#Taehyung x pregnant reader

[ctrlhope]

Bound By Blood (m)

synopsis: A servant to the state since birth, forced to work for the royal family until you die. These are the conditions that have granted you life, yet are they are the same ones that can take everything away. He can take everything away. But he would never, for you are his future, his eternity.

k.taehyung x f.reader

❦︎ ݁ ˖┊: wc: 16.0k

❦︎ ݁ ˖┊: genre: royalty au, soft yandere, fluff, smut, smidge of angst

❦︎ ݁ ˖┊: content: soft yandere!prince!taehyung, maid!reader, power imbalance, talks about death/violence, blood, slight predator/prey dynamics, manipulation, misunderstandings, dom!tae, tae calls reader lamb, oral (f.receiving), marriage related dirty talk, virginity kink/loss of virginity, size kink, praise, reader is fucked dumb, implied kissing reader while she sleeps, implied offscreen somno, implied stalking, ownership, tae is rlly sweet and adorable

❦︎ ݁ ˖┊: notes: hello!!! this was meant to be a drabble but as you can see it spiralled out of control lmao. i got a little hyper fixated (and grew a really bad crush on this taehyung) so it ended up being way longer than i initially thought! regardless, i hope you all enjoy it as much as i did writing it!!

18+ -> minors / blank blogs dni

The Kim Empire. 

Your home, your family, your livelihood all wrapped up in those three little words.

They practically brandish your mind, have been since you were no more than a babe. Stuck in the clutches of everything Kim since you were born. Your mother a maid, your father gone from the face of the earth. At least as far as you are concerned he is, anyway. 

He is better off dead. The alternative of him living scott free in some far off land, meanwhile you have to serve the hand and foot of the king sets no more than the bitter taste of coffee beans against your gums. 

Bedding your mother, no more than a fresh-faced maid at the time. Outcasting her the second after when he had to have known the rules of the palace. The demise it would cost both her and her future daughter. Perhaps every generation that followed as well– if there were to be any, that is. 

Housestaff are not meant to have relationships. They are meant to serve the king and his bountiful family. How are you meant to do anything else with a child bouncing at your hip, a husband grabbing at your ass. 

You’ve heard the speech plenty of times. The words ingrained in your skull just as the brand you received when you were far too young to remember the pain of it. Evidence that you are bound to the palace by blood until the very moment you take your last breath. 

The punishment for becoming pregnant within the walls of the palace are simple: your child belongs to them. For anything within the Kim Estate is their rightful property, given to them by the grace of god. 

You, a gift from god to serve the empire. You would snort at the notion if training from a young age prohibited it. You are just a result of your mothers kindness, her naivety. 

You could never find it within your heart to blame her. She was just a girl who thought she was in love. Fired for her love. Had her daughter taken from her to serve for her love.

Love is something you will never be granted the property of. 

You will be granted an allowance to send home to your mother to keep her afloat. You will be granted a room to sleep in, clothes to wear, food to eat. A secure job in which you can never be fired– well. That is a lie. Though, your termination would come at the end of an axe, rather than a piece of paper. 

You used to muse at the thought– when you were a young girl, no more than 11 or 12. Going through your melancholy years, hating the rest of the world for simply existing. For putting you in a position where you could not change your fate, instead had to endure your present. Feeling like a  girl trapped in a tower just like the bedtime stories had always prescribed. 

One time you had caused such a ruckus in front of the oldest Kim son you really did think you were going to get the axe. Hell, you were even prepared for it. Locked away in a cell for two nights, brought before the executor. 

Right before the swing was meant to be brought down against your neck the head maid ran into the room, gave some sort of letter to the man. She apologised profusely, gripping your ear and dragging you away from the scene. 

You hadn’t acted ary since then. It taught you your place. Made you realise the need to survive buried deep within your bones. In the innate way some sort of wildcat would lash out until it was bloodied and on its last breath. 

You would not die at the end of a knife. You’d live your life, acting a maid until you could die peacefully of old age. Even if it meant surrendering yourself to servitude for the most annoying brat you’ve ever laid eyes on. 

A quiet sigh slips past your lips at the mere thought of him. The sound would get you punished if anyone were to hear, especially in respect to the coveted crown prince of the kingdom. Few share the same opinion as you of him– but then again most that work here aren’t forced. 

It is only when the stars are strung high in the sky that you allow yourself to feel such things. When you stay awake past the beginning of rest hours, most of the staff (save for the night shift) falling to sleep hours prior. Only then when you’re out in the gardens do you allow indignation to satiate your brain. 

For the few hours of freedom you may hold dear until the next morning begins and you are forced to live the same day once more. Over and over again until the end of time. 

Your fingertips reach out as you walk, bruised from the scrubbing of floors, to find purchase against the walls of flowers rimming the maze. Rough fingertips dance against the gentle petals of roses, lulling in the feeling. Picking themselves against the thorns without much of a thought, not withdrawing. Only pausing feet to observe. 

How can something so delicate and beautiful wish to cause harm? It does not. It simply desires a way to survive. You could never fault it for that. 

“Pretty, are they not?” A dark, husky voice sends cold down your spine. Hairs become on edge, back straightens taught, ears perk just as if you are an obedient dog. Fear flashing through your entire being.

You do not wish to turn around. Do not have any want to face the man that has caught the air in your lungs. The one catching you in the garden without any proper attire in place. Though you must. You must bow, grovel at his feet for forgiveness for allowing him to see you in your nightgown. For not being in bed as you should. 

Prince Kim has never been known for being kind. 

Your body acts for you while your mind sets on pause– taking several steps forward, bending your body at the hips to give a proper 90 degree bow. Your hands clasp before you, hair coming down in front of your face. 

“Prince Kim–” You rush, suddenly out of breath, “Please forgive my insolence. I-I am not of right attire or mind to be standing in front of his excellency right now. Nor should I be excused for touching the property of the palace. I have no proper excuse and any punishment you decide will be deserving. Please forgive me.” The words recite from your lips like a bible– instruction of them being heard time and time again. 

Cold night air whips at your ankles, fluttering the gown around your ankles. The chill only adding to the cold sweat you’ve discovered has perspired. Making your hair dance around your shoulders.

You expect something, anything really. A slap, a single word. Though there is only silence in response. Silence that extends far too long and feels far too pungent for your taste. If he was going to do something, you rather he just get it over with. 

After what feels like an eternity, you finally hear the baritone of his voice once more.

“Pretty, are they not?” He asks again, repeating the same sentiments as before. Confusion bristles through as a kite in the summer air. Why is he asking you this? Is he not annoyed he caught a maid in such a level of disrobement? What is he trying to gain? What does he want? 

All the questions you do not have any hope to answer rush through you causing you to feel confused and incomposed. Every boring lesson you were forced to sit through never taught you how to deal with this exact situation. You aren’t sure what he wants, nor your place in the garden. The thought scares you. 

Against your better judgement, you allow your chin to tilt up only slightly. Only enough to look at the man– to try and read the expression on his face so you can better analyse your next action. 

The shock you feel when you find his face is only inches from your own, frame bent down to make his eyes level with yours is something you cannot explain in words alone. 

You would prefer to scream and run, however that is not an option at this moment, or so it appears. Instead, your eyes only widen in shock, in trepidation. Your mouth opens into a small ‘o’ as you stare.

Never before have you made eye contact with a member of the family. Never before have you had the luxury to view one so close. In any other circumstance, you suppose, you would surely be punished for such a thing. Someone lower should never view a future king in such a way.

You wish you could say he was a heinous, ugly beast for hatred of the palace alone. Yet you can’t, for he isn’t. He is beautiful. 

Sure, you knew that already. Paintings of him are plastered across the walls– his face is everywhere eyes are able to reach. Yet this close, at this angle, you can’t stop the way your heart skips a beat. Can’t help but admire every facet of his complexion before being thrown in front of the lion again. 

A gorgeous, blinding smile wipes across his face the moment you face him. Lips forming into an adorable box after he finally has your attention fully drawn on him. You’re startled back once again, sending your brain into a further whirlwind than before. 

He desires an answer.

“I um… Yes. I suppose they are.” You nod slowly in response, following in his footsteps as he returns to full height. 

You must follow his lead– it is how you will survive. 

You usher a stray lock of hair over your shoulder, trying to stop it from hitting your face. The air starts to become stale again, feeling empty in the lack of his reply. It is awkward, and the way he stares at you, eyes darting around your face– your figure, has you feeling in some sort of girlish, embarrassed way. 

You think you dislike the feeling. 

“Are you a fan of roses?” His arms are pulled behind him, wrapped together as he bounces on his toes in something that looks like… boyish delight? The muddle of your brain can't help to understand a single thing. He is making no sense, trying to make conversation with you. Trying to find a morsel of companionship in someone who is meant to bow to him like he is the true god of your mortal plain.

You will have to oblige until he allows you to depart. 

“I suppose so.” 

He frowns. Try again.

“I adore them, the palace always has the most gorgeous petals all year round.” You smile at him, hoping it masks any discomfort you feel. 

The smile returns to his own lips as he begins to walk. Tilting his head to you as a cue to join him. You try to keep your paces a few behind his own, a maid should never walk beside a member of the family. Though he only slows in response, matching your gate even though it is obvious he hates having to slow down. 

Why is he behaving in this manner? It makes no sense to you. 

“The flower of devotion.” He nods, breaking the silence once more and keeping his eyes straight ahead. 

You almost want to admire his profile– the gentle curve of his nose, yet you refrain. Training your eyes ahead, keeping your fingers laced in front of you. Trying to look as put together as possible at this moment. 

“Is it?” You quiz, unable to take the awkward silence anymore. He doesn’t seem to mind it. Unbothered, tucking his hands into the pockets of his loose, flowing sleep pants. 

“Of many other things, as well.” He nods, sending a slight smile at you. 

“I don’t know much about the language of flowers.” Though it feels wrong to be talking with Prince Kim so casually, you try your best. The more you give in, mayhaps the sooner he’ll bore and the faster you will be able to run from the cage. 

“Tell me your favourite, maybe I can tell you its meaning.” He pauses and you find yourself at the foot of the gazebo. He reaches out his hand, offering to help you up the small stairs of it. 

All over again you find yourself taken aback. The prince is requesting that you touch him, not for his service, but your own. He desires to help you. Is for some reason treating you like a lady. 

You don’t understand it, yet with great hesitation you oblige. You place your hand on his much larger one, allowing it to encase it. Help you up the stairs.

“I don’t know many…” You hope he cannot hear the hesitation in your tone, “Though I’ve always been fond of lilies.” You tell him, attempting to pull your hand away from his own as you reach the top. 

He doesn’t allow it, keeping your small palm tight in his own. Fear trickles in once more, circling around your heart, constricting it. 

You knew you shouldn’t have trusted him in the slightest. It is here where you shall face punishment for all the previous misdemeanours committed. White stone shall be painted with red and you will be left to your own devices to clean up the mess.

Your lungs start to take in more air, though of course you try to disguise it. Turning around to face him, to discover why he has kept you held firm, air is leaving your lungs for another reason entirely. 

He holds your hand close, examining your fingers. Tilting it back and forth, smoothing his thumb over the back of your skin. If he takes note of the little dots of red, he doesn’t make comment of it. He only curls his fingers upwards, hooking against your own. Bringing your hand up to his lips as if it was the most delicate thing on earth. Staring at them with a passion you doubt you’ve ever seen before.

“Rebirth.” His breath fans across your knuckles, slowly lowering to place a gentle kiss against the skin. His lips are soft, so gentle against your weary flesh. So full of safety, so full of song.

When he retracts, he pulls away no more than a millimeter, though his grip tightens. 

“Purity.”

Your first meeting with the prince had left you with a flurry of emotions, none of which you could hope to syphon through. For hours he kept you in the gazebo, sitting with you. Talking until it appeared the sun was cresting over the horizon. 

He refused to release your hand the entire time. His fingers playing with your own, perhaps obsessed with the feeling of your tiny hand laced with his own pristine skin. Did not pay any attention the several times you tried to excuse yourself, only changing the subject of conversation to try and keep you in place.

It was strange. Confusing. You did not understand the reasoning or cause behind any of his actions. 

Well, at least until the next morning while you were scrubbing the floors. Your friend Annabell cleaning right by your side. Catching up, gossiping about the new recruits found in the manner. It is only times like these when you actually get the chance to talk, to giggle with someone meant to be your equal in both age and house status. 

The only chance you’re truly able to forget about the fact she is able to leave once her contract expires. But it does not matter– any small amount of spite you hold is slashed away by her kind smile. The understanding in her eyes as she treats you like just another maid set to work for the king instead of a captive. 

It is only after the 7th yawn of the morning she asks about the poorly covered bags under your eyes. You had gone to bed with the rest of the girls, there is no reason you should be so tired. You never appear to be, at least it is not shown around others.

You struggle with yourself for a moment, trying to decide whether the night before was meant to be kept as a closely guarded secret to your chest. Yet one look at your closest confidant had you spilling everything. 

The entire night– the stars, the flowers, the way he prattled on. How tight he gripped your dirty, calloused hand against his pristine soft ones. 

You feel strange speaking of it, remembering it in any way. It causes your cheeks to heat and a fury to settle below your ribs. 

It is a strange feeling, yet not an entirely unwanted one. 

Your eyes train to the floor as you spill your soul, unable to keep it in once it starts pouring out. You try to keep your tone as neutral as possible– to tell her about the night as if it was a simple news story you heard from a guard. Though, you’re unsure of your success in the matter. 

A poised laugh leaves the lips of your counter, her eyes cresting into half-moons. 

“You cannot be serious right? You tell stories.” She giggles, shaking her head before continuing her assault on the floor. 

You simply shake your own. 

“It happened, I was as shocked in the moment as you seem to be now.” She lets out a small bellow of giggles once again. 

“No, no. I believe it happened entirely. I’m only talking about the fluster of your face.” She giggles, lifting her rag and shaking it for dramatic effect. You roll your eyes, cracking a small smile.

“There is no such thing.” You laugh knowing that there is. 

“Oh my heavens. Y/n, you cannot tell me you’ve grown fond of the Prince, have you?” Her words are hushed now, much more so than before. As if someone may be listening to the conversation. 

You tense in reply, unsure of the answer yourself. The closest you’ve ever felt to fondness of another man was a stable boy a few years back. Only 17 at the time, head wrapped in romance novels that you didn’t entirely understand. He was handsome and he was kind. However just as you were starting to become closer to him, he was sent away to work at another palace. 

You had not been optimistic since then.

She takes your silence as an answer in itself. Moving towards you, gripping your shoulders and hauling you to sit on your haunches. Forcing you to look at her face as she speaks. 

“You cannot be serious.” She repeats again, hoping for any sign of doubt. All she receives is bewilderment in reply, “Y/n. You can never trust Prince Kim.” 

You sigh, “I know, Anne, I–” You’re cut off with her own voice again.

“No, not in the way you’re imagining.” She sighs, letting her hands drop from your shoulders to continue scrubbing at the floor. Making work of herself as she speaks, “The other maids don’t tell you of much, do they?” 

You can’t deny it. Your seclusion within the castle walls is only partly of your own design. 

Other maids do not feel as though they can trust you, seeing as you are full property of the crown. In their eyes, you hold not a crumb of loyalty to your own kind. Few maids speak to you like Annabell does for fear the second they say anything wrong you are going to tell the world. 

You would never, though your word is worth its weight in feathers to them.

“They don’t care for me as you do… no…” You admit, continuing to clean as well. She already knew the answer, letting out an exhale before she speaks.

“Prince Kim has a pension for… debauchery… I shall say,” She flinches at her own words, yet doesn’t know a better way to put it, “The variety in which he uses pretty words to seduce young ladies to bed with him. Royalty from other lands, general’s daughters, maids. It matters not. He likes them for the night then pretends they shall never exist again.” 

Each word she speaks sends another stab into your gut. A dull pain blooming from the same places which a swirling was forming before. 

Ah. It all makes sense now. 

“Oh.”

“He has a particular fondness for the other maids, you know. Bedding them without a second thought.” A grimace forms on your friend's lips, scrubbing harder into the already shining floors, “There is no reason to form any sort of affection for that man. It will only end with his seed inside your core and a knife in your heart.” 

Yes, everything she is saying makes perfect sense. You feel almost stupid to not see it before. Maybe you just didn’t want to see it– want to think about it in any sort of fashion. But this makes much more sense than the crown prince wanting to speak to you for any other purpose. Explains why he was acting as a true gentleman to someone so much lower than him. 

However, you find that it does not take away the cavernous pit that has formed in your gut. 

“I see, I have no desire for either.” You nod your head in understanding, not sure of what else to say. “I don’t understand why he’s taken an interest in me, though.” 

She gawks, “I don’t understand why it has taken him so long to in the first place.” She shakes her head.

“Nevertheless, it doesn’t matter. Y/n, you must promise me. You will not fall for him, nor give any part of yourself to him. He is not someone that will care for you like you deserve.” She states, blue eyes piercing icicles into your own. She is determined and will not relent until you agree.

“I do not wish to. Not after hearing all of…” You make some sort of motion with your hand, “that. Anyone would be a fool to like him.” 

You nod your head while Annabell smiles in agreement. 

“Good.” 

Those are the last words you exchange with anyone for hours. The rest of the day passed by with lightning, an endless turnstile of things to take care of. A ball was to be held soon meaning the castle would be a wreck for the next few days. Too much planning, cleaning, sewing, coordination had to take place before anyone could rest. 

Honestly, you were grateful for it. A break from thinking was much needed. As is a good night’s rest. 

You sigh, already imagining how lovely it would feel to pull off your shoes for the day. Peel the cotton off your body and replace your dress with something more comfortable. 

Oo! Hopefully enough warm water will be left for a quick bath. That would be just wonderful, your muscles would be able to unfurl. The perfect thing to lull you into a glorious sleep.

Your arms stretch over your head as you finish descending the staircase into the maid hallways. Bones in your back pop from the pressure, causing a sigh to make its way from your lungs. Your nimble fingers make their way to the ribbon holding your hair in place, untying it and allowing the tresses to fall. 

Soon you would be in the maid resting quarters– your appearance would matter not there anyway. 

You send small smiles to other staff members passing you, those that have either just woken for the night or those who still have work to do. Yet in return, each one of them just stares at you with an incredulous look. Turning and whispering to their friends as if you were not still in front of them. 

You can’t help to understand why. Those around you may not have considered you a friend, but they were never rude. Always polite when need be. It has you feeling strange, some type of nervousness as you get closer and closer to the hallway extending to the maids personal rooms. 

Rounding the corner, you discover exactly why. 

His frame looks entirely out of place standing there. A perfect, pristine picture in a hallway of drab, illuminated only by the lanterns hanging on the wall. Royal blue tunic draped on his shoulders only emphasising his status. 

He looks as though he was never meant to be here. Like a mistake was made along the cobblestone walls. No, he looks as though he is meant to be among the living. Not in your dreary, windowless life. Nothing could change that. 

You stand there frozen, a deer caught in the lanturn of a hunting party. A pounding of your heart, as well as the dark swell of your gut coming back to life. Why is he here? Why the hell does he have a bouquet of flowers?!

You wish to scream, but you don’t. You have already been caught. 

His eyes look up from where he created a small pile of dirt on the floor. His face coming alight in an instant, pushing himself to full stature from where he once leaned against the wall. Long legs making their way towards you while he suddenly has the decency to hide the bouquet behind his back. 

Annabell certainly did not mention this method of Prince Kim’s seduction. You had never seen him down here before. 

“Hi.” Is all he says once he is finally face to face with you. His face bright and youthful. Excited.

It seems all formalities have been dropped in his mind, though you refuse the notion. 

“Prince Kim.” You simply reply, lowering yourself in a curtsy. 

He pays no mind, almost pretending you never did it in the first place. Instead, he simply rocks back and forth on his heels, bouncing slightly in delight. Wanting something, unable to voice it. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” You ask, hoping to end the encounter swiftly to stop all of the prying eyes leering into your being. 

“I brought you something.” His eyes do not break contact with yours once and you can see his hand twitch by his side as if it wants to reach out for something. You're glad he has the decency to hold back, so you shall do the same by pretending you never saw the flowers in the first place. 

You choose not to ask yourself why he brought you a present. It must just be a trick of seduction.

“I am honoured to accept such a thing.” You send a small smile his way, something between real and fake. It seems to make him beam. 

His arm comes out from behind, holding the flowers between both of your bodies. You look down at them, shock written across your features. 

Sure, you had noted them as flowers before. But you think these may be the prettiest ones you’ve seen in your whole life. Petals of orange, white, and purple cloud in your eyes. Stomatas filled with the sweet pollen.

Lilies. All different kinds– ones you’ve never seen before.

They’re out of season, at least you think they are. How did he get these? Why is he giving them to you? Why is he trying to get the butterflies to return? Why is he trying to make your heart explode?

“Prince Kim…” You’re not sure what to say– instead gently reaching out to feel the velvet of a petal. Staring intently at their colours, unable to pull your eyes away. 

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” His voice is a husk of a whisper, as if you’re the only two in the hallway. As if other maids are not passing, as if they are not staring at the two of you.

“Yes… I… I’m not sure what to say.” It is all so hypnotic. 

“Thank you would be a good beginning, no?” His smile is soft, a light chuckle present in the tone.

You pause, tilting your head to look up at him fully– a large, real smile donning your lips.

“Yes. Thank you.” 

You feel as if you are floating, just as you would when reading those romance books in your late teen years. Like the world has stopped moving save for the prince in front of you slowly passing the flowers into your arms. 

Your hands brush against each other and you feel his fingers twitch, tightening ever so slight. Wishing to grab onto your hand just as he had done the night before. Wishing to insect every line that traces over your fresh once more.

However, he refrains. Allowing his ringed fingers to sink themselves into his pockets.

“I was just going to have them delivered. I’m not really meant to be down here, you know,” His smile is shy, “But I didn’t know your room. That, and I wanted to see you again.” 

You look down, unable to keep the eye contact he presses you for. Prince Kim is too much for you. You don’t understand how he couldn’t be too much for anyone. 

“Oh…” You’re a flush, “Thank you for saying that.” 

“It is nothing to thank me for.” He chuckles, bangs dimming the hues of his eyes, “I’m sure I bored you with all of my ramblings.” 

He did, partly, but that was more discombobulation for the situation and a sense of tiredness creeping into your bones. You shake your head quickly.

“Of course not. I had.. Fun.” Mayhaps fun isn’t the right term, yet there is no word that exactly describes your emotions of last night, nor the ones of today.

“As did I.” His lips are tight in a smile again, feet bouncing on their heels once more. He’s nervous, wants to say something again but isn’t sure how.

You’re not sure how to feel about learning what that habit means. Not sure how to feel about what any of this means. You have not had a moment alone to truly dissect what all of it is. 

“I would love to spend the night talking to you again, if you would allow me.” You don’t think you would love anything more, yet you know you would not be able to function. Would probably make a fool of yourself, too. 

“I-I think it would be best if I were to get some rest… I had not even an hour before I had to start working last night.” 

He frowns, “That’s not good for your health…” He pauses, searching your face for any signs of distress, “Then let's talk in your room. I will only stay until you sleep.” 

You pause, air drifting back into your lungs.

Ah. Right. 

The words of your friend sink in once again, breaking you out of whatever trance he had put you under. Whatever spell he laced through both of your ears to have you singing songs of praises for him and the crown. 

He wants you as a notch in a bedpost. Nothing more. It is clear as day and you are a fool to think anything other than that. This is all just a cleverly rehearsed show. You will not fall victim like your mother. 

All royalty is the same. Use use use. Beat a dead horse until it stops coughing up any sort of reprise. 

Your posture is suddenly tense, fist gripping the flowers so tight your knuckles appear white. 

How dare he think so low of you. How dare he think he might be able to fuck you for nothing. 

“Men are not allowed in the women's private quarters.” Your voice is staunch, though it is not as if he can tell nor cares. 

If he does, he doesn’t show it. 

“Ah,” The lilt is still evident in his tone, the cat playing with the mouse, “But I am not any man, am I?” His body leans a bit closer, pulling his face parallel to your own. Smirk playing on his lips. 

Beauty is a deceptive thing, isn’t it? “When I am king I’ll make it so I can see you whenever we both desire.” Something heats in your gut at those words, yet anger quells it just as fast. 

“It is a shame that you are not King yet, then.” You nod politely in his direction, trying to excuse yourself. Yet your words only seem to excite something in his eyes, lighting a fire behind them. 

“My, I didn’t know you felt that way.” He smiles coy. A flustered sensation overcomes you as you realise the double meaning behind your words. You had made it sound like you wanted him in that way when that could not be farther from the truth.

“I do not.” You state, your voice ice. Though once again, it seems that it does not pierce him. 

“There is no reason to be so cold, Y/n.” He sing songs, tapping one of his long fingers against the side of his head. 

“I am not being cold! You are just not listening.” You sigh in exasperation. Exhaustion and annoyance make you forget yourself, causing your volume to rise just as his own does. This only seems to excite him more. 

“I have heard enough.” He giggles, boyish and what others would describe as cute. Right before you’re able to argue back once again, he cuts in with his own voice once more.

“I will leave you for now. Find a pretty place for the flowers.” 

He smiles generously at you, beginning to walk away, “Have a good night. I’ll see you soon.” 

In your shamble of a disposition, you’re left stuck there. Staring at his back as he retreats down the hallway. 

The shock of everything that had just transpired coming over you all at once. How poorly you had behaved. How you spoke to him. He could have you killed for any one of those things however instead he left you with a bouquet of flowers and a promise for another night. 

You scramble to find yourself, to move yourself from out of the eyeline of every other maid. To make your way to your room, your one sanctuary as quickly as possible. 

It is only when you’re in those walls, hard oak door shut firmly beside you that you have to remind yourself of your promise to your best friend. Remember that the prince fights his battles with words and emotions. 

Your second meeting with the man had left you even more confused than the first. Thousands of questions and emotions real through your bones at a pace your brain can’t manage to understand. Leaves you fuming, trying to form a single coherent thought as you analyse the last two nights with a ferocity unimagined. 

In your state, however, you neglect to think of the one question that should be dancing before you, held on a string just out of reach. 

Why did he know your name? 

It is apparent that since that night, Prince Kim has located which room you find habitance in. 

This morning, another letter has found itself slipped under the base of your door. They have become commonplace now– letters detailing apologies for why he was unable to visit, what he had gone about on his day, his regrets that he has not heard back from you in what feels like ages. 

He’s tried to speak to you a few times in the palace when you work. His eyes always trained on you with something you’re unable to describe when you clean nearby. 

You wish you could say it was perverse in manner, but it was nothing of the sort. 

Every once and awhile you would catch a lily pinned to his breast pocket. He would send you a secret smile whenever it caught your attention. As if it was a tale meant for only the two of you to know. As if he wanted to carry a portion of you with him.

You may be naive in saying so, nor do you have much experience in the matter, but these do not feel like the actions of a man who simply wishes to find home under your dress. These feel more personal. More extravagant than anything else. 

Nevertheless, you ignore every single advance. Annabell made you promise, and it was a promise you were intent on keeping until your dying breath. 

Put the letters away in a box, never to be responded to. Avoided looking at him whenever he was near. Rushed out of rooms when it appeared he was intent on  making his war for you.

Icing out the prince is what is best. Whatever lilies he will wilt and die and you will be able to continue on with your hatred of the Kim family as well as your blood pact with the throne. 

You only wish it was that easy.

“Y/n!! Miss Y/n!!” There is a scramble outside of the door, voices hailing for your presence. You don’t know why– you’re on wash duty. Anyone, unless they’re extraordinarily new, would know that. 

The voice grows more erratic, more panicked. As if their life depends on finding you in that very moment. The other maids in the quarters send their glaces to you, urging you to go yet not one opens their mouths. 

At least one bonus of endenturing your entire life to the palace is that you have grown in rank. More than 10 years has granted you a decent position. 

A hushed sigh slips past your lips and your hands find themselves forcing the pile of sheets into the washing tub. Your hands quickly wipe away at your apron, ridding them of any moisture before pushing open the door. 

Stepping into the hallway lined with stone you notice only a single girl. Her entire form shaking as she paces the hall– panicked. Blonde curls bouncing with every step, cheeks a fluster. 

A new recruit, indeed. Celley is the name she wears. 

She had just entered with the last batch of new maids, starting at the palace no more than 2 months ago. She was a recruit you were unsure of– not having a lick of grace or balance, nor any experience with serving. But you suppose there are many reasons maids are chosen. 

You do not like to think of them.

Her feet are suddenly clamouring over to you, noticing your presence for the first time since you’ve stepped in the hallway. Her small, shaking hands grip your shoulders, holding you with all the will she seems to possess. 

“Excuse me have you seen–” She stops herself, tiny pants pausing as her eyes go wide, “Oh my days! Miss Y/n! You must hurry!” She rushes, hand gripping your wrist as she tries to pull you away. 

Though your face twists in confusion, your feet remain firm. 

“What’s the matter?” You ask, both sympathy and concern entering your frame. You can admonish her later for her lack of manners, however now, the girl seems truly frightened. Her large steel eyes looking back at you, pleading. 

“The crown prince! He’s!” She’s out of breath once again, continuing to try and urge you on.

This time, the second the word prince is muttered, you begin to follow her pace, “He’s lost his mind! He’s going on a firing spree! Locking up anyone who tries to calm him!” 

“What? Why is that? Did something happen?” You ask hushed, urging the girl to keep her voice down. Though you both are similar in age, it is apparent who has experienced this type of thing before. 

“He got into some kind of spat with his father. His instructor was fired when he tried to continue on with their lesson.” It seems she understood your message, continuing to hurry you down the halls. 

“And what am I meant to do?” 

“I-I don’t know!” She lets out a quiet yelp, pulling you closer as you exit the maid hallways and enter the palace ones, “His personal maid is away visiting family. She said to leave everything to you if something were to happen! I-I didn’t know what else to do!” 

Damn Eleanor and everything she stands for. Why the hell did she have to bring your name into this?! Shouldn’t the head maid be called in times like this?! Not you, someone who wants nothing to do with any member of the royal family. Especially the crown prince himself. Sure, there must be rumours spreading around but you had managed nearly three weeks without speaking to him!

You let out a sigh, squaring your shoulders in an attempt to appear more confident, more put together. You will do this, and you will come out victorious. Every battle before has left you victor. What is one more?

“I understand. It will be dealt with.”

The least you can gain is the idyllic picture of the prince to be shattered forever. That would be the most ideal outcome, something to truly force him out of your heart for good. You will not fall prey to him and his earthly desires. He will not win your heart. 

At least that is what you hope. 

The throne room's doors stand before you, delicate lacings of gold worth more than your entire being etched into its surface. A glittering picture for what is sure to be a bloodbath behind its contents. 

A deep inhale of warm air fills your lungs, hand pressing against the door as you force it open. Face someone you have not wanted to see nor extinguish the flames of in nearly a month. 

He stands before you, 20 paces ahead. A broken bottle in his hand as he heaves, shoulders rising and falling with the passion of ten thousand suns. The look of murder in his eyes as he stares down at a maid, her form on the ground. Bowing with as much might as she can possess, looking for any exit possible. Few other maids stand around the room, keeping their heads low, avoiding any eye contact possible. 

Though he looks like a mad man– mayhaps a god of war himself, not a single hair is out of place on his head. He is still the picture of sovereignty. And though your breath spikes, you find that you are not afraid. 

What a strange feeling it is.

The creak of the door sends single to him, has him whipping his head to face you. Anger etched into his features, a new target befalling his sight.

You stand tall, moving towards him. You will rise to the position given to you, even if it shall mean your inevitable downfall. As long as the new staff are safe.

Only, when he looks to you, no wrath is found. No anger or deceit. The second his eyes meet your own, his expression drops along with the bottle in his hands. More glass littering the floor in its wake. 

His eyes soften, his lips turning from a sneer into a gentle frown. His shoulders automatically lower, and suddenly it appears that there is no one else in the room. His legs move automatically, carrying themselves to you with such a hurried pace you would have thought he had seen a long lost friend. 

Oddly, this scares you more than when he was angered. 

You start into a bow, “Prince Kim, I’ve come in place of–” 

His arms wrap themselves around you before you can speak another word. Pulling you in, wrapping you into his scent as you're pressed against his sturdy chest. Strong arms keep you in place as he tries to make his body become one with your own. 

His face buries itself into the crook of your neck, one hand raising to tie itself in your hair. It forces you to stay in place, stay attached to him just the way he wants you to be. Allows him to inhale, breathing in all of you. Finally delving into the scent that he has been craving.

Your eyes only widen, hands staying firm at your side in shock. Heart beginning to race, head becoming lost in the soaps that only a member of a family could possibly own. 

You’re not sure what to do. How to behave. As far as you are concerned or aware, this is something that no other has had happen before. At least not so openly. Not so brazenly in front of a myriad of other people. 

But, it seems to calm him. To placate him in a way you’re not sure anyone could explain. 

You try to make a small twisting motion with your hand, try to urge everyone else to leave while they have the chance. 

They seem to take it, exiting the room as fast as possible. 

You’re sure word of this will spread throughout the castle quickly. You hope the consequences will not be dire. 

“Prince Kim–” You begin to speak after everyone has cleared out, after he holds you for what feels like a lifetime. You can’t find it in you to want him to pull away, no matter how embarrassing this seems. 

“Shh,” He quickly silences you with a gentle press of his lips to your pulse, “Let me stay like this for a moment.” 

You are unable to move. Unable to breathe after he kisses you. War could begin in that very moment and you’re not sure you would have noticed in the slightest. You are stunned into obeying his whim as he simply inhales and exhales. 

The umber in his voice only comes after a millennia, after his shoulders have completely sagged. After all the tension is removed from his body. 

“You didn’t respond to my letters.” He still doesn’t pull away, his grip on your hair tightening a fraction. 

You pause.

“I…I didn’t know where to send them.” You lie and his hand loosens. The correct answer. 

“My study. Put them under the door to my study.” He instructs like a king would. 

You’re not sure why the tone of his voice sends shocks to your gut. Pooling into something you only find in your dreams.

“But if someone were to see them–” 

“Let them.” Mumbles in your ear to you and you alone, a growl practically spiking through his voice, “I want them to know.” 

Oh. This is new. This is definitely new. This is not the same way you felt with the stable boy years ago. This has become something entirely alienating. A completely different beast. You know that now as his baritone voice sends waves straight through your gut. 

You simply nod in reply, your mouth unwilling to say anything back. The arm around your lower back grows more firm.

“Tell me where you will put your replies.” He commands into your ear. 

“Under the door to your study.” Your reply is automatic, years of answering to the kingdom evident in your tone. 

He sighs, unfurling his fingers from your locks to gently pet the top of your head, “Good girl.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead, soft as he touches you.

“Good lamb.”

You sigh, fingers deftly searching through your wardrobe for just a single pair of underwear. But once again, you turn up empty. It seems like every day that passes, another pair disappears without your knowledge. 

Perhaps one of the new girls is causing a fuss, messing up the laundry for everyone else. 

That is the only logical solution, at least. 

But logic doesn’t seem to make much sense at all anymore. You couldn’t hope to understand why few of your other belongings have come up indignant as well. 

Your favourite perfume, one of your stuffed animals, even your toothbrush! All have magically vanished from thin air over the course of the last week. 

It is too bad that you haven’t had the time to think about it, either. Preparations for the ball have been raging throughout the palace. Everyone has been on their toes, unwilling to face the wrath of the planners as they try to make everything perfect. 

You have had not one moment alone to think, either swept up in cleaning, decorating, or well… recently you and the prince have been going on walks through the garden at night. Though that doesn’t matter much. It doesn’t mean anything– just another thing he made you promise to. Claiming he wishes to spend as much time with you as he can. 

His recent fixation is trying to get you to call him by his true name. 

You would never dare, nothing is more inappropriate than such a title. It is something only his most beloved is meant to call him, and that person is certainly not you.

You try to force any thoughts of him out of your head, though it is clearly a fruitless endeavour. Especially with the dream you had the night prior. 

His hands finding themselves between your legs, touching you in a way no other has. 

You flush, quickly shaking all thoughts of the night away. 

The tea! Your tea, yes. A prescription from the doctor for this very thing.

More often than not, you wake to find a mess between your thighs. Sticky arousal between them in a perverse fashion. The region sensitive and overstimulated combined with a mess of dreams. More sexual in nature than ever before.

Embarrassed, you had turned to the only person you could trust. The palace staff’s doctor. 

She had told you it was normal– that you were simply having what she described as ‘wet-dreams’. The title alone made you feel embarrassed.

Nevertheless, she prescribed you a tea to help calm your nerves. It was meant to be passifying in nature, calming any lush desires you may have beginning to form. 

You were not sure how it functioned, however you trusted her. Found that it quelled whatever fire burned inside of your heart for the time being. 

Perhaps just a new oddity to add to your reality, you suppose. 

Finally, you find a proper set of undergarments to pull over your legs. Letting out a breath in relief now that you finally have them. 

Today is going to be busier than the last month combined– the ball is tonight. You know for a fact you will be rushed around the palace all day, fixing everything into an acute sense of perfection that only the Kim family is known for. 

You reach to spray your second favourite  perfume across your skin, only to find that the bottle has gone missing as well.

Your hairs stand on edge, a dark pit forming in your stomach.

It is all too strange for you to want to understand. 

Okay, now you’re sure Annabell must be wrong. She has to be, right? There is no other conclusion possible. 

The thoughts run through your head as you pace the small confines of your room. Thumb between your lips, biting the skin feverishly. Contemplating what it is exactly that you should do. A heavy box sitting on your bed, a letter laying next to it along with a single lily.

A month ago, you met Prince Kim in the gardens. A month ago you spoke to him all night long. A month ago he brought you flowers. He has been leaving you letters ever since. Three weeks ago he held you in his arms, made you promise to write him back. Made you promise to meet him in the gardens as many nights as you can. 

But this, you could not accept. You could not possibly think this is real. Why has he gifted you something like this?

A dress lays on your bed. The most gorgeous dress you have ever seen, in fact. Lined with crystals and gems, many layers of tulle poof from the underskirt. It must’ve cost a fortune, but it was not meant for you.  It is a dress meant for a princess, not a simple maid of the palace. Not… Not someone the prince simply wanted to bed. 

So why did it lie here, along with a lace mask and a pair of shoes. Why did it come with a note from the Prince, telling you to put it on for tonight's events? Is this why the head maid dismissed you so early?

No. You could not. You will not make a fool of yourself. You do not belong up there, dressed as a princess when you are far from the thing. That is your decision. It will be the one you stick to.

Even as hours tick past on the clock, even as you can hear the night in full swing, you stay locked in your room. Feeling the same as you did when you were a girl locked in the dungeon all those years ago. Helpless, indignant, stubborn. 

Lost in your thoughts as you try to piece together a puzzle that has several spaces missing. Feelings for the stable boy– life with him, it would have been easier than this. You’re sure of it. 

You allow yourself to imagine what life could have been like if he stayed. It would have been a cosy, peaceful. A straightforward one that didn’t leave so many questions in your head. Jungkook was always like that, spoke his mind without leaving anything to be guessed. You adored it, wished you could revel in it now. Wish you could kiss him under the cherry tree once more.

A pounding wakes you from the dream you were just beginning to weave. Loud, angry knuckles against the firm oak of your door startling you to your feet in an instant. Chills running down your spine as if your body already knew who was behind it. 

You wait too long to reply, another series of rapts following in quick succession. You’re in trouble. You’ve angered the prince in a way you’re not sure you’ll be able to find your way out of, but you have no choice. He knows your inside. You know you must face him. You must be brave.

Right before another series of knocks can echo against the walls, you finally pull the door open. 

There stands the man you knew would be there all along, sculpted like the lord had made him himself. You wish you could behold him properly, to stare at his beauty in the suit specially prepared for this night. One he asked your opinion of several times during its construction.

But you are unable to, not when his shoulders heave like a bull planning its charge. Not when his eyes are narrowed into a glare that enters your soul without consequence. Never before had you felt his anger directed at you. 

The future king would be a fearsome thing. 

“It appears you are not dead.” He states, cold and detached in a way you have never heard before. It makes you feel small, feel weak. Though by now, you know he wants an answer. He will not accept the lack of one from you anymore. 

You shift uncomfortably on your feet, “I suppose not…” 

“Then what do you suppose.” You flinch. You’re not sure.

“I– Prince Kim…” 

“Taehyung.” He interjects, though you ignore him. Only his future wife is meant to call him by that name.

“Prince Kim, I could not possibly accept this gift. You have to understand.” The way he looks at you makes you want to shrink. To appear as small as possible to placate the lion you’ve wondered into the den of. 

“I do not. You are to accept any gift I am to give you.” He is stern as if lecturing the ground beneath him. He looks massive in your tiny room, taking up much more space than you wish to grant him.

You begin to grow frustrated, annoyed. Does he have no sanity? Does he really think it is okay to play with the hearts of women so carelessly? It is disgusting. Repulsive even! You do not deserve anything like this. You begin to grow tense, grow firm like a wolf cornered. Ready to lash out with no remorse. 

That is what you are, anyway. A cornered animal with no hope to escape. 

“I won’t.” You raise your shoulders, stand taller and stare him straight in the eyes. If this will have you sent to the axe then so be it. 

He grows just as tense in reply, his lips forming a sneer as he takes a step closer towards you. 

Never before has Prince Kim been opposed like this before, you’re sure of it. The way his irises become darker is proof. 

“And why is that, lamb?” He mocks, and the fire inside of you only begins to glow brighter Of course, you’re just the lamb that's wandered into the lion's den. The lamb being prepared for meal. 

Steam clouds around your head, jaw becoming tense as you try to hold back your rage. Rage for your mother, rage for the life she was taunted into the same way the prince is trying to do to you now.

“I will not become another woman you bed and then lay waste to!” You practically shout, unable to hold back your emotions anymore. 

His nostrils flare, “Excuse me?” 

“You heard my words.” You state back, indignant, “I will not be an idiot. I will not become another woman who you use for your own pleasures!”

You hear him scoff, head turning away from you for the first time as he looks around your room. 

“You think that little of me?” His eyes make their way back to you, his face having the expression of somewhat… hurt? 

Suddenly, you’re unsure. You feel stupid all over again though you’re not entirely conscious as to why. You hurt him? How could you possibly hurt the most powerful person in the country? 

You falter in your stance, and it is obvious that he takes notice. Uses it to his advantage as he takes another step closer, makes his hand find your own. His thumb brushing soothingly over the knuckle. His hands are always so soft. 

“What else am I meant to think? I’ve heard the stories, Prince Kim.” Where once was fire lays blistering coals. Hot to the touch yet unyielding in their passion. The air in the room has changed in much the same way.

“Tell me of them.” He asks you, his voice now gentle, soft. 

It is strange, the complete change he’s had since first entering your room. Has your brain going a little haywire. Especially with the way he stares at your hands. Like they could be locked forever. 

“I…” You feel flush, embarrassed to mutter the words in front of the prince, “I’ve heard you seduce women… princesses, noblemen’s daughters, maids… the lot. Then you abandon them the next morning with your seed in their core and a knife in their heart.” 

You keep your eyes to your feet, face feeling hot by repeating the words of your friend. You refuse to look at him, you cannot take the embarrassment. 

A light chuckle leaves his lips, a hand coming up to attempt to muffle them, “Sorry, sorry.” He shakes his head, a playful glint in his eyes. You’re baring your soul to him! How dare he laugh! 

He coughs to muffle the rest of the sound, returning to the moment, “I apologise. I just had the realisation. You’re jealous of them, aren’t you lamb?” 

A mess of flutters takes up your stomach, your shoulders raising in alarm. Your lips open to try and form words, to try and deny the allegations made your way, yet you are entirely unable. 

Especially with the way he moves closer, crowds your space with such ease. Leads close to you, whispers words in your ear, voice lower than before. 

“You wish it to just be you I lay with, is that so?” You can practically hear the smile in his voice as another, more erotic chill finds its way down your spine. 

“Th-That isn’t–” You try to speak, but your voice sounds as light as air. He moves closer, arm carrying itself around your back, pulling you flush against him as he speaks sinful words. Words only for you. 

“Ah…” He sighs in relief, lips practically touching your ear once you’re finally connected to him, “You don’t like it when I go fuck your friends then come to spend my nights talking to you… writing to you… touching myself to the thought of you.” 

You cannot take it. You cannot take this, take him. Your head is spinning, clouding with the drug known as Prince Kim. Your knees feel weak, your limbs feel all too heavy. How can someone so pretty say such sinful words without a second thought. It’s too much. Far more than your poor little heart can take.

Your arms come up, press as firm as they can against his chest despite how weak they feel.

“Mmm…?” He asks in response, pulling back to look down on your face. Mock confusion spread across his features. He takes a step back, pretending to look you up and down. Like he is just playing a game of poker while all of your tells are as clear as day. 

“Or is that not what you wish?” He asks, head tilted to the side like a confused puppy, “You would like things to remain the same?” He smiles, drawing conclusions all on his own. 

He pauses, waits for you to say something, anything before continuing. But you do not, so he will keep playing this game by himself. 

“Then I shall go find someone to keep me company for the night. Mmm..” He taps his chin in contemplation, turning on his heels, meanwhile panic and dread fills every facet of your being, “What were those ones you’re friends with again? Celley? That pretty blonde? Oh, or maybe Annabell. I’m sure she would be prepared to go for a second round.” 

What? What? No, No! What is he talking about? Why is he starting to walk away?! Wait, Annabell, second time?! She has before?! 

Oh heavens, oh gods. 

“Anyway, I'll be sure to write to you after. Have a good night, dream of me.” You begin to hyperventilate as he takes one step out the door. No, he can’t leave. You don’t want him to. You don’t want him to be with anybody else. You can’t let it happen. You can’t afford such a thing! Ever! That is not where he is meant to be! 

Your body carries you before your mind does. Hand slipping out, gripping onto the back of his coat with all of the strength you can muster. Feet planted firm in your room, doing everything in your power to not let him leave.  

It is really too bad you do not see the sick smile that forms on his lips. Maybe then the pieces of the puzzle would have finally clicked in place. 

Instead he only tilts his head backwards, painting a complexion of boredom.

“N-No! I don’t want that!” You finally manage to stutter out, knuckles turning white with the strength you hold onto him. Afraid if you let go in the slightest he will pull away and disappear forever. “I don’t want you to be with other women!”

The silence that follows your confession feels a mile long. 

“Then go put on the dress.” Out of any response there could be, that certainly was not the one you were anticipating. 

“What…?” 

His chin tilts in the direction of it, urging you on, “If that is the truth, then go put on the dress.” 

“I…” You hesitate for only a moment, but scramble to motion once the prince turns to leave once again. 

You make quick paces to your bed, keeping your back to him. You feel his eyes on your back, intent on giving you no privacy to ensure you follow through on his order. 

In fact, all he does is close the door behind you. Making sure no one will be able to see in. No one will be able to watch you save for him. 

You slowly peel off the cotton of your nightgown, trying to appear brave even though his eyes are trained on your form. Even if your slip still remains on, you have never been this uncovered in front of a man before. You feel entirely bare. 

You do not look at him as you finally find your way through the tool, slipping the garment over your head with struggle, yet his face is practically predatory. 

You don’t know his plans, or what he wishes to gain. You never do. 

As the fabric settles over your hips, half of you wants to question how the size is perfect, but you refrain. Too embarrassed by everything else to even consider it an option. Your hands reach behind you to attempt to lace up the back on your own, yet another pair are already present in their place.

When did he get so close? How did he get so close without you hearing a thing? Your heartbeat must be the only sound in your ears, that must be it. 

His fingers work down your spine, tightening the dress so it fits you perfectly. Tying it off with skill you did not know he had. You feel his breath on the back of your neck. A fire begins to grow in your core. 

“I was going to present you to my father tonight.” He admits, placing a gentle kiss to the base of your neck, “The ball was meant to find my bride.” 

“Oh.” Those are the only words you can say when he is so close, arms enclosing around your waist. Pulling your back flush with his chest. 

Only words you can manage at the revelation.

“Imagine his disappointment, more so my own when the girl I had been speaking to him about did not show.” He grunts, almost as if it hurt him. Guiding your body to stand in front of the full mirror in your room. Asking– telling you to look at yourself. 

The sight is strange, yet incredible. The crown prince of the entire nation standing in your bedroom, in the maids quarters. Surrounded by squalor and chaos. Arms wrapped around a maid dressed as if she could be a queen. 

You look up at him to the best of your ability, regret plastered across your features, “Prince Kim–” 

“Taehyung.” 

“--I’m so sorry.” He does not look you in the eyes. They stay trained ahead, not straying once from the mirror. One hand rubbing small circles into the fabric covering your stomach, the other sliding to your waist.

He touches you without care, without reason. Feeling you against him for all that it is worth. 

“Actions have consequences, that is all. They can come later.” He states plainly, “For now I just wish to indulge in you.”

He brings his face down, placing it right next to yours. His hand rises, making your chin face the mirror as well. 

He forces you to make eye contact with him through it, forces you to understand each of his words clearly. 

“You’ll let me do that, won’t you?” 

You take a deep breath, gulping down all the air you can manage. You don’t think you’ve wanted anything more. 

With no more than a nod, his lips are on yours. 

Spinning you around, pressing your back against the mirror. His hands cupping your cheeks with such intensity you fear they may become etched into your skin forever. Keeping your lips closed against his own. 

His body cages you in, pressing entirely against you. Forming against you in perfect harmony, feeling two souls become one. Feeling each other fully for the first time– no pretence or public eye in the way to stop it. 

His teeth nip at your lower lip, biting in a way that has you opening them in pain. He takes the opportunity to lick his way inside, somehow pushing even closer to your body. 

Something hard presses against you and the discovery has your knees wishing to collapse. 

The prince can’t possibly be this big. He simply can’t.

The kiss has you reeling, unsure of anything. Unsure of what to do at all. It is nothing like your first kiss under the cherry tree with Jungkook. That was soft and sweet, docile as two people discover something new.

This, this is nothing of the sort. It is hungry. It is a beast that has been starved, finally getting its first meal. It is intoxicating. It is needy and desperate in a way that has your fingers trying to press themselves even deeper into the glass. It has your breath being robbed. Your lifeforce wilts away to satisfy only the prince. 

The groan he lets out as you finally give into him, finally allow him to take control of the kiss as arousal pools in your gut. It is one of the most deadly siren’s calls you think you’ve ever heard. One that would have any woman throwing themselves overboard for just a taste. 

“Finally,” He grunts, pulling no more than a millilitre away from your lips, wetness still connecting them, “My whole life I’ve been waiting for you.” He mumbles, hungrily connecting his mouth back to your own. 

Before you know it, you’re lost in the man once again. Allowing him to move you, to guide you to your bed without withdrawing from you once. Tangling your fingers into his hair, trying to make sure he doesn’t pull away. Making you drunk off of his taste, off of him. 

When he kisses you like this, you’re not sure you’ll ever be able to live without him. 

Your knees hit the frame of your bed and all of a sudden you're falling backwards onto its plush lining. Panting, trying to regain some of the air he stole from you.

For the first time you’re able to look up at him, to discover the mess that he has become. Cheeks red, lips swollen. Eyes dark and twisted with lust. Hair ruffled messily from where your fingers laid. Shoulders rising and falling with effort as he catches his breath as well. 

He looks gorgeous and you can’t help yourself hoping this will be only a sight for you forever. 

He leans down, pecking your lips once more, “I couldn’t stop myself from imagining this. Since the moment I placed an order for your dress.” 

He huffs, dropping to his knees in front of you. You sit up on your elbows, face twisted into confusion as you look down at him. 

God. It is too dangerous to look at him right now. You know that as another wave of heat runs straight to your core.

“Pushing up the future queen's skirt.” He groans, hands gaining purchase on your hips, pulling you down so your waist sits at the edge of the bed, “Letting myself have a taste of her while everyone else at the party danced.” 

O-Oh. Oh. He sees you as, oh god. 

His fingers bunch in the material of your skirt, drawing in a shaky inhale as he holds onto any drop of sanity left. 

When he sees no hesitation from you, he slowly begins to push the material up your legs. Eyes trained on your own, looking to you for any sign of discomfort. 

“Have her come undone on my tongue while no else was the wiser.” He groans as he finally comes face to face with your panty covered core. 

Your brain moves at a snail's pace, trying to keep up with every tiny movement the prince makes. Trying to process his words while your head becomes fuzzy with your own arousal. 

You feel like mush, so pliable in his grip.

His large hands slowly begin to part your thighs, to look at what he has been craving for so long when your brain catches up with you, embarrassment overcoming your being. 

“Y-You can’t! I-it is dirty to do such a thing.” At least, that is what you had been taught. Though, the look in his eyes and the growl from his throat tells you the opposite.

“You could never be dirty. No part of you could ever be.” The sound he lets out is more akin to an animal than anything else, and suddenly you feel like a schoolgirl. Flustered and embarrassed beyond anything else. 

The muscles of your thighs untense, the look on your face blushed and biting. 

“You will let me?” He asks again, and despite your embarrassment, you nod. He is going to be king… his word is rule afterall. He wishes it, so it will happen. You could not be more pleased to oblige. 

His grip on your thighs is more firm than before, blunt nails digging into soft flesh as he pries your legs apart. He lets a groan resonate from the back of his throat at the sight. Panties sticking to your center, wetness pooling just behind causing the material to almost become transparent before him. 

You did not know it was possible for a man to have such an effect on you. 

Without a second thought, he pushes the material down your thighs. His tongue licking a long stripe up your cunt, savouring the flavour for every cent it is worth. 

He moans at the taste, not wasting a second before he dives back in. Lapping against you like it is his last meal. 

A mewl leaves your lips, too many feelings crossing you at once for any of them to be worth anything. 

Embarrassment, shame, fear all vanish the moment his lips wrap around your clit, sucking against the small bundle of nerves in a manner that has your back arching against the bed. Fingertips digging into the sheets to find a second lease on life. 

You try to look down at him, to find him between all of your small pants of pleasure, however he is gone. Disappearing until the layers of fabric while he brings you sensations you never thought were possible. 

His tongue moves like it is made to pleasure only you. Taking turns flicking your clit to lowering into your center. Licking up any bit of arousal he can make out. Trailing up once again to press flat against the bundle of nerves.

All of it has your legs kicking, your breath melting. 

He is not quiet either, letting you know exactly how much he adores this. Adores the feeling of your thighs wrapped tight around his head. Adores every little sound and reaction you have to give him. Adores the taste of you on his tongue. It was only meant for him.

It feels like he has been wishing to do this far longer than you would ever know. Consuming you whole from the inside out. Causing you to become addicted, to desire him just as much as he carnally craves you.

His nails dig into the flesh of your thighs as your hips begin to rock against his face, seeking out every ounce of pleasure that he is willing to give you. Your adorable mewls and whines grow louder, peaking every time he sucks on your clit. 

A coil has begun to form in your gut, feeling as though it could snap at any second. You wish you could see him, to look at his face and see the crazed gleam in his eyes. Observe the exact look on his face as he licks your cunt. 

You try to picture it. Try to imagine the way he would look up at you from between your legs. The dark umber his eyes would become, the gentle circles he would rub into your thigh as you finally make eye contact. 

Your walls clench around his tongue, sending a new waves of whines out of your mouth. He somehow moves faster, more precisely with every movement. Like he is able to hone in on the exact things that have your thighs quivering. 

His tongue moves up, takes your small, worn clit into his mouth. Alternating between sucking against it, flicking at it, and pressing against it firm with the flat of his tongue. 

Without warning, nor any reprise, one of his thick fingers is thrust into your wet heat. Filling you in a way you have never been able to do to yourself. Stretching you. And all of a sudden, you’re flying off the edge of a precipice.

“Prince Kim!” Your back arches off of the bed, head thrown back against the mattress as you let out a moan. Your hips jolt, cunt squeezing around his fingers, heels digging into the floor as you come undone before him. 

He works you through it with ease and grace, finger slowly thrusting in and out. Tongue firmly planted against your clit to ride you through your high. 

It would not be your last of the night. He must be gentle. 

Slowly, you relax against the bed, chest heaving from exertion. He pulls away from you, standing to full height before leaning over your shaking form. 

Your arousal coats his face, a sheen from his lips and chin evident against the soft yellow glow of the room. He looks down at you, concern and adoration written across his features. Though in his eyes, it appears that the beast has yet to be quelled. 

He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. You taste yourself against them. 

“You are delicious. I wish to eat you every night until I die.” He mumbles against your lips, his knee sliding between your legs. Muscle pressing against your swollen cunt. 

You try to flinch away, yet the hand on your hip keeps you in place. 

He will not have you running away. 

Not now. 

Your cheeks flush at his words, wide eyes looking up at him like he is all that matters. 

He is. 

He presses his knee further against your pussy while his lips trail down the column of your neck. Urging you towards the headboard with no words spoken until your head is against the pillows. 

Your arms wind their way around his neck, keeping him in place, “I-if we were married, I would let you.” You manage to speak, your voice shaky.

He only smiles in reply. Fingers digging deeper into your waist as if he is holding himself back.

“Then we shall call this practice for our wedding night.” He smiles, sitting back on his heels. 

Marriage, wedding night. You allow the thought to ghost through your mind, willing it to be reality. 

He smiles down at you, taking note in the way you seem to gleam at the idea. A small chuckle leaves his lips, you really are too cute for your own good. 

His voice is no more than a whisper, forcing you to stay enrapt, “You will let me, right?” He asks, eyes glancing down to where his pants strain against his hips, “I wish to make love to my future wife.”

Your mouth practically waters at the sight, his hard cock pressed taught against the expensive material. You swear there may even be a wet spot where his cum has leaked through. 

Your pussy clenches, wanting nothing more for him to find his way inside. For him to claim you for himself. Destroy you so no other man can have you in the same way.

You struggle against yourself for no more than a moment, but the way his hand reaches down, grips at his cock. Brushes his thumb over the surface has you moaning in want. 

“Please.” 

He smiles, the motion following swift. All at once his hands unbutton his pants, pushing the material down his thighs just enough for his cock to spring free. He groans at the feeling, thick length hitting his stomach. Pretty pre-cum dripping down the side.

Your eyes go wide. If you imagined him to be large before, seeing it now looked impossible. He is thick, long. Far too big to ever hope to fit inside of you. 

But the desperate groan in his voice, the hungry look in his eyes only has you spreading your legs. Wishing nothing more than for him to destroy you.

One hand wraps around the base as he moves closer, the other forcing the skirt of your dress as high as it will allow. He makes space for himself in between your thighs, slotting himself in. Ready to do what he has been waiting years for. 

Not yet.

He sees the hesitation in your eyes, the worry. So he leans down, planting a gentle, soothing kiss to your lips. One filled with years of time behind it. 

He knows he must be careful with you. Knows all of his patience will have been worth it when he is finally able to take your virginity. 

“Will it hurt?” You as quietly, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to keep him close. You find comfort in him. Find a sense of safety within his eyes. 

He nods in response, “Only for a little while, I promise.” He mumbles against your lips, placing a soft kiss against them once more. 

He slowly rubs the fat head between your folds, coating himself in your arousal. Your hips buck slightly in response, and he can’t help but smirk. 

So sensitive. So ready for him. 

As much as he wants to be rough, he can’t. He can’t scare you away just yet. 

He looks into your eyes once more, “Ready?” He asks, giving you one final chance to back out. You only nod your head, pulling him close, hiding your face in his neck. 

His head catches on your opening with the final drag of his length through your lips. His hands practically shake in excitement, as he guides himself inside. Letting go only once the tip is buried within your walls. 

He feels your teeth sink into his coat, your body burning with the stretch of him. He only has the first inch inside, yet you think it is more than you could possibly take. 

A choked cry leaves your lips as he continues to slowly thrust inside. Your arms cling to him as tight as possible. Tears prick in the corner of your eyes as he fills you, forming your entire body just around him. Just around his cock. 

He pauses only once half of his cock is buried in your needy cunt. You feel his hand come up to caress your cheek, to bring you back down to reality from the pain you feel digging at your core. Trying to bring you some sense of comfort. 

You pull back from his shoulder to look him in the eyes, expecting to see them soft. Filled with concern. Though there is nothing of the sort there. 

Behind his bangs is only the look of pure insanity. 

Though he tries to be compassionate, he really does.

“Are you doing okay?” His voice is strangled, coming out in only desperate cracks. He shakes, wanting nothing more than to fuck himself inside. Fuck himself deeper and deeper, until your cunt is shaped for his cock alone.

But he holds restraint. Just enough.

The way he looks at you, the way he speaks has a wave of pleasure rushing through your  skin. Your walls clamp around him, tightening even more. 

He is falling apart before you, because of you. 

He has gone mad because of you.

The feeling only makes you want to urge him on. See just how far the prince can fall.

You nod your head, looking at him with all the affections in the world, “Don’t stop.” 

He groans at your words, mind losing itself as he snaps his hips forward, forcing his cock inside until his hips are firm against your own. Teeth digging into the fragile skin of your neck.

You cry out in pain, your walls squeezing around him in shock. Pain coursing through your entire system as you are filled to the brim. Walls stretched as wide as humanly possible. The head of cock so deep inside you swear you can feel it in your lungs. 

“Shit.” He groans, mouth falling open, “This pretty thing is wrapped around me so tight, lamb. So fucking tight I can’t think.” 

He slowly tries to move his hips, though you only shout in response. Your legs wrap around his back, doing their utmost to keep him in place.

“Hurts!” You whine, shaking your head quickly. 

Fucking hell. What is the point of a pussy as sweet as your own if he can’t use it properly?

His hand moves between your legs, growl of impatience slipping past his lips as his fingers find your clit. They work with urgency, with need. Rubbing tight circles into it, trying to get you to feel the same pleasure he does.

You whine, overstimulated. Shots fired in all directions leaving you messy and confused. 

With every circle, a mewl sounds from your throat. Slowly your legs behind him loosen, the pain from before mixing with pleasure to become something wonderful. Something that has you whimpering for him to not stop. 

“See?” He grunts, slowly slipping out of your heat until only the tip remains, “We were made for each other.” 

He forces his cock back inside, fucking you open just for him. Only ever for him. 

Your nails dig into his back, heels digging into the mattress as you moan for him. As your cunt becomes addicted to the feeling of him filling you so perfectly. Addicted to everything he has to offer.

He moves too fast, too hard for you to even hope to keep up with. Hips pistoning into you, forcing you to take everything he has to give and more. Forcing you to be the perfect little doll for him, give him all the pleasure he can want and more. White mixing with red around the base of his cock.

Your back arches off the mattress to try and get closer to him, to try and keep up with him in any hope of the sentiment. Hips trying their best to keep him as close and as deep as possible, knowing they crave one thing and one thing alone.

“Prince Kim!” You moan, yet he growls in response. A sharp slap to your thigh sounds throughout the room as his hips pause, fingers removing themselves from your clit. 

“That isn’t my name to you anymore.” His voice is low, menacing in your ear. One more poke of the bear and you will be punished. “Tae–Hyung.” 

He emphasises the words with a sharp thrust of his hips, one that brushes against the bundle inside of you. One that leaves you crying out for him. Clinging on to him. 

“Say it.” He grunts, animalistic and desperate. Yet you’re too lost in yourself to realise how debauched he’s become. Looking less and less like a man, more like a demon come to lay waste to your soul. 

That is close enough to the truth, anyway.

“Say it until it becomes the only word you know. Every question I ask, every time I fuck myself into this sweet little cunt. Your only reply should be my name.” He grabs your chin, forcing you to stare at him. 

Your fucked out little features as you bob your head in compliance.

“I-I” You swallow, trying to understand his words as he pounds away at your core, “I understand!” 

He smiles, almost proud of the work he has done today.

His hips only move impossibly faster, impossibly harder in a way that has that knot in your gut tightening once more. 

“We’ll start simple then. What is my name?” He asks, angling his hips to press against your sweet spot with ever slight movement. Breathe panting, his mind falling deeper and deeper into the thralls of your body. 

“P-Prin–” You stop yourself, a pinch coming down on your skin, “Taehyung!” 

He groans, almost coming undone as he hears your name fall from your  lips for the very first time. The pretty sound your voice makes with every letter. 

It could be the only thing he hears for the rest of his life.

“Who are you going to marry?” 

You whine, your head thrashing around slightly. He smiles. You must really enjoy the idea of that, huh?

“T-Taehyung!” You manage to stutter out again, feeling your release coming closer and closer as the seconds pass by. 

“Who is the man you have fallen for?” The answer to the question is easy, especially when he is fucking into you like you’re the only woman that matters. Nothing matters except for him. 

“Taehyung!” Your brain is too fuzzy to process anything else. Anything other than the way his cock fills you. Anything other than the one word he told you is your gospel. 

“Who is the boy that kissed you under the cherry tree?” You don’t even know anymore. 

Does any man exist beside Taehyung anyway? You doubt it.

“Taehyung!” He smiles into your neck. 

“Who was the boy that was going to have you killed? That saved your life?” His words don’t process through your ears, yet you know what you are meant to say anyway.

“Taehyung!” He groans, his hips stuttering, losing their pace ever so slightly. 

“Who do you belong to?” 

“Taehyung!” You whine, your thighs shaking. The coil so tight you think you may just die if it doesn’t come undone in this very moment. 

His breath is quiet, only a rough whisper in your ear, “Cum.” 

Just as your king commands, you fall apart around him. White dots in the corner of your eyes as you clamp down around him, your legs pulling him close. A cry of his name leaving your lungs as if it is the very air you breathe. 

You feel him paint the inside of your walls white, his hips stuttering– fucking himself as deep into you as he could possibly manage. If you had any sense left in your little head you would have told him to pull out, yet your brain is so high. Filled with pleasure that only Taehyung can provide. 

Waves of arousal crash around you as he slows his hips, ensuring that you ride out your orgasm to its fullest before pulling away. You wish he could stay buried inside of you, just like that. Yet you doubt that would be very wise. 

“Was that good for you, little lamb?” He asks, slowly helping you into a sit. You’re not sure how to properly answer– mouth feeling dry. Your head has not yet come crashing back down, though that is probably a good thing. 

Facing reality is too scary right now. Especially when Taehyung is so warm. So caring as he removes your dress. Slips your nightgown back over your soiled body. 

“Very…” You nod, unable to take your eyes off of him as he moves around the bed. Tucking himself back into his pants, removing his shirt and dress-coat. Placing them over the back of a chair. Neatly hanging the dress on a hook, taking care that it is not damaged in any way.

Your arms find themselves reaching out to him, trying to pull him closer to you. He smiles once he takes notice.

“Would you like me to stay the night?” It is clear he was already planning on it, but hearing the words make you smile oh-so bright. 

“Yes, please.” You nod quickly, eyes already feeling tired. You did not know how he had so much energy, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. Right now he is meant to be in your bed, arms around you. In fact, you become annoyed that he isn’t already. 

“Alright.” He smiles, slipping next to your form. Wrapping his arms around you, pulling you as close as possible.

You feel so safe. So warm with him. So protected that you can’t stop yourself from falling asleep.

“Goodnight my lamb.”

The Kim Empire. 

His home, his family, his livelihood all wrapped up in those three little words.

Yet, the only thoughts that seem to brandish his mind since the young age of 15 are about you. 

When you first stumbled in front of him, carrying a tray of tea. Spilling it all over his shoes. That quick curse that left your lips before looking up at him. The wide, doelike vision you had once recognition had set in. One the realisation of error set into your bones.

He will never forget the way his heart began to race in that very moment. The way he felt a cloth of sickness overcome his whole body at the mere sight of you. Looking so serendipitous below him.

At first he thought it was hate, how silly he had been back then. Ah, the way he sent you to be killed was just funny to him now. He is grateful he talked to his mother before your execution date. Spilling his soul to her, detailing how he could not seem to remove you from his brain.

Ah, he was lucky he managed to get the letter to the executioner in time. What a pity that would be if he couldn’t. Then he wouldn’t have been able to lay next to you now. Wouldn’t be able to play with your hair, caress you like he pleases. 

It is truly too bad that was not his only trial on the road towards you. It was really a pity he had to send Jungkook away. Taehyung quite liked the kid. He was fun to play with and wouldn’t shy away from his games. 

But he just had to try and seduce you. Poor thing. You really were too innocent at the time. More than eager to kiss him for no reason. To give him even a peace of your heart that was meant for Taehyung alone.

He remembers as clear as day, the rage he felt as he watched your soft lips press against another mans. How terribly he wanted to go out and strike Jungkook with a sword. Of course he didn’t though, that would have scared you away. He would have hated that.

He thanks god every day he was really your first kiss, even if you didn’t know it. 

Patiences was the hardest battle of all, and he will admit, he has faltered a few times over the years. Kisses stolen while you sleep, a few of your belongings robbed to keep him satiated. Mayhaps a few trips to your room in the night. 

But who could blame him? He was a man in love. There was nothing that could stop him when he was so hungry for you. 

Ah, and then of course his father. He wanted to separate your love as well. A maid could never possibly be suited to be queen, blah blah. He doesn’t care. And at least that fight allowed him to hug you for the first time. 

God. You felt so perfect in his arms, then and now. You have always been meant for this. Meant for him.

If his father plans to keep standing in the way, he will simply have to remove him from the equation. His bonds to the man are as thick as water. He cares more for you than he possibly could anyone else.

You’ve belonged to him since you were born, anyway. If a maid becomes pregnant while working for the castle, her child becomes property of the state. Of the crown. Of him. 

It only makes sense that you are meant to be with him until death. It is the path lined for you. Your fate since birth. 

He knows it as his delicate fingers trace over the small patches of blood dirtying the sheets. Evidence of the hours before, of your virginity robbed. Of your promises to him.

You are bound to him by blood after all.

© all rights reserved to ctrlhope 2019-2024 ; do not copy, plagiarise, or translate.

[borathae]

↳ Index [Day 11 - Mommy Kink]

Pairing: Good Boy!Taehyung x Mommy Dom!Reader

Genre: married life!AU, new parents!AU, CEO!Taehyung

Kinks: sex on the living room sofa, praise kink, nursing handjob, her breasts still produce milk, breast & nipple massage, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering with three fingers, squirting, he eats it uppp, he spits on her pussy to lube her, multiple orgasms for both, sensitive pussy, deep creampie, talks about getting pregnant again, she kneels on the couch so he can fuck her doggy, he is frozen in pleasure and gets used as her pretty dildo <3, suit kink, she holds his tie, gentle hair holding, drooling, he bites her shoulder because of too much pleasure, subby boy tears, he is deep in subspace, giggly aftercare

Wordcount: 5.6k

a/n: rope inspo. i wanna start my notes by telling you guys do not expect regular pregnancy content on the blog at all. this is solely for kinktober cause we can be unhinged together. idk what happened but the thought of him helping her get rid of the swelling of her tits did something in me 😶 it was sexy for this story and in this context, but it’s not gonna be something regular on here. okay? okay. now that this is out of the way, here you go anon you finally have your ihyily!tae mommy kink story and it’s very sexy omfg it's so sexy holy fuck idk how to go on from now on 😩 have fun reading, i genuinely was so into it as i wrote it fajdsjf it's so hot holy fuck

Taehyung has been coming home late again. Since the birth of your daughter, he has reduced his hours at work to spend quality time with the family he always dreamed of. Until last week. A huge project has been keeping him in his office until the evening and it has been weighing him down. Not only because it is very stressful to work ten, sometimes more, hours per day but also because it means that he has to stay away from his family. Taehyung hates it. He hates it so, so much, but can’t do anything about it. 

The only thing he can do is be grumpy about it and oh how grumpy he is tonight. He takes off his shoes and coat with a big pout and puts his office bag on the dresser groggily. 

He doesn’t call out for you because it is already late and he doesn’t want to risk waking you. 

You are staying at home entirely for now, enjoying your time with the baby as much as possible. It is difficult and exhausting work, draining you so much that you always end up already fast asleep when Taehyung comes home. Which is another reason why Taehyung hates working late. He doesn’t get to see you all fucking day, can’t eat dinner with you, play with his daughter, let alone talk to you. When he leaves for work, you are still sleeping and when he comes home you are already sleeping. Taehyung hates working long hours and he hates this stupid project and the loneliness he feels. 

He goes straight upstairs, wanting to check in on you before he eats a sad, lonely dinner all alone and sad and alone and sad on the couch. He hates working long hours. 

Taehyung opens the bedroom door carefully, using the light of the hallway to check on your sleeping figure. Except that the bed is empty. 

“Darling?”

The room stays silent. He closes the door and scratches his head in confusion. Where did you go? Taehyung thinks of any possible location in the house, remembering the nursery last. Bear with him, he is very groggy from work. 

He makes his way to the nursery, eyes flitting to the faint lights instantly. He was correct. He increases his steps, heart fluttering unbearably. He hasn’t talked to you in days and now he finally gets the chance. Taehyung feels like a giddy boy who knows he can talk to his crush soon. 

He feels actually lost for air and words when he lays eyes on you.

You are wearing a mint green satin slip with a matching floor-length rope. Delicate lace frames the edges of the garments and little diamonds in the lace glimmer in the dim lights. You aren’t wearing any makeup and your hair is unstyled. Taehyung has never felt so in love with you before, gazing at you as you whisper-sing to your baby daughter. 

She is already sleeping soundly in her crib. You must have come in here to check up on her. 

Taehyung loves you so much. He will take any amount of stress if it means that he can come home to you looking like this. Like the mother of his daughter and the love of his life.

“Darling, I’m home”, he speaks softly.

You lift your head, features instantly lighting up.

“I haven’t heard your voice in days. Tae darling, welcome home”, you say, closing the distance in hasty steps.

Taehyung meets you in the middle with stretched out arms, grasping your soft waist in sync with you grasping his shoulders. You kiss. You kiss like two lovers finally reunited after being separated. You kiss as if you had worried to never see each other again. The kiss ends with Taehyung squeezing your butt softly and you twirling his tie.

“I missed you”, you confess.

“I missed you too. You’re beautiful, darling.”

“You think so? I already had to change because our princess threw up on me.”

“Oh god, I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

“Mhm, it was nasty at first, but I’m okay.” You scratch your fingers over his undercut at the nape of his neck. “I’m more than okay now that you’re home”, you say, smiling at him goofily. 

Taehyung’s heart flutters. He can’t help but giggle and poke your cheek with his nose.

“Stop flirting with me.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m shy.”

“That’s why I’m doing it. It’s fun and mommy’s gotta get her entertainment in.”

You are jokingly referring to yourself as mommy, but Taehyung feels tingly because of it nonetheless. His heart skips multiple beats and his knees are wobbly for just a second. Holy moly.

You sigh in contentment, oblivious to his state.

“We should be talking outside. We don’t wanna wake her.” 

“Right. Did mommy put her to sleep already?” he asks to play into the joke, but also to taste the sweetness of the words on his tongue.

You snicker, leading him out of the nursery with your arm around his waist.

“Yeah, mommy did”, you say, closing the door tightly. 

“You’re the best mommy”, Taehyung says, almost moaning the words. He gulps, looking to the side in panic when you don’t notice. He opens his tie a little, taking a deep breath. What is happening to him? Has he really been away from you for long enough that the mere playfulness is enough to turn him on? Is it the arm around him? The hand on his waist? The fingers which played with his tie? Is it your outfit or your natural beauty? Or is it this fucking word? Innocent but tonight it tastes sinful on his tongue. Taehyung doesn’t understand what is happening to him, but he can’t stop it. He craves to be close to you.

“But enough about me. How was your day, darling?” you ask him, oblivious to his racing thoughts. 

“Me? I”, he clears his throat. “Good, I mean, I don’t know. Kinda shit.”

You and he have reached the living room, sitting down on the couch together. You pull your legs up, turning to him so you are facing him. Taehyung glances for a second, having to swallow harshly. You aren’t wearing any panties. You are accidentally exposing yourself to him in this position. You move your arm, flinging the rope over your crotch mindlessly. The view disappears, but Taehyung is left with a scrambled mind. 

You scoot closer and weave your fingers through his styled hair. Taehyung shivers, eyes closing halfway as he gazes at you.

“I’m sorry to hear that you had a shitty day, darling. Do you wanna talk about it?” you ask in a soft and caring voice, eyes focused solely on him. 

Taehyung swears he might whimper any second now. 

“I just have so much to do. I guess, it’s been weighing me down”, he says.

“Of course it has. You’ve been working long hours lately. I was already worried for you.”

“It sucks”, he confesses honestly and pouts, “I only see you two when you’re sleeping, I don’t get to eat dinner with you or talk to you. I’ve been so lonely lately.”

“No, I’m sorry you feel this way. Gosh come here you”, you say and get on your knees to hug him. Your soft, swollen breasts squeeze against his chest. Taehyung takes in nothing else for just a second before his situation sinks in and he melts into your embrace. He buries his face in your neck, eyes closing and arms wrapping around you. You smell so good. He wanted to hold you like this for days. Just with this one hug you heal him of any kind of loneliness he felt and rid him of any pain he ever felt. 

“I’m here now, darling and I’m proud of you. You’ve been working so hard, I just wanna tell you that I’m proud of you.”

Taehyung tears up a little, squeezing you against him. 

“Thank you”, he whimpers. Not many people told him that they were proud of him in the past, but you always do. He always soaks up the praise like a greedy sponge. It feels so good to know that you are proud of him.

“Are you crying?” you gasp.

“No, just finally feeling good. I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too”, you say and snicker which lets Taehyung know that you are going to crack a joke next. “Mommy missed you, darling.” 

You giggle mischievously, but Taehyung can’t see any humour in it. He feels fucked, pounded, railed, totally ruined just from this one sentence. If you took him, ripped his clothes off and fucked him violently right here and now, it would basically be the same thing. 

Taehyung twists the fabric of your rope and presses his lips against your soft neck.

“Mommy”, he whimpers. 

You tense up, smile dropping in shock. You know this voice. This is his sub drop voice. Your entire body tingles in realisation, heart skipping way too many beats. Damn your post pregnancy body, you are leaking already.

You test the waters carefully by humming a sound of acknowledgement, holding your breath. 

“Mommy, please take care of me.”

“What?” you breathe. 

Taehyung mewls and kisses your neck sloppily, long fingers digging into the silky fabric of your rope. You sigh, body going up in flames instantly. So this is how his neck kisses feel like. It has been too long since you last felt them.

Taehyung isn’t the only one who has been going a little crazy ever since he is home. You are just a woman and he is the hottest man ever. His dark styled hair, his styled eyebrows, his pretty eyes and his slim, sculpted body in a tailored suit; all of it has been doing their effects on you. You haven’t seen him in days, except in pictures and your dreams, so seeing him tonight all ruffled and ruined from work is doing things to you. His kiss makes you greedy, his body in your fingers almost mad. Feeling his perfect hands roam your torso and his soft lips kiss your neck is doing the rest. 

You are just a woman and he is a man, who knows exactly how to turn you on. 

Taehyung lifts his lips from your neck, brushing them against the shell of your ear.

“I’m going insane. You are so soft, Mommy. So soft”, he whispers and whimpers, tugging on your rope needily. 

You shed it off with a skilled touch, basking in his reaction. He moans, kissing your newly exposed shoulders while his hands grasp your upper back. They are so big and feel so warm. 

He shudders, exhaling shakily.

“Mommy, oh god…”

“Are you okay, baby?” 

“No, I’m feeling so submissive to you. I can’t think straight”, he gets out in a slightly pitched voice. 

“Shit, you’re sexy. Should Mommy take care of you, mhm?”

Taehyung moans, legs squeezing together needily. His cock is twitching in his slacks, soaking the fabric a little. You are into this as well. You are playing into his fantasy. 

“Please”, he begs, needing you like air.

“Mhm, okay. Lie down on my lap, yeah?” 

“Yes, Mommy.” 

You and he get into position. You sit on the sofa with your feet on the ground and he lies his head onto your lap. You caress his hair, smiling down at him.

“There we go. Are you comfy, my pretty boy?”

He nods his head, gazing up at you with a droopy head. He is so deep in subspace right now. So, so deep.

“I love to hear this. You’ve been working so hard, have been so stressed out. Let Mommy make it better again, okay?”

“Yes, Mommy”, he whimpers, falling even deeper.

“And you gotta help me out too. My tits are killing me tonight, they’re so heavy. Can you help me?” 

“Yes please”, he begs, barely seeing you at this point because you are scrambling his brain to the point of a blurry vision.

You smile at him and reach up to tug down the straps of your gown. The silky fabric slips down instantly, exposing your plumped up tits to him. 

Taehyung moans, fucking the air. 

“Go on, they’re all yours.”

Taehyung gathers them in his shaking hands and goes down on them with an open mouth. He trembles, eyes filling with tears. Your nipples are so swollen, sitting heavily on his tongue. He didn’t even realise how much he missed your breasts in his mouth until now. He whimpers, falling oh so deep into subspace that he won’t be able to escape anytime soon. 

You groan in relief, rolling your head back and parting your lips. Your tits were killing you. Even the mere fabric of your dress was painful against your nipples and your skin feels so stretched to its limits. Taehyung’s wet, warm mouth feels like pure heaven. He releases you of so much tension, so much pressure and so much pain that you could honestly cry. 

Taehyung is on a high, running on nothing but your sweet taste. He can’t decide on which side to stay, switching between them over and over again as he gets absolutely lost in you with tears down his cheeks and his cock hurting in his grey slacks. 

You take care of his big (quite literally) problem. With barely open eyes you watch your own hand as you open his belt and slacks with. Taehyung is too lost to notice. He also doesn’t notice when you push the flap of his briefs to the side. He does notice when you take his cock out however.

You pick up a pace instantly, fingers pumping him quickly. 

He sits up slightly in shock, head tilted back and messy mouth agape in a surprised moan. His eyes are widened, staring up at you.

“That feels nice, doesn’t it?” you ask him, massaging his heated tip.

Taehyung keens, spilling tears. It feels amazing. Your hand is so warm and so soft. Your touch is placed with so much love. He missed you so much and it feels so good. 

“Of course it does. Relax, yeah? Mommy is gonna relieve you of your pressure too, yeah?”

“Mommy”, he whimpers, dropping on your lap to bury himself back in your soft tits. He takes your nipple into his mouth, sucking hungrily. His cock throbs in your fingers, spilling excitement down his shaft. 

You pick it up, using it to jerk him off from the base to his tip. You are spilling down his throat too, feeling on cloud nine from the relief.

“Good boy, that feels amazing”, you praise him. You pick up speed, moving your hand up and down his entire shaft. Now that you finally have him again, you are going to make sure to memorise every single inch of him. Just in case he goes missing again. 

Taehyung whimpers, kicking the pillows. His mouth is so eager in how he sucks your nipples. You are getting so much pleasure from it that it is difficult not to moan each word you speak.

“Good boy, my good boy. You’re doing so well for Mommy.”

He can’t really describe how he feels right now, but he knows that he doesn’t want to leave this headspace. He feels safe, that much is sure. He feels horny and pleasured, of course that is a given. But in a sense, he also feels high and far away.  

This isn’t the first time that he gets to help you relieve your breasts of pressure. There is only so much your daughter can eat and only so much you can pump before it gets too much. Taehyung read in some of his countless pregnancy books that some wives like it when their husbands relieve them of the excess milk. He talked to you about it, you tried it and both loved it.

You because it genuinely helps with the soreness and pain and because he is so eager in his feast. Taehyung loves it because he gets to help you and be a good husband. His biggest fear is to end up being like his father, so when he gets to make you happy and help you instead of making you cry, very deep wounds heal on his heart. He loves it because he gets to be a good husband, he gets to be with you and share intimacy with you. And because you taste good.

You taste especially good tonight, making his head pound. Every single fiber in his body is submissive right now, charged in electricity because your touches feel really good.

Taehyung sobs, writhing on the sofa in his very distinct way which lets you know that he is going to orgasm way too soon. You spill on the couch because of it. He is so excited that he needs to climax. What a perfect boy he is.

“Do you wanna cum? Is Mommy making you cum?” you ask him, hand restless around his veiny shaft. 

Taehyung sobs again, kicking his feet helplessly. His cock is so hot and swollen between your fingers, you fear that it might burst like a balloon soon. He is so perfect. 

“You do? Then cum for me, okay? Cum for Mommy”, you encourage him, pumping his tip quickly.

Taehyung whimpers loudly, fulfilling your wish. He arches off the pillows, fingers dimpling your back as he grips you for support. His cock throbs angrily, shooting his cum all over his shirt and tie. 

He sobs into you. He was in so much agony, he felt so bad and stressed and lonely. He was so sad. All of this built up in his stomach as painful pressure and you are releasing him off it. This one orgasm is healing him and it feels so good that he has to sob.

You moan with him, soaking up the view like a starved woman. You missed him so much. You missed how he shakes and writhes. You missed how his cock is so pretty when it squirts cum. And you missed how he is gripping whatever he gets a hold of.

“You’re so pretty when you cum. So pretty for Mommy”, you coo, pumping his tip needily. You know that he isn’t climaxing anymore, but you need more. So much more.  

Taehyung reaches down hastily, pushing you away. He has had enough. You let off of him, caressing his twitching thighs instead. You need more, but need to hold back. It is so difficult. You want him so bad.

“Good boy, my good boy”, you praise him, trying to sound as normal as possible.

He pants and gulps for a few moments, clearly needing time to get back to you. His eyes open first, glassy and foggy they stare up at you.

“I’m sorry”, he croaks.

“For what?”

“I came too quickly. I didn’t mean to.”

“That’s okay, baby. Did you enjoy yourself?”

“Yes, so much”, he pouts, “thank you, Mommy.” 

“Hm, you’re welcome, cutie”, you say and boop his nose with a snicker.

He soaks up the sound like an addict, gazing up at you. He loves you so much. 

“I don’t want this to end”, he confesses. 

“Me neither, but you’re soft.”

“I’ll eat you out, please.”

You writhe, biting down on your lower lip. You whimper your consent, nodding your head. 

Taehyung rolls off the couch, not bothering to stuff his cock inside his slacks nor to clean up. He falls right between your legs, kneeling between them like a worshiper would before his goddess. He gazes up at you, drooling at this point.

“I saw your pussy when you sat down”, he confesses, eyes switching between your face and your exposed tits. They’re wet because his sucking made them leaky. 

“Sorry?” you gasp.

“Your pussy. You’re not wearing any panties. I saw.”

“You did?” 

“Yes, Mommy”, he whimpers.

“Well fuck”, you chuckle and open your legs, tugging the dress up your butt so you were completely exposed, “no need to hide then.”

Taehyung groans, tongue dripping drool as he gawks at you like a hungry dog. 

“Whenever you’re read-” 

He interrupts you by burying his face in your pussy with a hungry growl. He doesn’t waste any time going slow, lapping up your sweet nectar greedily. 

You moan, dropping your head on the edge of the backrest and burying your hand in his hair. You lift your legs, placing them over his shoulders. He supports them by wrapping his arms around them, hands spreading out on your inner thighs. 

“That’s it, holy fuck”, you moan, toes curling in ecstasy. You have been incredibly sensitive ever since you gave birth. One night you even confessed to him that you worried something was wrong with you because his touch felt so good to you. Taehyung called a doctor the next day who told him that this could happen and shouldn’t be reason for concern unless it becomes uncomfortable. When Taehyung then proceeded to ask what he could do to help, the doctor told him that the answer would be inappropriate but that Taehyung knows exactly what to do as your husband and to do it right. You laughed so hard when he confessed the phone call to you and how the doctor basically told him to just fuck you right. But that night, you soon couldn’t laugh anymore when Taehyung followed the doctor’s orders and fucked you so goddamn right. 

Ever since then, Taehyung has been practically insane in his skills, regularly bringing you to the point of a liquid brain and a wobbly body. Tonight is no different. He uses his entire mouth on your pussy, switching between licking and sucking every inch of you. He also switches between your clit and your folds, sometimes lingering on your entrance as well. 

“Tae more”, you beg during a moment he pulls his tongue away from your leaking hole. He lifts his head for a moment, checking for consent. You are blissed out, leaky tits heaving up and down and face glowing in bliss. Taehyung moans. 

He looks back at your pussy, gathering his saliva so he could spit on you. He picks up the slick, stuffing it into your pussy a moment later as he buries three of his fingers inside your swollen walls. You arch off the sofa, twisting his hair just enough that there is a tug present but no pain. Taehyung doesn’t like pain and you never disrespect this limit, even if he is currently making you see stars.

“Holy fuck Taeeeee….” 

Taehyung connects his sloppy mouth with your clit again, fucking his fingers out of you vigorously.

You practically curl up into a ball, thighs against your chest and ankles crossed. He is too good. You can’t handle the pleasure any other way.

“I can’t breathe, Mommy”, he lulls against you.

“Fuck, sorry, ahm.”

Weakly, you unravel yourself again, putting your feet on his shoulders and your own hands on his own thighs to force your legs to stay open. You grip your own flesh a second later when Taehyung fucks his fingers into you quickly, flicking his tongue over your clit just as quickly. He moans as he does it, forcing a loud noise of pleasure out of you. 

Your toes grip his shoulders, your nails leave imprints on your thighs. 

“Holy fuck, holy fuck, holy fuck”, you chant, seeing entire galaxies. 

Taehyung mewls and growls, spitting on his fingers hastily before his tongue dances on your clit again. The slip is so wet and messy. He doesn’t have his palm facing up, but sideways, allowing his long fingers to go so deep that you honestly feel stuffed to the brim. 

You can’t do this. Taehyung isn’t the only one who had too much pressure built up in his stomach. 

“I’m cumming”, you croak, breaking apart a second later. “Tae! Ah!”

Taehyung moans, swallowing your orgasm hungrily. He moves his fingers and tongue just right, helping you ride out the blissful warmth until you tell him to stop.

With shaking knees, he climbs onto the couch again. You don’t change position, letting him kneel on the pillow with one leg while the other was still on the floor. 

You kiss messily, sloppily. He tastes like your squirt, you taste like bliss. You are both gone, moaning and gulping each other up as best as possible. Going days without talking nor seeing each other was torture. Going even longer without sex is literally the reason why you are acting like animals right now. 

“I need you to fuck me”, you break the kiss, hands on the nape of his neck. 

“Yes, Mommy. Please.”

“Good boy, do it.”

Taehyung nods his head vigorously and stands up. He takes off his pants and briefs, but keeps his ruined shirt on. You get into position in the meantime, kneeling on the couch with your stomach against the backrest and your butt facing him. 

He moans at the view but doesn’t acknowledge it any further because he is too needy for you. You look at him over your shoulder, grabbing his tie to tug him closer.

“You’re mine. Mommy’s pretty boy.”

“Holy fuck, Mommy”, he moans, spilling submissive tears. His chest melts with your back, his arms cage you in as he lets you pull him into a kiss. His right hand is on your stomach at first, caressing it, but soon slips to your exposed tits to knead them eagerly. He has one knee on the sofa and the other foot on the floor. You moan and mewl, tongue kissing him back eagerly while your left hand dances down to align his newly hardened cock with your dripping pussy. Once he is, you push your hips back, swallowing him whole. 

The kiss breaks because Taehyung broke it in a submissive moan, swollen lips pressing against your cheek. 

“That’s it. Filling up Mommy so well…”

“Mommy…”

“So pretty, you sound so pretty when you call me that.”

He bottoms out. You instantly begin rutting into him, fucking his cock fast and sloppily.

His right hand slips from your tits, gripping the backrest as well. His normally deep voice comes out a high-pitched whimper, face dropping into the crook of your shoulder. 

He drives you mad. You drop your head to the front, twisting his grey tie. It feels so good to fuck yourself on him. He is such a good dildo. The way his cock curves is so perfect for positions like tonight’s. You are getting stimulated at the deepest spots, making you wish that he could fucking live in you. 

Taehyung is a mess behind you, drooling on your shoulder and spilling constant tears of pleasure. He knew that he missed you, that the long hours in his lonely office made him needy, but he wasn’t aware of how bad it actually was. He knows that he should be moving his hips right now, but he can’t. He is frozen in too much pleasure, reduced to serve as your dildo to fuck yourself on as he tries not to pass out in the process.

“Good boy, good fucking boy. Mommy’s good boy”, you chant, riding on a literal high. 

“Mommyyy”, he keens, throbbing inside you. 

“Soo good. Touch my clit.”

Taehyung obeys, moaning with you as you tighten around his cock.

“Good boy, ah!” you throw your head back, fucking him faster. The position you find yourself in, makes your tits naturally hang over the edge of the sofa. They are hurting from not being touched.

“Actually, changed my mind. Touch my fucking tits. They’re so heavy.”

Taehyung obeys instantly, holding your swollen tits in his big hands. 

“Good boy. Fuck yes, hold Mommy’s heavy tits. Fuck baby…”

Taehyung bites your shoulder, hips stuttering as your words make them work against his will. No wonder he got you pregnant. Taehyung always forgets how good you are at sex and how much power you have over him until he is balls deep inside you and you literally ruin him. No wonder you managed to get yourself pregnant on him, when you fuck like this it is bound to happen that Taehyung nuts in you as deep as his seed can go and it actually fucking works. There is no way around it. 

“Mommy, it’s too much”, he sobs.

“Too much? Need a break?” 

“No. No, just too much. Too good. Aaah.” 

“Mmh so good. Mommy’s so proud of you, baby. You’re fucking me so well”, you praise, fingers rubbing your clit vigorously. 

“I have to cum again, Mommy.”

“Don’t hold back, fill me up.” You encourage him with clenches of your walls. “Make me a Mommy again.”

Taehyung breaks instantly, and with such utter need that he accidentally pins you against the sofa to rut into you. The praise you wanted to moan gets knocked out of you, loud wails replace it. Your eyes go cross, your limbs shake. He is fucking you just right, making your walls tremble as he fills them with his creamy cum. 

He wants to slow down afterwards but you stop him with a yelp.

“Don’t stop! I’m close!”

Taehyung somehow growls and whimpers at the same time, hands kneading your tits to the point they leak against their will. His cock aches, but he can’t stop. Not when his beautiful, soft wife is so close to an explosive orgasm. He knows how sensitive you are, how much sex you need, how he had neglected you unwillingly. He needs to serve and please and submit to your pleasure to finally make up for what you had to miss out on.

“Mommy, my cock is so sensitive. Oh god Mommy”, he is still whining about his condition, crying into your shoulder. 

“Soon. Soon. Please harder. Everything.”

Taehyung understands. He bites your shoulder again, speeding up his hips as he slams his cummy cock into your creamed walls repeatedly. He squeezes your tits harder, rubbing your swollen nipples between his fingers vigorously. 

“Tae!” you scream, breaking apart simultaneously. It feels so good that you can’t tell if it started in your pussy, in your clit or in your nipples. All you know is that it makes you writhe and shake and sob because you haven’t had this kind of orgasm in so long. Taehyung fucks you through it, seeing light as he fears for his life. He keeps going despite all that, fucking you so good that have to squirt a second time, soiling his legs and the sofa with it. 

“Urgh woah”, you let out once then give up, dropping into the backrest which forces his cock to slip out of you. You spill his cum instantly, groaning in relief. 

Taehyung drops beside you into the sofa, burying his hands in his hair to twist it in disbelief. He can barely even breathe. What the fuck was this?

You pant next to him, feeling shocked as well. 

It takes the two of you a while to recover from what just happened. The sex was just too intense and your bodies are too broken. 

You are the one to end the forced silence.

“Are you okay?” 

“I don’t know”, he whispers.

You and he turn your head slowly, locking eyes. 

“I think I can’t move.”

“Me neither.”

You break first, Taehyung follows, showing you his prettiest boxy smile as he laughs with you wholeheartedly. You manage to get out of your trance as you laugh, falling into each other’s arms to hug.

“This was actually insane”, you say.

“Yeah, oh god, I can’t believe you let me call you Mommy.”

“Not gonna lie that was like super hot and sexy. I don’t know what this says about me. Or us for that matter.” 

“That we’ll do it again one day?”

You lift your head to meet his gaze. He is giving you the cutest puppy eyes ever. 

“Mhm definitely.” You cradle his flushed cheek, caressing his heated skin. “You’re actually the cutest and hottest man at the same time. I think I might be pregnant again just because you’re so sexy.”

He laughs, eyes glimmering shyly.

“Don’t say that”, he mumbles, playing with his own hair giddily. 

“I mean it. Gosh you, you’re the best. Mwuah”, you say, giving him a big smooch. 

He giggles, kicking his feet happily. You giggle with him, hugging him against your chest. 

“You also seriously helped me with my tits. I thought that they would burst tonight.”

He hums, closing his eyes as he seeks your scent and rubs your back.

“I love helping you. Knowing that I can relieve some of that pressure is all I want.” 

“You are helping, so much.” 

You and he share a nice silence where you hug each other. It is so healing to be with each other. You love each other so much. 

Taehyung’s rumbling stomach breaks the silence. You lift your head, meeting his embarrassed gaze.

“Are you hungry?” 

“Did you hear my stomach?” 

“Loud and clearly.”

Taehyung pouts, and huffs out air, “I haven’t eaten since lunch. I’m so hungry.” 

“That’s not good. Luckily for you, Misses Choi made dinner before she left. Come on, we’ll clean up and then eat it together.”

“Really?” he gasps, eyes lighting up at the aspect of finally having dinner with you again.

“Of course. We have so many lost dinners to make up for and I’m hungry again. I’m always hungry lately.”

Taehyung giggles, letting you pull him to his feet so he could follow you to the bathroom hand in hand. 

He came home grumpy tonight, but even the concept of this emotion is gone from his heart now that he can finally be with you again. Oh he is going to cuddle you so, so good tonight.

[ts19009]

Seventeen Fic Rec's Part 4

(CONTAINS SMUT AND MATURE SUBJECT MATTER)

(Bold title means favorite)

(UPDATED: February 24th, 2025)

OT13

subtle svt dating.@xinganhao

PEDAL TO THE METAL (series masterlist) @diamonddaze01 (Welcome to the world of F1, where the cars go fast, the stakes go higher, and the drama never lifts off the throttle. Seventeen rules the grid—from precision strategies to podium glory. Whether it’s navigating a hairpin turn or a tricky love confession, the tension is always at maximum revs. So tighten your harness and adjust your visors—this isn’t just a race; it’s the ride of a lifetime.)

the lords who loved me (series masterlist) @amourcheol (smut, fluff, angst, bridgerton! au, regency au! for certain fics -> friends with benefits! au, opposites attract! au, sunshine x grumpy! au, slow burn! au, forbidden love! au, enemies to lovers! au)

what 2 am with them looks like @cxffecoupx

The Syndicates Collection  @sailorsoons (this collection contains individual fics with each member of SVT paired with a different reader that occur in the same universe/AU and timeline. Each story is a stand alone, but three of them do have a connected/overarching plot. You do not need to read all of them to understand what’s going on, and all of the fics can be read as standalone one shots.)

Mingyu

Dessert First @highvern (baker! mingyu, wedding planner!YN, fluff, smut, angst, exes to lovers)

Cinnamon @daechwitatamic (You finally decide to try and move on after years of waiting for Mingyu to return your feelings. But when you start bringing your new boyfriend around more often, things with Mingyu get... difficult.)

Sunsets In December @nerdycheol (architect major!mingyu x literature major!f reader)

the budget @fxstpace (photography student!kim mingyu x art student!fem!reader)

lost in the west @starlightkyeom (fake dating (kind of), friends to lovers, holiday!au | fluff, smut, romance)

What they think @priisprii (idol au, Sugar daddy!Mingyu x sugar baby!reade)

So High School @lavnderwonu (fiancé!mingyu x pregnant!fem!reader)

HOW SWEET @hannieehaee (enemies to lovers, pining, one sided crush that becomes two sided!, afab reader, smut, teasing, semi public sex (its done in a public establishment but no one is there), breast play, food play (frosting on tits basically), fingering, handjob, penetrative sex, etc.)

flashing lights masterlist @gyuhao5 (model!minghao x f!assistant!reader x actor!mingyu)

EIGHT FIRST DATES @minkieater (maybe boys your age just weren’t your thing. after a sudden lunch date, you were already half convinced the search was over— had you found the man you were bringing to your family’s thanksgiving? how will chan take the news?)

Love Me Out Loud @twogyuu (Kim Mingyu was your first, but to him, he was for sure you were his endgame. One year out from university, no one expected you to be dating the former campus heartthrob. It's why you had to hide it from everyone – Mingyu's 14.5K Instagram followers, at least. However, the return of your childhood best friend Kim Taehyung to Seoul for a wedding, forces Mingyu to rethink the secrecy of your whole relationship. )

second servings @diamonddaze01(It’s safe to say that this Thanksgiving has been a rousing success)

sage & stardust @smileysuh (Fairy au, fantasy au, non idol. )

A Helping Hand - Part Two @idyllic-ghost (office worker!Mingyu x office worker!fem!reader Genre: office romance, enemies to lovers, fluff, angst, smut, coworkers-with-benefits)

Sit Down @gyuswhore (getting aroused by the other's jealousy/obsession with them, "Could he/she/they do it like this?”, “you're sexy when you're angry”)

Glass Towers @mr-cha-n (fluff, angst, smut, architect AU)

Sex Education @svtiddiess (In all your years of education you learned that there are many methods to study: flashcards, study groups, the pomodoro method etc. But you find that practice is better than theory. And what better way to study Biology than practice with your study buddy?)

the very first night @fxstpace (romance, angst, smut, exes to lovers!au, roommates!au)

Warm welcome @cherry-hulu (Nothing like a warm welcome for Mingyu after a stressful day at work. Warnings: Ceo!KMG x Sugar baby!reader)

so high school | kmg | part 2 @cherriegyuu (when you’re suddenly thrown in Mingyu’s direction, you have no choice but to stay by his side, and maybe it’s not as bad as you think)

Wonwoo

hanging by a moment @haologram (t's been a few years since you've been home for your birthday, and wonwoo can't wait to see you...right?)

Sucker For You @honeyhae-svt (smut, romance, humor, slice of life, wonwoo x reader, college au, slow burn to fast burn, mutual pining, friends to lovers, cockwarming, gamer wonwoo, subtle dominance, light degradation, reader insert, cute dynamics, playful teasing, soft/dom wonwoo, loser!wonwoo x popular!reader.)

Through the Lens @mr-cha-n (Smut, fluff, photographer x model AU)

BOYFRIEND WONWOO ˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ @seokmn

Born Superhero @thedensworld (Started as clueless father to superhero, watch how Wonwoo grow as a father... And a husband.)

never leave this bed @straylightdream (husband!jeon wonwoo x curvy!f.reader)

Love under a Microscope @whitesugarbaybee (Pathologist!Wonwoo x pathologist fem!reader Genre: Doctor au, shefellfirst-he fell harder, crack, fluff)

Sold For A Soul @tusswrites (making bargains with the devil in exchange for a chance to glory. lies, deception and uncovered feelings in a world of glitz and glam.)

Steam IV @highvern (ATLA au, enemies(?) to lovers, forbidden romance, royalty au)

1-800-got-stress @seokminfilm (non-idol au, college/professor au, slight romance (?), english professor wonwoo x teacher's assistant reader, tiny sprinkles of humor, one-sided crush (?), wonwoo is very dense when it comes to reader's romantic feelings (not really though), reader still loves him anyways, cute ending??)

In Front of Me (1) @wonustars (bestfriends to (?), angst, smut (R: 18+ mdni))

ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴛᴡɪɴᴇᴅ -- ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪɴ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ (pt 2) @shuastar (ᴀʀᴄʜᴅᴜᴋᴇ!ᴡᴏɴᴡᴏᴏ x ᴀʀᴄʜᴅᴜᴄʜᴇꜱꜱ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ) I'm obsessed with this one.

Heart of the Sea @highvern (angst, romance, adventure, pirate!au, royalty!au)

king of my heart @strawberrynamjoon (soulmates au?, non idol au)

Sweetest thing @sailorrhansol (Dad!Wonwoo x Mom!reader For the first Halloween in years, you and Wonwoo are able to enjoy it together without the kids. When you feel a little nervous about your costume, Wonwoo is determined to show you that you’ve always been the sweetest thing. )

after the seminar @smileysuh (sugar daddy Wonwoo, gentleman in the streets/softdom in the sheets, reader doesn't want to make choices, daddy/control kink, fingering, multiple orgasms, oral, blow job, deep throating, dirty talk, praise, masturbation, unprotected sex, holding hands while fucking, implied breeding/fullness kink, etc… I pet names: (hers) honey. (his) daddy.)

Joshua

all the petty scenes & all the pretty things @starlightkyeom ((one-sided) enemies to lovers, strangers to lovers (kinda) | smut & fluff)

Streak @wonwootattoo (it doesn't give a description, but know I loved this one)

not according to plan | hjs @starlightkyeom(fake dating, strangers to friends to ?? | fluff, slight angst, smut)

I (do)n't need you Pt. 1 @thestraybunny (Inspired by 2 minus 1 by Vernon and Joshua.It's been seven months since you and Joshua broke up, and you are still convincing yourselves that you don't need each other.)

royally screwed [m] @husbandhoshi ( between remembering last night’s party and pleasing your unrelenting family, you think being a princess is hard enough. then you’re thrust into an arranged marriage to royal darling joshua hong—straight-laced, infuriatingly obedient, and everything you’re not. pretending to be the perfect couple? impossible.)

love thy neighbor @junkissed (fwb! neighbor!joshua x f reader)

Lies and Butterflies @bluehoodiewoozi (fake dating au; mostly fluff.)

𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚 @yerimacoustic (after the princess falls mysteriously ill, joshua, born with powers no one else in the palace knows about, becomes her caretaker.)

in a span of three months @viastro (in which you teach joshua how to live.)

Catalyst @hwanghyunjinenthusiast (A trip to your brother and niece's brings feelings your husband has been shoving down for months to the surface.)

Juno @shuafiles (one of me is cute, but two though? give it to me baby)

Jeonghan

don’t you want me, baby? — yjh @seungkw1 (80s au, romance, humor)

sweet monday afternoons @straylightdream (nonidol, linecook! jeonghan, waitress/baker!reader)

Merger & Acquisition (Of My Heart) @mr-cha-n(Jeonghan thought navigating corporate mergers was hard—turns out, navigating corporate mergers with his ex is harder.)

storm @tonicandjins (fluff, married life)

i'll always say it's you ; yoon jeonghan @junplusone (childhood best friends to ??? to ???, swearing, drinking (+ underage), talk of joshua and cheol's arm muscles, mention of drugs in a joke like once i think, caffeine addiction, peak delusion, jeonghan cheating in games as always, hella yearning)

reverse uno @twogyuu (Fluff, dad!jeonghan, mom!reader, uncle!wonwoo)

the gambit —- y.jh @miniseokminnies 9enemies to lovers, rivals to lovers, 1960s au, university au, chess club president!jeonghan, club member!yn)

fated strut- pt. i @beomcoups (greek god!Jeonghan x model!reader)

daylight @kpopflowerfield (jeonghan is moving on from a heartbreak, starting again and making every experience feel new with you.)

Minghao

muddled hearts 🍹 x.mh @haologram (artender!xu minghao x fem!waitress!reader | side pairings: restaurant owners!jeongcheol ; bartender!seungkwan x waiter!hansol ; chef!mingyu x hostess!tzuyu (twice))

the xu minghao dilemma @shuaflix(fluff, humor, suggestive, coffee shop au, college au, childhood friends to lovers au)

\caught in bloom, caught on you @wheeboo (in which you find yourself becoming a regular𑁋or perhaps more than that𑁋at minghao's flower shop.)

lost in translation ♾️ @ylangelegy (translator/interpreter!reader, idiots in love, yearning!!!, hurt/comfort, confessions. alcohol consumption, reader gets a [minor] surgery)

Seokmin

Hint. Hint. HINT!!! @nerdycheol (College AU, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Crush)

smooth operator @ylangelegy (f1 racer!seokmin x ferrari race engineer!reader)

break your heart right back @kyeomszone (lovers to exes mingyu. rough sex. model! mingyu. cheating. baseball player! dokyeom. penetrative sex. gentle sex. body worship. oral sex (fem receiving). overstimulation. fem reader.)

Totally Scrooged @highvern (neighbor!au, idiots to lovers, fluff/angst/smut)

triple-dog dare @eoieopda (childhood best friends to lovers)

because even then, i knew @catboyieejeno (non idol! seokmin x reader, stanger to lovers / kdrama au)

The Somerset Affair | Chapter 2: When the Music Stops @diamonddaze01 (Bridgerton AU, friends to (?????) to eventual lovers, brother’s best friend, SLOWWWW BURNNN)

assumptions @seokminfilm (major league baseball player!seokmin, popular x nobody,)

Chan

between you and me @haologram (holiday au. bffs to exes to lovers (what a doozy); angst, fluff, smut.)

Chapter One: How to Not Get Stabbed @mr-cha-n (action, smut, angst, fluff, superhero AU)

Kwon Soonyoung

Beggin' On My Knees @highvern (After another run in with the law, you come to terms with the fact your friends might be right about your fiancé.)

Espresso @highvern (dom/sub dynamics (switches back and forth), public fondling/exhibitionism, dry humping, fingering, breath play, oral sex (all the kinds), swallowing, spitting, degradation (reader calls herself a slut, hoshi has a moral dilemma about it), spanking, vaginal sex, anal sex, unprotected sex, double penetration, sex toys (butt plug, dildo))

[chimcess]

⮞ Teaser Pairing: Jungkook x Reader Other Tags: Hockey Player!Jungkook, Figure Skater!Reader, Hockey Player!Taehyung, Hockey Player!Jimin, Coach!Yoongi, Hockey Player!Namjoon, Hockey Player!Hoseok, Figure Skater!Jin, Genre: Hockey!AU, Figure Skating!AU, Olympic!AU, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Self-Discovery, Fluff, Angst, Eventual Smut, Slow Burn Drop Date: 01/20/2025 Summary: Y/N Y/L/N has always been destined for greatness as a competitive figure skater, her dreams of the Olympics sparkling like the ice beneath her blades. But when a devastating injury sidelines her, those dreams seem to melt away. Just when she feels lost, she unexpectedly meets Jeon Jungkook, a talented NHL hockey player.

I never used to think about what came after. Why would I? It felt pointless, like trying to guess the end of a novel when you’re still tangled in the middle. Every chapter rushing by, barely letting you catch your breath. Sometimes, life dangled a dream so vivid, so close, you could almost feel it in your hands. But right when you thought you had it? That’s when life reminded you—pages stop turning. Lights flick off. And suddenly, you’re back in the grind, stuck right where you started.

Normal? No chance. I wouldn’t recognize normal if it jumped out of the shadows and hit me. Normal was for people who punched clocks and sipped lukewarm coffee in beige cubicles. My mornings started when the world was still dark—lacing up my skates, the cold air biting at my face. Stretch until the pain dulled, practice until my routines were burned into my mind like a broken record. The rink smelled like sweat, frost, and desperation, clinging to me as I chased that perfect moment, day in and day out.

That was my life. Until it wasn’t.

From the moment I took my first steps, the ice had been my escape. My personal sanctuary. Each time my skates touched the frozen surface, electricity sparked through me, alive in my bones. My mom, Emily, she saw it first. She recognized that fire in me and latched on, pulling me headfirst into the competitive skating world. She wasn’t just supportive—she was relentless, like a storm barreling down on me, pushing me to be perfect. To her, maybe that was all that mattered.

People whispered behind her back, saying she was living vicariously through me, chasing dreams she’d lost. But I didn’t resent her for it. Her ambition, fierce and all-consuming, burned like a fire. It kept me warm—even when it scorched me. It wasn’t the trophies or the standing ovations that drove me. It was the ice itself. Out there, I wasn’t just a name on a roster. I was free.

Emily had been a skater once, too. But life, cruel and chaotic, had other plans. Her dreams fizzled out, lost somewhere between time and circumstance. When she got pregnant with me, she married my dad, Jim, and watched her ambitions wither like dead leaves. Year by year, regret settled in, until all she had left was me—and the ice. I became her second chance.

She met Jim when she was still a bright-eyed girl in a small town, dreaming big. He came to Michigan for police training; she was restless, yearning for more. They fell in love—or something close to it. Soon enough, I came along, and after a quick courthouse wedding, our lives unraveled. Emily and I left Michigan for Colorado, chasing skating dreams. Jim drifted back to Olympia, Washington, sinking into his routine like it was quicksand.

I became the bridge between them, constantly tugged between my dad’s predictable world and my mom’s fierce drive. Stability—something I longed for—was never in the cards. Emily hated Michigan, so we stayed away. Jim became less of a father and more of a ghost.

The crackle of the intercom yanked me from my thoughts. My knee throbbed, a bitter reminder.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain. We’re starting our descent into Detroit, where it’s currently five-eighteen p.m., and a frigid fifteen degrees Fahrenheit. Please secure your belongings.”

Michigan. I was back, but it didn’t feel like home. It hadn’t for years. And yet, here I was. Family wasn’t a refuge—not with Jim. He felt more like a stranger now, a shadow of someone I used to know. The home we once had? Long gone.

Monday, I’d meet with Dr. Jeon. People swore he was the best, but deep down, I already knew none of it mattered. The moment my skate hit that rough patch of ice, when my body twisted and the world flipped upside down, I knew—my skating days were over.

I could still see it. The rink, bathed in soft afternoon light, the sound of *Swan Lake* floating through the air. I wasn’t competing that day, just skating for the sheer joy of it. Emily and my coach were in the bleachers, discussing my next routine. I built up speed, heading into a fan spiral, when it happened. My blade caught. My leg buckled. I hit the ice hard. Everything went dark.

The plane’s landing gear screeched, snapping me back to the present. My heart raced, the memory fading like smoke. As the plane stopped, passengers scrambled for their bags. I waited, letting them pass, before grabbing my things. The crutches in my hands were cold, unfamiliar. I used to glide effortlessly across the ice, and now, here I was—struggling just to stay upright on solid ground.

At baggage claim, I stared at the mountain of luggage, feeling the weight of it all sink in. How was I supposed to manage with no free hands?

“You need a hand?”

The voice startled me. I turned and saw him—tall, with warm brown eyes that somehow felt like they saw right through me. Before I could respond, someone bumped into me, and my crutch clattered to the floor. I wobbled, reaching out to steady myself, but he was faster. He caught me.

For a moment, the noise, the crowd, everything blurred. It was just us, frozen in time.

“You alright?” His voice was soft, steady, his hands still gripping my arms. I nodded, heat flushing my face as I pulled away.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.” I muttered. He bent down, picking up my crutch. As he handed it back, his eyes lingered on me, not with pity, but with something else. Understanding, maybe.

“No problem.” His smile was easy, casual, but there was something behind it, like he had more to say.

Around us, life resumed its frantic pace—people rushing by, voices bouncing off the airport’s high ceilings. But for just a second longer, it was still only us.

“Need help with your bags?” he asked, glancing at the heap of luggage. 

I hesitated, my pride prickling. “I’ve got it,” I said, even though I clearly didn’t. My knee throbbed in protest.

He didn’t push. Just smiled, unbothered, and shrugged. “Alright. But it’s no trouble if you change your mind.”

As I shifted my weight, feeling the twinge in my leg, I sighed. “Okay, yeah, I could use some help.” The words tasted like defeat, but he didn’t seem to notice.

He easily grabbed my suitcase, balancing my smaller bag on top. I clung to my messenger bag, determined to carry something myself.

"Is someone picking you up?" he asked as we walked toward the sliding glass doors, the cold Michigan air sneaking in like a thief in the night.

"No, I'll just grab a cab," I said, weaving through the crowd. His presence next to me felt steady, comforting, like a life raft I didn’t even know I needed. 

“I’ve got my car in the overnight lot,” he offered casually, like it was no big deal. “I could give you a ride if you want.”

For a moment, I hesitated, caught off guard by the offer. “No, it’s okay,�� I said, almost too quickly. “A cab’s fine.” But something shifted in his face—just for a second. Disappointment? Or was that just my imagination?

We stepped outside, and the cold hit me like a slap, sharp and biting. I cursed under my breath for not grabbing my gloves. 

He noticed, his lips quirking up in a knowing smile. “Forgot what Michigan feels like in January?”

“Yeah,” I muttered, pulling my coat tighter. “Something like that.” I should’ve been used to it by now. I grew up on ice, for God’s sake. But standing there in the freezing wind felt different, like the cold wasn’t just outside—it was creeping inside me, gnawing at the edges of something deeper.

“So, where were you before this?” he asked, his curiosity genuine, his breath hanging in the air like smoke.

“Nevada. Before that, Colorado. We moved around a lot.” I don’t even know why I was telling him this. I didn’t even know his name.

“We?” He raised an eyebrow, the question soft, but pointed.

“Me and my mom,” I said, my voice quieter now. “She’s never been one to stay put. Wherever she went, I followed.”

He nodded, like he understood more than he should. “A modern-day nomad. Sounds... exhausting.”

I let out a small laugh, more out of habit than anything else. “Yeah, it can be.” But there was something easy about him, something that made this whole conversation feel less strange, less fleeting.

“You staying here for a while?” he asked, his dark eyes locking with mine, the cold forgotten for a moment.

“For the foreseeable future,” I replied, surprising myself with how easily the words slipped out.

“Good to know.” His voice softened, like he was letting me in on some secret only we shared. That crooked smile crept back, and I felt my pulse quicken again. He had no idea what he was doing to me.

I bit my lip, trying to steady the rush of nerves rising in my chest. What was I even doing? Standing here, flirting with a stranger in the dead of winter? This wasn’t real life—it was the stuff of daydreams. But somehow, with him, it felt real. Almost too real.

“Maybe I’ll see you around,” he said, his hand lifting to ruffle his hair again. The messy strands fell back into place like he didn’t care—like he knew exactly how disheveled he looked and leaned into it.

“Yeah, maybe,” I said, though I wasn’t sure I believed it. The airport, the cold wind—it all seemed to fade away, leaving just us in this strange, fleeting moment.

“You live nearby?” I asked, even though I knew I should’ve been hopping into a cab by now, getting out of this freezing wind and back to whatever was left of my life.

“Detroit,” he said, his breath fogging in the air like a ghost of something lost.

“Me too,” I said, a little too quickly. “Just moved there, actually.”

“Downtown?” He asked it casually, but his eyes were sharp, as if my answer might mean more than I realized.

“Royal Oak,” I said, nodding. “The old houses there... they’re beautiful.”

“They are,” he agreed, and there was something in the way he said it, like he was noticing things I didn’t even realize I was showing. His gaze flicked between my eyes and my lips, and for a moment, the air between us stretched thin, a fragile thread pulling us closer until a sharp gust of wind snapped it, jolting me back to reality.

"Welcome to Michigan," he said with a laugh, his voice warm against the icy air. Without warning, he reached down and took my bare hands in his. The warmth of his touch jolted through me, electric, racing straight to my core. For a second, I swore the ground shifted beneath us. Something unspoken buzzed between our hands.

“We should get you a cab,” he said, glancing down at my frozen fingers, his expression softening with concern. “You’re not exactly dressed for this weather.”

"Yeah, I probably should’ve planned better,” I admitted with a laugh, still caught up in the warmth of his hands, the way they made everything else feel just a little less cold. 

He waved down a cab with the ease of someone who’s done it a hundred times. I watched him as he loaded my bags into the trunk, every movement feeling like a countdown. And then, when he opened the passenger door for me, I hesitated. I stood at the edge of that moment, torn between the part of me that wanted to leave and the part that wanted to stay, just a little longer.

“Thanks for the help,” I said, looking up at him, my heart thudding hard in my chest.

“Jungkook,” he said, his voice soft, that crooked smile still tugging at his lips. “I’m Jungkook.”

“Y/N,” I replied, the name slipping out of my mouth so naturally it felt like it was meant for him, like it was always supposed to be said here, in this cold, surreal moment.

“Y/N,” he repeated, like he was testing it on his tongue, like it was something fragile and precious. He leaned in just a little, his voice dropping to a whisper.

"Y/N?" His hand hovered near my shoulder, his voice even quieter now, almost as if he was about to share a secret meant only for me.

And suddenly, the world around us—everything—fell away. The cold, the noise, the blur of people rushing past. It was just him, standing there with that crooked grin, making me wonder if maybe—just maybe—this wasn’t the end of whatever this was.

“Yeah, Jungkook?” I asked, my breath catching, anticipation curling low in my stomach.

“My friends and I... we hang out at this bar on Grand most Tuesdays. Billy’s?” He said it like a suggestion, but it felt like more. Like a bridge to whatever might come next. “Maybe I’ll see you there sometime?”

A thrill shot through me, quick and unexpected. This wasn’t just some random, fleeting connection. He wanted to see me again. “Yeah,” I stammered, my voice barely steady. “I could swing by. Once I’m settled in.”

“Great.” His whole face lit up, and it was like watching a door creak open, revealing something softer, something vulnerable underneath. "I’ll see you around then, Y/N." He stepped back, shut the door behind me with a quiet finality.

As the cab pulled away, I turned, craning for one last look. He waved, easy and casual, and I lifted my hand in return, my heart still racing. Part of me wanted to freeze this moment, hold onto it before it slipped away. But the cab turned the corner, and just like that, he was gone.

I slumped back in the seat, exhaustion settling in like a heavy weight. I rested my head against the cold window, letting the chill ground me. This wasn’t just some daydream—it was real. And yet, as the city lights blurred by, doubts started creeping in, shadows curling at the edges of my mind. Would I really show up at Billy’s? Or would I let this whole thing fade, convincing myself it was just a fluke? 

But then I thought about him—Jungkook. That crooked smile. And a small part of me couldn’t help but wonder... What if?

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[jiniretracha]

ꕤ 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 '𝟐𝟒 - 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝟒 ꕤ

Kim Taehyung x fem!reader: pregnancy kink

summary: Tae never understood why men who got their girlfriend's pregnant, all of a sudden, turned into total simps for them. He just didn't understand what changed. Until he got you pregnant...

warnings: smut, tae being weird but we luv him <3, fingering

word count: 1.5k

kinktober masterlist // masterlist // ko-fi

Kim Taehyung never knew why men that had their girlfriend’s pregnant, all of a sudden, turned desperate for them. He didn’t understand what was the factor that made them turn into total simps. He really didn’t get it at all. He understood pregnancy was a beautiful step to be taken in a relationship, sure, but what changed? 

Tae had some near experiences like when Nam and his girlfriend announced they were expecting a baby. Their leader had told them how his girl suddenly had this glow around her, that she was even more beautiful than ever.

But Tae never saw it. 

Sure, Namjoon’s girl was really pretty, but he didn’t recognize any change in her, at all. She looked just the same to him.

Until it happened to him. 

He met you a couple of years ago through Seokjin. You were a friend of Jin’s cousins, and Tae was invited to a party his hyung had made, and you were there, and he couldn’t help but fall in love with you instantly. 

You started dating each other a couple of months later after a few dates and there you were. Two years into the relationship and you were three months pregnant with his child. 

Your baby bump wasn’t really there yet, but as he had memorized every single part of your body, whenever his hand would trace your stomach, he’d sense a little hill there. And it was adorable. 

He could see now why people would say there was this pregnancy glow shit. 

It was real.

You were glowing, and he couldn’t think of anything hotter than thinking that you were pregnant with his baby. He got you pregnant. 

Now, there you were. 

You were in the kitchen, making yourself a snack out of strawberry and apple pieces mixed with some chocolate syrup. Something you started doing out of the famous cravings you started having. 

But he couldn’t focus on anything rather than how good you looked with your short crop top that showed off your little baby bump. How you were licking your fingers with chocolate syrup. And how the fact that you were pregnant with his baby while doing all of that made everything ten times hotter. 

He approached you lazily and walked behind you. Tae wrapped his arms around you and pressed his nose against your neck, inhaling your scent.

“Hey, bub” you cooed. “You want some?”

“Yeah…” he whispered, and started rubbing his nose against the skin of your neck. His lips kissed the curve of it, his teeth leaving slight bites on its wake. 

You left the knife on the counter, afraid that you would cut yourself by accident by your boyfriend’s ministrations. 

You bit your lip and sighed, “Tae…”

“What?” 

“What are you doing?” you asked him, giggling, arching an eyebrow curiously with a smirk.

He chuckled and his hands came to touch your stomach. “You just look so beautiful carrying our baby, I just felt the need to show you how” he whispered. 

You chuckled back and turned around in his arms, curling your arms around his neck. “Then, show me…”

Soon enough, you found yourself on your shared bed, both of you naked while his length was buried deep inside you. 

You laid on your back, while his hands were placed one on your waist, and the other right above the bump on your stomach. 

“Fuck, I hope our baby doesn’t remember any of this because I’m gonna be fucking you any chance I get” he moaned, throwing one of your legs over his shoulder, applying more pressure as he hit the sweet spot inside of you, making you throw your head back in pleasure. 

And man, did he truly keep his promise.

It happened everywhere you went.

He got horny over your pregnancy state anywhere you went, it was getting out of control. 

One time, you two went to buy some underwear for you because your hips started getting bigger along with your breasts and you needed new pairs. You grabbed a few and went to the changing room, with Tae trailing behind you, but you decided it was for the better for him to stay outside. 

You tried a certain bra and sighed, opening the curtain slightly and looking at your boyfriend.

“Babe, can you help me, please?” you asked him.

He immediately walked inside the changing room and his eyes visibly widened when he saw you in a full purple set, his mouth watering at how good your body looked in it.

“I think this makes me look fat” you rolled your eyes, brushing your hair over your shoulder. “I’m not getting pregnant ever again, gosh” you sighed. 

Tae grabbed your face and kissed the breath out of you, making you gasp and clutch at his arms in surprise. He pulled away with a loud pop and brushed his nose against yours. 

“No, baby” he shook his head. “We’re keeping you pregnant forever” he said, making you laugh.

“Yeah, next time you carry this baby” you scolded him.

“But you look so sexy with that bump, you have no idea” he said, and you could see he truly meant it, due to the lust that his eyes carried. His hands brushed over your stomach and then to the underwear you were wearing, brushing his fingers over your core. 

You got wet in an instant, and gasped, nails digging into the skin of his arms. “Tae… what if someone sees or hears?” you whispered and then let out a gasp again when you felt his fingers brush over your sensitive clit, making you press your head against the wall of the changing room. 

His fingers probed against your entrance and he chuckled against your lips. “Believe me, if someone sees me finger fucking my super hot pregnant wife, they’re probably gonna congratulate me. You don’t even know how fucking beautiful you look right now in this purple set” he whispered against your neck and then licked a stripe with his wet tongue, the feeling making your knees buckle. If it wasn’t for Tae’s hands holding you in place, you would’ve, for sure, fallen to the ground. 

On that occasion, he made you come two times inside that dressing room and ended up buying two purple sets. One to actually use and the other for when you got home, so he could rip it off your body the instant you hit the bedroom. 

In front of the band members, he obviously didn’t do anything dirty, but he just couldn’t help it that his thoughts ran wild. 

He’d see you talking with Namjoon’s girl and laughing with Hobi about whatever you three were talking about, and his heart would swell in his chest.

Taehyung couldn’t believe his luck. Seeing you pregnant with his child, laughing along with his friends, something so mundane, somehow made him feel like the luckiest man in the world. 

His thoughts were cut short when he saw you pop a piece of fruit in your mouth and his eyes fixated on the juice from said fruit running over your lips. Your finger came to lick the remains off and said fingers came to brush over your pregnant stomach, a habit that you started developing since you found out you were expecting. 

Tae bit his lip, his eyes only focused on you while Yoongi was talking about something that was pointless and irrelevant to him at this point, and his hyung could feel that he wasn’t paying attention to him in the slightest. Yoongi turned his head and understood that Tae had that dumb look on his face because he was focused on you. Typical, he thought. 

He cleared his throat, which caught Taehyung’s attention, who turned his head to look at him. “Hey, I get that ever since Y/N found out she was pregnant with your baby, you just can’t seem to stop drooling whenever she’s around, but if you’re gonna pop a boner, do it away from me, man” Yoongi scolded him with disgust in his tone, mirrored in his face. 

Tae laughed and pushed his shoulder, standing up from his seat. 

He walked towards you and his heart did a backflip when your eyes met his and instantly smiled.

“Hey, honey” you flashed a toothy grin at him. 

Taehyung smiled at you and offered him your hand. You took it, giving him a curious look. 

“Where are we going?” you asked him, as you two exited the room and walked towards the elevator.

“To our room” 

You frowned. “Did you get hard again over my pregnant stomach, Tae?” you asked him and then looked down at the front of his pants. Yep, he was indeed hard. “Oh my God, Tae, did someone see?”

Tae didn’t say anything.

“Shit, who saw you?” you asked him and he laughed.

“Yoongi”

“Oh no, he’s not gonna let that go, you know that right?” you asked him as the doors of the elevator closed in front of you.

He grabbed your hips and pulled you close. “It doesn’t matter. All I care right now is making you come at least three times on my dick and then getting some kimchi for dinner” he smiled feigning innocence as he arched his eyebrows a couple of times.

You smirked and curled your arms around his neck. “Sounds like a plan”

“It’s date…”

── .✦

taglist: @annhearttihaehe // @frequentlykit // @alexisfeliz // @jeonginsleftcheek // @minghaosimp // @lixies-favorite-cookie // @yn-x-them // @chrizrizz // @madkati // @starzystay // @pancake-freckle // @velvetmoonlght

i apologize if i can't tag u :(

[yoonia]

A Christmas Fix — 02 (m) | kth

⟶ Summary | One-night stands are supposed to be nothing more than just. It shouldn’t have involved seeing those two red lines looking back at you weeks later without a name or a contact number linking you back to your mystery man. Nothing more but his face. The unforgettable face that would sometimes appear in your dreams at night. So unforgettable that you immediately recognise him the moment he walks into your family home at Christmas, hand-in-hand with your older stepsister.

With special collab prompt: "the holidays aren't so bad with you around."

⟶ Title | A Christmas Fix

⟶ Pairings | Taehyung x female reader

⟶ Genre | Secret Baby!au, Second Chance!au, Strangers to Lovers!au

⟶ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; including: alcohol consumption, mentions of pregnancy, morning sickness, surprise babies, miscommunication, profanities/swearing, fake dating trope on the side, minor body insecurities (implied), fight scene, some family drama; involves multiple explicit sex scenes, including: sexual tension, one night stand, drunk sex (with clear consent), minor dom/sub dynamic, brat!reader, size kink, rough sex, light choking, restraint, hair pulling (M, F), protected & unprotected sex, pregnant sex, fingering (F), oral sex (F), clit play, breast play, stripping, biting, minor hand job/groping, grinding, masturbation (M, F), mutual masturbation, dirty talk, implied pain kink, praise kink, body worship, marking, multiple orgasms (M, F), overstimulation.

⟶ Word count | 29,410 words (of 54,773 words)

⟶ Story Notes | Part of the Jingle All the Way collaboration with @leahsfavefics, @kithtaehyung, @kpopfanfictrash, @cybrsan, and @sugaurora | Written in 2nd person POV (in case you’re new to my writing, I don’t use ‘y/n’ coding as all of my lead characters are considered as OCs) | Moodboard was done by me | Posted in: February 1st, 2024 by @yoonia

⟶ Author Notes | And we're finally at the end. Thank you so much for everyone who has read part 1, and those of you who have been so patient with me. I'm sorry I had to wait for a day to post this. I hope you'll enjoy the rest of the journey to see how this story ends :)

⟶ Jingle All the Way collab masterlist | A Christmas Fix: ⤎ previous chapter

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The house has been quiet all morning. 

There is only one day left before Christmas Eve, and everyone has been busy for the past couple of days. Your mother and Honey are hosting the Christmas Eve’s family dinner this year, with close relatives from their side of the family joining in, so everyone has been busy going around and about to prepare for it. 

After days filled with all the bustling activities, it feels like you finally have some downtime. With both of your parents gone—your mother is out with Honey to shop for a couple of necessities needed for the event, and your stepfather out doing some errands, assisted by Taehyung in place of Hansol—it feels like you can finally breathe easy. 

While the pre-Christmas rush helped smother the loud thinking constantly happening inside your head, the silence that you are experiencing now feels comforting. The underlying tension that is also present, however, isn’t so much. 

When you agreed to stay home and help out with the rest of the Christmas baking still needed to be done, you didn’t expect that Alia had volunteered to stay behind and help too. So you have been using this silence as a protective shield. 

Almost an hour has passed since the two of you started getting busy in the kitchen. No meaningful conversation has been shared so far, aside from the times you had to talk through the recipes together or talking about passing things over. The only sounds that are keeping you company are the occasional sounds of kitchenware hitting the counter, the shuffling sounds coming from both you and Alia as you move around the kitchen, and the burning oven behind your back. 

Slowly, you are beginning to enjoy this routine, finding calmness in the steady rhythm of baking and cooking which helps quiet the voices in your head. Too bad it doesn’t last long enough for you to relish it when Alia suddenly speaks, bringing up something other than the task in your hand for a change. 

“I’ve been wondering for a while, but you look like you had a rough night. Is your stomach still bothering you?” she asks, breaking the silence. 

To say that you are caught off-guard seems like an understatement. And you have no idea how to respond to her question. For her to suddenly ask something personal is completely unexpected. 

It’s not that the two of you never had an actual conversation with one another like a pair of normal human beings. It’s just she never seemed to truly care or have any interest in getting to know about you other than the stories shared at family dinners with your parents around. 

It’s making it even harder to answer when you have this underlying guilt brewing inside you. A feeling that comes from hiding a secret that keeps getting heavier to carry. And you are afraid that the moment you open your mouth to speak, they will all come spilling out of you. 

You wish you could just lie to her face. Tell her that everything is fine so you can continue working in silence. 

But when you look up and actually look at her, she seems—genuine, in her concern, and almost as much with her curiosity. 

But there is no malice or pretence in her question that you find yourself reaching out to accept the olive branch that she is offering you and answer, “It’s—okay. I mean, it’s been pretty rough the past few nights. I think it’s because of the lack of sleep I’ve been getting.” 

And you’re not completely lying. Because the past couple of nights have been rough. But you couldn’t possibly explain to her why.

Alia scrunches her nose, oblivious to this. “I heard from Honey that you get this way when you’re stressed out. Has work been stressful for you lately? I mean, with your latest work promotion, I can only imagine that you’ve only gotten busier lately.” 

You purse your lips and avoid her gaze, once again biting back the secret that is threatening to slip out. 

“Maybe—” you start to answer, “I haven’t been eating well, and I’ve messed up my sleeping schedule so bad lately, that it’s been hard to fix it even when I’m home. I’ve been having trouble sleeping, and I woke up with a headache this morning.” 

Alia frowns. “Have you been taking meds? I have some vitamins that may help you sleep better. I’ve been taking them lately to—” 

Thinking about taking vitamins makes you cringe. The doctor’s warnings come floating through your mind—reminding you that you should be wary of the medicines and vitamins to take, as they may not be safe enough for the baby in your belly, her warning about keeping your stress level low, and her reminder of watching over your diet at the beginning of your pregnancy. 

“No, it’s fine. I don’t usually take medicines or vitamins to help me sleep,” you gently refuse. Even without your doctor’s warnings, you know that nothing could really help you with your sleeping problems. 

Because the truth is, your nausea and ‘stomach bug‘ haven’t been the sole reason why you have been having trouble sleeping as of late. 

It was Taehyung. 

Ever since you came across Taehyung that night in the hallway, memories from the night of your wild hookup have been coming back to you. They have been haunting you at night, whether you were sitting in bed wide awake or when you were deep in your restless sleep. 

When sleep failed you, you would be left spending long hours recounting every action and every conversation that you could remember. Every single detail had been coming back to you in bits and pieces jumbling together, and you would spend the next long hours trying to piece everything together. You went through it all to answer the resounding questions that are still messing up with your mind. 

How many times did we do it that night? 

More than twice, for sure, you recall each time you try to look back. Was it three, or four times? 

You remember feeling sore and tired the next day, yet you were content enough to sleep the whole flight away towards your dream vacation with your whole body humming with the waning pleasure. And while you weren’t completely drunk that night, you were surely tipsy enough that you were unable to memorise every single moment with a clear mind. 

But the biggest question that you have yet to answer—

He really did wear condoms that night, didn’t he? 

You remember watching him roll the condom down the length of his impressive cock. It wasn’t really a memory that you could easily erase, no matter how tipsy-minded you were that night. Not when the way he did it left you completely transfixed. 

For some reason, everything about the first intercourse you had with him remains vivid in your memory. Because it was the first time for you to ever feel that kind of pleasure. To feel wanton and free with someone who was willing to help you open up a part of you which had been locked and sheltered during the long period of time you spent in your past relationship. 

The second time always seems a bit blurry. But you can still recall waking up to his sinful lips devouring your sore pussy in the middle of the night. 

He claimed it as a way to make up for the rough and dominating way he took you the first time and the lack of foreplay. So he spoiled you by giving you pleasure through his mouth and tongue and the work of his fingers, before he fucked you gently, slowly, until you were arching into him and crying out his name once again as he helped you embrace your slow rising climax. 

And the third time—

“Um, earth to ________.” 

Alia’s sharp voice pulls you out of your dark thoughts. Her curiosity seems to grow more palpable, and so does the concerned look you see on her face. 

“Are you okay? Seriously, you don’t look so well. You keep spacing out today and now it’s like you’re burning up or something.” 

With a gasp, you reach up and touch your cheeks, quickly realising that she is right. You are burning up. Except that instead of burning from a fever, your body is growing hot from the inside for a different kind of reason. 

You are burning from being drowned in your dirty thoughts and recounting all the pleasure that you felt back then. To be thinking about all the wanton things that you shared with—

Your eyes fall open as you draw a shocked gasp. Realising too late that you are thinking about your stepsister’s new boyfriend while she is sitting right in front of you. Guilt pierces through your chest right at that moment, and you quickly rise from your seat. 

“Excuse me, I think I need to cool down a little bit. I’ll be right back,” you quickly say to her before slipping away from the kitchen without waiting for her response. 

Needing distance from Alia, you rush to your bedroom upstairs, finding solace in your safe space as you lock yourself in it. The feeling of shame washes over you. You can’t believe that you had allowed yourself to think of dark, sultry thoughts while you were sitting right across your stepsister. 

Worse yet, that doing so made you feel aroused. 

The same thing always happens each time you think back about that night. As if your body has memorised what your mind has failed to remember. Each memory of his touch brings back sparks on your skin, reigniting the same reaction that he managed to draw from you then. 

By the time you lie down on your bed, the heat in your body has spread all over the place. Even to the places that you didn’t expect to be affected, as it spreads down between your legs. 

At the same time, your skin seems to be humming with need. There is a desire that has been awakened simply by reliving that night in your thoughts, which would be impossible to quench. 

You close your eyes, and immediately feel as though you are under a spell. Your hands begin to move on their own, searching for the source of the heat rushing within your body. They continue travelling their way down, following the pulses that you feel emerging from your core. 

You slip one hand down your pants, reaching down until you feel skin. A gasp threatens to come out when the tips of your fingers are met with dampened skin. Just as expected, thinking about that night and the things you did with Taehyung then has made you wet. 

Your fingers tremble, and your heart starts pounding like crazy as you continue touching yourself. Slipping your fingers across your slit, you make use of the slickness that has formed to slide back and forth, playing with yourself until you feel only pleasure. A shudder erupts through you as you stroke your clit. 

You shouldn’t be doing this. But before you can stop yourself, an image of his face hovering right above you comes to you. In that moment, you are back to the night when you were with him. 

The fingers that are touching your hot center are no longer yours. They may not be the same size as his fingers, and not as firm, but your memory easily replaces your dainty digits with Taehyung’s longer and wider ones as you push them into your throbbing core. 

There is a voice in your head that keeps telling you how wrong for you to be doing this. How inappropriate for you to be thinking naughty thoughts about someone who isn’t yours and pleasuring yourself with it. 

But your body wouldn’t listen. 

Your hand continues to move, pumping your fingers in and out of your pussy while your hips push back against them. The pleasure rises, increasing quickly the faster you move your hand, the more you ride your fingers like an animal in heat. 

And you don’t stop until your orgasm starts building. It keeps growing stronger, until everything within you snaps. 

As you fall into bliss, his face is all you see. His voice is the one you hear instead of the soft, muffled moans coming out of your lips, whispering to you the same sweet soothing voice that he gave you that night while you were succumbing to pleasure. 

“Good girl. You’re amazing, Red. Rest up, and we’ll play again once you’re ready.” 

“I suppose this is what people call a Christmas miracle.” 

You start to roll your eyes before you remember that Skye wouldn’t be able to see it. For the past hour, you have been on the phone with your roommate while you were hiding from your family. 

Locked in the safety of your bedroom for the second time today because you still couldn’t get over the mortification that has fallen upon you after this morning’s blunder. 

Having your arousal slowly pooling between your legs by the mere thought of Taehyung and the sinful deed you shared with him seemed scandalous. Allowing it to happen while you were sitting right in front of his girlfriend, someone closely related to you, made you feel as if you were more deserving to be burned in hell rather than sharing the joy and laughter of Christmas. 

And instead of brushing those nasty thoughts away, you took it one step further by seeking pleasure with the touch of your fingers. With your head filled with thoughts of Taehyung and while your stepsister was waiting downstairs for you to return. 

Shame and guilt plagued you once you were done. And you were also too sated and tired to even function. But you couldn’t hide in your bedroom for long. Doing so would only cause people to grow suspicious of your behaviour, and you already gained enough unsolicited attention to let it happen. 

So after cleaning yourself up and wiping off any remnants of your misdeed, you put your big girl pants on and went back downstairs to finish the Christmas baking with your stepsister. This time, you kept to yourself more, avoiding as much conversation with Alia while you continued to pretend that nothing happened while you were away. 

Thankfully, you didn’t have to be alone with her for far too long when everyone returned from their outing.

Masking your shame no longer became a struggle when you stopped being the main focus of the room. Everyone was busy with Christmas Eve’s preparation; your mother with the holiday decorations, your stepfather with his handiwork as he went out to fix the porch and the locks on the front door, while you and Alia remained in the kitchen to finish baking. 

Honey stayed nearby, as she sat at the kitchen counter, watching everyone doing their own thing while she was nursing a mug filled with steaming hot cocoa and sharing the most recent gossip about the old ladies living in her apartment complex. 

While all of this was happening around you, you were blessed with the absence of Taehyung, who was said to have gone back to the motel where he and Alia have been staying to finish some work before Christmas Day.

You didn’t question it, trying not to care too much about him and making use of him being gone to try and forget everything that had happened. 

But then lunchtime came, and he returned just in time to rejoin your family for the meal. Seeing his face again, hearing his voice, watching how your stepsister kept being all touchy feeling with her boyfriend and clinging to him all the time gave you an unpleasant feeling that you felt sick to the stomach. 

That was when you rushed back into your bedroom. You convinced yourself that you weren’t hiding from them. That you simply needed some time alone; alone with your thoughts, to gather your wits, and calm your nerves that had become unsettled during lunch while he was once again sitting right across the table, subtly watching you when others weren’t looking. 

But being alone with your thoughts hadn’t been quite helpful. 

Your mind kept wandering into places that you shouldn’t dare to visit. You needed someone to talk to. To vent and get everything out of your system. And Skye, who is currently on the other side of the country to be with her family, was the best option to call. 

And yet, after telling her everything that has happened and keeping her up to date with the latest developments, you are starting to regret calling her. 

“Do tell me why you, of all people, would call this catastrophe a miracle?” you ask her while pinching the bridge of your nose. Your head feels tense, although you are relieved that it has somehow stopped pounding after sharing all of the drama to your roommate through the phone call. 

You can hear the subtle sound of her humming to herself, contemplating her answer. “I mean, think about it. We already made an elaborate plan to track him down, to the point that we nearly booked a ticket to go back to the place where your flight made a stop for transit in case we can’t easily find him,” she says with the same no-nonsense tone of voice that she always uses when she is laying out all of the facts, “and then he suddenly appears, right at your family’s home, as if saying ‘Here I am, look no further’.” 

She laughs, and you can picture her shaking her head when she adds, “Tell me that’s not a miracle.” 

Instead of answering her, you only bite your lips. It does sound almost too good to be true. Except for the one simple fact that is impossible to ignore. “You’re forgetting the fact that he’s here as Alia’s plus one. I’d say it’s a curse, instead of a miracle.” 

You can her chuckling bitterly on the other side of the phone. “And once again, I’m going to say that I don’t envy you.” 

You let out a groan as you fall back on the bed. “This isn’t funny.” 

“I know, sweetie,” she says, comforting you with a sigh. “It’s just so absurd to think about all the coincidences happening around this baby business.” 

You close your eyes, hating the fact that she’s right. There are too many coincidences happening around you, and it’s astonishing to think that everything could come to this point. 

“Yeah, it does sound absurd.” 

“I’m just sad I’m not there to witness it,” she says, laughing, while you barely have the energy to scoff at her. 

For the longest time, Skye has always been the one you turn to whenever you need someone to vent about your ordeal with your stepsister. But compared to the other times you clashed against Alia, this one surely takes the cake.

“You haven’t told him about the baby, have you?” 

You wince. “No,” you answer with s sigh. “I can’t think of a way to do it.” 

And you have been avoiding being in the same room with him to even have the chance to talk about it. Not that you would have found that chance anyway if you did, as Alia has always been by his side. You suddenly remember the way Alia suddenly sidled to his side when he was alone at a time, making a complete show about her doting on him.

Grimacing, you shake the image out of your head. “I’ve thought of different scenarios involving me talking to him and revealing about my pregnancy, but everything has changed now that Alia is involved in this.” 

Skye grows silent for a moment. “Just tell him,” she says. Her voice softens, which only means that she is being serious about this. “The sooner the better, even more so because he is involved with Alia. It’s better to let him know now rather than later, once they’ve been dating longer and the baby is here.” 

You bite your lips again, refraining to tell her that you had thought about the same thing. “He did say he wanted to talk—” 

But he never made it clear what he wanted to talk about. What is there to talk about if he still has no clue about the baby? Is he trying to convince you again not to let Alia know about your past hookup? How would that work if you’re having a baby together from that hookup? 

You hate to admit it, but being kept as a secret feels—painful. 

“Well—” Skye hesitantly says, “It’s not like you’re planning to have an actual relationship with him, right?” 

Her question makes your stomach drop. Have you ever really had any hope of having a relationship with him, just because you are expecting a baby with him? 

Thinking back to the night of your hookup makes you look back and relive the emotions that you felt that night. You are sure that you felt a connection with him that night. A connection that you never felt before with anyone else. It felt real, yet you denied it simply because neither of you had been using your true identities when you climbed on that bed together. It had seemed to you that both of you had only wanted that night to be a one-time thing. 

The sparks you felt with him had also been real, and you are quite sure that you felt them again the last time you were alone with him in that hallway, when he confronted you after the first family dinner that you shared with him. Sometimes, you can also feel that same sparks coming back whenever he is in the room, no matter how far away you try to distance yourself from him.

Could it be that somewhere along the line, you had unknowingly harboured hope that you could be together again? When did this happen? 

Or did having his baby growing inside you make you think that you could somehow build something real with him, to develop the connection that you felt that night into something else entirely? 

Is that why seeing him with Alia has been bothering you so much? Not only because you are hiding this secret, but also because nothing can come out of it once you come clean to him? 

Not for the first time today, you feel like you’re about to throw up. 

You only had one night with him. You keep reminding yourself this, hoping that it will be able to snap you out of the silly illusion that you had allowed your mind to possess. 

“No, I just want him to know about the baby,” you answer weakly, hoping that voicing this promise out loud would help put an end to your wishful thinking. To stop it before it gets too far. 

“But having this baby with me while he’s dating my stepsister will complicate things. And things are already complicated between me and Alia.” 

“Right,” Skye sighs on the phone. Knowing exactly what you mean without you having to say it out loud. 

Over the years, Skye had both witnessed and heard every single spectacle that had become a major part of your relationship with Alia. You can tell that she understands what to expect once this thing blows up. 

“You’re right. I can’t imagine how she’ll react,” you hear her say, before releasing an overly dramatic sigh, and you immediately know where this is going. “Maybe she wouldn’t have hated you so much if you didn’t break that doll of hers when you were a kid.”

You scream into the pillows while she laughs historically on the phone. “Why do you have to bring that up?” you groan, hating yourself for sharing this with her during one of your late-night drinking fests. “Out of all the ludicrous things I shared with you, that’s the one crossing your mind right now?”

“Hey, you were the one who brought it up first. How would you know that it wasn’t true?” 

“How could you possibly remember that when I barely could?” you whine out loud. 

One drunken night was all it took for you to disclose the severity of your childhood crime. Even if you barely remember the details of it. Thankfully, your roommate had been the only witness to listen to your drunk confession. 

“It was an accident that happened ages ago, and I already told you that she couldn’t have possibly started resenting me for years because of that ugly doll.”

Because it sounds ridiculous if you think about it with a sober mind. And you refuse to believe the disdain that Alia has shown you for years had all stemmed from the small incident that happened when you were a child. 

At nine years old, your small family—originally consisting only of you, your mother, and your sweet grandmother, Honey—suddenly expanded. Everything changed for you the day your stepfather, Cliff, came into the picture. Not only did he fill the void that was left behind by your late father, but he also brought with him another girl, and you suddenly had an older sister to play with and to look up to. 

A few years older than you, Alia appeared in your eyes like the coolest kid you have ever met. Beautiful, smart, witty, though she could act a bit snobbish whenever you tried to play with her, yet she still shared her bedroom, her toys, and sometimes her collection of dolls. 

One sleepover, a pair of clumsy little hands, and a ripped old doll later, everything turned the other way around. It happened so long ago that you eventually forgot about it. As Alia entered high school, she rarely came to visit her father, and the incident was simply overlooked with all the other things happening in your life soon after.

The moment she came back into the picture, Alia began acting differently towards you and your relationship was quick to turn dreary. 

Forced smiles and tensed, courteous chats. The hard and solemn look coming through her eyes that she would always reserve for you when others weren’t looking, always at the times when you earned everyone’s attention or when you accomplished something good in life. Plotting schemes by arranging her own agendas to match the significant moments of your lifetime—graduation days, birthdays, anniversaries—oftentimes forcing Cliff to have to choose between being there for you or to be by his biological daughter’s side, while mostly finding excuses to miss out on your important dates altogether. 

After another incident where she caused another drama back home years ago, you came back to your apartment with an opened bottle of tequila and spent the night drunk-venting with Skye. 

Somehow, as you drunkenly wondered why your stepsister would treat you with so much disdain, that small incident from a long time ago came back to mind. And that moment, it seemed that your subconscious linked the incident with the way she treated you years after, and you let it slip to Skye for her to later make it a running joke between the two of you whenever you came to vent about your stepsister drama. 

But really now…all of that hate and drama over a doll?

As if that would justify the way she has been treating you for years. It also makes you wonder if last year’s incident had anything to do with that as well. 

Shaking your head, you hate to think of what kind of hell she will be giving you once she finds out that you are carrying a baby from the man she’s been flaunting around since the day she came home. 

You shudder at the mere thought of it. 

“You know that my offer still stands, right?” Skye suddenly questions you, much to your relief, as she changes the topic right before your head begins to ache again. “If things get too hard or if he wants nothing to do with the baby, or if he mistreats you at all after knowing that he got you pregnant, we can still run away and raise the baby together. Maybe Europe is a bit too far, and too cold for me, so how about Australia?” 

Unprepared to hear her comment, you immediately erupt into laughter. Like always, your best friend knows how to ease your mind. The tension that comes from the stress is lifted, and so are your worries. 

It doesn’t change the fact that you are still going to have to face the music the moment you are given the chance to, but at least you are starting to see some light waiting at the end of this. 

“Running away sounds awfully tempting right now, I’m not going to lie,” you murmur into the call, knowing that Skye can hear you perfectly. But she wouldn’t be able to see it as you rise from your bed and reach out to the beside table, picking up the sonogram which you had gotten right before you left for home. 

Running away does sound tempting. But it is not the choice that you can make. And you won’t. 

You are going to have that talk with Taehyung and tell him everything. Soon. You just need to be ready to face his reaction and the consequences of what the truth might bring. 

As much as you kept telling yourself to prioritise finding the chance to speak to Taehyung, all of your bravado simply vanished by the time you rejoined your family for dinner. 

Sitting down at dinner, once again taking the front row seat to watch Alia making a good show of being the doting girlfriend, as she kept clinging onto Taehyung while he was trying to keep his composure in front of you, you felt suffocated. 

And you couldn’t escape it. 

You had done it once, masking your discomfort with your sickness. And then doing it again a couple of more times under various excuses while everyone was spending time together.

Despite feeling like you wanted to run away, you were running out of excuses and there was nowhere for you to hide. Even once dinner is over, your attempt to escape unnoticed quickly fails when Taehyung finds you first. 

“What are you up to now?” you nearly snap at him as Taehyung slips into view, intercepting you when you are about to slip past the backdoor, hoping to get some fresh air. 

Pursing his lips, he hides his smile and shrugs. “Nothing, just trying to see what you’ve been up to.” 

You squint your eyes at him, finding him suspicious. “Does Alia even know you’re here? Cornering me instead of chaperoning her out there?” 

As you cross your arms over your chest, challenging him with your question, Taehyung simply stares at you with an amused look in his eyes. “You know, everyone is in the living room and they’re wondering where you are. Honey is about to make a show of making that rum cocktail that she was bragging about at dinner.” 

An overwhelming feeling of craving and queasiness comes over you as you picture Honey and her rum cocktails that you would normally enjoy during the holidays. You swallow the tightness in your throat and force a smile. “So you offered to look for me?” 

Taehyung grins, making it seem like he has no fault whatsoever for being where he shouldn’t be. “I’m currently free, so why not?” 

You scoff at him and shake your head when you fail to hide your smile. “Yeah, well. I doubt that they’ll be missing me.” 

There’s already Alia in the room with them to steal the show and everyone’s attention anyway, you silently wonder. 

And yours. 

Surprisingly, a frown forms on his face upon hearing this. “That’s where you’re wrong. Honey kept asking for you. Said something about making a special recipe for your, um…stomach bug,” he says with a small smile, and then lowers his voice to add, “and I also wondered why you weren’t there.” 

Your heart makes a sudden leap inside your chest. “Thank you for caring,” you say to him with a sarcastic tone of voice, trying not to look deeper into it or feel to happy about him looking for you. 

Having the flutter in your chest gives you more reason to walk away. “Please tell Honey I’m sorry that I can’t join her tonight. I’m not feeling up to it.” 

“Are you sure?” he asks before you can get away. “I remember that you enjoyed drinking sweet cocktails the last time we met. With how Honey kept bragging about it, I’m a bit curious to try the drinks she’s making. Don’t you? 

Of course, you would be interested, you wonder. But I can’t possibly drink whatever it is that Honey is concocting, even if I feel like I need a glass of whatever she is offering.

But he doesn’t need to know that yet—or should he? 

Suddenly, you start doubting yourself. You can feel the words hanging by the tip of your tongue already, the urge to spill everything to him right this moment grows so strongly as you look at his smug face. 

So what if he wanted to wait until the time is right to talk? When is the right time to talk about this? 

You take a quick glance around, noticing that you are all alone with him. This would be the perfect chance to tell him about the pregnancy, wouldn’t it?

“Maybe her cocktail can help you feel more at ease and less—tense,” he suddenly adds with a hint of a teasing tone in his voice that rubs you the wrong way, taking away every good will you ever have of talking to him properly about your ordeal. 

“Tomorrow’s Christmas Eve dinner. There’s going to be enough drinking then,” you say to him while gritting your teeth. But you know that it would be highly unlikely that you are going to drink even then. 

You realise that you will have to find more excuses tomorrow to avoid any alcoholic drinks being passed onto your hands. But you can figure that out later. You first need to figure out how to share him the news. 

“You should go back. Alia would be looking for you by now,” you say to him with a bite while avoiding his eyes as you try to walk around him, yet he stops you from running away again. 

This time, he isn’t using his words. 

Your entire body freezes as he catches your wrist. Once he knows that he has gotten you right where he wants you to, he starts pulling you gently back to him. You look up at his face, surprised that he would do something so daring when he was the one who had been so adamant about keeping your history with him a secret. 

“What are you doing?” you hiss at him, yet you don’t make a move to pull away. You throw a quick glance towards the hallway leading to the living room, worrying that someone might suddenly show up. “Are you crazy? What if someone comes here?” 

Taehyung steps closer until you can feel his warmth engulfing you. He only stops once his chest is merely a few inches away from yours. His move seems menacing, and so does the look in his eyes as he looks at your face. 

Those are the same eyes that had been looking back at you that night. You get to see the same look you saw then. Passionate. Enthralling. He grounds you with nowhere else to go even without having to restrain you to him, only refraining you from escaping him with nothing more but the look in his eyes. 

Suddenly, the room feels tight. As though there is not enough air in your chest for you to breathe, much less to speak. And he is getting too close for comfort. 

His hold on your wrist loosens, yet he doesn’t pull away. The dark look in his eyes also wanes, and he looks almost as if he is in pain when he leans down, getting even closer until your faces are almost touching each other. 

“Is it making you feel uneasy that I’m around? Is that why you keep running away from me when I’m there?” he questions you with a voice so soft that you would have missed it if he hasn’t been this close, with his lips hovering close to yours. 

So close that you can almost feel his kiss, even without touching. Each word he murmurs to you sends your skin shivering, while the cavities inside your chest seem to tighten on themselves when he whispers, “You might be able to ignore it and pretend nothing happened, but I can’t.” 

You take a sharp inhale of breath. What is he saying right now? 

Suddenly, you feel as if you have just walked into a dream. The same feeling that you had that night returns to you; all the sparks that seem to be floating in the air around you; the way your head seems to be in a haze, as if his entire presence is intoxicating you. 

And his words are making your head spin. 

Once again, you feel as if you are under his spell. But at the same time, you feel irritated at him for doing this. For choosing to act like this now, when he was just holding hands with your stepsister just moments ago.

While your irritation lights up, he rubs his thumb across your wrist, and the sparks explode around you like fireworks. “Tell me you’re not feeling it too.” 

And just like that, his voice snaps you right out of the spell that he placed on you. Closing your eyes, you suck a deep breath and try to compose yourself. 

“This isn’t right. Alia is in the next room,” you grit your teeth. You open your eyes and glare at him. “You were the one who told me not to tell Alia about us. Was that not your way of telling me to forget everything?” 

Taehyung’s eyes grow wide and he slowly pulls back. To his credit, his face is filled with shame when you remind him of his own words. 

Leaning closer, you whisper to him, doing your best to keep your voice from shaking when you question him, “Or do you make it a habit of jumping from one woman to another as long as it’s convenient for you?” 

He winces. Once again, he looks pained after hearing your accusation. “We’re going to talk. Once the time is right,” he whispers. He clenches his jaw, looking tense for a moment until he lets everything go with a sigh. “But you need to stop avoiding me.” 

You rear back, not expecting to find that he has noticed that you have been deliberately keeping your distance. 

How are you going to explain to him the reason why you can’t possibly stay in the same room with him? 

For you, the reason is quite obvious. You are still feeling it now, when your skin feels tight and your chest grows warm the longer you are in close proximity to him. Even when you entered a room once he left, you could still feel his presence lingering around you, and it was starting to drive you insane. 

And yes, seeing him with Alia bothers you so much that you can never bear being there to witness it.

After your last conversation where he made it seem like he wanted to move on and forget everything, you thought that he would only notice Alia and wouldn’t care to notice your predicament. But obviously, he isn’t completely oblivious to your turmoil. 

“I’m not avoiding you,” you insist. 

Taehyung raises his eyebrows. “Are you sure?” he questions you with an accusing tone. “I don’t think I imagined it when I saw you turning away and running out of the room whenever I came in.” 

He is right, and you find it impossible to lie about it when you barely tried to hide it.

Tired of holding out the truth, you finally admit to him with a small voice, “No, you’re not imagining things. Do you really think it’s fun for me to watch you both together with Alia getting all over you the entire time you’re here?” 

The light in his eyes dims. “I’m sorry, I didn’t—” he sighs, “I’ll talk to her so she can tone it down.”

You shake your head and chuckle bitterly. “Don’t bother. She’s your girlfriend. I’ll be out of here right after Christmas anyway.” 

This makes him frown. “Look, ______,” he starts, but you are too exhausted to deal with this right now to listen.

“I have to go,” you whisper as you pull your hand away. “We’ll have that talk—” 

Because there are a lot of things that I need to tell you.

“And then I’m gone and you can go back to Alia with her family thing on Christmas Day. But tomorrow night, we talk. Right after the family dinner.” 

Not bothering to wait for his response, you turn and walk away, once again leaving him behind in that dimly lit hallway as you search for solace, somewhere far, far away from him. 

Taehyung has been restless. 

He has been feeling uneasy for days. The truth is, it has been like this for him since the moment he stepped foot into Alia’s father’s house and saw you standing there. It has been a struggle to hide it and keep everything in. But last night, after talking to you again, the urge to speak to you about everything and explain himself has been growing even stronger. 

The look that you gave him when he first saw you has been haunting him, weighing him with guilt. Ever since that night six weeks ago, he has kept your smile deeply ingrained in his memory; the coy smile that you gave him as you flirted with him at the bar; the sultry look you wore when you clung onto him at the elevator while testing his limits with your lips tracing his neck; the content smile that he saw on your face the morning after the long, passionate night he shared with you before he took you again one last time. 

And yet, the smile that he kept wishing to see again for the past month was not there when he finally met you again. The expression that he has yearned to see had been replaced with shock, as you stood there looking like a deer caught in the headlights, while at the same time, you also seemed as if you had just witnessed someone kicking your puppy. 

Which was quite understandable, looking back at it now. It must have been a complete shock for you to see him entering your home, holding Alia’s hand and introducing himself as her boyfriend. Just as shocking it was for him to find out that you are Alia’s stepsister.

Fuck, how did things get so messed up?

”You’re not ready yet.”

Taehyung has been so out of it when he enters the motel’s bedroom that he fails to notice Alia watching him. Sitting right in front of the dressing table, she barely gives him a glance as she is busy putting on her makeup and doing her hair for the night. 

Normally, she doesn’t take this much time getting ready. But Taehyung understands that tonight is different. 

According to Alia, the family’s Christmas Eve dinner is a small annual gathering that is quite important for them. Held on behalf of Honey, who often spends the holiday with Cliff’s side of the family. It is when family members and second cousins would come to her Dad’s house to celebrate both the holidays and Honey’s good health. 

Ever since early this morning, Alia has been saying how she needs to look as her best self tonight—spoken in her own words—because she wants to make a good impression on her stepmother’s family. The only problem was that she also made it clear that she wanted Taehyung to play his role as her boyfriend perfectly, to continue to show that they have a great relationship right in front of everyone, just the same way he has been doing it for the past few days. 

It shouldn’t be bothering him so much that she would ask him to do this. Since that was the main reason why he is here in the first place. 

The original plan had been simple. All he had to do this holiday was to accompany Alia on her trip home to see her family. The family gathering from her mother’s side has always been so stressful, and he simply wanted to help her lessen the pressure so she could enjoy the holidays for once. 

Yet her mother’s special Christmas gathering tomorrow had not been the only thing that was bothering Alia before this holiday came around. Once Taehyung agreed to be her plus one, she extended her desperate plea for help by asking him to come with her as she spends Christmas and the upcoming days to it with her father’s family before heading to see her mother.  

He can’t remember well what Alia told him about having to be here. He understood the reason when it came to her mother, but he barely knew anything about her father’s family. He remembers her talking about something that had to do with clearing her name. Obviously, he should’ve paid more attention, and maybe he should’ve taken the time to know more about Cliff’s family. 

Not that it matters now. When he has travelled all the way here for this, and now he is stuck in this mess without having any clue how to fix it.   

“Taehyung?” 

Taehyung blinks. “What?” 

Alia doesn’t say a thing at first. For a moment, Taehyung wonders if she notices anything when she tilts her head at him, finally looking directly at him as if she is trying to read him. 

Yet he is proven wrong when Alia merely sighs. “I just said that you need to get ready,” Alia says, unaware of the battle happening inside Taehyung’s mind. Before he can say a thing, Alia averts her gaze and looks back at the mirror as if she is trying to solve a puzzle. “You need to look your best if you’re going to stay beside me and we’re going to be late if you’re not moving it.”  

Chuckling to himself, Taehyung walks over to stand right behind her. With his face appearing in the mirror, she has no choice but to look at him. “Should I wear my best suit tonight, then?” he taunts her as he leans down, breathing in her perfume that is a bit too extravagant to his liking. 

I was right, this perfume is nowhere near my taste, he says to himself, while he silently recalls breathing in your perfume and thinking just how much it suited you.

Alia looks up at him through the mirror and rolls her eyes. “You can wear whatever. A suit would be too much, since we’re having the dinner at home, not at some fancy and way too expensive restaurant like how my Mom would have it. You did bring your suit, didn’t you? Wear that at my Mom’s party tomorrow,” Alia instructs him, and for some reason, it doesn’t make him feel good about it.

Usually, he wouldn’t take it to heart and just laugh it off when she acts this bossy around him. Not this time, however. The entire situation has made him grow a bit resentful to her, something that he has been realising for a while now, even if it isn’t fair for her to be treated this way when it wasn’t really her fault. 

Alia keeps her eyes on the mirror when she continues to speak to him. “Wear that black jacket that you love so much. You always look good in it,” she says, flickering her gaze in a teasing way when she adds, “Even I would swoon when I see you wearing it, and that doesn’t happen a lot.” 

Taehyung scoffs at Alia and lowers his head to avoid her gaze. The black jacket brings back a lot of memories. He didn’t think much of it when he brought it with him on this trip, but maybe a part of him already felt that he would be needing it. 

Would it be okay to wear it tonight, right in front of her?

“Are you okay?” Alia’s voice snaps him out of his musings. As he looks up to meet her gaze through the mirror, she surprises him by not only softening her voice, but looking as if she is worried about him. “You know, you don’t seem like yourself lately.” 

How nice of you to notice, Taehyung wonders to himself but bites his tongue so he wouldn’t let those words slip. He has been wondering for a while now just how she could remain oblivious to everything that has been happening around her. 

If only she would notice how uncomfortable he feels whenever she clings to him, or how their act in front of her family bothers you so much. 

Maybe she does notice it, he muses. Maybe she’s been doing it on purpose by pushing it on him. Does it have to do with—

Before Taehyung could finish his own thoughts, Alia seems to have enough of his silence and turns on her seat to look at him straight in the eyes. 

“What is it? Spill.” 

Taehyung only continues to remain silent, having no idea how to answer that question or if he should try to. Even if he can explain himself, where should he even start? 

Is this the part where he needs to tell her that her stepsister—the reason why Alia decided to come to see her Dad after spending weeks complaining that she didn’t have any desire to, and also the reason why she is trying so damn hard to impress everyone this holiday, even to the point of bringing Taehyung home to meet her family—was his last sex partner? 

“You need to tell her.” 

Taehyung closes his eyes as your voice echoes through his head, as if you are the voice of his conscience. 

You were right. He needs to tell Alia about his connection to you. But knowing her mood swings, and the reason why she has been trying to be ‘perfect’ the entire time she was spending time with Cliff’s family, he was hoping that he could postpone talking to her about it until tonight’s big family dinner is done. 

An event that Alia claimed to be more important for her than her mother’s fancy family gathering. 

No, I need to talk to her first, he decides. Maybe we could figure something out once she knows everything. 

“Nothing. I’m just overwhelmed. You didn’t tell me—” he stops himself as he almost let it slip that it was your presence that bothers him. 

You didn’t tell me anything about your stepsister. 

He keeps those words to himself. But he makes a mental note to bring it up once he gets back to her again by the end of the night to have a different kind of conversation to the one he is having with you. “So, black jacket, huh? Got it.” 

“Good, now go get ready and make it quick. The trip from here back to Dad’s house will take some time,” Alia says with a sigh as she turns back to the mirror, her concern is quick to vanish as she proceeds to complain, “We could’ve spared that trip if you hadn’t insisted that we stay in this motel instead of using the guest room like me and my Dad suggested.” 

“I already told you,” Taehyung says with a deep chuckle, leaning back down again to whisper, “I’m a terrible actor.” 

He straightens up while looking pleased with himself for drawing a frown on Alia’s face. “And being in your Dad’s house the entire time we’re here would cost me too much work. The gig would’ve been up before you know it.” 

“Fine, whatever. Just go,” Alia waves him off. 

Taehyung nods and makes his way to the door. He stops before he opens it and asks her, “Remember what I asked earlier?” 

Once again, Alia rolls her eyes at him. “Yeah, yeah, tone it down with the clingy girlfriend act. I get it. Now go get ready, we’re going to be late.” 

Taehyung breathes a sigh of relief to hear it. He can’t seem to forget the way the light in your eyes seemed to dim when you talked about the way he kept putting on the new couple act in front of you. On top of this whole mess, the last thing he wants is to leave you feeling hurt by his actions, so he made a deal with Alia to tone it down, even if he couldn’t explain to her the reason why. 

Pleased to know that Alia is listening to him for once, and that he has at least one problem handled before tonight, Taehyung leaves Alia’s motel room, closing the door behind him with a click before he goes to his own room to get ready.

You turn to your side and have a good look at yourself in the mirror. On instinct, your hands run down your belly, pressing down gently at the spot where the baby should be. 

The knitted dress that you have chosen to wear tonight may not be the fanciest one, but it is the one that feels comfortable on your skin. It isn’t tight enough on your body to make you feel self-conscious about yourself and definitely not enough to show the changes happening in your body. 

With just over six weeks of gestation, the baby bump isn’t showing that much yet. But you can still feel the way your body is changing. Perhaps it is all happening in your mind, only from knowing that you are keeping a living being inside you, but you can almost see it when you look at yourself in the mirror that you cannot help but try to do anything you can to hide it from your family. 

For now, at least. Only until you are ready to reveal everything to them. 

Thinking about this only makes you grow more anxious. You have been feeling this way since morning, all for the thought of having to face Taehyung again, and to finally talk about everything that is needed to be said before the night ends. 

“Tonight,” you tell yourself as you straighten up to look at your reflection in the mirror for one last time. “I’m going to tell him about the baby tonight.” 

Tonight will be the only chance you will ever have to talk to him, after all.  

Tomorrow, Taehyung will join Alia to visit her birth mother. Alia’s mother has always held a massive luncheon or dinner event on Christmas Day that Alia would be required to attend, so you doubt that she would miss it this year, even if you had always overheard her complaining about it to your stepfather.  

Every year, Alia would always prioritise her mother’s family event over her father’s during the holiday season. Coming from a wealthy family, Alia’s mother had always appeared to you like a different breed. Her holiday parties had always been so fancy, almost too extravagant compared to your family’s simple ones. 

Every year, Alia would focus on preparing for those events, always stressing about it before going, and barely focusing on her days spent with her father and his family that it did come as a surprise to you when she came early this year to join your family and to even get herself involved. 

Perhaps that was the reason why she had decided to bring a date with her this time around, and to introduce her boyfriend to the family like you did with your ex. 

Shaking the thoughts of Alia out of your mind, you finish getting ready and walk over to your purse. With gentle fingers, you pull out the sonogram that you had printed during your latest trip to the doctor. 

Holding it up under the light, you brush your fingertips across the blurry image of your growing baby. Sometimes it is still hard for you to process the fact that you are carrying a human child within you. Even through the nausea, the cravings, the lethargy, and any other peculiar things that have become parts of your life as of late, you still have a hard time grasping this fact. 

But this sonogram shows you the undeniable proof that the baby is there. You had even gotten the chance to hear the baby’s faint heartbeat on your last appointment, making it clear that you are carrying a life inside you. 

A life that seems so fragile, that you have developed a strong urge to protect it from the world. Even from its father, if he ever tries to deny or reject it. 

“It’s going to be okay,” you whisper to yourself while brushing your fingers on the picture again, speaking of it like a mantra. At the same time, it also feels as if you are talking to your baby, soothing it like you would if the baby is here with you. “Everything’s going to be okay. Let’s just get through tonight first.” 

For a moment, you contemplate between carrying the sonogram with you or to leave it here. With no purse or a pocket to hide it in, you finally decide to leave it on top of the bedside table until you are ready to show it to Taehyung later tonight. 

With one last look at the mirror, you rub your palms down your dress and give yourself the final pep talk before heading out. “Let’s go,” you whisper to yourself as you walk out of your bedroom, strengthening your shoulders and keeping your chin up as you prepare yourself to face the inevitable.

It’s finally Christmas Eve. 

The holiday spirit hasn’t completely sunk in on you until you finally sat down at the table for the annual Christmas dinner, surrounded by your immediate family and the family members that you haven’t met for a period of time while you have been pursuing your dreams away in the city. 

Outside, the temperature has dropped down even lower than before. The layer of snow that your stepfather had spent hours shovelling away are piling up with fresh ones as snowflakes keep falling from the evening sky, while the windows would tremble once or twice with the flowing breeze that seemed to have picked up as the day turned into evening. 

Inside, however, the warmth of the festive season fills the air, as everyone gathers around the overflowing feast that has been set up on the table—your grandmother’s specially made ham and turkey with the additional main of lamb skewers and turkey meatballs, Aunt Dara’s potato bake and baked salmon, and Uncle Marco’s signature casseroles, with smaller bowls of side dishes set on the side. 

A couple of bowls of the fennel salad that you helped prepare are being passed around on the table. Once everyone is done with their meal, your home-made cinnamon bread rolls and your cousin June’s apple and caramel pie are ready to be served as desserts. 

Once everyone has filled the dining room, your mother’s Christmas decorations which you perviously thought was overdone no longer seemed as much. The twinkling lights and the fragrant pine garlands adorning the room are enough to rival the festive sweaters and bright-coloured dresses that everyone is wearing for the night. The scent of cinnamon and cloves wafts around you all the way from the kitchen, and it makes your head swim even without sipping on the champagne that are being passed around.

As everyone took their seats at the table, you stepfather stepped aside to let Honey take the head of the table as the matriarch of the family and the night’s host. The radiant smile on her face which never seems to wane sets the mood in the entire room, helping you to also forget about your personal troubles that no longer seem as dire as your mind had made them up to be. 

The laughter and chatter filling the room becomes the perfect distraction that you need to pay no heed to the unwavering gaze that Taehyung keeps stealing your way. Even as he chats with June who had sat down by his side, Taehyung continues to throw a few not-so-subtle glances your way, making you feel uneasy and self-conscious whenever you aren’t having your attention dragged away from your younger cousin, Maya, who is chattering right beside you while sipping her glass of champagne.

You turn your gaze at Alia, who had chosen to sit by Cliff’s brother, Kyle, who had decided to join your family this year. Too busy catching up with her uncle, she doesn’t seem to notice her own boyfriend’s wandering eyes. She doesn’t even seem to care as much as she should, you realise, as you have also noticed that she hasn’t been clinging or openly doting on Taehyung throughout the night since they had gotten back from the motel. 

It has given you a sense of relief, because you can finally have one night where your heart isn’t being crushed from watching them together, but also a twinge of guilt, knowing that your last conversation with Taehyung may have had something to do with it. She did appear tense when she first came in, and you never figured out why when it quickly faded the moment she saw her uncle in the room, and her stiff expression quickly turned into relief. 

The sounds of glasses clinking and the pouring champagne continues on as everyone is starting to finish their meal. Nursing the glass of fresh juice that you have had all through dinner, you hope that nobody notices that you have left the glass of champagne on your side mostly untouched—apart from the occasional raise of the glass when someone makes a toast or pressing your lips lightly on its rim to disguise the fact that you are not drinking any drop of it. 

Not too long, dinner is over, and everyone filters into the spacious living room to gather around the fireplace while the kids loiter around the Christmas tree to curiously shift through the wrapped presents to try and find which one of them would be theirs. 

There are a selective few that separate themselves to head out to the back porch to smoke and talk business—mostly your male cousins—while the others quickly follow Honey to where she has set up the minibar for her signature rum cocktails and act as the designated bartender for the night. 

As you follow to join everyone in the living room, the impending conversation that you are about to have with Taehyung keeps weighing you down, making you grow more anxious with each passing second. It makes you feel vulnerable, causing you to be hyper-aware of his presence inside the room even before you catch the sight of him mingling with your family. 

Moving one feet after the other without tripping feels like a struggle under the heat of his gaze. It bothers you to no end to notice that Taehyung seems to have disregarded any last bit of subtlety, when he is now openly staring at you even while he is chatting with someone else by the Christmas tree. 

You have no idea if anyone, especially Alia, has noticed it. You wouldn’t be surprised if someone has caught on, when he makes it so obvious that he is watching you from across the room. 

The only reprieve that you have to cover you from Taehyung’s gaze and the silent questions that may linger within any observant pair of eyes would be your grandmother, Honey, who steals most of the attention by running the show as she mixes her sweet cocktails and shares new stories about her friends back at her apartment complex and gossips that she heard recently from the neighbours here. 

“Congratulations.” 

A deep voice greets you, pulling you out of the stupor that you are in. You look over to see Kyle, your stepfather’s younger brother, coming to your side. 

It was a nice surprise to see him this year to join your family gathering, as your step-uncle has been working at another state for the past year and you haven’t seen each other since. Carrying a glass of wine with him—red, just the way he enjoys it—instead of a glass of cocktail, he gives you a warm smile that looks like a mirror image to his older brother. 

“I heard from your Dad that you just got another promotion. I’m guessing that this gathering is part of the celebration too?” he asks, while your skin warms at the mention of your stepfather. 

For as long as you could remember, you have been calling Cliff as ‘Dad’. You can no longer remember how it started, but ever since you were little, the only ‘Dad’ you have ever known has been Cliff, not the birth father who had been gone almost your entire life. He may not be your birth father, and there has been no talking about him adopting you yet, but he is the one and only Dad that you’ll ever know. 

Having someone else noticing and acknowledging it feels gratifying. Especially when it is coming from his side of the family. 

Nodding your head, you answer your step-uncle with a bashful smile. “Yeah, that’s what Honey said and she insisted that we host the annual dinner this year instead of Aunt Dara. But we all know that she’s the main star of the show,” you joke with him as you nod your chin to point at Honey, who is teasing your mother about dropping rum into her hot cocoa instead of taking one of her sweet cocktails. 

Kyle laughs with you as he watches the scene. “Still, you should be proud of yourself.” 

“Oh, I am proud,” you answer him with a smile. “I worked hard for it, but I’m feeling a bit guilty too since the busier I had gotten, the lesser I was able to make time to contact my parents.” 

Your step-uncle nods. “You can’t help it. That’s often the cost of building a career,” he says, understanding your situation, as he too has the same troubles of making time for his family with his busy life. 

“But your parents would understand. In fact, your Dad has been bragging about his girls quite a lot lately. One who keeps traveling across the globe to see the world, while the other who keeps climbing the corporate ladder, and I have to say—” he sighs, “I’m kind of jealous.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Has he now?” you chuckle a little, somehow feeling good about being your stepfather’s pride. “Oh, you shouldn’t be feeling too jealous of Dad. You know your kids are doing great too. They’re both in college now, aren’t they?”

At the mention of his children, Kyle’s eyes seem to grow brighter. He speaks with a voice full of pride as he talks about the two young boys who had just returned from the back porch and now huddling in front of the fireplace to warm up while bickering on their own. 

You stay to talk to him for a while longer, until your stepfather steals him away to share a bottle of a much stronger liquor in another room and you continue to mingle with the other family members that you haven’t met for a while. 

By the time you are done catching up, the object of your frustration—who is coincidentally also the father of your baby—forgotten, you are feeling drained and your legs are giving up from standing for too long that you unceremoniously collapse on the couch in the corner of the room without a single care. 

For a moment, you find calmness by sitting on your own, staying in the corner where you are mostly unnoticed. The festivities is still high around you, but you find freedom here, away from everyone’s attention. Too bad that you aren’t given the chance to savour it when someone decides to slide in and sit right next to you. 

“So—I suppose that aside from the cocktail tasting, the gift exchange is going to be the main part of the night’s event, huh?” 

A shudder rocks through your body. His deep, distinctive voice does that to you even when you hear it in your dreams. Taking a deep breath, you compose yourself before turning to him, hoping that you have enough strength to look at his face without feeling like your heart is about to burst. 

Slowly, you turn to look at him, and immediately, your entire body betrays you. Your heartbeat picks up, and the cavity in your chest is overflowing with gentle flutters, as if there are a thousand of butterfly wings inside you coming awake with just one look at his face. Taehyung lets his gaze linger on the children who are showing off their wrapped gifts to their parents before looking back at you. 

Your cheeks burn the moment your eyes meet each other, and you look away before it gets too much. “Yes, we’re exchanging gifts before the night ends, and then everyone will go on their merry way. Some drunk, while relying on their designated drivers or a cab, and some others to continue with their own thing back home,” you explain to him while trying to keep your voice calm. “It started mostly with Honey being the one giving out the gifts on the Eve, since it’s her thing to give something to everyone she cares about.” 

A smile is lifted on your face while you watch Honey handing out small wrapped boxes of gifts to the children first before the older ones get their turns. The cheerful laughter shared by everyone who has received Honey’s special gifts fills the room. Curious expressions that quickly turn into joy has always been the high point of these Christmas gatherings in your family. 

You should be there to join them, to enjoy the festivities, yet with everything that has been going on, you are feeling too overwhelmed to take part in it. “After a while, the relatives who are often invited to these things started joining in, bringing in their own gifts in addition to the plates of food that they bring for dinner.” 

“Sounds like so much fun,” Taehyung muses. “Everyone seems to be enjoying themselves.” 

“Why are you sitting back here? Aren’t you supposed to be with Alia?” you question him as you wonder why he would be so daring to join you instead of staying by his girlfriend’s side and play his role as her plus one. “You could’ve asked Alia about these things.”

Taehyung grins. “She’s busy with her own thing. Besides, every time I ask her about these things, she would just brush it off and tell me to ask someone else.” 

Frowning, you find his comment to be odd. It isn’t something that you could expect to hear from a new couple such as them. Lest of all from one half of the couple that haven’t been shy with their constant public display of affection from the day they arrived. 

Once again avoiding Taehyung’s gaze as he looks at you again, you find Alia across the room, conversing with one of Kyle’s sons. Judging from the way she seems to be enjoying herself with the glass of cocktail in her hand, she doesn’t seem to care much about what her boyfriend is up to, much less to feel curious enough to find him. 

That’s odd, but it’s not really my problem, is it?  

You remind yourself and put your curiosity aside. “You could’ve asked Honey. You seem to have grown closer to her lately,” you tease Taehyung, pointing out how often he has been spending time with your grandmother whenever he isn’t busy helping others in the house or catering to Alia’s need for attention. 

Taehyung chuckles softly. “How could I bother the host of the party? Look at her enjoying herself. She’s the superstar tonight, so I’d rather not take her out of the spotlight just to be my guide.” 

Even without looking, you can hear the smile in his voice as he talks about your grandmother. And when you look ahead, you can obviously see that he isn’t completely wrong. 

Honey is clearly having the time of her life; whether it’s about watching the happy faces receiving her gifts or seeing people enjoying the drinks she is making. She may have lessened her own drinking habit—except for the occasional drop of rum that she sneaks into her hot drinks—but she still knows how to make amazing sweet and fruity cocktails for others to enjoy. 

That should explain why you have the penchant for sweet alcoholic drinks instead of the bitter ones whenever you feel like it.

“So,” you turn to Taehyung with a sly smile. “I guess that means I’ve earned the honour to answer your questions?” 

Taehyung seems surprised to see that you smiling back at him. His gaze softens, and so does his voice when he leans closer to say, “You’re the only person I know in this room.” 

Fuck. Your cheeks shouldn’t be getting warm just because he says something like this. You look away to hide it. “Is Alia the jealous type? Would it bother her to see us chatting as friendly as we do now?” 

Taehyung scoffs. “I don’t think she even bothers to notice. Not tonight, anyway.” 

“Yeah…she can be the least perceptive person in the room sometimes,” you sigh as you watch your stepsister joking with her cousin without a single glance at her boyfriend. Realising what you just said, you turn to Taehyung to apologise. “Sorry, that was uncalled for.”

“It’s fine,” he scoffs. “Trust me, I know it full well from experience.” 

There is a sarcastic tone in his voice that should have made you wonder about his comment. Yet there is a bitterness that you feel inside after hearing those words. Of course, he would have enough experience dealing with Alia’s attitude. 

They are dating, after all. 

You look away and bite back that bitter taste in your tongue. “Right, of course.” 

Unlike Alia who can be completely insensitive to her surroundings, Taehyung notices your change of mood right away. You feel him sliding closer, just enough to allow him to speak in a low voice, but not enough to make people grow curious or suspicious that something is going on between the two of you. 

“You promised that we could talk,” he says, almost a whisper under the noises around you.  

Your stomach feels tight with nerves. It’s time. “I did, and we do,” you say to him while clenching your hands. You are beginning to wonder if you had made the right decision of leaving the sonogram behind. Maybe bringing him back to your bedroom wouldn’t be a good idea. “I have—something to tell you. Something important.” 

Taehyung nods. “Do you think we can slip out of the room unnoticed?” 

“You mean…now? You want to do it right now?” you hiss at him, glancing at Alia before looking back at him again. “Wouldn’t Alia be looking for you?” 

Taehyung merely scoffs. “Like I said, she’s busy. Once she gets a few more glasses of drink, she’ll be more focused on looking for a sofa to lie down on instead of noticing that I’m gone.” 

As if on cue, Alia’s laughter echoes through the room, and she turns away to joke with both of her male cousins now. You also notice that she has somehow gotten a fresh glass of cocktail in her hand, and she must have drank it halfway already by the looks of it. 

Looking around the room, you notice that the guests crowding the living room is slowly dwindling. Most of your relatives who had gotten enough of Honey’s cocktail and received their gifts are starting to bid their goodbyes, hoping that they could return home before it gets too late and preferably before each of their designated drivers join in with the drinking. Yet there are some family members who have yet to show any sign of leaving soon, still enjoying their chat with Honey by the Christmas tree. 

There will be no other chance, you tell yourself as you silently make a decision. The lesser people there are left, the more obvious it would be for everyone that you had gone missing from the room. 

And with whom you may have disappeared together. 

“Can you, uh—meet me in my room in about ten minutes, maybe less? I think we can get some privacy there and people don’t normally get upstairs unless they’re staying the night.” And because I left the sonogram there. 

That’s right, it would be easier to show the sonogram to him right away when you tell him everything, just as how you initially planned it, even if you haven’t been too sure about it. “I’ll have to mingle a bit more and make sure that Honey can see me before I disappear. She’ll be looking for me if I don’t join her even if for a minute.” 

“Yeah, I can do that,” Taehyung says as he straightens up, “You go ahead and talk to Honey, and I’ll sneak us out some drinks so we have something to do while we talk.”  

“Drinks. Right. Good idea,” you simply say to him, not bothering to try and turn down his offer, or to insist him to bring you the non-alcoholic ones. He’ll figure things out later once you are alone with him anyway. 

With a nod, Taehyung rises from his seat and walks over to June, your cousin who seems to have gotten along with Taehyung over dinner. You wait for a few more minutes before making your move. Honey seems to be busy as more and more relatives are preparing to leave. So you turn to Aunt Dara and have a quick chat with her, making sure that the two of you remain within Honey’s peripheral vision so she can still see you. 

Too restless to linger around and stay a bit longer, in not more than five minutes, you end your conversation and turn away from your aunt, hoping that you can slip away from the room before anyone notices your stealthy escape. Not even Honey. Because the moment you are caught by your grandmother, you know it would make it even harder for you to leave the room. 

But just as you slip through the guests, staying clear from your mother’s relatives who are crowding Honey, your grandmother catches the sight of you and calls out—

“______, there you are. We were just talking about you. Come over here,” she says, waving her hand so you can join her and the small group that still remains to accompany her after a couple of more relatives have left the party. 

Fuck. Too late. 

Forcing a smile, you slither towards her, practically dragging your feet. “What is it, Honey?” 

Honey leans against the minibar and picks up a small bottle. She continues mixing and pouring the drinks as she starts talking to you, “I was just talking to them about your recent promotion and how proud you made us. And then Jennie here shared that she is starting a new job and moving to the same city where you work. I told them that you have a big apartment that I love so much—” 

You roll your eyes and laugh. “Honey, I already told you. I don’t own the place, I rent it with a roommate.” 

“Anyway,” she brushes you off, “I wondered if you could be a dear and help Jennie out to find a nice apartment. You know people in the city can be a bit sneaky. We’ve heard stories of young girls getting scammed the first time they’ve gone into a big city, so obviously, I was worried.” 

Before you can say anything, Jennie raises her hand and cuts in, “I told Honey that I’ve already been looking up at a few places so—”

Jennie’s voice fades in and out and you can barely focus on what she is trying to tell you. Something about making arrangements with property agents to look up for a few affordable apartments not far from where you live. But your attention is being drawn elsewhere, as you notice from the corner of your eyes, that Taehyung is nodding at June and walking away, barely giving you a glance as he slides towards the small corner table filled with bottles of beer to grab the drinks he promised you. 

“You know what, why don’t you call me up once you start moving. Maybe you can crash at my place and use the couch while you’re looking. Then I’ll see if I can arrange my schedules to go with you when you’re looking into those apartments so you won’t have to go alone.” 

“That sounds great!” Jennie says, looking relieved, and you see it as a chance to also slip away so you can get to your bedroom before Taehyung could. 

“Honey, I—” 

“See? I told you that _____ is an angel,” Honey cuts you off before you can get a word out. Then she turns to you, handing you the glass of cocktail that she was mixing while you were chatting with your cousin. 

“Here, you should try this. I made this specially for you,” she says as she gives the drink a few more stirs. “I remember that you loved the rose scented drinks I bought you, so I ordered this infused—” 

You bite your lips, trying to hide away your revulsion as Honey raises the glass to you so you can take it from her. On reflect, you lift your hands to refuse. “No, thank you, Honey. I’m sorry, but I’m not in the mood for cocktails right now. I’ve just finished my hot chocolate, after all.” 

“That’s too bad. Well, I guess someone else has to taste this one for me.” She pouts, making you feel guilty for refusing her offer as she lowers her hand. “Speaking of which, I haven’t seen you drinking tonight. In fact, I haven’t seen you drink any alcoholic drink at all this holiday. Are you sure you’re not pregnant?”

Your stomach drops. An incredulous laugh leaves your lips. “W-what?” 

What did she say? You wonder. You must’ve heard her wrong. Right?

Honey shrugs as she puts away the rejected drink and places it on top of the minibar. “Seeing how you keep getting sick and avoiding alcoholic drinks since you got here, I would think that you’re secretly pregnant,” she says while laughing and looking proud, as if she was simply throwing her crude joke as she usually does without realising how spot on it was to the truth. “Are you carrying a child in that belly, dear?” 

The room falls into a rapt hush after Honey throws that comment into the room. You can feel everyone’s eyes on you, while Honey remains unfazed, still wearing her curious smile as if she hasn’t done anything wrong. 

“Honey? W-what are you saying?” you nervously ask her, while your sweet grandmother merely shrugs and innocently waves you off. 

“Oh, it’s nothing, sweetie. Just thinking out loud. It’s just that seeing you get sick every morning, and being so sensitive with certain smells reminds me a lot of myself when I was pregnant with your Mom. You haven’t even touched a drop of alcohol I offered since you got home, and I know that you barely touched your glass of champagne during dinner,” she says with a wicked chuckle. “Don’t pretend that you didn’t. You tried to hide it, but I knew. I have eyes, you know.” 

Fuck. I didn’t think she would notice. 

Gritting your teeth, you can only curse at yourself for acting such a fool. You thought you were being clever about it, but you must have been distracted by Taehyung’s presence at dinner that you failed to notice that Honey had kept her eyes on you all night. 

“I—” 

You try to speak, but words fail you. How do you respond? What do you say to this? 

Ever since from the moment you came back home, you had expected that Honey would be the one who is able to put the pieces together, being the perceptive person that she is, and she had been the reason why you have been extra careful in hiding it, especially when you were around her. 

Never once did you ever expect that she would so quick to draw up this conclusion and speak of it so nonchalantly with a few relatives are still around. 

“Mom, stop talking nonsense,” your mother gently chastises your grandmother while laughing nervously. She looks back and forth between you and her mother, her eyes flickering on your face, then to your belly, as if she is trying to find what she has been missing. “_____ can’t be pregnant. Right, sweetie?” 

Your tears begin to form. “I, uh—I don’t—” 

Your head starts spinning harder the more you try to speak up, to explain, knowing that it would be futile to lie. Not to Honey. And certainly not to your parents. 

Under the attention and distress, feeling the burden of having all eyes on you, all of them waiting for your answer, your hands move on their own, finding comfort in embracing the very spot where your growing baby is hidden as you press your palms on your barely-there bump. Noticing this, a collective gasp spreads through the room. Honey’s smile falters, while your mother’s eyes grow wide in shock. 

But the most devastating of all is to see your stepfather walking around his brother to get to you from across the room. “You’re pregnant?” Cliff asks you carefully as he slowly comes to your side. When you look up at is shock slowly turns into rage when he asks, “Is that why that prick left you? Did he get you pregnant and choose to walk away like a fucking coward?” 

“No, Dad. I—” 

While you are struggling to answer him, your stepfather’s voice continues to rise. “Tell me where he is and I’ll chase that fucker—” 

Everything moves in slow motion. Your stepfather who keeps cursing at your ex. Your Mom who keeps pulling him back to try and calm him down, and her pleading gaze silently asking you to explain. The whispering gasps and questions shared among the nervous glances that the guests are sending each other.

Everyone is talking at the same time, while you continue having a hard time to speak up. Your stomach feels tight. Even the touch of your hands no longer bring the calming warmth that your body needs. 

Gentle hands press down on your arms as you are slowly being pulled away from the chaos. You can only make out Jennie and Honey’s voices whispering to you, guiding you to breathe while helping you to sit down before you would pass out. 

Amidst the confusion, your eyes travel across the room, immediately finding Taehyung who is standing there in the corner with a frown on his face and a couple of bottles of drinks in his hands. As your eyes are locked with one another from the distance, you can see him processing through everything. His emotions are clearly written in his gaze; confusion, bewilderment, wonder. 

You have no idea what kind of look that he sees on your face, but slowly, you can tell that everything seems to sink in on him. A dawning realisation sparks through his eyes when he finally puts the pieces together, and his shoulders fall to slump.

He knows. 

And he isn’t the only one who is putting the pieces together. 

With a quick glance, you find Alia standing on the other side of the room, her eyes keep flickering between you and Taehyung, evidently noticing the silent exchange happening between the two of you. There is a clear sign of shock and hurt in her eyes that you get to see a glimpse of when she looks at you one last time, before she turns away and runs out of the room. 

“You need to rest. The stress wouldn’t be good for you.” 

Jennie’s voice sounds subdued, worrying. She has always been shy, but she seems particularly cautious as she looks at you. As if she is trying her best not to look down at your belly. But her presence here and her small, careful voice offers you comfort. Something that you need as you lean against the doorway to your bedroom, feeling a bit too weak to stand on your own. 

“I’m sorry you got entangled in all of this,” is all that you can say to her. You feel guilty for having your cousin and your aunt roped into this whole drama, all because they had been there to witness it when everything unfolded. 

While your step-uncle, Kyle, took over escorting the departing guests, and your mother is somewhere in the house to talk with your stepfather, Jennie had volunteered to help escort you back to your room. She becomes the calming force amidst the storm that helps clear your mind. 

“It’s fine,” she waves you off. “You’ll be paying me back once I’ve moved closer to you anyway. The couch is still available, right? You said I could crash until I’m settled.” 

That helps bring a smile to your face. “Yes, my door is always open. I’ll let my roommate know that you’re coming. She’s usually open to welcoming family who needs help anyway,” you say to her with full gratitude before adding, “Thank you for staying to help.” 

She nods and begins to turn away. “I better go check on Honey and see if my Mom is ready to go. I’ll see you soon.” 

Too exhausted to say anything else, you simply thank her one last time and watch her go down the hall before closing the door. Once again, the silence in your bedroom gives you the perfect solace. It does nothing to erase the weight in your chest, however, or give you the answer you need as you wonder how you are going to talk to Taehyung about the whole thing. 

You never expected that things would turn into such a mess, robbing any chance of you telling Taehyung about the baby properly, free of drama and uncertainty. 

Just as you start dragging your feet towards the bed, you hear a soft knocking on the door, pulling you back to it. Thinking it might be Jennie, you immediately open it. “Did you forget—” Your voice falls to a hush when you find Taehyung standing there instead, giving you a small smile that draws back all the slow flutters in your chest. 

“Oh, hi.”

“Hey,” he gently greets you. His smile is cautious, restrained, and his exhale of breath seems shaky. But he sounds calm when he speaks to you, “May I come in?” 

You prepare yourself to answer, but your eyes flicker out the hallway, searching, a gesture that he easily notices. “Alia is with your parents. They’re worried about you, but your Mom seemed a bit frantic because she didn’t see the signs. Alia probably won’t be looking for me until later. I wanted to talk to you first.” 

“Okay,” you answer him with a sigh of relief. “Come in,” you beckon him, stepping aside so he can enter your room. 

He steps deeper into your room while you take your time, gathering courage before you can turn to face him. His voice fills your room as he continues to talk, “I left our drinks downstairs. Things were so chaotic, so it slipped my mind—” 

“That’s okay, it’s—” you say in return, failing to notice that his voice has faded out into silence. When you finally turn to him, you find him standing in front of your bedside table, his eyes are locked on the tiny thing that he is holding up under the dim light of the bedroom. 

He found the sonogram. 

“How far along are you?” His voice seems quiet against your thundering heartbeat, drowning even in the silence surrounding you.

You draw an unsteady breath before speaking up. “Six weeks, give or take.” 

Taehyung remains silent for a moment longer before a sigh comes out of him. “Is this what you wanted to talk to me about?” he asks, still with his eyes on the sonogram. His expression is unreadable, something which you cannot fault him with, knowing that this must have come as a shock to him. 

“I’m sorry, I should’ve gone to you sooner,” you quickly apologise to him. A part of you wants to rush by his side, even if you cannot decide whether you want to calm and soothe him or rip that sonogram from his hand. Yet your legs seem frozen, and you are locked at one spot with no ability to move.  

“From the moment I found out, I was planning to find you and figure out how to share the news to you in person, but then you showed up here with Alia, and I got”—blindsided, aghast, confused, terrified—”I just couldn’t figure out how to do it.” 

“So, I was right. This baby is mine.” 

Just as he says those words, you finally understand the look that he is wearing on his face. Captivated. Entranced. Amused. As if this revelation is more fascinating to him rather than it is frightening. It brings a twinge of hope rising inside you, telling you that maybe you can both figure out on how to deal with this. 

But what about Alia? 

“It was from that night, wasn’t it?” he asks again, breaking you out of your thoughts—from thinking about Alia. And you can almost sure that you catch the corner of his lips lifting to a smile.

“Yeah,” you cautiously say to him. “It happened the night we got together. I’ve never been with anyone else since—” 

“What is this all about?” A deep voice bellows through your small bedroom, cutting through your words before you can finish talking. Both you and Taehyung turn to the door, noticing too late that your stepfather is standing there, watching the two of you with grief and horror in his eyes. 

“Dad—what you are doing here?” you ask him as your eyes flicker towards the door behind him. 

Crap. Distracted by your own nerves that had been affected by Taehyung’s arrival, you must have failed to shut the door tightly behind you. 

“I came to check on you and apologise for freaking out,” Cliff says, frown deepening, his voice and the expression you see on his face convey a mixture of anger and hurt. “But what is he doing in here?” he continues, pointing at Taehyung. “Why is he in your room, when he’s supposed to be with Alia?” 

The atmosphere grows heavier, yet Taehyung—the brave soul that he is—carefully steps forward to face your stepfather. “Cliff, I can explain—”

“And what did I just heard about the two of you being together? Is that baby—” Cliff turns to point at you, then back at Taehyung again while keeping his eyes on you, expecting you to answer him. “Was he the one responsible?” 

Still holding the sonogram in his hand, Taehyung straightens his shoulders and lifts his chin. And it seems to be enough to answer your stepfather’s question. But what it only does is to aggravate Cliff even more. The air crackles with his rage, and he moves so fast—too fast for your mind to comprehend—as he grabs the front of Taehyung’s shirt and starts dragging him out of your bedroom. 

“Dad, no!” 

The moment you see your stepfather dragging Taehyung out the door, that is when you snap out of it and start running to chase them. As you run out the door, you see Alia who was clearly on her way to your bedroom. Her eyes are wide with shock, and though you are unable to interpret the gloss in her eyes—whether they are tears of hurt or her tipsiness—you can tell that she has been standing there long enough before anyone noticed.

But was she there long enough to hear everything?  

“Daddy? What are you doing?” Alia screams out, though she doesn’t make any move, seemingly in shock to see her father dragging Taehyung across the hallway. 

“Alia, you need to stop him!” 

Your scream snaps her out of her shock, and she quickly rushes to chase both men down the stairs. You try to follow them as fast as you can, but your heart is racing, your legs feel weak, you can barely manage to come down the stairs without tumbling down. 

“Careful!” Alia snaps at you in panic as she catches you at the final flight of stairs. You lift your head to thank her for helping you, only for her to give you no chance to as she turns away right after, chasing after her Dad who is now dragging her boyfriend out the yard. 

Once the both of you are out the house, you can hear your stepfather’s voice bellowing through the air. His accusations echo through the chilly night, his eyes are blazing with frustration and rage, and he still has his hand pulling at Taehyung’s shirt, nearly lifting him off the ground as he continues shouting profanities between his grievance. 

“—the fuck are you trying to pull?” he yells at Taehyung’s face, and you wince at how loud he is being against the silent night. 

The only relief you can savour is the fact that he hasn’t gone physical. No hits are thrown, and the only rough handling he has been doing is to shake Taehyung back and forth with his tight grip on his shirt as he demands the truth. An answer. Anything that could clear this whole misunderstanding.

Taehyung’s eyes dart over Cliff’s shoulder as he notices you and Alia coming. Your stepfather follows his gaze and is caught by surprised to see you chasing him. But as he looks at you, his gaze hardens as he pleads, “Tell me that it’s not true. Tell me that you weren’t sleeping with him while he’s seeing your sister.” 

No, it’s not true. They weren’t together. You remember hearing Taehyung denying it when you first questioned it, so it must’ve been the truth. Right?  

The night you hooked up with him flashes through your head. That night from six weeks ago, the shared moment that he claimed to be a time where he hadn’t gotten involved with Alia. You want to speak up, to deny that he was playing both you and Alia, that the only thing behind this whole mess had been mere coincidence. 

If only you could stop shaking. Get some words out. Anything. 

But your chest feels tight. You can barely breathe in air, much less to let your voice out. 

“Cliff, please! I told you, I can explain!” Taehyung tries to get your stepfather to listen. You see his hand reaching to grab Cliff’s wrist, though it doesn’t seem that the hold would budge no matter what he does to pull it off. His eyes turn to you, then to Alia, right before he screams out with fear in his eyes, “Alia!” 

“Don’t you dare say her name!” Cliff yells at him, and you force yourself to speak. 

“Sto—” you try once, failing when your chest tightens. “Stop,” you cry out again, “Dad, please—” 

Your voice comes out as nothing more than dried paper, a silent hush compared to the loud voices as Cliff and Taehyung continue to argue with each other at the center of the front yard. But Alia is standing close enough to you to hear it. Close enough to see your hands shaking, your face turning pale and sickly, and she quickly moves right in front of you, standing between you and the quarrelling men. 

“Daddy, stop yelling. You’re going to stress ______ out,” she yells at her Dad while pushing you behind her to keep you away from them, as if she is making sure you won’t get hurt.

She’s…defending me? 

Your head starts spinning harder. Everything is so confusing right now, and it makes you feel worse when you look at Alia, seeing her getting caught in the crossfire as she tries to separate the two while shielding you from the chaos. 

“And it’s not Taehyung’s fault!” she yells again, and this time, it seems to do the trick, because Cliff finally lets Taehyung go. 

Now free from your stepfather’s clutch, Taehyung steps back. He tries to catch his breath while fixing his shirt. You notice then that he is still holding your sonogram, surprising you when even amidst all the chaos, he is still gripping onto it protectively. 

“How is it not his fault?” Cliff snaps at your stepsister. “Why are you defending this asshole? He slept with your sister when he’s dating you, and he even dared to show his face at my—” 

“Because we’re not dating!” Alia cuts him off with a scream, and everything stops. Her scream even shuts the voices in your head, drawing a single question in their place—

What—? What did she just say? 

With all eyes on her, Alia begins to shake with nerves. And then the truth spills out of her mouth. “We, uh—Taehyung and I—we’re friends. I wasn’t planning to come this year but you kept calling me to come for Honey’s family dinner, and—” she says, stuttering as she points at her father, and then turns to face you to add, “I thought that your—I mean, Hansol. I thought he was going to come with you this year like he always did and I didn’t want you to think that—” 

Drawing a shaky breath, she pushes through her nerves and forces the rest of the truth to come out. “I asked Taehyung to come with me and pretend to be my boyfriend so you wouldn’t think that I was going to try to make a move on Hansol again.” 

“Wait—what?” Taehyung snaps at her. He seems confused, and it is evident in your eyes that he never got to hear this part of the ordeal from Alia when he signed up for—whatever it was that they had agreed upon. “What did you do?” 

Alia opens her mouth to continue, yet Cliff cuts her off before she could. “Enough,” he says, no longer yelling. His voice sounds drained, exasperated, and yet there is an eerie calmness underneath that makes your skin shiver with fear. His silent rage terrifies you more than his loud, raging voice does, while the defeated look in his eyes hurts you deeply. “Alia, get inside. And you—” he turns to point at Taehyung. “Get out of my sight.” 

“Dad, no—” you step forward to stop him, yet Cliff doesn’t even look at you when he calmly orders Alia to move. 

“Alia, get your sister back in her room,” he says as he turns away, making his way back into the house.  

Left with no other choice, and feeling like the fight has left you, you let Alia place her hands on your shoulders. “I’m sorry,” you turn to Taehyung one last time as she starts guiding you back to the house, but then your stomach drops when he remains silent. His eyes are cold, as if he is trying to mask his true emotions as he looks at you. Something twists in your gut as if he had pierced a knife deeply through it. “Tae, wait—” 

A small smile is lifted on his lips, though it seems closer to a sneer, something which doesn’t seem to reach the pained look in his eyes, and that is the only thing that he gives you before he turns away and leaves the property without saying a single word. 

Sleep, without a doubt, has become fruitless. 

All night, you have been tossing and turning in your bed. Even when you manage to close your eyes and doze off a little, your stepfather’s grievance and Taehyung’s bereft smile flash through your mind, sending you to an abrupt wake each time. 

At the very last time you find yourself being forcefully pulled away from your restless sleep, you glance out the window, its curtains left partly opened, you see the shadows of nightfall slowly shifting. A blush of hue in gradient colours of purple and grey is beginning to emerge amidst the dark, and you can feel it in your skin the awakening of dawn. 

Too anxious to remain still on your cold bed, adrenaline and stress still flowing violently through your body, you finally give up trying to rest and tiptoe your way downstairs. 

The stillness in the house at night has always been something that you have come so familiar with, but as you walk down the stairs and into the quiet kitchen, the house feels more eerie that it usually does. You can almost hear the creaking sound of the floors and the walls around you, as if they are whispering to you all the things that they have witnessed from the night before. 

The air feels unusually cold. You fight the temptation to light up the fireplace once more and huddle up right in front of it, resisting only to avoid waking everyone else up, and then walk into the kitchen in search for another source of warmth. 

You are just beginning to make yourself a cup of hot chocolate to warm up when a figure steps into the archway leading towards the hallway. You turn with a jump, realising with relief that it is Alia. 

Giving you a hesitant smile, she walks into the kitchen. With her arms wrapped around herself and a thick shawl cloaking her shoulders, you realise that you are not the only one struggling with the cold. 

“Can’t sleep? Or did you wake up too early?” she asks you with a soft whisper. 

“A little bit of both. How about you?” 

She stands by the kitchen counter to watch you work. “Tried to sleep, but I kept having nightmares. I was running downstairs to catch up with Dad, and it kept repeating over and over”—she visibly shudders—“and then I woke up with this crappy headache.” 

You give her a smile and tip your chin at the high stool right by the counter. “Take a seat. I’ll make more,” you offer her, which she accepts with a smile. 

Neither of you says a word for a moment, only breaking the silence once you are done pouring the hot drinks into two separate mugs and handing one to her while whispering, “Here you go,” to which she responds with a soft, sleepy murmur, “Thank you.” 

Taking the seat on one end of the counter with Alia sitting on the other, silence stretches between the two of you once again. There is an awkward tension in the air. You cannot remember when you have ever found yourself alone with Alia like this, deep in the night and with nothing else to do but to talk. Not since those many years ago when you were children. 

You remember how your parents made you share the same bedroom. It was their way of getting you to bond with your new stepsister at the time. Even then, you could tell that Alia wasn’t exactly thrilled by it, already so used to having her own bedroom before she had to split her time between spending the weekdays with her mother and then with her father on the weekends. 

But at least back then, the silence didn’t feel as stifling. And she had let you borrow her personal things to play with, as long as you got out of her way. And that included her books—so many of them, you remember—with her occasionally sitting right beside you so she could read you some of the hard ones to follow for a little child.  

Taking a sip of your hot cocoa, you decide that you have had enough of this silence. “So—” you breathe out a sigh. “You and Taehyung.” 

Alia groans and closes her eyes. “You heard me last night, didn’t you? I know I was drunk off my ass, but it’s true,” she says, scoffing as she glances sideways and meets your gaze when you do the same, “It’s stupid, I know.” 

You sip your drink before asking, “Why did you have to go make an entire scheme out of this?” 

“I don’t know,” she breathes out an exhausted sigh. “It sounded like a good idea at the time.” Her voice sounds wistful when she says this, and then she breaks out into a bitter chuckle. “But I guess, just like a ton of other bad decisions I’ve made my entire life, it only added to the long list of fuck-ups that have tainted most of my adult life.” 

You let out a snort, something that is so uncharacteristically you, but still comes out with all honesty. “At least you’re taking accountability of it,” you say to her almost teasingly, “I know some people who wouldn’t even admit that they fucked up and simply move on while everyone had to pick up the mess they left behind.”  

Alia laughs. You can see her eyes warming up. “When did you meet him? How did it all happen?” 

Your lips curl up to a smile. You drink your hot drink slowly before you begin telling her everything—the trip that you went to after your breakup, the frustrating debacle with your flight getting delayed and cancelled and meeting him at transit, the hookup, everything that you already shared with Skye the first time you revealed about your first promiscuous night abroad with the stranger, the agreement you both made about shedding your identities, which had lead to this whole mess, and more.

Surprisingly enough, Alia merely responds with a soft chuckle. As if this is something that is to be expected when it involves her friend. “That explains it,” she muses softly. She has this faraway look in her eyes for a moment, as if recalling something in the past—perhaps something that happened during that period of time. 

“He was going through some stuff when we got in contact again about a year after the last time we met. We lost contact again briefly during that time”—the time he went to take that trip, you tell yourself—”I think he said he was off to some sort of a business trip and was using it to ‘escape’ from everything. He never told me any of the details, though.” 

You are curious, wanting to know more. But you also know that it isn’t your place to pry. You can also tell that Alia may not answer if you try to ask her. Yet she then surprises you by adding, “Then he contacted me not too long ago and said something about needing my help. I thought it was a wild coincidence and decided to use the chance to get him to help me in return. One thing lead to another, and here we are now.” 

You both share a laugh, despite how pitiful the two of you seem at this moment.  

When you both grow quiet once more, each of you taking the moment to savour your drink and the silence that is starting to bring more comfort than the uneasiness you felt earlier, your mind wanders. You recall the events that have been happening for the past few days, to tonight, seeing everything with a new light now that the truth has come out. You also find that you no longer feel the weight of your secret shadowing you, allowing you to breathe easier. 

And then the conversation you had with Skye on the phone from a while ago comes back to you. 

“I’m sorry I broke your doll,” you suddenly blurt out, while Alia snaps her head to look over to you. 

“What? Which doll?” she asks, her face is filled with incomprehension, before her expression shifts into knowing, and then to shock. “Oh, that one? That was a long time ago!” 

You laugh at her reaction. “Yeah, but it feels like you started resenting me since then.” 

“No, I’m—” she shakes her head and scoffs at you. “It’s actually fine. I hated that doll. That was the ugliest piece of shit I’ve ever owned when I was a kid.” 

“What—?”  you let out an incredulous laugh. “But you made it look like I’ve ruined your entire world. All hell broke loose because of it so I thought—” 

Alia laughs, though she also looks somewhat guilty when she explains everything to you. “One of Dad’s ex-girlfriends bought it for me on my eighth birthday. I never liked any of the women he brought home and introduced me, but she was probably the sanest and most normal one of all,” she calmly tells you, quickly adding, “That was before your Mom came in, by the way.” 

That makes you smile. Especially when you notice that her eyes are filled with fondness as she talks about your mother. 

“Anyway, she gave me the doll as a gift after she went for a trip abroad, and maybe I did like it because it made me happy to know that she thought about me. But the older I got, the weirder it felt for me to keep it, but every time I wanted to get rid of the doll, it made me feel guilty for even considering it because of how sweet she was to me,” she winces as she recalls the past. “When you ruined the doll, I was actually relieved. But I couldn’t show it to Dad since he thought I loved the doll so much that he even went out on his way to help take care of the doll for a long time, so I made it seem like losing the doll made me sad.” 

Your jaw drops and you laugh again. “Damn, I can’t believe I was gaslighted and framed by a twelve year-old.” 

“Sucks to be you,” Alia laughs back at you as she sips her drink. “Sorry for causing you some childhood trauma or whatever.” 

“It wasn’t so much of a trauma,” you say to her while scoffing. But that incident did leave an impression on you, regardless. And it wasn’t a good one. Looking back on it now, it does seem ridiculous for you to let it haunt your memories for so long. 

You are just about to share your thoughts to Alia when she finally speaks again. 

“On your eleventh birthday, you started calling him Dad,” she says, her voice dull, but you can feel the weight of her words when you hear them. It takes a moment for it to sink in, until you finally realise— 

“Oh—” Oh. You swallow hard and take a deep breath, realising that she is talking about Cliff. “Did you, uh—were you worried that I might take him away from you?” 

Alia smiles bitterly. “I’m not sure. Maybe?” She shrugs. “As a kid, I may have harboured an unrealistic fantasy that one day, my Mom and Dad would make up, get back together, and everything would be back to how it used to be.” 

She looks at you with a small smile. “But then Daddy met your Mom, and my Mom became more unhinged after the divorce and dealing with the consequences of her affair that it was becoming more obvious Dad would have never taken her back, no matter what.” 

The more she speaks, sharing her deep, darkest secret, the more you are able to understand her. For all these years, you simply thought that Alia has resented you for childish reasons. You never knew that she had nurtured the heartbreak of an innocent child for so many years. Silently hurting without anyone else knowing. 

“But it was the day you began calling him Dad that finally broke me out of that fantasy and forced me to accept that they were never going back together,” she says, sighing deeply with a broken smile on her face, which only deepens the guilt that you feel for becoming a part of it. “Maybe—that was the moment I started seeing you differently.” 

“I—didn’t know,” you murmur, and then you begin to recall how Alia kept avoiding to spend time with her father on the weekends when she was a teenager. “You started to come by less and less by then.” 

Your parents had excused Alia’s absence at the time as her newfound need of being independent. But you know better now. 

Alia releases a sigh, as if opening to you is helping her relief some of her own weight. “Dad was so happy because you and your family welcomed him into your lives. I guess that was really important to him. The more I watched him having a new family that was a whole, the more I resented it. Seeing you with Daddy—” she stops with a sharp intake of breath, “I guess the child in me felt like I was being replaced and I couldn’t take it.” 

“Alia—” 

She cuts you off with one look, with a gaze that is surprisingly warm. “You know what’s worse?” she asks. 

“The way Dad keeps bragging about you in front of me and anyone from his side of the family whenever he has the chance to. You have always been smarter, you’ve gained everything you wanted in life with your own effort. You have a good job, a nice apartment and, for a time, you had a long-time boyfriend, while I’m still floating through life,” she says with a wistful tone of voice instead of a bitter one. “I have no steady job, and I’m still moving around instead of settling down, which left me with no chance to start any serious relationship to brag about in front of everyone. So I suppose that makes me feel inferior when I have to face you.” 

You have no idea what to say. Because you had no idea about any of this. Still, you feel guilty, even if none of this was your fault when all you ever did was live your life the way you wanted it to. 

“Last year, I think that’s when I came to my limit,” Alia adds with a chuckle. “I guess somewhere in my mind, I had this thought that since you already stole my Dad, maybe I could steal something that was yours for a change.” 

Once again, your jaw drops. You let out a gasp. “Hey, that’s fucked up!” 

She laughs at your reaction. “I know! And I’m sorry, alright?” she says, still laughing and lifting both of her hands at you. But she quickly sobers up, looking genuinely concerned when she asks, “Seriously, though. Did you break up—” 

You quickly shake your head. “No. He chose his career over our relationship,” you admit to her. “He has always been like that. He’s always so crazy about work, a perfectionist, and not only does he have a big ego, he also has big ambitions. I think he pushed me to match his pace, whether he realised it or not, which became the reason why I managed to gained everything I have now.” 

Looking back, you have to admit that your ex was the one who gave you the drive which helped you get where you are now. As much as you hate to admit it, you do owe him that much for your current life, despite everything. 

“In a way, he pushed and motivated me to constantly be a better version of myself. But, deep down, I was starting to get tired of it.” You recall all the fights, the arguments, the agony that you felt when he belittled you for your need to start going in your own pace instead of following his. “I never realised how exhausting it was with him until we broke up. He made me feel like I was on a race against him instead of in a relationship where we were both equals in life.” 

Alia slowly nods her head with a silent understanding. “What happened last year with your ex was also the reason why I asked Taehyung to come with me,” she confesses with a shy smile.

“I felt so bad for everything that happened, and I had no idea how to fix it. I thought that if I brought someone with me this year, not only would I be able to shut my Mom up about trying to hook me up with some snobby guy from her circle and pushing me into marriage”—she rolls her eyes—”I would also be able to show everyone here, and you, that I had no desire to steal your boyfriend from you.” 

You grin at her. “That explains why it was shocking for you to find out that I already broke up.” 

“Obviously,” she scoffs. “That thwarted all of my plans.” You laugh together while she continues to complain about it. How she had meticulously planned everything to clear her reputation and avoid adding more drama between you.  

“But I couldn’t give up the gig. I know that Dad still keeps in touch with my Mom once in a while because of me, and she would call him to check on me if she’d heard I was coming, so if I let everyone know that Taehyung and I aren’t actually dating, my Mom would sit me down next to any bachelor of the year that she had chosen for me at the family gathering with just a snap of her fingers,” she sneers, lifting her hand to snap her fingers in the same manner that you imagine her mother would do. 

“And, as always, I had to mess everything up too because of my stupid plans,” she heavily sighs. “Sorry, by the way.” 

Scoffing lightly, you simply wave her off. “It’s not your fault. If only Taehyung and I had talked when we had the chance,” you finally admit, realising that you are also to blame for avoiding to speak to him right away, “Or if he had told you about me when I asked him to, then maybe the three of us could have figured something out.” 

Alia nods her head in agreement, and then her lips rise to a slow smile. “I didn’t expect that Honey would be the one stirring the pot when it was already boiling.” 

That makes you laugh again. “Honestly? I had expected that Honey would be the first to notice. I just didn’t expect her to blast me right in front of the whole family.” 

Sipping her hot cocoa slowly, Alia hums. “Maybe it was meant to work that way. Or else, I feel like neither of us would find any chance to spill out the truth, as bitter and ridiculous it might sound to admit,” she says, and you cannot help but agree with her. Even with no resolution have yet to be made, you can feel some of the weight of your troubles being lifted from you. 

Everything may have gone messy, yet for some reason, the future doesn’t seem so bleak when you are looking at it one last time. Then Alia gently adds, further encouraging the hope that is slowly blooming inside you. 

“Taehyung—he won’t be joining me to see my Mom. He’s driving back home, either in the morning or before noon, I’m not sure. You should go see him and talk.” 

“I—” you swallow hard. “I want to. We do need to talk, but—” 

Alia stops you by shaking her head. “No buts. You have a baby on the way, and I’m sure—seeing his reaction last night—he would want to be a part of it. Only if you’d let him.” 

That immediately shuts you up, taking away all the excuses that you have to run away and avoid facing him. You still remember seeing the way he was clutching your sonogram possessively as if it was his lifeline, and you have yet to get the sonogram back from him when he left. 

“Even without the baby—” Alia continues, noticing how you are still deep in your thoughts. “The favour that I mentioned? I think it might have something to do with you. I’m not sure what it was though, because he hasn’t had the chance to say anything about it. He only said that it had something to do with what happened during his trip from that time.” 

You know that she is right. The only problem is mustering the courage to go and see him in person. After what your family had put him through last night, you have no idea how to face him, feeling too guilty that he got roped into so much mess because you couldn’t tell him the truth when you had the chance.

“Well, while you take your time considering it, I should go back to my room. I have another Christmas event that I would need to mentally prepare to,” Alia says as she steps out of her seat. You watch her walking around the counter to put away her empty mug before smiling at you. “Thanks for the nice chat, and the hot chocolate.”

You return her smile and nod. “So—are we good?” 

That makes her chuckle. She stops before going out into the hall and shrugs. “Yeah, you’re okay. I guess we are.” 

“Does that mean we’re friends now?” you tease her, drawing a scoff from her. 

“Ugh—don’t push your luck, kid. Don’t even think about us being sisters,” she says, pointing at you. 

“Never would’ve dreamed of it,” you respond with a chuckle. Still, you are overcome with relief now that the old tension between you are lifted. “Good luck with your Mom.” 

“Thanks. Good luck with—” she says, “well, everything.” She turns away, but not before giving you one final warning, “I’m serious. Go talk to him. Don’t worry about the others, or about how Daddy would react. I’ll hold down the fort and explain everything to them until you’re back.” 

Your grip on the steering wheel tightens just as your stomach tightens with churning doubt. 

The thought of seeing Taehyung, alone, seems nerve-racking. You have no idea what to expect once you get there, or what you are going to say, which only makes you even more nervous the further you are getting from home. 

Your thoughts are filled with worrying that things may not go as planned. Not that you really had any plan to go with other than to talk to him, stop him from leaving, and maybe find out what the future hold—if there is any hope there. 

The weather outside seems dreary, which is no help at all. Even under the winter sunlight that appears brighter than usual, the snow keeps falling thickly from the sky, the trees standing on either side of the streets are swaying dangerously towards various directions due to the intense wind. 

Weather does hate me, you wonder to yourself as you glance through the side mirror, wondering why these things keep happening to you during critical times such as this one.

Getting more impatient, the urge to press down on the accelerator feels so strong, yet you fight it the best you can, recalling the promise you made when you stepped out of the house. 

Honey was right, it was a bad idea to be driving out under this weather. She was the one who warned you about the weather when you were about to leave, which you simply ignored because the sky was bright, the wind was steady, and your intention to see Taehyung was strong. 

You should have learned from experience and took your time checking today’s weather forecast to find out just how quickly the weather could change. 

Looking at the fierce weather, it seems obvious that things are about to get even worse. A white jeep breezes past your tiny city car, causing your car to sway, and you feel a pull to match its speed. But then you see it nearly slipping on the road as the jeep makes a turn right ahead, and you heart stops. Your car slows as you start hearing Honey’s voice warning you about how easy the road becomes slippery on days like this. 

“Drive carefully. Even if you want to risk your life getting out there, at least think about that baby,” Honey’s voice echoes in your head, stopping you before you could even think of picking up speed again once the road clears up before you. 

“There’s nothing to worry about. With this weather, he couldn’t have left yet,” you convince yourself, though your doubt keeps pushing back nearly tenfold. 

He couldn’t just leave, right? 

Turning with reduced speed on the next intersection, you curse under your breath. It feels like it’s taking you forever to reach the motel, and when you still see no sign of getting any closer to the motel, you begin to wonder if you’ll manage to get there at all. 

“Damn it, Alia. Why did you have to choose that motel? There’s a bunch of them closer to home.” 

Obviously, there is nobody here to answer your question. So the only thing that you can do is to force yourself to calm down, focus on the road—and in not slipping or sending your car into a ditch—and find the motel as fast—and as safely—as you can. 

Quiet Peaks Motel. Room 1109. 

You almost laughed when Alia gave you the room number where Taehyung has been staying in. The irony of having those numbers shown to your face, reminding you of that night from six weeks ago. 

“I suppose this is what people call a Christmas miracle.” 

You let out a scoff as Skye’s words ring back to you. Christmas miracle my butt, you inwardly scoff at the notion. A queer coincidence, that’s what this is. 

Not too long, you are driving your car into the small parking lot of Quiet Peaks Motel. With your head covered under the hood of your coat, you challenge the cold to rush into the motel without taking a look around to see if his car is still here. Past the receptionist desk, you follow Alia’s guide to find Taehyung’s room. 

Room 1109. 

Shaking off the snow that has gotten all over your body, you take a deep breath, and knock on the door. A few seconds pass. 

No answer. 

Another knock, just a bit harder this time. And all you have in return is silence. No. No. No—

You raise your hand again, ready to give it another try while refusing to accept the possibility that he is no longer there, when finally—finally—you hear a click, and the door slowly opens. Taehyung appears before you, with wide, curious eyes and a smile slowly lifting on his lips, like a piece of a fantasy manifesting into something real. 

“You’re still here,” you breathe a sigh of relief, drawing a low chuckle from him. 

Taehyung crosses his arms over his chest as he hovers by the doorway, the small smile on his face unwavering. “Alia called. Warned me not to run away,” he gently says.

The thought of him driving off to leave town, running away before you could see him, feels like a bolt piercing through your heart. “Were you—trying to run?” 

“I felt the urge to,” he admit while lowering his gaze, briefly avoiding your eyes. “But I couldn’t.” 

You can hear the sound of your heartbeat. “Because of the blizzard happening outside?” 

Taehyung looks up, and his smile deepens when he steps aside. “Why don’t you come in? It’s getting colder. You can warm up inside.” There is a playful glint in his eyes which says the unspoken words—

With me. 

Drawn by the look in his eyes, your legs begin to move on their own. Your arm brushes against him as you walk past him, just barely, and your skin prickles warmly, as if the thick winter coat that you are wearing is nonexistent.  

Taehyung takes your coat, shaking the remaining snow that is still attached to it before hanging it on the coat rack by the door while you step out of your snow-coated boots, refusing to leave trails of snow and dirt on his floor as he pulls you inside. He guides you to take a seat on the edge of the bed while he takes the one-seater from the corner of the room and places it across from you. 

Sitting back, he wears a playful smile on his face. He seems giddy, with a twinge of wariness that is quite noticeable coming out of him—both feelings are something that you also share as you sit with your back straightened while your legs are shaking.

Sitting here like this allows you to get a good look at Taehyung. And for the first time, you notice the boyish charm in him that looks—adorable. You can see it better when he smiles, when he looks at you with an expectant look in his yes, and when he doesn’t seem to be able to remain calm. 

You have no idea why you had never seen this side of him before. Has he been hiding this part of him? Because, if you want to be honest with yourself, you like seeing this side of Taehyung, maybe even more than the side that he has allowed you to see before today. 

If comfort is a person, this side of him fits the picture, you wonder to yourself with a smile. 

Speaking of pictures—

Your eyes travel around the room, taking notice of the place where he has been staying at. The room is undoubtedly smaller than the suite that he booked back at the transit hotel, but not any smaller than your own bedroom back home. The bed that you are sitting on feels soft, with wooden bed frames that makes it seem sturdy. There is a single vanity table that stretches out on one wall, also functioning as a writing desk, an electric fireplace in the corner that is running with a soft hum, and a wall-mounted television that has been kept on with its volume lowered to fill the room with its white noise. 

Your eyes fall on the long table, on the small object that catches your attention.

“Would you like to drink?” Taehyung asks you as the silence stretches out for too long, and you look at him with a smile. 

“Sure, I’d love to.” 

Nodding, he rises from his seat to grab a drink from the corner cabinet, while you do the same. Drawn towards the small object that Taehyung had placed on the table like a precious jewel—your sonogram. 

“I didn’t mean to keep it with me. But throughout all the chaos happening last night—” you can hear his voice getting closer and closer, yet you do nothing to look his way. Holding up the sonogram between your fingers, your eyes are focused completely on it, fixated at the clear proof of your future. You still have your eyes on it as his warmth comes pressing on your back, his voice feels like a gentle brush on your skin as he whispers close—

“—I just couldn’t let it go. It felt surreal whenever I looked at it. It was almost as if—I was actually holding that baby in my hands, and I needed to protect it.” 

His words send your mind into a daze, even when you notice the tremble in his voice. Everything he does next seems like parts of a dream. You notice his hand reaching out beside you, placing two objects which seem to be bottles of fresh juice on top of the table. And his hand stays there, palm pressing on the edge of the desk while his other hand is resting on your other side, practically caging you in place. 

Slowly, you turn around to face him. The sudden closeness makes you feel dizzy, yet the feeling is incomparable to the way your body is reacting when you look into his eyes. 

His dark eyes somehow appear even darker from up close. You feel nothing carnal in the way he is looking at you, nor the way he is giving you no chance to escape. But there is the heat that you feel reaching out to you, vibrating through his chest together with his heavy breath. 

“We are—” he murmurs, stopping briefly with a deep exhale of breath. “We’re expecting a baby.” He speaks as if he is trying to rewire his brain into accepting reality.

Your heart starts racing when you hear his words. 

We. That word seals everything in. 

And you can feel that sense of acceptance coming from him. You can easily see it written all over his face; in his gaze that looks resolved and in his warm smile that seems inviting. And then you get to see it coming together when he takes you in, his eyes landing on your belly. Even though covered under your thick sweater, he looks at you as if he can see what is hidden underneath. 

“We’re expecting a baby,” you whisper with a smile. “It’s still early. Very early. Which is why you might not see any changes, like seeing the baby in its fully grown form, or find out the gender yet, but we can already hear the heartbeat. We can arrange so you can join me on my next appointment with the doctor. That is, if you’d like.”

Putting all of your hopes into words feels risky. But thinking about him being there puts a smile on your face. That smile fades for a brief moment when you realise that you are also putting your heart at risk of being broken—be it from him, or from life. 

“Anything could still happen,” you add with a wry smile. The sceptical part of you slowly sneaking its way into your mind to take control. “But if you’re willing to go through this with me and—” 

He doesn’t let you finish your sentence when he suddenly reaches out to touch you. He brushes your cheek with the gentle touch of his fingers, and wraps his other arm around your waist, pulling you gently to him until you are nearly pressed into his chest. You bring your palms up to his chest in reflex, pressing against him as a barrier, separating you from his overwhelming warmth. 

You can feel his heartbeat picking up under your palms, just as your own heartbeat starts thundering inside your chest. 

“Last night, Cliff stole my chance to figure out or express how I felt about this,” he says with a nervous chuckle. “I was in so much shock both from the news and then Cliff’s reaction that I couldn’t say a word about it. But the moment I left your home and spent the night alone in this room, I finally got the chance to process everything.”

He stops, shaking his head before pressing his lips on your temple. “Still, I can’t believe that this is happening. But this is our new reality right now and I have to face it. No matter at what cost,” he whispers with his lips hovering against your temple.

“What—what are you saying?” 

“I’m saying that I’m all in,” he says, pulling back so he can look at you. “I told you, didn’t I? You never really left my mind after that night. I’m not sure why, but waking up in the morning to see you gone back then got me curious and, well—” he chuckles. “It was all the reason why I got roped into Alia’s sneaky scheme, which I’m beginning to regret ever being a part of, but since we’re here anyway.” 

Taehyung lets out a dramatic sigh, drawing a curious smile to your face. 

His chest rises and falls as he exhales a deep breath. “Alia promised to help me once we’ve done the deal. And although I never told her specifically what I needed help with—” he grins, looking as if he is thinking back to the day he planned out this whole scheme with your stepsister. 

A scheme where he pretended to be dating her to trick your and Alia’s family. 

“Actually, I was already trying to find you. Alia has a lot of connections, gathered by traveling to different places and jumping between odd jobs, so I thought that maybe she would know how to solve that problem of mine,” he admits, and your skin flushes warmly when you realise that not only has he been thinking of you this whole time, but he had also thought of looking for you when you thought that he would have simply forgotten everything and moved on. 

“Things may have gone differently than I imagined, and not entirely in the right order. But technically speaking, she made it happen, just as promised,” he chuckles again, looking just amused at the situation as you are. “If I had known about the baby, I wouldn’t have asked you to hide from Alia that we got together at one point,” he grimaces. “I wasn’t sure what kind of situation Alia was in that would require her having a fake boyfriend, so I don’t know what telling her that we hooked up would do.” 

Frowning, you simply shake your head and murmur, “No, I should’ve told you right away. But like I said, I wasn’t prepared to see my baby’s daddy coming into my parents’ home holding hands with my stepsister.” 

Taehyung smiles and rubs his thumb across your cheek. “I’m sorry.” 

Your body shudders under his touch, but you cover it with a sigh. “Likewise,” you whisper. “But can we please stop talking about Alia right now?” 

He barks out a laugh. “Okay, if that’s what you want,” he says with a wide grin on his face. “Maybe you’ll be more interested in talking about something else, then?” 

You suck a deep breath as his eyes bore into yours. Even before he says it, you can somehow tell what he is thinking. There is something in his eyes that makes you feel hot inside. Something that feels intimidating, yet comforting at the same time, and it makes you want to dive into whatever it is that is offering you. 

As if he can read your mind, Taehyung starts staring at you the same way he did that night—with the same passion and hunger that are enough to engulf you as a whole. 

While you are captivated with his gaze, Taehyung leans in, stealing a kiss from your lips before you realise what is happening. He begins with a gentle, tentative kiss, as if he is testing to see how you are going to react. But with your emotion heightened, and relief warming your chest, the innocent kiss that he is giving you is already enough to send heat flushing through your body.

Your fingers sink into his sweater in a desperate clutch as you return his kiss, pressing your mouth onto his without any inhibitions. A sigh escapes from your throat, while he releases a deep grunt and begins to deepen the kiss. 

His tongue presses between the seams of your lips, penetrating into your mouth in seek of control. All the heat inside you starts swirling violently as he devours your lips, and it’s driving you crazy. Your thundering heartbeat presses against your chest and he keeps stealing your breath, leaving you gasping the moment he releases your lips. 

Yet Taehyung doesn’t stop. Giving you a few more pecks on your swollen lips, he then moves his kisses down the column of your throat, and your head falls back in an instant, helping him to travel lower until he rests his lips beneath your earlobe where he breathes out a sigh.  

“This wasn’t—” you gasp as he nips at your pulse, rocking your entire body at the touch of his teeth on your skin, “This wasn’t the reason why I came here for.” 

“Are you sure?” he hums against your skin. “We can stop if you want to. But you have to be the one to say the words.” His words make you swoon, but contrary to what he is saying to you, Taehyung continues to press his lips on your skin, making it hard for you to say a thing. “It’s been pure torture having to hold back, being in the same room with you but unable to do anything about it.” 

He leans back, looking at you with a deep gaze as he brushes his thumb across your swollen lips. “I kept seeing these lips and wishing I could kiss it.” 

Silently admitting that you feel the same way for him, your eyes move to his lips, noticing its swell, the faint crimson shade and the moisture that are left there after kissing you, and hazily blurt out, “Did you kiss Alia with that same mouth?”

“Fuck, no!” he says, making you laugh when he seems horrified at the thought of kissing your stepsister. “We’re friends, but not that close as friends to be smooching at each other.” 

The way he is scrunching his nose still makes you giggle. “Sorry, but—you know, I had to make sure.”

Taehyung snorts. “Of course you do,” he grumbles, although the mirth in his eyes turns, as he gives you an understanding look through them, now knowing what kind of relationship that you share with Alia. “There are a lot of things about your stepsister that you might not know about.” 

His words remind you of the short conversation that you had with your stepsister this morning. Deep down, you realise that he is right. With so many years spent harbouring a deep misunderstanding between one another, you realise that you never really knew her at all. Closing your eyes, you tell yourself that you can revisit this later. 

“Are you going to spend the rest of the day trying to butter me up so I can start being best friends with my stepsister, or are you going to kiss me again?” you question him with a grin on your face once you open your eyes again. 

He returns your grin with his own, showing you that same boyish charm that makes you swoon as he murmurs, “I think I like the second option a lot better.” 

Giggling, you release your grip on his sweater and move to wrap your arms around his neck, meeting him halfway just as he leans down to capture your lips again. “An excellent choice, Sir. I do like that option much better as well.”

Once his lips descend on yours once again, they don’t come down gently. They crash into yours, and you can feel his urgency, his hunger, everything that he had spent days withholding for the sake of the god-awful scheme. The kiss melts every cell in your body. It weakens your knees, leaving your arms as the only thing holding you up against him. 

His hands feel hot on your skin as he runs them down your waist, your hips, the heat penetrating through your thick sweater and jeans. You instinctively arch your chest against his, while your legs are moving, rubbing against each other when his touch sends your pulse rising, hot blood flowing down right between your legs. 

Fuck, why I am so sensitive? 

Right as you are wondering if your pregnancy has anything to do with the way your body is reacting, Taehyung folds his body and grabs the back of your thighs to lift you up. 

“Oh, God—” you pull away with a gasp, surprised with the sudden lost of balance. Tightening your arms around his neck, you hold on to him as he turns. His smile widens, looking as if he is proud of himself, and then he drops you onto the bed, gentle as he puts you down until you are lying on your back. 

You shift backwards until you are at the center of the bed with him following close behind. His gaze remains on your face as he starts crawling over the mattress, not stopping until he is hovering above you. He doesn’t settle his weight on top of you right away, but instead grabs a gentle hold at the hem of your sweater. With a quick work of his hands, the sweater is gone, tossed somewhere across the room. He doesn’t let you see where it went as he bends down, hovering close above you.  

“Doesn’t this make you think back about that night?” he asks, with a deep voice that has your entire body trembling. He ignites more reaction out of you with a gentle kiss at the crook of your neck. 

“Something is”—you gasp, shuddering under his kiss—“something is different, though.” 

His warm breath comes brushing on your skin with his deep chuckle. “You can tell, huh? I did some workout after that vacation,” he brags to you while wiggling his eyebrows, making you laugh. 

“I’d say you may have gotten your money’s worth. A little bit,” you tease him as you reach down between your bodies for his zipper. 

You can feel his hard cock pressing against your palm. Even while hidden under his pants, you can feel the heat coming from him as you rub your palm against his covered bulge, moving it back and forth until you feel him hardening under your touch. 

“Are you going to continue staring at me, or are you going to fuck me?” you whisper, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with how much you need him. 

And he is the only one to blame. When his sole existence stirs your every being. With one glance coming from his eyes, butterfly wings flutter inside your body, touching all the crevices that aren’t filled with past hurt and the baby’s presence and filling them with warmth. 

With one touch, your whole body comes alight, and you are feeling it now as he brushes his fingers along the expanse of your waist. As tough your blood is on fire as it runs through your veins, even with nothing more but a light graze on your skin. 

Taehyung licks his lips. His desire is written so clearly on his face. But then his gaze moves down your body, lingering on your stomach that is completely exposed now that you no longer have your sweater covering your skin. 

“Will it be okay?” he asks, sounding genuinely concerned. His voice sounds tight, filled with worries, which gives your chest a tight pinch. 

When was the last time you had someone—other than your family—to be so concerned about your wellbeing? Granted, there is a baby that is involved in all of this, and it would be normal for him to care, but that doesn’t stop you from feeling like he is seeing right through you. 

“I think I read somewhere that the baby will be okay,” you look down at your stomach and start rubbing your hand gently over it. “Maybe we can go gentle. At least until we get to see the OB and ask more.” 

“Good idea,” he says with a smile, while you feel soft inside. But when his hand begins to move again, his thumb grazing down your exposed stomach, the heat rises back up and he is back in the game. 

His smouldering gaze feels like a complete opposite to the softness in his voice when he says, “Alright, I can do gentle. Just tell me if it gets too much, or you can lead the pace so I won’t make any mistake.” 

He wears the same wicked smile that stole your heart many nights ago as he lifts off from your body. You watch with your teeth nibbling at your bottom lip as he begins stripping himself. His sweater comes off, showing you his hard chest and filled arms which you haven’t had the chance to appreciate in the past. 

This time, you get to see everything with a clear mind. Instead of feeling hazy with intoxication, all you can feel now is the haze coming from your need for him.  

Reaching down to his pants, he pushes down his zipper. With a mocking grin, he makes a great gesture of pushing down his pants, only to stop once he hears your moan. 

“God, I missed hearing that sound coming out of your lips,“ he murmurs. He immediately returns to you and pushes your pants and panties down in one motion. Your bra comes off right before your butt comes back down on the bed. Having not an inch of your skin covered while you are lying there makes you feel exposed and vulnerable. Yet he keeps a gentle hold on your waist, holding you still while he takes you in. 

“I remember thinking that you were beautiful, but it beats seeing you in this kind of light to see what I didn’t get to see,” he murmurs, almost groaning as he takes you in. 

Licking your lips, you hold back, keeping your voice from trembling to answer, “We were both kinda drunk, so—” 

“Were we?” he chuckles softly and returns to you again, as if he can’t take being apart from you for too long. He presses his lips on your collarbone and whispers, “Good thing we get the chance to change that.” 

Your legs come up and wrap around his waist the moment he is back on top of you. The way his hard chest is pressing on your bare breasts feels heavenly. You can feel his heartbeat pounding against your chest, almost at the same rhythm as yours. But your attention is quickly drawn away once you try to move your hips to get comfortable beneath his weight, only to unintentionally rub yourself against his body.

You can feel his hard cock pressing against your thigh as you brush against him. Heat pools right at the depth of your core once you feel just how badly he wants you. It grows more intense as he pushes back into you, rubbing his covered cock against your center until you feel your wet arousal soiling the front of his pants. 

Yet still, the friction isn’t enough to satiate your needs. 

“Taehyung—” 

The moment he hears you calling his name—his real name—something dark and feral flashes through his gaze. As if saying his name in the heat of desire snaps something inside him that needs to be unleashed. 

His mouth comes down to capture yours just then, claiming you with a deep kiss. You writhe beneath him while he devours your lips, pressing against his center in a silent plea to have him striping himself off of the restricting pants and letting you feel him. 

Without saying a word, he understands what you are asking for and complies. With a reluctant sigh, he pulls back. He keeps his eyes on you the whole time as he pushes down his pants and boxer briefs until he is completely bare. His hard cock immediately springs free right before your eyes, drawing your attention towards it the same way it did the first night you were with him. 

“Say it again,” he says to you with a deep voice. A rough sigh escapes him as he wraps his hand around his girth and starts stroking himself, making himself hard and ready while he pleads with you, “Say my name.” 

“Taehyung,” you call him with a soft moan, and he lets go every last bit of his restrictions and covers your whole body with his. 

His mouth crashes down on yours, kissing you passionately until your body grows hot. A moan slips from you, and his tongue sweeps in between your parted lips, getting entangled with yours and you are immediately lost. You barely notice it when his hand moves down, slipping between your bodies to find the source of your heat. 

He flicks at your nether lips, drawing a gasp from your lips, and your hips rise up to welcome him. Then he slides a finger into your pulsing core, entering you until you are arching against his chest, overwhelmed with the sensation that he draws out of your body as he buries his finger deeper into your pussy. 

While he slides his finger in and out of you, his mouth remains pressed on yours, swallowing every sound you are making. Drowning every cries, every moans, while he continues devouring you as though you are his lifeline. 

The pleasure rises, and your body starts moving on its own before you can control it. You start grinding against his finger, needing more. It starts with a slow rock, but the more the pleasure climbs within your body, you continue grinding harder and harder onto his hand. This seems to amuse him, as you can feel his smile growing against his lips before he pulls away, freeing you from his searing kiss. 

Yet his hand continues to move, not resting until you can finally find release. “That’s it, ______. Give it to me, baby. Come for me,” he whispers with his deep voice like a spell. 

Under his encouraging words and his relentless strokes, you finally reach your orgasm. It feels so intense you can almost feel as if your body shatters in his hold, with your breath coming out in broken pants and your moans rising higher. 

With a gentle move, he pulls his finger out of you, leaving behind a series of small spasms inside your pussy from the climax. 

You immediately feel empty. But he doesn’t make you wait long as he positions himself between your parted legs, and his heavy hard-on comes right where his finger had been. His cock slides in between your slit, moving back and forth as he rocks his hips. The friction draws the slick sound of your release as he continues rubbing the entire length of his cock against your hot cunt. 

As your body continues to shudder beneath him, Taehyung lets out a deep groan. “Can’t wait, baby. Need to be inside you now.” 

“Yes, fuck me, Taehyung,” you cry out, and those exact words are the ones that draw him to move. 

You should have been prepared for it, yet your mind and body are somewhat occupied. Distracted by the blinding pleasure that he keeps pulling out of you, you are not ready when he slams his cock into you. You instantly cry out, and Taehyung stills inside you. 

You can feel your muscles clenching, pulsing around him in small spasms of pleasure at the sudden invasion. It draws a moan out of him, and he holds you in his arms to help soothe you through it until you are more accustomed to his width filling you up. 

“You okay, baby? I’m sorry,” he whispers with his lips pressing gently on your skin. Starting from your neck, your chin, and then he keeps making his way up to capture your parted lips. His kiss is soft, barely a flutter, but with every pulse rising in your body, you can feel the heat shooting right into your core. 

You wait just long enough until the pounding sound of your heartbeat eases before answering him, “I’m okay.” 

You start to wiggle under his weight, moving your hips to test if it’s going to hurt. When you feel that your muscles are no longer tense, and nothing but pleasure rushes through your body, you start moving your hips more. Grinding down his length, you can feel your hot walls contracting around his thick cock. It draws a sharp hiss out of his lips, and he jerks his hips against you, as though he is close to losing control. 

“Are you going to stay there the entire time we’re here”—you tease him while tightening your legs around his waist, your hands on his hard shoulders—”or are you going to fuck me?”  

Taehyung lets out a deep chuckle and begins to move. “So impatient. It’s been a while, so I’m only letting you act like a brat just this once,” he growls against your lips as he rocks his hips, moving in a slow pace. 

It feels so good. But you want more. You need more. 

With your heels pressing on his back, you rock back against him, grinding into his cock. He reacts with a groan, murmuring to you, “Fuck, that feels good. You want more?” 

The pleasure continues climbing. It starts to feel overwhelming that words fail you. The only thing you can give him is a nod. A sharp gasp comes out of your lips when he starts picking up his pace, going faster while pushing deeper with each thrust. 

“Tell me if it hurts,” he nearly begs, sounding desperate when you have yet to give him words in response to him. “Please, baby. Promise me. I’m barely holding on here, but I don’t want to hurt you or the baby.” 

His voice goes in and out of your senses, yet you still manage to hear what he is trying to say. “I’m fine, Taehyung. I won’t hide it, I promise.” 

He lets out a relieved sigh and smashes his lips on yours. “Good,” he groans against your lips. “Hang on tight then, baby.” 

Those words become the last warning as the force and speed of his thrusts escalate, hitting you deep and hard until your toes are curling and your throat feels tight with the urge to cry out in pleasure. Your chest rises in an arch at the sensations you are getting as your hard nipples are rubbing against his chest. 

But your mind is clear enough for you to do exactly what he asked of you. 

Your legs are pressing around him, not tight enough to make it hard for him to move, but enough to keep you attached to him. Your arms are around him, fingers running up to the nape of his neck and pulling at the back of his hair, while the other hand runs down his back, nails sinking into his skin as he takes you on a wild ride.  

Pleasure explodes through your body under his hard strokes. Your mouth falls open with a series of strained cries, calling his name. You wish he would lean down, to kiss you, to drown the sounds of pleasure that you are unable to hold in. Yet Taehyung chooses to pull back, allowing himself to keep his eyes on you as he continues with his relentless thrusts, making sure that he wouldn’t miss any sign of pain that may show on your face. 

But the pain that you had expected to come from his rough lovemaking only extends the pleasure. The wet sounds of his thrusts pushing deep inside you fills the room, growing intense by the minute. Your skin flushes warmly as blood pulses deep in your core, your pussy walls flutter around his girth, letting him know how close you are to reach the edge. 

“Are you close, baby? Do you want to come?” he whispers to you with a groan, and you find yourself crying out,

“Yes, Taehyung—I’m close. Please, let me cum. Please—” 

With his hands reaching down your hips, he lifts your bottom half slightly off the mattress, placing you in a new angle that allows him to reach deeper. Your whole body quakes once he finds your sweet spot, and as he repeatedly pushes his cock against that hidden spot inside you, you soon feel him pushing you over the edge, with him not slowing down even for just a moment. And you take it all while you continue clinging desperately to him with your nails sinking into the skin on his back. 

Pleasure flares through you like fireworks. A new wave of raw pleasure overcomes you, and your body erupts with the first wave of your orgasm. It flows smoothly through your body, but still intense enough to knock the air out of your chest. You cry out with a strained voice, your entire body shuddering beneath him. 

You heave as wave after wave of pleasure overcome your body, yet Taehyung shows no sign of stopping. Still not having enough, he still fills you up with long, deep strokes that rock your body and the entire bed together.

With every shake of your body, your nipples grow hard that they start to hurt as your skin keeps rubbing against his chest. Looking between you, Taehyung’s eyes turn darker with lust. You force yourself to watch him through your haze, feeling more than seeing it when he runs one hand down your belly. 

His big palm stays there, as if silently greeting the baby growing inside, before it continues to travel lower, finding home right where your bodies are joined. With his thumb and forefinger, he flicks at your engorged clit. Already throbbing and growing sensitive with the amount of frictions happening all at once, it sends your hips rising as another wave of pleasure rises from your core. 

Deep groans escape his lips as he savours the sight of you embracing the pleasure, and he continues playing with your clit—rubbing, flicking, pinching, drawing pain and pleasure over the constant thrusting of his cock. And just when you are feeling it building up once more from within, the telltale of your orgasm that you have been depraved of for so long, Taehyung leans down, capturing one taut nipple between his mouth and bites down. 

"Oh god. Oh god. I'm going to come again,” you cry out with your hips rising to meet each hard thrust that he is giving you.

“Yes, that’s it. Cum for me like a good girl," he croons against your skin, which sends you straight into the next round of climax while you are still riding the aftershock of your last one.

Your body shudders as another orgasm rocks your entire body, and your muscles clamp around his hard cock, sucking him with a tight clench as he thrusts in and out, pushing deep and sending your body shaking violently as you finally succumb into an earth-shattering orgasm that takes away the last drop of strength that you still have. 

And the force of your final orgasm is what sets him off. 

With a deep groan, and a rough tremble of his chest, Taehyung finally finds his release. You can feel his warmth filling your insides, his cock twitching and pumping between your spasming walls, and you are almost sure that the wicked sensation of him filling you up with his cum is enough to send you to a smaller, much more subtle climax. 

It takes a while for you to come down from the height of your release, and Taehyung is there, helping you to ride off your orgasm with the slow strokes of his cock and the gentle brush of his fingers as he slowly comes to halt. 

Once everything is done, your body is completely spent that you are unable to move. Your legs have turned languid as Taehyung gently drops them back onto the bed. The room is filled with the sound of deep breathing as both of you are fighting to catch your breaths. 

You can barely feel your arms moving, but essentially, he is freed from your tight hold, allowing him to pull out of you before dropping down beside you. 

The room no longer feels cold now that your entire body is burning hot. Seeing the thin sheet of sweat on his skin, you know that Taehyung is feeling the same heat, yet it doesn’t stop him from turning to his side and wrapping his arms around you to pull you close. 

The sound of your intense heartbeat makes it hard for you to listen to any other sounds. You feel so tired. The lack of sleep you had last night is making it hard for you to fight off the drowsiness that is coming over you. Feeling relieved and sated, you just want to give in to sleep. 

Your eyelids keep growing heavy, and once your breath is calm, you can feel Taehyung’s gentle kiss pressing on your temple. His voice is barely a whisper when he murmurs to you, “——sleep, rest for a while. It’s not like we’re in any rush to get anywhere, right?” 

You open your mouth to answer him, yet your body fights against it. His words seem to act like a spell, when you are soon taken deep into slumber, falling into a dreamless sleep with his arms wrapped around your body. 

When you finally come to, the soft light of the afternoon sun is slowly penetrating through the windows. 

It feels warm inside, especially now that you have a blanket covering your naked body and his heavy arm resting languidly around your waist, yet you know that the same cannot be said with the weather outside. Even without opening your eyes, you can still hear the sound of the fierce wind hitting the windows, and you doubt that the road would be safe enough for you to drive out of this place. 

You find yourself curling against Taehyung’s bare chest as you properly come to wake. His heartbeat is steady, and you can feel it when he starts waking up. 

“Hey, there—” you whisper, greeting him with a sleepy smile, which he returns with his goofy smile. “Was I asleep for a long time?” 

Taehyung shakes his head. “No, not long enough,” he whispers. “I also just woke up, though. So—” 

Chuckling softly, you stretch out next to him. Your muscles are lax, and while you still feel worn-out, the short nap has restored your energy some. It helps clear your mind, yet you still refuse to move a muscle. 

Glancing at Taehyung, you notice that he has a faraway look in his eyes. He keeps his gaze out the window, and you start wondering what he is thinking about. 

“Do you think we’re going to be okay?” Taehyung asks you with a gentle sigh.

You close your eyes briefly and sigh contently before answering, “With the baby? I mean, it might be a struggle at first. I know because I haven’t really grasp the fact that I’m carrying your baby, but—” 

“No, I’m not talking about this,” he says with his hand waving around your entangled bodies. “I’m talking about—” he waves his hand to point at the window. The muted light of the sun that you saw earlier is still looking bleak, more of a pale-grey than the usual golden, with the wild swirls of snow dropping from the sky and no sign of the blizzard letting up anytime soon. “That.” 

He sighs. “I feel like we’ve had strings of bad luck constantly following us.” 

Smiling against his chest, you know what he is trying to say. “We slept together twice, and both happened due to bad weather,” you deliberately deduce his thoughts with a hum. “Is that what you’re saying?” 

“Yeah,” he says with a delirious chuckle, finding it somewhat funny now that you have voiced his thoughts out loud. “Looks like we’re stranded together, again, until the wind starts letting up. They say it’s going to be soon, but I’m not sure.” 

You cannot stop smiling the more you think about it. “Funny how it keeps happening to us, huh? At least we can remember this day as the first Christmas morning we celebrated together,” you say this with a grin, as you pull back to rub at your stomach from over the blanket. “Just the three of us.”

Taehyung follows your gaze and scoffs. “Way to go for making me feel guilty about stealing you from your family on Christmas Day,” he grumbles, making you laugh. “And if we’re actually doing this, uh—this relationship, do you think it’ll be weird?” 

You look up to him, seeing the frown forming on his face. Before you can question what he means by it, Taehyung continues to explain, “Maybe I shouldn’t come to see your family again next Christmas, or anytime soon. At least until we’re settled and everyone has forgotten about everything.” 

The way he says it, and the way he looks when he did, makes you want to laugh. “I think we’re good. And you can always join us next year. Besides, the holidays aren’t so bad with you around. Not this year. It beats sitting down and listening to other people’s stories for once.” 

Hearing this, Taehyung raises his eyebrows at you. “Even with all the drama we had with your sister?” he asks, sounding doubtful. “In case you forgot, I almost had a brawl with your stepfather.” 

For the first time ever, you doesn’t feel any need to correct him by calling Alia as your stepsister. That thought makes you smile. But you keep it to yourself, and instead lean up to kiss his cheek to help ease his mind out of it. 

“What we had?” you question him with a teasing voice, “that’s nothing. You haven’t experienced having Aunt Janey around. Have you ever read or heard those Reddit stories about entitled aunts? She would have gotten all the trophies if anyone in the family has ever written anything about her online.” 

You smile as Taehyung listens to you with a chuckle, and you can feel his worries slowly being lifted. “And as for Dad—” you let out a sigh as you think about your protective stepfather, “let’s just hope that Alia manages to butter him up to let things go. You know that he’s weak when it comes to her. Or, you can buy him a drink the next time you see him.” 

Taehyung purses his lips as he considers this. For a moment, he doesn’t seem to believe your words, but he still nods his head either way. “Fine, I guess we can talk about that later. We’ll cross the bridge when we get there, I suppose?” he asks with a bashful smile. “Why don’t we focus on you for now, and the baby?” 

You prop yourself up on your elbow while holding up the blanket with the other arm to cover your nakedness from his hungry eyes. “Alright, what do you want to know?” 

“Everything,” he says with a grin as he sits up against the bed’s headrest. “Should we continue and maybe do this with a late lunch, though? I’m starving. I couldn’t eat anything at breakfast.” 

“Are you famished for food, or—” you tease him by leaning closer, “Do you have an appetite for another thing?

He groans. “If the second option has anything to do with you, then the answer would be both. But we need to get some food in our system if we want to get back into the other.” 

Laughing, you finally step out of the bed to call for the room service. You continue to spend the rest of the day with him, chatting over the meal, talking about your future plans and all the mundane things that you need to know about each other, before the heat between you picks up again and he pulls you back into bed.

Warmth envelopes you the entire time you are with him, regardless of the winter storm that is still happening outside of these walls. 

Author’s Note 2.0 | Thank you for reading this story! Any likes, kudos, comments, and feedbacks will be appreciated. See you in the next story :)

© All rights reserved. 2024 Yoonia — Unauthorized use and/or duplication of these works, including reposting, translating and modification in any form, is strictly prohibited. 

[hoseoksluna]

THE FUN DAY, pt. II. | kth

pairing: idol!military!boyfriend!taehyung x f. reader (ft. best friend!jimin)

genre: fluff, a little angst

word count: 5.0k

summary: you didn't prepare a fun day this time, but it became more than that.

pin: tba. / playlist: fun / taglist: join / discord: join

note: this was the first fic, during which i absolutely sobbed my heart out. i never had this happen to me and i'm sure you'll feel it as you read. please, show me your love. enjoy. <3

An abandoned woman can weep,  but an abandoned boy can weep not. Uncried affliction pains the most, even love, when seven mountains repose between it, the seven mountains of hard rocks. 

I have two small windows, I have two big eyes, but writings I have none that would drift, at dusk, upon my table, reminiscent of an ivory cloud, and that would say:  people love each other, man! 

𓂃 ౨ৎ . — The Evening by Jiří Wolker

Paris was chilled to the marrow, yet embraced by winter. Dotted with mute stars and coruscating lights, life and poetry that were missing syllables—as if it were trying to speak, trying to converse, but something was prying its fingers inside their mouth, not allowing them to let out a sound. 

That’s precisely how you felt within the depth of your afternoon nap. 

The Eiffel Tower tried with all its monumental might to say something. The cafés with their myriads of intellectual words, glasses of wine and desserts strained their throats much to their dismay. You gazed upon it all—and you felt it deeply, their forced inability that wasn’t theirs at all. You wore nothing but a flimsy, tattered white T-shirt that has seen its better days, an item of cotton that belonged to Taehyung, and your feet were bare on the cobblestones, scratched and raw, though not cold. In spite of it, you feared for your baby. Feared the cold, that you did not sense, would touch it and bring something unfortunate to its developing body. And you drifted like this through your dream, carrying fear and pity. For the whole vastness of Paris, forbidden to speak; and for the smallest of Paris inside your belly, unable to speak yet. 

You drifted and stood, gazing and gazing. Wanted to leave. Wanted to go back to your apartment, but you couldn’t. Your guilt kept you in your place while your fear strangled you until you were blue. 

No people in sight and you were dying. Blue and pregnant, blue and abandoned. Blue and maddened—within the realm of dreams, that is. 

And then just as you internally reach for Jimin, as you have many times since October, a hand is brushing through your hair, stirring you awake, stealing you away from the tragedy of it all. And the sensation of iciness prickling the tips of your toes is what you feel first, the heft of the large palm on the crown on your head second. 

A tearful whimper gushes out of your throat, the awareness that you’re no longer rooted in your dream making your body squirm under the fleece blanket. The fear punctures through the flesh of your heart one more time before it escapes through the crooked center of your shoulder blades. 

And there’s a figure sitting by the edge of your bed, nestled in the arc of your folded legs and rounded form.

And it’s no longer afternoon.

You blink in the dark, try to make out what is happening and before your sleepy brain comprehends who that large figure is, your heart knows. 

Your heart smells the autumn spices of his being. Apples, pumpkin and cinnamon, despite being clouded by the wintry air. It hasn’t seen him in three months, but it knows him. 

It knows him intimately. 

“Taehyung?” your heart whispers, the sound coming out of your throat loosely, yet with a piercing pain that is greater than the fear you felt. 

The autumn boy sighs, enveloping you in the homely snugness that you missed, that you lacked all this time. You reach for his hand, blindly, finding it somewhere on his lap, and upon that first contact, he speaks. 

“Hi, baby,” he croaks out, the words new and untouched by this strange reality—as if he saved them for this very moment, keeping them deep in his clavicles all those months. “I’m home.” 

The noise that leaves you could be mistaken for a saddened sob, but it’s one of such absolute joy. The autumn boy coos, leaning over to turn on the bedside lamp. The yellow light shows him to you and you discover that the autumn boy isn’t a boy at all. 

Taehyung is a man. 

Short, black hair decorates his forehead in a sweet, seemingly youthful way that is painstakingly oxymoronic. His bulbous cheeks are pallid, carrying the weight of the winter in them—new, new winter that you barely even recall basking in with him. They hold up his boxy smile, though, something that you never shall forget. And lingering your eyes there, the sight is surreal. 

So surreal that you lift a hand and caress that meaningful cheek, coloring it in a rose tint that grows warm in your palm. 

A man of all rose gardens and sculptures that are alive. 

And when he tilts his face into your touch, your heart swells to such an extent that you spring up into a sitting position and melt into him within a clasp. A warm, a real clasp. 

He’s real. 

He’s here. 

His hair is silkily soft, the tresses of an angel that takes care of flowers such as these. The skin upon the nape of his neck is feverish, as is the torso of his body that you half press up against. He didn’t feel this warm when you were wandering unknowingly in your imagination. And when you pull back to make sure that what you’re seeing isn’t that figment of that damned imagination of yours, he ascertains to you that he is real by letting his boxy smile quiver. 

It quivers; it is not frozen in place. Beautiful still, but not frozen. Quivering with the heft of all the emotions due to your reunion. 

And when you slide your palm down his chest, his two perfect lungs lift to kiss it, just to fall and kiss it again. Over and over again. 

Large chest. Large shoulders. Large biceps. 

And large eyes that melt into chocolate pools as he deepens your shared gaze, studying the way you’re comprehending his presence. He gives you all the time in the world, as if understanding that his absence was too long and, tenderly, you break. 

Tears rush to your irises while you acknowledge your soul with the principle of it all by tracing his body with your fingers. The veins of his hand, thumping under your touch, that are the roots of the trees that watch over the roses in his garden. So full of life and present time. The forearms that aren’t hidden by the tweed of his usual suits, but clothed in the plush of an off-white zipper jacket that your heart mourns. A clash of what you’re used to and the reality. 

He must have gotten off the plane at this hour. His duffel bag must be somewhere in the living room, abandoned now in place of you. 

You’re no longer abandoned. He’s here. 

You’re no longer delirious. He’s here. 

He was supposed to come in the morning. That’s what he said in your last phone call, where he let you in on what Jimin had done for the both of you. Your response to his promise in October manifested in the following months, but Jimin fought against it. Knelt before the feet of the man he’s afraid of and begged. Begged the Sergeant to make that call and allow Taehyung to have his vacation. Begged until his knees bruised and his hands left a wet print on the dirty floor. 

And the Sergeant softened, impressed by his strong will and the respect he showed him. Nodded his head and made it so Taehyung leaves by the end of the year. Did so well in North Korea, protected his military brothers before himself, the Sergeant interceded with those facts and off Taehyung went. 

Off to catch a plane in December. 

I’ll be home on New Year’s Eve, Taehyung said over the phone to you, and somehow he must’ve seen the pout that was forming on your mouth because he added a reassuring I know right after. 

You didn’t understand why he couldn’t have come a day earlier, but now you see that you didn’t have to understand it. 

Because Taehyung made it. 

He came home on his birthday. 

You press your face against the side of his, your arms back around his neck. “My love,” you whisper and gently squirm, for you feel a movement in your belly. You open your eyes, brushing your lashes across his rose petal cheek, smiling a smile that quivers just like his. That is first movement of your baby that you ever felt. The tears pour out, watering the soft skin. You kiss the pathway it created, only to stray away and go up, nudging your nose against his. Let out breaths of your overwhelmingness against him like this. Feel that your baby spoke to you, spoke in the only way it can, telling you to tell him. And you do. Finally, you do—after nearly six months. “I have a gift for you.” 

Humming, his long fingers find the back of your head, his arm caging you in as he buries his digits into the waterfall of your tousled hair, grown thicker now due to your pregnancy. 

You didn’t make any plans for tomorrow, fearful it would turn misfortunate like it did in October. And because his return is so sudden, so unexpected, telling him now feels more than right. Feels divine, feels memorable, the destiny propelled by your baby. 

Within the snug atmosphere of your embrace, you travel with your hand on a journey across his back far longer than it used to be, down his strong arm until you wind up at his fingers. You take them and place them on your swollen belly, bigger now than it used to be as well. 

Both of you changed in different ways. 

“Happy birthday,” you breathe out, the words accompanied by your strangled sobs, and just like the cafés, the Eiffel Tower and the life and the poetry of Paris in your drowsy, afternoon dream, Taehyung doesn’t say anything. 

Not for a while. 

His lungs pause. The moisture of his lips crumbles into dryness like a withering blossom. His eyelids remain unmoving, irises fixed on a spot you cannot see because you cannot stop gazing at his evident shock. 

One he begins to wake up from when the baby kicks against his hand. 

He blinks, a heavy breath gusts out of his lips, upon which he runs his tongue. He turns his head to face you, no longer smiling, but trembling. A film of wetness clouds his sparkling eyes and you think the wholeness of the magnificence of the Eiffel Tower is in them, perhaps even greater than it. And against the place the baby kicked, it rests with their small body, drawn to their Daddy’s warmth. And it is only then that your tears and his, at last and in tandem, fall out. And along with it—every stress you ever felt regarding not being able to conceive. 

“We did it?” he asks, carefully, his voice raspy, quiet and deep, wanting to hear it from you first before he looks down, and you can merely nod. He whimpers, sniffling, glancing into your eyes with such depth that it moves through you, sealing something within you. Perhaps joy, perhaps satisfaction with life, perhaps the boundless love that you feel for him, and you want to stay in this moment for far longer than time allows you. But it is foolish, this want of yours. Because when Taehyung finally looks down at your belly, it is a moment that is slowly and surely carving itself into your skin, your flesh and your bloodline. For your baby to see in the future. He fondles the rounded valley of their little body and comes to terms with it, vividly. His sobs stream out, pained but ebullient, and there his mouth cracks that boxy smile. Real, colorful, shining. “We did it.” 

You nod again, the warmth of his hand boiling, homely, so right. “We did it, Taehyung.” 

His eyes flick to yours and as they close, he closes his fingers around the back of your neck as well and kisses you. Boiling, homely, right and real. 

Not a figment of your imagination. Not your delirium, caused by your abandonment, by the other end of your love that missed him. 

This is reality. This is the present moment. 

Taehyung deepens the kiss and in it you feel the gladness of his being, the words ‘finally’ that begin to unfold down your throat, hasty to meet your baby in your belly. 

And Taehyung is hasty, too. 

Breaking the kiss, he leans down and presses his lips against that rounded valley. Peppers a hundred, a thousand, a million kisses against that part of the baby’s body. Lingers there, cheek against it, head on your thigh, and breathes. 

You let him bask in it for as long as he needs, raking your fingers through his short hair. And your teardrops fall onto his colored cheek when he begins to talk to his baby. 

“Daddy’s here, little one,” he says, his tone mellifluous, his lips brushing against their body with each pronounced word—just like Jimin’s thumb brushed against your small belly at the time when he held your hand outside of the jazz club. “Daddy loves you so much. He can’t wait to meet you, but he has to finish his military service first and then he’ll be home for good. With you and Mommy. I’ll take care of you both. I’ll never leave again.” 

You swipe away your tears from his cheek and Taehyung straightens. Kisses your lips. Kisses your cheek, your jaw, your neck and hugs you as if he never hugged you before, three hearts connected in that embrace when he pulls you onto his lap and holds you. 

He inhales your scent, your hair, the sleep you emerged out of, tracing patterns on your back. And then the sweetest form of interrogation happens. 

He brushes your hair back with both hands, keeping it in place behind your ears. “How far along are you?” 

You can’t halt the bloom of the grin on your face, the question reminding you of Jimin. “Five months. Six next week.” 

He reciprocates the smile, but as he begins to do the math, it withers. “So your due date is in May?” 

The corners of your mouth downturn. You haven’t allowed yourself to fully think about the time in the near future in terms of you giving birth, knowing the pain it would bring. You’re aware you should prepare yourself for it, so the worst doesn’t happen, but you also don’t want to prematurely cause harm to your baby with that stress. 

Your emotions are in shambles. They are a threat and you wish they weren’t. 

“May 30th is my due date, but it doesn’t mean I give birth on that day. I can give birth in June, too. It depends on the baby.” You laugh, softly and shortly. “Can you take a leave?” 

You can see him racking his brain, his features solemn and tense. “I get discharged on June 10th and I don’t know if the commander will allow me…” he trails off, briefly looking away before finding his way back to your eyes. “Don’t worry about that. It’s my responsibility. I’ll be here. You won’t be alone during your first childbirth, I promise you that. I’ll be here. Do you trust me?” 

Without a shadow of doubt, you do, and so you don’t hesitate to nod your head and express it through your own words. “I do, Taehyung. I trust you.” 

He smiles, the blush in his cheeks deepening its hue. “Good.” 

He kisses you, gently, and it’s a kiss of such romantic affection that you forget about the threat of the stress, the threat of him not being here during your childbirth. You melt into him, basking in the demonstration of his love for you, of the pride he feels because of the way you trust in him. You can enormously feel it all, as if it was written on his lips and you could read it. 

He’s daubed in this resplendent romance as he withdraws. Coated in sweat, he’s so refulgent that you dissolve, falling in love with him all over again. Your inner child swoons and you sense her emotions, as though you were her in the autumn of your childhood, being caught by him during a chase, surrounded by pumpkins and apples. The emotions she felt when she looked at him more differently than she ever did in her lifetime and realized that she wants to marry him and have a baby with him. 

That undreamed dream came true. And somehow that is healing her. Somehow, that allows her to rest peacefully, having drawn her last breath. 

Taehyung kisses your chin. And kisses her goodbye at the same time. “Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl?” 

You shake your head. “The doctor asks you at the five month check-up if you want to know the gender, but because you weren’t with me, I didn’t want to. My next check-up is next week, though. We can find out together.” 

You expect him to smile at that, but Taehyung frowns, placing a kiss on your forehead. “I’m sorry you had to go to these check-ups all alone. I’ll go with you this time, baby.” 

The anguish you had buried in yourself deep resurfaces. Maybe that is one of the reasons why you were so delirious in October. You had to go through the final stage to adulthood all by yourself, abandoned. 

Something tells you to tell him, but shame holds you back, twisting your tongue. You furrow your brows, breaking free of the amorous eye contact you had with Taehyung, and he immediately catches onto the shadowed side of your emotions. 

He grasps it into his hand, like he so very often grips your hair. “What’s wrong?” 

You bite your lip, still looking away. “Did Jimin tell you anything about the day you were supposed to have your vacation?” 

There’s an interlude between his response and you glance at him to see him drifting through the library of his memories. With furrowed brows, just like your own. 

“I only spoke to Jimin once and he asked me if my commander allowed me to have his vacation. That’s how I found out he was willing to give it up for me, but I didn’t know why,” he says, lifting his head from the myriads of life-records, uncertainty and confusion covering his eyes. “But I didn’t get his vacation. My commander gave me a reward vacation because of what I did in the north. Why did Jimin want to give up his vacation for me?” 

The shame inches closer, scratching your back, but for your baby, you shake it away. Decide to tell him because you trust him and because you can tell him anything without the fear of prejudice. 

“Because I went mad on that day,” you start, straight and flat. Taehyung widens his eyes, but then his brows lower down, as if they were saying, excuse me? Anger eclipses his face, one that feels safe, though. “I imagined you being here with me. I planned this fun day with you and Jimin, taking you on a walk through the park on the way to the jazz club, where you kissed me for the first time. I wanted to tell you about the baby. Jimin was supposed to honor you for your mission in the north by singing, but I ruined everything. Nobody saw you when I saw you very clearly… until I didn’t.”

Pensiveness smooths out over his anger that boils, quietly. And once again, like Paris in your dream, he doesn’t say anything at all. He contemplates the information you’ve given him and the patterns he’d been engraving into your back reach their end, no longer circling on their own without his assistance. 

“Why didn’t he tell me any of this?” he asks, keeping his voice low, so his anger doesn’t touch you. “I should've known…” 

There was no contact between you and him for the two months he was on his mission, and phone calls were forbidden. It seems as though he’s dwelling on this fact as he doesn’t finish his sentence, rooting his eyesight on your lips, absentmindedly. 

Jimin said one month, but he was wrong. 

North is brutal. Too, too brutal. 

Thank God Taehyung came out unscathed. 

Another interlude of foreign, but not entirely uncanny silence settles in between and, blinking rapidly, Taehyung sighs. Brushes your hair back one last time before he takes your hands in his. A gesture of absolute genuineness, a foreshadowing to his following words. 

“I’m sorry,” he begins, his voice throaty. “I’m sorry for not being here. I’m sorry for being so far away. And I’m sorry our dream came true when I have to be away.” 

His pity cuts through you, reminiscent of your dream, and you realize that the pity you felt in that other world wasn’t yours. It was his, and the element of the inability to speak was the principle of him not being here and not being able to react. It’s all connected—your dream told you about his return and about his feelings. And you felt them because you’re a part of him, carrying his child. 

You soften, seized by it all, and you hide your face in his neck, fading into him. “It’s okay. You’re here now. Maybe it was supposed to happen now. We both changed, didn’t we? We grew up.” 

He forces you to look at him and the pity on his face breaks you. The rose petals in his cheeks died, the smooth surface now swirls with pallidness once again. His brown pools are glossy with the depth of that emotion, millions of words swimming in them. He can’t say them, he can’t catch up to them, and when he closes his eyes, presses his forehead against yours and sighs, you’re aware of how hard this is for him. 

You had five months to come to terms with this star-crossed situation. He’s barely had an hour. 

“I want to be here for you. I want to help you. I don’t want to leave you alone with the baby,” he murmurs against you, squeezing your hands to make you understand how much this means to him, and you allow the wall, which you had built up along with Jimin to keep your mind and your emotions safe, to collapse, completely. Fresh tears drip down your cheeks, your chin trembling. “Have you had any morning sickness?” 

You nod, recollecting your first nausea in the first trimester when Jimin was still around. “Yes, it started when Jimin was here. He was there for me. Until he had to go back to Korea.” 

A war flashes on his face and, right away, he lets you know which side has won. “I want to be here for you, not Jimin. Do you understand me?” 

You open your mouth in shock because you still, faithfully, remember the words he spoke to you in your imagination. Jimin is cute, but he’s strong and sane enough to protect you while I’m gone. And with shock comes the realization that the chapter ends. It is the final puzzle piece, the last enlightenment you needed—because in reality, Taehyung didn’t say those words. Taehyung didn’t give his blessing for Jimin to take care of you in his absence. Your own ego did. 

Taehyung mistakens your silence and your comprehension of that for displeasure, and he clicks his tongue in regret, sighing your name. 

“I’m glad Jimin was there for you, don’t get me wrong, but I just wish it was me. Who knows if I ever get a chance to be your partner in this again,” he spills out, truthfully, and watches as another rivulet of tears trickles down your face. He wipes them away, blinking his own away, too. “I want to rub your back, baby. I want to watch your belly grow big. I want to tie your shoes, bring you food and buy baby clothes with you. I don’t want Jimin to do that because it’s my job. It’s my duty.” 

You understood him then and you understand him now. Agree with him as that truth anchors in your heart. Jimin was kind to do what he did and you’re grateful for it. Without him, you’d be roaming in your delusions. And Taehyung needs to know that he helped you with that first and foremost. 

“Jimin wasn’t my partner in that, Taehyung,” you croak out, inhaling deeply so your sentences flow out better. “I agree with you that it’s your job and I also want it to be you. But what Jimin did was save me from my own mind. I was lost without you, pregnant and alone, and he kept those delusions far away from me. I needed that. I needed a friend.” 

Taehyung nods, understanding, caressing your tear-stained face. The color percolates back to his cheeks, little by little. And you can see a weight being lifted off his shoulders. 

Calmness expands in your sternum. 

“I will give him my thanks for that,” he settles, kissing your temple, leaving his lips there, against that intimate place. “You won’t be left alone with your mind again. I’ll try my hardest to be there for you, to keep in touch. I’ll talk to my commander. I’ll do anything. But I promise you won’t have those delusions again because you’ll be busy with me.” 

The last tears that surge out are of relief and you hug him, squeeze him in gratitude. “Thank you, Taehyung. I love you.” 

He sinks his fingers into the patterns he engraved into your back, rocking you side to side in that embrace, his lips by your ear. “I love you, baby. I’ll buy you a big house. We’ll go on a shopping spree next week and get all the things the little one needs. I’ll take care of you both.” 

You kiss him and in the middle of that expression of affection, the baby kicks again. Taehyung feels it against his own tummy and he grins and laughs into the kiss, lifting you up with utmost ease and setting your feet down on the carpet near the record player by the wall. 

And the music he begins to play isn’t of the jazz kind he loves so much. He put down a vinyl that bears Billie Eilish’s face and when Halley’s Comet sounds out throughout the bedroom, he takes your hand and drifts on the carpet with you. 

Not under the brown, dimmed lights of the jazz club, but under the yellow lights of the bedroom where you reached the beginning journey of your adulthood. And now as you dance with him, pregnant with his baby, you feel as much as an adult as a human can possibly feel like one. 

The final stage. 

Everything changes with this song. 

Halley’s Comet comes around more than I do…

Taehyung doesn’t come often, but he’s here now. Big and buff, cinnamon, apples and pumpkin. The boy you loved turned into a man that you love even more. 

From a baby boy friend to a baby Daddy. 

And as he looks down into your eyes, he asks you what names you want to give to the baby. And you whisper it to him, letting yourself be led into a dance of adulthood. 

“Perfect,” he whispers back, kissing you and staying there for as long as he needs, for as long as you need because you grip his shoulder with all your might, afraid to let him go. 

Because after he piles up your apartment with the crib, the stroller, the high chair, the diapers and so many non-colorful baby clothes that you need another set of furniture, he has to leave again. And you cry so hard that you can’t get any words out. But Taehyung hears them. He hears them in the hundreds of kisses you exchange and he hears them in the last hug you give him and in the last goodbye you say to him. 

And he comes back on May 29th, bigger and more buff than he was, prepared to be a Daddy. Spends the day moving into the new house he bought you with Jimin as his help and no one else. Paints the baby’s room pink because you’re having a baby girl that he grew his muscles for to protect her. 

His commander gave him a special leave and forbade him from coming back and finishing his service. Apparently, the man himself has five children and four grandchildren. Is a softie when it comes to them. 

And when Taehyung is done with the house and sits with you on your new couch, he announces it to the baby girl. Your home is ready, little one. You can come out now. And he laughs so hard that the delightful sound pulses through the walls, taking a sip of his soda. 

And she does come out the next day, sharing the same number of her birth date with her Daddy. Taehyung holds your hand, as calm as the spring wind, as you push her out. Breathes with you, guides you, controls your inhales and exhales. Keeps his lips pressed against your temple—and he purses his lips against the same spot on the baby girl’s head once he holds her. 

And Taehyung looks at you, and you look at him. Joyful tears fall, in tandem, with his. 

And the happy event repeats two years later. What Taehyung feared the most didn’t come true. He watched your belly grow with his second child while holding the hand of the first. He rubbed your back while you threw up the breakfast he had learned to make for you. He tied your shoes when you couldn’t bend down due to your large bump, his daughter standing beside him, watching his every move, learning about love from him. And he bought colorful clothes for the baby with its gender already in mind. 

Blue, brown, green and beige. 

A baby boy for the baby girl. A reversed picture of you and him, growing together. 

And as your babies grow together, you grow old with Taehyung, too. 

And he never leaves. Never again. 

And he buys you tulips of all colors every single week, whose sweet scent the children inhale and whose pink hues color their cheeks. And they play with Uncle Jimin until he brings them cousins to utterly fall in love with.

𓂃 ౨ৎ LOVE-KISSED BABIES: @jjk7k , @tkslovechild , @euphoricmyth , @cinmmongirl , @ririkookiemonster , @perfectiondazesworld , @https-mei , @bangtansonyeondanue , @jungkoock , @cinmmongirl , @hoseokkie-caeks , @kam9404 , @fr0ggieth1nk , @parkinglot-nights

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved

BACK to masterlist | read part one

[jeonitopia]

BABY TIME

🪐 bts x f! pregnant! reader (separate)

🪐 headcanons // fluff+angst

☆ warnings: none except maybe no beta read !

a/n: potential part 2 for when the baby is born? depends on if people like this.. also just short hcs bcuz well.. i overdid myself and did all 7 in one post... sigh (i made tis longer than it was supposed to be wtf)

☆KIM SEOKJIN

"Aishh! you already had chocolate earlier!"

constantly watching your diet, making sure all your vitamin and certain intakes are proper

"Jin I'm craving ramyeon with milk mixed in.." "WHAT"

catching him ask his mom what she needed and what she wouldve done if she got pregnant again (he has no shame)

he's an absolute prince in your child's eyes

when he has to leave, he calls you at least every 2 hours and if he can't, he messages you!! (asking for pics of you and the baby)

in love with role-playing with the child, wether it be king and princess, or knights and bandits (you're the damsel in distress)

☆ | 🪐 | ☆

☆MIN YOONGI

honestly, he was terrified of being a father because of his experience with his own father

once he realized the whole weight of the situation, he understood that he WILL be a good (and supportive) father because you are with him

learning that your child also has a thing for music

absolutely bringing your baby to the studio and letting him have his own crib next to his producing set-up

has noise cancelling headphones for the baby if he has to record something or when he's going to fully focus on producing

(of course has the volume on his headphones a medium volume so he can hear if the baby wakes up)

made a joke about how in daechwita, you'd be his empress and the baby is the heir

cue him posting a photo of the three of you in traditional hanbok (yoongi in daechwita outfit, without the long hair because baby will be upset)

☆ | 🪐 | ☆

☆JUNG HOSEOK

always taking photos of your progress

"look here!"

he always tries to keep you active

massages all day everydayyy

you got him to chill with the dance practices so that he both doesnt overwork himself AND you get to spend more time with him

absolutely doing the silliest things to entertain the baby

it's obvious who the favorite is 😐

showing dance moves to the baby and doing silly faces

has a picture of the three of you in hope world, he loves staring at it and just being grateful for his family

he's j-hope, you're bae-hope, baby is mini/baby-hope

☆ | 🪐 | ☆

☆KIM NAMJOON

songs containing references and metaphors that relate to you and the baby (not that he DIDNT do this before)

maybe even a whole mini-album dedicated to your journey into parenthood, each song created throughout your progress till your due date

he did his thorough research on pregnancy and things related to it and constantly gives you advice

when the baby is old enough for long distance rides, family trips are a common thing

loves cradling the baby and blabbering about an art piece they're standing in front of

you're so in love? help???

he has 3 lil plants, the 3rd plant being a new sprout that he likes to say is the baby (it sprouted the day the baby was born?? omg???)

☆ | 🪐 | ☆

☆PARK JIMIN

you became an absolute princess the moment he found out you were pregnant

wonders if the baby would grow up to have the same fingers as his papa mochi

already planning to convince the baby to try a martial art or a type of dancing so he and his papa can have multiple ways of bonding

dropping hints about the baby mochi on some of his lives

one time he asked if he can try your breastmilk

😐😑😐

teasing him about how when the baby holds his fingers, they look the same

☆ | 🪐 | ☆

☆KIM TAEHYUNG

honestly you'd have around 2-3 kids

but this is your first one, taehyung is honestly nervous

absolutely SURE he wants to be a father but more worried on if he'd be a good one

at this point, he'd also be another baby

"Ack, my feet hurt quite a bit.." "AREYOUALRIGHT?DOYOUNEEDTOGOTOTHEHOSPITAL??ILLCALLDOCTORPARK"

you personally think he might be the one more stressed even when he isnt the one carrying the baby

2nd questioner of wifey's breast milk taste

yeontan and the baby being bestfriends

yeontan has super instincts and starts going wild when he feels the baby is about to start crying

☆ | 🪐 | ☆

☆JEON JUNGKOOK

he watched the movie Up with taehyung and they googled why the old couple had a miscarriage, he learned it was from lead exposure

so now he keeps you away from drying walls and dusty areas and even has a small baggy filled with masks and cleansing tissue

he calls it "baby protection protocal"

surprisingly very calm and responsible! (hes trying to win your trust so that he can spoil your child rotten)

absolutely DROPS the fact that he is having a child and dragged you into the view of the live

3rd questioner of wifey's breast milk taste

baby plays with daddy's lip ring because he finds it really cool

baby also thinks daddy's sleeve tattoo is cool and always wants to slobber his saliva on it

baby wants to ride on bam's back??? 😭😭😭😭

[7ndipity]

Them With Pregnant S/o HCs

Taehyung x Reader, Jungkook x Reader

Summary: How they would look after their S/o during pregnancy and interact with the baby bump.

Warnings: none

A/N: Thanks to @lovelyxoxosworld for this request! Everybody seems to have babies on the brain lately, idk what’s going on, lol. I did include a few points about earlier months just for the sake of covering all the bases, but I tried to keep the focus on the later months like you asked.

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Taehyung:

When the two of you found out you were expecting, he was beyond excited and emotional. He’d always dreamt of having a family of his own, so the fact that it was finally happening, and with you, meant the world to him.

He would talk to them all the time. As soon as he comes home, he kisses you and asks how your day was, and then kneels down to kiss your belly and ask them the same thing.

He would play question games with your belly, like one kick for yes, two kicks for no. He’d probably try to get them to side with him during arguments.

Likes to just hold/hug you from behind and trace patterns over your bump.

You tend to fall asleep most nights talking about names or trying to guess what their personality will be like.

“We’re not naming them after Jimin.” “Why not?” “The rest of your members will be pissed.” “We can name the next ones after them.” “THE NEXT ONES?!”

He really dedicates himself to studying your pregnancy books and trying to be as educated as possible about the whole process.

As your belly gets bigger, he tries to help and take over as many household tasks as possible, reminding you every time you try to argue with him about smth that you’re growing A HUMAN?! You’re busy enough!

He loves getting to dote on you; helping you apply cream to your belly for stretch marks, giving you back rubs to ease any aches and pains, he’ll even paint your toenails for you if you want!

He takes so many photos of you as the pregnancy progresses, wanting to immortalize as much of this time as possible.

Jungkook:

When he found out that you were pregnant, he was so beside himself with happiness that he couldn’t sit still. He kept bouncing/pacing around the room, coming over at regular intervals to hug and kiss you and your tummy, and then back to pacing.

Reads so many pregnancy books he basically becomes a walking encyclopedia for a couple months.

When he finds out they can hear in there, he talks to them constantly, including them in your conversations and singing to them before bed.

He cried a little bit the first time he felt the baby kick, bc it just made everything a lot more real. Like, he knew they were there, but getting to actually feel them and interact with them was a whole different thing.

As your belly gets bigger, and daily tasks get more difficult to do, he becomes your full-time assistant, doing everything and anything he can to help out.

Refuses to let you do anything remotely straining in fear of you hurting yourself. Like, he gets anxious about you even carrying your own bag half the time.

Loves doing that thing where he holds/supports your belly to take the weight off your back for a few minutes so you can rest a little bit.

Will one hundred percent try any weird food cravings you have, just to know and to see if he can start predicting what the next ones will be.

Is constantly coming up with new name ideas and desperately wants to be the one to find THE name. “Heads: you win, Tails: I get to pick the baby’s name.”

Probably falls asleep with a hand resting on your belly most nights.

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan

[demonshauntingthedoves]

𝒌𝒊𝒎 𝒔𝒆𝒐𝒌𝒋𝒊𝒏

Hiraeth : Yandere!seokjin x female reader (@wildestdreamsblog )

Mold a Pretty Lie : YandereProfessor!jin x undergrad!female reader (@blog-name-idk )

Fools Paradise : YandereStranger!jin x pregnant reader (@min-hoax )

Price of Prejudice : YandereLord!jin x femal reader (@girlmeetsliv3)

Mercy : YandereKing!seokjin x maid female reader (@raggaraddy)

Obsidian Pearl : YandereMerman!seokjin x female reader (@angelicyoongie )

Ringmaster : YandereRingmaster!jin x female reader (@koosbabygrl)

Closed Curtains : YandereDirector!jin x rookie actress female reader (@angellgguk )

Sit, still look pretty; : YandereHusband!jin x wife reader (@aajjks )

𝒌𝒊𝒎 𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒋𝒐𝒐𝒏

Let the Villain Win : YandereWriter!namjoon x female (@lemonjoonah)

Persephone : YandereMafia!namjoon x female reader (@deepdarkdelights )

Baby Fever : YandereIdol!namjoon x female reader (@wildestdreamsblog)

𝒎𝒊𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒊

Latibule : YandereMafia!yoongi x female reader (@wildestdreamsblog)

Angel's Mask : YandereMafia!yoongi x female leader (@min-hoax )

Daisy : YandereTeacher!yoongi x female reader (@cosmostae )

𝒋𝒖𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒆𝒐𝒌

Runaway : YandereVampire!hoseok x female reader (@raggaraddy)

Forbidden Fruit : Yandere!hoseok x fem reader (@deepdarkdelights)

𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝒋𝒊𝒎𝒊𝒏

Little Mouse : YandereBully!jimin x chubby brazilian female reader (@thvlouvre )

Porcelain : YandereDollseller!jimin x female reader (@deepdarkdelights)

The Scent Of The Flower : YandereStepdad!jimin x female reader (@cosmostae)

Defiant Affairs : YandereStepbro x female reader (@yandere-society)

From Afar : YandereTeacher!jimin x female reader (@min-hoax )

𝒌𝒊𝒎 𝒕𝒂𝒆𝒉𝒚𝒖𝒏𝒈

Open : YandereBully!taehyung x stalker-ish female reader (@euphoricfilter )

Strawberries : Yandere!taehyung x female reader (@cosmostae )

Cut : YandereActor!taehyung x female actor reader (@deepdarkdelights)

𝒋𝒆𝒐𝒏 𝒋𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒌𝒐𝒐𝒌

POLARITY : YandereBestfriend'sbf!jungkook x female reader (@darkestcorners )

DARKNETS : YandereHacker!jungkook x female reader (@darkestcorners )

Bloody Love : YandereKing!jungkook x female reader (@hongjoongscafe)

Hangman : Yandere!jungkook x female reader (@aft3rhrs)

The Deepest Marks of Essence : YandereTribeleader!jungkook x female reader (@lleldey)

The Crimson Shell : YandereMermaid!jungkook x female reader (@angelicyoongie )

Obsesión : YandereRugbyplayer!jungkook x hispanic latina reporter female reader (@thvlouvre )

Raven : YandereCultleader!jungkook x female reader (@darkestcorners )

I'm not human at all : Yandere!jungkook x female reader (@silv3rswirls)

Velvet Heart : YandereIdol! jungkook x female reader (@bonny-kookoo )

LESSON I : YandereTeacher!jungkook x bully student fem reader (@redsaurrce )

Companionship : Yandere!jungkook x female reader (@aft3rhrs)

Bunny koo : Yanderebunnyhybrid!jungkook x owner fem reader (@aajjks )

Your eyes tell : YandereTwin!jungkook x female reader (@angellgguk )

Brother Knows Best : YandereStepbro!jungkook x female reader (@cosmostae)

Angel : Yandere!jungkook x female reader (@silv3rswirls)

You Are My Crown : YanderePrince!jungkook x female reader (@redsaurrce)

Silver blades : YanderePrince!jungkook x fem reader (@jooniyah )

Scream, baby : Yanderebf!jungkook x female reader (@aajjks )

Nuisance : YandereStepbro!jungkook x female reader (@min-hoax )

Devil's Child : YandereStepbro!jungkook x female reader (@cosmostae )

Crush : YandereSimp!jungkook x barista fem reader (@aajjks )

Heartstrings : YandereNerd!jungkook x fem reader (@cosmostae )

[lovelycupid47]

Lies, Love, and Lullabies | Yandere! Cheater! Jungkook One-shot

a/n: This took longer than usual and it is kind of everywhere. Also a little inside of what my mind comes up with.

pairing: Yandere!Cheater! Jungkook x pregnant! housewife! female reader. Slight Taehyung x female reader

warning: cheating, miscarriage, yandere behavior, obsession behavior, blood, murder, physical assault, manipulation, kidnapping, gun involvement, mentions of attempted murder, suicidal thoughts, and inconsistent pace. (unedited)

Since you were little, you had a dream of meeting the perfect husband and having a happy family with two kids and a dog by your side. The picture-perfect family you always wanted. You thought you did. You met your husband during college and have been married for 2 years after graduation. You are now 7 months pregnant with his child and you couldn’t be happier than ever, but things never last long.

For about a month, your husband, Jungkook, has been suspicious. Leaving the house early, coming home late, and asking for two portions for lunch, his phone has been buzzing non-stop, and made sure that he had it in his possession at all times. His excuse was that he had been working overtime to provide more money for the baby, you were a little hopeful but noticed the lack of intimacy that you were craving.

You tried initiating some intimacy but always claimed that he was tired and that he wasn’t in the mood which was off since he always had a high sex drive. Now that you are asking for it, he doesn’t want it anymore. Really increases your insecurity when you are growing a human being inside you causing stretch marks and extra fat on different parts of your body. You were starting to think that Jungkook doesn’t want to look at your body anymore. 

However, there would be times when he is his sweet lovable self that you fell in love with. He would be talking to the baby late at night and would rub your bump to feel your baby kicking. Things like that erase his past actions, but it never lasts for long. 

One day, your husband forgot his lunch, and being the good wife you are, you decided to surprise him at work and bring his lunch. He has been working hard for the baby and it felt right to make sure he has his meal. 

You waddled out of your car with lunch kit in hand and hand on top of your belly. You were heading towards the receptionist and asked for your husband. “You can right ahead in, Mr. Jeon should be on lunch break now.” She told you where the lunch break room was at and you headed straight toward the room and saw that your husband was there along with a woman that is tall and you can tell from the window door, that she had a better figure than you did. She had a skin-tight black dress with red stilettos heels and had perfect wavy hair. Neither of them can see you since their back is against the glass door.

You were about to open the door when you saw Jungkook, your husband, gently cupping her cheek and having an arm around her waist. You can tell they talking to one another and the closeness is making your heart beat faster than ever before. Tears were silently streaming down your face and you were near breaking down any moment.

It was when you saw your husband slowly lean in and leave a kiss on her lips and that is when you broke. You slammed open the door and looked directly at Jungkook who was so shocked that he immediately stepped away from the women. 

 “Honey! What are you here?” He exclaimed while trying to walk towards you. You didn’t scream, you didn’t shout, and you definitely didn’t give the reaction that he was expecting. All Jungkook saw was tears streaming down your face and with barely any emotions. 

“Hi honey, I was just bringing you lunch. Just being a good wife I am.” You said as you slowly took out his lunch box from the bag and opened the box showing him the cute little bento lunch you put all your love and work on. 

“Listen, it is not what you think.” You looked at the woman and back at him with quirked eyebrows.

“Really? What were you two doing that is not what I was thinking then. Please enlighten me Jeon Jungkook. Tell me what is ‘really’ going on that I can be wrong of thinking.” Your voice started to rise as you slowly walked towards him, with the bento still in your hands. 

As expected, he didn’t give an answer and you weren’t going to accept that. Before anyone knew it, you slammed the bento into his nice pristine suit that you ironed this morning, leaving a huge stain on his clothes. Jungkook and the woman were so shocked that they didn’t acknowledge that you already left the room and started heading towards your car. It was a struggle since you were caring about a 10-pound baby, but you managed to make it in your car, locked the door, and sat there in silence. You were so shocked that you didn’t register that you started the car and headed to your best friend, Kim Taehyung’s, apartment. 

When you knocked on his door, he was not expecting to see you and your red tear-stained face. All you did was just hug him as much as possible you can and start sobbing in his arms. 

“Y/N? What happened? Are you okay? Is the baby okay?” He kept asking, but all you did is sob even harder. 

Once you both settled into his living room, cuddled up with each other in silence. He waited until you spoke up, he didn’t want to ask too much because your hormones are haywire due to your pregnancy.

“Jungkook… Cheated on  me.” You finally spoke, leaving Taehyung flabbergasted. He was angry but didn’t want to overwhelm you. You explained from that past month until now how Jungkook was caught in the break room.

“What are you going to do? Whatever you decide I’ll be right there for you.” Taehyung was ready to be there for you and even perform any task that you needed to do.

“That is the thing, I don’t know what to do. I’m a housewife who is 7 months pregnant and the majority of my items and furniture belong to Jungkook, my parents are on the other side of the world, and I have no money. I’m stuck.” You were already thinking about going back to Jungkook. He is your rock. He promised that you won’t have to work anymore and to always depend on him. Looking back now, you wished you would have argued more about that rather than being naive and accepting the lifestyle. 

“Stay here with me.” Taehyung offered, looking directly at you, “I’ll provide for you and the baby. Heck, I’ll take the extra shift at the bar, if it means to make sure that you don’t go back to that scumbag.”

“Tae, I can’t have you doing that. You won’t be able to afford another human being. Then when the baby comes out, that would be even more expensive.” Tears started streaming down your face again. 

“I don’t care. I love you so much, and I don’t want you to go back to that asshole, who clearly doesn’t understand that you are perfect. I’m willing to make sacrifices just to make sure you stay with me.” He leaned his forehead against yours and at this point, you can’t say no to him when he is willing to do everything for you.

Suddenly they heard a rapid knock at his door. It was already late and Taehyung wasn’t expecting anyone to come over. The knocking wouldn’t stop and you could tell the person on the other side was impatient. 

“Taehyung! It’s me Jungkook! I need you to open up.” You look at your best friend and can tell he doesn’t want to answer the door. 

“Go to my room. Make sure he doesn’t see you. I’ll handle this.” He slowly got up from the couch and approached his door. He looked back to make sure that you were in his room out of sight before opening the door. 

There he saw a disheveled Jungkook with a brown stain button-up shirt, impatiently knocking on the door.

“Taehyung, have you seen Y/N. We kind of went into an argument. I’ve tried calling her and messaging her but she is not responding.” Taehyung kept a straight face, making sure his facial expression did not give anything away.

“No, I haven’t. The last time I contacted her was last night.” Both of them knew that was a lie. Jungkook can be obvious sometimes, but when it comes to Y/N, all senses come back. 

“Really? Are you sure?” Jungkook straightened up and was advancing towards Taehyung. Jungkook had always disliked your best friend since the first day you introduced them, but Jungkook wanted to impress you and held his grudge against you. Now that you aren’t here, he was ready to release hell on him.

“Listen, dude, I’ve never liked you one bit and I know you don’t like me, but right now I just want my pregnant wife back and I KNOW for a fact she is here because her car is parked outside your apartment.” In reality, he put a tracker on your phone and followed it from his phone. 

“Look, you are not allowed to see her. I don’t care if she is your wife, but the shit you pulled on her, you don’t deserve her. Don’t worry about the baby because at least it won’t know who their true father is. An asshole douchbag that only wants to get his dick wet by some lousy coworker.” Taehyung was ready to shut the door, but Jungkook burst through and grabbed him by the collar. 

“You know what, I can just kill you right here and take my wife with me. No matter what, I’m getting my wife back with you alive or not.” Jungkook started choking him while Taehyung was struggling since he wasn’t the most muscular out of the two.

“JUNGKOOK! Let him go! Please!” You burst out of the room and grabbed his shirt from behind. Jungkook didn’t want to let go, but for your safety, he let go and grabbed you. He held you against him as gently as possible because of your bump.

“Honey, please, I’ve made a mistake, please can we work this out? I want to explain everything and we can start all over. Please don’t leave me.” He had his head nuzzled in your neck feeling his tears. 

“Jungkook, please let go. I can’t do this right now, I need space. All of this is too much to handle right now.” You tried distancing yourself from him, but he tightened his hold on you not wanting to let go.

“No! I understand it is a lot, but we can go through this together. I’m not leaving you with him of all people.” 

Taehyung was getting irritated. “Leave my house! Before I call the police for trespassing.” When you think he is going to let go and leave, but before anything happens, Jungkook swings his fist at him and starts beating him up. 

“This-” punch, “Is-” punch, “Your-” punch, “Fault!” Jungkook was out of control and only seeing red. Instead of blaming himself for this situation, he was blaming Taehyung for his own mistakes. The way he saw it is, if Taehyung wasn’t around, you wouldn’t have a place to stay, you wouldn’t have anyone to depend on someone else other than him, and most importantly you wouldn’t have someone protecting you other than him.

“JUNGKOOK, please let him go- AHH” You suddenly felt pain in your abdomen and you bent over clutching your bump.

“Y/N!” Jungkook let go of Taehyung rushed over to you and gently set you down on the ground. You were feeling immense pain and couldn’t even stand. Then you felt a warm liquid coming out of you and you were thinking of the worse. 

“Jungkook, the baby, something is going on with the baby.” Jungkook carried you bridal style and rushed towards his car and sped through traffic towards the hospital. It was all a blur for you. All you can do is pray in your head to hope that nothing bad happens to the baby.

Once at the hospital, you were rushed into the ER room and that was the last Jungkook ever saw you. It wasn’t until a nurse came up to him in a rush and asked him the question he thought he would never be asked, “ Sir, we need you to save on, your wife or the baby?” He was at a loss for words, he loved them both, but he had to make the ultimate sacrifice.

4 hours later, you woke up in a hospital room with Jungkook beside you holding your hand. Once Jungkook felt movement, he put his forehead against yours and started crying, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, but I had no choice.” You felt one of his hands pressed on your now flat belly and you knew what he meant. 

“Why? You could have saved it… WHY?” It has been a stressful day and the baby was the only thing that was going to give you happiness.

“I can’t lose you, I just can’t.” He started pressing kisses all over your face, “I know I made a mistake, but now I’m here to redeem myself. Please Y/N, don’t give up on us. Please….” He looked at you with his doe-like eyes that you love. They were still a little red from the amount of crying he did, but he didn’t take away the beauty that you adored.

“I need time to think. I just found out the love of my life was seeing another woman, tried killing my best friend, and now I lost my baby. I need to think Jungkook because everything is too much to process.” He laid his head on your shoulder and knew that everything that happened today took a toll on you.

“Okay, I’ll give you space, but I want you to know that I always love you. No matter what. I’ll fix everything. I promise.” He kissed your lips before he walked out of the room. 

Everything was just too much for you. You were hoping that the baby would be your own source of happiness, but now that it was gone, you lost all hope for even living. You wished that Jungkook would have saved the baby other than you, you would have finally been put out of your misery. You don’t think it is even possible to live a complacent life where your mind blames you for Jungkook cheating and the death of the baby. You wished that you could wake up and hope that everything was just a dream and you were still happily married with a healthy baby on the way. Why did everything have to change?

Jungkook kept his word and stayed away from you until the day of your discharge. He was happily pushing your wheelchair toward his car and kept blabbering about how he made some changes to the house and that you would love it. You kept quiet. You didn’t even want to go home. The house of how you wished everything would go back to how things were, but you have no choice with how fragile and weak you are. 

Once you and Jungkook arrived home, he directed you toward the front of the supposed-to-be baby room.

“I know you don’t want to go in, but I have a surprise for you that would make you forgive me for my past mistakes.” He opened the door and all you saw was darkness. You were confused and stepped in with Jungkook behind you. There was a terrible smell surrounding the whole room that made you gag. Once you both were in the room, Jungkook closed the door turned on the lights, and revealed a horrific sight that could make you throw up on the spot.

There in the middle of the room was Taehyung and the women from Jungkook’s workplace, tied up to a chair that is facing back against each other. They were both covered in blood and with cloth covering their mouth and their eyes. 

“Do you like it, honey? I decided to take care of our problem. Obviously, it's a work in progress, but I thought I could show you what I have done.” Your eyes widened and faced Jungkook who looked at you expecting praise or any positive words coming from you.

“JUNGKOOK! What is wrong with you?” You rushed towards Taehyung and uncovered his eyes, you shook him awake and you could tell he was barely even conscience. You see many punctured holes in his abdomen, and bruises that develop on his face. You can’t believe that your husband did this. 

“But honey, if it wasn’t for them we wouldn’t be in this situation. They are the reason we lost our baby. For that, they need to be gone, so we can go back to the way it was.” Jungkook was now confused. He believed he did the right thing. If it wasn’t for them two, they wouldn’t have lost their baby in the first place. 

“Jungkook, it was neither of their faults. It was YOU. If you hadn’t cheated on me, NONE of this would have happened. If YOU kept your dick in your pants, we could have gone back to normal. So stop blaming people for your mistakes!” You were done with all of this nonsense. 

“Y/N….” You turned back to Taehyung and started untying him, “It’s okay Tae, I’m right here, and I’ll drive you to the-” You heard a click behind you and you froze. You turned around and saw Jungkook pointing a pistol at Taehyung. 

“Step away Y/N. Or I finish him.” 

“Jungkook, you are losing it. Let him go!” You raised your hands up high.

“What are you talking about honey? I’ve always been like this, I’ve just never shown you this side of me.” He approached you with the gun still pointing at your boyfriend. Jungkook eyes weren’t the same doe-like eyes you used to love. They were blank as ever with barely any void of emotions. His stare at you was cold, not the same loving stare he always gave you.

“I should have known you were this crazy,” Taehyung spoke up and next thing you know, Jungkook shot him in the leg making him scream in pain. Blood started seeping out on the floor and you were close to passing out. 

“Please stop! You are hurting him.” You tried grabbing his arm but he had you pressed against his body preventing your arms from moving. 

“Listen, honey, you have two options. You obediently stay with me and pretend that nothing ever happened and we can start over while he lives or you stubbornly reject and I kill him right here right now. So what are you choosing?” He pressed the gun towards Taehyung’s head.

“Don’t listen to him, Y/N. He is bluffing.” Jungkook looked at Taehyung and brought the gun to the woman behind his chair and shot 2 rounds into the woman’s head. Then brought the gun back to Taehyung.

“Am I bluffing now?” You were at a loss of words, he just killed a person right in front of you and now is waiting for your response to do the same thing to your best friend.

“Jungkook, let’s talk about this-”

“1.”

“PLEASE! You are not thinking-”

“2.”

“OKAY! I’ll stay. Just please don’t kill him.” You were sobbing into his shoulder, stuck and weak in this moment. You had no choice.

“That’s what I thought.” He gently rubbed the gun against your head scaring you even more. Jungkook couldn’t be more proud to have you vulnerable in his arms. This is exactly what he wanted, scared, vulnerable, and helpless. Only reaching out to him, and no one else.

“It’s okay honey, I’ll fix everything just like how I said.” He kissed your dry lips and your forehead. This is your new reality. Being in the arms of a psycho killer that you call your husband.

[koyagifs]

𝒈𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒅𝒂𝒚

pairing: jimin x reader au: | idol genre: | fluff word count: 0.6k synopsis: when you got pregnant, jimin couldn't hold back. He shared the news with is hyungs, over joyed to be a father warning(s): -

You smiled widely at Jimin as he put the car in park, his hand resting gently on your stomach. Turning toward you, his eyes crinkled with a warm, affectionate smile.

"Are you ready?" he asked, lifting your hand to his lips and pressing a soft kiss against your knuckles.

You nodded, letting out a breathy laugh. "Of course. We've only been hiding this for, what, eight months now?"

Jimin chuckled, his fingers intertwining with yours. "To be fair, we’ve been busy, honey."

You hummed, tilting your head playfully. "Busy, sure—but not too busy to end up pregnant," you teased, grinning.

Jimin let out a laugh, shaking his head. "Touché."

Jimin had invited his members over to his place, mentioning that he had important news to share. They had bombarded him with questions over text, but he had only responded with a teasing, "You'll see when you get here."

You and Jimin had agreed to keep the pregnancy a secret for as long as possible, wanting to enjoy this special time without the scrutiny of the public eye. It had been difficult—hiding morning sickness, avoiding certain foods around the others, and brushing off suspicions when you’d suddenly disappear from group outings. But it was worth it. This was your moment, just yours and Jimin’s, and you wanted to hold onto it for as long as you could.

As the sound of the front door unlocking signaled the arrival of the first member, you exchanged a quick glance with Jimin. His fingers brushed over yours reassuringly before he whispered, "Ready?"

You nodded, squeezing his hand. "Let's do this."

Namjoon and Seokjin were the first to arrive, their voices filling the apartment as Jimin greeted them. You stayed hidden in the bathroom, heart pounding, as Jimin casually made an excuse for your absence.

"Where's Yn?" Seokjin asked, glancing around.

Jimin smiled smoothly. "Getting ready," he replied, keeping his tone light. "You know how she is—always making an entrance."

One by one, the rest of the members arrived, laughter and conversation blending together in the living room. You could hear Taehyung teasing Jimin about the mystery announcement, Jungkook betting it was a new solo project, and Hoseok insisting it had to be something bigger.

Your hands trembled slightly as you rested them over your belly. This is it.

Taking a deep breath, you finally stepped out, making your way toward the living room. The moment their eyes landed on you—Jimin’s soft smile growing as he reached for your hand—you knew it was time.

"Surprise," you said, voice light yet full of emotion, as you placed Jimin’s hand over your growing belly.

Seokjin was the first to react, his eyes widening before he jumped up from his seat and rushed toward you. "Are you serious?!" he nearly shouted, his excitement contagious as he gently reached for your hands.

His sudden movement snapped everyone else out of their trance.

"No way!" Taehyung gasped, his face lighting up with pure joy.

"You're not messing with us, right?" Jungkook asked, eyes bouncing between you and Jimin.

As soon as you nodded, confirming the news, the room erupted into a chorus of cheers and congratulations. Namjoon pulled Jimin into a proud hug, clapping his back, while Hoseok nearly tackled you with an embrace, his excitement radiating through the room.

Yoongi, though quieter, smiled warmly as he reached out, resting a hand on Jimin’s shoulder. "You're gonna be a great dad," he said simply, and the weight of those words made Jimin’s heart swell.

Jimin stood by your side, watching his members shower you with love and support, and in that moment, he felt like the luckiest man alive. His heart brimmed with pride, his love for you overflowing as he squeezed your hand.

This was the beginning of something beautiful, and he couldn’t wait for the journey ahead.

[chimcess]

⮞ Chapter One: Homecoming Pairing: Jungkook x Reader Other Tags: Hockey Player!Jungkook, Figure Skater!Reader, Hockey Player!Taehyung, Hockey Player!Jimin, Hockey Player!Namjoon, Hockey Player!Hoseok, Figure Skater!Jin, Coach!Yoongi Genre: Hockey!AU, Figure Skating!AU, Olympic!AU, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Self-Discovery, Fluff, Angst, Eventual Smut, Slow Burn Word Count: 19.1k+ Summary: Y/N Y/L/N has always been destined for greatness as a competitive figure skater, her dreams of the Olympics sparkling like the ice beneath her blades. But when a devastating injury sidelines her, those dreams seem to melt away. Just when she feels lost, she unexpectedly meets Jeon Jungkook, a talented NHL hockey player. Warnings: Reader is injured and still using crutches, meet-cute reference to an unhealthy relationship with mom, absent father, parental issues, pining, low self-esteem, reader has anxiety, reader is very stressed out, honestly my girl is just exhausted, very pushy neighbors (but we love them for it), Taehyung is adopted, this is really just an introduction to everyone so not many warnings here... A/N: Happy New Year! Let's kick things off with a new massive series. This one will touch on very heavy topics such as toxic parents, mental health issues, and non-consensual touching. Please proceed with caution. New Chapters every month!

masterlist || next

I never used to think about what came next. Why would I? It felt pointless, like trying to guess the ending of a book while you were still tangled in the messy, middle chapters. Life just kept happening—fast, breathless, one page after another. And sometimes, if you were lucky, you got close to something that felt like a dream. So close you could almost taste it. But right when you reached for it? That’s when life reminded you—books close, lights go out, and suddenly, you’re right back where you started.

Normal? I wouldn’t know normal if it walked up and smacked me in the face. Normal was for people who wore stiff blazers and drank bad office coffee. My mornings started in the dark—lacing up my skates, the air so cold it bit at my skin. Stretch until it hurt. Practice until the moves weren’t moves anymore, just instinct. The rink smelled like sweat and frost and that sharp, unmistakable scent of wanting something too much. It clung to me.

That was my life. Until it wasn’t.

I don’t even remember learning how to skate. I just always had. The ice was the one place that made sense, the only place where my body and my brain felt like they belonged to the same person. My mom, Emily, saw it first. That spark in me. And once she saw it, she never let go. She didn’t just support me—she pushed. Hard. Like a storm rolling in, relentless and all-consuming. Maybe to her, that’s what love looked like.

People whispered about her. Said she was chasing her own lost dreams through me. Maybe she was. But I never resented her for it. Her ambition was like a fire—sometimes too hot, sometimes too much. But it kept me warm. Even when it burned.

She’d been a skater once, too. Until life happened. Until she got pregnant with me, married my dad, Jim, and let go of whatever dreams she had left. Some people move on. She never did. She carried that regret around like a weight, year after year, until all she had left was me. And the ice. I was her second chance.

She met Jim when she was still young and restless, and he was passing through town for police training. They fell in love, or at least, something close enough to it. Then I came along. A courthouse wedding, a move, a slow unraveling. Eventually, Emily and I left for Colorado—chasing the ice, chasing the dream. Jim stayed in Olympia, sinking into his routine until it swallowed him whole. I became the thing in between, stretched between my dad’s steady, distant world and my mom’s all-or-nothing drive.

Michigan wasn’t home anymore. Hadn’t been for years. But here I was.

The intercom crackled to life, yanking me out of my head.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain. We’re beginning our descent into Detroit, where it’s currently five-eighteen p.m. and a frigid fifteen degrees Fahrenheit. Please secure your belongings.”

Fifteen degrees. Typical Michigan.

I stared out the window, my knee aching, a bitter little reminder. I was supposed to meet Dr. Jeon on Monday. People swore he was the best. But I already knew it didn’t matter. The moment my skate caught that rough patch of ice, when my body twisted and my world turned upside down—I knew.

It was over.

I could still see it, clear as a photograph: the rink bathed in pale afternoon light, Swan Lake drifting through the air. I wasn’t even competing, just skating for the sake of skating. My mom and my coach sat in the stands, talking about my next routine. I picked up speed, heading into a fan spiral—when it happened. My blade caught. My leg gave out. I went down hard.

The plane’s landing gear hit the tarmac with a screech, shaking the memory loose. My heart pounded. I gripped the armrest, swallowing against the lump in my throat.

Passengers stood, jostling for overhead bags, but I stayed put. No point in rushing. My crutches were cold in my hands, awkward, unfamiliar. A few months ago, I could glide across the ice like I belonged there. And now? Now I could barely walk through an airport without feeling like I might tip over.

At baggage claim, I stared at the conveyor belt, watching suitcases circle like they had all the time in the world. My hands were full. My leg was useless.

"You need a hand?"

The voice came out of nowhere. I flinched, turning too fast, and there he was—tall, brown-eyed, and looking at me like he could see straight through all my carefully constructed defenses. Before I could respond, someone bumped into me, and my crutch slipped from my grip, clattering against the floor.

I wobbled, reaching out for something—anything—to steady myself. But he was faster. His hands caught my arms, firm but gentle, like he’d done this before. Like he knew exactly how to keep someone from falling.

For a second, the world around us—the airport, the noise, the blur of people—just stopped.

"You okay?" His voice was warm, steady, like it belonged to someone who never panicked.

I nodded quickly, my face heating. "Yeah. Fine." A lie, probably. But what else was I supposed to say? No, actually, I’m currently living my worst nightmare, thanks for asking?

He let go slowly, like he was making sure I wouldn’t tip over again, and bent down to grab my crutch. When he handed it back, his eyes lingered—not with pity, but something else. Something softer.

"Thanks," I muttered, gripping the crutch tighter than necessary.

He smiled—easy, unbothered. "No problem." But there was something behind it, like maybe he had more to say.

The airport rushed back to life around us. People zigzagging past, voices bouncing off the high ceilings, the endless hum of somewhere-to-be energy. But for just a moment, it still felt like we were in a separate, quieter place.

He glanced at the mess of luggage by my feet. "Need help with your bags?"

My pride answered before logic could. "I’ve got it."

Which was a bold thing to say, considering I clearly did not have it. My knee throbbed, like it was rolling its metaphorical eyes at me.

But he didn’t argue. Just shrugged, like it was all the same to him. "Alright. But it’s no trouble if you change your mind."

I shifted my weight, felt the sharp twinge, and sighed. "Okay, yeah. I could use some help."

The words tasted weird in my mouth. He didn’t seem to notice. He just grabbed my suitcase like it weighed nothing, balancing my smaller bag on top.

"Someone picking you up?" he asked as we made our way toward the sliding glass doors, where the cold Michigan air lurked like a villain in a horror movie.

"Nope. Just grabbing a cab," I said, weaving through the crowd. But I was aware of him next to me, solid and steady, like an anchor I hadn’t realized I needed.

"I’ve got my car in the overnight lot," he said, so casually it almost sounded like a throwaway offer. "I could give you a ride."

I hesitated. Too fast. "No, it’s okay," I said, maybe a little too quick, a little too sharp.

Something flickered across his face—disappointment? Or was I just imagining it?

We stepped outside, and the cold hit. Hard. I sucked in a sharp breath, my fingers instantly regretting every life choice that led to me not bringing gloves.

He noticed. His mouth twitched into a knowing smile. "Forgot what Michigan feels like in January?"

"Yeah," I muttered, hugging my coat closer. "Something like that."

I should be used to it. I grew up on ice, for God’s sake. But this cold felt different. It wasn’t just outside—it was creeping in, settling deep, gnawing at something raw.

"So, where were you before this?" he asked, breath curling into the air like smoke.

"Nevada. Before that, Colorado. We moved around a lot." I didn’t even know why I was telling him this. I didn’t even know him.

"We?" He raised an eyebrow, like he already knew the answer but wanted me to say it anyway.

"Me and my mom," I said, my voice quieter now. "She’s not really the ‘stay in one place’ type."

He nodded, like that made perfect sense. "A modern-day nomad. Sounds... exhausting."

I let out a small laugh, more reflex than anything. "Yeah. It can be."

And maybe it was just the exhaustion, or the cold, or the fact that he felt easy to talk to, but this whole conversation was starting to feel less strange. Less like a fleeting airport moment and more like something solid.

"You staying here for a while?" he asked, his dark eyes locking with mine, the cold suddenly not as noticeable.

"For the foreseeable future," I said, surprising myself with how easily it came out.

"Good to know." His voice softened, like it was some kind of inside joke I didn’t know we were sharing yet. And that crooked smile? Yeah. Dangerous.

My pulse did something stupid.

What was I even doing? Standing here, flirting with a stranger in the dead of winter? This wasn’t real life—this was the kind of thing that only happened in bad rom-coms and half-formed daydreams. But with him, it felt real. Too real.

"Maybe I’ll see you around," he said, running a hand through his hair, which—of course—fell back into place in that perfectly messy, I-don’t-care-but-I-do way.

"Yeah, maybe," I said, even though I wasn’t sure I believed it.

"You live nearby?"

I should already be in a cab. I should be out of this cold, heading toward whatever was left of my life. But instead, I was still standing here, asking questions I had no business asking.

"Detroit," he said, his breath hanging in the air like something unfinished.

"Me too," I blurted out. "Just moved there, actually."

"Downtown?" He asked it like my answer mattered more than it should.

"Royal Oak," I said. "The old houses there... they’re beautiful."

"They are," he agreed, and there was something in the way he said it, like he was noticing things about me I didn’t even realize I was showing. His gaze flicked from my eyes to my lips, and for a second, the space between us felt smaller, thinner, like something was about to snap.

Then the wind did it for us, slicing between us like a blade.

"Welcome to Michigan," he said, laughing, his voice warm against the cold.

And then, before I could react, before I could process anything, he reached down and took my bare hands in his.

His hands were warm. Too warm. Like touching them had flipped some hidden switch inside me.

I felt it. Everywhere.

For a second, I swore the ground shifted.

"We should get you a cab," he said, glancing down at my frozen fingers, his expression softer now. "You’re not exactly dressed for this weather."

"Yeah, I probably should’ve planned better," I admitted with a laugh, but I was barely paying attention to the cold anymore. Just the heat from his hands, the way they made everything else feel less cold.

He waved down a cab like he’d done it a hundred times before, easy and effortless. I stood there, watching as he loaded my bags into the trunk, every movement feeling like a countdown. And then, when he pulled open the door for me, I just... stood there.

At the edge of the moment. Caught between stepping forward and holding still. Between leaving and staying.

“Thanks for the help,” I said, looking up at him, my heart knocking against my ribs.

“Jungkook,” he said, soft, like he was handing me something delicate. His smile was still there, tugging at the corner of his mouth like he wasn’t ready to let it go just yet. “I’m Jungkook.”

“Y/N,” I replied, my own name slipping out so easily, like it had been waiting to be said here, in this exact moment, in this freezing air between us.

He repeated it—slowly, like he was trying it on. Like it was something worth holding in his mouth for a second longer. “Y/N,” he said again, quieter this time. And then he leaned in, just a little, like he was about to tell me a secret.

And suddenly, everything else—the cold, the noise, the rush of people around us—blurred out. It was just him, standing too close, that crooked grin making me wonder if maybe—just maybe—this wasn’t the end of whatever this was.

“Yeah, Jungkook?” I asked, my breath hitching, anticipation curling in my stomach.

“My friends and I... we go to this bar on Grand most Tuesdays. Bronx?” He said it like a casual suggestion, but it wasn’t casual. It was a bridge. A next step. “Maybe I’ll see you there sometime?”

A thrill shot through me—quick and unexpected. He wanted to see me again.

“Yeah,” I stammered, trying to sound normal, trying to sound like my pulse wasn’t suddenly in my throat. “I could swing by. Once I’m settled in.”

“Great.” His whole face lit up, and it was like watching a door crack open, just enough to glimpse something softer behind it. "I’ll see you around then, Y/N."

And just like that, he stepped back, shut the door behind me, and the moment ended.

The cab pulled away, and I turned, craning for one last look. He was still standing there, hands stuffed into his coat pockets, watching me go. When he caught my gaze, he waved, easy and casual, like this whole thing hadn’t just knocked the wind out of me. I lifted my hand in return, but my chest was still tight, my heart still racing.

I slumped back against the seat, pressing my forehead to the cold window, hoping the chill would slow my thoughts down. Because now that I was alone, the doubts started creeping in. The what-ifs.

Would I actually show up at Bronx? Or would I do what I always did—let the moment fade, tell myself it wasn’t real, convince myself it was just a weird, fleeting connection that didn’t actually mean anything?

But then I thought about him. About that lopsided smile. The way he said my name like it was something worth remembering. And for the first time in a long time, I let myself wonder...

What if?

It was a little past seven when the cab finally rolled to a stop in front of my new apartment building. The sky had darkened into that deep, bruised purple, the kind that makes the world feel just a little heavier. The cold hit me full force as I climbed out, my crutches clattering against the pavement.

I was so tired. That kind of exhaustion that settles into your bones, heavy and unshakable.

The doorman noticed immediately—a grizzled guy with kind eyes and the weary patience of someone who had seen a lot of people start over. He moved toward me with the kind of practiced ease that made it clear he had done this before. Watched people show up with too many bags and too many hopes. Watched them leave, sometimes with less of both.

Without a word, he took my luggage, leading me toward the elevator like it was second nature.

Apartment 311 smelled like fresh paint and nothing else. The kind of emptiness that didn’t just sit in the air—it echoed. My footsteps bounced off the bare walls, and for a second, it felt like I was in a storage unit, not a home. No couch. No bed. Just a hollow space waiting to be filled with something real.

I let out a long breath. The cold inside the apartment was different from the cold outside—sharper, lonelier. Like even the air hadn’t settled in yet.

I pulled out my phone and ordered a pizza. Pepperoni and mushrooms, with a side of breadsticks. It felt like a stupidly normal thing to do, like maybe if I just ordered dinner, it would trick my brain into thinking everything was fine. That this wasn’t weird. That I wasn’t standing in the middle of an empty apartment with nothing but a suitcase and a sinking feeling in my stomach.

By the time I hung up, the ache in my chest had settled in for the night. This was real. No backing out now.

I called Emily.

Her voice was a mix of relief and tension, like she wanted to be happy I’d made it but also wanted to remind me that I had things to do. That I had to get back to training. That I couldn’t just pause. But I was pausing. I was standing in an apartment with no furniture, staring at the ceiling like it might have answers. And I just... couldn’t deal with it right now.

After a few strained minutes, I made an excuse and hung up. The silence rushed back in, filling the space like water, drowning out everything else.

I wandered through the empty rooms, my fingers grazing the white walls. The place felt sterile, like a waiting room for a life I hadn’t started living yet. Outside, the city buzzed—car horns, laughter, people moving through their lives like they knew exactly where they were going. I pressed my forehead to the window, watching them pass. Families. Students. Dog walkers. Everyone seemed to belong to something. To someone.

And me? I felt like a glitch in the system. Like I’d been dropped into the wrong life by accident.

Jungkook’s face flashed in my mind. The way he’d said my name, like it meant something. Like maybe I wasn’t as lost as I felt. I let myself picture it—walking into Bronx on a Tuesday night, catching sight of that crooked grin. It was just a thought, a little flicker of something warm. But I wasn’t ready to let it go just yet.

The apartment was still too empty, but at least tomorrow there’d be furniture. A couch. Shelves. A coffee table, maybe. The kind of things that made a place feel real.

But the real gem of the apartment wasn’t the kitchen or the big windows. It was the alcove by the entrance—a tiny nook with a built-in window seat, framed by bookshelves. A little space that felt hidden from the rest of the world. I could already imagine curling up there on winter nights, listening to the snow tap against the glass. And for the first time since I got here, I could almost picture it—this place turning into something more than just four walls and an address.

A knock at the door snapped me out of it.

I hobbled over, stomach growling. Pizza. Finally.

But when I pulled open the door, it wasn’t the delivery guy.

It was a girl. Petite, but somehow larger than life, dressed in a black knit sweater dress and a sequined mini that shimmered in the dim hallway light. Her hair was buzzed short, dark and soft-looking, and she had cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass. But it was her eyes that stopped me—deep brown, warm, familiar.

They reminded me of him.

“Hey!” she chirped, like we were old friends. “I’m Mina. I live in 312. The pizza guy accidentally brought your order to us, so I figured I’d bring it over and say hi.”

I blinked at her. Processing.

“Thanks,” I said finally, shifting on my crutches. “Would you mind setting it in the kitchen? I’m a little... restricted.”

“Of course!” Mina breezed past me like she’d lived here her whole life, her boots clicking against the hardwood. She set the pizza down and turned back, eyes bright with curiosity. “So... what happened?” She gestured at the crutches.

“Sports injury,” I said, keeping it vague. It wasn’t a lie, exactly. Just not the whole truth.

Mina nodded like that was good enough. “Well, I hope you’re healing okay. Must be rough, moving in while dealing with all that.”

“Yeah,” I said, relieved when she didn’t press. “Thanks again for bringing the pizza.”

“No problem! Consider it a ‘Welcome to the Building’ gift.” She grinned, then suddenly froze, her eyes going wide.

“Wait... you don’t have any furniture, do you?”

I sighed. “I’ll figure something out. It’s just one night.”

Mina looked personally offended by this information. Then, before I could stop her, she scooped up the pizza box and waltzed right back out the door.

I just stood there. Staring. Processing.

Did she really just take my dinner?

With a groan, I grabbed my bag and pulled out fleece pants, a tank top, and my track jacket. Changed. Gathered up my toothbrush, phone, and keys. Then, still half-stunned, I hobbled down the hall to apartment 312.

I knocked, my heart pounding for no good reason.

The door creaked open, but it wasn’t Mina standing there.

It was a tall blonde woman—striking in that effortless kind of way, like she had never tripped over a curb in her life. She had long, golden hair that fell like silk, sharp dark eyebrows, and deep brown eyes that were almost black. Where Mina crackled with chaotic energy, this woman felt like still water. Collected. Unshakable. The kind of person who didn’t need to prove anything to anyone.

“Hey, come on in,” she said, her voice low and a little raspy. “Mina said you’d be staying with us tonight.”

“Thanks,” I muttered, stepping inside, feeling weirdly self-conscious. “I don’t want to impose—”

“Nonsense,” she said, waving a hand like my words were actual garbage. “Once Mina decides something, there’s no point arguing. You might as well accept your fate.”

Before I could respond, Mina barreled into the room, now in yoga pants and a t-shirt that looked like it had been washed a thousand times.

“I knew you’d come!” she declared, triumphant.

“Well, you didn’t give me much of a choice,” I said, trying for casual, even though my chest still felt tight. “You did steal my dinner.”

“See? It worked!” Mina grinned, entirely unrepentant. “Trust me, this is way better than eating alone in an empty apartment. You’re smart for coming over.” She paused, eyes widening like she had just remembered something vital. “Oh my God, I didn’t even ask your name. I get so carried away sometimes.”

“Y/N,” I said. “Y/L/N.”

“Welcome, Y/N,” the blonde said, leading me toward the kitchen. “I’m Leera, but you can call me Lucy if you want. And don’t worry—you’ll get used to Mina’s... enthusiasm.”

The apartment was warm and lived-in, a contrast to my own echoing space. I caught sight of the pizza box Mina had stolen—but there were three more stacked on the counter, the air thick with the smell of melted cheese and garlic.

“What’s with all the pizza?” I asked, glancing between them.

“We ordered some too,” Mina said, flipping open a box like a game show host revealing a grand prize. “They just happened to show up at the same time. Fate, obviously.”

Lucy pulled my bottle of Diet Coke out of the fridge and held it up. “Want some ice?” she asked, like she already knew the answer.

“Yeah,” I said. And just like that, I felt some of the tension in my shoulders ease.

It didn’t take long to figure out that Mina and Lucy were more than just roommates. Mina was an event planner—weddings, galas, parties—which made so much sense. Her whole vibe was confetti and last-minute ideas and carrying three coffees at once. Her family was originally from Wisconsin, though her great-grandparents had immigrated from Korea. Lucy, on the other hand, was her exact opposite. She worked in classic car restoration, which honestly stunned me. She had the kind of delicate, elegant energy that made me assume she spent her time doing something refined, like designing couture dresses or sipping espresso in a minimalist art studio. But no, she rebuilt engines. She smelled like vanilla and motor oil.

“Most people don’t believe me when I tell them,” she said, smirking as she popped open a can of sparkling water. “But I love it. It’s in my blood.”

Mina and Lucy weren’t just best friends—they were family, their lives so tightly woven together it was hard to tell where one story ended and the other began. Mina was engaged to Lucy’s brother, and Lucy was dating one of Mina’s. It was the kind of connection that felt inevitable, like the universe had put them in the same orbit on purpose. Every time Mina mentioned her fiancé, Jimin, or Lucy talked about her boyfriend, Taehyung, their expressions softened, like even thinking about them made the world a little warmer.

And somehow, I was here too. Sitting at their kitchen island, laughing, eating stolen pizza like I belonged.

By the time I glanced at the clock, it was past eleven.

Somehow, what was supposed to be a couple of awkward hours had turned into something else entirely—something easy. Something that felt suspiciously like belonging.

“Get used to late nights,” Lucy teased, nudging me with her elbow. “Being our friend means you have to be a night owl.”

Friends?

I wasn’t sure the last time I’d used it to describe myself. Maybe never.

Growing up, there wasn’t space for friends. Emily and my coaches made sure of that. My life had been structured and scheduled within an inch of its existence—early mornings, late nights, a constant push toward something bigger, something better. And at some point, I had started pulling away from people before they had the chance to do it first.

But Mina and Lucy? They weren’t waiting for me to prove anything. They weren’t measuring my worth by what I’d achieved.

They just saw me.

And that was almost scarier than being alone.

“So, Y/N,” Mina said, shattering the comfortable silence. “What’s the plan for tomorrow?”

“Big day,” I admitted, exhaustion creeping in. “My furniture’s arriving, plus all my stuff from Nevada. I need to grab groceries. Thought about picking out paint colors, but that might be too ambitious.”

Mina’s face lit up like I’d just invited her to an amusement park. “Need help? I’m free tomorrow. And I’m ridiculously efficient. We’ll knock it all out in no time.” She gestured toward my crutches with a cheeky grin. “Especially since you’re a little limited.”

I hesitated. I wasn’t used to accepting help. But Mina had this way of making it seem like it would be more work to say no.

“That would be great,” I admitted. “Thanks.”

Lucy shot me a knowing look from where she stood by the sink. “Just don’t let her bulldoze you. Once she gets going, she’s unstoppable. Your place will look like a West Elm catalog before you even blink.”

Mina gasped, pressing a hand to her chest. “I’m just trying to help her create a cozy space. Is that so wrong?”

“I’m just giving her fair warning,” Lucy said, eyes glinting. “You’re in for the full Mina experience.”

I yawned before I could stop myself. Mina noticed immediately.

“Go freshen up,” she said, waving me toward the bathroom. “I’ll set up the couch for you.”

I shuffled off, grateful for the moment alone. As I brushed my teeth and splashed cool water on my face, I felt the weight of the night settle in. When I returned, the couch had been transformed into a nest of blankets and pillows—so much cozier than the cold, empty apartment I’d left behind.

“Thanks, guys,” I said, sinking into my makeshift bed. “This is way better than crashing on a pile of sweatshirts.”

Lucy grinned as she wiped her hands on a dishtowel. “I’ll swing by around four tomorrow, just in time to rescue you from Mina’s overzealous decorating spree.”

“I’ll need it,” I said, throwing Mina a smirk.

Mina gasped, deeply offended. “You’ll love every second of it. Actually, I’ll call the guys and see if they can help with the heavy lifting this weekend. They’ve got a game in Anaheim on Friday, but they should be free after that.”

“Game?” I asked, frowning.

Mina blinked. “Oh. Yeah. Jimin, Taehyung, and my other brother—they play for the Michigan Red Wings.”

The name rang a bell, but faintly. Like a half-remembered dream.

“Should I know what that means?”

Lucy smirked. “NHL, Y/N. They’re professional hockey players.”

“Oh,” I said. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but that wasn’t it. Hockey wasn’t really on my radar. The only time I even thought about it was when Emily complained about hockey players hogging ice time.

“We’ll have to take you to a game,” Mina said, already vibrating with excitement. “They’re mid-season, and the team’s so good right now.”

“Mina, you say that every year,” Lucy said, rolling her eyes.

Mina grinned. “Because every year, it’s true! Even if they weren’t good, it’s still fun. The speed, the energy…” She trailed off, lost in her own little hockey world.

I laughed, but something about all of this—this easy, effortless warmth—felt almost too good to be real. Like I’d borrowed someone else’s life for the night.

“Mina,” I said, nudging her. “You do realize two of those players are your brothers, right?”

She made a face. “Obviously, Y/N. I’m not checking them out. But let’s be real—they’re objectively attractive. And if you happen to take an interest, there’s plenty of other man candy on the team.”

Lucy chuckled. “She’s not wrong. Her brothers are hot. Not that I’m looking—Taehyung is more than enough—but Jungkook? Yeah, he’s got the looks.”

Jungkook.

The name hit me like a bucket of ice water.

Could it be my Jungkook? 

My brain raced back to the airport. The luggage, the easy smile, the way he had helped me like it was nothing. That Jungkook had just been… a random act of kindness. A nice stranger.

…Right?

I felt ridiculous for even thinking it. For even considering the possibility.

My Jungkook?

We’d spoken for maybe fifteen minutes, and I was already putting a claim on him. Maybe I was going crazy.

“He hasn’t dated anyone since he and Sky broke up last year,” Leera said casually, like she was commenting on the weather. “Kind of a waste. A guy like that shouldn’t stay single for long.”

Mina nodded, but there was something a little sharper in the set of her jaw. “Jungkook’s not the type to jump from girl to girl. He’s waiting for the right one, and when he finds her, he’ll know.”

Leera smirked. “Well, that’s not stopping half of Detroit. Pretty sure every girl in the city knows he’s single.”

Mina groaned, flopping back against the couch cushions. “Don’t even get me started on the rink rats. If I have to witness one more girl trying to sneak into the locker room, I might actually lose my mind.”

I laughed, sinking deeper into my pile of pillows. “Noted. I’ll make sure to stay on your good side.”

Mina pointed at me, all faux-seriousness. “Good call.” Then, with a sigh, she added, “I just hate it. Those girls don’t care about hockey—they don’t even like hockey. They just want the bragging rights.”

I nodded, watching the way her protectiveness settled over her like armor. She wasn’t just defending Jungkook. She was looking out for all of them. Her brothers, her family.

“Well,” I said, meaning it, “they’re lucky to have you watching their backs.”

Mina’s lips quirked up like she wanted to argue, but instead, she just said, “Goodnight, Y/N.” She was already halfway down the hall when she called over her shoulder, “Yell if you need anything.”

Leera lingered, watching me for a beat longer. “You good?”

“Yeah,” I said, exhaling, feeling the weight of the day settle over me in the best way. “Thanks again. I didn’t realize how much I needed this.”

“Don’t mention it.” Leera’s voice was soft, knowing. “I’m up early for work, so sorry if I wake you.”

I waved her off. “I’m used to early mornings.” Too many years of predawn practices had made sure of that.

Leera just nodded, still smiling, before disappearing down the hall.

I sank deeper into the blankets, warmth curling around me like a secret. My body felt heavy, like it had finally gotten permission to stop holding itself together. My eyes fluttered shut, and I didn’t even hear Leera’s door close.

That night, I dreamt of chocolate-brown eyes and tousled black hair.

I woke up the same way I had for the past eight weeks—with my knee throbbing like it had a personal vendetta against me.

I didn’t even have to open my eyes to know today was going to suck. The dull ache had settled in overnight, but now, thanks to yesterday’s cramped plane ride, it had sharpened into something meaner. I pulled my leg toward my chest, stretching carefully, trying to loosen the stiffness. Moving boxes and setting up furniture? Yeah, that was going to be so much fun. Looked like the painkillers would have to make an appearance.

After a few more stretches, the ache dulled to something that felt less like a knife and more like a bruise, and I finally cracked my eyes open. The room was still wrapped in that early-morning darkness, the kind that sits heavy over Michigan in the winter, refusing to budge. I reached for my phone. 5:48 A.M. The apartment was silent except for the soft hum of the radiator trying—and failing—to make the place feel less like an icebox.

I wasn’t going back to sleep, but I also didn’t feel like getting up yet. So I stayed where I was, curled up on Mina’s obnoxiously comfortable couch, staring at the ceiling.

Yesterday came back in pieces. Mina and Leera. The unexpected invitation. And, of course, Jungkook.

Just thinking about him sent an embarrassing little jolt through me, which was so stupid. It wasn’t like I’d never seen an attractive guy before. But Jungkook wasn’t just attractive. He was the kind of good-looking that made you blink twice. The kind that made your brain short-circuit for a second while you tried to process if someone could actually look like that.

Okay. Fine. So he was hot. That didn’t mean anything. I’d talked to him for maybe fifteen minutes. That wasn’t life-changing. That wasn’t even significant.

Except… my body had noticed him in a way it never really noticed anyone. Heart pounding. Skin tingling. That stupid, unsteady feeling like I’d just stepped onto a rink without my skates tied properly. That was significant.

I sighed, scrubbing a hand over my face. It didn’t matter. Even if, by some ridiculous stretch of the imagination, Jungkook was interested, what would I even do about it? Relationships, dating, flirting—those were all foreign languages to me. My parents had been a masterclass in what not to do. My dad stayed, but only in the financial sense. And Emily? Her version of love came with conditions. Perform well, and you got a rare “good job.” Fail, and… well.

I didn’t know how to do affection. It had always felt awkward, like a sweater that didn’t quite fit. Hugs? Hand-holding? Kissing? Yeah, no. Just thinking about it made my pulse do something weird.

I needed to stop. My life wasn’t some tragic sob story. So my childhood had more training schedules than sleepovers—big deal. I had what I needed. Time to move on.

With a groan, I pushed myself upright, my knee protesting the movement. Enough self-pity. Caffeine. I needed caffeine.

The apartment was still dark and silent as I shuffled into the kitchen. I hesitated before opening any cabinets—rummaging through someone else’s stuff before sunrise felt like a weird level of intrusive—so I settled for finishing off the last of my soda from last night. The cold fizz helped a little, at least enough to push through the haze of sleep deprivation.

The microwave clock blinked 6:04 A.M. Mina didn’t seem like the early riser type. No point in waiting around. I could head back to my place, shower, stretch like the doctor said to, and get my life somewhat together.

By 8:30, I felt almost human again. The stretches had helped, the painkillers had kicked in, and I’d even managed to scribble out a to-do list. Groceries. Figuring out where my limited furniture should go. Maybe pretending I had any idea how to decorate an apartment.

Mina knocked just as I was finishing up, looking far too awake for this hour and shoving a cup of coffee into my hands like a peace offering. “Morning! Ready for some fun?”

I took the coffee, eyeing her suspiciously. “You’re a morning person, aren’t you?”

She grinned. “I’m an all-the-time person. You’ll get used to it. So, what’s the plan?”

“The furniture’s supposed to be here at nine.” I handed her my list. “After that, I figured we could set things up, then go grab the essentials.”

Mina scanned the list and nodded. “Super Target it is. We’ll knock this out fast.”

While we waited, she plopped onto the floor with a notebook and started sketching out a floor plan—like, a legitimate floor plan—complete with little boxes for furniture and arrows for “optimal flow.” She rattled on about color schemes and accent pieces like we were designing a magazine spread.

I just nodded along, knowing I was going to have to veto at least half of it. The eight matching throw pillows? Absolutely not.

When the movers showed up, Mina shifted into full drill-sergeant mode, directing the poor guys with a terrifying level of efficiency. The second they left, another truck pulled up with my boxes from Nevada.

For once, something in my life was actually going smoothly.

Mina eyed my stack of boxes like she was waiting for the rest of them to show up.

“That’s it?” she asked, incredulous.

“Yep. I travel light.”

She frowned, like the concept physically pained her. “Y/N, half of these are labeled Books. How do you not have more stuff?”

I shrugged. “Less stuff, less hassle.”

Mina let out the kind of sigh that people reserved for lost causes. “Minimalist doesn’t even begin to cover it. Taehyung’s old dorm room had more personality than this place.”

I smirked. “I can see the wheels turning in your head. But let’s focus on getting toilet paper first before we start worrying about ‘spicing up’ my apartment.”

“Fine,” she huffed, crossing her arms. “But we will revisit this. I’m not letting you live in a place that looks like a bachelor pad.”

“You’ve known me for fifteen hours,” I pointed out.

“And just imagine what it’ll be like in a couple of weeks,” she grinned wickedly. “I won’t hold back then.”

“This is you holding back?” I teased. “You’re kind of terrifying.”

“In the best way,” she said, completely unfazed. “Now, ready to hit the store?”

“Let’s go,” I said, grabbing my list. “But I don’t have my car yet—it’s still at the dealership.”

“Good thing I’m your chauffeur for the day!” she declared, already heading for the door with the kind of enthusiasm that made me feel like I was being drafted into something. I sighed, but I couldn’t help smiling as I followed her. Life with Mina, I was quickly learning, was never going to be boring.

“No worries,” she added, whipping out her phone with the speed of someone who always had a plan. “I’ll call Jimin and see if we can borrow his truck.”

A quick call later, we were off—Mina behind the wheel of her bright yellow Porsche, driving like she had a personal vendetta against speed limits. The engine roared as she weaved in and out of traffic with terrifying precision. I gripped the door handle, silently promising to live a better life if we made it out of this drive alive.

By the time we pulled up to Jimin’s place—miraculously in one piece—I had officially retired from being a passenger in Mina’s car. We swapped vehicles, and before I knew it, we were barrelling down the road in Jimin’s truck, off to tackle what would soon become the longest shopping trip of my life.

Two hours later, I had come to two conclusions:

One—I would never, under any circumstances, voluntarily shop with Mina again.

Two—I actually liked her. A lot.

She was everything I wasn’t—loud where I was quiet, confident where I hesitated, effortlessly stylish while I stuck to jeans and sneakers. And yet, somehow, she just clicked with me. Maybe it was her relentless energy, or maybe it was because she bulldozed past the walls I hadn’t even realized I’d built.

As we wheeled our overloaded carts to the truck, I glanced at my phone. Just past noon, and I was already exhausted.

“I’m telling you, Y/N,” Mina said, tossing bags into the truck bed like she was throwing confetti, “those shirts were a necessity. When you find one that looks that good, you have to buy it in every color.”

I smirked, shaking my head. Somewhere between arguing over which brand of dish soap smelled less like a hospital and Mina sneakily adding things to the cart, I had realized something horrifying.

Mina could talk me into just about anything.

And there it was—three identical Converse button-ups in different colors. Cute? Yes. Necessary? Not even a little.

“I’m not sure how you did it,” I said, giving her a sideways look, “but somehow, you got me to buy three of the same shirt. You’re dangerous.”

Mina grinned, completely unapologetic. “You’ll thank me later when you’re rocking those shirts.”

I sighed, shaking my head in mock defeat. “Fine. The shirts are cute. But can we find food now? The gimp needs to recharge.”

Mina laughed, slamming the tailgate shut. “How do you feel about Korean? There’s a great place on the way back.”

“Perfect,” I said, already dreaming about a meal that didn’t involve protein bars or sad, airport vending machine snacks.

On the drive back, Mina launched into a full-on campaign about how we needed to recruit Jimin to help paint my apartment. She was convinced the walls needed a fresh coat before anything else could happen.

I argued. She countered. I pouted.

She finally caved. Victory.

For now.

Once we got back, we hauled everything inside, dumping the grocery bags onto the kitchen counter in a completely unorganized mess. We shoved the cold stuff into the fridge in a way that would probably horrify any reasonable adult, then collapsed onto the couch with greasy containers of food.

As I hobbled over with my takeout, my crutches snagged on the coffee table, making me stumble.

Not once.

Not twice.

Three times.

Each time, Mina gave me a look that was somewhere between amused and mildly concerned.

“You okay there, Y/N?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

I sighed dramatically. “I am so ready to be done with these crutches.”

Navigating life on two feet was hard enough. With crutches? It was like trying to cross a balance beam in roller skates. The countdown to my next doctor’s appointment was on.

After lunch, Mina got lost in a wedding magazine she’d picked up from the mail, which left me with a rare moment of peace. I stretched out on the couch, my mind finally allowed to wander.

And, of course, it wandered right back to him.

Jungkook.

I didn’t know much about him—barely more than his first name—and yet here I was, thinking about him like a teenager with a crush. Which was ridiculous. But also undeniable.

He was absurdly good-looking. The kind of guy you noticed in a room. And for some reason, I couldn’t shake him.

Bronx. Tuesday nights. Five days from now.

Could I actually work up the nerve to go?

Part of me wanted to. Just to see him again. To feel that weird, electric thing that had sparked between us at the airport.

But another part of me—the part that had spent years keeping people at a safe distance—was already coming up with excuses.

Maybe he was just being nice.

Maybe Bronx was just a casual recommendation, not an invitation.

But then why mention Tuesday?

The uncertainty gnawed at me.

I sighed, half-wishing life was as simple as those old country songs—Do you like me? Check yes or no.

But it wasn’t that easy, was it?

Before I could spiral any further into my overthinking, Mina’s phone went off—a series of high-pitched squeals that could only mean one thing: bridal emergency.

She groaned, already getting to her feet, phone pressed to her ear before she was even fully upright. “Promise me you won’t touch anything while I’m gone,” she said, pointing at me like I was the kind of person who might start unpacking just to be difficult. “Lucy and I will help you sort everything later.”

I held up my hands in surrender. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Satisfied, she turned on her heel and disappeared out the door, already deep in crisis management mode.

For once, I didn’t fight it. I wasn’t about to wrestle with the mountain of bags and boxes on my own. Instead, I let myself sink deeper into the couch, the cushions swallowing me whole. I popped in my earbuds and let my iPod shuffle through songs, the familiar hum of music settling over me like a blanket.

And before I knew it, I was out.

I managed to avoid Mina for two whole days, using jet lag and my aching knee as perfect excuses to dodge any heavy lifting. But, of course, Saturday morning came, and so did she—armed with coffee, muffins, and an all-important battle plan. Today, she declared, was Divine Design Day, and reinforcements were on their way. Jimin and Taehyung were due to arrive at 10:00 AM sharp to help paint and set up the loft. I groaned inwardly at the thought of another long day of projects, but I couldn’t help but feel a little curious about the guys Mina and Lucy had been raving about.

Apparently, Mina had tried to recruit her brother Jungkook too, but he was busy spending the day with the team doctor after taking a nasty hit during last night’s game. I’d heard Mina and Lucy screaming from across the hall—wild cheers when the game went well, furious shouts when the refs blew a call. They’d invited me to watch, but I’d opted for a quiet evening with a book instead. After hearing their passionate recap, though, I made a mental note to join them next time. It sounded like it was quite the spectacle.

“Let’s move it, Y/N,” Mina clapped her hands, already pushing me toward the door. “We need to hit Home Depot for paint before the guys crawl out of bed.”

I dragged myself along, grumbling as I grabbed my coat, purse, and crutches. “Isn’t Lucy coming with us?”

“She threatened to spike my coffee if I woke her before nine,” Mina laughed. “She’ll catch up when we get back.”

“Just don’t go overboard, okay? I don’t need my apartment looking like it belongs on the cover of Better Homes & Gardens.”

“You’re no fun,” Mina pouted, but then a mischievous grin spread across her face. “Okay, fine, how about this: you get veto power, but I promise you won’t need it.”

“Deal,” I sighed, knowing full well this was as good as it was going to get.

We took Lucy’s BMW since it had more trunk space than Mina’s Porsche—which, considering how much Mina shopped, made me wonder why she even owned a sports car in the first place. As I buckled in, I was reminded that I still hadn’t picked up my own car from the dealership.

“You know, I really should get my car sometime,” I muttered as I adjusted my seatbelt.

“Not a chance,” Mina scoffed. “You’re not driving anywhere with those crutches.”

“Well, I’m hoping to be rid of them after my appointment on Monday. I’ve got a new doctor, Dr. Jeon.”

Mina’s eyes lit up. “Dr. Jeon? That’s my dad! I can’t believe I didn’t mention my last name was Jeon.”

“Small world,” I muttered, still processing. “So, your dad’s my new doctor?”

“Yep! And trust me, you’re in the best hands. He’s patched up half the hockey players in Michigan.”

Home Depot was its usual chaos, but Mina, ever the drill sergeant of design, had the entire trip organized to perfection. Armed with measurements, color swatches, and detailed diagrams, she had us in and out in under an hour. The fact that she could pull that off while also looking like she belonged in a magazine made me half-wonder if she secretly had superpowers.

For the first time that morning, I felt a spark of excitement—seeing my empty, bare-walled loft finally coming to life didn’t seem so bad after all.

When we pulled up to the building, Jimin’s truck and a rugged-looking Jeep were already parked out front.

“Right on time,” Mina said, grabbing her phone. “I’ll call the guys and have them unload everything. And don’t even think about protesting, Y/N.”

“I wasn’t going to,” I said, raising my hands in mock surrender.

“No, but I know you hate asking for help,” Mina added sweetly, though there was no arguing with her tone. “Too bad. You’re not lifting a finger today.”

“Mina, your dad’s my doctor, not you,” I teased, but she just stuck her tongue out at me while dialing.

“We’re outside—come unload,” she barked into the phone, then slipped it back into her purse with a satisfied grin.

Within minutes, Lucy appeared with two guys in tow. One of them was immediately tackled by Mina, who launched herself at him like a human cannonball. He caught her with ease, laughing as if he’d done it a thousand times before.

The other guy—who I assumed was Taehyung—had his arm casually draped around Lucy’s shoulders and looked like he could bench-press a truck. He was huge, his broad chest stretching the fabric of his jacket, but there was this boyish grin that somehow made him less intimidating. His dark hair was cut close, and his deep brown eyes twinkled with a playful, mischievous glint.

Lucy led him over to me, and Taehyung sized me up with a cheeky smirk. “So, you’re the fresh meat, huh?”

“That’s me,” I replied with a laugh. “Straight off the butcher block.”

“I like this one,” he said to Lucy, ruffling her hair. “She’s got sass. Can we keep her?”

“You’re such an idiot,” Lucy shot back, shoving him playfully.

Taehyung glanced at my crutches. “What’s with the wingmen?”

“Huh?”

“The crutches,” he clarified, grinning. “Your wingmen.”

“Oh, right. Sports injury.”

“A player, huh?” His grin widened, teasing me.

“Not exactly,” I said, laughing.

“I dunno, Lou,” he said to Lucy, “I don’t think she’ll keep up with us.”

“Keep it up, Tae,” Lucy teased, nudging him, “or I might dump you for her.”

“Eh, Jimin can do the heavy lifting. I’ll just carry the cripple,” Taehyung said with a wicked grin, and before I could protest, he scooped me up like I was weightless. A startled yelp escaped me as my crutches clattered to the sidewalk. And just like that, I was cradled in his arms like a rag doll.

“Taehyung!” Mina shouted, pulling herself away from Jimin to storm over. “She’s injured! You can’t just throw her around like that.”

“She’s tiny, almost as small as you,” Taehyung laughed, totally unbothered. “Besides, if she’s sticking around, she’s gotta get used to a little manhandling.”

“She won’t be sticking around if you scare her off by treating her like a sack of potatoes,” Mina snapped, hands on her hips.

Taehyung just grinned and looked down at me. “You don’t mind, do you, Y/N?”

Still processing the fact that I was four feet off the ground in the arms of a complete stranger, I blinked, and to my surprise, I nodded. “Uh, sure, Taehyung,” I muttered, feeling oddly at ease despite the absurdity of the situation. His energy, his laugh, the warmth in his eyes—it was impossible to feel uncomfortable around him.

“See? Y/N’s my homegirl now,” Taehyung said with a triumphant grin, like he’d just won an award for best human being.

“Oh, you know it, G,” Lucy chimed in, laughing like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Chim, come meet my new best friend!” Taehyung called over his shoulder, still holding me like it was the most natural thing in the world—like this wasn’t a situation where I probably should have been, I don’t know, walking?

Jimin, who had been watching the whole circus unfold with a quiet, amused smile, finally made his way over. He extended his hand, his voice as soft and melodic as the warm look in his eyes. “Pleasure to meet you, Y/N,” he said, each word carrying a kind of gentleness that made it impossible not to like him instantly.

Still awkwardly perched on Taehyung’s back, I reached out to shake his hand, the usual wave of discomfort that came with meeting new people creeping up. But something about Jimin’s calm presence, those kind eyes of his, made it easier than I expected. “Don’t worry,” he added with a knowing grin, “you’ll get used to this bunch of lunatics.”

I let out a small laugh, the tension in my shoulders easing just a little. “I’m starting to think you’re right.”

“Alright, enough with the pleasantries!” Mina’s voice cut through, sharp and loud, as always. She clapped her hands with military precision. “We didn’t drag you guys here for social hour. Time to work!”

“Yes, ma’am,” Jimin said, snapping a playful salute before heading over to the trunk to start unloading supplies.

I wriggled a bit on Taehyung’s back, trying to find a way down. “Okay, Taehyung, time to put me down.”

“Nope,” he replied, patting my leg like it was a done deal. “I told you, I’m carrying you in.”

“I can walk, you know,” I protested, feeling the need to remind him that I still had two fully-functioning legs, even if they weren’t exactly in peak condition. “And Jimin could probably use your help.”

“Jimin’s got it covered,” Taehyung said nonchalantly, grabbing a bag of paint supplies with one hand while still managing to hold me securely on his back with the other. “Lucy, grab her crutches—aka Goose and Maverick.”

“Goose and Maverick?” I raised an eyebrow, thoroughly confused.

“Your wingmen,” Taehyung explained with utmost seriousness, like I was supposed to get this. “You can’t fly without them.”

“You’re ridiculous, Taehyung.”

“I know,” he replied with a wide, disarming grin. “That’s what makes me so lovable.”

And with that, he hauled us both inside, with Jimin, Mina, and Lucy following behind, their arms loaded with paint cans and brushes.

By the time we made it up to my apartment, I’d stopped trying to escape Taehyung’s “manhandling.” It was clear this “Divine Design Day” was more like a crazy, fun-filled bootcamp than your typical painting party. But weirdly, I didn’t mind. Between the laughter, the constant banter, and the easy camaraderie, I realized something—I was smiling more than I had in a long time. The tension I’d carried around for months, maybe even years, seemed to melt away with every joke and every shared moment of laughter.

As the day went on, I noticed something else: this wasn’t just about painting or setting up furniture. This was their way of pulling me into their world, a world that felt warm and open in a way I hadn’t experienced in years. By lunchtime, I had Taehyung laughing so hard he nearly dropped his paint roller, and I felt myself slipping back into sarcasm, something I hadn’t felt comfortable doing in a while.

Lucy, Taehyung, and Jimin worked seamlessly together, taping off the walls and laying down tarps while Mina orchestrated the whole operation like a general overseeing her troops. At first, I tried to stay out of their way, but before long, I found myself pulled into the action—sitting in the middle of the room, surrounded by paint splatters, as they worked around me. It felt oddly comforting, this strange, unexpected bond forming around me.

By late afternoon, the loft had transformed. We’d painted two rooms and were almost done with a third. The place was beginning to feel like an actual home, a place I could settle into. The thought of unpacking didn’t feel as overwhelming anymore, so I decided to start with something familiar: my books.

Jimin carried the three boxes over like they weighed nothing, flashing me a smile before heading back to help Taehyung with the last of the painting. I opened the first box, and immediately, nostalgia hit me like a wave. Books had always been my safe haven. The feel of the pages, the scent of old paper—it was like stepping back into a world where everything made sense. As I started stacking them by genre and alphabetically, a sense of calm washed over me.

“Hey, Y/N!” Mina’s voice called out from the living room, interrupting my quiet moment. “Do you want us to start unpacking these other boxes? The paint’s dry enough now.”

“Yeah, sure,” I called back, not thinking much of it. “There shouldn’t be much in them.”

Mina’s voice got closer as she poked around. “One’s labeled ‘Miscellaneous,’ and the other doesn’t have anything written on it.”

“Huh, that’s weird,” I said, frowning slightly. “I thought I labeled everything.”

“Well, want me to open the mystery box?” Mina asked, her curiosity piqued.

“Go for it,” I said, feeling a small tug of curiosity myself. What could it be?

I heard the familiar sound of tape being ripped open, followed by Mina’s high-pitched squeal that could probably be heard by the neighbors. It echoed through the loft, loud enough to make me jump.

“Geez, Mina,” I muttered, stacking another book on the shelf. “Are you trying to summon every dog in the city?”

“Y/N!” Mina’s voice was filled with barely-contained excitement. When she popped her head around the half-wall, her eyes were wide with mischief, the kind of look that usually meant trouble.

“What is it, Mina?” I asked, wary.

She strutted over, something in her hands, her face lit with that mischievous gleam. And then, she held it up.

It was the plaque. That plaque. The one my mom had made after the 2020 Olympics, with “Olympic Silver Medalist” gleaming beneath my name. My stomach dropped, like someone had yanked the floor out from under me.

Shit.

Everything inside me screamed to grab it, shove it back in the box, pretend I’d never seen it. But I was frozen, staring at that plaque like it had just upended everything I was trying to build here. There it was, in all its shiny, unapologetic glory—my past, casually standing right in the middle of my future like it belonged. Like it had every right to.

“Care to explain why you never mentioned this?” Mina teased, her grin stretching wide like she had just found the golden ticket.

I groaned and rubbed a hand over my face. Of course, of course this would come up now. I wasn’t ready for this conversation—not now, not ever. “Where did you even find that?”

“In the unmarked box,” she said, like that was all the explanation needed.

Of course. The unmarked box. Thanks, Emily, I thought, bitterly. Of all the things my mother could’ve sent, this had to make the trip.

Mina was looking at me like she was a detective who’d just cracked the case. Her eyes were practically burning holes through me, waiting for me to spill the beans. I sighed, knowing I couldn’t avoid it. “Was there anything else in there?” I asked, stalling, even though I already knew exactly what else was hiding in that box.

“Oh, plenty,” she replied, clearly loving this. “Or should I say... Y/N Y/L/N, Olympic Silver Medalist and National Champion Figure Skater? Care to explain why this little tidbit never came up in conversation?”

Her words hung there between us, playful but pointed, and I sighed again. Mina wasn’t mad, not at all. She was just amused—like she’d just uncovered some secret Easter egg in a movie she wasn’t expecting.

“Okay, yeah,” I muttered, feeling the flush creep up my neck. “You got me. I was going to tell you eventually, I just... didn’t want it to be a thing, you know?” I looked down at my hands, fidgeting with the spine of a book. “It’s not like I’m ashamed of it. I just... liked that you didn’t know. It was easier that way. I could just be Y/N, without all the... assumptions or whatever.”

Mina’s face softened, and she lowered the plaque with a quiet chuckle. “I get it, Y/N. Honestly, I do. And for what it’s worth, it doesn’t change anything. Lucy and I? We’re still the same girls who’ve been feeding you pizza and hauling in your groceries.” She gave my arm a gentle squeeze. “And trust me, Jimin and Taehyung? They’re probably the last people on earth who care about figure skating. No crazed fans here.”

Relief flooded through me, but a little bit of that lingering embarrassment stayed in the back of my mind. “Thanks,” I said, my voice quiet. “I’m sorry for not saying something earlier. It just... it felt good to be normal for a while.”

Mina grinned, nudging me with her shoulder. “Normal’s overrated. And you didn’t lie—you just... omitted a few sparkly details.”

I laughed, feeling the tension start to melt. We made our way back to the box. Inside, it wasn’t just the plaque—there were old photos, magazines, medals, and even some of my old costumes, glittering with sequins. It was like a time capsule from a life I thought I’d left behind, packed up meticulously and sent across the country by Emily, my ever-persistent mother.

Pinned to one of the costumes was a note in her unmistakable handwriting: Just in case.

“Subtle, Emily,” I muttered, tossing the costume back into the box.

“Who’s Emily?” Mina asked, plopping down beside me on the floor.

“My mom,” I replied, letting out a long sigh.

Mina nodded, picking up one of the magazines with my face plastered on the cover. She turned it over in her hands like she was still trying to process it. “So... I’m guessing you didn’t pack all this yourself?”

“Nope,” I said, shaking my head. “I left all my skating stuff back in Vegas. But Emily—she has her own ideas about what’s best. She thought I might need a little ‘reminder’ of my accomplishments.”

“Or a lot of reminders,” Mina said, holding up another sparkly costume, her eyebrows raised in mock surprise.

I snatched the costume from her, laughing despite myself. “Well, I didn’t exactly want all of this here. I’m not sure if I’ll ever skate again, so I didn’t feel like living in sequins and medals every day, you know?”

Mina’s grin faded a little, and she placed her hand on my knee, her touch gentle. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“It’s fine,” I said, trying to push away the heaviness creeping into my chest. “I’m dealing with it. I just... didn’t think I’d need all this while I’m... figuring things out.”

We sat there in a quiet, heavy silence, surrounded by the ghosts of my past life that refused to stay buried. I glanced down at the shimmering fabric in my lap, running my fingers over the beads, feeling too familiar, too close to everything I was trying to leave behind.

“And that’s exactly why she sent it all,” I added, offering a bitter smile. “In Emily’s world, this injury is just me being dramatic. I should be back on the ice by now, training for my next competition.”

“That’s insane,” Mina scoffed, shaking her head in disbelief. “Doesn’t she know what’s going on with your knee?”

“Emily only hears what she wants to hear,” I half-laughed, half-sighed. “But don’t worry. She can’t push me into anything anymore. I’m in control now.”

“Well, whatever you need, we’re here for you, Y/N,” Mina said softly, her words warm and solid. “Whatever you need, whenever you need it.”

I smiled, a warmth spreading through my chest that chased away some of the darkness. “Thanks, Mina. I know I’m not great at all this emotional stuff, but... I’m really glad I met you. It’s been a long time since I had real friends.”

Mina beamed, knocking her knee against mine. “Best friends, Y/N. Not just regular friends.”

I nudged her back, laughing, my heart feeling a little lighter. “Yeah, best friends.”

We sat there, sprawled out on the floor, amidst the remnants of my past life—photos, costumes, memories of who I used to be. And for the first time in a long time, the silence between us wasn’t uncomfortable. It was easy. And, for once, I didn’t mind the mess.

"Hey, lazy bums!" Lucy’s voice rang out from the bedroom where she’d been helping Jimin and Taehyung tape off the last wall for painting. "Are you two just gonna lounge around while we do all the work?"

"Yep, that was the plan," Mina said, not missing a beat.

"Sounds good to me," I chimed in, grinning.

Lucy appeared in the doorway, her grin already in place as she plopped down next to us on the floor like she had nowhere better to be. "Well, if you’re gonna be lazy, I might as well join you."

Mina shot me a sly look and turned to Lucy. "So, Lucy," she drawled, dragging out the words, "did you know that Y/N here is a big-time figure skater?"

Lucy’s eyebrows shot up for a second before she shrugged like it was no big deal. "No shit? I knew your name sounded familiar," she said, totally unfazed. "That’s pretty cool."

Mina gave me a look that clearly said See? No big deal, and I tried not to laugh at how casually Lucy took it.

"You know, Y/N," Lucy said, leaning back on her elbows, "you kinda kick ass out there."

I couldn’t help but laugh. "Thanks, Lucy."

"Seriously," Mina added, rolling over onto her stomach and propping herself up on her elbows. "The things you can do with your legs... If I were that flexible, Jimin wouldn’t let me out of the bedroom for days!"

I giggled and shook my head. "Please, Mina, you’re giving me way too much credit."

Lucy grinned, mimicking Mina’s pose. "She’s got a point, Y/N. All that flexibility? Total game-changer in the bedroom. Think of the positions you could get into."

"Wow, thanks for the confidence boost, Lucy," I joked, feeling my face heat up. "Glad to know I’ve got you all worked up."

"Not me, you dork," Lucy said, with an exaggerated eye roll. "Guys. You know, the ones who actually matter in this scenario."

"Well, I wouldn’t really know," I said, trying to keep my tone light, though my chest was tightening a little. "But hey, good to know I’ve got options. Stripper? Kama Sutra demonstrator? Naked contortionist?"

Mina suddenly sat up, her eyes narrowing with curiosity. "Wait a second," she said, her voice suddenly full of disbelief. "Wouldn’t know? Y/N, are you... a virgin?" she asked, as if I had just confessed to being a secret agent.

Heat surged to my cheeks, and before I could even think about how to respond, I shot up like I had just been caught doing something illegal. "Okay, I think that’s enough prying into my personal life for one day," I called over my shoulder, trying—and failing—to sound casual. Embarrassment crawled up my neck like wildfire. "Let’s save the deep dives for when we’re knee-deep in a tub of Ben & Jerry’s at some inevitable sleepover. Pillow fights optional."

"Oh no, Y/N," Mina’s voice rang out behind me, dripping with playful menace. "We’re your best friends now—there’s no such thing as ‘enough prying.’" She paused dramatically, and I could practically hear her smirking. "But fine, keep your little secrets for now. Just know that Lucy and I are official Y/N Y/L/N spelunkers. No secret is too deep, no skeleton too buried. We’ll dig it all up eventually."

I couldn’t help but laugh, shaking my head as I rifled through the fridge, pretending to look for something—anything—that would change the subject. The truth was, with Mina and Lucy around, there was no way in hell my past was going to stay hidden for long. They were relentless, the kind of friends who didn’t just scratch the surface. They dug. They prodded. They excavated until they hit bedrock. And maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing.

Monday morning, I woke up before dawn, as usual. But instead of jumping out of bed and rushing straight for the coffee maker, I stayed under the soft feather pillows that Mina had insisted would help me sleep better. I wasn’t sure they had, but for the first time in a while, it felt easier to just stay there, letting the weight of the day press down on me slowly, like a shadow growing across the room.

Today was the day my path would be decided. I might have been being melodramatic, but it was hard not to be when the appointment felt like the turning point. The moment I’d have to choose which way to go. I’d been stalled at this fork for too long. It was time to pick a direction, any direction.

A lot of that decision would depend on the new doctor. Dr. Banerjee back in Vegas hadn’t been hopeful. He practically told me not to get my hopes up. Would Dr. Jeon say the same? Emily had made it clear she thought I was just milking the injury, playing the drama queen. And sometimes, I wondered if she was right. Was I just dragging this out? My knee still throbbed when I pushed it too hard, but maybe I was just being weak. Maybe I needed to toughen up, ignore the pain, and push through.

Enough lying in bed. The answer would come soon enough.

I climbed out of bed and started my usual morning stretches, paying close attention to how my knee felt. The lack of soreness gave me a little spark of hope. My flexibility was still there, too—thankfully, I hadn’t lost that during the months of inactivity. That was what had made me stand out on the ice, those long, graceful spiral sequences. If I could still do them, maybe I could skate again. And if I could skate again, I’d need to get back to my Pilates routine, pronto. The longer I waited, the harder it would be to regain the strength and flexibility I’d need.

But for now, all I could do was stretch and hope. The future could wait a little longer.

The truth was, I missed the rush that exercise always gave me. The kind of energy that made my limbs feel electric, the burn that felt almost like a reward. Sitting around, doing nothing, had turned out to be more suffocating than I’d imagined. The first week after surgery had been kind of a relief—like a forced break from the rigid schedule that had ruled my life for so long. I had sprawled out on the couch, devoured three Jane Austen novels in a row, only stopping for food, bathroom breaks, and the occasional nap. It was pure bliss.

But then... the days started to blur. By mid-December, boredom had sunk its teeth in, and I could feel it gnawing at me. Emily, of course, decided I needed a “push.” So, she dragged me back to the rink to “knock some sense into me,” as she put it. The rehab exercises Dr. Banerjee prescribed weren’t enough for her. She complained that it was all taking too long, and after one mortifying demonstration where she shoved me out onto the ice and I immediately fell flat on my ass, she finally stopped insisting I skate.

That didn’t mean she backed off, though. Oh no. She still had me show up every day to “consult” with Yoongi, my coach, about what came next. But it only made me feel trapped. Like a prisoner pacing in the perimeter of a shrinking cell. That was when I started thinking about leaving. With Emily always there, it was like I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t hear myself over the sound of her voice barking orders and issuing demands. If my career was over, I needed space to figure out what came next, and staying in Vegas wasn’t going to give me that.

Dr. Banerjee had mentioned a few specialists in Michigan who had experience with my kind of injury. As soon as he said it, I latched onto the idea of moving back. The doctors would satisfy Emily’s need for reassurance, and the distance would give me the space to breathe, to be. She didn’t like it at first—said it was a waste of time, of resources—but when she saw I wasn’t backing down, she caved. Not without conditions, of course.

She found the apartment, bought the car, booked the doctor’s appointments, arranged the flights. The only thing I cared about was leaving as soon as possible. So, I did. I boarded a plane, said goodbye to the warmth of Nevada, and didn’t look back.

And here I was now. Sitting at the edge of a decision. Despite the tight knot of anxiety in my stomach, I had to admit, moving back was starting to feel like the right choice. There was something about Michigan that felt more like home than anywhere I’d been in years. It wasn’t just the cold air or the city’s winding streets; it was something deeper, something about being away from the noise of expectations, the pressure to constantly prove myself. Here, I could just be Y/N, and for the first time in a long while, that didn’t feel like a hollow title.

I went through the motions of getting ready—showering, drying my hair, pulling on a pair of jeans and a sweater. I wasn’t sure if the routine was helping calm my nerves or just delaying the inevitable. I ate a lemon poppy seed muffin, wiped the crumbs off the counter, and tried to ignore the tension creeping up my shoulders. My mind kept drifting back to the appointment. What would Dr. Jeon say? Was I still Y/N Y/L/N, competitive skater? Or was I about to become someone else entirely?

A knock on the door startled me out of my thoughts. Mina’s voice floated in, cheerful as ever. “Morning!” she called out as she let herself in. I’d given her a spare key yesterday—mostly because she insisted, and I hadn’t come up with a good reason not to.

“Good morning,” I said, my voice lighter than I felt, as she waltzed into the kitchen, all bright-eyed and grinning.

“Happy Lose-the-Crutches Day!” she proclaimed with a teasing lilt in her voice.

“You’re weird,” I said, shaking my head.

“Oh, come on, Y/N. You can’t tell me you’re not excited to ditch your flyboys.” She shot a glance at the crutches leaning against the wall. “Maybe with fewer appendages to trip over, you’ll stop bumping into things so much.”

“Doubt it,” I replied, holding back a smile. “I’ve always been a klutz. Kind of ironic, don’t you think? Champion figure skater who trips over air.”

“Not ironic,” Mina said, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge. “You were born to be on the ice. That’s all.”

I raised an eyebrow at her, a little skeptical. “You really think so?”

“Definitely,” she said, her tone sincere, her eyes steady. It made me pause. “I’ve seen you skate, Y/N. It’s like watching something otherworldly.”

I’d heard words like that before—usually from articles or fans—but hearing it from Mina, with that quiet belief in her eyes, felt different. It felt like maybe I could believe it too, if I let myself.

I cleared my throat, avoiding her gaze. “Thanks, Mina.”

She grinned, brightening up. “Come on, babe. Let’s get going. Grab Goose and Maverick and let’s jet.”

I rolled my eyes at the ridiculous names she’d given my crutches but grabbed them anyway. The sooner this was over, the sooner I’d know what came next. Mina and I headed out, slipping into her car as she cranked the heat.

“Thanks for chauffeuring me,” I said, trying to make light of the anxiety gnawing at me.

“How many times do I have to tell you?” she laughed. “I’m happy to do it. Besides, it gives me an excuse to pop in and see Dad. Makes me look like the ‘good child.’”

“I have a feeling you don’t need much help keeping that title.”

“True,” she said, her voice filled with fondness. “But I like stopping by the hospital now and then. It’s funny how different we all are—my brothers and me—but we’ve always been close. Taehyung’s a tank on the ice, and Jungkook’s fast as hell, but they’ve always looked out for me. And growing up with them... well, let’s just say I’ve had a lot of practice handling troublemakers.”

"How did they end up playing on the same team, anyway? Doesn’t that kind of thing usually not happen?" I asked, trying to distract myself from the knot tightening in my chest.

“It doesn’t,” she admitted. “Taehyung wasn’t a big name in the draft picks. Being a hometown boy helped, but once the Red Wings saw him play, they knew they had a hidden gem. Then Jungkook came up the next year. Having Taehyung already on the team definitely helped his chances. Plus, it’s good PR—two hometown brothers in the NHL.”

“Guess I’ll have to learn a little more about hockey,” I said, offering a half-smile.

“Y/N, trust me. You’re in Michigan now. It’s practically a requirement.” She winked at me as we pulled into the hospital parking lot. The knot of anxiety tightened in my chest again, but it didn’t feel the same. The difference now was, for the first time, I felt like I had a little more control over where I went from here—even if I had no idea what the next steps would look like.

The uncertainty was still there, but it didn’t feel like a shadow I had to run from. For now, it was just another stretch of ice I’d have to navigate. And if I stumbled a bit along the way, well, I could live with that.

“That’s pretty cool,” I said, and Mina’s face lit up, her voice picking up speed as she launched into more stories about her brothers and their love for hockey.

“Yeah, they’re living the dream. Mom and Dad were all in on their decision to go pro. A lot of the hockey parents we knew were pulling their kids out, saying they should focus on school or get 'real' jobs. But my parents never did that. They always cared more about us finding something we loved, not just something practical.”

As she kept talking, sharing memories of their childhood, I could practically feel the warmth of the Jeon family’s bond. It was one of those things you could almost touch, the kind of closeness that felt familiar and distant all at once. Taehyung, I learned, was adopted. His birth mother had been Mina's aunt—Yuri's sister—who’d passed away when he was a baby. The Jeons had taken him in, raised him as their own, and made him the oldest son.

There was something comforting in the way Mina talked about them. It was like hearing about a life I’d never had but always kind of wished I could. A life where family wasn’t just a word, but a real, tangible thing.

We pulled into the parking lot of St. Joseph’s, and I felt the weight of it settle over me. Signing in at the front desk felt like signing away the last of my denial. And when the nurse called my name five minutes later, the nerves hit, deep and clawing at my chest.

In the exam room, everything smelled like antiseptic, cold and sterile, the kind of chill that seeps into your bones from the linoleum floors. The nurse did her usual routine—height, weight, blood pressure—and then left us alone. Mina sat in a chair next to the exam table, and I perched on the edge, my hands folded together so tightly that my knuckles were almost white.

It was ridiculous how fast my pulse was racing. I’d been through so much worse before—competitions where the world was watching, where one slip-up could cost everything. But this... this was different. This was my future, maybe even who I was, dangling on a thread. Figure skating didn’t give you time to waste. I always thought I had more. Now it felt like the curtain was coming down, and I was stuck in the dark.

My foot started tapping a nervous rhythm against the cabinet. I bit my lip hard enough that it almost hurt. Mina leaned over and gently placed a hand on my foot, stilling it.

“You okay?” she asked softly.

I nodded, but it felt like a lie.

Before I could say anything, the door swung open, and in walked a man I assumed was Dr. Jeon. If this was Mina’s dad, then he was definitely proof that some people aged like fine wine. He had salt-and-pepper hair slicked back in a way that looked effortless but somehow stylish. His brown eyes were warm but sharp, taking in the room with a kind of calm authority that made me wonder if Michigan doctors all looked like movie stars instead of regular people.

“Y/N Y/L/N?” he asked, his voice shifting from professional to something warmer as his gaze landed on Mina. “Oh hey der, Mina! Didn’t see ya there!”

I almost snorted. Did he seriously just say ‘hey der’? I felt like I’d stepped into a Michigan stereotype, except, instead of flannel-wearing folks talking about fishing, everyone here looked like they belonged on the cover of a magazine.

Mina jumped up to give him a hug, and the bond between them was clear. The way his arm slid around her shoulders, the way she grinned so wide her eyes sparkled as she introduced me.

“Y/N’s my new neighbor! Thought I’d bring her by to say hi,” she said, practically bouncing.

“Well, that’s just great! Hope she hasn’t been driving you too nuts already,” Dr. Jeon said, the playful gleam in his eyes making me smile, even though my nerves were still jittering.

“No, Mina’s been great, Dr. Jeon,” I said, but my voice came out a little tighter than I wanted.

“Please, call me Suho,” he said with a grin. “Any friend of Mina’s is a friend of mine. And if you’re hanging out with her, I’m sure we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.”

“Oh! That reminds me,” Mina interrupted, her eyes suddenly wide with mischief. “Are you and Mom going to the game on Friday?”

“You betcha! Wouldn’t miss it.”

Mina turned to me, practically glowing. “Y/N, do you want to come to the Red Wings game with us? Lucy and I are going, and we always meet up with the guys afterward. It’s a blast! Please say you’ll go?”

“Mina, you’re pulling out the puppy lip,” I warned, though I felt my resolve weakening.

“I know! It works every time. Come on, please?”

I sighed, feeling the last of my resistance crumble. “Fine. I’ll go.”

“Yesss!” she cheered, her excitement contagious. “This is going to be so awesome. Oh, and can I pick out your outfit?”

“Alright, Mina,” Suho interrupted with a chuckle. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I need to actually, you know, consult with my patient here.”

“Oops, right,” Mina said, sheepishly. “I’ll be in the waiting room. See you Friday, Dad!” She kissed his cheek before bouncing out of the room, leaving behind a silence that felt almost too loud.

“She’s always been like that?” I asked, half-amused, half in disbelief.

Suho chuckled, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. “Yah, she’s always been a bit of a firecracker. But she means well. Now, let’s take a look at that knee, shall we?”

The fluttering in my stomach kicked up again as he flipped open a manila folder. “Your doctor in Nevada sent over your records,” he said, drawing out the ‘a’ in Nevada in a way that made me bite back a smile. He caught my look and grinned. “What’s the matter? My Michigan accent getting to ya?”

I let out a breathy laugh, the tension starting to ease. “Sorry, I’m still readjusting. It’s been a while since I’ve lived here.”

He leaned in like he was about to share a secret. “Oh, don’tcha worry. We’ll have ya speakin’ like a northerner again in no time, ya betcha.”

The exaggerated drawl pulled a groan out of me, but it was hard to stay tense with him grinning like that. The atmosphere in the room felt lighter, easier to breathe in. Maybe it wasn’t just the change of scenery that would help me adjust. Maybe it was moments like this.

“Alright, let’s get down to business,” he said, flipping open my medical records with a practiced flick of his wrist. His voice shifted, more serious now. “Looks like you tore your ACL pretty badly back in November and had surgery not long after. I see you also had a concussion from the fall?”

I nodded, the words tight in my throat as the memory of that day washed over me. The fall. It was one of those moments that replays on a loop in your head, like a nightmare you can’t escape. Every time I closed my eyes, there it was again.

“The good news is,” Suho continued, “it looks like the concussion’s healed up nicely. And your knee—well, it’s a long road, but you’re making progress. Any soreness left?”

“Yeah,” I said, my voice tighter than I wanted. “It still aches if I’m on my feet for too long. I’ve been doing the rehab exercises, but it’s slow. Really slow.”

Suho nodded and gently moved my leg, testing the range of motion. “That’s to be expected. Recovery from something like this doesn’t happen overnight. It’ll still be sore. It might even throb as you rebuild strength, but you’re healing. You’re making progress. I think we can start transitioning you off the crutches. Take it slow, though—walk short distances without them at first, see how it feels.”

His words hit me like a lifeline I didn’t even know I needed. “So... does that mean I can skate again? Not right now, but... eventually?”

Suho met my eyes. His face was serious again. “If you stick with the rehab, listen to your body, and don’t rush it, then yes, I think it’s possible. But it’s going to take time. Patience is going to be key.” He paused, his gaze anchoring me. “We can start you on the treadmill by the end of the week. Slow, steady walking, just to get your knee used to the movement again. Maybe—just maybe—if everything goes well, we can start with some light skating. No jumps, no spins—just laps.”

Relief hit me like a wave, a warmth that spread through me like the first hint of daylight after a long night. It wasn’t a promise, but it was something. And right now, that was enough.

“Thank you,” I whispered, my voice fragile, barely holding it together.

Suho smiled, kind but firm. “One step at a time, Y/N. You’re not in this alone.”

I sat there, absorbing the weight of his words. This wasn’t the end. It was a new beginning, a different kind of fight. But it was mine.

He flipped through my records, his voice settling back into its practical tone. “Keep up with the therapy. Let’s schedule a follow-up in early April to see how you’re doing. Any questions?”

One question burned in my chest, the one I’d been too scared to ask for months. My heart pounded in my ears, and I swallowed hard, trying to push past the lump in my throat. What if he said what Dr. Banerjee had said? That the damage was too severe? That I’d never skate again? That I’d never compete again?

“Yes, Y/N?” Suho’s voice was calm, patient, his eyes urging me to ask.

I took a shaky breath, forcing myself to speak. “Will I be able to compete again?”

For a split second, he didn’t answer, and in that pause, the whole world seemed to hold its breath with me. Then he exhaled slowly, his voice careful. “That’s a good question. It’s possible. A lot of athletes come back from ACL tears, some even making a full recovery. But a lot depends on how well the next few months go. You’ve got to retrain your knee without overdoing it.”

He leaned forward slightly, his hand resting gently on my shoulder. “The next month is crucial. You’re going to start feeling like your knee’s back to normal, but that’s when you’re most at risk for re-injury. It’ll be tempting to jump right back into your routine, but you’ve got to stick to the plan. If you can do that, we’ll reassess in April.”

I nodded, my mind spinning with all the things he was telling me. There was so much to process, and the fear—God, the fear—still lingered like a shadow, gnawing at the edges of my hope. But then Suho’s next words broke through that darkness.

“Y/N, I don’t want you to lose hope. I know it’s frustrating, but mental determination is going to play a huge role in your recovery. If you stay patient and committed, there’s every reason to believe you’ll get back to where you were.”

A tiny spark of hope flared in my chest. “Really?” I asked, barely daring to believe it.

Suho smiled, a warmth in his eyes that made me believe him just a little more. “I can’t guarantee anything, but if you stay the course, there’s a good chance you’ll be back on that ice—maybe even as an Olympian again.”

The weight I’d been carrying for months felt a little lighter. A little. I felt like maybe—just maybe—there was something to hope for. “Thanks, Dr. Je—uh, Suho,” I corrected myself, sheepish at the grin he shot me.

“No need to thank me,” he said with a chuckle. “This one’s all on you. Just don’t push yourself too hard. There’ll be plenty of time for that later, once you’re healed.”

I gave him a mock salute. “Yes, sir.”

We wrapped things up, and as I grabbed my crutches to leave, Suho gave me one last smile. “See you Friday night... at the game.”

“Oh, right! See you then.”

The cold January air hit me as I stepped outside, sharp and biting, but I didn’t mind. Not today. Hope had a way of making everything feel a little warmer, even when the world was still so cold.

After the appointment, Mina insisted on lunch, and we made our way to our favorite café. The kind of place where the staff knows your name, and the menu’s practically burned into your brain. Then, she drove me straight to the dealership where Emily had promised my new car would be waiting.

As we pulled up, my stomach did that familiar drop when I saw it: a shiny Mercedes Benz SUV, gleaming under the dealership lights like it was posing for a magazine cover. It screamed luxury—so Emily. So her. I mean, of course it was a Mercedes. Nothing less for someone like her. But to me, it was just... a reminder of how little she really understood me.

I shouldn’t have been surprised, but there it was—the familiar weight of disappointment settling in my chest like a stone.

I reluctantly climbed into the car, too shiny and new, the leather too pristine beneath me. As I pulled out of the lot, my phone buzzed—Emily, of course. She’d been waiting for me to finish the appointment so she could call and get her feedback. Normally, I’d answer right away, quick to please. But not today. I hit decline, sending her straight to voicemail. If she got upset later, I could always claim I was driving, still getting used to the new car.

We arrived back at the apartment just as Lucy was pulling in, practically radiating her usual excitement. As soon as she saw us, she bounded over, brimming with that energy that made me laugh even when I wasn’t in the mood. The two girls—always together, always bouncing off each other—decided it was the perfect time to test out my "sea legs" with a walk around the block.

“Guys, it’s January. In Michigan. And you want to go for a walk?” I asked, raising an eyebrow, already knowing the answer.

“Come on, Y/N, you’re a figure skater! Don’t tell me you can’t handle the cold,” Mina teased, already bundling up in an impressive number of layers.

“I’ll manage,” I said, surprised at their enthusiasm. Honestly, I wasn’t sure I could handle it, but they seemed so excited, I couldn’t bring myself to say no.

“It’s twenty-two degrees. Practically a heat wave!” Lucy laughed, wrapping a scarf around her neck like she was about to conquer Everest.

We set off, no real destination in mind. It felt surprisingly good to walk without crutches, to breathe in the sharp winter air, to move like I had control again. Like I wasn’t just waiting for my body to catch up with me.

Less than a block in, my phone rang again—Emily. I sighed and quickly muted it before either of them could notice.

“Who is it?” Mina asked, glancing over at me with a curious look in her eye.

“My mom,” I shrugged. “I’ll talk to her later.”

“You were living with her until last week, right?” Lucy asked, her voice full of that inquisitive, "I-want-to-know-all-about-you" tone that she never quite managed to hide.

“Yeah,” I said, glancing up at the sky, trying to gather my thoughts. “My parents split when I was a kid. Dad’s in Washington now, and Emily and I—well, we bounced around for a while.”

“That sounds exciting!” Mina said with wide eyes, like I’d been living some kind of glamorous life. “You must’ve traveled to so many cool places with skating.”

“Sort of,” I said, smiling a little. “I’ve traveled a lot, but mostly it’s arenas and hotel rooms. They all kind of blend together after a while.”

“Really? You don’t get to sightsee?” Lucy asked, surprised.

I shook my head, feeling a little embarrassed. “Not really.”

“That kinda sucks,” Lucy said bluntly, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Yeah, a little. I mean, I’m lucky to have had the opportunities, but it’s not all glitter and lights. Mostly it’s just ice rinks and gym time.”

“Not much of a social scene, huh?” Mina asked, clearly intrigued now.

“Nope,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Just a lot of catty, ultra-competitive girls and their stage moms.”

“Ever seen anyone pull a Tanya?” Lucy asked, her voice suddenly teasing, the mischievous glint in her eyes impossible to miss.

“Harding? Nah, usually the sabotage is a little more subtle than a baton to the knee.” I giggled, feeling a little lighter. The past few months had been so heavy, and for a second, it felt like the weight was finally lifting.

“That’s not how you got hurt, is it?” Mina’s voice softened, the concern slipping into her tone as her eyes searched mine.

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I just... fell during practice. Stupid. My skate caught on a rough patch of ice, and down I went. Concussion and a torn ACL.”

“Ouch,” Lucy winced, looking at me like I’d just told her about some medieval torture device.

“Yeah, it wasn’t great,” I said, feeling the sting of it even now, even though it was months ago.

“There wasn’t much news about it, though,” Lucy added, brow furrowing in thought. “I didn’t even know you were off the ice.”

“Oh, come on, Lucy!” Mina teased, rolling her eyes. “Y/N’s a big celeb. It was bound to be news eventually.”

“No, it’s okay,” I reassured them, wanting to avoid feeling like I was in the spotlight. “My mom’s my manager, and she kept it quiet. She was hoping I’d bounce back quickly and didn’t want the press all over it. I’m sure once I don’t show up at Nationals, something will leak.”

“Is it weird?” Lucy asked, her curiosity obvious. “Having your mom as your manager?”

“I never really thought about it,” I said, shrugging. “It’s always been that way. When we moved away after the divorce, she was already handling all my schedules and practices. It just sort of... evolved from there.”

“Do you miss her?” Mina’s voice softened, no teasing, just a gentle curiosity.

I sighed, the question catching me off guard. “Honestly? It’s been nice having some space. She couldn’t stop talking about my knee, about how I needed to get back on the ice. It’s like she doesn’t know what to do with herself if I’m not skating.”

“That would get old fast,” Mina agreed with a sympathetic smile.

“Yeah, it really did,” I said, appreciating the distance from it all. For the first time in a long while, I could breathe without worrying if I was letting someone down.

The conversation shifted after that, and soon we were all laughing again as Mina told us about her latest wedding-planning disaster—because, of course, there’s always something.

Before I knew it, we were back at our building, heading up in the elevator.

“So, it’s Monday night,” Lucy said, her grin widening like she was about to make a really good point. “None of us have to work tomorrow, and the guys are busy. You know what that means?”

I shook my head, clueless, watching as she and Mina exchanged a look.

“Girls’ night!” Mina squealed, her excitement practically vibrating in the air.

“Girls’ night?” I echoed, frowning slightly, still trying to wrap my head around what that actually meant.

“Oh, you have no idea what you’ve been missing,” Lucy teased, flinging an arm around my shoulders like we’d been friends for years instead of days. “It’s sacred. We eat junk food, drink cocktails, and watch chick flicks until we pass out from a sugar coma.”

“And this is… fun?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to be intrigued or terrified.

“Uh, yeah!” Lucy said, like I’d just asked if the sky was blue.

“I’m not really much of a drinker,” I admitted, feeling a little awkward all of a sudden.

“Lightweight or just don’t like it?” Lucy asked, her curiosity sharpening like she was about to dissect me.

“Neither, really. I just… never really had the chance. Training and alcohol don’t mix, and I was always in bed by nine.” I could feel the heat creeping up my neck, my embarrassment showing through the words.

Mina’s eyes went wide, like I’d just confessed to living under a rock. “Wait, you’ve never had a drink?”

“Not really,” I mumbled, suddenly feeling like I didn’t belong in this conversation at all.

“No moral objections or anything?” Mina asked, her voice teasing but still full of genuine curiosity.

“No, I just… never got around to it,” I said, trying to brush it off but already feeling the weight of my own weirdness.

Mina grinned, practically glowing with excitement. “Well, no bedtime tonight! You in?”

I hesitated. The idea of drinking for the first time made me nervous. But the way their enthusiasm was lighting up the room—well, it was kind of infectious. “Yeah, okay,” I said, even though I had no idea what I was getting myself into.

“Great! We’ll be right over with the provisions!” Mina practically dragged Lucy into their apartment, leaving their door wide open as they disappeared inside, their voices floating back out into the hallway.

"Mina, let’s get the movies! What’s the vibe?" Lucy’s voice called from inside, pulling me into their whirlwind without even asking.

I leaned against the doorframe, watching them with a grin. Lucy was already ransacking their kitchen, piling snacks and bottles into a laundry basket like she was gearing up for some epic battle. “What kind of movies do you like?” she asked, still rummaging around, not even looking up.

“I’m not picky,” I said, laughing at how absurdly fast she was moving.

“Perfect! Chick flicks it is!” she declared, holding up a bag of chips like she’d just discovered treasure.

“Wait, are we really watching all of those?” I asked as Mina emerged from the bedroom with a stack of DVDs taller than her head. It looked like enough to keep us glued to the screen for a week.

“No, but it’s good to have options,” Mina said with a wink, tossing the cases into the basket like she had it all figured out.

“Alright, give us a sec to change into some sweats, and we’ll be over,” Lucy said, already heading to her bedroom with her spoils.

“Sweats, Mina?” I teased, raising an eyebrow. “Do you even own any?”

“It’s girls’ night, Y/N. Concessions must be made,” she replied, pretending to be scandalized.

Back in my apartment, I changed into fleece pants and my old Team USA hoodie, pulling on a pair of fuzzy slipper socks. I wasn’t sure if I was ready for whatever this was, but I was definitely curious. The second I stepped into the living room, I was hit with the full blast of their “party zone” transformation. Mina was fiddling with the DVD player, while Lucy was already setting up the counter with snacks and drinks, making a delightful symphony of chaos in the kitchen.

A wicked grin spread across my face. Emily would flip if she saw this junk food carnival. Tonight was about firsts—first girls’ night, first chick flick binge, first cocktail, first indulgence in all the things I’d never let myself have. I was ready to enjoy it all.

“So, what’d you start us off with?” I asked, as Lucy tossed a bag of Doritos to Mina, who caught it in mid-air with a triumphant grin.

“Well, we’ve got to save our tearjerkers for later,” Mina said with a mischievous smile. “I thought we’d kick things off with How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days. Gotta get the laughs and the man candy going early, you know?”

“Mmm… McConaughey…” Lucy sighed dreamily, stretching out like a cat. “That man makes me miss Southern boys.”

“Hey, you could’ve snagged yourself a Texan. You and Jimin both went to Texas Tech,” Mina giggled, throwing a pillow at Lucy.

“Taehyung more than makes up for the lack of an accent,” Lucy shot back with a smirk.

“Uh, speaking of accents…” I chimed in, still trying to shake the sound of Dr. Jeon’s voice from earlier.

“Oh my God, Y/N!” Mina burst out laughing, catching on immediately. “I should’ve warned you about my dad. Isn’t his accent hilarious? I’m used to it, but even now, sometimes it catches me off guard.”

“That man is like sex on a stick at the State Fair,” Lucy added, already heading back to the kitchen for more drinks.

“Lucy!” I exclaimed, feeling my face heat up like a furnace.

“Just admit it, Y/N—Dr. Jeon is drool-worthy,” Lucy teased, her grin so mischievous it was practically glowing.

“Yeah, he’s good-looking,” I stammered, trying to maintain some semblance of composure. “But isn’t he, like, practically your future father-in-law?”

“Exactly,” Lucy said, holding up her drink like she’d just won a gold medal. “Gives me a glimpse into my future, and it’s looking damn good twenty-five years down the road.”

I blinked, trying to process the absurdity of the conversation. “I’m sure Mina doesn’t appreciate you associating her father with… well, that.”

“Stop being such a nun, Y/N. I know my dad’s a DILF,” Mina said, so casually I almost choked.

“A what?” I asked, horrified but somehow intrigued.

Mina and Lucy exchanged a knowing glance. “Oh, sweet summer child,” Lucy sighed dramatically. “DILF stands for ‘Dad I’d like to—’”

I choked on my chip before she could finish, coughing like I’d just swallowed a firecracker. My face was even hotter now.

“Didn’t need that visual, thanks,” I muttered, half-laughing, half-wincing.

Mina patted me on the back, giggling like she couldn’t contain herself. “Oh, Y/N, you’re just too much fun to corrupt.”

“You underestimate the power of the Dark Side,” Lucy added, her voice dropping into a low, Darth Vader impression, complete with heavy breathing.

“Mina, there is no place for Star Wars geekery at Girls’ Night,” Mina interjected with a mock-serious tone, like she was the gatekeeper of some sacred tradition.

“Mina, there’s always a place for Star Wars geekery,” Lucy shot back, turning to me for backup, her eyes wide with earnestness. “Right, Y/N?”

“Uh, sure?” I replied, suddenly feeling very much like I was in a conversation I hadn’t quite signed up for.

“You’ve seen it, right? Star Wars?” Lucy asked, her disbelief written all over her face.

“Actually… no,” I winced, bracing for the fallout.

Lucy gasped like I’d just told her I’d never seen the sun rise. “OH. MY. GOD!” she screamed, the force of her voice almost knocking me over. She dropped her drink onto the counter with a clang. “Are you kidding me? Mina, go get my special editions! We need to fix this now!”

“No way!” Mina shot back, hands on her hips like some kind of movie-critic superhero. “Girls’ Night equals chick flicks, not galactic battles.”

“Hey, The Empire Strikes Back is very romantic,” Lucy protested, her voice full of conviction.

“Yeah, until someone gets their hand sliced off with a lightsaber,” I countered, feeling a little bolder now.

“Whatever, you uncultured heathen,” Lucy rolled her eyes, throwing her hands up dramatically. “Soon, Y/N. I’ll fix this, I swear.”

Lucy handed each of us a glass as she emerged from the kitchen, and Mina reached for the remote. “We ready?” Mina asked, settling in next to me, a mischievous grin spreading across her face.

“Yup, everything’s prepped,” Lucy said, raising her glass like she was about to make a grand speech. “Alright, ladies, a toast—to the first of many Girls’ Nights with our new BFF, Y/N.”

“And to getting Y/N tipsy enough to spill all her secrets,” Mina added, making me laugh mid-sip.

“Cheers!” we clinked glasses, and I took a cautious sip of what I thought was water but tasted like pure fire. The burn hit me so fast, I practically choked.

“That’s disgusting! How do you guys drink this stuff?” I gasped, pushing the glass away as my throat burned like it had just met lava.

“It’s an acquired taste,” Lucy said with a grin, clearly enjoying my suffering. “Next round, I promise something fruity.”

Mina snapped her fingers at Lucy. “Make the woman a Kami!”

“So demanding,” Lucy sighed, but a few moments later, she handed me a frothy, pink drink. “Try this. You’ll like it.”

I took a cautious sip, surprised to find it actually tasted good. The burn was still there, but it was wrapped in this sweet, tangy burst of raspberry. I took another sip, feeling warmth spread through me like I’d just been wrapped in a blanket of comfort.

“Good, right?” Lucy prompted, watching me carefully, her grin not quite hiding her excitement.

“Really good,” I nodded, a little more confidently this time, taking a bigger drink.

“Just pace yourself,” Mina warned, raising an eyebrow. “There’s more alcohol in those than it tastes.”

Hours flew by in a blur of movies, laughter, and progressively more ridiculous makeovers. By the time we finished Clueless, I was sprawled across the couch, my head resting in Lucy’s lap with Mina snuggled up against my legs. The room felt warm and familiar, and—surprisingly—comfortable. Like I belonged.

“The night’s still young! What’s next?” Lucy stretched, her voice muffled by the pillow she was hugging to her chest.

“Leo!” Mina shouted, her eyes practically sparkling. “The night isn’t over until we’ve seen Leo!”

Lucy popped in Titanic and grabbed another drink from the kitchen, moving just a little slower now, like the alcohol was finally starting to catch up. “Anyone else?”

“I shouldn’t—” I started.

“Nonsense!” Mina interrupted, poking me in the side with a wicked grin. “You’re still way too coherent for a proper Girls’ Night.”

Rolling my eyes, I accepted the glass she handed me. “Fine. But if I pass out, I’m blaming you.”

By the time Jack was sketching Rose, I’d stopped keeping track of the drinks, and the night had dissolved into fits of laughter and way-too-drunk confessions. At one point, Lucy and Mina reenacted the “I’m flying” scene, nearly knocking over the wine bottle in the process.

But as the movie stretched into the early hours, I found myself comfortable—maybe too comfortable, considering how much I’d indulged. As the credits rolled, Mina turned to me, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

“Okay, real talk, Y/N. Never?” Lucy asked, her voice serious but with that mischievous gleam in her eyes that I knew meant she was circling back to the topic she was clearly obsessed with.

“Nope,” I said, crossing my arms like some sort of rebellious fortress. I wasn’t budging.

“That’s just... so wrong,” Lucy groaned, her eyes practically rolling out of her head. “Your lady business must be staging a rebellion.”

“There are plenty of people who make it to twenty-four without sex,” I said, rolling my eyes like I was offering them the most obvious truth in the universe.

“Yeah, but you’re hot!” Mina chimed in, her hands waving around like she was making a dramatic point. “Guys should be lining up for you!”

“I’d jump you,” Mina added with a grin, her finger lazily plucking at the fuzz on my pants like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“Thanks, Mina,” I laughed, genuinely amused. “That’s true friendship right there.”

“You’re welcome,” she replied, her expression pure contentment, like she’d just solved world peace.

“I don’t know what to tell you guys,” I admitted, my thoughts briefly flickering to Jungkook. “I just never really had the opportunity.”

“There’s gotta be at least one hot male figure skater you could’ve, you know, jumped in the weight room,” Lucy teased, her tone teasing but somehow still playful.

“Lucy, some people actually use the gym for exercise,” I shot back, feeling like I was dodging a slow-motion car crash.

“Oh, believe me, Y/N, I use it for recreational purposes,” Lucy quipped, her grin devilish. “My idea of ‘recreation’ just doesn’t match yours.”

“Perv,” I muttered, laughing, trying to shield myself from her shenanigans.

"Proud to be one!" Lucy declared, her laughter echoing through the room like a contagious wave.

“We need to find you a guy,” Mina said suddenly, tapping her chin like she was a mastermind concocting a plan for world domination. “Lucy, who do we know?”

“No way!” I held up my hands defensively. “You are not setting me up with anyone.”

“But, Y/N!” Mina protested, as if this was a criminal injustice.

“I can find my own guy if I want to,” I insisted, my thoughts unwillingly drifting to Jungkook. I bit my lip, and it was like they could read me like a book.

“Oh, look at that face!” Mina practically lunged at me. “You met someone, didn’t you?”

“No!” I shot back a little too quickly, feeling the heat of embarrassment climb up my neck.

“You can’t fool us, honey,” Mina said, her voice full of mock disbelief. “That face has ‘crush’ written all over it!” She leaned closer, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Who’s the guy? Is he hot? Is he here? Did you kiss him? Why didn’t you say something earlier?” Her questions were coming at me like a machine gun, and I was about to implode.

“There’s nothing to tell!” I mumbled, sinking deeper into the couch, wishing I could just disappear.

“Y/N!” Mina cried dramatically. “We’ve been with Chim and Tae for years! We need to live vicariously through your romantic escapades!”

“What romantic escapades?” I shot back, trying—and failing—to sound cool and detached.

Lucy raised an eyebrow, her look knowing and challenging. “You’re hiding something boy-related. Spill.”

“Fine!” I groaned, throwing my hands up in defeat. “I met a guy at the airport. We talked for a few minutes while he helped me with my bags. That’s it. Can we move on now?”

“No, we cannot move on!” Lucy said, her eyes practically popping out of her head. “Was he cute?”

“Yeah, I guess,” I shrugged, trying to sound indifferent, but the truth was, I couldn’t stop thinking about him.

“You guess?” Mina echoed, her brow almost disappearing into her hairline.

“I wouldn’t really call him ‘cute,’” I muttered, my face burning as I tried to downplay it.

“Well, what would you call him then?” Mina’s eyes gleamed with excitement. “Hot? Sexy? Drop-dead gorgeous? Fuckhawt?”

“Uh… all of the above?” I finally admitted, which sent them into a squealing frenzy that could’ve shattered glass.

“Did you kiss him? Did you give him your number? When are you seeing him again?” they fired off at me, like they were in some kind of interrogation scene in a rom-com.

“No, I didn’t kiss him, and I didn’t give him my number,” I confessed, biting my lip as I fought to suppress the butterflies. “But, yeah, he suggested we meet up again. That’s all.”

Mina looked at me, her expression downright disappointed. “Why didn’t you give him your number?”

“I don’t know, Mina!” I groaned, burying my face in my hands. “I have no clue what I’m doing when it comes to guys. He didn’t ask for my number, and I wasn’t about to throw it at him if he was just being polite.”

“I’m sure he wasn’t just being polite, Y/N,” Lucy said, her tone dripping with conviction, like she knew something I didn’t.

“Whatever,” I sighed, trying to steer the ship away from that topic. “He was gorgeous and sweet, and yes, he gave me butterflies, but I’ll probably never see him again, so can we please talk about something else?”

Mina leaned back with a dreamy sigh, her eyes practically glowing with unspoken wisdom. “Don’t worry, Y/N. Your butterflies are still out there. You just have to catch them.”

© chimcess, 2025. Do not copy or repost without permission.

Taglist: @smartkookiee @knightofmidnight @mar-lo-pap @jjeonjjk7 @somewhatjungkook @lovingkoalaface @jimineepaboya @iswearimover5feetall @blissingtaehyung @futuristicenemychaos @kooloveys @jenniebyrubies @8thmuse @beattiestreet @tatzzz-25

[i-am-baechu]

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ⋅ᡣ𐭩 ་༘࿐ Welcome Home ⁞ K. Seokjin

⌂ Summary: Jin remembers his life before the military and all it took was a small hello. 

⌂ Paring: Established relationship: Seokjin x Wife! Reader 

⌂ Rating: Explicit (18+) 

⌂ Genre: Established relationship, little angst, fluff and smut 

⌂ Playlist: Rock With You - Seventeen 

Jin was smiling through the Weverse Live and he was with his brothers to make things even better. It was clear how happy he was to be back. When everything was done, he leaned back on the couch and stared at the ceiling with a blank expression. The nerves were finally coming forward and making him sick. He couldn’t tell if it was good or bad nerves. It was something. 

“Hyung, are you okay?” 

He sat up and turned his head towards Jungkook, “Nervous.” 

“Hyung, noona missed you.” 

“I missed her too but...it’s different.” 

Namjoon shook his head and turned towards Jin with furrowed eyebrows, “Y/N is your wife. How can it be different?” 

Before Jin could say something, Yoongi came back into the room putting his phone in his pocket, “My sister is waiting for you. Go see her.” 

Jin sighed and nodded his head, “I know...I’m just nervous.”

“Why-”

“Maybe it’s because he has a baby now.” 

Jin rubbed his forehead harshly and nodded his head, “What happens if I mess up? Jun could hate me if I mess up.” 

Yoongi shook his head and sat next to him on the couch, “You're thinking too much. Parenting is going to be hard no matter what but it's going to melt away when you see him.” 

“It’s not just that...it’s guilt. I couldn’t help Y/N through the early stages and...I left it all up to her. I wanted to be with her through the whole process.” 

Yoongi rubbed his back gently and sighed, “You guys didn’t plan to have Jun. It happens, you get to see his life now and be a part of it.” 

“What if Jun hates me?”

Hoseok shook his head and took a sip of his water, “Y/N shows your picture every night before Jun goes to bed. He doesn’t hate you.” 

Taehyung clapped his hands and stood up wiping the dust off his pants, “Go see the women of your dreams. The nerves will wash away the moment you see her.”

Jimin nodded his head at this, “Y/N misses you. Go see her, she’s been waiting long enough for you.” 

Y/N finished putting the decorations up and smiled proudly to herself. The whole living room was covered in decorations made by Jun and it was very cute. He tried his best to draw but they just came out as blobs but they were cute blobs. She still remembers the day she told Jin that she was pregnant and the pure shock. 

Y/N sat in the bathroom and waited for the test to be done. This was the longest ten minutes of her life. She couldn't be pregnant, they were always careful. The timing is horrible too, Jin was leaving to the military in a month and here she was a newlywed waiting for her pregnancy test. She leaned against their bathroom wall and spaced out. She was scared. 

She heard the beeping noise and she immediately rushed to the small white stick. Her eyes widened and she let out a nervous laugh, “Holy shit...” 

“Y/N! I’m home!” 

She glanced at the door and then back at the test. She has to tell the father but how is she gonna tell Jin? She put the test in her back pocket and fixed herself in the mirror, “Coming!” 

She walked outside and smiled at him. He just finished filming something for his solo and he was dressed in a cute sweater. She loved it when he wore the oversized sweaters. It made her heart flutter. Jin turned towards her and smiled, “Where were you?”

“I had to go to the bathroom...do you want spaghetti tonight?” 

He raised his eyebrow at this and shrugged his shoulders, “Sure.”

“You know there's this sauce called prego.”

He let out a small laugh and nodded his head, “I��m aware.”

“What if I said I was prego?”

Jin dropped his phone and he turned towards her with wide eyes, “What?” 

“Prego?” 

Y/N walked into Jun’s room and lifted him up from his crib. She kissed his chubby cheek and smiled, “It’s time to meet Daddy. I know he’s nervous to meet you. Just be patient with him.” Jun let out a small giggle and Y/N couldn’t help but the warmth in her chest erupts, “He’s going to fall in love with you the moment he sees you.” 

They walked into the living room and Y/N sat on the couch with Jun in her arms. He was playing with her hair as put on calming music for him, “Jun, no pulling hair. That hurts mommy.” 

Jun patted Y/N’s chest and she frowned at this, “I just fed you...Are you still hungry?” 

Jun didn’t say anything but patted their chest again. She sighed and pulled down her shirt and bra for Jun. She gently brought him to her nipple and she leaned back on the couch. She closed her eyes for a second when she heard the door close. She snapped her head towards the door and smiled, “Jin!?” 

“Darling? Where are you?”

“I’m in the living room with Jun.”

Jin took a deep breath and put his bags on the floor. He made his way towards the living room and his eyes softened at the scene. All the nerves disappeared when he saw the women that he loved feeding their child. She looked so beautiful at this moment and he walked slowly towards her, “Jin? Did you hear what I said?” 

He kneeled in front of her and his finger gently touched Jun’s cheek. A small tear appeared and he looked up at her, “This is the happiest I've ever been. I missed you guys so much.” 

Y/N fought back the tears and leaned forward placing a kiss on his forehead, “We missed you too.” 

Jun released her nipple and turned towards Jin with curious eyes. His tiny hands grabbed the collar of his shirt and Jin let out a small laugh, “Hi, baby. It’s me, your daddy.”

“Do you want to hold him?”

“Can I?”

Y/N let out a small laugh and nodded her head, “He’s your son, of course, you can hold him.”

She gently passed Jun into his arms and it was clear that he was natural. It warmed her heart to see him holding Jun. It’s been months since the last time he saw them. Jin glanced back at Y/N and smiled at her, “Hey.”

“Hey.”

They both let out a small laugh and he leaned forward giving her a quick kiss, “My wife, I missed you.”

“I missed you so much more.”

He glanced down and let out a small cough. He looked away with shame on himself, “I didn’t mean to look...”

“What?” She glanced down and realized that breast was still out and she let out a small laugh. She fixed herself up and leaned forward placing a kiss on his nose, “You’ve seen them before.” 

“I know but I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable.” 

She shook her head and wrapped her arms around his neck (not squishing Jun in the process), “You can never make me uncomfortable.” 

He smiled at her and glanced down at Jun with a frown, “I was nervous to come home.”

“Talk to me.”

He glanced at her and then back at Jun, “I was nervous that I wouldn’t be a good father...I thought Jun would hate me to be honest.” 

“He could never hate you. You’re here now, that’s what matters.” 

“Seeing you with him...it made all the nerves wash away. I love you so much, Kim Y/N.”

“I love you Kim Seokjin.” 

He sat on the edge of the bed and looked around the room with a smile, “Nothings changed.” 

She looked up from her phone and she let out a small laugh, “I wouldn’t change anything without your permission.” 

“I like this picture of Jun, he looks so cute.”

She sat up from her side and crawled towards him. She draped her arms over his wide shoulders and gently ran her hands over his chest, “That was his first time home. I wanted to take a picture of your purple jacket with him.” 

Jin glanced away from the picture and then back at her, “I missed you guys much.” She kissed the back of his neck and nuzzled her head into his, “We missed you too.” 

His body leaned back into her touch and smiled. Her fingertips made an undefined shape on his bare skin and his breathing became shallow. She removed her hand and crawled back into bed. He turned his head and she gave him a small smile, “Do you want your welcome home gift?” 

“I thought Jun was...”

She let out a small laugh and shook her head, “Part of it.” 

“Sure I want my gift.”

“Then come and get it.”

He crawled towards her until he was covering her fully. He leaned down and kissed her lips fully. His lips part, running his tongue over hers as she moaned into his mouth. His arms hooked around her waist and he brought her closer, “Take off your shirt.”

“Whatever you want.” 

She took off her white shirt and his eyes landed on her breast. His hands palm at her breast and he leaned down, taking a nipple into his mouth. His tongue flicked at the bud and her back slowly arched at the feeling, “Jin...” 

Thank god she doesn’t wear anything underneath her bedtime shirt to bed. 

His fingers pushed through her slick folds and rubbed circles on her needy clit, “I love you so much.”

“I-I love you more.” 

Jin quickly took his boxers off and she stared at the stiff cock in front of her. It’s been a while since they had sex so this was kind of nerve-wracking but she wouldn’t want it any other way. He brought his head and playfully smacked her clit as she let out a struggled moan, “Sen-Sensitive.” 

“Is my wife sensitive? Is it because she gave birth to our son? What a good mom.”

Y/N moaned at this and turned her head away in embarrassment, “D-Don’t say things like that.” 

Jin let out a small chuckle and aligned his head to her entrance, “I don’t mean to tease you baby but I just missed you so much.”

“I miss- OH Jin!” He thrusted slowly into her and there was a small burn when she felt him stretch her out. She whimpered out when she remembered how big he was and closed her eyes from the pain. He cursed under his breath and leaned forward, placing a kiss on the tip of her nose, “Are you okay?”

“Just give me a moment.”

“Anything for you.” 

He kissed her and she returned the kiss with the same amount of passion. She clenched around him and he glanced down and then back at her, “Do you want me to move?” 

“Yes...please.” 

He pulled out of her and saw just how wet she was for him. He let out a small groan and he slid back in, slowly. Her legs tightened around his waist as she covered her mouth, “F-Fuck.” 

Jin watched her breast move with each thrust and he never realized how big they got because of Jun. He didn’t want to look like a pervert but fuck his wife looked so hot in her mom body. He leaned forward and swallowed her loud moans, “I missed this. I missed you.” He folded her body in half with his hands resting on her knees as he moved faster, “J-Jin!” 

“So fucking good.” He closed his eyes and then he opened them. He placed a kiss on calf and smirked at her, “I bet you didn’t touch yourself while I was gone.” 

“N-NO...”

“Too busy taking care of Jun. What a good mommy.” 

“Don’t call-call me that.” 

His fingers reached down and started to rub fast circles at her clit. A loud gasp left her lips and he couldn’t help but smirk, “Why does it turn you on more?” 

“N-No-”

“Come on my cock! I can feel it, come all over me!” 

She gripped his arms with her nails etching into his solid arms. He missed this, the closeness of each other. He could never be away from her. Never again. She closed her eyes and he felt the wetness increased. He groaned at the feeling and he couldn’t help but feel pride through his body. He felt her pleasure down his knees and cursed under his breath, “Fuck, I’m coming, baby.” 

His cock harshly throbs within her and she feels his body trembling. He falls on top of her as she wraps her arms around his body. He kissed her shoulder and smiled to herself, “I love you so much.”

She let out a small laugh and kissed the top of his head, “I love you more.”

A small cry erupted on the baby monitor and Y/N let out a small laugh, “I think we woke up Jun.”

“I think you woke him up.” 

“Shut up.” He kissed the side of her head again and slowly removed himself. She let out a small moan when she felt his come slip out. She tilted her head at him and gave him a confused look, “Where are you going?” 

“I’ll get our son. I need to make up time and then when I come back, I’ll clean you up.” 

She nodded her head and she moved her body into the pillows, “Hurry up, I'll miss you. Oh and Jin.”

“Yeah?”

“Welcome home.”

[fabydoll]

ILLICIT | TEASER. coming soon

ৎ ݁ ۪ ⋅ Ꮚ dilf, cop, taehyung x teenage milf, fem reader

ϑϱ⭒ ݁ sum ৎ ݁ ۪ after the murder of two people so dear to your heart, in front of your own eyes, your left broken and all alone, but who better to make you feel loved and cared for than an officer of the law...

ϑϱ⭒ ݁ starring ৎ ݁ ۪ kim taehyung ⟡ kim jennie ⟡ kim namjoon ⟡ choi tzuyu, ect 𓂅ﾞ

ϑϱ⭒ ݁ cw ৎ ݁ ۪ AU, infidelity ౨ৎ murder ౨ৎ drugs ౨ৎ cheating ౨ৎ power imbalance ౨ৎ underage pregnancy ౨ৎ pregnant sex ౨ৎ cock warming ꒰sorta꒱ ౨ৎ reverse cowgirl ౨ৎ lactating kink ౨ৎ ephebophilia౨ৎ underage sex ౨ৎ illict, illegal relationship ౨ৎ hints to a daddy/daughter kink

Taehyung stood in front of your tattered apartment door, knocking. The acrid smell of a recently smoked and lit cigarette lingered in the air, shoving a muscular, veiny hand into the pocket of his long, heavy dark brown winter coat, his police badge being the only thing that brought any color to the otherwise bleak and lifeless hallway, eyeing his somber and desolate surroundings that were your apartment complex.

You lived here?

Thinking back on your condition and the fact that you’re only a young teenage girl—a young pregnant teenage girl—a part of him, the fatherly part of him, couldn’t help but feel so sympathetic, empathetic to your situation. You must feel so scared, alone, just like the same broken young girl whose pleas and begging not wanting to go to jail somehow found a way to pull on his heartstrings.

If he was being honest, he should care as much as he did.

But you made him care, so much.

“Miss Y/N, hope I wasn’t bothering you,” Taehyung said, his velvety voice sounding nurturing, fondly looking at your slumbering state, like you were the cutest thing his eyes had ever laid on. You rubbed your doe eyes; you were beyond adorable. “Of course not, Mr. Kim, I was just taking a little after-school nap,” you softly yawned, stretching your tired limbs, looking up at the taller, older man and giving him a sweet sleepy smile.

“I see,” he said, fondly smiling back at you. Mr. Kim was ever so beautiful, especially when he smiled, looking like a gorgeous matinee idol. You could never tell he was in his late thirties; you softly blushed. “Anyways, I came to check on you. Your case worker, Mrs. Choi, informed me that you hadn’t checked up on her calls lately. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

And see your beautiful smiling face again.

“Oh,” you formed an “oh” with your plump, plush pink lips as Taehyung tried his best to avoid looking at, you’re blooming and blossoming cleavage that your oversized low-cut t-shirt offered a tantalizing view of. “I must have dozed off; being pregnant can be so trying sometimes,” you hummed, daintily placing a hand on your 4-week-old tummy bump. Taehyung softly nodded, eyes on your tummy “I image it would be hard.”

The two of you just stared at each other for a moment, for what seemed like eternity, just gazing into each other’s starry eyes, like you were in reverie, daydreaming, waiting, albeit nervously, for the other to make a move. Taehyung awkwardly cleared his throat, breaking the moment as he began, “Um, do you maybe want to go out for a walk together?” You blushed again but nodded, smiling.

“I would love to.”

꒰ 8:12 pm ₊˚⊹ᰔ ── apricity 𝜗𝜚

It was a chilly evening with crystal clear snowflakes falling from the heavens, daintily snowing down onto you two as you walked side by side, hands softly brushing against one another every now and then as you strolled around the neighborhood, which was covered in snow, looking like a gloomy but beautifully melancholic winter wonderland.

It was peaceful and calming; the two of you just strolled around. Taehyung reached into his pockets, taking out his thick leather gloves and slipping his equally thick and large hands in, as well as lighting up a cigar.

You watched him almost hypnotically, Taehyung feeling your curious and innocent gaze just deeply chuckled as he took a drag. “You wanna try some?” he called out, a chilly smoke-filled fog airing out as he offered it to you. You coughed and hesitantly took it.

You took the itsy bitsy, tiny drag you could possibly take before passing it back to him, as you started to air out cute little puffs of air, a fond chuckle ringing in your ear. Taehyung took it from your small hands and took another long drag. “So how’s school? Heard you were in your last year of high school.” You gently hummed, “Yeah, it's going fine. I actually just started my senior year.”

“Hmm”

“Yeah, I was pretty excited about it too, until you know,” you looked down at your pregnant belly. Sighing, you gave your tummy little gentle, soft rub as you continued in much softer tone “I never expected to get pregnant at such a young age, you know? I had my whole life ahead of me, I had dreams and hopes, but then again maybe it happened for reason, a reason that I sometimes believe was so I could still have someone by my side, like an angel looking after me, now that I'm. . . all alone.”

You tried your best to suppress the tears that threatened to cascade down your pale, rosy, ruby red cheeks. Taehyung frowned seeing you cry, it hurt for an odd reason he couldn’t quite fully explain, you still managed to look so breathtakingly beautiful, Taehyung pulled you closer laying his head on top of yours, a strong, muscular arm around your small shoulders. As he rocked you back and forth, like a loving father trying to coo their crying child, comforting you with nothing more but soft, warm words in a deep mellifluous, euphonious tone, his words as sweet and as warm as a hot cup of cocoa.

The snow continued to fall on both of you, as you were wrapped, engulfed in, Taehyung’s warm embrace your tears slipping down your cheeks and socking into Taehyung’s coat, his sweet-smelling cologne and strawberry scent, somehow calming and soothing you, as Taehyung gentle let go, he entwined his lager hands with your smaller. You two just stood there for a moment hands twinned together, it was quite picturesque scene with beautiful snowy backdrop.

“You wanna go out for some hot cocoa? My treat” he cooed, a hand pushing back a strand of your hair out of your angelic tear-stricken face.

“It would my pleasure.” You sniffed, smiling warmly up at him.

𝜗℘ㅤׁㅤ. . taglist . . . @taevestr, @tan-veee, @nm4565natty

꒰ ၇୧ ⠀ᅟ𓈒⠀note, if you want to be added to the taglist you must comment ⠀⠀⁺ ꒱

[whyse7vn]

BABY FEVER -

[ ot7 x reader ]

TAEHYUNG -

tae: have my cubs

y/n: STOP TALKING TO ME NOW

tae: i want 8

y/n: i’ve actually never been so srs in my life

let’s break up

like fr

i’m over this relationship i’m over you

tae: i can settle for 5 if it’s too much

y/n: let’s settle for a break up

tae: our little family 🥺

y/n: i would rather shoot myself

tae: why?

y/n: WHY?

are you really asking my why rn?

tae: yeah??

y/n: “have my cubs”

tae: i can’t get pregnant what is wrong with you

someone didn’t go to school 😭😭

y/n: who in their right mind says shit like that

tae: me??

y/n: stop talking to me

tae: babe

i’m being for real

y/n: i know

and i’m scared

tae: don’t be scared

i’ll protect you

and the kids

real alpha i am

y/n: stop

tae: are you getting emotional?

omg are you pregnant rn?????

hormones and that stuff?

is that what you wanted to say this whole time??

were you trying to hide it from me??

ur so cute >.<

y/n: i’m blocking you now

tae: we are gonna get through this together

do you think we need a bigger house?

y/n: genuinely are you ok in the head?

tae: ofc wtf??

i know ur not because of the pregnancy

but it’s okay

you don’t need to stress at all

i’ll think for the both of us

the love of ur life taetae be the sane one for the next 6 months

y/n: there is so much to unpack there

tae: omg have you been clothes shopping without me >.<

y/n: i am perfectly fine

you and sane don’t belong in the same sentence

never call yourself taetae again

and it’s 9 months not 6 you fucking idiot

tae: what is ur actual problem??

don’t swear around my child you’ll poison their mind

and i think i know more about babies than you do so just leave everything to me ok?

y/n: again i would rather shoot myself

tae: if you die i’ll protect the baby

y/n: there is no baby

tae: are you not ready to be a mother or something?

i swear we can do this babe

y/n: are you actually listening to me??

tae: ofc i am??

y/n: …

tae: i’m omw home btw can’t wait to see you both!!!!!!!

y/n: it’s like you only take in the information you want to hear

tae: i love you too

y/n: or maybe you just can’t read

tae: <333333333

YOONGI -

yoongi: no

y/n: i don’t like when you read my mind like that

yoongi: no

y/n: i’m gonna ask anyways

yoongi: no

y/n: let’s have a baby 😁🙏🏽

yoongi: no

y/n: if we don’t have a baby now ur gonna be an old dad

ur gonna die before our baby turns 10

we don’t want that do we?

think of all the precious memories you’ll miss

yoongi: i’m fine with that

y/n: are you really?

yoongi: …

no

y/n: let’s have a baby rn

yoongi: but that’s so much work

y/n: #inittogether

our little baby made out of our love for each other

isn’t that sososoos cute yoongi 🥺

yoongi: i guess

y/n: so we’re having a baby?

yoongi: go away

y/n: ur not saying no

i’m taking this as a yes

i continue to win in this life

yoongi: what if you die before me

and i’m left with a baby?

y/n: the old thing really got to you huh?

yoongi: no i’m just saying you might die first

y/n: there is no way i’m dying first

ur literally 30

yoongi: and???

y/n: like jin is ur age mate that’s saying aLOT

yoongi: ur pissing me off

y/n: okay old bitch

yoongi: you expect me to have children with you after you bully me??

y/n: pls put me in ur will

i’m in jin’s yk?

yoongi: why are you in jin’s will?

y/n: why? mad ur not?

yoongi: how do you know i’m not

in his will?

matter of fact why tf does he have a will??

y/n: aren’t you an inquisitive one

yoongi: saying big words doesn’t make you look smart

y/n: jin knows it’s almost his time

you better start writing yours

yoongi: leaving everything to holly

y/n: i’ll literally cook holly

yoongi: what is wrong with you

y/n: i am not with child rn

that’s what’s wrong

yoongi: that sounded gross

never say that again

y/n: i’ve come to the conclusion that ur my biggest enemy

yoongi: i’m glad you know

y/n: ur dying

yoongi: ur next

y/n: don’t ever say that

i’m literally in my prime

yoongi: ur prime?

couldn’t tell

y/n: find someone else to carry your children

i can no longer stand the idea of mini yous running around

yoongi: ok :(

y/n: ??

don’t frown at me

you brought this on urself

yoongi: 😔

y/n: you bitch

yoongi: come make a baby with me 😄

NAMJOON -

y/n: let’s have a child

namjoon: ok

y/n: i lied

namjoon: oh

y/n: what is wrong with you

namjoon: what is wrong with you?

y/n: did adding a question mark make you feel better bitch??

namjoon: very

y/n: this is why i lie to you

namjoon: that’s not nice

y/n: ur literally a nasty little gaslighter

namjoon: i’m not?

y/n: you are?

namjoon: if anything ur the gaslighter

y/n: fake claims i’ll sue

namjoon: you tell me you want to have children and then you tell me ur lying or you never said that

y/n: what is ur actual issue i’ve never said i want kids??

if you want kids ig we can talk about it but i’ve literally never brought that up

namjoon: see?

y/n: i see very clearly actually 20/20 vision the eye people told me

namjoon: you wear glasses?

y/n: occasionally

like what is ur issue?

ur so obsessed with me it’s not right

namjoon: ig i’m a little obsessed

y/n: it’s really not right

wait…

don’t you fucking wear glasses

what is ur issue four eyes???

namjoon: i do

i’ve never claimed to have 20/20 vision

y/n: ur blind as hell

namjoon: maybe i don’t want to have kids with you

they fr won’t be able to see anything

y/n: HOW DARE YOU SAY YOI DONT WANT KIDS WITH ME

YOURE SICK IN TBE HEAD

namjoon: put ur glasses on

ur spelling stuff wrong

y/n: it’s my charm

namjoon: not wearing ur glasses?

y/n: we need to go on a break

namjoon: how can we go on a break when we have kids to take care of?

y/n: and you say ur not a gaslighter?

what if i was a weak woman and fell for ur sick lies

namjoon: we would have kids by now

y/n: ur messed up

that’s so messed up

namjoon: shoot me

y/n: don’t say stuff like that

cuz i will

then you’ll be mad

and dead

namjoon: what are you bothering me for?

y/n: can i not just message my bf like omg?

namjoon: you miss me or something?

y/n: not anymore

namjoon: cute

y/n: fuck ur cute

namjoon: accepting a compliment won’t kill you yk?

y/n: stop communicating with me

namjoon: you messaged me first?

y/n: no i didn’t

namjoon: whatever

y/n: omg don’t speak to me like you hate me i’ll kms

namjoon: so kids?

y/n: idk what ur on about tbh

namjoon: fine

y/n: fine

namjoon: fine?

y/n: fine?

namjoon: idk what you want from me

y/n: children

namjoon: you stop communicating with me

y/n: wow

namjoon: yeah

y/n: ur a LOSER

SEOKJIN -

jin: it’s time we reproduce

y/n: no

jin: no?

this would be a blessing to many

y/n: ok??

jin: ok?

i’ll just kms then

if you hate me just say that

y/n: i hate you

jin: what is ur problem???

y/n: what’s urs??

you told me to say it

jin: i said if you hate me

IF

y/n: ???

jin: oh my god

leave me alone

y/n: oh my god by gidle

jin: you have to stop speaking to hobi

y/n: why :(

jin: ur starting to talk like him

and it’s gross

the mother of my children a hoseok clone??

no thank you

y/n: what children??

jin: you need to keep up

we are having kids

y/n: but you said mother of your children

like as in you have kids rn

and last time i checked i never gave birth

who is this other woman seokjin???

jin: ew why would you say my full name like that

y/n: why would you cheat on me?

jin: bored?

y/n: all men are the same

jin: i am like no other man

y/n: true you dumb as hell

jin: now ur talking shit

y/n: maybe the shit talks you

jin: what

y/n: what

jin: can we make babies pls

y/n: ew

you actually make me wanna throw up

jin: wtf

this is why i don’t talk to you

y/n: you talk to me everyday?

in fact you loose ur mind if you don’t talk to me for more than 2 hours

jin: you literally have no proof

once again ur talking SHIT

y/n: don’t raise ur voice at me tf

jin: see you would be such a good mother

that’s such a parent thing to say

lowkey got me feeling a little hot and bothered rn 🙈

i’m sorry

you might need to put me in my place again mommy 🙈🙈🙈🙈🙈🙉🙉🙉

y/n: what the fuck

jin: you’re not into it???

y/n: how can you go from talking about children to sex?

jin: don’t say that makes me sound like a perv

y/n: you are a perv

jin: no i’m not

ur just lame

like you need to have sex to have children

i was just helping start the process

y/n: you’ve got like a screw loose or something

jin: stop speaking to me in riddles

or don’t

i do love a smart girl 😉

y/n: stop speaking to me like a bitch in heat

jin: people lame nowadays

by people i mean you

y/n: cry about it

jin: i just might

y/n: good

JUNGKOOK -

y/n: do you want to have a baby?

jk: doesn’t giving birth hurt?

y/n: so?

jk: i don’t want you to get hurt

y/n: life is pain

jk: i’ll give birth

y/n: that’s not how it works

jk: pls let me do it

y/n: ok

jk: thank you

y/n: ur welcome

jk: do you think i’ll look good pregnant?

y/n: idk

jk: will you still love me when i get big?

y/n: i might leave you if you get pregnant

jk: wtf?

y/n: it might creep me out

jk: why wtf

y/n: i don’t want to imagine you pregnant

jk: but our baby ☹���

y/n: i would rather never have kids than see you pregnant

jk: wow

you think i would be that ugly

y/n: i’m sorry

jk: are you?

y/n: ummm

jk: ok then

y/n: we can always adopt

jk: but that’s not my baby

y/n: legally they would be

jk: we won’t have the same spit

y/n: the same spit?

jk: yk like our insides won’t be the same

y/n: ur dna?

jk: yeah my dna

y/n: ur not supposed to have the exact same dna as ur baby anyways

jk: okay but it’s like a mix of us

and a adopted one would have no mix at all

y/n: so what do you want to do?

jk: give birth

y/n: i really don’t think it’s possible babe

jk: i will do it

y/n: sure

jk: why don’t you believe in me?

y/n: i do

jk: act like it

y/n: wooo?

jk: not good enough

y/n: sorry i’m tired

jk: ok?

y/n: fuck you?

jk: i’m about to have a baby and ur talking to me like that?

y/n: i’ll believe it when i see it

jk: so you fr don’t believe in me?

y/n: yeah

not one bit of belief in me

jk: crazy how people switch up

when you want to come back into me and MY babies lives we won’t let you

y/n: i’m crying

honestly

jk: i’m glad

y/n: i’m actually not

i don’t care at all

and that’s the truth

jk: so you just lie for fun

y/n: pretty much

jk: wow

ur crazy

y/n: 4 u

jk: waittt why am i blushing rn 😖

are you in love with me be honest?

y/n: idk…

jk: oh

y/n: embarrassing…

ur just a fuck buddy tbh

jk: for 8 years i’ve been a fuck buddy?

y/n: yur

jk: are you lying to me?

y/n: i could be

jk: i could be pregnant rn

y/n: are you?

jk: no

but i could be

y/n: are you lying to me?

jk: yeah :(

y/n: it’s okay

jk: is it really??

y/n: you don’t want me to answer that

JIMIN -

y/n: i’ve been getting congratulation texts all day today

jimin: omg people are so crazy wtf 😭?

y/n: i’m fr so confused

did we win an award i didn’t know about or something??

jimin: maybe idk lol

y/n: would it be rude if i asked what tf they’re talking about?

jimin: unbelievably rude

don’t do it

i’m for real

y/n: but i wanna know

jimin: just accept the congrats and go

y/n: do you know something i don’t?

jimin: wtf no?

y/n. ur lying

jimin: i’m not

y/n: jimin

jimin: love of my life

apple of my eye

babe

y/n: tell me

jimin: omg i LOVE that song

tell me tell me ttttell me

y/n: now

jimin: sorry idk what ur talking about

hello??

babe?

where did you go?

come back

talk to me

y/n: YOU TOLD PEOPLE I WAS PREGNANT???

jimin: I TOLD YOU NOT TO ASK

WAHT IS WRONG WITH YOU???

y/n: WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT

jimin: i’m preparing people for the future

y/n: ??????????

i’m NOT pregnant

jimin: you will be when i’m done with you ;)

y/n: wtf is wrong with you

jimin: a lot

y/n: i can tell

jimin: do you think i’m ugly be honest

y/n: right now yes

jimin: so you think i’m pretty other times 🥺🥺🥺

let’s have a baby

y/n: no

jimin: okay wtf

why not

y/n: ur literally about to be shipped off

you want to leave me with a baby??

jimin: why would you say that

now i’m upset

i’ll take the baby with me

y/n: …

jimin: no?

y/n: no

jimin: fine

our baby would be lowkey ugly anyways

y/n: excuse me?

jimin: problem?

y/n: why would our baby be ugly??

jimin: i mean…

y/n: you mean????

jimin: ur gonna have to just prove me wrong babe

y/n: ur not funny

jimin: did i make a joke???

y/n: you are the joke

jimin: i actually am not the joke

i never joke

super serious guy park jimin is

super shy too

new jeans core >.<

y/n: i’m done with you

HOSEOK -

y/n: baby?

hobi: me?

y/n: no like an actual baby

hobi: ur having one?

congrats!!!!!

y/n: no??

i’m not having one

hobi: oh

i’m sorry for ur loss

y/n: there was no loss

hobi: oh

was there a gain?

y/n: do you want there to be?

hobi: depends on the gain

y/n: the gain would be a baby

hobi: yikesss

that’s a pretty lame gain

why would i want you to have a baby?

y/n: um because you love me?

hobi: i wouldn’t be the father

i don’t see the point

y/n: ???

why wouldn’t you be the father?

hobi: i thought you were asking me if you could have a baby with someone else

y/n: what?

hobi: what?

i’m confused

y/n: I’M confused

hobi: why are we confused??

y/n: why would i ask you if i could have a baby with someone else???

hobi: feminism?

tho i do think it would be more of a feminist move if you didn’t ask me

ur spirt was in the right place tho

i’m sure the women will forgive you

y/n: what?

hobi: was i wrong??

y/n: what do you think?

hobi: it’s not my place to decide for a strong woman like urself

y/n: get a grip

hobi: grip gotten

y/n: is this ur way of dodging my baby proposal?

hobi: a baby what?

that sounds wrong

tf is a baby doing proposing???

ur a baby like drink milk or something

y/n: are you drunk??

hobi: nooooooooooooooooooooooooo

y/n: so ur tipsy?

hobi: tipsy topsy who cares

y/n: i do

i’m trying to ask you if you want to have a baby with me oh my god

hobi: omg do you love me or something???

that’s so crazy

y/n: bye have fun drinking

hobi: drinking heals me

y/n: that’s concerning

hobi: will i be a good dad

y/n: i’m sure you will

hobi: or will i kill myself due to the stress

y/n: oh

hobi: let’s find out babe

i’m ready

y/n: that did not sound like ready talk to me

we can talk about this tomorrow

hobi: if we think about it what can a baby do that i can’t???

y/n: keep me company

hobi: i do that all the time

do you hate me

if you hate me say 1

if you hate me and want me dead in a ditch by saturday night say 7

y/n: where are you right now?

hobi: jin’s house

i think

y/n: you think?

anyways

that’s the point

i’m all alone a baby would never leave me to go drink with jin

hobi: jin would be dead by the time our baby was born

he’s old

dojn’t tell him i said that

he might kick me out

i would be so upset

like this :cccccccccccc

and this 😭😭😭😪😓😓😓😰😰😨😨

WOAHHH THIJS DRINK HITTING OH MY GOD BABE WOW

FEELS LIKE I JUST DID COKE

OH MY GOF

not that i’ve done cokr befr don’t be scared of me babe

y/n: wow okay!

hobi: babies can’t even dance to dynamite i don’t see why you would want that in ur life

and i totally can dance to dynamite

sO i win

y/n: you are so right babe you go and have fun with jin!

hobi: see ur just so silly

and btw i realllly donnt do coke i swear it

y/n: 7

hobi: OH MY GIF I KNEW ITT