pathetic slut, so whiney for us. You think she can take it? Take both of us at the same time?" Taehyung questions, his arms wrapped together as Jungkook tilts his head.
"I don't think, you think you can handle two cocks at the same time?" You nod rapidly, wanting to feel something. The two chuckles, Taehyung leans closer to you, wrapping his hand around your throat, he raises a brow.
"You're that desperate for us, fucking pathetic but I expected nothing less with you. Such a slut for us, aren't you?" Your teeth graze over your bottom lip as you nod. "I want to hear that pretty voice. Next time won't be a warning." You listen, mumbling a yes as the two looks at each other. "Go ahead, Taehyung. Fuck her like she deserves it." Taehyung doesn't pass up Jungkook's words. Pushing you back on the mattress his body strength feels good against yours. Gently, he holds your chin, eyes filled with desperation.
"Hm so cute under me, so submissive." He mumbles, Taehyung stares at you hungrily, chuckling when you squirm under him.
Dipping his head in the crook of your neck you feel his lips clasped on your collarbone sucking softly on your skin. Your left-hand wraps around the back of his head, gripping tightly on his soft hair as he continues to mark you. You sigh breathlessly as you feel his wet tongue attaching to your nipple, already sensitive, he swirls his tongue around your bud purposely while you moan. Lowering his right hand down to your stomach, you let your body arch up for him. Muttering a soft fuck Taehyung flickers his eyes up at you, smirking at your despair.
His hand forcefully moves your thighs open, "hmm, what do you want, baby?" You look at him, feeling so vulnerable. "You. I want you." You choke out, he scoffs, smacking his hand against your cunt. He watches you jolt up, incoherent words spill out of your mouth while Jungkook laughs.
"So wet for me and all I did was kiss you. That's how desperate you are for my dick?" Taehyung's hands sneak up on your throat, tightening his grip around you. You feel his dick on your lower abdomen, quickly getting harder and bigger as time passes. You help Taehyung by unzipping his jeans, watching him pull the jeans off fully only leaving his boxers you don't realize how much air you're holding on till Taehyung wraps his hand over your throat again.
You never thought your fantasies of the two men you loved dearly would be fucking you like they hated you would come true. "Cmon baby, don't make me do all the work." Implying, his eyes land on your hands as you easily understand what he means.
Pulling his boxers down his dick springs up softly hitting your hand. You sit there in awe while Taehyung holds his hand around his dick. Grabbing your chin, you feel your cheeks squish in his other hand. Your mouth gapes open while he laughs mockingly. "You're such a whore, a dirty whore who thinks she can take two dicks at once but squirms like a pathetic bitch from one kiss. Isn't that what you are? Our pathetic bitch?" His eyes pierced through yours, making you feel devoted to him. Squeezing your cheek, you answer yes with a mumble.
"Hm, such a good girl." His dick twitches right in front of your face, he aligns the tip in front of your mouth, "now be an actual good girl and take me until I had enough." Not giving a slight warning Taehyung shoves his dick down your throat making you gag around him.
He groans deeply, head laying back as you suck him off. The muffled moans that left your lips vibrated on his wet dick, which pleasured him more. With one hand, he pushes your head deeper on his dick. Your saliva mixed with his pre-cum which starts to drip down onto your chin and down the valley of your breast. Taehyung face-fucks you more, making struggle with breathing. Feeling his hips thrust back and forth, you choke almost every time he does. "Mhm, struggle like the slut you are. You like when I make you struggle don't you?" You don't get to answer when he pulls his dick out of your mouth only to slam himself back in you.
"So messy, getting cum all over you." He chuckles as you continue to please him. Twitching in your mouth, you force yourself to go deeper, moans spilling out of his mouth. Before you know it you feel a load of cum hits the back of your throat.
Pulling his dick out of your mouth you try to catch your breath while Taehyung stared at you with a sinister smirk. You look Taehyung in the eye as you swallow his cum, "open," you obeyed, opening your mouth while you stuck your tongue out for him. Taehyung grins, swiftly taking his shaft, and unexpectedly slaps your cheek with his dick.
"So good, mhm. What color are you now, baby?" You softly smile, it was crazy how dominant Taehyung can get just only to be kind to you in seconds. "Green." You hear Jungkook and Taehyng chuckle, as your pussy aches.
You felt the wetness of your pussy drip down from your slit onto your inner thighs. Jungkook stood beside Taehyung, both of them staring down at you with nothing but lust. The bed dips while Jungkook presses his knee between your right leg. His hand runs smoothly up and down your leg causing goosebumps on your skin. "You know what I want, baby?" His voice is innocent yet you know the intention behind it.
"I wanna fuck you from behind. I wanna cum in you as you beg for me to stop. Your so wet for us, so wet and I wanna get a feel, can I? Can I fuck you stupid?" He bites on his bottom lips, eyes igniting with trouble. "Yes, please." You were so speechless, yet you wanted more, and they both were willing to give you that.
Jungkook pulls you up, letting sit on his thigh, before you could comprehend his movements he turns you around, making you lay on the bed again with your face laying on your pillows and your ass up. His slick fingers run over your cunt, softly poking your ass. "Your gonna take me, hmm? Your gonna be so good and handle me. No whining either." You didn't understand the last part and you didn't get the chance to either once you heard his clothes get thrown somewhere across the room.
You feel him closer to you, his hand lays on your shoulder making you shake from the abrupt feeling. Jungkook spreads you apart, mumbling words under his breath while he does. Holding his dick, he pumps himself a couple of times, finally placing his hard dick right at your entrance. Jungkook doesn't slip himself fully, instead, he rubs himself up and down against your folds using your wet cunt for lube.
You finally reached your limit, pushing yourself against his long length you and him both moan in unison while he smacks your ass for misbehaving. "You're so damn needy." Pushing his thick length in you, your pussy pulsates around him. You both breathlessly moan when he's fully inside you.
His grip on your shoulder tightens when you sway yourself against him. Taking that sign, Jungkook starts the pace slow before picking up the speed. You thought you could handle his size but felt like a fool after realizing he's much bigger than you thought. You loved the feeling of him fucking you senselessly, feeling the bed dip once again, you turn your head to the side just seeing Taehyung, his boxers are back on and you realize that Jungkook is fully naked. Leaning closer to you, Jungkook plants kisses all over the side of your shoulder, pushing himself in and out of you. You gasp when you feel your hand move to Taehyung's chest. Now having to place half of your weight on your right forearm, you look at Taehyung, eyes dewy with signs of lust.
Kissing the palm of your hand, Jungkook thrusts into you deeper and rougher. Your eyes stayed on Taehyung while Jungkook's other hand travels down to your clit, fingers moving in circles against your sensitive bud making your eyes roll back and loud breathless moans leave your lips.
Taehyung lets your hand run down his body, heavy breathing and hazy thoughts cloud everything for you. Pulling Taehyung's boxers down, you quickly wrap your hand around his aching dick. Slowly moving your left hand up and down, you struggle as Jungkook thrusts fasten. You close your eyes, pumping Taehyung's dick in your hand, slowly but surely hearing soft moans leave his lips. "So good, keep going jagi." Taehyung mumbles, you listen, pleasing him as much as you can while you roll yourself against Jungkook's dick.
The three of you are a moaning mess, feeling so close to climaxing, You let go from holding Taehyung, gripping the sheets as Jungkook grips your waist. Your breathing was unsteady as for Jungkook's, feeling warm strings of cum land everywhere on you and you in, you moan feeling yourself cum all over Jungkook's dick.
Thrusting inside you for a little while, Jungkook pulls out watching your cum mix with his, dripping all over your bed as you sigh out of breath. Glancing over at Taehyung, you see him smirking, tired eyes but not knowing his stamina.
"Mhm, such a good girl for us. Took us both with no complaints." You were exhausted but felt like you needed more as those words leave Taehyung's mouth. Feeling his arms pull you closer to him, he presses kisses against your neck while you wrap your arm over his. Jungkook lays next to you playing with your hands while you laid next to them peacefully. It was silent for a second until Taehyung spoke up. "Baby." His voice was kind and suggestive, you hum, waiting for a response. "Have you ever tried cock-warming? Do you even know what it is?" Your brows furrowed, turning your head a little you shake your head no.
"It's when someone, in the case, me. It's when I would push my dick in you. A more intimate way of spooning." You lay there, watching Jungkook fall into a nap. "We can try that...if you want." He grins but you don't see, feeling his dick poking your entrance, your right leg lays on top of his letting him fully push himself in you. Softly moaning, his hand attaches onto your breast, groping it softly as you whimper.
447 notes · View notes
jjungkookislife · 8 months ago
Nine Months (M)
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↬ pairing: maknae line x f. reader
↬ genre: parents to be au, established relationship au, smut
↬ summary:  Nearing the end of your pregnancy, Jungkook finds it nearly impossible to keep his eyes off you.  When Taehyung notices, he invites him into your bed... along with Jimin.
↬ wc: 5.7k
↬ warnings: cursing, pregnancy kink, lactation kink, mention of past poly!relationship (vminkook x reader), pet names, marking (hickeys), fingering (f. receiving), oral sex (f. giving and receiving), voyeurism, m. masturbation, spanking, cock slapping, gagging, choking, creampies, degradation, overstimulation, light cumplay
↬ date: December 30, 2020
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Jungkook couldn’t help but stare, his eyes fixated on the curve of your stomach. His body grew hot, almost stifling, as his tongue peeked from between his lips to moisten them, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.  
You were oblivious to his face, one hand on your lower back and the other on your stomach as you paced back and forth in the kitchen, waiting for Taehyung to come home from a business meeting. You were due any day now, you’d actually gone past your due date. All the boys were on high alert and Taehyung had forbidden you to be alone at home in case you went into labor or needed medical attention.  
Today, you were under Jungkook’s watchful eyes, his smoldering gaze going unnoticed by you. By now, your pacing had caused you to sweat slightly, so you went over to your birthing ball and sat on it. You held your phone in your hands, slowly bouncing on the ball as you scrolled through your socials. 
Jungkook felt like he couldn’t breathe. His eyes were wide, his throat was dry and all he could focus on was the way your breasts bounced, barely contained by the fabric of the baggy shirt you had stolen from him. Lately, you had gone around the apartment, stealing his oversized shirts along with Taehyung’s, foregoing bras and bottoms altogether for the sake of being comfortable. Not that any of them minded.
He wondered if your tits would pop out of the shirt if you bounced any harder. He was unable to look away as you placed your phone on the coffee table, placing your hands on your knees as you bounced. You could feel the heavy weight of your chest as you moved, soft whimpers escaping your lips as you rolled your head forward and back. 
Jungkook could feel his jeans tightening, his cock hardening as he watched the gray shirt stretch across your chest, your nipples poking through. This is how it ends, Jungkook thought as he wriggles in his seat on the couch, rubbing the sweat off his hands on his pants. He gulps, hoping Taehyung will get home soon so he can run off to his bedroom and get himself off.  
As if by some magical occurrence, Taehyung walks through the door minutes later, a bright smile on his face as his eyes land on his beautiful girlfriend.  
“Tae!” You greet him, bouncing faster and higher. Taehyung can’t help but stare at the way your breasts bounce, almost spilling out of your top. Taehyung bites his lip, suddenly feeling aroused as he sees you continuing to bounce on the ball, remembering how you were just bouncing on his cock earlier this morning before his meeting. 
“Hey, baby. How are my girls?” Taehyung asks as he crosses the living room, walking past Jungkook to kneel in front of you. His hands replace yours on your knees, halting your bouncing for a moment as his hands roam up your body to cradle your belly in his large hands.  
“We’re doing okay, Tae.” You assure him as he places kisses on your stomach, his hands then grabbing the hem of your shirt to pull it upward so your stomach is exposed.  
Jungkook shuts his eyes, cursing in his head as he feels his jeans constricting. He feels like he’s going to combust if he opens his eyes to look at you. He’s thankful that you and Taehyung are lost in your own world to pay him any attention.  
“Fuck, your boobs look massive! I’m surprised they haven’t spilled out of your shirt yet, although I certainly wouldn’t mind if they did.” Taehyung licks his lips, his hands gently cupping your breasts, he’s not surprised to see you’re not wearing a bra, but he’s surprised to see the gray material grow darker. 
Jungkook peers an eye open and then the other, his eyes landing on your shirt where it’s grown darker. He furrows his brows, confused as to how that could have happened when it had all been the same shade just moments ago.  
“Shit,” Taehyung’s voice is deep, sultry as he runs his fingers over your shirt on the wet spot. 
You blink once, twice before looking down at your shirt, your eyes widening when you see you’ve started leaking again.  
“Fuck, I’m sorry. I’ll go clean up.”
“No!” You’re shocked by both Taehyung and Jungkook’s shouts.  
Taehyung turns to look at his younger friend, whose cheeks have turned cardinal as he fidgets in his seat under his elder’s gaze.  
“Looks like Jungkook is a fan as well,” Taehyung smirked deviously, his gaze firmly planted on his junior as he pulls your top over your breasts.  
You watch your boyfriend as he exhales profoundly, his eyes riddled with lust as he sees the small beads of milk roll down the curvature of your belly. Taehyung growls, his chest rumbling as he carefully takes your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, gently squeezing it. He’s delighted to see a few more drops spill, his head leaning forward as he sticks his tongue out to capture the droplets. 
Jungkook’s frozen solid, his hands gripping his jeans so hard his knuckles have gone white. His breathing has grown heavier, ragged as he watches Taehyung from his spot, wishing it was him in Taehyung’s place. He swallows thickly, nibbling on his bottom lip for a moment as he feels his cock straining against his boxers, aching to be released. He slouches forward, sitting with his legs spread open to help ease his erection, but it does little to help. 
Taehyung moans, his eyes fluttering shut, his lashes resting on his cheeks as he savors the taste. You watch him, your hand coming to stroke his hair gently as you feel his tongue lick at your breast. You feel hot, your thighs aching to clench together to soothe the need between them, but your boyfriend keeps you from getting the relief you crave. He’s too occupied by this new revelation to notice the way your breathing has changed, to see the way your eyes have filled with lust as you watch him tentatively squeeze your full breast. He’s amazed at the way more milk dribbles out slowly, a deep moan filling the air as he licks it up.  
Finally, Taehyung sits back, drawing his attention toward his friend who has been watching this go down. With a salacious smile, Taehyung raises his index finger, using it to call Jungkook to join the two of you. 
“Jungkook, come get a taste.” Jungkook’s deep brown eyes widen, his saliva getting caught in his throat, making him choke for a moment. Taehyung chuckles, shaking his head at the boy before telling him to come over. 
Jungkook rises from his seat slowly, nervously crossing the short distance to fall to his knees beside his best friend, the father of your baby. Taehyung places his hand on his back, rubbing it in soothing circles before he scoots to the side, making you spread your legs further. Taehyung grips your hips, making sure you don’t lose your balance.  
“Don’t be scared,” you giggle, reaching down to cup your breast and offer it to Jungkook. He hesitates, turning to look at his friend. Taehyung nods encouragingly, slightly pushing him forward. Jungkook wets his lips with his tongue, exhaling before he timidly sticks his tongue out to allow the few droplets that have formed to fall on his tongue. He moans as they hit his taste buds, his head tilting back, exposing his gorgeous neck as he swallows gratefully. You taste delicious, he knew you would, and it seems surreal that he’s gotten a taste of you.   
“Delicious, right?” Taehyung asked. Jungkook opens his eyes. He looks drunk with lust as he nods through his daze. Taehyung chuckles, shaking his head as he pulls your shirt back into place before he has Jungkook stand behind you as he rises. Taehyung helps you get off the ball, Jungkook’s hovering behind you in case you stumble so he can catch you. 
Taehyung takes one of your hands, Jungkook taking the other as they lead you down the hall toward the bedroom you and Taehyung share. Jungkook can feel the butterflies in his stomach, and although he’s been with you before, he still gets nervous around you.  
Taehyung has Jungkook help you onto the bed, making sure you’re comfortable before he gets on the bed. Jungkook is on his knees, his palms on his jeans as he watches you for a moment.  
“Kiss her, Jungkook. She’s not going to break.” Taehyung says, his hands pulling his shirt upward and off his body to toss to the side as he sits behind you with his legs on either side of you.  
Jungkook blushes, moving forward to caress your cheek. Taehyung kisses your cheek before whispering, “It looks like Jungkook is a fan of your milk filled tits too. Wouldn’t he look hot drinking from them again?”
You moan in response, spreading your legs further apart as Taehyung slips his hand into your wet panties. The shirt you’re wearing soaked through with milk. Your nipples pebbled and poking through the shirt.  
“Jungkook?” Taehyung calls, making his eyes widen. “Don’t be shy, Jungkook.  We know you find her attractive,” Taehyung smirks as he lifts the shirt to rest over your round stomach. 
Jungkook is breathless, eyes wide and cock throbbing in the confines of his pants as he stares in awe of you. Despite having his lips around your breast earlier, seeing you again left him star struck. He gulps, looking from your tits to your eyes.
“Is this okay?” he asks.
“Yes,” you answer in response as you take his shaky hand and place it on your breast. Jungkook sighs in relief as he feels your skin underneath his palm.  Taehyung watches on intently from behind you as Jungkook adjusts himself on his knees, gently caressing your full breasts.
“She’s not made of glass, Kookie. You can touch her like normal… although her nipples are more sensitive, she'll tell you when to stop,” Taehyung informs him, and Jungkook is thankful for the information. He swallows thickly, nodding as he cups your breasts, his thumbs brushing your pert nipples.
“Can I?” Jungkook asks softly, licking his lips as he stares blatantly at your tits.  You giggle, nodding as Taehyung pushes your hair to the side, planting kisses on the column of your throat as his hands rest on your thighs.
“Tae,” you moan, your head resting on his shoulder seconds before Jungkook’s pretty lips wrap around your nipple, coaxing milk to fill his mouth.
“Fuck,” Jungkook groans. The taste of your milk is intoxicating. He can’t seem to get enough as he switches breasts. Taehyung feels his cock throb, watching his best friend suckling your tits. He thinks about all those times the three of you had been a thing before you decided to call it quits, as you both became more serious about having your own baby.
“Fuck.” Jungkook curses again, reveling in the euphoria that consumes him. He wants you so fucking bad. He wants to bury his cock inside you once again, feel the warmth of your wet cunt wrapped around him as you milk him for all he’s worth.
The thought alone has his cock straining against his pants, his hand moving to unbutton his jeans and pull the zipper. The relief is minimal, but he’s too focused on licking up every droplet that flows from you to care.
Taehyung moves behind you, stripping down to his boxers before Jungkook does the same. Taehyung’s cautious hands pull the shirt off your body, tossing it to the side before Jungkook takes your panties off.
Jungkook cups your face, kissing you. You kiss him back, moaning when he tugs gently at your bottom lip, your hands lacing in his hair as Taehyung cups your tits, rolling the nipples between his fingers.
You don’t think you can experience more pleasure than this. You’re so aroused, you can feel your wetness coating every inch of you as Jungkook grips your thigh, his fingers slowly making their way to the apex of your thighs before he’s pushing two of them into you. 
Taehyung kisses your neck, allowing Jungkook to kiss the other side as they both mark you. You moan, wanting more of them, not caring what they do as long as they’re touching you in some way or another.
“Please,” you plead as you grin Jungkook’s arm, making him push his fingers deeper into you. Jungkook’s eyes widen in panic, but you assure him you’re fine. He hesitates, looking at Taehyung, who nods in response.
“Let him eat you out,” Taehyung smirks. Jungkook blushes, but slots between your thighs as you lean back on Tae’s chest. Jungkook licks his lips, gripping your thighs before planting kisses on your inner thighs. You grip Taehyung’s hand, moving slightly so you can kiss him as you feel the first swipe of Kook’s tongue on your cunt.
“Jungkook!” You gasp, back arching. Taehyung chuckles as he kisses your cheek. Jungkook swells with pride as he dives back in, his tongue working wonders on your cunt.
“That’s it, Kook. Eat her cunt. You’ve missed eating her pussy, haven’t you? Show her just how much,” Tae smirks as you grip Kook’s inky locks tightly. You squirm beneath him, whining and moaning as his tongue laves at your clit. You’re a wet, dripping mess, but Jungkook is loving every second as he licks up every drop of your arousal. Your thighs quiver as he places them over his shoulders, his cock rutting into the mattress.
“Please.” you sob, feeling overly sensitive as your thighs tremble and you grip your boyfriend’s hand. “Ah! Jungkook!”  
“Come on, love. Cum for him. Cum for Jungkook,” Taehyung encourages sweetly as he rolls your nipples between his fingers. He kisses your neck, watching you come undone.
“Fuck, Tae. Jungkook!” you cry out as you orgasm, but Jungkook doesn’t slow.  His tongue and fingers work your cunt until you’re a fumbling, mumbling mess.  You push him away from your cunt, making him chuckle as he kisses your cheek.
“Was that as good as you remember?”
“Better,” you answer honestly as you go lax in Tae’s arms. He kisses your temple, asking if you’d like to keep going. When you say yes, he gives you a wary look.
“I promise I’ll let you know if I need a break,” Taehyung hesitates, but trusts you to let him know when you need to rest.
Jungkook trails kisses down your jaw to your neck, nipping at it before he’s kissing way back down your body. He’s on his knees between you, his eyes meeting Taehyung’s as he places his palms on your stomach.  
Taehyung grins, his hand stroking Jungkook’s cheek.  
Jungkook melts into his touch for a moment before kissing your belly and slinking down between your parted legs once again. You moan, loudly. 
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Jimin is glad to be home, he never cared too much for meetings but his agent had said this one was of the utmost importance. So ruefully, Jimin has been present.  
Now, he was glad to be kicking his shoes off and loosening his tie as he made his way past the living room. He found it odd you and Jungkook weren’t there. Have you gone out? He wonders as he steps into the hallway.  
He tried to be quiet as he walks past the bedroom, but seeing Jungkook in the room stops him.
Taehyung sees movement out of his peripheral, grinning before waving Jimin in; he gasps.  
Jungkook’s buried between your thighs, your eyes shut and your head resting on Tae’s shoulder. Your fingers laced in Jungkook’s hair, moaning his name as he flicks your clit with his tongue. 
“Why don’t you join us, Minnie?”
“You what?” Taehyung asks as he squeezes your tits, milk slowly dribbling over your belly.
“Fuck,” Jimin rasps, his eyes following the milk. 
“She tastes so sweet, hyung,” Jungkook groans in response.
Jimin climbs onto the bed, minding Jungkook as he ends up on your left side.  His hands are hesitant as he touches you, caressing your face before you beg him to kiss you.  
Taehyung can feel his cock throbbing in his boxers, aching to be released 
You help Jimin out of his clothes, marveling at his body.  Your hands trace every ridge of his abs before you have him kneeling in front of you so you can kiss his abs, your tongue tracing them before you cum on Jungkook’s tongue.
You push Jimin onto his back, kissing his lips down to his neck to his chest where you trace his ‘nevermind’ tattoo
You run your hands over his cock, confined in his jeans before you undo them.  You suck marks on his pelvis, feeling Jungkook’s hands on your back before he pushes two fingers into your soaking wet cunt. You gasp, taking Jimin’s dick in your mouth. Spitting and slurping on his length.
Taehyung releases his cock, spitting in his hand before stroking it. His eyes on his two best friends fooling around with his pregnant girlfriend 
Jungkook rubs her arousal on his cock, grunting at the feel of it, “can I…? C-Can I fuck you?”
“Please, Kookie,” you plead as you raise your head, your fucked out gaze meeting Jimin’s. 
Jimin strokes your hair, his teeth sunk into his bottom lip before his thumb traces your lower lip. 
You take his thumb into your mouth, suckling it for a moment, your tongue wrapped around it. 
Jimin throws his head back, grunting before you release him.
You kiss the head of his cock, your hand stroking his cock as you spit on it. You watch the saliva run down his cock before your tongue is licking it back up. You take his dick in your mouth, moaning happily when he fists your hair, guiding you as he fucks your throat.  
Jungkook wets his cock with your arousal, the blunt head catching at your entrance, teasing you. Your moans reverberate around Jimin’s cock, his hand on your hair tightening. 
“That’s it, baby, just like that,” Jimin coos, his head falling back as Taehyung leans over to kiss him. 
Jimin kisses him back eagerly, his tongue pushing past the seam of his lips as Jimin’s other hand wraps around Taehyung’s hard cock, dribbling pre-cum.
“So fucking tight,” Jungkook gasps, burying himself to the hilt.
His hands hold your hips before they move down to your belly. His cock throbs, his eyes shutting tight as he groans. He loves the feel of your soft skin beneath his palms, the roundness of your belly, and the intoxicating scent of your body.  
“You feel so good, babe. Fuck!” Jungkook grunts, his hips pounding into you, causing your ass to jiggle. He palms at it, smacking it to make you moan around Jimin’s cock that’s stuffed in your mouth.  
Jimin curses, his fingers laced in your hair as he fucks your throat. Every obscene sound that fills the room has Taehyung stroking his cock as he watches you get pounded into oblivion by his best friends. 
“Fuck, baby!” Jungkook’s head looks back, pleasure coursing through his veins as he continues to thrust in and out of you. “I’ve missed fucking this cunt.  Feels so good wrapped around my cock, love.”
You whimper in return, rocking your hips back into Jungkook while Jimin takes his cock out of your mouth to slap against your cheek. You whine, begging him to put it back down your throat.  
Jimin smirks, licking his lips as he sees the mess he’s made of your face before he shoves his dick back down your throat. You gag, the sound making him groan as you look up at him.  
“Such a good girl for us, huh? You’ve missed this, haven’t you?” Jimin doesn’t expect a reply but you inhale sharply before widening your mouth to take more of him until your nose pressed against his pelvis. 
You clench around Jungkook, his hips stuttering. He curses profusely, slowing as he fucks you with shallow thrusts.  
Jimin takes his cock out of your mouth, ignoring your protests as Jungkook fucks you harder and faster. The room fills with your moans and his, his thrust growing sloppy.  
“Fuck, Jungkook!” 
“Cum all over my cock, love. Fuck…” Jungkook growls, his fingers digging into your hips as you meet each of his thrusts. His fingers move between your legs, rubbing at your clit as he carefully makes you rise into your knees with his hand around your throat but not squeezing it at all. 
Taehyung watches the two of you intently, Jimin kissing his neck as he listens to the sweet symphony of sounds the two of you have created.  
“Love having my cock buried inside you, baby. I’ve missed filling you with my cock and cum. You’re so beautiful like this,” Jungkook murmurs as his hand moves to your round belly. His forehead rests on your shoulder as he curses, nipping at the skin as you grip his forearm. 
You fall into him, your cries of pleasure making all the men pulsate as you come undone at Jungkook’s hand. 
“That’s it, baby. Cum for me. Cum all over my fucking cock,” Jungkook hisses, fucking your warm, wet cunt as you moan his name. Your thighs tremble, your head turning to kiss him messily as he squeezes your tits. Milk dribbles down your stomach and Jimin is eager to lick you clean.  
Taehyung stops stroking his cock, almost cumming at the sight. He notices Jungkook is right at the edge of his own orgasm, a smirk on his lips. 
“That’s it, Jungkookie. Cum in her, fill her with your seed. I’ve already gotten her pregnant, it won’t matter.”
Jungkook whimpers, his thrusts growing sloppy as his hand roams over your belly. His head lolls back, deep, guttural groans escaping his kiss-swollen lips as his thrusts grow sloppy. He shuts his eyes tight, his fingers strumming at your clit. He imagines what it’d be like to see you round with his seed instead. Your milk just for him instead of Taehyung. The thought is enough to have him groaning your name, abs tightening as he cums inside you.  
His hair falls over his eyes, his thrusts slowing until he’s fully spent. Every drop of his seed left deep in your pussy.
Jungkook pulls out, his breathing ragged as he drops onto the bed. Jimin moves over, his hands on your tits as he licks up a drop of milk.
“Why don’t you have a go, Jiminie?” Taehyung’s hooded gaze meets his elders.  Jimin gulps, nodding as he asks you if it’s okay.  
You eagerly consent, your pussy not feeling satiated just yet.
“Lay down, Jimin. Let her ride you,” Taehyung says as he helps you climb over Jimin.  
“Reverse,” Taehyung tuts as you turn and give your back to Jimin. Jimin pouts, but when you sink onto his cock, all complaints fizzle out on his tongue. The warmth of your cunt is enough to have him seeing stars as his eyes flutter shut. His lips part in a silent cry, mouthing your name.  
Jungkook is already at half-mast again, watching with a heated gaze as you slowly rise on Jimin.  
Taehyung kisses your neck, his hands on your breasts, moaning in delight when milk dribbles from your sensitive nipples.
Pleasure radiates throughout your body, sensitivity driving you wild as your boyfriend sucks his mark onto your neck, his finger rubbing at your clit.
“Look at you, love. Getting fucked like the whore you are. So precious, so beautiful stuffed with my friends' cocks.”
“Ugh, Tae!”
“You like it, don’t you? Like how his fat cock stretches your walls to prepare you for me? You can’t get enough, can you?”
Jimin grunts, his hands on your hips as he helps you ride him. He’s careful with you, not wanting to hurt you, but you want more, you need more. Jimin stops, turning you to face him, his hand cupping your face as he kisses you passionately before you fuck yourself on his cock, using him for your pleasure.
Loud, obscene moans escape your lips, your lovers’ names rolling off your tongue sinfully.
“She looks so hot taking Jimin’s cock,” Jungkook groans, his hand wrapped around his cock as he watches Jimin anchor his feet on the mattress.
“Hold on,” Jimin warns as he fucks into you, you cry out in surprise. Taehyung holds you as Jimin fucks your soaking wet cunt. A smirk tugging at his lips.
“You feel so wet. Are you that horny or is it Jungkook’s cum?” Jimin grunts, fucking you harder as you try to meet his thrusts. 
“That’s it, baby. Take his cock. Make me proud,” Taehyung growls in your ear, his lips kissing your earlobe before his teeth give it a gentle tug. 
“Tae,” you moan, eyes rolling to the back of your head. The sweet symphony of your moans has all the men melting into puddles around you; eager to hear more. 
Your hands lay flat on Jimin’s chest, cries of his name escaping your lips as he fucks you harder, hypnotized by the way your tits bounce up and down.  
The three men are drooling as they watch your full tits leak down your body, milk coating your skin.  
Taehyung has to hold back, releasing his cock as his hips thrust upward, a few guttural groans escaping his lips as Jungkook curses and Jimin’s eyes roll to the back of his head. 
“Fuck, I’ve missed this,” Jimin moans your name, his hands gripping your hips as he sits up to kiss you. You kiss him eagerly, passionately as his hands cup your breasts, his thumbs rubbing your nipples, stimulating them. Your soft coos are driving him wild, his lips pressing kisses on your neck down to your tits. His lust-filled gaze meets yours, licking his lips before he wraps them around your nipple, suckling it.
Jimin grunts in response, suckling your milk, loving the warmth of it as it goes down his throat while his hand massages your other breast. You’re a leaking, moaning mess as you continue to bounce on his cock as best as you can.
Jimin is losing his mind as he fucks you, drinking from you until you’re tightening around his cock. Tears well up in your eyes, your nails digging into Jimin’s shoulders as you bury your face in his neck, crying out in pleasure as you orgasm once again.  
“Ah,” you gasp at the oversensitivity. Jimin rubs your back as you continue to ride him slowly, allowing you to use his dick to get yourself off.
“Jimin,” you kiss him, moaning when his tongue pushes past the seam of your lips. Taehyung watches on, his hand stroking his cock before he looks over at Jungkook, who is doing the same.
Jimin allows you to fuck him slowly, your hips rolling as his fingertips brush your clit, rubbing it in rigid circles as you whimper and writhe. Jimin curses, his hand on the nape of your neck to pull you into a messy kiss as he fills you with cum. He grunts, his sweaty forehead pressed against yours as he tried to catch his breath.
Your gaze is as intense as his, as your chest rises and falls. His hands lay flat on your stomach, not saying a word as he kisses you once again, leaving his mark on your neck before he helps you off his cock. He kisses your cheek before he moves aside to sit next to Jungkook.
Taehyung spreads your legs wide as you lay on your side, your pregnancy pillow beneath your belly.
“Jimin and Kook did such a good job filling you with cum, princess.”
“Yes,” you hum in response as Taehyung throws your left leg over his, spreading you apart like the Red Sea. Taehyung pushes two of his fingers inside your creamy cunt, withdrawing them when he deems them sufficiently coated.
Tae spreads his fingers, cum threaded between them. Jimin and Jungkook blush.
“Such a good girl, taking their thick loads of cum. It’s a good thing you’re carrying my child, or I’d be worried,” Taehyung laughs before he kisses you. You kiss him back eagerly, your hands in his hair to hold him close. Taehyung settles behind you. His fat cock nudging at your entrance before he pushes into you. 
“Oh, fuck. You feel so wet and creamy. So fucking tight around my cock. Looks like I need to stretch you out some more, huh?”
“Taehyungie,” you cry out, feeling the heaviness of his balls rest against your ass after every delicious inch of his big cock fills you. You can feel it kiss your cervix and you reach out for Jimin and Jungkook.
Both men murmur sweet words to you. Jimin pressing kisses to your cheeks while Jungkook laps up the sweet milk that escapes your tits. His hot tongue sends tingles down your back.
You moan, begging the three men for more. You’re spoiled with pleasure. The men wanting nothing more but to make you cum again and again and again.  
Jungkook rubs your clit in tight circles as Taehyung kisses your neck, his large palm splayed on your tummy.
“I filled you so good, didn’t I? Fucked my cum into you and got you nice and round with my seed. I bet Jungkook and Jimin wish they were me. I bet they wish you were knocked up with their seed instead,” he growls, making you shudder as you moan in response.
“You’re mine, love. You and this baby. I can’t wait to fill you up again and again. Wanna have your tits filled with milk over and over again.” Taehyung licks his lips, his head moving closer to your breast. His tongue flicks your nipple, his eyes fluttering shut when the dulcet taste of milk hits his taste buds. His hold on your hip tightens, his face nuzzled into your neck as he thrusts into you deeper, grinding his hips into your ass.
Jungkook can’t take it anymore. He flips onto his front to rut against the mattress while his tongue laps at your cunt, Tae groaning when he feels the heat of the youngest’s mouth. Jungkook makes sure to lave at your clit, your thighs trembling as Jimin suckles on your tits. He moans as a steady stream of milk flows down his throat, his hand milking the other breast before he alternates.
“I’m gonna cum,” Taehyung gasps, feeling his stomach clench as you cry out for all the men. You’re so sensitive, growing exhausted as a final wave of pleasure washes over you. A broken cry of Jungkook’s name escapes you, your cunt clenching around your boyfriend’s cock as you grip Jimin’s hair impeccably tight and hold him to your milk filled tits.
“Fuck! Fuck!” You curse as your body shudders with each wave of your orgasm.  
Taehyung waits until your cunt is done pulsating around him to pull out of you.  Jungkook releases your clit, licking his lips as he sits up, a sheepish grin on his face as you see his cock covered in cum from his second orgasm.
“Fuck yes,” Taehyung groans as Jimin pulls away from your tits, swallowing the mouthful of milk in his mouth. Some dribbles from the corner of his mouth, down his plump lips to his chin.
The sight is enough to have Taehyung cumming all over your round belly.
“Yeah, that’s it. Holy fuck,” he curses as several thick ropes of cum coat your abdomen. Jungkook looks at Jimin, crawling over to him, his pretty pink tongue licking up the droplet of milk before he kisses Jimin.
Taehyung looks at the mess he’s made of you, a smug grin on his face, “Jimin and Jungkook may have filled your cunt with cum but my seed is growing inside you. My cum is on you.” Taehyung licks his lips, pushing his dark hair back and out of his eyes.
He suddenly feels exhausted, curling up behind you with his arm draped over your abdomen, his pretty fingers rubbing his cum into your skin. Taehyung kisses your cheek, nuzzling into you as he whispers sweet nothings into your skin. You smile sheepishly, looking up to see Jimin staring at you. His cheeks are pink.
Jimin blushes as he leans over to kiss your lips, caressing your cheek, before turning to Taehyung.
“Thank you,” he murmurs, his eyes displaying his sincerity. Taehyung nods, his hand cupping Jimin’s cheek to kiss him on the lips. Jimin smiles warmly after that, getting off the bed and gathering his clothes as he makes his exit.
Jungkook follows suit, kissing your lips and Taehyung’s before he’s thanking you, his face as red as a tomato as he runs out of your bedroom without his clothes
“Let’s get you into the shower,” Taehyung states as he gets out of bed to get the shower started. 
 You sit up in bed, your hand on your stomach as you get up carefully.  You waddle your way to the bathroom, getting there before you feel sudden wetness between your legs.
You look down, then up at Taehyung, whose eyes are wide.
“Your water broke!” He exclaimed with fear and excitement.
You nod as you get into the shower. No way were you going to the hospital with three men’s cum in and on your body.
Taehyung gets in after you, washing your hair and body. You turn to face him, smiling at him as you rub your belly. Taehyung places a hand on your stomach, his other cupping your face. His thumb strokes your cheek softly, his eyes display the live and adoration he holds for you. You look up at him, displaying the same sentiments with your eyes.
“I love you, baby.”
“I love you too.”
“We’re gonna have our baby,” he whispers in affirmation, leaning in to close the gap between you, ignoring the pelting of the shower as his lips meet yours. 
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© jjungkookislife - I do not allow reposts or translations of my work on any platforms, this includes Youtube. 
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stutterfly · 4 months ago
Swipe Right 04 | Patch Notes | JJK (M)
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Rating: M (Explicit 18+)
Pairings: Jungkook x Reader, brot7 x friendship
Genre: E2L, fluff, angst, humor, [eventual] smut, PersonalTrainer!Jungkook, fuckboy!Jungkook, Nerd!Jungkook, Nerd/IT!Reader
Word Count: 15.1K
Last time on SR03: You joined a gym to increase your confidence and things progressed the way you want with your tinder match. You ended up in an unlikely competition with your friends when you went new bar together, leading to some unexpected conversations and shenanigans.
CW & Other Tags: Drinking, anxiety/panic attack mentions, muscle tearing injury mention, fuckboy Jungkook, pining, flirting, pick-up lines, sexual tension, Joonie is still Y/N’s best boi, soft Jungkook
Series: Activate your SIMCard
Fic: Swipe Right (4/?- Ongoing)
Do not repost.
⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰
When’s the last time you felt as good as you do right now? Jungkook has pretty much stopped bothering you since that night at Seesaw, your date with Jason went well, and you’ve been sticking to your early morning workouts. You definitely don’t push yourself as much as trainer Hwasa, and you know you should really take advantage of the free trial, but it was overwhelming to take in so much at once and the session made you sore all over for days.
At least your stamina seems to be improving and you’ve discovered post-workout endorphins are real. Tonight is your second date with Jason, a date you’ve uncharacteristically elected to host at your apartment. You can place some blame on those endorphins for your boldness, with pining and disappointment composing the rest of it.
While your first date ended without a kiss, there was enough flirting to keep you hopeful. Neither of you were brave enough to do anything about it then, but you’ve mentally coached yourself into pretending like you have an unbreakable spine with nerves of steel. Meeting him only solidified your attraction, and you’ve resolved to take the lead, even though you feel like you have no idea what you’re doing.
It’s not like you often make the first move, but your confidence in him to do so has waned. You’ve been talking and playing games together online for months without any physical touch. Despite how he’s said he likes you and wants to see you again, you’d still be waiting if you didn’t suggest today.
You’re determined to show him what he’s missing by being a recluse. That’s why you’ve picked out the sluttiest clothes and the strappiest heels you own, decorated your face with expensive makeup, and even styled your hair instead of just letting it do whatever it wants for the day. You check yourself out in the full-length mirror on your bedroom door for the millionth time and pull down on the hem of your dress like it will somehow magically grow longer.
You don’t need the heels; no part of the night calls for them. You’re going to be sitting on the couch with him. If you’re lucky you’ll even move it to the bedroom you spent so much time cleaning. But they’re cute and they make you feel sexy, so you’re going to keep them on until he’s peeling you out of your dress.
Nerves bubble in your stomach, but you have to pretend like they’re not there or you’ll fixate on how hard you’re trying to be confident and cool. You’ll fall apart when it’s obvious to Jason how hard you’re pretending to be everything you aren’t. Checking your phone doesn’t help; it’s almost time.
Taking a deep breath, you pace through the confines of your apartment as you wait, and answer group texts from Jennie and Namjoon. You offer up a selfie, hoping any compliments will build your confidence enough to stave off the anxiety in your gut. A few devil emojis later, some keysmashing, and more than a couple hamfisted compliments from Namjoon, your ego is adequately inflated but you can always use more hyping. Maybe you should send it to Jimin to fish for more compliments? He’d indulge you for sure.
Instead you flop on the couch and open Tinder. According to Jennie, Jason is stringing you along; it’s been months, but you hate to admit that she has a point. So you don’t. She’s been telling you for a while now that she thinks you should pursue other suitors. While you object to her assumptions, she has more experience with this kind of stuff. It’s not exactly something you want to believe, not when you’ve put in so much effort for literal months.
You want to believe in Jason being awkward and dorky and that’s why it’s taken so long for the two of you to hook up. He’s shy and super introverted, but so are you. So why are you the only one trying to make things happen? You want to believe, but at this point you’re uncertain enough to heed Jennie’s advice and keep swiping any time you find yourself in a situation where you’re waiting on him. Like now.
You have your reservations about swiping while you wait for your date to begin, but you can practically hear Jennie cheering you on. He’s late anyway, and it will keep you busy until he arrives. You open the discovery tab and swipe left on a couple incomplete profiles. Most of the guys on here don’t put in any effort. How are you supposed to want to give any of them a chance when you don’t even get a tiny snapshot of who they are?
When you pass on yet another fish pic profile, a blue frame appears around the next guy in line. It takes a moment for your brain to register the name along with the duck-faced photo as someone familiar.
[Jungkook said: Your legs remind me of oreos 🥴 wanna know why?]
How fucking dare he? You match with the intent to ream him out and leave.
You: I told you not to fucking find me on here
It takes only a few seconds before you see the dots move on his end, like he was waiting for the moment you would answer, and it keeps you tethered to the conversation.
Jungkook: Princess!! I couldn’t help myself how are you
Jungkook: Surprised you didn’t block me
You: Don’t worry I’m gonna
Jungkook: it’s bc you wanna know huh
You: ???
Jungkook: Your legs
Jungkook: Like oreos
Jungkook: I wanna split them n lick the cream from the center 😜
Electricity rumbles in your gut, carrying heat and a surge of excitement to your cunt that threatens to flood your panties. You swallow hard and squeeze your thighs together as you stare at the screen. Embarrassed by the response his antics elicit, you scramble to formulate a coherent thought.
You: I wish I could unread 🤢
Jungkook: Aw but that’s one of my favorites
Jungkook: Just like you 😘
You: 🙄
You: I hate you so much
Jungkook: So much that you matched with me?
You stare at the message like a clever response will come to you and when it doesn’t you bite your lip. He’s got a point. Haven’t you learned your lesson not to encourage him? Your eyes scan the top of your phone for any notifications from Jason. Nothing. At least this is keeping you distracted. That’s what you tell yourself.
Jungkook: You’re still here which means 👀
You: It means I’m tired
Jungkook: Of?
You pause for a moment. Namjoon and Jennie can’t know how anxious you are about Jason. It’s the guy’s last strike with them and he hasn’t even met them yet. Jungkook, an impartial third party, might be able to lend an ear. As much as you don’t care what he thinks, you need an outlet for the anxiety in your chest. You start to draft a word-vomit. Jason has been so hesitant to see you in person again and now he’s late. Maybe if you just put it out there to someone you’ll feel better.
Jungkook: If you need to sleep how about a massage?
Jungkook: I’m good with my fingers 🥴
Stupid. In what universe could you confide in Jungkook? Deleting your word-vomit before you can send it, you start to type something else, but your thumb accidentally taps enter at the exact wrong moment.
You: You know what? I want you
FUCK. Goddamn you, sausage fingers.
You scramble to rewrite the sentence but Jungkook is quicker. He has to know it was an accident, but you’re still fucking mortified.
Jungkook: 😈
Jungkook: My place
Jungkook: Ten minutes
You: *to stay off my profile
Jungkook: 👉👌?
You: 🤢🤢🤢
Jungkook: 😩
Jungkook: Now you’re just playing games with me princess
Jungkook: Can’t say I mind just fuck me up 🥴
You: Don’t you have a princess to fuck in another castle? Maybe she can stroke your tiny ego
Jungkook: Ouch felt that from here
He goes quiet and you close the conversation out. Setting the phone down on the cushion beside you lasts all of two seconds. When your phone buzzes twice, you know better than to answer, yet you feel compelled to look.
Jungkook: Hey quick question
Jungkook: Is this the most you’ve used the app to talk with someone you like? 👻
Just like that you unmatch with him and take a moment to seethe. Distraction or no, he’s not worth the mental energy. He always seems to draw you in like a pretty little thirst trap and drain you of your sanity. Not engaging is the safest option so why do you always end up doing so? Maybe it’s that shitty little part of you that gets excited any time he shows you attention.
There’s a gullible girl within you; she sets your pulse on fire when he feigns even the slightest interest, fills your head with wind when he brushes against you, and floods your eyes with tears when he walks away. Still, she wants him to look at you, even if it means he’s really looking through you. You hate her. Why can’t she learn that you deserve better?
You check the time again and wince. Jason is really late now. Not even a text. Or a phone call. Maybe it’s traffic?
Try to relax. Nothing bad is going to happen. You’re going to have fun tonight.
You start up a game to take your mind off the options available to explain his absence. When you’re invested in a game you often lose track of time, but tonight you’re hyper-aware of every minute that passes. You bite at your freshly painted nails during loading screens, chipping the red from their edges. Sounding casual is difficult when you’re worried, but you attempt it anyway via text. It’s ten more agonizing minutes of waiting before your phone buzzes with an answer.
The controller drops to your lap and immediately tears begin to sprinkle your thighs with the manifestation of your heartache.
He forgot.
⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰
An earthy scent fills Namjoon’s apartment as he carefully transfers the last of his plants to a bigger pot, filling in the edges of its roots with fresh soil and patting the edges down with care. His plants have needed this, maybe even more than he needs the mini hangout that will soon follow. The kitchen table is covered in dirt, but at least he’s almost done.
It’s not his fault Jungkook showed up earlier than expected. At least he’s quiet now. It’s been a while, but he’s finally stopped asking about how much longer it will take, so he must either be invested in the show he put on or asleep on the couch.
“Almost done,” Namjoon loudly announces. “Can you text Tae?”
“Kay.” Jungkook yawns as he stands and heads towards the bathroom. “Jin was already cooking when I left so it should be ready soon.”
“Good. I’m hungry,” Namjoon says, carefully transporting the plant to the desk in his bedroom.
As he’s on his way to clean up the mess on the table there’s a soft rapid knock at the front door. The moment he opens it and finds you standing before him, he knows something is wrong. Even the ratty hoodie covering your shoulders can’t hide the effort you’ve obviously put into your appearance tonight. While your makeup seems to have fared rather well, your eyes are red and your cheeks are puffy. His mind automatically assumes the worst about your second date and his jaw tightens.
“What happened? Did he hurt you?”
“He never showed.” You throw your arms around him and openly sob.
“Oh, Y/N…” His arms are around you in an instant, hugging you close while keeping his dirty fingers at bay.
You press your cheek against his chest, letting the tears fall freely. “I’m sorry. I know you probably have plans tonight, but I wanted to stop here—” You choke out a loud sob and wipe your nose with your sleeve as you look down at the floor. “I didn’t want to drive upset but you weren’t answering and I just—”
“Shit. Exam today. I left it on silent.” He pats his pocket to make sure it’s still there, wiping as much dirt as he can on his jeans before placing his hands on your shoulders. “Hey, it’s okay. Deep breaths.”
Jungkook emerges from the bathroom quietly with a furrowed brow and pursed lips. Did he hear your voice or is it his imagination? Unsure if you’re some wishful remnant of earlier texts, he peeks around the corner.
Heels: black, strappy heels with a velvety smooth red undersole. Has he ever seen you in heels? If he has, it’s never been something as flashy as these. His gaze travels up the smooth, exposed skin of your legs until it hits the hem of a skirt. The dark fabric seems a little short; it clings to your thighs, riding up as you embrace his friend. It’s hard not to notice how well it accents the curve of your hips and more importantly: your ass. He’s definitely never seen you in something so revealing, not even on nights where you’ve joined them for dancing.
He pauses for a fraction of a second, eyes trained on the swell of your ass before moving up to find the disappointing sight of your favorite hoodie barring much else from view. Namjoon’s arms outline your shape, but the places his hands rest are far too respectable to glean much else other than simple blueprints.
With his dick leading his steps, Jungkook opens his mouth to announce his presence with a joke. He means to selfishly steal a glimpse of your entire ensemble with some snarky comment but you choke out a sob and his stomach lurches to form a whirlpool of apprehension. His mouth remains open, but his words are swallowed back into the dark swirling pit that now wrenches his gut in circles.
Namjoon looks up just in time to read the confusion and shock on his features. He shakes his head and cups yours against his chest, wordlessly signaling Jungkook to keep quiet.
“Is there anything I can do? Do you wanna talk about it?” Namjoon asks, hoping you don’t see the man behind you slowly backing away like he’s just approached a rabid animal.
You’re sobbing. Why are you sobbing? What happened? Was it what he said before you unmatched? Jungkook tiptoes back into the kitchen without a word. He leans against the counter and shoves his hands in his coat pockets, trying to piece everything together. Did he cause this?
You screw your eyes shut to try to keep the tears inside. It’s no use. They always seem to find a way out. “He didn’t show up and when I texted him, he… he said he forgot."
“I thought it would be good after the arcade date, you know? Like, good chemistry. He’s weird. I like him! He seemed interested and we made these plans and he just—” you choke out another loud sob. “God. Am I really so fucking forgettable?”
You wanted your friends to be wrong so badly that you ignored the fact that it’s been like pulling teeth trying to get Jason to meet up again. For him to forget completely is like a kick to the face that leaves all the teeth intact, maybe a little bloody, but stubbornly intact.
“Y/N, no. It’s not your fault. You deserve better than this fucking guy.”
Jungkook swallows hard. This definitely doesn’t feel like a conversation he should be hearing, but it’s loud enough to carry through the entire apartment. Kitchen, bedroom, or bathroom: his options are limited, but he knows there’s nowhere to go to pretend like he can’t hear it. It’s not like he can just walk out the front door now.
“Do I? It’s seems like a fucking pattern, Joon. I fall for people so easily and they always make me feel like an idiot for trying. Donghyun. Seojun. Jason. Jungkook… It doesn’t matter. No one fucking wants me.”
Jungkook tenses. He may not know all the names on your list, but his is among them all the same. Has he really hurt you so much?
“Hey… Don’t think like that,” Namjoon says, his voice soft as he rubs your back. “You know your worth, and it’s not measured by how well someone else can see it.”
Every time you think you’re done crying, fresh tears begin to roll down your cheeks. “I’m tired, Joonie.”
“I know. I’m sorry. We'll get you home."
As you step back to look at him your ankle rolls, and you begin to fall. Hearing the scuffle, Jungkook winces and peeks around the corner. Namjoon has a good enough grip to stop you from fully tumbling to the floor, but you’re definitely not stable by any means.
Although you now face Jungkook, you’re too distracted by your ankle to notice the extra pair of eyes on you. He allows himself to stupidly linger within your line of sight, raking his gaze across your form to take in the details of your attire, right down to your choice of earrings. Even with a red nose and puffy, smudged eyes, the time you’ve spent on your appearance remains evident.
You did all that for some guy who didn’t even show? If that’s how you dress for your dates then his innocent perception of you is completely wrong. What kind of moron would pass up the opportunity to peel you out of that dress and dive into your cunt? You look incredible. What the fuck.
"God. Shit. Fuck! Fucking stupid heels!” You huff out your exasperation and let a small pitiful laugh pass your lips as you right your stance with Namjoon’s help. “You know, I spent hours getting ready and now I just look stupid. I feel stupid.”
“You don’t. You’re not,” Namjoon insists, his palm squeezing your shoulder.
“Namjoon, I shaved my entire body. Do you know how long that took?”
Jungkook forces himself to withdraw into the kitchen. If you see him now you might murder him. He purses his lips into a thin line and tightens his grip around his arms. In an instant he imagines hiking your dress above your hips and parting your legs so he might brush his cheek against the smooth expanse of your thigh all the way to your core. Are your panties as slutty as your dress? Are they cute? Lacy? Plain?
“Geeksquad…” Namjoon sighs loudly. “I really don’t need to know— Hold up. Wasn’t this the second date?”
“Are you slutshaming me?” The tired laugh that follows sounds more like you, but it still hurts his heart. “I’m stepping up my game.”
“Nah. You do you,” he says, a soft smile on his lips that’s obviously full of pity. “You want to stay and get some food? I think I have some sweats you can change into.”
Tires screech in Jungkook’s mind. Is he going to be trapped here for the night? Without dinner? What kind of karmic torture is the universe putting him through?
“No, I’m sorry,” you sniffle, wiping your face with the sleeves of your sweater. “Jennie wants me to come over but I—I didn’t think I could make it with having a full meltdown. You were on the way.”
“No need to apologize.” He pulls you into another tight hug. “Do you want me to walk you back to your car?”
“No, no it’s fine. I’m right in front. Thanks, Joonie.” Your phone begins to buzz in your hoodie pocket. You pull back and wave it at him, already on your way to the door. “It’s like she knew. I’ll talk to her on the way. Thank you for listening to me cry for the millionth time.”
“Always. Text me when you get there, okay?”
“Will do, mom,” you tease with a soft laugh.
“Zip up your hoodie.”
You grimace at him with narrowed eyes but heed his advice on your way out. You also pull your skirt down as far down your thighs as it will reach. Men are gross and you trust virtually none of them.
Jungkook waits until he hears the click of the lock on the door to breathe a loud sigh of relief. Namjoon rubs the back of his neck and stares at the door. He worries about you.
“Yikes. That Jason guy is a dick huh?”
Namjoon swivels on his heels and rounds on his friend. “Like you were so much better to her?”
Jungkook casts his gaze to the floor. “I didn’t stand her up.”
Even he knows that argument is flimsy.
“It was always just a joke.”
“It’s not though. She really liked you, man. I asked you not to mess with her.”
Memories have warped Jungkook into a jaded man: untrusting although not uncaring. Guilt is the only thing churning in his stomach as he thinks of you. He never expected to genuinely hurt you. Somehow things twisted into a gnarled mess that never really felt like more than a playful game of tug-of-war. But these kinds of games only work when the people involved know that they’re playing. It’s shitty when one pulls another into the mud when they’ve never agreed to participate.
Faced with the reality of how you consider him now, it dawns on him that he’s dragged you into the mud face-first without even the slightest resistance. You’ve stood up and you’ve even yanked the rope in retaliation, but you never should’ve been in the mud in the first place. Regardless of his own emotional ineptitude, he knows you never deserved that humiliation. No one does. The weight of his actions sits heavy in his gut.
Still he tries to justify himself. “All I do now is make pass after pass and she’s the one who turns me down.”
“You said it earlier yourself,” Namjoon sneers, irritated by his friend’s immaturity. “It’s always a joke. You’re never serious and she knows it. Look, you don’t have to like her back. She’s my friend and so are you. Just don’t lead her on and stop with the mind games. Be honest with her. The least you can do is apologize for being a dick.”
“That’s— I feel like… I don’t know how.”
Jungkook can’t bring himself to tell him of your conversation earlier tonight. It just adds to the guilt piling on his conscience. Namjoon used his own words against him and the worst part is it makes sense. It’s so much easier when it’s a stranger at a bar or a random encounter at a club, but you’re neither of those things. He lumped you into that category all the same.
Namjoon clicks his tongue and puts an arm around Jungkook’s back. “Starting with ‘I’m sorry’ can go a long way. She’s a good person and I know you guys can get along. Things were going well until you made that bet, right?”
Jungkook opens his mouth to speak and then closes it. “Mmm.”
“Not every girl is a Jiseo, Jungkook.”
“I think…” Namjoon sighs and shakes his head. “I don’t know. Can you try to just... tone it down? Maybe try to patch things up?”
“Okay.” Jungkook’s brow furrows and he chews his lip as he mulls over Namjoon’s words. He reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out his keys. “You ready?”
⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰
Your head dips forward as your fingers glide across the keys. It's hard to concentrate on your task when you're this distracted by your own thoughts. You stare at the monitor with furrowed brows. Namjoon grabs the back of your chair and leans forward to tower over you.
"Went that well, huh? Did he blow the second chance he didn’t deserve?"
The motion jerks you backwards and you grip the armrests of the chair to steady yourself. Despite your best attempt to curb the irritation in your expression, your frustration remains apparent. You sit back and tilt your head up to look at him, trying to think of something to say, some excuse to not reinforce the "told you so" waiting in your future, not after you showed up at his apartment sounding like a dying whale a few days before. When no ideas come to your immediate aid, you click your tongue and let out a heavy sigh as you turn your attention back to the screen.
"Geeksquad," he presses. "Talk to me."
You exhale through your nose and briefly purse your lips before obliging his plea. The words are quick and quiet so you don't run the risk of bawling your eyes out again. "He canceled.”
Namjoon steps back and the pressure on your seat is gone. He places a large palm on your shoulder. "I'm sorry. Do you want to talk about it?"
Despite wanting to give the opposite answer, you shake your head. You don't trust yourself to speak, but you'd like to tell him. He's clever and you know he'll likely find a way to get it out of you with minimal effort anyway. Still, you don’t think you can manage the words without crying like a baby and you don’t want to do that when the morning has only just begun. Silence falls between the two of you as he gives you time to decide if you want to open up.
After a moment of tapping away you finally give in. You know you’ll feel better after you cry.
"He said he had to stay behind and help do clean-up for the party he was at. And that’s nice and all, but we had plans. I feel crazy. I should be glad that he’s so kind, right? Like that shows he’s a good person, right?” Your voice has cracked but it hasn’t quite broken.
He sighs and flops in the chair on the other side of his desk. “Y/N… I think you’re asking me for answers you already know.”
“But tell me anyway,” you press, tears welling in your eyes. “Our first date went so well. So why-y-” Your voice breaks.
“Hey.” He reaches across the desk and brushes his fingers against your arm. “I know you want me to help you make excuses for him... But you deserve someone who values your time. Clearly he’s just looking to waste it.”
“Y/N, you don’t need someone like that. If this is what he’s like before you’re even together, then what kind of effort is he really going to put into a potential relationship? Not enough. There are so many people out there, people that would trip over themselves just to have the chance to be with you. I know you don’t want to hear it, but I think it’s a mistake that you even gave him another shot. He blew it. Twice. Delete his number. Forget him.”
“I know,” you croak. Tears fall from your eyes and you quickly swipe them away, focusing on the task at hand.
Namjoon is right and you know it, but you’re kind of irritated about it. You know it’s not really him you’re mad at, but Namjoon is a good enough placeholder while you try to sort through your hurt feelings.
You muster your most monotone voice as you stand. “I updated your drivers and deleted any cached files that might have been causing issues. Is that all?”
“Don’t be mad at me,” he pleads, rising to block your path as you step towards the door. “You have a big heart and I hate seeing it stepped on.”
In a matter of seconds you melt into his embrace and bury your face into his shirt. “I hate how fast I like people.”
“I know.” He pets the back of your head softly and squishes you against his chest. “It’s gonna be okay. How about udon later? My treat?”
“With beef?” you ask with a sniffle.
“With beef,” he agrees.
“And takoyaki?”
“...You’re pushing it.”
⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰
You slide the appetizer tray across the table towards Namjoon. “Here.”
He shovels a dumping into his mouth right before he speaks. “I could eat this every day for the rest of my life.”
“Could you afford it though?” you tease, taking a sip from the bottle of saké and crinkling your nose at it before passing it to him.
“Not if you’re joining me,” he snorts. “You’re supposed to pour it.”
“No, thanks.” You push the tiny glass full of liquid back towards him.
"Wow. Are you guys on a date?"
You know the source of the voice before you even crane your neck to see Jungkook.
"Pfft." Namjoon waves the question off with a deep laugh.
Despite finding the scenario of ever dating Namjoon absolutely absurd, you can’t help but feel a little insulted by the volume of his laughter. Namjoon’s hangout night was supposed to take your mind off of how unwanted Jason made you feel. Instead, the pit of insecurity within your stomach grows into a thick, tangled brush of hostility. Is being seen with you really so laughable?
“Why would we be?” you snap, turning your attention back to your bowl.
Heat settles in your face and you purse your lips, not daring to look at either of them. You try to wrangle some noodles to shovel in your mouth before you can say something stupid. Their eyes are on you. Jungkook is definitely confused but not alarmed by your hostility. It’s something he’s grown accustomed to. But Namjoon knows when he hurts your feelings, every time, and it’s easy enough to disarm your irritability.
“She’s way too good for a mess like me,” Namjoon says with a light laugh.
“Why are you here?” you ask, tone already softer than before.
"Post-work snackie," he answers, all too cheery for your sour mood. “Came for the noods. Mind if I join?”
He looks to the rosy-cheeked Namjoon for his answer, as you set your hoodie and purse down in the space beside you to give him yours. Namjoon betrays you by scooting over to make room on his side of the booth. You’d mentioned to him before that you’d eventually like to fix things with Jungkook, to somehow make steps for peace. But you only have so much mental energy left to give today.
“Not tonight, Jungkook,” you plead with a sigh.
The frustration in that puff of breath is enough to make Jungkook hesitate. He blinks a few times, wide-eyed. “What?”
“I just… can’t handle your bullshit tonight.”
Jungkook tries to break the uncomfortable tension with a grin. “No bullshit tonight. Promise.”
“No.” Your answer is firm and somehow so fragile that it makes both men worry their brows in the same fashion. “Please, just go away.”
He shoves his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket and takes a few steps back. He doesn’t know what to make of your demeanor, but he can put enough together to know the basics. You’re upset, maybe not at him for once. However unlikely, that’d be a blessing. Maybe you’re still upset about that guy that stood you up a few days ago. If that’s the case, he probably shouldn’t stick around and risk letting on how much he knows about that.
He tongues the side of his cheek and nods, forcing a smile to his face. “Alright. I’ll just order it to go. Planned on that anyway. Catch you later.”
Guilt wracks your nerves as he walks away. The moment you look back at Namjoon, you’re faced with a wall of disappointment that threatens to topple the scale of decision-making in Jungkook’s favor.
“You’re judging me for that,” you mumble. The noodles between your chopsticks slip back into the broth.
“Little bit,” Namjoon admits, watching his friend sulk over to the entrance waitstaff. “You know he told me he’s trying to be nicer to you.”
“What? When?”
“The other day. We hung out.”
He keeps his answers short and ambiguous, hoping your curiosity has been piqued. Maybe this is the golden opportunity he’s been hoping for to patch your friendship.
“Was this before or after he harassed me on Tinder?”
Namjoon’s heart sinks into his butt. Of course Jungkook would make reconciliation harder than it needs to be. “When did he do that?”
“That night I showed up at your apartment like a big crybaby.”
“I went over his place for dinner after you left. Jin wanted to try a new recipe out on us.” That seems to at least make you pause.
“You guys talked about me?”
“Yup.” He goes back to chewing his food, knowing he’s got you hooked.
Your incredulous stare does nothing to pull information past his lips. “Joonie. What did you say about me? What did he say?”
“Mmm?” He slurps up a long noodle. “A lot of things. But they’re not really my words to tell.”
“No one likes clickbait, Joon.”
“Look, all I’m saying is that he told me that he wants to fix things. If you want specifics, maybe we can invite him to come eat with us. It might be easier for the both of you to talk about it over good food.”
You sigh, seriously considering his words even as you shake your head. “Joon, I’m already emotionally compromised. I really don’t want to cry in front of Jungkook tonight.”
“Why would you cry? This is a night for good things only. Namjoon-approved and protected. You don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to... I just thought it might be nice to make some good memories with good friends.”
You roll your eyes but hold your pinky out for him. “Fine. But this is Joonie-Y/N time. You’re cutting into that allotted time slot, you know that right?”
Namjoon rests his elbow on the table, preparing to pinky swear to whatever you’re about to suggest. “Conditions?”
“He sits next to you, he doesn’t make fun of me if I cry, and…. he doesn’t get to talk.”
“Fiiiiine. He can talk. But he better be as nice as you say he’s trying to be.”
“We allowed to talk about Jason?”
“If it comes up…” you sigh. “You know, if he’s mean to me and I cry then you have to deal with it.”
He clasps his long pinky around yours. “Deal. But with how all that just went down, you gotta go tell him to come back. He won’t believe me if I do it.”
“Don’t let him be mean to me,” you plead, tightening your grip on his pinky and locking eyes with him. “Good vibes only.”
“He won’t be mean. Good vibes only.” Namjoon nods with a soft smile. “He really is a good person where it counts, Y/N.”
You push your things aside and force yourself to find Jungkook. He’s leaning against a wall near the entrance, scrolling through his phone while he waits for his order. You quietly request to your waitress that you’d like his food brought to your table. She’s nice enough about it, but your stomach churns regardless. It’s the anxiety.
You gingerly poke a finger against his shoulder as you approach. “Um. Hey.”
He seems startled at first, but smiles when he realizes it’s you. “Hmm?”
You take a deep quiet inhale, trying your best not to get lost in the butterflies his charming smile conjures in your gut. You try to tell yourself it’s anxiety and nothing more. Apologies are hard and scary. That’s all.
“I’m… sorry for being rude. I’ve had a rough week but I shouldn’t take it out on you. Come eat with us, please. Namjoon’s buying anyway.”
His eyes seem to light up with surprise and a warm smile deepens the creases around his eyes and mouth. The hope that these feelings of attraction would evaporate with time is a flame swiftly snuffed out and replaced with a burning heartache that deems denial useless. Even now, pangs of infatuation lurk below your feelings of disdain, breaking the tension of its surface with each beat of your heart.
“It’s okay,” he reassures you. “I shouldn’t have invited myself when I saw you guys. I should really get home and shower anyway.”
He looks so clean that you’d assumed he’d already showered. It’s not like you can smell him from where you stand. Maybe he’s lying, but at least you get the sense it’s coming from a place of politeness.
“Jungkook, I want you to come eat with us. Besides Namjoon wants someone to drink saké with him and I cannot keep doing it.”
“I see.” He offers a small laugh and rubs the back of his neck. “Are you sure? You seemed pretty against it before. What changed?”
“Namjoon told me you’re trying to be less of an asshole to me.”
“Did he?” he licks his lips and tries to hide his pleased smile. “I’m surprised you believe him.”
“He also promised me I could punch you in the dick if you make me cry,” you lie, completely stone-faced.
If he knows that’s a falsified statement, he doesn’t say anything. He looks past your shoulder to quirk a brow at Namjoon, who appears to be furiously texting at the table. Jungkook’s phone buzzes a few times against his palm and he’s fairly sure he already knows who it is.
“Come on. I already asked them to bring your food to the table.”
He reads Namjoon’s messages as he trails behind you.
NAMJOON: If you seriously want to apologize stick around, make her laugh, just listen when you need to
JUNGKOOK: Don’t worry
Before Namjoon can send a text saying that Jungkook's response has the opposite effect, you’re peeking across the table, trying to get a glance at the screen.
“Who’s that?” you wonder. Namjoon’s not usually one to be so secretive with his texts.
“Hmm?” he raises his eyebrows at you and pours you a shot. “Stupid. Don’t worry about it.”
“Ha. Haha. Ha.” You gesture at your face. “You say to the girl with anxiety.”
Crinkling your nose at the glass he offers, you slide it across to Jungkook as he settles in next to Namjoon. “Here. I’m done drinking that stuff tonight.”
He regards it with a quirked brow. Something about your demeanor really has changed, but looking between you and Namjoon does nothing to answer the question of what that may be.
“Okay, so on reddit this guy was reaching. He’s going on about the symbolism in the red scarf—”
Your eyes gloss over the moment he mentions reddit. Is there anything you care less about than Joon’s favorite modern literary discussion threads?
“Got it. Not worrying about it,” you interrupt, bringing your bowl to your lips to slurp some of the broth.
Jungkook hides his smirk by throwing his head back to drink his shot. Namjoon is a genius. It might be scary if he ever decided to use his intellect for nefarious purposes. Lucky for the universe he uses it to protect others, like a real superhero would.
As the three of you dine together, you’re surprised to find that Jungkook isn’t being as annoying as he usually is. In fact, it seems the more he drinks outside of any competitive setting, the more affable he becomes. Maybe there’s something to Namjoon’s clickbaity words. He’s almost the person you remember meeting before the Halloween Party, maybe even more pleasant.
You’re grateful when the two of them start telling embarrassing stories so you can listen and laugh at the way they slur their words and interrupt each other. Laughter makes your heart feel light and full, and brave enough to take the last step to prove to yourself you’re done chasing Jason. As the two men fight over the last piece of gyoza and distract themselves over dessert, you quietly decide to clear your text messages from Jason. Your finger hovers over the delete icon for a second before purging his contact information from your device entirely.
It’s freeing to not have to worry about what you should send him. It’s frustrating to have tried so hard for so long and have nothing to show for it, but at least there will be no conversation history to pick apart anymore. It should feel perfect. That will definitely show him, right? You don’t have to reflect for more than a couple seconds to reinforce the memory of how little he actually reached out on his own.
He still has your number. The only time he ever called was on your first date. He never texted you unless you spoke first. He probably won’t even notice you’re gone. He’s probably relieved he won’t have to answer you anymore. He probably thinks you’re desperate for trying for so long. You don’t realize how well you wear your anxiety.
When you look up Jungkook is watching you while he chews with his mouth wide open. “Hey, why do-” He hiccups and swallows. “Why do you look so sad? You should have some ice cream.”
He scans the table for something to offer you, but he can’t seem to find what he’s looking for in his drunken stupor. After a few seconds his eyes finally land on his own plate where the other half of his red-bean cake sits.
“Do you want my taiyaki?” He holds the tail end of the fish-shaped cake out to you. “It’s really good!”
You can’t help but laugh at the unexpected sweet absurdity of the night. “Jungkook, I don’t want your half-eaten cake.”
He frowns and looks at the pastry. “Is it because I bit it? I’ll break off that part for you if you don’t want your mouth to touch that.”
Although Jungkook definitely is more drunk than Namjoon right now, the older man can’t help but be amazed by how well this is going. He loads up on green tea ice cream and digs his spoon in it. He shouldn’t have been so worried. Jungkook can put away the act when he wants to, especially once alcohol is involved and there’s nothing to prove. You guys are actually getting along. What a relief.
“No, really it’s okay.” You laugh.
Jungkook is already breaking the pastry apart in his hand, watching as it crumbles to pieces on his plate. He blinks a couple times and closes his mouth in a frown.
“I thought that would work.” He sounds utterly defeated.
The waitress walks over just in time to watch Namjoon stick a heaping spoonful of wasabi in his mouth. You're too busy laughing at Jungkook's forlorn expression to notice the way Namjoon's eyes water. His eyes drop to the ice cream he thought he shoveled into his mouth. Right next to the pristine, untouched scoop of green tea ice cream, he finds his spoon resting in the hunk of wasabi adjacent to it. He should really pay attention more. He pushes against Jungkook's side and motions that he needs to get up. The younger man spares a glance his way but Namjoon waves him off while mumbling something about the bathroom.
The waitress tries to keep her composure and looks between the pair of you. "How is everything?"
"Great! Could you please bring us some water?" you ask in your sweetest voice, realizing the two men with you should at least try to start sobering up.
You expected to have Namjoon crashing on your couch on a Friday night, or at least be dropping him off down the hall at Hobi’s place. Jungkook was not part of the plan, but you can’t exactly let him drive home inebriated. You know he’s not your responsibility but you’d feel guilty making him call for a ride home when you’re perfectly capable.
Although you hate to admit it, you’ve had fun tonight. If you’re being honest with yourself you’d like to see what he’s like without Namjoon nearby to police his moves. He’s been nice enough, but you want to know for sure this isn’t an act. You want to ask him if he’s made another bet, or playing some game since he hasn’t hit on you all night. Before you can get your line of questions in order, Jungkook turns to the server with large, pleading eyes.
"Oh! Can you bring some more dessert, please?"
He may be a grown ass man capable of charming the pants off of women everywhere, but right now he is little more than a child begging for seconds. Regardless of everything he's done, your heart softens, endeared and embarrassed by his drunken request to your server.
The waitress nods. "Sure, what would you like?"
His eyes fall to you for an answer. "What do you like?"
You blink at him. "Me? I thought this was for you."
He nods. "Mm. We can split it."
"Um, how about... tempura?"
Jungkook’s voice is full of anticipation and his upturned eyebrows seem to bargain for agreement. It’s so hard to believe this is the same man who has been so cold to you for so long when he seems so open and warm now. You remind yourself it’s probably the alcohol. It’s probably some secret promise to Namjoon. Some bet with Hobi. Some game he’s playing. It’s probably anything other than what your dumb crush-stupefied heart wants it to be.
The waitress looks to you for approval and you give a nod. "Sure. Banana tempura."
The waitress awkwardly smiles as she gathers the empty platters and gives you a chance to break away from his endearingly drunken face. He smiles across the table at you and wrings his hands while you pick up your phone to check on those nonexistent messages. Maybe if you distract yourself enough you can ignore the feelings that are catching up to you tonight.
“Thank you for inviting me back over,” he says, reaching to the nearly empty bottle of saké to pour himself another shot. “I’ve... been wanting to talk to you."
"I’m surprised you didn’t blow up my phone.” It’s supposed to be a joke, but there’s a harshness in your tone that exposes a venomous bite beneath it.
He downs the shot and plants his elbows on the table, leaning forward on them. "I wanted to say it to your face."
“Oh, really?”
You don’t allow yourself to entertain the idea that he’s about to say anything groundbreaking, but you look away from your phone to meet those dark, twinkling eyes. Suddenly there’s hope in your gut. You’re desperate to put some distance between the feelings jumping to the surface.
“I’ve been a dick.”
“No shit.”
Though the fog of alcohol consumes his apology, his eyes focus on you with clarity. “I’m sorry.”
How long have you waited to hear those words? You never really thought about what you might say in response. His apology sits in the air between you for a moment before he speaks again.
“I’m really sorry. Namjoon is right. I am trying to be less of an asshole to you. We don’t…” he catches himself, “I don’t have a lot of close friends who are women.”
“You don’t say.”
That seems to cut through the fog. He hangs his head and focuses his gaze on the table.
“I never wanted to hurt your feelings.”
“Well, you did,” you mumble.
“I know... I’m sorry.” It’s like now that he’s said it once, he can’t stop saying it. He’s not sure how to make you understand. Maybe you do understand and you just won’t forgive him. Can he really blame you for that?
“Why?” you question; it’s the last barrier protecting your heart, the only thing keeping you from caving. “Why do you care now?”
Jungkook’s head lolls to one side as he sits back against his seat and stares at the nearly empty bottle of saké. “I don’t know. I guess I was thinking… I wish I had a save to reload. Before I messed up.”
It seems that’s the best you’re going to get out of him right now. The waitress sets down a beautiful platter of banana tempura meticulously arranged around a simple mound of ice cream, topped with a single cherry and drizzled with decorative chocolate. She places three waters on the table and you both take a moment to politely force smiles and pause your conversation.
He licks his lips and stares down at the plate and then back up at you. “Can we start over?”
“Depends. Are you gonna go back to being a dick when you’re not drunk anymore?”
“No, no. I mean it. I wanna try to be friends.”
“For real?” You swipe the cherry, pop it in your mouth and tilt your head to regard him. You can’t let yourself fully believe him. You want to. The earnestness in his drunken features charms you, but you hold onto a shred of disbelief as a crutch. You’ll wait for the moment he reverts. Hopefully this time you’ll be prepared for the whiplash that comes along with it.
“For real.”
You reflect on his apology as the pair of you dig into the dessert. “Maybe. Prove it.”
He perks up. He’ll take a maybe. Maybe means the damage he’s done might not be irreparable. The guilt weighing on his conscience feels lighter. It’s a start.
“I will. I’ll find some way to make it up to you.”
You roll your eyes, unwilling to put stock in his words. “Is this another bet with Hobi? About how quickly you can make me forgive you?”
Jungkook shakes his head furiously, wisps of wild black hair whipping his cheeks. “No, I mean it. I promise.”
You drag your lip through your teeth as you teeter on the line of acceptance. “What is a promise from a liar worth?”
He drops the flat of his palm to the table and he pouts. “Hey. I mean it…. Hm. If I break my promise…” His eyes scan the table for anything he can use to change your mind. He looks at his arm pressed against the table and then back at you. “You can choose my next tattoo.”
Your eyebrows rise into your hairline. “Really.”
He eagerly nods. “I’ll get whatever you want wherever you want. Just. Not my face.”
“I want that in writing,” you snort.
Jungkook glances around the table and pulls a napkin from under the plate of tempura. “Do you have a pen?”
“Jungkook, you don’t have to—”
“I’m serious.” He’s not taking no for an answer.
You shake your head and rummage through your purse to supply him with a pen. He smooths out the napkin he’s chosen to use as a conduit for his promise. When he’s finished writing he slides it towards you.
I’m sorry. I can make it right.
I promise. Please give me another chance.
If I blow it you can choose what & where my next tattoo goes.
As long as it’s not my face. Let’s be friends? ♡ Jungkook
Of course he signed it with a heart. Despite his inebriation, his handwriting is still neat. Well, that’s one hell of a promise.
“Okay.” You fold the note and drop it into your purse. “We can try.”
His face lights up as he stuffs a piece of tempura into his mouth, happily chomping with his mouth wide open. He reaches for the saké but you slide a water in front of him instead.
“Friends don’t let friends get totally shitfaced at Hajime.”
He frowns at you but seems to accept your answer with a pout.
“Speaking of which… Where is Namjoon?” You crane your neck to look around the restaurant.
“Friday noodle nights common for you guys?” Jungkook asks, digging into the dessert between massive gulps of water.
“No, not really. We’re usually watching movies at my place or hanging with Hobi. But Namjoon wanted to take me out because I was sad,” you say, finally catching sight of your friend on the other side of the bar.
Jungkook’s chewing slows and he regards you with furrowed brows. “Sad?”
Before you can decide how you want to answer, Namjoon is scooting into the booth next to Jungkook and reaching for a piece of tempura. “Mmmm. What did I miss?”
“Y/N was telling me why she’s sad.”
Namjoon nods like he understands exactly what you’ve been talking about. “He’s a dick, right? Like how do you even stand someone up, not once, but twice? Makes no sense.”
“And I know what you’re gonna say, but I disagree. It has nothing to do with you or how you look, Y/N. You don’t need to workout like a maniac to try to change anything. Especially not for someone like Jason. I can’t even imagine—”
“Joon.” You click your tongue and slide a glass of water in front of him. “Please, shut the fuck up.”
As you glare at him, he looks at you with raised brows and wide eyes. Unsure what to do now that he’s obviously fubared the conversation, he casts his guilty gaze to his cup and brings it to his lips.
Jungkook stares at you with furrowed brows, trying to wait to let you fill in the blanks even though he’s itching to ask about everything. He picks another piece of tempura and stuffs it into his mouth, but when you remain silent the impulse to pry takes over. “Jason?”
“He stood me up…” you start, but you close your mouth when you realize you’re going to try to defend him. Your throat feels full, like you can’t get enough air through with a giant knot in it like this. You have to whisper so your voice doesn’t crack. “Twice.”
The couple drinking at the table nearby becomes a much more interesting place to rest your eyes than the two men across from you. Tightening your jaw doesn’t prevent the gloss from coating your eyes. Thinking about it makes you feel so stupid and desperate. Bending over backwards a thousand different ways to accommodate him couldn’t convince him to put in even a minimal amount of effort one time.
Jungkook’s eyebrows shoot up in genuine surprise. “Twice?”
The hurt you feel in your chest scorches your cheeks until anger is filling your head like a teakettle ready to release an unhealthy amount of steam right in Jungkook’s face.
“That’s what I get for giving people second chances,” you snap as you focus back on him.
Joon says your name like it’s a warning but you don’t need it. You feel guilty enough for projecting your anger onto Jungkook with a petty one-liner.
“Sorry. It’s not your fault. I just…” Your throat closes around the rest of the words.
Before an uncomfortable silence can settle over the table, Namjoon inches the bottle of saké with his fingertips until it’s in front of him. “Dating is tricky. Jason sucks. It sucks that he hurt you. But you don’t have to twist yourself into whatever you think he wants anymore. And that…” He pours the pitiful remainder of alcohol into a shot glass and slides it towards you.“ worth celebrating.”
Jungkook silently nods his head in agreement. It’s obvious you’re on the verge of tears and he doesn’t want to be the thing that pushes you over the edge.
A soft smile curls the corners of your mouth. “That’s true, but…” you slide the glass back towards him and steal the last of the banana tempura. “I can celebrate back at my apartment. Finish your water so you’ll be awake enough to join me. Both of you.”
Jungkook perks up and happily reaches for his water while Namjoon gives you a proud, yet confused look. It seems like a new start to something. What that is remains to be seen.
⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰
Jungkook watches intently as the colors of the city shine through the windows. He runs his fingers over the soft blanket you keep in the backseat, mouthing the words to the song softly playing from your dashboard. Namjoon has been talking nonstop from the passenger seat, which is fine with Jungkook since he’s feeling a little tired. The last session of the day was a bit more intense than intended, but the client left happy and covered in sweat. A success. But Jungkook is sore and exhausted. Physically and socially.
A sense of relief floods him at the memory of his conversation with you. Things may actually be okay from here. Who would have thought crashing your noodle night with Namjoon could have yielded such results?
His head bobs to the music as his eyes wander across the scenery outside until he grows bored and they drift to the interior of your car. A graduation tassel swings from your rearview mirror as you turn. He follows the movement of the tassel when it swings towards you and his eyes land on your face, or at least what he can see of it from this angle.
You look focused and calm while conversing with Namjoon but your posture is a bit rigid and your hands remain planted on the steering wheel in complete control. There’s something about this candid snapshot of your persona that puts him at ease. Your voice is a soft contrast to Namjoon’s, but equally enthusiastic.
He tilts his head as he leans back in his seat, pulling the blanket over his lap and twisting the fabric around his palm. Your eyes flicker in the rearview mirror, catching his. He gives a tiny wave and rests his head against the cushion, fighting the temptation to close his eyelids for longer than a second. The more he listens to you laugh, the more he finds himself smiling. It’s goofy.
It’s also kind of cute.
⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰
Jungkook is surprised when Yoongi answers your knock; he thought he would be asleep. He’s even more surprised when you make yourself at home on his couch and guilt him with a puppy dog pout to make you a drink, and he complies. When Jungkook asks the same, Yoongi tells him there’s beer in the fridge while measuring out the ingredients for your cocktail. The suspicious sour ache of jealousy stabs his gut as he moseys to the fridge but he quickly shakes it off, settling on the floor in front of the tv with a beer in hand.
After a couple hours of drinking, laughing, and playing Jackbox games with the three men, you’re feeling much better about everything. Life is good. Friends are good. Alcohol is very good.
It doesn’t take much to get you drunk. You’re about as much of a lightweight as Hobi and for better or worse everyone has come to know that fact. What’s nice about drinking in Yoongi’s apartment is that you don’t have to walk very far to get home. Things don’t get awkward with the three of them together; it’s actually kind of nice, like a mini Saturday night pregame.
Soon Namjoon and Yoongi are snoring on the couch with a movie playing in the background while you stand in the kitchen with Jungkook. He pours another drink for himself, though he knows it will mostly likely remain unfinished. Tomorrow may bring a massive hangover, but tonight has been surprisingly pleasant. He feels like he’s finally on okay footing with you, maybe even on the road to serious repair. Amazing how well you get along when inhibitions are replaced by inebriation. If that’s what it takes, he’s determined to keep it up.
As he turns his back to place the liquor bottle in the cabinet by the fridge, you swipe a sip of the drink he’s concocted. He spins around in time to see you wrinkle your nose and stick your tongue out.
“Hey, that’s mine!” he pouts.
“Blegh. You can have it. Yuck!” Your face screws up again at the aftertaste.
He drunkenly giggles as he slides the drink closer to him. “What, don’t like sour?”
“Too sour!” You reach for the water bottle Yoongi gave you hours ago and attempt to rinse the puckering sensation from your mouth.
Amused, he tilts his head and watches you take gulp after gulp. He purses his lips and holds back the comment itching to escape, deciding to enjoy a sip of his drink instead. You shimmy out of your hoodie and tie it around your waist and his eyes lazily follow the motion of your arms, noting a slight difference in their musculature. Some errant thought about their shape leads him back to an earlier unaddressed comment that he’s finally comfortable enough to prod you about.
“What kind of workouts are you doing?” he blurts.
Suddenly you feel very exposed. You straighten in your seat and suck in your gut, hyper aware of every imperfection of your body on display to someone so in shape. You immediately begin to fidget with the sleeves of the hoodie you just tied around your waist.
“You don’t have to tell me. I just—” he pauses, exhaling a small breath and looking down at his drink as though he’s wary of continuing the thought.
“No, no it’s fine,” you assure him, too curious to say otherwise. “What is it?”
“When Namjoon said…” he sighs and takes a sip, smacking his lips and licking them before looking back to you. “I thought maybe I can prove myself to you by helping you come up with a plan.”
“You don’t have to do that.” You plant an elbow on the counter and lean on it.
“I want to,” he insists, reaching out for your arm.
His hand is like fire engulfing your skin and your eyelids flutter at the sensation. Instinctively you place a hand over his and rub your thumb anxiously over it. He looks down to where your thumb grazes his knuckles and then back up to your face with a surprised smile.
“Um… Everything,” you say, trying to sound as vague and nonchalant as possible so he doesn’t judge you for your lack of knowledge.
“Like, full body?”
“Uh...” You’ve managed to make a habit of going to his gym a few days a week while successfully avoiding him, but it seems that time is coming to an end. “I… machine.”
“Oh. Like at a gym? Did you join one?” He seems genuinely curious.
“Um, yeah.” Suddenly you pull your hand back when you realize the speed at which your thumb is moving.
“Which one?”
The more you say, the more suspicious you seem, but is saying less any better? Jungkook rests his elbow on the counter and simply looks at you but you don’t look back. A slow smile spreads his lips as the possibility dawns on him.
“Princess… Did you join Iron Kingdom?”
You puff your cheeks and force the air through the tiny opening of your mouth. You don’t offer any sort of confirmation and continue to avoid his gaze.
“And you didn’t tell me?” he playfully prods, drumming his fingers against your forearm.
“I… Yeah,” you admit, your voice small as you stare at the counter. “I didn’t want you to know.
“I don’t want to give you another thing to make fun of me for.”
“I’m not gonna make fun of you.” When you don’t respond he tugs on your arm. The motion is enough to angle you towards him. “Hey. Hey. Hey. Hey.”
“What?” you grumble, staring at your lap even as you face him.
He takes your hands in his and drunkenly waves them around. “Heeeeeeeey. Look at me.”
He pouts until you reluctantly drag your eyes to meet his. “What?”
“Everyone starts somewhere,” he says softly. “Even me.”
The shift in his demeanor catches you off guard and you subconsciously lean forward as you relax. “Well I started with Hwasa, but I was too sore to ask for another session with her.”
He nods sympathetically, clapping his hand over yours. “You should try again.”
You shake your head. “I don’t know. I feel like…”
“Like?” he prods when you let the silence trail for a bit too long.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you sigh. “I feel like I don’t belong there. I look so stupid reading the instructions on the machines. I don’t even think I’m doing it right.”
“What?” He makes a sound between a laugh and a grunt. “There’s nothing wrong with making sure you don’t hurt yourself. Nobody knows how to instantly do things. If they tell you they do, they’re lying.”
“Or they’re Namjoon,” you say with a roll of your eyes, glancing over at your snoring friend.
He smiles and clicks his tongue against his teeth in thought. “I didn’t know what I was doing when I started.”
You’re skeptical. It’s always seemed like he was born in a gym. Or maybe hatched. He’s kind of inhumanly gorgeous. Maybe he sprouted from a flower like a mythical god.
“For real. First time doing squats. I think it was gym class? Yeah, I was like twelve or thirteen. I was… not very athletic. Didn’t play sports or anything. Kind of shy. Didn’t really have a lot of friends either…”
The way he trails off makes your heart hurt. Puberty isn’t nice to most people. It’s hard to imagine a world where someone like Jungkook isn’t instantly popular and naturally fit. While you’re not exactly the same person you were at twelve, a lot of your interests and personality quirks have remained the same. You’re still painfully awkward at times. How did he manage to overcome something like that? Is it not ingrained in him like it is you?
“Just a big dork, you know?” He laughs. “I see this girl I had a crush on, Amber. She’s looking at me. I think I have to impress her. So I’m stacking up weight and I think I’m hot shit and go too fast. Know what happened?”
“Please don’t tell me you dropped it on your foot or something,” you plead, squeezing his palms at the way he’s building up the story. The secondhand embarrassment is too real.
“I hear a pop.”
“No!” you gasp, bringing your hands to your face as if you can stop the past from happening.
“And pain. So much pain. I don’t remember putting the weights down but I remember ending up on my back, staring up at the ceiling.”
“Oh no. Knees?”
“Worse.” He points down to his crotch. “Pulled a muscle in my groin. Had to sit the rest of the day with an ice pack on my junk. Was not fun. My point is: don’t give up. You learn more as you go. Give Hwasa another shot.”
His anecdote gives you pause but you’re desperate to cling to the comfort of your anxiety. “My free trial with her is almost up and I don’t think I’ll be able to afford to keep at it.”
“More excuses,” he teases, taking a sip of his drink. “At this point I should just—” His eyes widen, a lightbulb practically forming above his head as he puts his cup down. “I’ll be your personal trainer!”
“No, no. It’s perfect. We’re friends now.” He smiles, proud of himself for finding a way to prove himself to you. “I can teach you everything you need to know about working out. I can set up a plan for you and figure out the best way to help you achieve your goals. Oh, man we’re gonna have to figure out your goals. What do you—”
“Hold on. Hold on,” you interrupt with a nervous laugh. “You’re missing the part where I still can’t afford it.”
He rolls his eyes and grabs your glass, holding it under the sink to refill it. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll cover it.”
You’re stunned into silence as you observe the expanse of his back, searching the black fabric of his t-shirt for the definition of his muscles. He sets the cup in front of you, waiting for your agreement. When it doesn’t come, he second guesses himself. Did he overstep?
“I mean if you’re okay with that. Would-would you want to do that?”
The innocent drunken sparkle in his eyes makes your stomach do a flip. When you woke up this morning you hardly thought the day would include getting sloshed with Jungkook and having him offer to take you on as a fitness trainee. It’s like he’s opened himself up just enough for you to see the soft mess beneath. You like it. You like it a lot and you kind of hate yourself for it. While you don’t know if you can trust him past the evening, you find yourself hoping you can.
“You won’t make fun of me?” you ask timidly before bringing the cup of water to your lips.
“It’s my job not to make fun of you. We start where you’re at and go from there. And like I said, I’ll cover the fees for as long as you want. No pressure.” He smiles at you. “What do you think?”
“...Okay,” you murmur with a nod of your head. “If you’re serious, then I’m… I’m in!”
His lips part to expose his teeth as his grin spreads. “Yes!”
As he brings his hand up in a sign of victory, his knuckles knock against his glass. You reach for the cup with impaired reflexes, hands fumbling over the slippery surface in conjunction with his. The sour contents spill across the counter as the pair of you struggle to right the glass. While he’s quicker at getting the glass upright, your brain is faster at processing what to do next and you already have a paper towel in hand, wiping up the liquid as fast as possible.
Your eyes follow the spill to the edge of the counter where it’s flooded over the side. Acting on instinct rather than rational thought, you quickly press down where the liquid has begun to pool in his lap. As you fold the paper towel over, you rub frantically as if the action will keep the stain from setting into the fabric. He shifts in his seat and squeaks out a sound so small that you can’t actually tell whether it came from him or the chair.
It only dawns on you how inappropriate your actions are when you glance towards his face and find his wide eyes gazing back at you. His cheeks, already flushed from inebriation, seem twice as vivid and his mouth is parted slightly as though he means to speak, but he doesn’t. Maybe he doesn’t want to embarrass you, but it’s too late for that.
Your palm stills against his crotch as the shape beneath becomes clear in your mind. For a second you’re frozen, but your lips work quickly to mumble an apology. It feels like an eternity before you will your drunken fingers to release the paper towel. The clearing of Jungkook’s throat is followed by a tiny giggle, then a full on snort. A grin spreads across your lips and you soon follow him into a fit of laughter. You thank the universe for the small mercy of being drunk enough to push your embarrassment to the side for the time being.
“I wasn’t thinking!” you wheeze, tears in your eyes from laughing so hard. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. It’ll dry.” He laughs, dabbing his pants and shirt in the absence of your hand. As he stands he pulls the hem of his shirt away from his torso and looks down at it. “Really. It’s my fault I’m so…”
“Sticky?” You quirk an eyebrow at him, a blatant flirtatious action thinly disguised as a joke as you eye the blot of liquor staining the lower half of his shirt.
Both of his eyebrows raise and a mischievous smile curls the corner of his lips. “...Wet.”
You consider his answer with a pleased hum and turn back to the counter to polish off the last of your water. You’re friends now, right? It can’t be that easy. But it kind of is. So what’s wrong with a little harmless flirting between friends?
Drunk brain, who happens to be a notorious hoe, assures you it’s great. Rational brain might disagree, but she’s taking a well-deserved nap. You’ve at least had a good night. You’re not sure it matters at this point who is giving you the attention you crave. It feels good. So good, in fact, you’re sure you can indulge drunk brain a little more.
You’re drawn to the inky shapes swirling around Jungkook’s bicep as he wipes the counter down. Every time your eyes begin to focus on an object marking his skin with some kind of meaning, he moves and you lose it. It’s brush strokes, isn’t it? You’ve definitely seen a paintbrush and mountains and a knife surrounded by roses. A swathe of grey and purple connects to each one you’ve seen, but you know there are more.
Before you can blurt that you’re dying to know how many he has and how bad it hurt to get them, he turns toward the sink and begins to work his t-shirt up his torso. You watch in awe as the toned muscles of his back are exposed. The image of the bright phoenix does little to hide their definition.
Trying to will yourself to look away is of no use; he’s hot and you’re drunk enough to acknowledge that fact. Of course he peeks at you just as the shirt slips over his head to find you open-mouthed and dazed, ogling him as though there isn’t any shame in the world that could pull your gaze from him. He turns to the fridge to give you a moment to compose yourself, nabbing a water bottle from the shelf in the process. You’re clearly not ready for the way he quickly spins on the balls of his feet to face you.
Y/N.exe has stopped working.
Your fingers hang in the air suspiciously until you lazily drop them. But Jungkook dons a toothy grin and has the audacity to look shy. He mockingly shields his chest from you with the shirt clutched in his hands.
“Princess! Are you… checking me out?”
Somehow you don’t let the fire in your face turn your brain to ash.“Pfft, no.”
“What’re you doing, then?” he teases with a laugh as he sits, scooting his chair closer to yours.
“Counting,” you reply simply, brow furrowed in concentration. To drive the point home, you poke at his flesh everywhere you can make out an object drawn into its surface.
“How many?” he wonders, watching with cloudy, amused eyes.
“Mmm…” You trail your finger down his arm and back up, following the curve of the brushstroke around his shoulder. “Can’t tell if this counts as one.”
He shrugs and rests his head on his palm as he leans against the counter. “What do you think?”
You hesitate when he quickly quirks a brow.
“I think… A lot.”
“Definitely accurate,” he says with a grin.
Awkward laughter steers the pair of you towards your waters. The TV in the background provides enough noise to steal your focus; you’re grateful for the distraction from the attractive man beside you. Drunk brain is telling you to touch him again, to grab his hand, to feel the touch of someone just for the night, to ruin every good thing this night has started to rebuild between you. Anything to stave off the emptiness of your bed, the 2AM thoughts of failure, and the drunken desperation to find someone, anyone, who will fall in love with whatever image you happen to project on your dating profile.
Heart pounding wildly in your chest and blood rushing through your ears, your fingertips tap against the countertop as they inch closer to where his arm rests. Luckily your futile attempts at nonchalance go unnoticed. Jungkook anxiously turns his water bottle over in his hands, trying to gather words in his brain before freeing them from his mouth.
“So…” he begins.
You jump at the sudden sound and retract your hand while he’s not paying you any mind.
“I was thinking. About that guy…”
You wish you could at least pretend you don’t know who he’s talking about. You’ve vented plenty tonight, but still your heart sinks. Deleting Jason’s digital footprint from your life was simple and quick, but the feelings of rejection and disappointment that swirl in the back of your mind spill forward the longer his pause continues.
“I know this probably means nothing coming from me. But I just— I know you liked him, but you can do better.“
Your posture stiffens at his reassurance and you find yourself grateful he’s not looking at you. Do you deserve better?
“You deserve better,” he affirms, as if somehow aware of your internal struggle.
“Thanks,” you murmur with a distinct lack of enthusiasm as you stare down your glass.
It's cry hours, isn’t it?
Realizing you don’t believe him, he takes a deep breath and nudges you with his elbow. “Hey.”
“What.” You refuse to look up because you know you’re on the verge of an irrational stream of tears over some guy you hardly knew. It’s stupid and you know it. But the wet warmth coating your eyes tells you it’s coming regardless.
“I’m... sorry that you don’t feel like you do. Some people can’t get over the weight of their own shit. But that doesn’t mean it’s on you to pick it up for them. If they can’t even bother to carry themselves to meet you halfway, then they’re not worth the effort.”
It’s a perfect time for your heart to seize up and it takes the opportunity to do so. The advice he offers doesn’t stave off the tears, but it resonates deep within you. Namjoon said something similar. It makes you ache to hear it again from someone else. It just leads you back to the same questions you keep asking yourself. What’s so wrong with you that people don’t even want to try? Is it your personality? Physicality? Is it a lack of confidence? What is it?
‘I can’t even get a shitty guy to like me. Maybe I’m the one not worth the effort.’ You don’t dare say those words out loud. Pity isn’t something you’re looking for. A warm body to fill your bed maybe, but not pity.
“Sounds easy when you say it like that,” you murmur, trying in vain to will the tears not to fall. You’re quick to swipe at them and force a smile. “I guess I have trouble giving up on people. It’s not that I’m naive. I try to be realistic. But no matter how many times I get fucked over I just... hope for the best in people. I can’t help it.”
He pats your arm reassuringly. “That’s why you deserve better.”
If only it was as simple as hearing those words and magically being able to believe it. A big chunk of your confidence has crumbled away and there’s no clear path to restoration. As the warmth of his palm comes to rest against your arm, you place your hand over his and squeeze.
“I don’t know if I believe it,” you pause and thoughtfully add, “but thanks for saying it.”
His eyebrows raise in surprise and he offers a tiny, “You’re welcome.”
A shaky chuckle passes your lips. All of his features seem to soften the more you look at them. Maybe it’s the drunken gloss coating his big brown eyes or the way his lips slightly part as he looks back at you. The tightly coiled nerves in your belly urge you to unravel.
Although it's a subtle gesture, he licks his lips as he smiles and it practically seals your fate. If you don't leave now you're bound to do something you'll regret.
"It's late. I should sleep."
Or masturbate.
The speed at which you launch yourself from the seat is unpleasant. You're not sure what's worse: the dizzying vertigo or waves nausea sloshing in your gut. Jungkook's reflexes may be delayed but he's a steady mass of muscle the moment you reach out to steady yourself.
"Whoa. You okay?"
"Maybe," you mumble, finding yourself drawn to the heat radiating from his skin. Instead of walking away, slump down to rest your cheek against his shoulder and sling an arm around him. You might be drunker than you thought. "I don't know."
"Hmm. What do you need, princess?"
"Just wanna stop spinning."
His stance shifts to better accommodate the additional weight you press against him.
"How about you take over Yoongi's bed tonight," he suggests softly. "He's passed out anyway."
"No, I should go home." You peel your cheek from the warmth of his skin.
“You gonna make it there?”
“Yes,” you say indignantly. The world may be a bit wobbly right now, but you’re certain you can handle the short stroll down the hall.
"Okay.” He smiles, loosening his hold. As you step back your foot catches on the leg of the chair and it drags loudly against the floor.
Despite Jungkook’s attempt to keep you standing by grabbing at your arms, he loses his balance and he drops to his knees. The chair clatters to the floor before your ass does. Luckily his grip keeps your back and head far from impact, but you’re too cramped to be comfortable.
“Are you okay?” he asks. Those big, dark doe eyes of his are frozen in fear and a frown adorns his face. He looks so serious it’s ridiculous.
You can’t help but laugh, wiggling backwards to make space between his body and the heat steadily building between your legs. “I’m fine. Stop making that face.”
“Huh? What do you mean?” He sits back on his feet and tilts his head to the side in confusion.
He breaks into a fit of giggles when you dramatically mimic his expression. You roll back onto your elbows, making another ridiculous face to further mock him.
“No, no. It’s more like…” Jungkook takes the opportunity to lean over you, reaching with one hand to squeeze your cheeks to pucker your lips. You blow a disjointed raspberry at him before pulling his hand off to the side.
While the clamor of the fallen chair did nothing to rouse the men on the couch, the sound of Jungkook’s hearty laughter is loud enough to disturb the rhythmic snores of Namjoon.
Jungkook sits back on his heels and peeks over the countertop. He seems miles away, even as you sit up and scoot in to bring yourself closer. Laughter fades into a quiet hum as Namjoon’s snoring resumes.
You're lost in the abyss of his gaze as he turns his head to look back at you. All that remains in your brain at this point is a foggy desire to tug on the silky spirals of his ebony hair until he presses himself against you one more time.
Your hand settles for following the curves of his bicep instead, wondering how it might feel to be wrapped within his embrace. Some might say liquor makes you bold and stupid, and they're right. They should say it. But it also makes you feel invincible, like a goddamn glowing Mario star power-up.
Enraptured, his eyes follow the motion of your hand as it slithers around his arm and squeezes. Unable to ignore the prompt, he answers with a flex against your palm. His ego swells when you shiver and noticeably hold your breath.
You know it's a mistake. You know it goes against all of your sober judgement, but you find yourself doing it anyway. It doesn't matter that you still harbor a grudge that holds your heart hostage. Drunk hoe vibes are taking the wheel. You’re tired, drunk as hell, and just want to feel wanted. And he's here.
Every fiber of your inebriated being is singing in unison: Why the fuck not?
Heartbeat pounding against your eardrums, you attempt to gauge his reaction as you lean towards him. It's hard to tell from beneath half-lidded eyes, but you think he's leaning towards you too. If he isn't you suppose you can always play it off like you're just a mess. It's not far from the truth. Focusing on the tiny freckle below his lip, you allow yourself to finally close your eyes and go for it.
But the universe isn’t here for your dumb boozy bitch mistakes.
The front door swings open with the sound of jingling keys dropping to the floor. It snaps you back to reality and you freeze, realizing there's no defense that will save you. Jungkook is quick to disengage, poking his head above the counter to acknowledge Hoseok’s presence with a wave. But his friend is completely enamored with the company he’s ushering towards his bedroom.
“Yeah, baby? How bad?” Hoseok whispers to the giggling girl wrapped around his arm.
He pins the stranger against the door to drag his tongue across her neck. Their bodies move rhythmically in a slow grind, a precursor for what’s likely to come. Jungkook purses his lips. How long until one of them notices him watching? It’s not until the girl moans Hoseok’s name softly that Jungkook spares a panicked look towards you.
Oh shit.
You gesture for him to get down before he draws their attention. The last thing you want to explain is why you’re on your knees in Hoseok’s kitchen with a very shirtless Jungkook standing close by. He obliges your silent request, squatting down beside you.
“Feel how hard you made me?” Hobi chuckles quietly.
The girl giggles, her voice growing closer. “You gonna fuck me right here or what?”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Naughty girl. What if my roommate wakes up? Looks like he has a friend over too. You really want them to see what a dirty slut you are?”
You can hear her giggle as he directs her where to go, failing to keep his voice down so you hear every filthy thing he says after. Your hands fly to cover your mouth. Is your skin made of lava? You want to blame it on the close proximity to Jungkook, but the only thing you can imagine is Hoseok’s dick and the eager mystery woman about to be impaled by it. Can you scrub your brain of this memory? How are you supposed to look at him after this?
Jungkook watches your face carefully, trying his hardest not to laugh. Your eyes look so big he’s pretty sure they could roll out of your skull any second. Are you really so innocent? The way you cover your mouth says you are, but maybe it’s just the shock. Maybe you’re just trying to not laugh. Or scream. Or breathe? It kind of looks like you might pass out.
Are you gonna make it, princess? he wonders.
Once you hear Hoseok's bedroom door close, you fuss your hands over your hair and scramble to your feet, releasing a big exhale. The hushed words fall from your lips while you scurry away like a timid mouse. "I should go."
Despite being too far to make contact, he reaches out as you round the counter. "Wait—"
As soon as the word leaves his mouth he struggles to come up with the rest of his statement. There’s no reason to keep you here, except to maybe laugh a little about what just happened to smooth over any second-hand embarrassment. So why doesn’t he want you to go?
He swallows down the blank space caught in his throat and searches every last crevice of his brain for something of import to say. Guilt weighs his gut down, though there isn’t a clear cause. He’s probably screwed something up again without realizing it.
“Thanks for giving me another shot,” he says softly.
You breathe a sigh of relief and offer a tiny smile as you half turn, your hand already on the door handle. “Don’t blow it.”
He nods with a smile. “I won’t. Goodnight.”
“‘Night,” you mumble.
As soon as the door is closed you practically sprint down the hall to lock yourself within your apartment. Maybe it will also lock out all the mistakes your brain has made tonight.
The world feels colder now that you’re not pressed against the human-shaped heater that is Jeon Jungkook. Thinking about him makes your heart swell and ache at the same time. Regardless of how badly you wish you'd asked him to bed, you know loneliness is fleeting and guilt would be a far worse feeling to be saddled with.
⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰
Jungkook picks up the fallen chair, finding your soft, worn hoodie draped over it. Rubbing a thumb over the material, he considers running it back to you, but he can't remember which door is yours. It's not like he's been here often enough to know. Instead he slips his arms through the sleeves before flipping the hood over his head.
He settles on the floor in the space he previously claimed for the night, pulling a blanket out from under Yoongi's ass. Yoongi rolls his head up, a scowl on his features though his eyes remain closed. He grumbles but lies down, facing the couch.
Jungkook regards his friend for a moment before deciding to drape the blanket over him instead of claiming it for himself. Jungkook rolls onto his side and fluffs the throw pillow under his head. As he watches the credits roll on the TV, he nuzzles into your sweater.
He closes his eyes, thinking of you. He knows he shouldn't linger on the little occurrences of the night, especially with how foggy his brain is. He can't trust anything about his memory.
Still he thinks of the way your fingers trailed along his arm and curled tightly around his bicep. He lets himself dwell on the tiny sound you made, the involuntary tremble of your body, and the subsequent hitch in your breath.
He smiles and inhales the subtle scent you've left behind. A new spark of adrenaline fans flames that inflate his ego, spreading warmth from his stomach up into his chest. The world may wobble around him right now, but the little magical warmth within his gut helps him comfortably drift off to dreamland like he's the world's most immovable object.
607 notes · View notes
sopeverse · 11 months ago
bts reaction: bulging kink
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genre: smut, do not interact if you’re under 18
warnings: unprotected sex, fingering, slight size kink, just some bangtan cock peaking out against your stomach as they fuck you
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Jin held your hips in a bruising grip, cock buried deep inside your heat as you arched into his body, pressing your bare chest against his own. His hungry eyes remained fixed to your belly, watching the outline of his dick appear against your skin with each desperate thrust of his length. His thumb gently traced the protruding bulge, cock throbbing against your walls while small, needy whimpers left your lips from the pressure he was applying to your stomach, causing you to tremble under his touch.
“Am I too big for you honey?”
Yoongi raised his hips to meet the pace of your own, cock brushing past your dripping folds before filling you to the brim while you moaned greedily on top of him. His darkened eyes raked over your fucked out form, tracing over the slight bulge jutting out against your belly, a groan leaving his kiss-bruised mouth as he realised it was the contours of his dick pressed into you. He flattened his large palm onto the bump, gazing in satisfaction as you withered in his hold, clenching tightly around his cock while breathless begs left your parted lips.
“Fuck that’s hot.”
Hoseok groaned against your mouth once his length slipped into your oozing cunt, burying every inch of his aching cock inside your pussy. He left hot open-mouthed kisses against your warm skin, savouring the sounds of your whimpers as his hands traced your figure, stilling when he felt a large protrusion on your stomach. He detached his lips from you, ignoring your needy whines once his eyes made contact with the bump that poked out against your skin. He felt himself harden inside of you at the sight of his thickness filling you up, eyes staying trained on your stomach as he continued to fuck up into you.
“You’re so tiny, taking me so well.”
Namjoon’s fingers gripped onto the skin of your thighs, his gaze not once leaving your clit as he watched his length brush past your pussy with each push of his hips. You whimpered into his neck, holding tightly onto him as he filled you up with his fat cock, arching into his chest once he throbbed deep inside you. Choked moans left your lips from the sudden sensation of his hand pressing down on your stomach, ensuring that you felt every inch and vein of his dick. His long fingers trailed over the bulge jutting out against you, stroking the skin as buried your face in his hair, sobbing while he continued to cruelly overstimulate your cunt.
“You like it when I fill you up like this huh?”
Jimin teased your clit with his long digits while his cock stayed stilled inside your sensitive pussy, ignoring your pitiful begs with a certain smug glint in his dark eyes. He hovered above your breathless form, dark gaze roaming your nude figure before halting on your stomach, his arousal seeping out of his cock and into your womb once he noticed the bump that peeked out against your skin. His length throbbed deep inside you at the sight, thumb gently stroking your stomach before pressing down hard on the bugle, grinning cruelly as choked moans left your wet lips.
“You’re such a pretty doll for me.”
Taehyung fucked your tight hole hard and fast, roughly abusing your cunt with his thickness as you clenched around him, milking him dry. His sticky cum leaked out of your pussy, seeping down the skin of your thigh before he stilled inside of you, dark eyes trained solely on your belly. He breathed heavily against you, his large palm applying pressure against your stomach, hungrily staring as you withered against his touch. He groaned at the sight of your fucked out expression, hair fanned out beneath you and parted lips with the contours of his dick straining against you. He thought you never looked more beautiful.
“Tell me how it feels sweetheart, taking my big cock so well.”
Jungkook threw his head back against the pillows, choked groans leaving his lips as you continued to bounce on his needy cock. His hands held a tight grip on your hips, ceasing your movements and keeping you fully seated on his length, observing the dent that protruded against the skin of your stomach. You felt him pulsate against your folds, the tip of his cock rubbing against your cervix. His hips raised to meet your own, eyes trained on the indent of his cock each time he slipped into your wet cunt, your liquids trailing onto his thigh as he used your body.
“You’re so pretty baby, tell me how much you love my cock.”
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suga-kookiemonster · a year ago
ego 07
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summary⇢ what’s a girl to do when her sweet, innocent baby lab partner isn’t quite so sweet and innocent? well, he’s a grown-ass man, and you’re about to learn that the hard way. pairing⇢ jungkook/reader word count⇢ *stares into the camera like i’m on the office* ...16k rating⇢ 18+ genre⇢ smut | humor | college!au | fuckboi!au | fratboy!au warnings⇢ sexual content, drinking/smoking/partying, jungkook got a nasty mouth (but we been knew so 🤷🏽‍♀️), oral (female receiving), fingering, everybody gets salty for one reason or another, hurt feelings, yoongi is,,frankly,, appalled
a/n⇢ remember how this was supposed to be part of chapter 6? LMAO i got jokes 🤣 but whatever, we made it! thank you to everyone for sticking with me and i hope you find it worth the wait 💜lucky number 7!! 🗣🗣LET’S GOOOOO 🗣🗣 *in my UGH! voice*
this chapter is dedicated to @infinitehobi​ for talking me down from the proverbial ledge one night 😩 you a REAL one 🙌🏾 mood is this. hope you enjoy!
chapters⇢ previous | next | series masterlist
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You spent longer than you technically needed to in that bathroom, trying your best to regain your bearings. To slow the heartbeat drumming in your ears into something that made it easier to ignore the way your body was still tingling.
Because everything was fine. Had it only just occurred to you that getting into the same bed as Jungkook would not be the same as getting into the bed with Namjoon? Yes, because you were a dumbass. But you were also a drunk dumbass, so it was totally reasonable for you to be acting like a jittery virgin on prom night.
You let out a long breath, rolling your eyes at yourself. Because fucking again with the prom analogy. This was not prom and you were not a virgin and frankly your virginity had absolutely nothing to with anything at all because all you were about to do was get in bed and go to sleep. Next to Jungkook. In the same bed as you.
Everything is fine, you reminded yourself through the haze of liquor. Chill. Stop making it weird and go the fuck to sleep.
You couldn’t help the grounding breath you took, suddenly scrutinizing your choice of nightwear with new eyes. In general, it wasn’t anything too risqué—just a t-shirt advertising your university’s Segway club that you had swiped off a table for free during freshman orientation week and a pair of sleep shorts. You hadn’t thought twice about said shorts when you had stuffed them in your bag earlier that day, but now you found yourself inspecting their length in the mirror, wondering if the healthy stretch of thigh they showcased was too much.
It doesn’t matter anyway, you reminded yourself, shaking your head of the lingering thoughts. You didn’t bring anything else and it doesn’t matter because everything is fine. GO TO BED.
Distractedly slinging your dress over your arm, you opened the door before your drunken mind could talk itself through more loops…and almost immediately regretted it when you were greeted with the sight of Jungkook’s back, golden and bare. You had caught him while he was in the process of taking his shirt off, one of his arms still in encased in its designated sleeve, and at the sound of the bathroom door opening, he looked over his shoulder at you, muscles rippling beneath his skin at the movement.
For fuck’s sake.
“S-Sorry.” Your eyes averted to the ceiling, partially to preserve his modesty, but mostly to preserve your senses. Seriously, what was your problem? It was just Jungkook.
“For what?” Just Jungkook asked, prompting your gaze to drift back to his form. He was looking back at you, the corner of his mouth quirked in light confusion. His dress shirt and tie had been tossed over the chair by the window, leaving him in a pair of low-slung pajama pants. Christ, you could count his abs from here.
You huffed out an irritated exhale. “Nevermind. Which side do you want?”
“Doesn’t matter to me.”
It didn’t matter to you either, so you headed for the side closest to you, pausing along the way to hang up your dress (because unlike other people in the room, you were civilized and you didn’t want it to wrinkle). You started to pull the covers back, but couldn’t help but pause when you noticed your date doing the same. “Jungkook. Where are your pajamas?”
He looked down at himself confusedly. “These are my pajamas.”
Your eyes drifted across his naked chest. “Where is your…” You stopped yourself, looking pointedly away. You know what? It didn’t even matter. It didn’t even matter that his pecs looked firm enough to beat like bongos. Who cared if he put on a shirt or not? Didn’t matter one bit. Nope. So you just shook your head and shuffled under the covers, dead set on ignoring the way his dusky nipples pebbled as the air conditioning kicked back on.
Jungkook reached over to turn off the lamp on his nightstand, and suddenly you were enveloped in complete darkness as your eyes slowly adjusted to the dim, barely-there light peeking through the curtains from the street lamps outside. You stared in the direction of the ceiling, all of your other senses on high alert now that your sight was essentially taken away.
The bed started to dip a bit before you felt him pause. “Are you cold? I turned the thermostat down, but I can turn it back up if you want me to.”
“Are you kidding me? My favorite part of staying in a hotel is blasting the air conditioning and climbing under the covers,” you scoffed. “That, and how there’s always this very light, lingering smell of chlorine in the hallways even when there is no pool.”
“Cool,” he replied, and even though you couldn’t see more than the shape of him as he climbed into bed, you could hear his smile.
For a few moments, you were both silent, the sheets ruffling a bit as Jungkook got comfortable on his side of the bed. Said bed was big enough that the two of you truly didn’t have to touch unless you wanted to, and though you definitely found that fact reassuring, your fingers twitched with curiosity. Stupid monkey brain encouraging you to hop on the closest dick. Stupid tequila.
Jungkook softly, but audibly inhaled, like he was gearing up to say something of importance, and it jolted you out of your increasingly thirsty, introspective thoughts. You looked over to his shadowed form, weirdly on edge as you waited.
In the end, he merely shuffled on his side, turning away from you. “Goodnight, noona,” he murmured.
A feeling slowly trickled through you, and you cleared your throat when you realized that it was not unlike disappointment. “Goodnight.”
Minutes passed in silence, and it took you a bit to realize that you were staring at his back, contemplating the broad pane of skin as if it held all the answers to questions you didn’t even know you had. It was the rhythmic slowing of his breathing, paired with the warm weight of the comforter, that finally lulled you to unconsciousness.
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You had always been a bit of a light sleeper, any disturbance to your surroundings—someone mowing their lawn or talking on the phone or shutting a door too forcefully—able to rouse you into disgruntled consciousness. Alcohol from the night before had dulled your senses for a few, blissful hours, but in the end, nothing could stop your subconscious from always being on high-alert. This time, it was excess warmth and movement that made you stir.
For a few moments, you stared at the wall blearily, your brain slowly trying to regain its bearings and figure out what had disturbed you. You blinked, trying to dazedly put the pieces together. To remember where you were, why this situation felt familiar. And then something behind you shifted.
You froze, your drowsiness rapidly disappearing as you started to realize what was going on. There was hot breath gracing the crook of your neck, a heavy arm slung around your waist.  
Something hard pressed to your form with intent, making you reflexively swallow.
It may have been a while since you had been in this sort of situation, but even barely-lucid you could recognize the feeling of morning wood poking you in the ass.
Your breath started to quicken as it all came back to you. Jungkook. You were at the Beta Tau formal with Jungkook, in the same bed as Jungkook. And you were fairly certain that that was Jungkook Jr. trying to sneak its way between your cheeks. What.
As if he could sense your mounting alarm, the man behind you began to stir, audibly inhaling deeply from his nose and shuffling beneath the sheets. He hummed sleepily, stretching his legs one by one and nuzzling a little further into your skin. The muscled arm around you unconsciously pressing you closer to him.
And then you felt him still, posture suddenly ramrod-straight. Slowly, his face pulled away from your neck, the arm around you slackening.
He was awake. He was awake, and pretty soon he was going to find out that you were too.
You clenched your eyes shut, hoping against all hope that you could avoid the awkward conversation the two of you were about to be forced to have. Attempting to smooth your expression into one of ignorant unconsciousness as adrenaline pounded through you. Your eyes were closed, but that didn’t stop you from feeling his close proximity as he gingerly leaned over you to scope out your face.
Sleep, sleep, sleeping, you were sleeping, the shrill voice in your head reminded you as you belatedly remembered that you needed to breathe to keep up your ruse. There was an extremely-long moment of silence where Jungkook observed you and you pretended you were completely unaware that he was doing it. Finally, what could only be described as a relieved sigh left his lips, and then the heat of him was gone.
Your body sagged into the sheets. God, they should give you an Oscar for that one.
“Really?” he muttered to himself, rolling away from you. “Fucking really gonna do this now?” The bed shifted, and when you heard shuffling by the window, you knew he had gotten out of bed. You waited a few more moments before pretending to wake, yawning exaggeratedly and popping your head up. Jungkook, now on his way to the bathroom and therefore right in your line of sight, froze like a deer in the headlights. His hair had been mussed into awkward disarray throughout the night, and you would have found it cute if you weren’t two seconds away from triggering your fight or flight response.
Neither of you said anything at first, just merely looking at each other. You swiped your tongue over your dry lips, not noticing the way Jungkook swallowed in response. “…Good morning,” you offered.
“Morning,” he replied, tone a tad too high.
You raised an eyebrow at that. “Is everything okay?” you asked, happy that your own voice was still too thick with sleep to give you away.
“Fine!” he cut in, much too quickly for things to be fine. Despite that, if you hadn’t already been privy to the…problem he currently had, you likely wouldn’t have noticed the way he was using the clothes he had apparently grabbed from his bag to hide his crotch from your view. “I didn’t mean to wake you. I’m just gonna hop in the shower first, so you can go back to sleep if you want to.”
You paused, but ultimately shook your head. “Nah, I’m awake now. Plus, doesn’t this place have complimentary breakfast? I think I’m gonna go scope it out.”
“S-sounds good. I’ll meet you down there.” With one last nervous smile, Jungkook booked it into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him and leaving you alone.
It was quiet then, the silence only cut by the sound of water running through pipes as your runaway roommate turned the shower on. Sighing, you sat up, still scrambling to get your bearings. Had he been the one to cross the invisible bed barrier…or had you?
A quick scan of where you were currently laying made you snort out a laugh. It appeared that technically, you both had somehow migrated towards the middle—with you a smidge more over the line than he was. Huh. Well, no harm, no foul. You hadn’t been lying when you had said that you liked cuddling under the covers in cold rooms, and you couldn’t be faulted for what you did while unconscious! Jungkook neither! Morning wood was perfectly normal and healthy and part of the REM cycle and—
Your looked back at the shut bathroom door, thoughts unable to stop drifting towards what you knew with certainty he was doing in there. It was only after a few seconds of you being lost in your wandering thoughts that you jumped, realizing what you were actively thinking about. NOPE, you mentally repeated like a mantra, shaking your head and scrambling out of bed. NOPE. See, what you weren’t going to do was that. Nope, nope, NOPE.
Frazzled, you rooted through your bag for the t-shirt that was provided for you to wear today and a pair of shorts. After dressing in record time and wrangling your hair into a ponytail, you hauled ass out of there.
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The room where the hotel hosted breakfast was already filled with a decent amount of people wearing neon-purple BTS shirts when you got there, everyone filling their plates with carbs to either repair damage done the night before or to prepare for the day ahead. A quick scan of the room alerted you to Yoongi, already posted up right next to the giant coffee thermoses and blinking sleepily, as well as Namjoon and Lisa, heads suspiciously close as they sat at a table alone.
Brows raised and intrigued by this new development, you made your way to the small buffet line, deciding to get food before you properly investigated. You ended up behind Seokjin, who already had his plate piled high. He turned his head as you approached, a relatively-long donut hanging out of his mouth, making a noise at you from the back of his throat in greeting as he slowly chewed and worked the pastry further into his mouth.
“Good morning to you too,” you snorted, shaking your head at his uncouth display, but unfortunately used to it. You grabbed a plate and started spooning scrambled eggs on it. “I’m assuming the food is decent?”
Seokjin let out an affirmative hum around his donut, tossing some sausage links on his near-overflowing plate. Your lips quirked in amusement as you focused on your own.
It started off subtly enough. When you reached for the sausage tongs yourself, you accidentally grabbed too many links—and, disgusted at the thought of moving food back into the tray after it had already touched your plate, you simply shrugged and let it be. Someone at your table would eat it. Probably Jungkook—that boy was a black hole.
But as you went along the line, unconsciously picking up other things that you knew Jungkook would eat—a mini box of Cocoa Puffs, his favorite cereal; an apple; a cheese danish—it started to only make sense to simply grab another plate instead of gradually overloading yours. So you did. One scoop of things easily morphed into two, and you soon found yourself even doubling back to the eggs and bacon, effectively walking over to Namjoon’s table with two breakfasts.
Lisa looked up at you as you approached, smiling in greeting. She was dressed similarly to you—the same mandated t-shirt as everyone else in the group, a pair of shorts, and her long, light-brown hair swept into a ponytail. However, unlike some bitches you knew, her look seemed like it was more intentional and less the result of escaping an erection. Actually, now that you thought about it, sis was smiling kind of hard right now. Maybe the very reason she looked way more put together in the same outfit as you was that, unlike you, she hadn’t tried to escape the morning erection. Your eyes slid over to Namjoon, whose focus was still solely on Lisa, a dopey grin on his face.
Your best friend finally noticed your presence when you made to sit in the seat across from his. His eyebrows raised at your two plates. “Damn, what are you so hungry for? Your period isn’t supposed to be for two more weeks.” His eyes narrowed suspiciously. “And you don’t even like Cocoa Puffs.”
“First of all, fuck you. Maybe I’m just a fatass, ever consider that?” you retorted, skin heated at being called out. “But if you must know, one of these is for Jungkook.”
“Jungkook, huh?” He looked at you slyly. “You never make a plate for me.”
“Last time I checked, you have hands,” you scoffed. Namjoon opened his mouth, obviously to irritatingly point out the fact that Jungkook also had hands, so you quickly cut him off. “Jungkookie lost his hands in a tragic paragliding accident, eat your damn croissant.”
He did nothing to hide the smirk creeping across his face. “Who loses their hands paragliding?”
“Clearly, you’ve never seen Jungkook paraglide,” you snipped sassily. “You know what? I’ll be right back—I’m definitely gonna need coffee to deal with you today.”
You heard him snickering as you turned on your heel for a quick trip back to the coffee thermoses, hands newly freed. Yoongi, still standing there and on what had to have at least been his second cup, appeared to finally be becoming a person. He actually blinked at you when you approached, which was more than you could say for the zombie who had seemingly been standing guard in silence five minutes ago. He even managed to give you a delayed nod as you poured yourself a mug and grabbed a few creamer cups to bring back to the table. Yoongi had never been a morning person, but add a hangover into the mix? If caffeine hadn’t been involved, you doubted he would have dragged himself out of bed at all.
Namjoon and Lisa were once again sitting close when you returned to the table, speaking softly enough that their voices didn’t carry over the din of the room. Realizing they were seemingly on the verge of resuming their breakfast canoodling, you pointedly cleared your throat to announce your presence. “So!” you said cheerily, plopping into your chair and reaching past Namjoon for a sweetener packet. “What are we doing today?”
“Did you not read the agenda?” Joon asked irritably. “I sent you an email last week.”
You stirred in a couple vanilla creamers as you thought. “Hmmm…oh, you know what? I remember seeing an email from you, but I never ended up opening it because I got distracted. Bath and Body Works sent out an email alerting me that three-wick candles were on sale. I dropped a ridiculous amount of money like a true basic bitch, but I have no regrets.”
Lisa perked up, interested. “Wait, is the sale still happening?”
“Sorry, girl, it was only a two-day sale. But! Feel free to stop by my place and take a couple of mine. I damn near bought the entire store.”
“You realize it’s not a sale if you end up spending way more money than you intended, right?” Joon deadpanned.
You ignored him, taking a bite of scrambled eggs. “Come over any time, babe.”
“Really? You don’t have to.”
“Listen—one could say that I now have an embarrassing amount of candles in my possession. I promise you I won’t miss a couple.”
She sent you a grateful smile, and it lit up her whole face. Wow, was she pretty. “Thank you, _____.” And nice. Namjoon had really done good with this one.
And speaking of Namjoon, he was rolling his eyes at the exchange, but you still noticed the way the corners of his mouth lifted. Just like you, he had to be relieved that you and Lisa got along so well. “Ah,” he said suddenly, smiling at something over your shoulder. “Jungkooks!”
Any good humor you had froze at the word, startled heart skipping a beat. Your head whipped around, and sure enough, behind you, there was Jungkook, wearing the same purple t-shirt as everyone else, hair still damp from his shower. You forcefully swallowed the wad of sausage in your mouth.
Namjoon sent you a knowing smirk before turning back to your date. “So Jungkooks! _____ tells me you don’t have hands.”
“Don’t have hands?” Jungkook repeated, shooting you an inquisitive look as he used said hands to pull out the chair beside you. “Uh, yeah. I lost them in a tragic accident.”
“Are you sure they’re not dating?” Lisa whispered not-so-discreetly to Joon.
You shot them both an unamused look, but Jungkook was apparently too busy eying the plate in front of him to hear her. He turned to you curiously. “Is this for me?”
“Um, yeah,” you said quietly, suddenly shy. You cleared your throat, pushing a bit more confidence into your voice. “You like these, right?”
When he grinned at you, his eyes crinkled at the corners. “Yeah.”
Oh. Oh no. This could not be happening. It had to be the hotel’s shitty lighting. Haddddd to be. Why else would it look like was he sitting there smiling at you, eyes sparkling like he was a big titty anime girl? Unless he was a big titty anime girl.
You know what? In all honesty, that would explain a lot.
“Good.” You looked back at your plate, stuffing another sausage link in your mouth. “Joonie, you never answered my question.”
His brows furrowed. “Why filthy-rich celebrities choose to wear bad wigs?”
“No, not that—though, honestly, what the fuck is up with that? There’s literally no excuse.” You shook your head, getting back to the matter at hand. “What are we doing today?”
“Wine tour,” Lisa said gleefully, clearly enthused at the idea of driving to multiple wineries and getting plastered, all under the guise of being fancy. You didn’t blame her—that sounded like a great time to you, and you easily returned her smile.
A knee knocking into yours under the table had your eyes reflexively seeking out the culprit’s.
Thank you, Jungkook mouthed, and you hid the tug of your lips behind your coffee mug.
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BTS was a decently-sized frat, a good 40 brothers living in the frathouse that year and a number of others living off-campus. And, since each brother had been allowed to invite one other person on this trip, the number of people in your party had doubled, at minimum. This meant that all of you would not be able to comfortably visit each winery together, and thus had been split into three groups that would travel via three different buses, rotating through three different destinations.
As late-risers started to rush into the dining room in an attempt to get some breakfast before the buffet closed, you felt it best to give up your table and wait outside, as the buses were due to arrive soon anyway. Jungkook chose to join you, having finished everything on the plate you made him, as well as the second plate he had gotten up to make himself. The two of you stood in the designated lot in front of the hotel, waiting with others who had finished eating.
“We’re on Bus 2,” he informed you helpfully, lifting his arms in a stretch that made his shirt rise up just enough for a golden strip of skin to be revealed.
You politely looked away before your eyes could linger too long on his happy trail. “Who else is in our group?” you asked, clearing your throat. “And please don’t say Benji. He refuses to accept that he’s lactose intolerant, and I would rather not be forced to be in close quarters with him after he’s gone to town on all the complimentary cheeses.”
Jungkook dutifully scrolled through his phone, where he presumably had the same agenda and group assignments that Namjoon had sent you a week ago. “No Benji,” he confirmed, an amused quirk to his lips. “We do have Namjoon-hyung and Yoongi-hyung, though.”
“Excellent. Exactly who I want with me while I get wine-drunk—couldn’t have picked a better group. You like wine, Jungkookie?”
“Ehhhh…I don’t really do wine,” he shrugged easily. “Except for those individual bottles. Sometimes I like to drink those after a long day.”
“Every bottle is an individual bottle if you have the will,” you replied with a sage nod.
“No, no.” He shook his head resolutely, determined to get you to understand. “You know those little ones?”
Your brows furrowed. “..Like, from mini bars?”
“No, bigger than that. Like the size of a beer, but wine.”
You blinked, brain shuffling through what he could possibly be talking about. “…are you talking about wine coolers?” you asked incredulously, smile growing at the ridiculous thought. “Jungkook, you know those are for sorority girls and middle-aged aunties at barbecues, right?”
“Don’t look at me like that,” he sniffed. “The blue one is fire.”
You bit your lip to tamper your urge to laugh, instead sending him a quirked eyebrow in response. Still, you managed to not say anything. Because he was right—the blue one was fire.
But in the end, you didn’t have to say anything at all for him to pick up on your skepticism, your amusement triggering his. You saw his lips itch to smile, even though he fought it. “They are,” he insisted, head whipping around in search of someone who would back him up. He settled on tapping on Taehyung’s shoulder, who had been chatting with Mark close enough to hear your conversation. The older man turned his head at the action. “Right, hyung? What’s your favorite flavor?”
“Pussy,” Tae offered confidently. The sudden, awkward silence that followed clued him in to the fact that his answer was a little off. “…Wait, what are we talking about?”
“Dear god,” you muttered to yourself, looking to the heavens for guidance. Mark scowled.
“Baby wine,” Jungkook supplied.
“Wine coolers,” you corrected. “Baby wine doesn’t exist because that’s illegal. And, frankly, immoral.”
“Ehh.” Seokjin, who had apparently been summoned by the word pussy, leaned closer to join the group properly. He shrugged his ridiculously-broad shoulders. “Rubbing a little on the gums never hurt anyone.”
“What the hell? Is that why you turned out how you did?” you teased with a laugh. “Because your mother dumped Tito’s in your bottle?”
Seokjin’s nose wrinkled in disgust, offense written all over his beautiful face. “Excuse you—I am a man of taste. If you must know, it was bourbon. But like I said, I’m not advocating for getting blitzed with your three-month old. I’m saying that a drop or two on the gums can help soothe them when they’re teething and crying.”
“The reason that babies cry is that, though we rapidly forget it the older we get, we are all born with the knowledge of the universe, and babies are understandably distraught at being forced to live a life of pain and suffering.”
Everyone turned to look at Hoseok, nonchalantly standing off to the side as bewildered silence stretched between you. Even his date was giving him the crooked eye.
“That,” he continued, all traces of his previous seriousness disappearing with his blinding smile, “or because their tummies have the owies! You know, sometimes it helps release the trapped gas if you rub their bellies. That worked when I tried it on Taehyung last week.”
“It did,” Tae piped up cheerfully. A chance turn of his head made him suddenly privy to his date’s growing irritation. He slung an arm over Mark’s shoulder, pulling him closer. “Come on…baby,” he purred. “I was just joking. Don’t be like that.”
That small hesitation before baby…whew chile, you would bet money that Tae had forgotten his poor date’s name again. But though your eyebrows rose to your hairline, you said nothing—just turned away and pursed your lips. You were going to mind the business that minded you.
Which, you quickly realized, apparently meant watching Jungkook and Seokjin have some sort of spontaneous sword battle with sticks they had found lying around. Dear god, you were gonna need more alcohol for this. Did people pregame wine tours? Was that a thing that people did?
Luckily, the buses started to pull into the parking lot before you could snatch one of those stupid sticks and beat them over the head with it. Your little group began to disperse, everyone moving closer to their designated pick up area. Your eyes subconsciously followed Taehyung and Mark before you realized what you were doing, your attention lingering when they met up with Jimin further down. The blond and his date were apparently on the same bus as Taehyung and his, and you secretly breathed a sigh of relief that you would at least be spared a few awkward interactions this trip.
It was only the late arrival of Namjoon and Lisa that knocked you out of your thoughts, and, shaking them away, you dutifully turned to board your bus.
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Whoever had planned the day’s excursion had done a great job—three buses of rowdy college students rotating between three vineyards in the area ensured that halfway through the second vineyard, everyone was at least properly tipsy. Vineyard Number 3 and there was nothing else that could describe the vibe but LIT. After Vineyard Number 1, no one bothered listening to the poor tour guides as they showcased the properties, and they certainly weren’t listening to them describe the different wines when groups were led back to taste them.
“Do you taste it?” Jungkook whispered as he leaned against the bar. Well, he thought he whispered. In actuality, it was on the higher-end of the volume scale, but, seeing as you were equally as inebriated, you didn’t notice at all. “The chocolate.”
“Not really,” you whispered back (read: pretty much yelled).
“What about the cherries?”
“I mostly—” Lisa hiccuped. “I mostly taste wine.”
Namjoon’s eyes grew wide with realization. “You’re so right, babe. It does taste like wine.”
A slip of the tongue. A slip of the tongue that nobody even noticed because you were all well on your way to being fucked up.
“Are you telling me none of you can taste the oak?” Yoongi’s rumbling voice chimed in. A turn of your head produced him, standing slightly behind you with his date and slowly swirling the ruby liquid in his glass to release more of the delicate aroma. His mint hair was hidden beneath a backwards snapback today, so you had full view of the judgmental raise of his brow as he took another sip. “It’s lingering right at the back of the tongue. Amateurs.”
Jungkook either didn’t hear him, or didn’t care. “This one is good,” he declared. “I’m gonna buy a bottle.”
“You said that about the last one,” you slurred. “And, and all the other ones.”
“I know! But this one is good!”
“Jungkook, what are you gonna do with five bottles of wine?”
He shot you a goofy grin. “You say that like the answer isn’t drink them. But don’t worry, I’m only gonna buy a couple!”
And he kept his word, despite how much he equally enjoyed the samples after that, ordering a bottle of that particular wine to take home as an employee guided you all out to the patio outside. You sat in the proffered chairs, sipping on wine while enjoying the gorgeous view of the vineyard.
“Wow, this place really reminds me of House Hunters,” Jungkook said in wonder from his seat next to you. You turned to look at him, caught off guard, and he immediately got self-conscious. “Don’t look at me like that! It’s a good show,” he said defensively. “Helps me fall asleep.”
Your lips quirked. “It is,” you conceded easily. “International? That one episode in France where the lady chose the smallest, ugliest one solely because it had marble countertops?”
Jungkook lit up. “Even though her whole purpose in getting a villa in France was to entertain? Yeah!”
“I can’t stand people like her,” you continued. “House Two had space, it had views, and yes it was a little further out from the city, but that’s kind of what you expect when you ask for skyline views.”
“But she rejected it because she didn’t like the colors on the walls,” he scoffed disgustedly. “Why are so many people adverse to buying a can of paint? It’s like 25 bucks. They would really rather spend more money on a place that doesn’t even have good bones.”
Yoongi, who had apparently decided to continue to be in your vicinity and join your large table outside, took a measured sip from his glass. “You do realize that show is staged,” he drawled.
The mood immediately soured.
“Really, hyung,” Jungkook replied, noticeably annoyed, at the same time you wrinkled your nose in displeasure and yelled, “Boooooo!”
Yoongi blinked slowly, unthreatened by your combined vexation. “Dear god, there are two of them,” he mumbled. But neither of you heard him, drunk and riled up.
“Shut the fuck up, no one was talking to you!” you snapped.
“A lot of shows are staged. I don’t see how that’s relevant,” Jungkook huffed, cheeks pink with alcohol and irritation.
“Tryna discredit one of the best shows on modern television, who do you think you are?!” you seethed.
“Clearly someone who wouldn’t know recessed lighting from recess!” Jungkook continued snidely.
“First of all, how dare you,” Yoongi shouted over your ramblings, visibly offended by the recess comment. “Second of all, alright. Alright, I’m sorry! Jesus Christ.”  He lifted his wine glass, desperately looking around for the hostess. “Is there more? I’m gonna need some fucking more.”
“The audacity,” you grumbled to yourself, draining the rest of your own glass. Your date stuffed aggravated handfuls of free crackers into his mouth, not even bothering to top them with any of the provided cheeses.
Namjoon rolled his eyes at your antics. “_____, could you please relax? I’ve literally been telling you for years that reality TV is scripted.”
You sent him a flat—but unfocused—stare. “Did you really just say reality TV? Stop lying—House Hunters is nowhere near the same category as 90 Day Fiancé.”
Namjoon’s stupid smug face looked very stupid and smug. “It is, actually.”
“…If you say that in my presence again, imma pop you.”
“Not my fault you refuse to listen! But one of these days you’ll learn.”
You stared him down, only finally looking away to calmly turn to Jungkook. “Don’t mind him. He’s just salty his mom sent me some kimchi the other week, but not him.”
“I’m not salty!” your best friend retorted, much too quickly to be anything else but salty. “But I would just like to state for the record that I’m the one who passed through her vagina,” he muttered under his breath. Lisa rubbed his arm consolingly. “Me.”
“Tore it too, from what I hear,” you replied breezily. “That’s probably why your ass didn’t get any kimchi.”
“You know, noona,” Jungkook started, stealing your attention from a pouting Namjoon, “you would actually do really good on a reality show.”
You perked up at the perceived praise. “You’re absolutely right, Jungkookie! I would most…I would most definitely thrive in that type of environment. Not 90 Day Fiancé, but something else.”
“Like what?” he mused. His eyes, usually wide and doelike, were markedly drooped with liquor as they drifted towards the sky in thought. “Something Survivor-esque? Maybe Masterchef?”
You balked at his suggestions, losing your balance a bit in your chair in your dramatics. “Why are you acting like you don’t know me at all? You know I don’t respond well to the outdoors or being yelled at. My biggest regret,” you slurred, pointing a finger at him, “is that I never got the chance to be on Pimp My Ride.”
Namjoon looked at you like you were slow. “_____, you don’t even own a car.”
“What’s the point in owning a car if there’s no cotton candy machine and none of the headrests have TVs in them?” you demanded.
“She makes a great argument,” Jungkook cut in reasonably with a nod.
“You know,” Lisa mused, “I heard that most of those cars ended up falling apart not too long after. Or flat out catching fire.”
“That’s just a risk you have to take to have a pimpin’ ride,” Jungkook shrugged, tone serious enough to make you burst out laughing.
Yoongi let out a long groan, waving his wineglass in the air irritably. “CAN I PLEASE HAVE SOME MORE?”
“You have to pay for it, hyung,” Jungkook snickered. When Yoongi only pouted in response, he bent over and pulled one of the bottles he had bought earlier out of his bag. A twist of the top, and he was graciously leaning over you to refill Yoongi’s glass. “Here, you can have some of mine.”
The mint-haired man muttered his thanks, docile again like a screaming baby finally given his bottle. In a move that likely simultaneously enraged every sommelier within fifty miles, Jungkook topped off the wine already in his glass with the bottle he had just opened. You opened your mouth to tease him about it, but he merely topped off your glass as well, sending you a wink when he noticed you staring.
Your eyes skirted away, suddenly shy, and you cleared your throat. “I’ve also always wanted to be on Say Yes to the Dress,” you continued. “Not because I’m tryna get married, but because I really just want to somehow find myself in a gorgeous Pnina Tornai gown that’s astronomically out of my budget so Randy can go talk to the manager in the back and get a couple cents knocked off. That is the dream, my friends.”
“I’d be on, like, Wheel of Fortune or Jeopardy,” Namjoon mused. “I’d annihilate.”
“You really would,” you agreed. “But those are technically classified as game shows, not reality shows, so you gotta pick again.”
“Fine.” He drained his glass in thought, and Jungkook enthusiastically gestured to the bottle he’d placed in the middle of the table. Joon took him up on the offer. “I’d be on Big Brother. I might fuck up some of the physical challenges, but I excel at strategy. I know how to build the right team to get me to the end.”
“Good choice,” Lisa nodded. “I’d pick Big Brother too. I can be a very unassuming person when I want to be—I’d just be really nice to everyone so no one has a bone to pick with me. Pretend to be merely an average competitor in all the challenges. Real middle of the road, just fly under the radar. And then as soon as the time is right—” Her eyes glinted, lips slowly forming a smirk. “I’m coming for everybody’s neck.”
Your jaw dropped in delight.. “That is fucking evil. Oh my god, I love you so much.”  
“I think I’d choose Fear Factor,” Jungkook pondered aloud. “I’m pretty positive I’d win. I’m pretty athletic, so I’d crush all the physical challenges. And I’m not afraid of skydiving or anything.”
“What if they made you eat bugs? Or eyeballs?” Namjoon demanded.
Your date shrugged. “I have a really strong stomach. I can eat pretty much anything, to be honest.”
Lisa shot him a skeptical look. “What if they put you in a coffin and then filled the coffin with snakes?”
“Eh, that sounds doable.”
“You’re chill about the snake coffin,” you deadpanned, squinting at him in disbelief. “You’re telling me that you are totally fine with being put in a coffin, first of all. And then to add on that, you’re telling me that you’re totally fine with said coffin then being filled with live snakes, while you’re in there. You’re fine with that.”
He shot you a wild grin. His dark hair was tousled by the wind, his cheeks pinked by the alcohol. “Let’s get it,” he declared cockily.
“…You know what? The show you really need to be on is Intervention because your ass is fucking crazy and you need some help.”
“I’d be on The Great British Bake-Off,” Yoongi drawled, unprompted. You all turned to look at him, brows raised and waiting for him to elaborate about how he whips up macarons in his spare time, but the older man simply ignored you and took another measured sip from his glass.
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It was lucky that whoever had planned this entire weekend had had the foresight to make the third winery the last one of the day, because by the time everyone clambered back on the bus for the last time, sobriety was nothing but an afterthought. The bus took you all back the hotel as scheduled, and since there was some free time before dinner, everyone naturally started splitting up. Some chose to use the opportunity to check out the pool. Others, like Yoongi, chose to retire to their rooms and recharge their batteries so they could be ready for round two.
And then there was your group.
You hadn’t bothered to bring a bathing suit, and were most definitely not in the mood to deal with your hair. Jungkook was still well in the manic-stage of drunk, so taking a nap was the furthest thing from his booze-addled mind. And the wine had sparked Lisa’s appetite, the small amount of fruit and cheese the wineries had provided not enough to satiate her. So the four of you decided to roam the pier instead.
The pier was filled with activities meant to appeal to tourists—restaurants, gift shops that sold overpriced souvenirs, a ferris wheel—and so it was a great solution for people who were all liquored up and with time to kill. After making a quick stop in your hotel rooms to drop off the wine you had bought, the four of you started roaming the strip. It was decently-crowded, vacationing families partaking in the late-afternoon sun and enjoying carnival snacks in the lake breeze, just like you. Lisa made a beeline for the food booths, all set to leave nothing but crumbs in her wake, but Namjoon reminded the group that you still had a dinner to eat in a couple hours that you had already paid for, and she reluctantly bought a soft pretzel instead, grumbling to herself as she ate.
“How is it?” you asked. You and Jungkook had decided to share a giant order of garbage nachos—only classified as garbage in your head because there was no way in hell the cheese was anything other than a form of plastic. But after he had dumped a bunch of jalapeños on top, they tasted bomb.
“You know, it’s a little too chewy for my tastes,” she moped, popping another piece in her mouth anyway as you all strolled the area. “I probably should have gone with the funnel cake.”
You looked at Namjoon pointedly. He ignored you.
Jungkook paused in his demolishing of nachos. “Funnel cake?” he mumbled, mouth full of chips. There was fake cheese in the corner of his mouth, and you couldn’t help the endeared smile that creeped onto your face, barely resisting the urge to swipe at the wayward mess with a thumb. “Should we get funnel cake? Mmmm, with whipped cream. What fruit topping do they have?”
“If we order a funnel cake, we won’t be hungry for dinner,” Namjoon reminded him. You weren’t sure who told him he needed to act like somebody’s mama, but you ultimately conceded his point that the food you had would satiate you for now.
“What do you guys wanna do?” you asked. “The paddle boat rentals are expensive and you’ve already shut down my idea of getting our faces painted like WWE wrestlers, so I got nothin’.”
“I don’t know why you would suggest that when you know I have sensitive skin,” Namjoon sniffed.
“What about the haunted house?” Jungkook piped up. “I heard it’s funhouse-themed. There’s a mirror room and everything.”
“If you’re ready and willing to bail me out of jail for punching innocent people in the throat,” you deadpanned, “then by all means. Who am I to tell you what to do with your disposable income?”
Lisa stopped walking, slowly chewing the last bite of her too-chewy pretzel. “What about this?”
Everyone paused as well, turning to look at where she was pointing.
“Laser tag?” A noticeable glint entered Jungkook’s eyes, a grin overtaking his face as he surveyed the suggested building. “I’m in.”
“Me too,” Namjoon declared. “Damn, I haven’t done laser tag since I was a kid.”
“Hell yeah! Are we doing teams or every man for himself?” you asked.
“Doesn’t matter,” Lisa said airily. “I’m winning either way.”
Jungkook’s grin widened. “I like your style. You’re with me!”
“Well damn,” you snorted. “Fine. Nobody wanted to be your partner anyway.”
“Aw, don’t get mad, babe,” he said, tone slightly patronizing as the four of you entered the building. “This has nothing to do with you. I always play to win.”
“You’re supposed to let me win,” you pointed out, fighting against the urge to smile. “What kinda date are you?”
“I don’t know who told you otherwise, but I’m a feminist,” Jungkook replied smartly. You couldn’t help the laughter that burst from you then, and he smirked at you, too smug for his own good. “I’m all about equal opportunity. If you’re not on my side, you can get these nuts just like everybody else.”
Your jaw dropped at his audacity. Oh no. Oh no no no. “Oh hell no. YOU’RE GOING DOWN, YOU COCONUT-HEAD BITCH.”
“Four, please,” Namjoon politely told the employee behind the desk. Said employee had both eyebrows raised at your group, but Joon was unperturbed by the growing ruckus behind him, pulling out his wallet.
Lisa playfully tapped Jungkook in the side with an elbow. “Don’t worry, Kook. We can beat the Wonder Twins, easy.”
“Wow. Wowwww.” You shook your head disbelievingly. “Namjoon, you better come get ya girl!”
She grinned at you, an eyebrow raised in playful challenge. “If you’re feeling froggy, then jump.”
This girl…you couldn’t help it, puffing a laugh through your nose at her boldness. No this girl did not just tell you to knuck if you bucked! The more time you spent with her, the more you were starting to realize how well your personalities meshed. It was no wonder Namjoon liked her—she was sweet, but clearly had an edge to her. You respected that.
No matter. What those two didn’t know was that you and Joon had teamwork for days! You had been teaming up for literal years—hell, he always gave you the red and pink Starbursts, and you always gave him the orange and yellow. You were about to be in your bag.
“You know, the more you drink, the more slick at the mouth you become. I like it. CHALLENGE ACCEPTED.”
“Do I have any say in this?” Namjoon asked mildly. He already knew the answer.
“No, Joonie. The challenge has already been accepted, aren’t you paying attention? STRAP UP.”
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After a brief tutorial where one of the employees explained how the guns worked and which regions of the body were worth more points, the four of you entered the dark arena with a few more groups. While you had noticed Jungkook listen to the instructions with rapt attention, your plan was to just use the same strategy that never failed you—keep shooting and hope you hit something.
Over the loudspeaker, a voice started to countdown. Everyone was given ten seconds to disperse and hide before the laser guns activated.
“Good luck,” Lisa taunted with a wink as she passed you. “You’re gonna need it.”
“Oh trust me. You’re the ones who are gonna need it!” you yelled at her retreating back. But she wasn’t listening, too busy making a series of seemingly-arbitrary hand motions to Jungkook. Arbitrary, until you saw Jungkook send back a few of his own. Your jaw dropped as they nodded to each other and promptly disappeared in different directions.
Dread started to seep through you. “What the…Namjoon. Namjoon, they have hand signals.”
“What?” your partner responded, audibly distracted. You turned towards him, only to be met with the sight of him, holding a detached piece of his gun in his hand that he most definitely shouldn’t have been.
You smacked your forehead in disbelief. Though, in all honesty, you should have seen this coming. You had known him long enough—this was classic Namjoon. “You cannot be serious right now,” you groaned. “Are you kidding me right now, Namjoon? It’s been five seconds!”
“Is this supposed to do this?” he asked, trying to jimmy the mystery piece back into place.
“I’M TRYING MY BEST!” Namjoon yelled back, panicking.
“Start,” the robotic voice boomed through the speakers. Your eyes widened. Shit.
“You know what, just get away from me,” you hissed. “We’re easy targets when we’re this close together. I’ll start on this side and you take that one.”
He nodded, large form dutifully disappearing into the darkness even as you saw him still trying to put his gun back together. God, you hoped you wouldn’t have to pay for that.
On high-alert, you slinked behind a nearby post, on the lookout for any vests glowing in the dark. But before you could even get very far, your harness vibrated, signaling that someone had shot you.
You huffed irritably, looking around but not immediately seeing anyone who could be responsible. Your gun was disabled for the next few seconds, but so were the sensors on your vest, so you used your momentary invincibility to your advantage, moving further into the arena. Glee bubbled within you when you recognized the shape of Jungkook, discernible by the neon purple shirt you both wore.
His back was to you, likely paused in his sprinting to accurately aim for his target. This was a golden opportunity that you didn’t want to pass up, your heart thudding in your ears with jittery impatience. A grin split your face when the lights that had been dancing mockingly on your gear finally quieted, and you raised your gun, finger on the trigger—
Your harness vibrated again, rendering you unable to shoot. Jungkook dashed away, completely unawares, and your head whipped around, beyond irritated.
This time, it was clear who had ruined your killshot—there was a little boy standing behind you, smirking. He couldn’t have been more than eight or nine, and he looked much too smug for your liking. You scowled in return, choosing to keep it pushing and move away from him. Didn’t little Billy know that you were on a mission? Nobody was tryna play with him, your pride was at stake!
But either he didn’t know, or he didn’t care. To your rapidly-mounting rage, that little gremlin continued to follow you throughout the arena, purposely waiting for the exact moment your gun was reactivated to shoot you again. You turned, and there was fucking Kyle! You hid, but apparently not well enough from Connor! You eventually got so frustrated that at one point, you actually said something. “Can you stop that?” you snapped, rounding on him. If this were a cartoon, you would be snorting smoke from your nostrils like a raging bull.
But despite your obvious fury, Trevor didn’t give a shit. He just looked you straight in the eye and shot you again, cackling as your gear lit up like the Christmas Tree of Defeat.
It was a good thing that the game didn’t last very long, because by the time the lights all popped back on, you had been shot by Dylan a ridiculous amount of times, Lisa had popped you a good one, and even Namjoon’s dumb behind had somehow managed to shoot you on accident. Everyone returned their gear and waited in the lobby for the final scores, but you didn’t even want to see, too busy moping to look at the screen.
“Number one—JK!” Jungkook taunted, confirming what you already knew in your gut to be true.
“And I got number three. Not bad,” Lisa mused, a satisfied smile gracing her lips.
You finally looked at the scores, though you knew it was a lost cause. There was no way in hell your score combined with Namjoon’s was more than the combination of theirs. The two of you had lost, and severely.
What the…how did Namjoon get sixth place when your own was barely on the scoreboard? This was a travesty.
“First of all, I was sabotaged,” you protested, eyes shooting over to where the root of your outrage was standing with his family. “Why the fuck were kids allowed to play?!”
“Why were kids allowed to play a glorified game of tag with toy lasers?” Namjoon deadpanned. “I dunno, your guess is as good as mine.”  
Spencer, an evil fiend who thrived on your tumultuous energy, noticed you looking his way and promptly flipped you off. Your jaw dropped, even more appalled when Spencer’s dad did nothing to parent his demon spawn, but still managed to shoot you a dirty look. Huh. That was mighty bold for somebody out here deadass looking like one of those thumbs from Spy Kids.
Jungkook watched the exchange happen and wisely slung an arm over your shoulders before you could get any dumb ideas. “Aaaaand it’s time to go. Come on, babe,” he needled cheekily, leading you back into the fresh air. “Don’t be a sore loser. I won fair and square.”
“Yeah, well you also have no upper lip,” you sniffed.
“Hey,” he pouted. “No need to be hurtful.”
He was right. “You’re right. I’m sorry,” you groaned irritably, letting yourself be led further down the pier. “I’m just hella salty. And wondering why it is exactly that we as a society decided that we shouldn’t fight little kids.”
“Come on, noona, don’t be mad,” he soothed, pulling you in closer to his body. You let him, reflexively wrapping an arm around his waist and enjoying his body heat. He smelled clean again—you really should ask him what fabric softener he used. “Here, what if I won you some prizes? I’ll win you whatever you want.”
You snorted. “Jungkook. What in the hell am I gonna do with a six-foot SpongeBob plushie?”
“Hold it tight at night and pretend it’s me,” he winked.
You burst out laughing, and he laughed too, visibly pleased with himself for that one. “Listen,” you replied, “I’ll give you some of the personality, but you and I both know you don’t look like no goddamn SpongeBob! With your Larry the Lobster headass.”
He shrugged good-naturedly. “And you’d be Sandy.”
“…I know you didn’t just pick Sandy just because we’re both girls.”
“Of course not! I also picked her because you’re both pretty.”
You rolled your eyes at that, biting your lip to tamp down your pleased smile. You were just gonna ignore his attempts at flattery. You were also gonna ignore the fact that he was apparently attracted to a cartoon squirrel.
“I can kinda see Sandy too,” a familiar voice behind you said, and you jumped a little, turning your head. It was Lisa, hanging back a little with Namjoon and trailing you and Jungkook as you aimlessly roamed.
Wow, how had you forgotten about them? You cleared your throat, kind of embarrassed at your mistake. “Why?”
Lisa shifted, and suddenly you noticed the way her fingers were casually tucked between Namjoon’s. Holy shit, they were holding hands! God, they were disgustingly cute. “You’re spunky and spontaneous like her,” she clarified. “Though mostly, I would say you’re Mrs. Puff. Mrs. Puff is sick, and Mrs. Puff is tired.”
You nodded slowly, pleased by her assessment. “That’s fair.”
“Wait, who am I?” Namjoon asked curiously.
“Squidward,” the three of you answered immediately, the resulting unamused look on Joon’s face only making you all crack up.
“Okay, that settles it! We’re doing this,” Jungkook announced, coming to a full stop at one of the stalls. He let go of you, reaching in his pocket for his wallet.
You looked at the stall, chagrined to see that there actually was a giant SpongeBob prize. Typical. “Jungkook, I wasn’t kidding when I said I don’t want that SpongeBob.”
“Nope, it’s too late.”
“Oops, sorry! Can’t hear you over the sound of me winning you Giant SpongeBob.”
You rolled your eyes in defeat, but you weren’t truly annoyed. No, that was definitely endearment that you felt warming you from the inside out. Besides, you were starting to recognize that competitive glint in his eyes—it was clear that this stopped being about you the moment he caught sight of the strategically-stacked tin cans on the shelves behind the counter.
Cans on different levels were worth different amounts of points, and in order to win SpongeBob, Jungkook would have to knock down all of the ones on the top level and a couple on the level below. “Piece of cake,” he said confidently, easily handing over five bucks to the attendant in exchange for some beanbags.
You stood off to the side with Namjoon and Lisa, observing as Jungkook threw the first beanbag as a test and knocked down a can from the second-highest row. He puffed out his chest, waggling his eyebrows at you, and when you couldn’t help but laugh, he made a big show of winding up his arm before tossing his second bag. That one hit a top-level can dead center—
But the can didn’t fall.
His cocky smile fell, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as he continued to throw the bags one by one, and despite solidly hitting cans each time, none of them fell.
“Tough luck, kid,” the booth attendant simpered, sliding the used beanbags to the side with his foot. “Want to try again?”
“Jungkook,” you tried, but he wasn’t really paying you any attention, already reaching for his wallet again.
“That was just a practice round,” you heard him mutter. “I get how it works now.”
You rubbed your temples. Oh lord, here we go.
That next round didn’t end up going much differently, nor the one after that. It got to the point where it physically pained you to stand there and watch that man essentially throw his money to the wind. You reached over to put a hand on his arm, hoping to stop the madness. “Jungkookie, let’s just go, it’s not even that serious.”
“No,” he huffed, cheeks slightly pink with irritation. “I should have won that one. This thing is rigged!”
You sent him a flat stare. “Um, yeah? Of course it’s rigged! The owner has literally been over there rubbing his hands like Birdman since we walked up!”
His jaw clenched, unwilling to listen to reason. “Well, I’m still gonna win.”
“And waste all your money on something we can likely get for five bucks at Family Dollar?” you asked incredulously.
He let out a long sigh, finally turning his whole body towards you to give you his full attention. His lips twitched in amusement, betraying his mock irritation. “Listen. You have been making comments all weekend about how I’m a bad date. All I’m trying to do is make sure you leave me a decent Yelp review.”
You swallowed your laugh, making a show of looking heavenward, but fully aware that you were fighting a losing battle. He was simply too competitive to let this go—but maybe you could still lessen everyone’s suffering though. “Fine! But I already told you I don’t want that.”
“And what is it that you want, _____?”
It was a simple question, but it still managed to throw you, heart stuttering a bit at the unexpected weight you thought you heard in it, despite his playful tone. You watched his tongue roll in his cheek as he considered you. It was sexy. You were irritated that it was sexy.
Welp. Looked like you had had enough sun for the day. Time to cut this expedition short.
You cleared your throat, looking away to quickly scan over the available prizes. “I want a keychain. The one on my keys fell off, so I need a new one.”  
A keychain required significantly less points than the prize he had been aiming for—and just so happened to be able to be bought with the points he had already earned. Were you wily or what?
The look he gave you told you that he had not been outsmarted. “What kind?” he asked, conceding anyway.
“Surprise me.”
He pulled the tickets he had been hoarding out of his pocket, taking a few moments to peruse his options. Not long after, a shiny new keychain was dropped into your palm, his choice making you snort out a laugh.
“Thank you,” you told him sincerely, admiring your new Charmander. “I’ll take good care of him.”
“You better. I’m trusting you.”
“I’ll protect him with my life,” you promised dramatically. There was a stupid grin stretching across his face, and it pulled a responding one from you against your will. You turned away from him, trying to calm the sudden fluttering in your gut. “Now. Somebody please tell me it’s dinnertime. If it’s not, I don’t know if I can stop myself from walking back to the food section and deepthroating five overpriced corndogs.”
Jungkook perked up with interest. “Deepthroating, you say?”
“Kid, I know that sounds like it would be a sexy experience,” Namjoon cut in. There was a haunted look in his eye. “But trust me, it’s not. It’s really not.”
“Corndogs do sound good though,” Lisa replied dreamily as the four of you started walking back to the hotel. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Namjoon smirking at your brand new keychain, but you pretended you didn’t.
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A day out and about in the sun left you feeling a bit icky, so, since there was still a little bit of time left before dinner when the four of you made it back to the hotel, you headed upstairs to shower. The others continued on to the outdoor patio to relax and mingle with the rest of the group. By the time you made it back down, the catering company was just finishing to set out the food and the wafting aroma of smoked meat had your mouth watering. Barbecue. Fuck yeah.
There had been a good amount of food ordered—rib tips, hamburgers, hot dogs, the works—and yet when Beta Tau and their plus ones were through with it, all that was left was a couple scoops of the sad excuse for coleslaw. And as soon as bellies were properly full, it was once again time to rally and fully enjoy your final night of the trip.
Once the sun went down, the fire pit was lit —the perfect ambience for the chatting, drinking, and smoking that quickly followed. You and your friends relaxed around the fire, the smoke warding off any possible mosquitos. It was a beautiful night, the sky clear enough to showcase an impressive amount of stars blanketing the moon. Still, the lakefront breeze was a little chilly, and you found yourself trying to ward it off by subtly scooting closer to Jungkook. And though he was generally not the most observant—especially when under the influence—he somehow caught on quickly to your leeching of his body heat.
“Here,” he murmured, an arm circling your waist and pulling you more securely into his side. “Is that better?”
“Yeah,” you breathed, already mellowed by the few hits you had taken of the joint Hoseok was passing around.
Jungkook was mellow too, eyes glazed and lips tugging in a lazy smile as you looked at each other, the moment stretching and stretching until it was finally broken by Seokjin inexplicably screeching about El Chupacabra.
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It had been an eventful two days, but despite how much fun everyone had, it was clear that fatigue was starting to set in by the way people steadily started to trickle back to their rooms over the next couple hours. By the time you and Jungkook decided to call it quits, the group around the fire pit was significantly smaller, even Namjoon and Lisa having already retired for the night.
The two of you headed back upstairs in comfortable silence, a rogue yawn from you triggering one from him. You used the keycard to unlock the door, and, barely two steps into your room, Jungkook took the opportunity to pull his shirt over his head by the nape. Your foggy brain had a hard time remembering that you weren’t supposed to be staring at the oddly beautiful slope of his collarbone, so it took a few moments for you to stop, actively turning your attention towards kicking off your shoes.
There was a definite sense of deja vu as you moved past him to pull your pajamas out of your bag. But there was also a sure difference from the night before.
This time, there was no growing sense of panic in your gut as you changed. You weren’t sure if it was the weed or if you were simply becoming more comfortable with your situation or if it was a mixture of the two. But when you exited the bathroom to retrieve your toiletry bag and Jungkook trailed you back inside with his own toothbrush, you only quirked an amused eyebrow at him. It was almost domestic the way the two of you got ready for bed, brushing your teeth side by side and silently sharing the sink. He exited before you, giving you room to wash your face, and when your nighttime routine was finally complete, he was already in bed, the glow of the television the only light in the room.
“Look, noona,” he said happily as you crawled into your designated side of the bed. A laugh bubbled from your lips once you realized what he was watching. “They’re in Raleigh.”
Ultimately, Jungkook had been right about it being a good bedtime show. You were asleep before you could even find out which house they picked.
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In all honesty, it was starting to become reasonable to question whether you had somehow been transported to your own fratty version of Groundhog’s Day.
One minute you were knocked out, blissfully dead to the world, and then the next your eyes were sleepily fluttering open, slowly scanning your surroundings and trying to figure out what had awakened you in the first place. Where the hell were you...? Oh. Oh! Yes. You were in a hotel room, at the BTS Formal. With… Jungkook. Yeah, yeah that’s right. And speaking of Jungkook—
The hot puff of air against the back of your neck confirmed your suspicions. Ah, so that was why you were awake. Somehow, despite properly falling asleep on your respective sides of the bed, the two of you had once again gravitated towards each other.
Just like the morning before, Jungkook’s arm was slung heavily over your waist, his front slotted against your back. An inquisitive shift of your hips confirmed that that was the same, too. Yes, he most definitely was hard, and yes, his dick was trying to wish your ass good morning.
Everything was the same, and the skittish heat that slowly simmered low in your belly was no exception.
But it didn’t take long for you to realize just how wrong your assessment of the situation was. Because something was most definitely different this time. This time, your cursory wiggle backwards had resulted in a sharp, audible intake of breath.
You paused, suddenly more lucid.
Was he…?
Brow furrowed, you cautiously pushed your ass backwards again. The immediate way Jungkook hissed through his teeth only confirmed it, and a reflexive gasp escaped you before you could catch it. Adrenaline flooded your bloodstream.
He was most definitely awake.
He was awake, and you just gave away that so were you. You both knew you both were awake.
There was a solid minute where neither of you said anything, neither of you moved. Where you just lay there, wide awake, his cock still pressed surely against you and your heart pounding in your ears. His arm still around you, his breath still shuddering against your skin. A solid minute in that limbo, where your mind whirred through your options.
But you weren’t exactly sure what came over you then. Weren’t exactly sure how the part of you that was whispering its curiosity managed to intrigue the other parts, managed to stop your rapid-fire brainstorming of escape routes. Managed to make you tentatively—but surely—push your hips back again.
For a moment, everything was still, panic prickling across your skin, positive that you had read the situation wrong. That you had just made a stupid, stupid mistake. But you still found yourself doubling down, still found yourself swiveling your ass into him again.
And then, with a harsh exhale, Jungkook was pushing forward.
There had been stillness, and now there was everything but. Now, the unspoken hesitance hovering between you was rapidly melting away, your slow grind becoming more and more purposeful. Jungkook’s eagerness was noticeable, a hand gripping your hip so he could press into you more solidly. You started to pant against the delicious pressure, and you could feel him panting too, breath hot against the back of your neck.
Breath hot, until it was replaced with his lips, ghosting teasingly over your skin. A testing press of them elicited a whimper from you, and, at the sound, they became more sure in their adorning, setting your whole body on fire.
“Shit,” you breathed, eyes fluttering at a tongue dragging along your pulse point. At the continuous roll of his dick. Jungkook hummed, but didn’t stop his ministrations, only faltering a bit in his task when your hand reached back to curl into his hair from behind, silently urging him closer to you.
You were wet. You were wet and it was becoming increasingly hard to ignore, your flimsy sleep shorts gliding against your netherlips so easily that there had to be a stain there. You wouldn’t be surprised if he could feel it through his own pants, if you were starting to stain him as well.
And, apparently on the same wavelength as you, Jungkook finally spoke his first words of the day. “So wet,” he murmured, voice gravelly with sleep and lust. “Wanna feel.”
“Then feel,” you urged immediately, any and all hesitance long evaporated.
He didn’t need to be told twice. The hand at your hip drifted inward, fingers lightly brushing against the sticky material. He groaned immediately, and so did you.
But it was not enough.
“Feel,” you insisted, a hand reaching down to cover his and press him harder into you. You noticeably shuddered at the added stimulation, eyes threatening to roll back into your head.
“Fuck,” he moaned, quickly grabbing your thigh and hooking your leg over his. Opening you up, creating more space for his hard, clothed cock to grind against you. Creating more room for his hand to breach the waistband of your pants. The first brush of him lit you alight, your body buzzing with anticipation as you started to realize that being able to properly feel your slick without the hindrance of a barrier only seemed to work Jungkook up more. “Fuck, baby, you’re dripping. This all for me?”
You were nodding, too horny to be anything but pliant and agreeable. “Of course, baby. Only for you.”
A growl settled low in his throat and he rutted harder against you in response, two fingers straying further down and easily sinking into your hot cunt to the second knuckle. You jolted in his hold, a startled gasp escaping you at being filled so suddenly. The feeling was a little intense but it didn’t hurt, especially when he started stroking your walls, coaxing you to relax by returning his attention to your neck. “I’ve been dreaming about this pussy,” he mouthed darkly into your skin. His fingers withdrew from you slightly, then slowly started pumping, hitting deeper and deeper each time. “Fucking knew I could get you nice and sloppy for me. Couldn’t fucking wait to feel properly.”
Properly? Was he alluding to that one time in class? Your thoughts flitted to his hand on your thigh, to the shape of his profile in the darkened lecture hall. Had he really been thinking about fucking you since then? Or even before?
Jungkook continued to scissor you open, making it harder and harder to focus on anything other than the way he was massaging stars behind your eyelids. When he shifted out of your hold, your mouth immediately opened in protest, but you shut it again when you realized he was merely moving so he could hover over you better and see your face. His lips trailed along your jaw, his intent obvious when you recognized his path.
“Wait,” you breathed, trying to turn your head away. “Wait, I have morning breath.”
“I don’t care,” he scoffed, chasing after your mouth. Apparently, he was also too impatient to care if you cared about morning breath. But you found yourself endeared by how pouty he was getting, so you decided to let him have this one, allowing his lips to finally land. The kiss was chaste for approximately two seconds before he swiped a hot tongue across your lips. You rapidly realized that you were on-board with this plan.
This was different from the last time you kissed. That time, in the dark hallway of a bar, the energy between the two of you had been impatient, frenzied. Hungry, insatiable. While you certainly were starting to feel urgency rush through your veins as his hand continued to slowly fuck you open, his palm grinding against your clit with every movement, Jungkook didn’t seem to. No, Jungkook kissed you as if he had all the time in the world—tongue leading yours in a slow dance. Lightly nibbling on your bottom lip, then sucking it into his mouth before releasing it again. And his worshiping was very sweet, in theory.
But in practice? While he was simultaneously giving your g-spot just enough stimulation that you knew he was aware that he had found it, but not enough to do anything other than make you squirm in frustration?  
It was akin to torture.
“Jungkook,” you gasped, officially done with his teasing. “Condom.”
He paused in his ministrations, pulling back enough that you could study his face as he hovered over you. His dark hair was well and truly mussed—first by his pillow, then by you—and his lips were starting to become puffy and red from use. He already looked fucked out, and you hadn’t even made it past second base yet.
“Condom,” you repeated at the dazed look on his face, and you saw the exact moment your words clicked and the lightbulb turned on. The warmth of his body was yanked away from you as he scrabbled to find his wallet, fingers leaving you with an audible squelch.
It didn’t take him very long to procure a foil packet and make his way back to bed, kicking off his pajama pants as he went. And oh. There was his dick, smacking his abdomen as it sprung free of its confines. Long and pretty and already starting to leak for you. You couldn’t help but stare, clenching at the sight.
This was happening. This was actually going to happen. Holy fuck.
Jungkook noticed the staring and preened under the attention. “See something you like?” he asked cockily, waggling his eyebrows and exaggeratedly flexing his muscles like he was in the running for Mr. Universe.
You burst out laughing at the ridiculous display. “You are so stupid,” you replied, tone laced with affection. You pulled your shirt over your head, unhooked your bra. Pointedly tossed them both on the floor. “Come here.”
The dumb grin on his face dimmed a bit, the look in his eye replaced with something much more shadowed when he remembered the matter at hand. Even though you were the one who had asked for it, it almost felt like he was a predator stalking his next meal as he slowly approached the bed and climbed back on. Unconsciously, you clutched the comforter closer, but he easily pulled it away with a gentle tug, revealing your form to his dark, ravenous eyes. When he crawled on top of you, caging you in with his body, you were no longer laughing.
He recaptured your lips with his own, pushing into the space your parted thighs reflexively made for him. And this time, his kiss was blazing. Fierce with promise and intent as his bare cock rocked against you, grinding into the sticky fabric of your clothed center. The slightly more direct contact had you panting, fingers winding into his hair and tugging, pulling a whimper from him.  
Breathing hard, Jungkook leaned away from you just far enough to hook fingers beneath the waistband of your shorts and yank them down, clearly no longer in the mood to play games. Which was perfectly fine with you—you lifted your hips to help him, shimmying out of your panties too. He guided your knees apart, eyes all pupil as they feasted on the treasure in between.
“Look at how messy you are,” he groaned, reaching in to smear your essence around again. Your breath caught when he started circling your clit, only making you leak even more. “This pussy is just begging for a good pounding. Just asking me to stuff it with cock. Is that what you want? Want me to stuff you nice and full, baby?”
God, this should be embarrassing. He was absolutely right—you hadn’t been properly touched in who even remembered how long, and your vagina was being a very vocal slut about it. The filth leaving his lips certainly didn’t help any.
“Answer me,” Jungkook murmured, pausing in his petting to look you right in the eye.
This should be embarrassing but…
“Stuff me until I can’t breathe.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulled him onto you, chest to chest. Started to trace his collarbone with your tongue. “Wanna feel you everywhere.”
“Fuck,” he swore, pulling away again. You started to protest creating any distance between your bodies, but when you saw him fumbling to open the condom, you bit your lip and let him go. He slid the rubber on with shaky hands. “Gonna fill you up so fucking good. Fuck.”
“Can I be on top?” you asked breathlessly.
He immediately scrambled off you to give you room to move. “Fuck yeah, you can. Gonna ride me, baby?”
You answered him by pushing on his chest and he went willingly, flopping onto his back and looking up at you expectantly.
He was beautiful. Beautiful in the way his dark hair fanned across the pillow, the way sweat beaded his brow, the way his toned chest heaved in excitement, the way both his manhood and his mouth begged to be inside you. The way he looked at you like there was no doubt in his mind that you were the beautiful one.
The way he made you feel that way, too.
You distractedly wet your lips, thinking over your options. His cock was standing tall, the head almost purple in its need for you, and you idly pondered the weight of it on your tongue. However, you quickly dismissed that idea. You could revisit that curiosity at another time—at this point, you honestly weren’t sure you could bear waiting another second.
You moved to straddle Jungkook’s hips, hovering over him.
“Hop on,” he said throatily. “Please remember to fasten your seatbelt and for your safety keep all items stowed beneath the seat in front of you until after takeoff.”
You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you. “Oh my god, you are so annoying! Do you want to fuck me or not?”
The way your hand finally wrapped around his length had him bucking into the touch. “I’ll be quiet, I’ll be quiet, I promise!”
“Good.” Your smirk quickly fell away when you rocked into him, sliding him along your slit a few times and coating him in your arousal. Then, finally, you adjusted the angle of him and started to drop down.  
You had been right in your thinking. It had been a while since you had been properly intimate with anyone, and even after Jungkook’s careful fingering, you were still pretty tight, wincing a bit at the pinch as you slowly inched your way down his length. For his part, Jungkook was clenching his jaw, fisting the sheets in an effort not to rush you. You both let out sighs of relief when you were finally fully seated, pelvises flush.
“You okay?” he asked, voice strained at the way your walls trembled around him.
“Mmmm. Just give me a minute.” Hoping to distract you both, you leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his sternum, delighting in his immediate shaky intake of breath. “What’s the matter? Sensitive here?”
“No.” He bit his lip.
“Are you sure?” you goaded, giving your hips a test swirl. Yes, that was good. That was really good.
“Yes,” he breathed, hips jumping a bit at your slow grinding.
“What about here?” You placed another kiss on a pebbled nipple, intrigued when you heard him swallow a moan. Emboldened, you circled it with your tongue, scratched it lightly with your teeth. Jungkook whined, and the sound shot straight to your clit. Fuck, was that hot.
Your teasing mood disappeared, your need to get off building so rapidly that you leaned back so you could pound on his cock more easily, eyes rolling at the delicious way he was fucking you open. Jungkook was more than happy to watch you, hands smoothing up your hips. Gaze drifting from the blissed-out look on your face to your bouncing tits.
To the hand you trailed down your stomach, two practiced fingers swirling hard figure-eights over your clit.
“Jesus fuck,” he hissed, sitting up so quickly that you were startled, hands flying reflexively to clutch his shoulders in an effort not to lose your balance. You looked at him in confusion, but he only rolled you onto your back, trapping you under him. He slid out of you, leaving you feeling depressingly empty.
“Now I’m the one who needs a minute,” he huffed, running an irritated hand through his sweaty hair. Before you could ask him to clarify, he was scooting down and licking a solid stripe across your folds.
You reflexively jerked towards his face, disoriented. “W-What—”
“I’m gonna need you to cum for me baby.” Two fingers entered you again, this time hooking towards your pelvic bone with purpose.
“Can you do that for me, sweetheart?” he crooned, fingers still pumping with scary precision. Your thighs were shaking, breath getting caught in your throat. “Can you cum all over my face?”
“I…I..Ohhh godddd,” you moaned, all thought out the window when he started sucking on your sensitive bud. You tugged on his hair, alarmed at the speed he was unraveling you, and he merely hummed in response. “Fuckkkk, fuck fuck fuck—”
“That’s it, come on—”
For a moment, you were filled with a sense of complete calm. It was like you were standing on a beach, staring down a tsunami that was moments away from crashing down on you, and there was a sort of comfort in the certainty that there was nothing you could do to stop it. Could only hope to survive going under. For a moment, everything was still.
And then it wasn’t. You let out a groan, low and primal, back arching and your thighs snapping around Jungkook’s head. Despite the way your pussy was trying to suck his fingers deep inside, he didn’t stop, intent on helping you ride out the wave. It was only when you slumped back into the mattress that he pulled his mouth away from you with a pop.    
“What…” You struggled to catch your breath, spots still dancing across your vision. “What was that for?”
Jungkook was breathing heavily too, face flushed and lips wet with remnants of you. “Because I wanted to,” he said, voice strained. “And because honestly? I am not going to last much longer. I’ve wanted this so bad, you have no idea how bad I’ve wanted this, I don’t think I can hold back anymore—”
You were worn out, completely content. But listening to his desperate babbling only stoked the fire of your desire before it could even think of petering out. “Then don’t,” you answered simply.
The look of utter relief that took over his expression almost made you laugh, but you managed to hold it in. “Oh thank god,” he groaned, reaching over to turn you on your side. You went willingly, shooting him a curious look, but Jungkook only continued to position you to his liking, pushing your leg up enough to give him access to your cunt. “I promise you I’ll make it up to you later, okay?”
“It’s okay, baby,” you smiled. “I got what I wanted, so it’s your turn. Go ahea—”
The rest of your sentence was lost when he slammed into you, the position shallowing your passage and only making him feel even bigger. Stuffing you full, indeed.
He gave a few frantic pumps before reaching up to grab a handful of your side. 
“J-Jungk-kook, what—”
“I told you,” he growled, fingers digging more securely into the softness of you. “Leverage.” And he proceeded to use said leverage to yank you onto his cock, forcing you to meet the near-brutal force of his thrusts.
This was nothing like the slow, sensual way he had been touching you before. The way the headboard was thumping against the wall, ensuring that whoever was trying to sleep on the other side knew exactly what the two of you were up to, if they hadn’t already? The way he was moving you over his cock exactly how he liked, making you take it? No, this was much more primal, more feral. He was purely acting on instinct now, completely focused on finally being able to cross the finish line.
You were starting to understand the rumors that were floating around about him. Sex god, Mina had told you, and from the way you couldn’t stop noises from leaving your mouth, too overwhelmed by all the sensations, you would say that wasn’t too much of a reach.
In his trance, Jungkook’s eyes briefly flicked up to your face at the noise, but his attention truly lie elsewhere. Brow furrowed, intensely focused on the sight of himself disappearing within you, of the way your ass rippled with his force.
In the end, he had been right—he didn’t last that long. Jungkook came with a particularly hard thrust, moaning as he ground his pelvis against your ass to ride it out. You blinked when he slumped against you, dazedly watching the way the curtains ruffled as the air conditioning turned on. Still in disbelief that this all had actually happened.
Sluggishly, Jungkook relaxed his hold on you, slipped out of your velvet heat. Your eyes met, and for a few moments, you did nothing more than look at each other in silence. Then, he started giggling, a smile overtaking his face that you couldn’t help but match.
“The hell are you laughing about,” you teased, sitting up a bit.
“I win.”
Your head tilted, smile faltering a bit in your confusion. “What?”
He leaned over to peck you on the lips, and you received the kiss easily. “I win,” he repeated with a wink. When he could see you still had no idea what he was talking about, he elaborated. “You said you’d never sleep with me, remember?” he asked cockily. “That you were different from other girls. You said that, and yet here you are, just like all the other girls. Looks like I win, sweetheart.”
It felt as if someone had dumped a bucket of cold water on you, a chill running through your whole body as you froze, rendered mute. Because he was absolutely right. You were just like those other girls.
You had known his game, had been a more-than-willing participant in it for your own amusement. But somewhere along the way you had allowed yourself to forget the true purpose of his advances, allowed yourself to think for even one second that maybe, just maybe—
“Yes,” you croaked, feeling distinctly hollow as he gave your ass a victory swat and clambered away from you, leaving your skin cold. “You win.”
How many times were you going to fall into the same trap? First Jimin, now Jungkook—
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
He was still chuckling as he stood to toss the condom in the trash, completely oblivious to the way you were rapidly crumbling. The strong muscles of his back flexed as he paused to stretch. “This weekend is officially a success,” he continued on his way to the bathroom. “My head is fucking killing me, though. Need some breakfast.”
The door shut behind him, and for a few seconds you just sat on the edge of the bed in silence, shame and disgust creeping up your throat. You just couldn’t believe you had actually fallen for it.
Humiliated, you rushed out of bed, throwing on your clothes from yesterday and stuffing whatever stray items of yours you saw laying around back into your bag. Your toiletries were still in the bathroom, but you could buy a new toothbrush later. You needed to leave. Now.
You made it all the way to the lobby before you felt your phone vibrate in your hand, and it was only habit that had you looking at the screen, though you immediately regretted it.
Jeon 😒
Text message (now)
You stuffed it into your pocket, ignoring the insistent burning behind your eyes.
It turned out your hunch had been right—though 90% of your party was likely still upstairs, sleeping off their bad decisions from the night before, Kim Seokjin was already down here with you, getting a head start on the buffet line.
“Hey Seokjin.” Your voice came out a little croaky, so you cleared it and tried again. “Can I borrow your car?”
“What?” He was standing in front of the hash browns, understandably confused at your sudden appearance and bizarre request.
“Can I borrow your car?” you repeated, throwing him a smile that didn’t quite feel right. You hoped it still came across as authentic. “I’ll give you gas money and everything.”
Seokjin frowned. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” you tried to reassure him, but your voice sounded too high even to your ears. “I just have to leave, so. May I please borrow your car?”
But you didn’t get the response you were hoping for. His eyes simply kept roving your face for the answers you wouldn’t give him, his expression slowly hardening the longer he looked. “_____,” he said softly. “Are you okay? Did he do something?”
Frustration started to build in your chest. He was asking you too many questions. Why was he asking you so many goddamn questions?! “Jin, he didn’t do anything wrong. I promise, okay? And I’ll be fine, I just—I just have to get out of here. I don’t want to talk about it, I just—I have to get out of here. Okay?”
Seokjin bit his lip, clearly struggling not to grill you more. He sighed, eyes soft with worry. “Yeah, of course. Give me twenty minutes and we can go—”
You felt your phone vibrate again and you ignored it. “No. No, I just—I need to be alone right now.”
“_____, I don’t know what’s going on, but I really feel like that’s not a good idea.” He was the one sounding frustrated now. “If not me, what about Namjoon? Do you want me to get Namjoon?”
You rapidly shook your head. This was a mistake. You weren’t strong enough to sit through that bus ride, but you shouldn’t have involved Seokjin. You should have just walked out the door—should have gotten a head start before people started realizing you were gone. “You know what? I shouldn’t have bothered you. I’m just gonna call an Uber—”
“Don’t be stupid. It’s a two-hour drive.” He let out a long exhale, clearly upset that you had backed him into a corner. He reached into his pocket and handed you his keys, hand wrapping around your wrist before you could sprint away. He forced you to meet his gaze. “Just—” He sighed again. “Just be safe, okay?”
“Okay,” you replied, voice too small.
Seokjin held your stare for a long second, then nodded, letting you go. You turned and left immediately, not wanting to give him the opportunity to change his mind.
It was only when you were sitting in the car alone, filling up the tank at the gas station a mile down the road, that the rising panic waned and a bit of clarity returned to you. You should answer him. See what he wanted, buy a little more time.
[09:25] jeon 😒 Hey, where did you go? I’m ready to make it up to you 😉
[09:27] jeon 😒 Seriously did u go down to breakfast without me? Come backkkkkk
[09:39] Sorry. Didn’t feel well, so I decided to go home
The dreaded three dots popped up immediately, and you swallowed down the lump in your throat.
[09:39] jeon 😒 What? babe, are you okay?
The gas pump clicked. You got out and finished the transaction, but when you returned, you still chose not to answer him, putting on your seatbelt and putting the car in drive.
He allowed you to have five minutes of peace before he started calling you, interrupting the GPS lady’s pleasant directions to the highway. You hit the ignore button, sending him straight to voicemail, but after that, between texts and calls, your phone just wouldn’t rest. Jungkook, Namjoon, Jungkook, Namjoon. Frustration burned through you, a text lighting up your screen just as you finally set the damned thing to do not disturb.
You welcomed the silence that followed, enjoying the monotony of highway driving. When your thoughts started to get too loud, you turned on some random Top 40 playlist to drown them out. And two hours later you were finally home, dropping your bag at the door and taking a shower so long and hot that the water ended up running cold on you.  
Mina wandered out of her bedroom not too long after, surprised to find your bedroom light on. “You’re home early!” you heard her greet you from the hall. She poked her head in to say hi properly and immediately paused at the sight of you, crosslegged in your pajamas, working your way through a whole pack of Hawaiian rolls. “Damn, what’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing,” you moped. She looked at you pointedly, and you slowly lifted a roll in her direction. “…What? Do you want one?”
“What is it this time,” she asked flatly. “Let me guess. Accidentally walked in on him putting a finger up his ass?”
It was a testament to your mood that you didn’t even crack a smile. “I fucked him,” you admitted quietly.
“Oh.” Mina’s eyebrows jumped to her hairline. “And?”
“And…” You looked away. Swallowed. “And now I’m just another notch on his bedpost.”
Your lip trembled against your will and Mina sighed, crawling into bed with you wrapping her arms around you. “Oh, sweetie.”
It only made you feel worse, unwanted tears springing to your eyes. “I’m fine,” you sniffed, cursing the fact that you were such an emotional crier.
“You’re not,” she replied gently. “And that’s okay, _____.”
The two of you sat like that for a while, Mina rubbing comforting circles into your back. Unfortunately, it would take more than that to comfort you.
“I like him,” you mumbled into her shirt. “A lot. Fuck.”
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jungkxook · 11 months ago
—stay. (m)
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⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader
⟶ genre: popstar!jungkook x groupie!reader + smut / sprinkle of angst and fluff
⟶ words: 8,083
⟶ rating: 18+
⟶ summary: jungkook wasn’t always so madly in love with you but the fact that you’re sleeping with two of his band mates too makes things a tad bit complicated.
⟶ warnings: multiple smut scenes, slight dom themes, oral sex, finger sucking oops, boob fondling, hair pulling ft. jungkook’s undercut, doggy style, missionary, thigh riding, spitting, jealous kook!!, unprotected sex, kind of slight possessive themes? but also just general sweetness tbh 
⟶ disclaimer: my time jungkook still has me in my feels! also, this is a repost of an old fic on an old blog.
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“Stay with me?”
Jungkook asks this hopefully, of course, but he already knows the answer. It’s just that, lying there with you on the hotel room bed, there’s no other place he’d rather be ━ and there’s no one else he’d rather experience the moment with than you. Legs tangled together on top of the duvet with your fingers tracing circles onto his bare chest, Jungkook swears he’s in love with you ━ only, you’re not his to have. 
“I have to go,” You pout, though your fingers continue drawing constellations on his skin, treading down his arm and over the tattoos that adorn him. You’re focusing now on the lily on his forearm, around and around, sending his head spiralling. “Promised my friends we could hang out today. Besides, don’t you have Mina or Nina━” You wave your hand in the air to dismiss the thought━ “coming over soon?”
“Who?” It takes him a moment to even remember who you’re talking about. Truthfully, he hasn’t seen that girl in well over six months but he’d never tell you that. In fact, he hasn’t been seeing anyone else other than you but he would definitely never tell you that. “Oh, yeah. Well, I think she’s coming over later tonight.”
“Well━” You trail off, and Jungkook knows it’s because you’re stalling. You want to stay, and he knows it well enough, but every question you ask him is just meant to further reassure you that it’s okay if you stay. That he wants you to. “Aren’t you busy with work today before the second show?”
Jungkook shrugs. “We still have lots of time before the day starts.”
You shake your head at him but he knows he ultimately wins out when you start to smile to yourself. You prop yourself up beside him and he has to admire momentarily how you’ve never been timid in front of him when you’re naked. His hand reaches out to brush his fingers against your cheek and you smile down at him. But then something seems to dawn on him that he can’t believe he foolishly hadn’t thought of first. 
“Unless… Unless you need to see one of them soon.”
“Taehyung or Namjoon.” It takes all he can muster to say their names without a trace of bitterness. He lifts himself up on his elbow. “Are you still seeing them?”
You shrug innocently. Sitting up a little straighter, you brush his hand away and fidget with your hair. “Would it matter if I was?”
Yes, he wants to scream but he refrains. “No. I just━” he stops. “Just curious. Is that what you meant by work then? You have to go see Tae or something right after me? ”
“No, you prick.” He’s relieved you giggle at him, fingers poking at his chest despite the fact that he was mentally cursing himself for being a dick the minute the words left his mouth. “Believe it or not, I do have a life outside of sex. Friends, too.”
“I know, I know,” he says sheepishly. “Sorry, I━ I know. You said you wanted to go shopping downtown before the show tonight, right? One of your friends ━ Dahyun ━ goes to school in the next city over and she’s taking the day off to see you. I do listen when you talk, y’know?”
He doesn’t miss the warm smile that spreads across your face. You finally return to him, kissing him slow and steadily. In the meantime, he flips you over onto your back and then parts from you much to your dismay. He’s nestled himself between your legs in an instant, kissing up your thigh and sending shivers down your spin. Your hand flies down to twine your fingers in his hair, now much longer than usual.
“I guess I could stay a little longer, if you’d want me to,” You say. 
“I do.”
He wastes no time in swiping his tongue at your folds, his mouth wrapping perfectly around you. You’re already mewling with delight. That’s all it ever is with the two of you. Sex and more sex. And while Jungkook isn’t complaining, he sure does wish he could just have more of you. Jungkook burrows a little deeper, his nose rubbing against your clit as he eats you out. 
“Morning sex does sound nice,” You manage to say, breath shaking.
“Yeah,” he rasps against you. “It does, doesn’t it?”
Your thighs are already threatening to squeeze shut around his head, fingers tightening in their hold. His own hands find purchase on your waist, stretching outward to hold on to you, and nothing can break you both apart. Not even the muffled sound of rapid knocking on the front door of the too grand hotel room. At least, not the first two times. On the third time when it’s followed by the sound of Jungkook’s manager irritably calling out through the flimsy wood panel, does Jungkook groan into your cunt and poke his head upward, craning his neck to look over his shoulder as his manager’s voice carries infuriatingly loudly to you both once again. 
“Get up already, will you? We’ve got several business meetings to conduct today and we haven’t got time for you to sleep off a hangover or whatever it is you’re doing━”
“Gimme ‘til noon!” Jungkook asserts gruffly. He settles himself back between your thighs, and you surely don’t miss the devious way he smirks just before burrowing his head into your heat. There’s an inaudible sound that he makes, that you and certainly his manager can distinguish as being, “I’m too busy right now.”
Busy is an understatement, pointedly made clear when his tongue delves into you, lapping at your leaking wetness as if he were terribly quenched and only you could save him. You don’t think Jungkook taking his morning to eat you out is a good enough excuse that will run over well with his manager later in the day, but it drives him away for now with only a grumbled chorus of words left in his wake. But the silence only lasts for so long. Just as Jungkook is getting comfortable once more, you speak up.
“I don’t think tardiness is a very good quality to have as a celebrity,” You ponder aloud through a heavily pleased sigh.
“Ah, or it’s exactly the thing I need,” he counters with a shit-eating grin. “Being late is a very celebrity thing, isn’t it?”
“When the fame gets to their head,” You snort. Your voice splinters off into a whimper as he tilts his chin up a little higher, lapping deeper into you.
“Then I guess I’m bad.” His voice murmurs against you, rattling you to the bone.
“You’re definitely far from bad. Everyone thinks you’re an angel.”
“Wonder if they’d think the same thing if they saw me now━” He pinches lightly at the inside of your thigh, “head between your legs, and you coming on my tongue.”
You roll your eyes, but your wittiness falls short when he tugs with his teeth at your folds. Your back arches off the bed at once, hips pressing harder against his face.
“Namjoon called last night,” You say. No, you don’t say it. You moan it and even though Jungkook knows it’s because of him and how he’s making you feel in that moment, he still hates hearing someone else’s name roll off the tip of your tongue that isn’t his. “If you must know. Said he wanted to see me in the morning━”
Jungkook grimaces. He grunts shortly, “Guess you’re gonna have to let him down.”
“I’m sure Joon will love that━”
“Don’t,” he hisses. He bites down a little harshly on the inside of your thigh but you don’t mind. When he glances up to look at you, his stare is dark and hooded. “Don’t say their names. Not now. Please.”
You almost miss the desperation in his voice, the way he almost whines his words. You don’t ask, even though you’re curious. You don’t ask, even when he eats you out that morning until he’s made sure you’re crying his name and nothing else. You don’t ask, even when fucks you slow and deep and measured and almost, dare you say, loving like he never has before, clinging onto you as if he can’t live without you. You don’t ask, even when he may get a little rough (just how you like it), as if he’s afraid you’ll leave him right then and there. You don’t even ask when he sucks not one but two hickeys on your neck, large enough for anyone to see. For Taehyung and Namjoon to see.
You never really do ask, even though you notice things have become different.
It’s not as if you haven’t always been close to one another. There are more times than not in which you both physically can’t keep your hands off of one another in public, though in the safest and simplest ways possible. It’s there, in the way you sit next to him with your legs crossed regally on the couch in the green room backstage before a set, playing with the rings on his fingers on the hand resting on your shoulder; there, in the way you sit draped across his lap, leaning into his chest, in the studio as they blur through recordings. When you give advice on composing or lyric writing, Jungkook listens. When you giggle into his ear and whisper lewd things when you probably shouldn’t in the middle of a party with important business men and other celebrities, Jungkook is captivated. 
It wasn’t always supposed to be like this. Jungkook wasn’t always so madly in love with you, but he always knew there was something about you he just could not get enough of. You had chosen him first, approaching him late one night at a bar, and he was instantly head-over-heels. Even if it was mutually agreed upon ━ and oftentimes never really outwardly mentioned ━ that you could sleep around with him, Namjoon, and Taehyung, then Jungkook would have to deal with it. He would do anything, if it meant getting to see you more. At first he didn’t even mind. What was one more groupie to the ever growing list he had already accumulated? He’s never gotten feelings for any of them, so surely he thought he would be okay with you; that maybe whatever he was feeling for you would go away. 
He couldn’t have been more wrong.
After he asks you the question the first time, he finds himself stuck in a greedy months-long habit of asking you wistfully every time he finds you in his bed. He asks it a thousand and one times, but only ever gets one response from you. You’ll say no, that you have to leave, and sometimes you will. But sometimes ━ sometimes when he knows he wins out because he knows you let your guard down long enough to become besotted by him, a tangible mess with his every touch ━ you’ll linger just a little longer and the notion alone is enough to instill a sense of hope in Jungkook even if he knows it’s wrong. 
And maybe you shouldn’t play along. Then again, he takes all your time and you devote what little you have left afterward to him anyway, pretending that you’re still seeing Taehyung and Namjoon when you’re certainly not.
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Sometimes Jungkook catches you when he doesn’t mean to, or isn’t expecting to, and it’s all different moments that physically pain him. Sometimes those moments come from paying one of the guys a visit and stumbling upon you there, too. 
After having not seen you for the whole day, and just before the concert begins, Jungkook is called over to Namjoon’s room within the hotel to discuss some last minute changes to the show (which Jungkook’s positive he would have heard about if he hadn’t ignored his manager early in the morning). Only Namjoon doesn’t answer the door when Jungkook arrives. There’s a crescendo of giggling on the other side of the threshold and then it’s you, and you’re standing there wearing nothing but a baggy shirt of Namjoon’s that barely covers your bum (and shorts too, he thinks, but Jungkook’s much too focused now on you in Namjoon’s shirt). Namjoon’s standing a bit further back, leaning against the wall of the hallway without a shirt on and he’s grinning at something that’s just happened. 
“Took you long enough,” Namjoon calls out. “Come in, we’ll get started. I’ll just be right back━ Just hopped out of the shower━” And then he disappears into another room, most likely to find another shirt that isn’t taken by you.
“Jungkook!” You greet him so cheerfully, as if the sight of you half naked in another man’s home isn’t eating away at Jungkook. You pull him into a hug that’s so tight he can smell your familiar perfume and probably Namjoon’s lingering scent if he focuses hard enough. “What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” Jungkook says. He doesn’t mean for his voice to sound so standoffish. He hopes you don’t notice. “You’re back early.”
“Yeah. The girls had to leave but that’s okay.” You’re smiling so bright and wide that it almost hurts. “Namjoon━”
“Wanted to see you?” Jungkook finishes for you, remembering your words earlier in the day. 
“Yeah━” You’re rambling on now but Jungkook isn’t listening. The pain is still lingering and it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. He knows it isn’t right but he can’t be bothered to care. In that moment, he realizes he’d rather be anywhere but there and he’s never felt that way before.
“Uh━ You know what?” He cringes slightly when he interrupts you. “Forgot I had to do something actually. Mina called earlier ━ said she wanted to talk or whatever.”
Your face immediately drops at the mention of the other girl and it pains him even more to know that you don’t see through his blatant lie. What’s worse is that Mina had called him the night before, but he had turned her down promptly before she could even say what she wanted. 
You glance over your shoulder fleetingly as if to look for Namjoon, teeth sinking into the soft flesh of your lower lip. “But I thought you needed to talk with Joon about the show?”
“Can’t, sorry. Tell Namjoon he can do whatever he wants. I don’t care. Seems like he’s got his hands full with you here anyway.”
He hates himself for it ━ he hates how petty he can be, how rude he can sound without truly meaning it ━ but before he can explain himself or apologize in a way that would probably make him look even more like an idiot, he turns his back to you. It’s the first time he’s really ever done something like that. Usually, he puts up with it ━ with you draped over Namjoon’s lap or Taehyung’s hand on your waist because usually he hadn’t always had feelings for you. 
Truth be told, Jungkook doesn’t know how Namjoon or Taehyung feel about “sharing” you. He doesn’t even know how you feel about it or if you’ve noticed Jungkook’s short temper lately. He tries to contain it but he can’t and he hates how he’s become when he’s not alone with you. Lately, he’s started to think that maybe this isn’t right anymore. Maybe he shouldn’t keep meeting up with you if he’s going to feel this way all the time, and it wasn’t fair to you for him to be sulking so much. He’s not supposed to be in love. He’s supposed to be having fun. 
After all, that’s what it was to you, wasn’t it?
But that night something happens.
Jungkook only notices you half an hour into the show later that night even despite the fact that you’re in the same place that you always are, standing on the side in the part of the pit closest to the stage where only family and close friends are allowed to stay. Of course you’re dancing along, just like you always do, and of course you’re watching him and the rest of the boys with starry eyes, just how he loves. You smiled wide at some point when his gaze locked with yours ━ him, drenched in sweat and nearing exhaustion, and you, face-flushed and looking as if you’re having the time of your life.
But that’s the thing about you ━ you’re not like the others. Sure, your eyes tend to drift to him more often than not and linger on him longer than necessary but you don’t just come for him. You live for the music, admire the rest of the boys that have treated him so dearly and make the group what it is. 
And the way he performs ━ you wonder if he purposely exerts himself more because he wants you to only focus on him. Every rough thrust of his hips, every time he grabs at his crotch, dark and hooded eyes meets yours and you know he’s trying to tease you. Trying to make you suffer.
Later, when the concert is finished and you’re at a private room in a club with the boys to celebrate the evening and Jungkook has had one too many shots, he finds you at the bar. He sidles up from behind you, one palm sliding onto the small of your back. You know it’s him even before you look, judging by the familiar stature of his chest pressing against your body, and his usual scent. His lips press to the crook of your neck and your lips unfurl into a smile. You reach up blindly to grab at the nape of his neck as he starts to sway against you to the beat of the music, hips digging into your ass.
“I’ve been dying to be next to you all night.” He whispers this into the shell of your ear and you wonder vaguely how you’ve maintained enough self-control to not drop to your knees and suck him off then and there. Even worse is the fact that he’s still adorned in the makeup from the concert. Your fingers scratch at one of the newly shaved sides of his head, the rest of his long locks only maintain some of its original style pushed back and off his forehead, though now messily mused as it splays out on either side of his head and threatens to hide the undercut once more.
“You’re drunk,” You point out. He doesn’t seem to register the fact that you only point it out because otherwise, if he wasn’t so smashed, you aren’t quite sure he’d even be touching you the way he is now after the way he’s been acting lately.
“So are you,” Jungkook hums. “Let’s get out of here?”
And you can’t possibly say no. 
He thinks it’s a shame, really, because you had looked quite pretty that night wearing a velvet red dress. Because after somehow calling a taxi and stumbling back to his dorm, he gets lost in you for a while and completely ravishes you, impatiently ripping your dress off you and pressing you against the wall, hips eagerly digging into yours until you hook your legs around his hips and he carries you off to bed to finish. 
When you’re spent from your first high, Jungkook moves from your sprawled out positions on the bed and gets up, pulling on a pair of discarded sweatpants from the floor. You watch him as he combs his hair back that’s fallen into his face again, muscles in his biceps rippling as he does so. He reaches for an acoustic guitar in one corner, then sinks onto the edge of the bed. He’s not usually this quiet after a night spent together, though you don’t quite seem to notice, thinking nothing of it as he starts plucking away at the guitar with a melody in mind if only because when he’s frustrated and stuck on a lyric, he usually goes to you in seek of help in terms of finding relief. You get to your knees, crawling over to him so that you can drape your arms around his shoulders from the back.
“That’s pretty,” You sigh dreamily, nodding to the guitar and the lazy strumming he had been doing. In the distance, you realize there’s been music playing faintly the whole time from the dock where his phone is plugged in. You recognize one of the boys’ songs playing, then realize it’s Jungkook’s solo, his own voice singing beautifully back to you. Above all else, you realize all at once that he isn’t really playing anything at all, or brainstorming a new song, but plucking along absentmindedly to the melody of his own song. 
He’s distracted but he tenses at your touch, then relaxes at once, melting instantly against you. “Just messing around,” he sighs.
“Nonsense,” You giggle. He glances over at you just in time to see you reach for his hand, and he watches as you play with the rings on his fingers. “There’s magic in these hands. In more ways than one.”
You press a chilling kiss against his palm, and then the tip of each of his fingers. Time seems to slow, and all he can suddenly focus on is you. 
“You’re gonna be the death of me,” His voice has a dull, stubborn whine to it that he can’t shake. “Have I ever told you that?”
“Once or twice,” You smirk. You busy yourself by focusing on lining the bottom of your palm with his, measuring your hand in his. He’s much bigger than you, his fingers nearly towering over yours and they’re always so snug and warm.
“Well, it’s true,” he says. “You’re the kinda girl songs are written about.”
“Unless I’m mistaken,” You say in a matter-of-fact tone, “you have written songs about me.”
He feigns a look of doubt, though a smile threatens to tug at his mouth, especially when you delicately lace your fingers with his one-by-one. “Ah, is that what you think, baby girl? Don’t let the fame get to your head.”
You laugh, dropping your head and leaning your temple against his knuckles in an attempt to hide your sheepish face. With his free hand, he sets his guitar back onto the floor and then unravels his other hand from yours. His palm is calloused and hot as it slides onto your cheek, and you nuzzle into it even despite him guiding your face back up to look at him. He can’t help himself; he leans in to kiss you, biting at your lower lip and earning a delicious moan. As his hands come to grip at your sides just over your ribs and the underside of your breasts do you crawl into his lap to straddle him. For a while, he lets himself get carried away, feeling your hands roam his chest, but then with such vivid intensity, he can only imagine Namjoon and Taehyung in the same position as him and it almost makes him want to vomit. Either that, or it’s the alcohol. Gathering his wits, he shakes his head, pulling apart from you.
“I think I should write━” He fumbles uselessly with his words. “Namjoon’s gonna kill me if I don’t finish these songs━”
You arch your chest against his, warm and soft and palpable, and your hips dig into his a little more roughly, rubbing against his straining erection. You can be heard whining sluggishly as you kiss the underside of his jaw, “But I want you inside me, Kook.”
His breath hitches in his throat, but he can’t think straight anymore. Is the scent he smelling even you anymore, or just a mix of Namjoon and Taehyung? And when you tell him he’s the only one who can ever make you feel the way he does, do you tell that to them too? 
His silence is answer enough, and is what ultimately forces you to look up at him. You’re met with an empty expression, then your own countenance is contorting. You sit back on his lap. 
“I don’t understand you anymore, Jungkook,” You say. There it is, he laments to himself. The familiar pang to his chest, the dreaded realization that maybe he’s fucked this whole thing up forever. “It’s like sometimes you can’t get enough of me, touching me here and there and just before shows when you’re supposed to be on in ten minutes, telling me that no one will care if you’re late. Then sometimes it’s like you won’t even look at me. Like you can’t get me off of you fast enough; like you can’t even touch me anymore.”
Jungkook avoids your stare, which he knows is exactly the sort of thing he shouldn’t do. But you already have your answer. You clamber off of his lap at once to slide back onto the bed and he wants nothing more than to pull you back but he knows he shouldn’t. Now, you seem flustered, or maybe just disheartened. Your arms come to cross over your bare chest, as if to hide yourself.
“You don’t want to touch me anymore,” You say dryly. 
It’s not a question so much as it is a statement. Either way, he shakes his head. Rubbing a tired hand over his face, he mumbles, “Maybe you should go.”
You clamp your mouth shut. “You’re not serious, Jungkook.”
He still doesn’t dare to meet your gaze, his jaw set hard in place. 
“You’re kicking me out? Now? Now?” 
“I’m not. I’m just━ Not in the mood tonight.”
“What a liar,” You gasp. “I had your stupid boner poking my ass the entire time we were at the club, and you sure as hell spent the better part of the night fucking me.”
He can’t quite tell if you’re mad. Your tone dances a fine line between incredulousness and amusement, though he assumes it all boils down to disappointment in the end anyway. You refuse to move, though, pushing yourself onto your knees beside him.
“Tell me the truth, Jungkook,” You plead carefully. “Something’s wrong. Has been for a while, and I want to know what it is.”
He takes a deep breath and finally meets your stare and, god, you look irresistible. Your lips are bruised red from him biting and sucking at them, and your exposed chest is too tempting, beckoning him to touch you. His mind is a whirlwind of emotions ━ plus, he’s just a little bit tipsy, and so he blames it on that for caving into you so easily.
He grimaces. “I’m jealous, all right?” 
You don’t respond at first, and he decides he wants to curl up into a hole and die. Then, you snort, which isn’t exactly the sort of reaction he was expecting to hear from you, and suddenly you don’t seem so angry at him anymore. “I knew that. Was wondering when you’d tell me, though.”
“You what?”
“Well, it’s not that hard to see. You’re always giving Namjoon and Taehyung death glares when I’m around.”
“I didn’t think I was that obvious.” He says this sheepishly, and at least you giggle at him. “I just━ I’m selfish. I want you to myself.”
“I’m not a thing to have,” You retort.
“I know,” he says, and then groans the words again. “Fuck, I know. I’m sorry. I know you’re not a thing to have, and you’re not mine to have but, god, I hate it that they know everything about what it feels like to be with you.”
Gently, he grabs at your waist, tugging you onto his lap, rough hands spreading your thighs to sit perfectly on him once more. Then, with his hands planted on your hips, does he guide you back and forth on him slowly. He reaches out to brush his fingers along your bare arms, then across your collarbones, and down to your breasts. He leans down as if to kiss the valley between them, but his mouth never really does meet your skin; instead, his lips graze faintly against you.
“That they know your body.” He brushes his nose against your chest as he lifts his head. His mouth ghosts across your breasts, almost catching your nipples in his mouth, his breath warm and tingly against the sensitive flesh, just to tease you. His hand follows his lips, grasping firmly at the underside of your breast, his thumb flicking over the perked bud. “Have touched it where I’ve touched it.”
Your own hands flail out to grasp at his shoulders, your breath hitching in your throat. “Why? Why do you hate it so much? That’s all I want to know.”
“Because they don’t even know how lucky they are,” he mutters. “Because you probably do all sorts of things for them and they just think you’re another groupie. Because they aren’t in love with you.”
“You’re in love with me?” Your face is hot now, your body trembling. His hands are still on your chest when he starts kissing your throat. 
“Yeah. I am.”
“What if I told you I’m in love with you too?”
“Well, you are fucking my band mates. I think that makes things a tad bit complicated.”
“You’re such an idiot.” You’re certain if he wasn’t making you feel like heaven in that moment, you would have snapped the words. Instead, you’re already shamelessly grinding your hips against his even without his guidance. “I called it off with them a while ago, actually. They were okay with it, too. Said they felt something was different. You’re the only one in my life, Jungkook.”
Jungkook stops suddenly. He pulls his head back to gawk at you and is greeted to your hooded eyes watching him. “You━ What? What about this morning when you said Namjoon wanted to see you?”
“I lied,” You admit timidly. 
“And when you were in his room━”
“We never did anything,” You promise. “I just wanted to see a reaction from you. Honestly, so did Taehyung and Namjoon. I mean, Namjoon purposely told me to come to his room to see if you’d be jealous. And I think I went along with it because I really just want to know that when you ask me to stay with you, in your bed, do you really mean it? I just…” You trail off, biting at your lower lip, asking him apprehensively, “What about you and that Mina girl?”
“I haven’t seen her or talked to her in months,” he says earnestly.
“Of course not.” You say this in a breathless laughing manner, as if it’s just now dawning on you. Then, you reach up to cradle his head in your hands, grasping at either side of his face. When you speak next, your voice is an ardent whisper. “I want to be with you, Kook. Like really, really be with you. I didn’t know how to tell you because we were so used to just having sex and nothing more and I figured if that’s all I could get with you, then I’d learn to live with it even if it’d kill me to hear you hooking up with other girls.”
Jungkook blinks. He takes a moment to comprehend what’s happening, but then he’s feeling that tension in his chest loosen and he’s just so relieved. 
“There’s only you,” he says. “Has been for a while.”
You smile, so big and soft and pretty, and he kisses you just to bask in the moment. Suddenly, he’s just overwhelmed with love for you and almost doesn’t know what to do with himself. 
“Maybe I should get you jealous more often,” You muse pensively. “It’s kinda hot.”
“It’s mean,” he pouts. Then, his demeanour changes and he’s smirking wolfishly. “Besides, they can’t fuck you like I can, can they?”
“N-No,” You croak feebly. “It’s always been you, Jungkook. Even with them. I’d never tell them but… you’re all I could think about even when I was with them. Imagining you touching me instead of them. Imagining it was you when they laid with me.”
This seems to grab his attention, having him groaning into your neck. “What’d I say? Gonna be the death of me.”
You shiver at the sound of his hoarse voice. You whisper aloud, “The feeling is mutual.”
“I’m sorry I’ve been so stupid lately,” he says. “Let me make it up to you. Do you want that, baby girl? But first you gotta show me you mean it. That you’re mine.”
As he tongues a pattern against your throat, you muster a nod. You wonder if it’s obvious how badly you want him in that moment, with the way your hips continue to grind against his. 
“I want you to fuck yourself on my thigh,” he murmurs against you. “Can you do that for me?”
The thought entices you and has you scrambling to nod your head again. His large hands come to grab at your ass, shifting you until you’re seated on one of his legs. Your eyes never stray from his as you start to grind against his thigh, the rough material of his sweatpants rubbing at your core. Slow and steady, he guides you back and forth, watching as your pretty mouth pops open into a silent gasp.
“That’s it, baby girl,” he coos. “God, you look so pretty. And you’re all mine. Touch yourself for me.”
“Where?” You ask breathlessly.
“All over. Anywhere you want me.”
You whimper at the thought, imagining the feeling of his rough hands on your body. You start at your chest, grasping at your own breasts, squeezing at your perked nipples. You pinch them until they’re hard under your fingertips, kneading the soft flesh of your breasts with your palm as you try to picture Jungkook doing the same. Then, you slide one hand down the front of your stomach, past your navel. He watches as you dip lower and lower before finally reaching between your legs, fingers rubbing small circles against your clit. The mingling feelings of you rutting your hips against his thigh and the way you touch yourself under his burning stare has you writhing on his lap within seconds. 
“Oh, Jungkook━” Your eyes clamp shut, brows knitting in concentration. “Wanna feel you so bad━”
“Uh uh,” he tuts at once. Grabbing at your chin, he yanks your head back up in his direction and taps his thumb against your jaw. “Keep your eyes on me. I want to see how I make you feel.”
“But it feels so good,” You whine. Still, you listen, prying your eyes open just slightly enough to meet his stare again. Now, you’ve started to grind a little harder on him, rubbing at your heat a little faster. “Please, Jungkook━”
“Cum for me first,” he coos, his tone gentle despite his obvious demands. “Then I’ll do whatever you want. You can do that for me, right?”
You muster a nod, eyes threatening to flutter shut again but you refrain. He moves one of his arms to wrap around your waist, his large hard encompassing almost all of your back as he pushes you closer to him and the action alone is enough to make you hum with delight. 
“Tell me what you want me to do to you,” he says. “The things they could never do for you.”
He doesn’t say Taehyung’s or Namjoon’s names for you to understand and, truthfully, you’re glad he doesn’t. Your mind is much too focused on Jungkook to care about anyone else.
“I want you━” You cry out suddenly, biting at your lip. “I want you to touch me, anywhere. I want you to use me, and make me yours. I want you in me. I just need your dick, Jungkook, please. You always make me feel so good. Please, please touch me━”
His jaw sets hard in place as he continues to watch you, fingers itching to please you however which way you want, but he waits. He knows you’re close to your high when you start whimpering and moaning his name, your hand falling from your chest as your other hand rubs harder at your clit the faster you ride his thigh. He flexes his muscle beneath your core, and the simple action is enough to have your head spinning. As you reach your high, his hand that is still wrapped around your chin slides upward and his two forefingers poke into your mouth. Instantly, you’re sucking against them, tongue laving at his digits desperately as you imagine his cock in your mouth, in your cunt, stretching you wide.
“God, you’re such a good girl,” he grunts. “Keep your eyes on me.”
As you unravel in his arms, body twitching into his chest, his arm tightens its hold around your back and envelopes you in his warmth so much to the point where it feels as if you begin to melt against him. You grab at his wrist, pushing his fingers deeper into your mouth until you almost gag, muffled moans meeting his ear as you climax. When you’re spent, your pace on his thigh slows to a steady occasional gyrating of your hips as you suck and lav at his fingertips.
“That’s it, baby girl,” Jungkook hums, his free hand stroking your back as you calm your nerves. When you’ve regained most of your wit, you pop Jungkook’s fingers from your mouth and he takes the liberty of guiding his palm down your chin to your throat to your breasts. “You’re doing so well for me. Bet you never listened as well to them as you do with me. Will you get on your hands and knees for me?”  
You scramble to obey, crawling off his lap and onto all fours on the bed. You crane your neck to watch as he gets to his knees behind you, shoving the material of his sweatpants down to his knees in haste. He’s already impossibly hard, grasped in his knuckles, precum leaking from the head of his dick. He wastes no time in pushing himself into you, and though he’s stretched you wide hours ago, the same feeling of him slipping in snug to your heat does wonders on your body still. 
“Mm, Jungkook!” You cry out as he buries himself balls deep into you, coaxed so easily by your slick arousal. He sputters at the sensation, palms pawing at your navel as he yanks you further down his cock. “F-Fuck━ You feel so good━”
“Show me,” he gasps, pulling his hips out once and rutting into you so vigorously you feel it shudder throughout your whole body. Then, he’s thrusting into you at a rhythmic fast pace that has you clenching so tight around him, his head spins some more. “Let me hear you. I wanna see how I make you feel. Let me see how you belong to me.”
He tugs at your elbows, yanking you up off the bed, and you clumsily follow suit, pressing your back flushed against his chest. 
“I’m all yours, Jungkook,” You whine. “I want you to wreck me so bad. Only you know how to wreck me so bad.”
“Yeah?” he taunts. “Only me? Gonna prove it?”
“Please, Jungkook━ Harder, please━ I’ll do anything you want!”
He quickens his pace and slams his hips up into yours harshly. It has you moaning with delight, nearly slipping from his grasp, but he holds you tighter in place. He reaches round to grab at your chin again, twisting your head in a careful yet prompt manner so that you’re looking over your shoulder at him with your flustered gawking expression.
“Open up.” He taps at your mouth and you do as you’re told. Almost instantly, he pulls your chin closer until your mouth is hovering over his, and spits. It’s a wordless command and gesture, as if to further prompt you to prove your point. You welcome it entirely, swallowing his own saliva completely. What doesn’t make it into your mouth, dribbles down your chin and onto your throat. Then you’re chasing his mouth, hearing him hum approvingly, “That’s it, baby.”
You almost miss his lips the first time from the way he’s being so feral now as his hips continue to slam against yours. You’re fortunate when he guides your chin, still pinched between his fingers, in a much too tender manner for the crude moment that has your heart swooning despite all the hysteria. A hot open-mouthed kiss which is still entirely sloppy as your tongues ravish mid-air, and his teeth nip and suck on your lower lip any chance he can get. 
“Gonna tell them how well I fuck you?” he asks breathlessly. You bite at his lip this time, tugging at it hard. “Let them know you’re all mine? Fuck━”
“Mhm!” You rasp. “Oh, Jungkook━”
By now, his pace is relentless. You threaten to ricochet from his grip with each rut of his hips, knees wobbling beneath you. He hand falls from your chin finally to grab at your breasts, replacing your earlier efforts, pinching at your nipples, squeeze at your soft flesh. He lavs wet kisses along your jawline, your neck, and shoulder. Your own head leans back onto his shoulder, a hand reaching out to grasp at his hair. Your fingers first scratch at the shaved sides, then thread through his hair, yanking at it tightly enough to have him grunting in delight.
“Jungkook, I’m gonna━” You whimper. “I’m gonna━”
But you don’t finish your thought. It doesn’t matter anyway. Jungkook already knows you’re close to your high with the way you start to clench around him. You pull even tighter at his hair, a pleasant burn evoking a hiss from his throat. His hips move even faster than before, desperate to try and carry you to your high. So riddled from your first orgasm not long ago and the one before that, you’re quick to crumble beneath him once more. Twisting and turning, you cry out his name in a repeated mantra, like music to his ears. When the scorching heat between your thighs and blinding your eyes subsides enough for you to be somewhat coherent again, you meekly find your voice.
“Tell me I’m yours,” You beg despairingly, voice barely a ragged panting whisper. The aftershock of your orgasm still shakes through your body that the way you’re clutching at his hair now is only so that you can still have some sort of hold on reality still. “Please, please. Tell me. I wanna be yours so bad. You already have me, just wanna hear it from you. Tell me you want me as much as I want you. Please, Jungkook━”
A nerve flutters in Jungkook’s heart. And his dick. He marvels momentarily at the idea of how he wants to continue to wreck you and simultaneously love you all over and grows impatient. Without warning, and with much difficulty, he pulls out of you. Before you can register what’s happening or miss the warmth of his cock in your heat, he pushes you onto the bed and flips you around so that you’re on your back. Then, hovering over you close enough so that he can hook one of your legs over his shoulder, he pushes himself back into you. 
“You’re all I want,” he says, smoothing his mouth over yours once more. He moans against your lips, then rests his forehead against yours as he squeezes his eyes shut. “God, I’m so fucking in love with you. You make it so hard to think sometimes. Everything about you drives me wild.”
His pace isn’t as harsh as before, though he’s careless as he abandons all form in an attempt to ride out your high and reach his own. Each thrust he makes jolts you back and forth on the bed, the sensitivity between your thighs a mild burn that starts to crescendo as you gasp each time his cock slides back into you. You reach out tiredly to grab at his face with soft motions despite not bothering to move him from where he still rests with his forehead. One large palm of his comes to grasp at your side, pushing you further into the mattress as he hammers into you. 
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum━” He moans. “Gonna let me fill you up, baby? Gonna let me make your cunt mine?”
“Yes, please,” You rasp. “Wanna feel it so bad.”
It’s different this time despite knowing the sensation well enough from all those times before. Every event since then has been a build up to this, and when he finally releases into you, it’s unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. The last few sluggish ruts of his hips make the both of you whimper and whine, mewling with delight the longer he cums in your heat. 
Then, he slumps against your chest and the room falls silent once more safe for the sound of your mingled panting. He burrows his face into the crook of your neck and your fingers rake through his sweaty hair in a soothing manner until that too ceases after a few silent moments. 
“Not falling asleep on me now, are you?” he asks after the thrill of both your highs have subsided. He lifts his head to look at you and finds that you are, in fact, beginning to doze off. 
“No,” You lie. You pry one eye open to look at him as you bite back a sheepish snicker. He pulls out of you at long last, and the lack of warmth has you immediately protesting. You reach out  blindly for him before he can move too far. “Come back here. I want to cuddle you.” Then, letting your surroundings register once more, you realize suddenly that music has still been playing all this time. Most specifically, Jungkook’s solo which has been left on a loop. You meet his curious gaze in the dark and deadpan, “Did you seriously just fuck me to your song?”
“It’s not fucking when we were making love,” he wriggles his brows suggestively. You wonder how he’s always so quick to go from one extreme to the other. Whereas five minutes ago, you wanted nothing more than to have him demolish you with his dick, now he’s just his usual lovable idiotic self that you want to kiss all over. He’s not wrong though, you discern. The song isn’t a bad one either, and the thought of him having sex with you to his own music is undescriably hot anyway. 
“You can’t say you were making love to me when you just took me raw.” Amongst other things, you think to yourself, but you’re certain he’s well aware of that. His snickers warm your heart to no end and you can’t help yourself when you lean forward to kiss him. 
“I can and I will because I love you,” he says proudly. Then, as if tasting the words on his tongue and favouring the sound of it, hums more pensively again, “I love you.”
“I love you too, Jungkook.”
And this time he knows you mean it because, in the morning, when you both wake up feeling sore and marked all over by one another (so that Namjoon and Taehyung can know), you’re still curled up into Jungkook’s chest. You’re half asleep, your nose nuzzling against the crook of his neck and making him smile. You’re only roused awake by the feather-light strokes his fingers make as they rub small circles into your back.
“Stay with me?” Jungkook asks this hopefully, of course, but he already knows the answer. This time, he even knows it’ll be different. 
He sees your sleepy smile widen when he kisses your temple sweetly, and decides quickly that he likes this, right there and now, as it is, and especially when he hears you whisper finally, “There’s no place I’d rather be.”
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venusiangguk · 8 months ago
gold rush | jjk (m)
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>>pairing: jungkook x reader
>>genre: pwp, smut, college au (kinda), established relationship
>>word count: 5k+
>>warnings: oral (m/f), fingering (f), phone sex, normal sex, explicit sex, slapping tits, slapping, crying, degrading, dirty talk, all the sex stuff, jks a lil mean and condescending but it’s very cool and sexy
>>notes: hello! this is my first post on here :) it’s part of a longer scenario i’m just seeing how it’s received before posting the full length version~~
>>summary: jk comes back from a weekend away and he wants to show you just how much he missed you. 
pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3
It’s a Saturday night and you’re laying in your boyfriends dorm room bed by yourself. You’re bored and alone because Jeongguk had an away tournament that was far enough to warrant a hotel for the weekend. Typically you would have tagged along like many of the students at your university, but you had had a test on Friday that you couldn’t miss. Which is why you found yourself wrapped in one of his t shirts, under his blanket scrolling absently through your phone not really paying attention to anything much, just going from app to app.
Due to the lack of anything better to do, you boredly slipped your hand under the waist band of your panties. Not particularly horny... just passing the time you would say. You casually ran your fingertips over your smooth lips before yanking your hand out, being struck with an idea. You quickly type a text to Jeongguk.
you :
i’m touching myself rn
Short sweet and to the point. You nibble on your lip as you see the typing bubble pop up not even 5 seconds after it says ‘delivered’.
koo 🥴:
pics ? 🥺
You roll your eyes. Two years of dating and that’s still how he responds.
you :
no way
wyd rn ??
koo 🥴:
why not
i’m at dinner w my team
jimin and tae say hi
-insert pic-
You smile at the pic your boyfriend took of his friends. You were pretty close to all of the team but more so Taehyung and Jimin, seeing as you and Jeongguk would go on double dates with the couple quite often.
tell them i said hi and that they should kiss 😌
Immediately he responds.
koo 🥴:
they said only if u send me pics 😌
You laugh before snapping a selfie to send to him.
you didn’t even ask them but ok 🙄
koo 🥴:
ur in my shirt while jerking off ?
😩 🤌 🏻
pics PLASE
You giggle and you’re about to respond when you get a facetime call from him.
“You’re so impatient,” You scold. From the looks of it, he’s in a bathroom stall.
“And you’re so mean.” He pouts. “Lemme see ‘em.”
You think about being annoying and making him wait more, but he looks so handsome and hopeful that you just can’t bring yourself to tease much. You grab the bottom of his loose t shirt and pull it up and tuck it under your chin. The cool air of the room makes your nipples harden and you grab one of your tits in your free hand and squeeze and shake it gently. “These?” You ask sweetly.
His eyes are hooded and he subconsciously runs his tongue over his lips before biting the plump bottom one softly. He’s blushing when he says, “Mhmm, they’re so pretty. Will you lick them for me, baby?”
You groan. “You know I hate doing that.”
He swallows, and fusses with his hair for a second before his hand goes out of frame again. “I know it just- makes me so hard, I love watching you do it. You don’t have to though.”
You sigh and grip under your boob, and do your best to get your nipple to your mouth. They aren’t small but at the same time they aren’t the biggest so its kinda tough, but if you really try you can get it done. Once you swirl your tongue around your nipple, you hear a soft moan come from your phone speaker and you feel it go straight to your pussy. You suck on your nipple a little more before pulling off with a loud pop!
“Are you hard?” You ask, a slight shake to your voice as you get more and more turned on. He nods. “Are you touching?” He nods again. “Show me.”
He doesn’t hesitate. He pulls his sweater up and holds it between his teeth so you can see his toned stomach as well as the bulge in his pants. He runs his hand over it, toying with the tip some, making soft muffled noises fall from his lips. His stomach tenses a little bit.
You put your hand down your panties again, and tease a little at your clit. “You look so good, I wish you weren’t so far away...” You whine quietly.
Jeongguk groans and brings his face back into view. “I know, baby. I can’t even stay here with you to help or coach will get suspicious. We are supposed to be team bonding before the final game tomorrow.” He rolls his eyes. “I’ve got to will this boner away and go back out there.” He sounds like it pains him as much as it pains you to finish off alone.
“Take it out really quick, just for a second,” You say quickly before he goes.
He scowls playfully. “I really can’t stay, so just a little.”
You lick your lips and nod quickly, rubbing your fingers on your clit a little faster.
He gets the angle right and unbuttons his pants and pulls his hard cock out just enough for him to stroke up and down. He groans once he gets a hand around himself at the same time that you let out a high pitch moan.
Jeongguks cock is so pretty. It’s fat and plump and pink. Shiny at the tip where he’s already leaking. He always gets so wet for you, just like you get wet for him. His hand wrapped around himself is truly a sight. His long slender fingers moving up and down before the whole hand grips around his girth. He’s thick and long and the thought of him filling you up makes you whine and your pussy pulse.
“Are you touching yourself baby?” He whispers.
You nod. “Yes, yeah... please come home. Right now.”
He hums on a laugh. “Show me how wet that pretty pussy gets for me.”
You swirl your fingers around your wetness before bringing the glistening digits up into view of the camera. He groans and his head falls back before putting the camera back down to his cock to show you how fast he’s stroking.
“You get that wet for me even though I’m miles and miles away? How slutty baby... How do you taste hmm? Sweet like when I last tasted you just a couple of days ago?”
You’re just about to suck your fingers into your mouth for him when you hear a door open through your phone speaker.
“Kook? It’s time to stop jerking off and participate in the bonding activities, Captain .”
You can tell from the deep voice that it’s Taehyung that came to get him. You giggle quietly.
“Yeah yeah, I’m coming give me a minute.” He says through the bathroom stall. He sighs, and gives you a playful eye roll like he’s exasperated.
“Don’t cum while I’m here, and be thankful that it was me that came to get you and not coach. Bye y/n!” He says loudly.
“Bye Tae!” You squeak as you hear the door close.
Jeongguk groans, but smiles lazily at you. “Guess I gotta go.”
You hum. “Guess you do Captain.”
He laughs a little as he does his pants back up, tucking his now mostly soft cock away. “I love you. Cheer me on tomorrow. I’ll see you after, but I probably won’t get back to the dorms till late. Are you gonna be there still or are you going back to yours?”
“I’ll wait for you. Score a goal for me, and text me later. Love you.” You smooch at the screen and Jeongguk does the same before the call ends.
And with that you are once again left alone, but a lot more horny than before the talk. So you do what any sensible person would do.
You pull up the hub.
Jeongguk walks into his dorm room around 10 pm, and the first thing he sees is you, right where you were when you hung up the night before after your little facetime sesh. The only difference is that you’re wearing a different shirt, still his, and you have ice cream in your hand and your laptop set up on your lap a show playing in the background.
At the sound of the door opening your eyes find his and you quickly set your food down on his night stand, and fling the covers off your lap, paying no mind to the mac book that is now buried somewhere under his comforter, before squealing and flinging yourself into his arms.
He grabs you easily, bags dropping to the floor, hands under your butt to keep you hoisted. You wrap you legs around his tiny waist and smush your lips to his cheek and mumble a distorted, “I missed you.”
“Okay so kiss me about it,” He says back, eyes glinting and lips puckered.
You giggle, placing your hands on his cheeks, angling your head to slot your lips between his. He parts easily for you, and starts to walk you both back to his bed before he drops you where he found you. You bounce lightly and take a second to take him in.
He’s wearing oversized comfy clothes, grey sweats and a big white long sleeve shirt. His long hair is soft and shiny, falling over his pretty face delicately. He must have had a shower at the hotel after the game. He looks soft and oh so sweet. You just want to devour him. From the looks of the semi in his pants, he’s feeling the same way about you.
“Ah, already getting hard for me?” You coo, hand cupping him over his sweats. He pushes against your palm, unashamed. “You just got here baby.”
He shrugs looking down at you. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you all weekend. I had to rub one out in the bathroom room last night as soon as we got back to the hotel. Tae and Jimin were right outside.”
You nuzzle into the material of his sweats feeling his cock quickly become fully erect as you mouth at it. His hand comes down to cup your cheek, run through your hair. “I watched porn after we got off the phone.”
“Did you?” He asks, shifting away for a second so he can pull his sweats down, leaving him in his briefs. You see a little wet patch where the tip is. You suck lightly over the material and he moans loud and clear for you. He sounds so much prettier in person, over the phone just doesn’t compare.
“Yeah, came so hard. Was thinking about you and me.”
“Fuck. Did you make a mess all over my sheets?”
You shake your head as you slowly pull the waist band of his briefs down his hard cock. Once it’s free it bounces in front of your face, flushed and begging for your mouth. You stroke lightly while saying, “No, but I did find something that I wanna try.” You flick your tongue under the head and the hand in your hair tightens and pushes slightly. You part your lips and let him in.
“Mmm, you can tell me all about it once I’m done with you. I can’t wait any longer baby. Swallow me,” He moans, both hands going to the back of your head and pulling you farther onto his cock. He jerks when he feels you swallow around the tip. “So fucking good.” He sighs.
You let him have his way, fucking your throat a little, although he’s much gentler than he usually is when he does it, and he does it for a much shorter time. He must be tired from the weekend, or he must have something else in mind for tonight.
“Lay back baby.” He says when he pulls out of your throat, crawling on the mattress. He finds your discarded laptop and places it under the bed out of the way. You both remove the rest of your clothes before you do as he says and he settles down between your legs.
You figure since he got hard literally on arrival, that he wouldn’t waste time with teasing, would get right to the good part. But no. He takes his sweet time kissing, licking and biting at your thighs, squeezing them roughly in his hands. He nuzzles into your skin flicking the lightest lick over you pussy lips before pulling back and blowing a little. You gasp and roll your hips, trying to get him closer to where you wanted, spreading your legs even farther apart, presenting yourself to him. But he’s having none of that.
“Stop fucking squirming,” He groans before you feel his grip tighten on your hips. But still he doesn’t go where you want him, so you fight against his hold.
“Stop teasing then,” you whine with a scowl.
He bites at your inner thigh. “Hush baby.”
You huff and hit your tiny fists on the bed, frustrated and fussy. “Make me.”
Jeongguk stills and you gulp. He glances up from between your thighs, and he quirks an eyebrow at you.
“What was that?” He asks, much too calmly.
“I said make me.” You whisper poutily.
He sighs and sits up. You get to whine for just a second before you’re yelping and squeezing your legs shut. He just smacked your pussy.
“Shut up.” He says. He doesn’t sound angry, very casual in fact. He rubs his hands over your legs, easing them back open. “Y’know y/n, I had a very long weekend. Travelled hours to play 4 games in two days. Travelled hours back.” He’s running his fingertips over your pussy lips, smearing around the slick you know is pouring out of you. You shiver. You love it when he gets like this. You love it every time your guys are together, but when he’s extremely one way or the other, extremely dominant or extremely submissive? It just makes your entire body burn and your pussy ache. “I even scored a goal for you in the final.” He glances at you, finally sneaking his finger between your folds, he grazes your clit and you shiver, legs spreading even more. “All I wanted to do was get home and take care of you... Make my girl feel good...” He’s rubbing circles around the little nub and your hips slowly start to rock into his touch, breathing heavy from the pleasure. His girl. Yes. You’re his girl. You tell him so.
“Really?” He asks. You nod. He hums. “That’s funny because all I see here is a brat .” He spits out, before another smack lands on your sensitive cunt.
You cry out, trying to close your legs again, but he holds them open. He settles between them again and says sternly, “Now be good. I’m going to do it how I want. Do you understand?” You whisper a tiny yes. He sighs like he’s relieved that you’re not going to be difficult and put up much of a fight, so he can finally do what he’s been wanting to for days. He pushes back on your thighs so your cunt it fully exposed to him, and he spits on it before rubbing his fingers around the sticky mess. Every time he rubs over your clit you twitch, but you’re trying to be good.
“So fucking messy baby. So gross.” He says sweetly as presses his tongue flat on your opening before licking all the way to your clit. He moans at the taste of you despite his words just a moment ago and your eyes roll back. He’s in a mean mood now. And you’re gushing for it. “You’re lucky you’re so pretty baby... because your little cunt is so nasty , just leaking all over the place. I’ve barely even touched her, and she’s dripping down to my sheets. How did you manage to keep them clean while I was gone hmm?” He doesn’t let you respond, quickly sucking your clit into his mouth suctioning it just a bit before flicking the tip of his tongue over it quickly.
“Ah, f-fuck-“ You gasp. You raise yourself onto your elbows so you can watch. He hums around your clit before he flicks his eyes to you. You whimper, squeezing your eyes shut before falling to your back again, not able to handle the gaze he gives you.
He pulls off and uses his fingers to open your lips and pull the hood back before making his tongue flat and licking slowly over your exposed clit.
“Oh my god- That’s- that feels so good baby,” You say between breaths. Your legs are starting to get a slight tremble to them but still, you pull them farther back, making yourself as open as you can for his tongue.
He hums and then smiles, biting at your clit gently, making you jolt. “Feels good baby?” He rubs his fingers all over your core again. You nod and he says, “Could have felt good before and not had spanks if you weren’t so fucking bad.” He swats your cunt again lightly, before sighing and kissing your clit sweetly. Your head is spinning from the switches in his mood but you love it. Love that you don’t know what to expect when he slides his fingers into you. He moans and rests his head on your inner thigh, watching as his fingers slip in and out of your heat. He looks like he’s in awe of your cunt, watching as it clenches and sucks his fingers in. He looks so lovely between your legs.
“Always so fucking tight, can’t wait to get my cock in here.” When he says ‘here’ he curls his fingers inside of you and your back arches off of the bed, and you moan his name loudly. “That’s it baby...” He whispers against your core before he starts to thrust his fingers into you, curling on the pull out. He adds his mouth and you start to shake. Your hands find his hair and you pull him closer, feel him lick and suck at your clit like its the best thing he’s ever tasted. He moans while he eats your pussy. And he has the nerve to call you nasty. He’s absolutely filthy.
“I- close-“ You choke out, relishing in the sloppy wet pleasure that his mouth and fingers are giving you.
He says ‘mhmm’ against your clit before pulling away to get out a quick, “Fuck. Yeah you are, cum for me.” and then he’s diving right back in, focusing on where you’re most sensitive, your clit and your g spot.
“There baby, yeah- fuck , don’t stop ,” You whine quietly as your body tenses. Your legs are shaking out of control, before the string in you snaps and you cry out. Your thighs close around his head and you grind your cunt into his face riding out your orgasm before it gets too much and your try to squirm away. But Jeongguk holds you there until you’re almost crying from the overstimulation.
You pull at his hair, begging him to stop, and finally, he does. He pulls away from your messy cunt, and lays himself on top of you before kissing you deep, wasting no time sticking his tongue in your mouth so you can taste yourself on him. You moan and twine your fingers through his long hair, arching your body to get as close to him as you can. You feel him start to rut his cock over your sensitive core, and gasp. He’s so hard, you can feel him throb against you. He pulls away and grips his cock at the base, lining it up with your pussy before sliding it up and down, teasing your clit even more, mixing his precum with his spit and your slick. He focuses his frenulum on your clit, and his hips twitch. His head rolls back, and his mouth opens in a silent moan. He pulls back and when he looks at you again, he looks wild. His eyes are dark with desire and his pupils are blown. His hands grip at your body like he can’t get enough of you. You’ll have pretty little bruise blossoms all over your body in the morning. Finally, the tip of his cock breaches your center.
You’re so hot, and tight, and so fucking wet around him, that Jeongguk can’t keep the moan that falls from his lips locked away as he pushes inside of you. He pushes all the way to the hilt, you can feel him flush against your clit. Your mouth falls open in pleasure, but your eyes never leave him, the first thrust always being your favorite. Finally getting filled up like you wanted. You can feel him in your belly, heat pooling there as he lets you adjust to his size. Sometimes he likes press his hand into your tummy while he fucks you. Says can feel his cock splitting you open. You watch the man above you part his lips and furrow his brows in pleasure while he does his best to not go too fast, tries not to thrust into you wildly like he so wants to.
He’s leaning over you, hands on the side of your head. You run your palms up his sides, whispering, “I’m good, you feel so good. Give it to me please.” You lean up and press a kiss to his collarbone.
He’s quick as he hikes your legs up and hooks them on his shoulders. He rests some of his weight on you, bending you in half as he starts moving his hips. He pulls out to just the tip before slamming back in with one swift motion. Your hands claw at his back, the angle he has you in allowing him to reach even deeper. Gasps are punched out of you as he starts to set his brutal, sharp pace, not forgetting how bad your were earlier. He’s going to make sure you feel every inch of him for days.
“Oh my god, fuck. That’s so fucking good, Jeongguk. Please fuck me,” Your moans are high pitched and close to sobs.
He leans back some and spreads your legs wide, hands on your ankles to keep them open and he looks down slowing his thrust to watch as he slides into your little cunt. Your pussy is swollen and pink around his cock. He can see your arousal shiny on the base of his cock. “Fuuuck,” He moans as he closes his eyes basking in the feel of you clenching tight around him. He’s slowly pulling his cock from you, only for you pussy to pull him right back in. “This pussy was made to take my cock, huh?” He says speeding up. You nod and tell him, “Yes only your cock gets me this wet, this fucking hot.” He pumps his cock into you hard enough for you to get jostled, so your words come out in choppy and incoherent moans.
The way he’s fucking you makes your tits bounce, perky and pretty. He growls and leans down to suck a nipple into his mouth. You arch into his touch, cute little mewls falling from your lips as his tongue flicks over the small bud. You brush his long hair out of his eyes, holding him to your tit as he makes goosebumps rise to your skin.
“That feels so nice baby,” You say. It’s quiet and desperate, you head thrown back, neck extended and bared to him.
His eyes flick up to look at you, still playing with your nipples. He sees you bared in submission and can’t help the hand that rubs up your torso all the way to your neck. Just begging to have a hand around it. He pulls off your your tit, letting one of your legs fall to around his waist and you moan loud and long as the picks up his pace again.
Your favorite position. He knows how to fuck you any and every way, but like this he fucks you just right, making you fall apart in no time at all. The hand around your throat tightens at th