#best purchase in Seoul for sure :))

[sxgakookie]

Summary: You're an author giving a talk for your newest published work, when you're asked a question about your recent engagement to Kim Namjoon. The question gives you an opportunity to relive the chance meeting and the sweet moments that made you fall for your fiancé. Genre: Fluff, Smut (softdom! and idol!Namjoon x reader) Rating/Warnings: Adults Only (Strong language, oral [male and female receiving], riding and missionary sex, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms) Word Count: ~5.6k words

“Our conversation is about to wrap, and I know that we have questions from the audience, but there is one more thing I’d like to mention.” The interviewer, Ji-ah, said with a bright, white smile. “Your recent engagement to Kim Namjoon. I just wanted to say congratulations.” 

“Thank you.” You blushed, not expecting your fiancé to come up in the interview. The audience clapped, with smiles, clearly happy to see you happy. 

“I just wanted to ask, what is that story?” Ji-ah asked. “How did the two of you get together?” 

“Well,” You laughed, thinking back to past moments, like flipping pages in your memory book. You look out into the audience, speaking to everyone there with sparkling eyes. “We met in this beautiful city, actually. It was during my first trip here, to Seoul.” 

You stood in your hotel room, slipping on a newly purchased pair of black patent leather heels, perfect for your planned night out. It was something you were looking forward to, after working all day, signing Korean-language copies of your most recent best seller. Ever since landing in Seoul, you had wanted to explore the city, particularly its art scene, as art has always been a love of yours, wherever you traveled. 

After you slipped on the heels, you did a quick check in the mirror, making sure your makeup, hair and dress were to your liking. You threw on a beige coat for the cold, winter winds outside, and made your way down the hall of the hotel, to meet your driver outside. 

Seoul was beautiful at night, especially when the snow was light and fluffy. Flakes collected on the glass of the backseat window, where you watched the buildings pass by. The streets were illuminated by the soft glow of street lights, and, despite the cold temperatures, people were bracing the weather, still out and about. You sent a quick text to your literary agent, to thank her for getting you into this exhibition opening, barely being able to press send before you had arrived. 

The gallery was small and intimate, with bright white walls and dark, black floors, giving it a modern yet still warm feel. When you entered, a polite employee took your coat for you, and offered you a glass of red wine. You accepted with a smile and a ‘thank you’ in your best Korean, before heading off into the crowd. 

If there were anyone there that you knew, you wouldn’t have noticed with the way your eyes latched to the work of Agnes Martin. Beautiful, minimalist works graced the white walls, etches of grids with a human touch. You stood in front of one, its color a deep blue, and allowed yourself to get lost in the work. 

A man, who had been walking the circumference of the room opposite of you, had met you in the middle, at this deep blue piece. He stood next to you, towering over you with his rather tall height and toned body. He raised his own glass of wine to his lips, and caught glimpses of you out of the corner of his eye, noticing you were doing the same. 

“This one is gorgeous, isn't it?” You finally spoke, being the first to break the ice. 

“Yeah.” He nodded, taking another short sip. “It’s so easy to just get lost in her work.” 

“Mhm.” You hummed in agreement. “Like you’re melting into it.” 

The man turned to face you directly, making the size difference even more pronounced. He had sparkling dark eyes, and thick black hair, styled well. He was more casually dressed than many of the people there, and like yourself, one of the younger attendees, though you felt he was a couple years older than you. 

“I’m Namjoon.” He introduced himself with a smile. It was infectious, you noted, as you mimicked with your own smile. Your eyes flashed to his deep dimples on his cheeks. 

“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Y/N.” 

“Y/N… Y/L/N?” Namjoon asked, his eyes widening. “You just published a book here, didn't you?” 

“I did.” You smiled warmly. “I wasn’t expecting anyone to know me here.” 

“Actually, I had read it only like, a day or two after it came out.” Namjoon explained. “Hidden Places, right? Yeah I um, to be honest, I don’t usually read essay collections but your book may have changed my mind.” 

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” You said. “And also, you’re Kim Namjoon, right? The musician?” 

“Yeah.” He flashed his dimples. “It’s hard to be a stranger sometimes, right?” 

“Definitely.” You laughed. “But, it’s ok. I suppose you get used to it. So, you collect her work?” You asked, your head motioning towards the work. 

“Not yet.” Namjoon said. “That’s why I came tonight, seeing if anything stuck out to me.” 

“And?” You asked. “Did it?” 

“Maybe.” He said, looking back at you. You smiled under his gaze, and there was a moment of pause, as Namjoon’s eyes lingered on you for just a bit. “Do you, uh… Do you collect her work?” 

“Not really.” You shook your head. “But I’m a fan. Just haven’t sold that many books yet, you know?” 

“Right.” He nodded. 

“I read Olivia Laing’s essay about her, and I really became a fan of hers through that.” You mentioned, walking to the next piece together. 

“Yeah?” Namjoon said, his brows raised. “Why?” 

“Because it’s amazing to me how a woman with such a complicated and chaotic life, could create work that’s so… still.” You said, as though talking to yourself. “It’s peaceful. Y’know, sometimes, we say that we try to see ourselves in art, but I don’t think that’s true. I think we try to see our ideal version of ourselves in art. So if we live messy, chaotic lives, we’re drawn to something like this. Peaceful. Simple. Because that’s what we’d like our lives to be.” 

Namjoon listened intensely, his focus on your lips, as if he were reading the words you were speaking directly. 

“Is that what you’d like your life to be?” He asked, with another sip of his wine. 

“Maybe.” You shrugged, before realizing how long you’ve talked. “I’m babbling, sorry.” You blushed.

“No, it’s great.” He confessed. “I think you’re right. Maybe that’s why I like her work, too.. I think I’d like my life to be more simple.” 

“Same.” You laughed together, and sipped your wine. 

You continued chatting throughout the night, content to meet a friend in a new city. Namjoon carried himself with a warmth to him that was so genuine, and it radiated throughout the whole room. Many people came up to speak to him, and you couldn’t tell if he knew each one or not, because he spoke to each person as though they had been friends for years. It was nice, you thought, to meet someone so personable in a world that seems so isolated. 

The night was coming to a close, and tipsy patrons were making their way out of the gallery. Namjoon walked out with you, both of you with your hands in your coat pockets. You could see your breath in the cold air, and your driver parked parallel on the street. 

“It was lovely meeting you. Thanks for keeping me company tonight.” You smiled. 

“Any time.” He responded. “Hey, um… How long are you in the city for?” 

“About a week or so,” You said. “I’m here for work, but my nights are free. Next weekend, I’m leaving for some events in Busan.” 

“While you’re here, I was thinking I could show you around.” Namjoon said. “If you’d like to.” 

“Yeah, for sure.” You nodded. “That would be great.” 

You exchanged numbers, and Namjoon gave a promise to call you. He stood on the sidewalk, and watched you run through the falling snow to the black SUV that was waiting for you. When you closed the door, you could see that he was still there, smiling at you and waving you goodbye. 

“Wow.” Ji-ah smiled. “What a chance meeting, right?” 

“It was.” You said gently. “To be honest, I assumed we’d both be too busy and forget to call each other, or I just thought, ‘Hey, I have a new friend in a new city. Sure, he’s cute, but whatever. It’s fine.’” You laughed, and the audience laughed too. 

“But, he obviously did call.” Ji-ah said with a grin. 

“He did.” You nodded. “Just like he said he would, the very next day. And me, being as oblivious as I am, didn’t realize we weren’t just making plans to ‘hang out.’ I never even considered he had more in mind.” 

“You didn’t realize it could’ve been a date?” Ji-ah laughed, alongside you and the audience. 

“No!” You giggled. “I seriously thought he was just my new friend.” 

“So… What happened?” Ji-ah asked. 

Namjoon glanced at the time on his phone, knowing he was early. The reservations weren’t for another fifteen minutes, and as he watched his own breath escape his lips, he cursed his own excitement for bringing him here this early. But, he wanted to make sure you weren’t waiting for him so, here he was, alone and cold in front of the restaurant. 

He watched as people went about their evening, trying to take his mind off the chills he had. Kids across the street laughed as they played in front of the convenience store, where two men in suits ate instant ramen from cheap to-go bowls, seated in front of the window. Namjoon noted their loose ties, and wondered if they worked together, getting food to decompress after a hard day, or if they just found each other in the same place, at the same time. 

“Hey!” You yelled with a wave, snapping Namjoon out of his daze. You were on the other side of the street, waiting for the traffic light to change. He smiled and waved back, and watched how your hair bounced with every fast step you took across the crosswalk. 

“Hey.” He greeted. “How was your day?” 

“Busy.” You smiled. “Yours?” 

“The same.” He said. “I think it’s almost time for our table to be ready. Let’s get you in from the cold.” 

Namjoon opened the door for you, motioning you in with a playfully exaggerated wave of his arm. You giggled at his antics, and entered the warm, dimly lit restaurant. The building was beautiful, clearly upscale, and not a casual “hang out” spot, like you had assumed. 

“Table for Kim Namjoon.” The host smiled politely, gathering a set of menus in his hands. “Right this way, please.” 

Namjoon followed behind you as the two of you made your way to your table; an intimate, private table near the back of the restaurant. Namjoon politely helped you into your seat, before sitting down across from you. You thanked the host, and then began looking over the pages of the menu. Namjoon, however, was looking at you; the woman who had occupied his mind for the last twenty-four hours. 

“I thought about what you said,” Namjoon finally spoke, causing you to glance at him. “About our lives, and if they’re messy and chaotic, we seek out the opposite.” 

“Yeah? You remember my babbling?” You chuckled. 

“I agree with your babbling.” Namjoon corrected with a dimpled smile. “I think, with my own life, I search for peaceful things to try to balance out the chaos.” 

“And are you successful?” You ask. 

Namjoon just smiled warmly, staring at you, wondering how it’s possible for a woman to be that beautiful. “I’m trying.”  He finally answered. 

Throughout the dinner, you were lost in conversation with Namjoon, and Namjoon was struck by just how easy it felt to be with you. The two of you laughed, enjoyed wine and food, and Namjoon knew with his best instincts that you were someone special. Intelligent, personable, beautiful. The ingredients of the girl of his dreams. He knew you were barely an acquaintance, and he cursed himself for always jumping the gun when it came to love. But he also knew how he felt with you, and he couldn’t ignore it. He wanted to get closer. 

“…So, yeah, I have to go to Busan soon.” You said. “I’m sure it’s lovely there, but I have to admit, I just love Seoul so much.” 

“You could come back.” Namjoon suggested, trying to play it off as a nonchalant thought. “When you’re done with work, just come back and spend some more time here.” 

“Maybe.” You smiled at the thought. “I’ll think about it.” 

“And did you think about it?” Ji-ah questioned, leaning in to hear your answer. 

“I did.” You nodded with a laugh. “But, Namjoon isn’t known for his patience, and came to visit me in Busan instead.” 

“Are you serious?” Ji-ah laughed alongside you. “He went all the way there just to see you again?” 

“He really did. I thought he was out of his mind.” You joked, making the crowd laugh too. “But, in all honesty, it was maybe the most romantic gesture I’ve ever had, and it sealed the deal for a first real date.” 

“Excuse me, Ms. Y/L/N, could you sign my book please? I’m a big fan.” 

“Of course!” You said, not looking up at the man in front of the book signing table as you took his paperback copy. “Who can I make it out to?” 

“Did you really forget me that quickly?” 

You furrowed your brows and looked up, to see Namjoon standing at your table with a goofy, shy grin on his face, and a bouquet of flowers in his hand. Your own smile grew and your eyes widened in surprise as you took him in. 

“Oh my God, seriously? What are you doing here?” You laughed. 

“I wanted you to sign my book.” Namjoon playfully answered. “I…um, I wanted to surprise you, too.” 

“You really made a trip down here, and stood in line to surprise me? It definitely worked, I’m surprised.” You giggled. “And… you have flowers?” 

“For you.” He said, his nerves showing. “For um… It’s to congratulate you, on your book and everything.” 

“Thank you.” You said softly, standing up to take the flowers. “I don’t know what to say, that’s so sweet of you.”  

“We can chat in a minute?” He suggested. “I think I’ve taken up my time in line, some women behind me are getting upset.” 

“Ok.” You giggled. “Let me sign your book though, you came all this way.” 

Namjoon watched with complete adoration in his brown eyes as you scribbled a note onto the page of the book. 

“I’ll meet you in a little bit, ok?” 

“Ok.” He nodded, and walked to the side of the bookstore to look at your note. 

“To Joonie, the sweetest man I know. Love, Y/N.”  

Namjoon grinned ear to ear like a schoolboy with a crush. He was nervous to come to Busan, worried that it was too much, and that you wouldn’t like the gesture. But with the validation little note and a soft laugh, he knew he did the right thing. He watched as you signed the books of the rest of the people in line, and listened to each of them compliment your work. You handled yourself so gracefully, he let his mind drift into places it rarely goes with anyone. Could he let you into his world? The public, the paparazzi… Could you handle it? He can only protect you from so much, with so many things out of his control. It was a long way to that point, but he thought just maybe, you would be the right one for him.  

When you were finished, you went over to him with a wave, just as you had the night of your dinner together. 

“What did you want to chat about?” You asked with a sweet tone. 

“I know this might be a lot but,” He paused, looking into your eyes as you looked up at him. “I’d really like to take you out. If you want to.” 

Your smile slowly creeped on your face, and blush painted the apples of your cheeks. 

“Yeah.” You nodded. “I’d like that.” 

“So yeah, I went out with him.” You smiled, recalling the story. “That first date turned into the two of us going out every night that I was in Busan. We would just meet at places in the city, and spend as much time together as we could.” 

“That’s so cute.” Ji-ah cooed. “I still can’t get over that he went all that way just to see you.” 

“Me either.” You laughed. “But I’m thankful every day that he did.”

“So then, how did the two of you finally become a couple?” Ji-ah asked. “You’re running around Busan together, having fun, getting to know each other… and then what?” 

“Well…” You said, blushing brightly at the memories of that night. 

“I think you’ll love this wine.” Namjoon smiled, walking over to you with a bottle in hand while you sat on the sofa. His hotel suite was more like an apartment, with a spacious living room. He asked you to stay over for the night, after you extended your business trip into a personal vacation, just to stay with Namjoon. You knew it would sound crazy to your friends back home, but being with him just felt right to you. It came so naturally. 

“Yeah?” You answered, watching him sit down next to you and pour a glass. “I really love white wines like this.” 

“I know.” He smiled. Namjoon knew so much about you now. Your favorite foods and drinks, the books you liked and the ones you didn’t. He knew details about your family, and the funny stories of your friends. He told you about himself, too, opening up in a way that usually never comes easy to him outside of his music. 

You snuggled into him with a throw blanket tossed across your legs. Namjoon rested his arm on the back of the couch, allowing you easier access to rest on his shoulder. He smiled when you did, and when you looked up at him, he gave you a soft, slow kiss on the lips. 

You had only kissed Namjoon a couple of times. Your first kiss was at the end of your first date, when he walked you back to your room, and asked permission before moving in a little closer. Ever since, he’s stolen kisses from you whenever he could. He was obsessed with your lips, and how he felt connecting them to his own. His heart raced, and every part of him was begging to get closer. 

“Joonie…” You hummed into the kiss. “I’m happy I’m here tonight.” 

“Me too.” He smiled, deepening the kiss. You gently placed your wine glass down on the coffee table in front of you, so that you could rest your hands on his strong chest, over the soft fabric of his sweatshirt. Namjoon reacted to the touch by placing his own hands on your waist, daring to hold you where your shirt raised up just enough where he could directly feel your skin. 

The kiss never broke. But you found yourself growing braver, moving in closer, wrapping your arms around his neck and letting him position you onto his lap to straddle him. You had never felt so close to him, and both of your bodies were pleading for more…more…more…

“Y/N,” He murmured in the kiss. “I hope you know, I’m not expecting anything tonight.” 

“I know.” You said, kissing him again. “But, do you want to?” 

“I do.” He whispered onto your lips. “But only if you’re ready for it. We don’t have to rush.” 

“But I want to.” You whispered back. “I want you. So, why wait?” 

Namjoon responded with a deep breath for his nerves, followed by a passionate kiss. Deeper and stronger than the ones you’ve felt him give you before. He lifted you off the couch, allowing your legs to wrap around his waist as your arms stayed draped around his shoulders. He carried you through the hotel room, into the bedroom, where he laid you down delicately.

He stared down at you, smiling up at him from the bed. Namjoon quickly tossed his sweatshirt off and onto the floor, revealing his toned body, before helping you out of your own shirt. He swooped down and began kissing down your neck and onto the top of your breasts, his large hands cupped them through your bra. “Can I see a little more of you, honey?” 

“Please.” You answered. Namjoon wasted no time unhooking the back of your bra as you raised yourself for him to do so, and pulled the straps from your arms to show your chest. Before you had time to react, Namjoon’s lips were back on your body, licking and kissing your soft breasts, excited to have them to himself. 

“Baby, you’re so fucking beautiful.” He whispered, in between taking a perky nipple in between his lips. “So… Fucking… Beautiful…” 

“Joonie.” You whimpered. His trail of wet kisses moved down your stomach, until he reached the cotton fabric of your lounge shorts. 

“Can I?” He asked, a finger impatiently on the waistband. You nodded and hummed a ‘mhm’ in consent, lifting your hips to help him reveal just your panties. 

“You’re already so wet for me, honey.” He teased, showing his dimples. Namjoon kissed up your thighs, building anticipation with each soft, wet, slow kiss to your skin. You whined, needing him at your core. He wrapped a strong arm around each thigh, keeping you held down for him. “A little wet mark on your pretty panties, and I’ve barely done anything.” 

“Please.” You whined, and Namjoon pushed the wet fabric to the side, locking eyes with you as he slowly began applying long licks to your opening, before adding pressure and quickening movements of his tongue. You threw your head back onto the bed and let out a gasp, responding to the expert flicks of his tongue by grabbing onto the dark locks of his hair. 

“Joonie… Joonie… Please, baby…” 

He slipped a finger into your opening, breeching you for the first time, as his tongue focused on your clit. Namjoon felt your legs shake, encouraging him to add another finger, listening to the pretty noises leaving your lips. His own length was hard and pressed against the fabric of his sweatpants, aching to be released, but he ignored his own needs. This was about you; the way you gripped the sheets, chanted his name, and tasted so, incredibly sweet. The way you squeezed your eyes shut so tightly when his fingers massaged the places you needed him most, and the way you held his head in place as he gave your sensitive bud loving rolls of his tongue. Namjoon could both feel and hear your orgasm; the heaviness of your breath, the tightening of your opening, the way you dripped on his tongue. 

“That’s my girl.” He praised, nibbling your still trembling legs. He slowly pulled out his long fingers, making you shudder. 

You watched as he stood up to remove his own pants, but before he was able to, you rolled on your tummy to be eye-level with his erection, looking up at his face innocently. Your hands were already at his waistband. 

“Honey, you don’t have to.” 

“But I told you, Joonie. I want you.” You responded, slowly helping him lower his pants, letting them fall to his ankles, followed by his underwear. He kicked them to the side, watching with anticipation as your lips were level with his length. 

You started slow, just content to tease him, and to really feel the size of him. He was large, and you knew he’d fill you well. You began to kiss his sensitive, leaking head, tasting the drops on your tongue. Your lips pressed to him, working a trail down the shaft, then back up again. Namjoon’s large hand was now on your head, not forcing, but gently encouraging you to touch him. His breath was heavy, deep inhales and exhales that were audible as he grew more aroused with how you seemingly worshipped his cock. You looked up at him as you took your time working him into your mouth, your tongue caressing his most sensitive areas. 

“Babygirl… Fuck…” Namjoon’s deep voice groaned, and his hand guiding your movements. A steady back and forth, with your fingers wrapped around his balls, giving him just enough pressure to be pleasurable. “Just like that, baby… Can you go a little further for me?… Good girl.” 

Namjoon had never felt so turned on by a woman before. The way you made eye contact with him, and enthusiastically worked to please him the way that he had you, made him feel so wanted and equally aroused. His eyes flickered back and forth from your lips, watching the way his cock disappeared and reappeared, wet and throbbing, to then looking at your curves. Naked on the bed, he could see the dip of your waist, your hips and soft skin of your bottom. Every inch of you, he wanted to kiss. As he let his thoughts drift, he could feel himself go closer to the edge. 

“Wait, hold on honey.” He stopped you.“You’re gonna make me cum, baby.” 

Namjoon leaned down and gave you a quick kiss before finally meeting you on the bed. He laid down, resting his head on the pillow, and letting you straddle him and touch your lips to his. You could feel his cock pushing up against your opening, and Namjoon sighed feeling your skin on his. 

Keeping your lips close to his, but not quite touching, creating a heavy tension, you gently slid his tip into you, causing both of you to let out a quiet noise at the feeling. You sank down on him, working yourself to his length, and Namjoon held your hips, allowing you to take control and be comfortable. You felt so full, every inch of him filling you perfectly. It was as though your body was made just for him to touch, taste and fuck. 

“Fuck, Y/N…” He breathed out. You raised yourself up, and began moving on his length, switching from bouncing to grinding. Namjoon kept one hand on your hip, and place another between your thighs to touch your clit. 

“Joonie… Oh my God, Joonie… Don’t fucking stop.” You whined loudly, throwing your head back. Your hands rested on his chest to keep yourself steady, but you were coming undone again. Your pace quickened as you unraveled, your hips snapping fast as his cock reached right where you needed him most. As sensitive as you were, you both knew it wouldn’t take long for you to hit another high. 

“Cum for me, angel.” Namjoon’s deep voice dripped with arousal. “I’ve got you, baby. Just let go.” 

Your eyes shut tightly and your lips parted in pleasure, and Namjoon throbbed as you came again. He watched as your breasts bounced with every movement, and took in the feeling of your soft skin on his. As soon as you came down, he gently wrapped you in his arms, and laid you down on the bed, knowing you were almost at your limit. 

“Wanna love you just like this.” He whispered, kissing your neck as he took his place on top, resting in between your legs. His tip brushing against your entrance. “Are you too sensitive, honey? Can you take a little more?” 

“I can take it.” You whispered back, smiling as he continued painting your neck with kisses. 

“That’s my pretty girl.” He praised, sliding himself into you gently, listening for noises of discomfort. But none came, and as he bottomed out into you, he groaned and tucked his face into your neck to mark your skin and whisper in your ear. “Your pussy’s so good, babygirl. So fucking beautiful… so tight and wet just for me, aren’t you?” 

Namjoon learned that night that your neck was particularly sensitive, and you loved being kissed there. As he thrusted into you, he littered your skin with nibbles, licks, kisses and love marks. Each deep, hard hit and mark on your skin was proof that he felt something for you. Was it love? Not quite…at least, not yet. But he was falling, and he was prepared to make love to you throughout the night if that’s what it took to make you understand. You were meant to be his, that much was sure. The way you held him, kissed him, touched him, spoke to him, pleasured him was everything he’s ever wanted in a partner and a lover. 

“So close, angel.” His voice said softly, giving you a gentle kiss. 

“Cum inside me.” You whispered against his lips, deepening the kiss. “Fill me up, Joonie. Don’t fucking stop, want you to cum deep-” 

“Oh… Oh…” He groaned, his length throbbing against your walls. “Y/N…. Y/N, baby…. OH, FUCK… I… Ah…” 

You held his body close to yours as he buried his face in your neck, coming down from his high. His tanned skin was sweaty, his heart pounding and his breath heavy, as was yours. Namjoon couldn’t remember the last time, or any time, he had made love that intensely to anyone. He couldn’t remember any time he had chanted a woman’s name, or felt so desired, or was held so lovingly. It was beyond sex; it was intimacy. 

Afterwards, laying next to you, he pulled you in and the two of you drifted off to sleep as he held you in his arms, as though protective over you. As if, if he were to let go, you’d slip away. So he kept you close, and kept you safe. 

The next morning, sunlight peeked through the drawn curtains of the bedroom, illuminating everything in warmth. Namjoon had woken up before you, choosing to hold you as you slept, playing gently with your hair and occasionally caressing your bare back as you rested on his chest. Namjoon realized he could easily wake up like this, nude under the  covers with you in his arms, forever. 

After a little while, your eyelids fluttered awake. Namjoon pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, and snuggled you closer. 

“Hi.” He whispered delicately. “How do you feel?” 

“Amazing.” You replied in a hushed tone, still coming out of sleep. “Last night was… yeah.” 

“Yeah.” He smiled, his hand absentmindedly tracing your skin. “I’m really happy right now. With you.” 

“I’m happy with you too.” 

You looked up at him, still resting on his chest. Namjoon raised a hand to your face, running a thumb along the outline of your jaw, appreciating how lucky he felt in that moment. Your hair was tousled, you wore no clothes or makeup, and this was the most beautiful he had ever seen you; well rested and happy, after a night of love making. 

“Be with me.” He whispered, the words leaving his lips before he could catch them. 

“Be with you?” You repeated with sparkling eyes, making sure you heard his request correctly. 

“Yeah.” He confirmed. “I think we should be together. What do you think?” 

“Yeah.” You smiled. “I think so, too.” 

Namjoon smiled wide, showing his dimples that you’ve grown to adore so much. He sealed the deal with a soft kiss, hoping it was the first of many together. 

“…So, I spent some time at his hotel, and when we woke up the next morning, we just knew.” You explained, not giving too much information about what happened behind closed doors that night. 

“You just knew.” Ji-ah smiled, clearly giddy with the fairytale love story.

After the interview ended, and the audience had dispersed, the only person waiting for you was Namjoon. He stood in the empty auditorium by the stage where you had spoken just minutes ago, waiting to take you back home. 

“You ready?” You asked, making your way to him. 

“Yeah.” He replied. Namjoon’s eyes were sparkling and warm, filled to the brim with love for you. “Come here.” 

“What?” You smiled, before giggling as he picked you up and gently sat you down on the edge of the stage, where he could stand between your legs and look up at you. “Why’d you do that, Joonie?” You laughed. 

“I just wanted to look at you.” He said softly. You blushed under his adoring gaze. 

Namjoon had been in the audience tonight. It was your first event after the publishing of your most recent book, a essay collection on falling in love. It revealed your relationship to Namjoon to the world, after several years of dating in private. When he proposed to you one night in total surprise, during a private dinner party with all of your friends and his in attendance, that was when you both decided to go public; when you knew for sure that you both were in love for the long haul. 

Listening to you publicly describe the beginnings of your relationship, brought a flood of memories back to his mind. He wouldn’t change anything, and he was so thankful that somehow, he managed to have you for himself. He felt like he wanted to say a million things, but only one sentence seemed to come out. 

“I love you, Y/N.” 

“I love you too, Joonie.” You replied, meeting him halfway to kiss his lips. 

[0310s]

wiping something off their lips (jaehyun ver.) 𓉞⋆｡˚☁︎｡⋆

members: boynextdoor legal line x gender neutral reader

genre: fluff, friends to lovers, they have a crush on u waaah >_<!!!

wc: 1.6k

a/n: this was supposed to be 600 words... something insane happened in my brain and i churned out 1.6k in an hour. let me know if you liked this <3

ᯓ★ 

as the #1 messiest eater in boynextdoor, this scenario is most likely to happen to him… have you seen the multiple videos of riwoo wiping food off his lips… also aside from being #1 messiest eater he is also #1 babiest baby boy of boynextdoor.

when you’re both walking along the streets of seoul and spot a vendor selling cream-filled pastries, jaehyun rushes forward to purchase two—one for him, and one for you. he’s so excited that he gobbles down his pastry and makes an entire mess. there’s cream all over his lips, and he looks like one of those happy babies with food smeared all over their mouth (although not to that extent… but almost lmfao)!!! he doesn’t notice the mess he’s made until you grip his chin and tell him to “stay still.” you pull out a wet wipe from your bag and carefully dab at his lips. 

with your eyes still trained on his mouth, jaehyun takes this moment to stare at you. he’s always known you were pretty, but something about you being this near him is making him feel utterly lightheaded. your perfume is sweet and comforting, and your fingers on his lips feel so gentle. whether it be your scent or your voice or your presence, he likes everything about you… wait, like?

“all done! you gotta be more careful next time,” you lament, disposing the wipe in a nearby trashcan. “anyway, those creampuffs were the best thing i’ve ever tasted since the tiramisu we ate last month…” at his lack of response, you realize jaehyun’s not walking beside you, and you swivel around to see him standing stock still in the middle of the street. his expression looks like he’s come to some sort of realization. “jaehyun?” you bound over to him and wave your hand in front of his face, and he snaps out of his little daze.

“yeah? no, yeah, sorry, i just… let’s go,” jaehyun starts walking, and you trail after him, confused. what was that about?

“so i actually like like them,” jaehyun announces back at the dorm. “i thought it was normal that i found them cute and everything, because anyone with eyes can see that! i didn’t think that it was deeper than that. but i realized that it wasn’t just about their looks… i just. really enjoy their presence and how i can be myself in front of them, like, really myself you know???” taesan and leehan share a look before shaking their heads in unison. “hey!” jaehyun protests. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“we know,” taesan bemoans. “you talk about them your every waking moment, and whenever you spend time with us, you always talk about how you wish they were here.”

“taesan’s right,” leehan adds. “you look at them like they hung the stars. i think it’s obvious to everyone except you, honestly. and them too, because they think you flirt like that with everyone.”

jaehyun groans in response, messing up his hair in frustration. “so… what am i gonna do? it’s not like they like me back. this is driving me crazy... how am i supposed to act around them now that i know i like them?!” his friends share another look. “don’t do that!”

“calm down, jaehyun.” leehan comfortingly pats his friend on the shoulder. “why don’t you treat them as a friend first while you’re unsure about what to do next? after all, you like them as a friend too. i’m sure your dynamic wouldn’t change that quickly.” jaehyun nods in agreement, swearing to do exactly that.

taesan laughs at this. “well, i think jaehyun’s going to fuck this up by being very awkward and obvious.” 

leehan shoots taesan a glare. “don’t mind him, jaehyun. we’re both on your side.” taesan huffs but doesn’t disagree. okay, jaehyun. just be normal. how difficult can it be? 

it proves to be extremely difficult, actually. the next time you hang out together, jaehyun thinks everything is going well, and both of you are talking and laughing like normal. half an hour later, you and jaehyun are snacking on bunggeopang on the side of the road. the streets are empty today save for a few high school students milling about. jaehyun, unaware of how messy an eater he is, is too enthusiastic about his pastry. he’s gesticulating wildly, reenacting a funny story that happened to him days ago, and doesn’t notice until you firmly grip his chin between your fingers. “jaehyun, stop moving for a second.” oh fuck. be normal, be normal, be normal…

expecting to feel cool cloth on his face, jaehyun all but freezes when you use your thumb instead to wipe off the pastry filling on the corner of his mouth. oh god. oh fuck. oh fuck fuck fucking god fuckity fuck fuck. “sorry, don’t have wipes with me this time,” your tone is regretful. jaehyun feels like his heart is about to jump out of his chest. he attempts to wriggle out of your hold, but you grip him even harder. “stay, jaehyun.” oh god, that made me feel some sort of way. fuck, wait! be normal, be normal, don’t say anything… “i’m not done. there’s still some on your…” 

to make it worse (or better, jaehyun can’t tell at this point), you trail your thumb over his bottom lip several times, nodding when you’re sure there are no more smears. “there! all clean,” you declare, finally letting go of jaehyun. he feels his knees go weak as you suck your thumb into your mouth, releasing it with a pop. you’re wearing a very pretty lip gloss. oh fuck. “ooh, custard filling, my favorite! i should have gotten that flavor… maybe next time,” you sigh forlornly. “anyway, jaehyun, should we get going?”

“uhhhhhhhhhhh,” is the only thing jaehyun can respond with. his brain is malfunctioning and he can’t do words anymore. “uhhhhhhhhhhh.” 

you frown in concern and put a hand on his shoulder. “jaehyun? is something wrong-”

jaehyun can’t do this anymore. “ilikeyousomuchihaveacrushonyou,” he blurts out all in one breath, hiding his face in his hands out of mortification. “i’m sorry. i thought i could pretend and act like things were normal between us, but ever since you wiped my mouth last week and you were so close to me, i couldn’t stop thinking about you. and how i feel so nervous around you now that my heart is just going insane. i just had to be honest with you, i don’t think i can keep it a secret. i tried but i failed and. i. i…” 

at your lack of response, jaehyun peeks at you through his fingers. you’re stone-still, and he can’t tell what you’re thinking. oh fuck. he suddenly recalls his promise with leehan and taesan to treat you as a friend first and realizes how badly he’s fucked up. a fresh wave of fear overcomes him, not just at the thought of you rejecting him, but at the notion of losing your friendship. oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck… 

jaehyun’s trying his best not to cry, but he feels so miserable. “i’m sorry, you can ignore that, i don’t want to lose our friendship, i promise that i won’t let my feelings affect our friendship, please, i still want us to be friends.” maybe if he rambles long enough, he thinks, he can suppress the impulse to wail like a little child. 

“wait, jaehyun, i… you like like me?” he nods. “like, more than friends?” he nods again. “like… romantically?”

“yeah,” jaehyun lets out an exhale. “‘m sorry i confessed all of a sudden. i just. couldn’t keep it in anymore. i just have all these feelings for you that i didn’t know where to put them. but i swear,” he pleads, “we don’t have to talk about this. we can just move on from this and i won’t bother you with my feelings ever again. i, i really care for you and still want to be your friend…” 

“what if…” you whisper, “i don’t want to?” 

jaehyun’s face falls, and it takes everything in him not to sob. he’s never even considered the possibility you might not want to be friends anymore. “oh. i. i mean that’s totally understandable. i respect that, yeah. i must have made you uncomfortable. i’m sorry. i won’t bother you anymore.” don’t cry in front of them, jaehyun, don’t cry…

but before jaehyun can turn to leave, you grip his hand tightly so he can’t escape.“no, jaehyun. i mean… what if i didn’t want to move on? what if… i want us to be more than friends too?” 

jaehyun can’t believe what he’s hearing. “wait. are you serious?” a feeling akin to hope blooms inside him. 

you nod, your expression growing shyer by the minute. “you’re always so kind and attentive to me. you listen to me whether i’m feeling good or shitty, and you never mock me. and… you’re also really cute,” you giggle. “i honestly thought you saw me as a friend because you flirt with literally everyone… until you confessed, now. i really like you too, jaehyun, if you’ll have me…?” you still haven’t let go of his hand, and you’re idly playing with his fingers while waiting for his response. 

“OH MY GOD YES! i mean, yes! me too! please! i would. like. yes. i want. to be your boyfriend, oh my god, sorry, i keep stumbling over my words like an idiot,” jaehyun babbles. he feels his hand grow sweaty with nerves and tries to twist out of your grasp. instead, you beam, pull him in with your intertwined hands, and peck his cheek. oh my god, they just kissed me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“well… at least you can be my idiot. now let’s go!” you don’t let go of his hand, and jaehyun has a dopey, lovestruck grin on his face all the way back.

[sylusjinwoon]

{ 163 }

anomaly.

jinwoo sung x isekai’d!fem.reader

{ you think your days are uneventful | and no one ever thinks about you… }

you had no rhyme or reason, not even a mere explanation, as to how this was possible.

you found yourself in the fictional world of solo leveling; a world that you adored with all your heart.

back in the real world...

you recall spending hours of your days binge reading the chapters of the manwha on your phone, falling in love with the amazing art style and the action sequences. it was embarrassing for you to admit, but in the midst of you reading the comic, you ended up developing quite the crush on the main protagonist, sung jinwoo.

of course, you were well aware of how he already had a canon love interest, but a part of you truly didn't care. when your emotions became too much for you to handle, that was when you would constantly search for any inserts pertaining to him, drowning yourself in such wonderful daydreams while saving each and every story you came across within the safety of your phone.

and when solo leveling's mobile game was announced-

you were the first to sign up for it immediately. once the game had launched globally for you to enjoy, you quickly dove into the game while doing your best to care for jinwoo. sure, there were some hiccups along the way, and you accidentally made him 'die' on some occasions, but still, you allowed your love for jinwoo to push you forward.

you spent some of your money on purchasing better items and weapons for jinwoo, slowly leveling up jinwoo in a more safe and efficient manner. and while you were simply enjoying the game, the last you you remember was working on grinding up jinwoo's level before falling asleep within the comfort of your bed-

only to find yourself in an unknown bedroom within an unfamiliar apartment. a gasp escapes from your lips when you look down at your hands, realizing that they looked... more colorful and bright-

almost as if you had been drawn and colored in.

a sudden knock heard on your door breaks you out of your thoughts, trailing your eyes to see your mother opening the door for you, "morning sweetheart, it's time to get up and go to classes!"

you were shocked to see that it was actually your mother who greets you with a sweet smile on her face. she was dressed in soft clothes consisting of a sweater and jeans with her arms crossed over her chest, waiting for you to get up.

"mom, i- where are we right now?"

she frowns upon hearing your question, "what do you mean? we're in seoul, your father got promoted as a hunter and was transferred to the korean hunter's association branch, remember?"

your mind was spinning. there was no way in hell this was real! your parents were both regular office workers. you had never once seen your dad with any combative abilities-

were you dreaming?

had your daydreams pertaining to solo leveling's world made you hallucinate this much?

as if sensing your confusion and discomfort, your mother goes inside your room and settles herself on your bed, reaching out a hand to you as she brushed back your hair. "honey, are you alright?"

you swallow thickly and tried to even out your breathing. "i-i'm fine! but uhm... just to double check... do you and i have any... abilities?"

your mother shakes her head and continues to gently brush back your hair. "no, we are normal civilians, but don't worry! your father will protect us..." she meets your gaze and asks in a warm and concerned manner, "did you wish to skip classes for the day? i'm sure your professors won't mind as much, since you are a university student."

you shake your head at the offer, actually feeling quite eager to explore the world of your beloved webcomic. "no mom, it's okay! i just had a strange dream... and was a little confused, that's all."

she gives you another bright smile before leaning in to press a kiss against your hair. "alright then, i'll make some breakfast for you, and you can head out to your classes afterwards."

she finally leaves you alone then, heading back out into the kitchen as you bolted out of bed to look at your reflection in the mirror. your features remained the same, yet now that you were 'drawn' into the art style of solo leveling, you knew that you were much prettier than usual.

gone were the acne scars and blemishes, and despite your figure remaining the same, you felt quite confident in it. as you touch at your face, admiring the bright quality of your eyes, you couldn't help but sigh to yourself.

"i may look better, but i still don't think i'm a match for cha hae-in."

despite how you could feel your heart pounding with excitement and anticipation at the thought of meeting sung jinwoo someday, you knew better than to get your hopes up. after all, he must have had his second awakening already and was simply doing raids and attending meetings and conferences throughout the world (as per the plot). you knew that his romance with cha hae-in would start to blossom soon, and you didn't wish to acknowledge or even be a witness to it.

in this world, even though i love it so much and would LOVE to be a badass hunter or a healer, i'm still just a civilian.

you continue admiring yourself in the mirror with an almost wistful expression. "maybe it's a blessing that i am a civilian and jinwoo is a hunter..."

that way, i don't have to meet him; i can save myself the heartache and forever remain out of his personal orbit.

you hear your mom calling out to you to come get ready and come to eat breakfast, breaking you out of your reveries as you walked out of your bedroom with a newfound eagerness.

{ ... }

[ ANOMALY DETECTED. ]

jinwoo was simply settled within his office, looking over some reports when the system showed him a new notification. he frowns at the translucent screen, hands reaching up to tap at it.

[ ANOMALY DETECTED. WOULD YOU LIKE TO VIEW IT?

YES / NO ? ]

he could feel his eyes flash purple in response, filled to the brim with concern at the thought of a brand new threat that appeared in his world.

"yes." was his simple answer, eyes becoming glued to the screen as he waited for what the system would show him-

only to feel a bit dumbfounded upon seeing a young woman walking out of her apartment. she was dressed casually with a bag slung over her shoulder, clearly a student as she made her way to the station.

"system, what makes this woman an anomaly?" he asks it casually, waiting for yet another reply. within seconds, a new screen was seen.

[ DIFFERENT UNIVERSE. ]

this message made jinwoo's eyes go wide, his anger quickly being replaced by curiosity. "and how are you certain she's from a different universe?"

[ SHE IS AWARE THAT SHE COMES FROM A DIFFERENT UNIVERSE. SHE IS THE ONLY ONE WHO IS AWARE. SHE IS AN ANOMALY. ]

jinwoo was intrigued now, hands remaining folded against his desk as his glowing, purple eyes continue to watch the woman go on with her day.

interesting... very interesting indeed.

{ ... }

even though you were simply making your way to class, you were honestly having so much fun. even though you technically haven't been out exploring seoul before, it was like you were running on autopilot, with your legs having no issue taking you to the university you attended.

there was a strange sense of familiarity that washes over you, and it almost felt like you were a character that was meant to be within solo leveling's world-

almost.

upon arriving at your university, you greet the two girls that you assumed were meant to be your friends, joining them before and after classes as you managed to enjoy lunch with them. during your classes, you were pleasantly surprised to find that you could understand the textbooks and the professor's written notes as you copied them diligently within your own notebook.

with your classes completed later that afternoon, you decided to spend some time exploring the city, basking in the beauty of the late afternoon while enjoying the sunset. as you stopped in the middle of the sidewalk while admiring the warmth of the setting sun, your phone began to ring with an incoming call from your mother.

picking it up on the second ring, you answer, "hello? hey mom, what's up?"

"you're finished for the day, right? do you mind coming home so that you can help me prepare dinner?"

"of course. i'll see you soon. i love you, mom!"

you hear her laughter on the other end. "i love you, too. stay safe, and come home soon!"

after hanging up the call, you walk with your head held high and a bounce in your step.

even knowing the dangers that were to come-

(the monarch's invasion settled within the heart of this city)-

you held no anxiety or fear because jinwoo would ultimately take care of the war, protecting everyone and everything that lived on this earth while taking on the burden all on his own.

{ ... }

jinwoo had been watching the young woman for quite a few weeks now, and he was fascinated by her carefree and happy nature.

had those who came from a different universe always remained this happy?

even when she was simply doing mundane things like...

attending classes,

helping her mother cook,

eating dinner with her parents the moment her father came home,

and simply studying-

jinwoo couldn't look away.

it was like her finding joy with the simple things in life was like a beacon of light to him. she had an inner beauty that called out to jinwoo, and he found himself desperate to know more about her.

i should meet her soon... and place a shadow soldier on her.

he swipes away at the system's screen the moment he sees her get into bed. knowing that she had class the next day, jinwoo decides to make some time to meet her once and for all.

{ ... }

"oh my god, is that who i think it is?!" one of your friends was heard crying out to you, hanging on to your arm in a tight manner as she stops you from crossing the gate.

"hm? what are you talking about?" you ask with a yawn.

"it's him! the latest s-rank hunter, sung jinwoo!" your other friend was practically freaking out, too, eyes going wide as a dreamy expression crosses her features.

of course, how could you forget? in this world, powerful hunters were viewed and treated like celebrities. as you strained to look toward the gates, you saw that it was indeed jinwoo settled near the gates. he was dressed in his usual coat and suit with what looked like a bouquet of flowers in his hand.

strange, does cha hae-in attend this university, too?

you thought to yourself, even though you were 100% certain that she only worked as a hunter-

but why else would jinwoo be here with a bouquet of flowers?

"you guys go ahead and meet him." you slowly back away from your friends, adjusting your bag as you looked toward the other gate of your university, "i just know that he is going to have a whole group of fans flocking to him, and i don't want to be late. i made plans with my parents." you lie through your teeth before making a dash away from the gate, not even bothering to reply to your friend's protests.

you were determined to never meet with jinwoo-

after all, you didn't want to even fall any more in love with him than you already were-

especially when knowing that he had always belonged to someone else.

however, in the midst of you running away, you were unaware of a pair of glowing, purple eyes that followed your every movement.

{ ... }

she's avoiding me...

jinwoo finds himself back home, barely touching the dinner his mother had prepared for him. his chopsticks kept picking at the rice, eating it a single grain at a time while deep in thought.

"oppa, if you keep going at that pace, you'll be stuck here forever." jinah teases him between bites of her own food, "seriously, what's up with you?"

not even jinah's teasing could break him out of his intrusive thoughts, earning a concerned look from his mother. "jinah, could you give me a moment to talk to your brother?"

she rolls her eyes playfully, but ultimately listens to her, standing from her seat with her bowl of rice and side dishes in hand, giving them some privacy. unable to find his appetite, jinwoo puts down his bowl and pushes it away from him. feeling her touch as she reaches across the table toward him, his chin was suddenly being held by his mother, her own dark eyes filled with concern for him.

"what's wrong, my love?"

he swallows thickly, trying to hide how he was feeling. "nothing is wrong..."

because she was his mother, he should have known better than to lie. "you're heartbroken."

jinwoo stiffens completely when he hears her words. "n-not exactly when she... ah... she doesn't know that i exist. or rather... she doesn't even wish to acknowledge me."

his mother remains silent for a few beats before letting out a soft laughter. "well, perhaps the young lady is a bit intimidated by you, jinwoo."

he could feel his eyes going wide upon hearing her words, feeling shy when she kept on laughing, "in fact, you remind me of your father. when i first met him, i was filled with such joy and love at the mere sight of him. yet... because i had never felt such a powerful sense of love before, i tended to shy away from him a bit."

his mother continues to speak with her eyes closed, "but despite my distance, your father was persistent. he never once gave up on me, always sending me sweet gifts and taking me out on fun little dates. it was through his kindness alone that he had captured my heart completely, getting rid of my doubts since i knew that he was the one for me."

jinwoo smiled at his mother, allowing her to bask in her memories with a hint of sadness felt within his heart.

"so, what are you suggesting that i do then?"

his mother finally opens her eyes before giving him a wide grin, "if she means that much to you, then you need to capture her heart... turn whatever anxieties she has for you into something softer and warmer... like love. you are your father's son, and i know that you not only inherited his appearance, but his tenacity as well..."

he could feel his heart grow lighter in response to her words, now being filled with a newfound courage. letting out a light chuckle when he stands from his seat, coming towards his mother so that he could press a kiss against her hair.

"thanks mom... for the advice. i know exactly what i need to do now."

{ ... }

ever since you first caught sight of jinwoo lingering outside of your university, you had been extra cautious of your surroundings. sure, you were well aware that he had the power to keep track of you through inserting his soldiers within your shadow-

but if you were nowhere near his periphery, then he could not insert them into your shadow, therefore, making it unable for him to watch you fully.

so in your head, there was no way jinwoo could possibly keep track of you.

about a month had passed since you and your friends saw jinwoo, and ever since then, you didn't see him (thank the rulers above). since you were much more relaxed right now, completely convinced that jinwoo being close to your campus was a mere coincidence. and who knows? maybe that was the chosen meeting place he and hae-in had agreed on.

wishing to enjoy your saturday, you finish eating breakfast with your parents before telling them about your plans of enjoying the city. of course, they let you do as you pleased while making you promise them to be home by 9pm at the latest. sealing your promise with them, you grab your bag that held your phone and wallet before leaving your apartment.

the weather was so nice, and you could feel the gentle wind coursing through your hair, making you let out a happy sigh. you stop walking and take a moment to enjoy the weather. "i knew it was a good idea to come out of the house."

"about time."

you freeze upon hearing a deep chuckle settled a few feet away from you, making your eyes go wide as you saw what appeared to be shadowy wisps forming before you.

you were left gaping when jinwoo reveals himself from the shadows, giving you a smug expression.

"did you think you could hide from me forever?" amusement was seen shining within his grey eyes, appearing as bright as silver with the way the sun was seen against them. you were caught off guard, whispering to him in a shocked manner, "you wasted your shadow exchange for this?"

jinwoo's eyes were tilted upwards in question, "oh, so you know a lot about me then?"

he ignores your flustered expression, coming closer to you as he held your chin tightly with one of his hands. he forces you to look at him, a look of annoyance with a hint of anger shimmering within his now glowing, purple eyes.

"why have you been avoiding me?"

his question comes out as strained, and you had no clear answer to give him without spilling your own secrets.

because i'm not from this world?

because i'm half in love with you due to the fact that you're my comfort character?

because i don't want to see you falling for cha hae-in and feel hurt and envious at the same time?

yet none of those words fall from your parted lips, and you couldn't stop yourself from meeting his gaze with a pout. seeing your expression, he sighs and immediately lets go of your chin. running a hand through his hair, he appears disappointed in himself when he meets your gaze again.

"i'm sorry, i was supposed to treat you gently..." jinwoo apologizes to you before taking a hold of your hand. "come on, let me take you out on a proper date."

by now, your mind was spinning, sputtering out weak protests as you could feel the heat against your cheeks. were you dreaming again? was this actually happening?

did your fantasies just come to life?

still caught in a daze, you and jinwoo had been walking for quite some time when he finally stopped at what looked like an amusement park. you look behind you to double check yourself, taking note that the skies were still perfect and sunny-

not at all swallowed up by a looming, purple gate.

a knowing smile crosses your features when jinwoo purchases tickets for you and him to go into the park, making you bask in the sweet scents of cakes, candies, with a hint of buttery popcorn. of course, thanks to his status as an s-rank hunter, he was allowed entry with you within mere minutes.

as you both walk into the amusement park, the crowd of people that once lingered quickly parted ways, their excited whispers could be heard while jinwoo kept your hand held tightly within his.

"no way, it's hunter sung jinwoo!"

"who's that with him?"

"i don't believe she's a hunter..."

"hunter sung with a regular civilian? wow, that's unheard of."

you felt your anxieties beginning to mount when jinwoo suddenly gave your hand a squeeze.

"just ignore them and don't even worry about it." jinwoo's smile manages to captivate you, and you had to look away from him (unless you wished for your heart to burst from the confines of your chest!)

why didn't you go with hae-in instead, like you were supposed to?

you didn't allow your jealousy to ruin this seemingly perfect moment with him, deciding to ask instead, "why did you want to go here with me?"

jinwoo shrugs while looking straight ahead. "i've always wanted to try and go here once... while taking a chance to get to know you better."

you blink up at him, detecting what he was hinting in his voice.

had he been watching you after all?

did he know that you weren't meant to be here-

is that why he held an interest in you?

because you weren't normal-

because you were an anomaly?

"do you want to get on that ride first?" jinwoo breaks through your thoughts, making you look up to see one of the rollercoasters. with a smile, you knew that you would enjoy each and every ride more so than cha hae-in ever could since you were still a mere civilian. such cheap thrills were still very much entertaining to you.

"yes! if it's at all possible, i'd like to ride everything at least once!" you tell him with a wide smile, squeezing his hand in response when he smiles down at you.

"sure, let's go on every ride, then."

so you spent the next several hours getting on each and every ride. while jinwoo maintained a blank expression, you raised your arms up and continued to yell with joy and happiness. each ride filled you with an exhilaration you hadn't felt in a long time. 

and with jinwoo follwing you every step of the way, you only felt your happiness increase.

after tiring yourself out with all the rides, jinwoo buys you lunch consisting of a cheeseburger meal. you look over at him, seeing him sipping at his soda while not even eating. between bites of your burger, you asked him why he didn't get anything to eat.

in response to your question, jinwoo simply rests his cheek against the palm of his hand. "i'm not hungry... because seeing your happiness and smile is enough to fill me."

your eyes go wide, not expecting jinwoo to say such a thing to you. as your heart began to race in response, you saw jinwoo looking away from you with a blush and a grin. he remains quiet, allowing you to finish your meal when he suddenly asks, "i know you're probably tired from all those rides, but... do you think you can handle one last ride with me?"

your breathing becomes labored then, heart already beginning to skip beats when you realized what was going to happen next...

{ ... }

your screams could be heard as you practically cling to jinwoo while riding on kaisel's back. as the shadow monarch kept laughing at your terrified screams, you were doing all that you could to keep from puking up your lunch!

the wyvern's wings seemed to cut through the skies, picking up speed at jinwoo's commands as you held on to him in an even tighter manner. after what felt like an eternity, kaisel began to slow down its flight, landing in the midst of a forested area while jinwoo carried you down its back.

jinwoo lands against the plush grass with you still in his embrace, still giving you an innocent smile while admiring your scowling face.

he calls out your name in between his laughter, "are you alright?"

you shake your head and fought back the dizziness coupled along with the contents of your food felt swirling in your stomach. "n-no... that was practically maniacal of you, sung jinwoo."

jinwoo's laughter becomes louder now, still keeping you in his arms when he tells you with a hint of arrogance. "consider this as payback for purposely ignoring me for so long."

his words only makes the nausea get worse, filling you with anxiety when he continues to walk even deeper into the forest, not stopping until he reached a clearing that you were all too familiar with.

your heart clenched with pain at the memory of hae-in with jinwoo at this exact location, watching as a shooting star was seen decorating the night sky.

yet, with you still in his embrace, the scene was a little different.

jinwoo settles himself against the grass, placing you on his lap with his arms wrapped around you. he presses your back against his chest with a hum, never once looking away from the skies while keeping you close to him.

your heart was still racing painfully, but you struggled to find the right words to even say to him. and as you were stewing in your thoughts, you knew you had to tell him the truth.

"do you realize that i am not originally part of your universe?"

jinwoo doesn't look away from the skies, only letting out another hum as his grin seemed to widen in response to your question. "of course i know... but don't worry. it doesn't matter to me where you're from... as long as you agree to be mine from now on."

your mouth turns dry at his answer, making you turn around to face him, "w-what? how can it not matter to you? i...i tried so hard not to get in the way of your life, b-because you deserved to be happy with cha hae-in..."

he meets your gaze then, eyes glowing purple once more, "you thought that was best for me?"

your throat clenches painfully and you look away from him, only managing a nod in response.

"...is that why you were so dead set on avoiding me?"

you shut your eyes and let out a shaky "yes, i didn't want to fall even more in love with you... knowing that you belonged to her originally."

"don't be ridiculous... i am my own person and can very much choose who i wish to be with." jinwoo reassures you in between bouts of his laughter, tightening his hold on you before continuing, "i've said it before, and i'll say it again, it doesn't matter to me where you came from."

he shifts the way he held you just then, turning you around so that you were now fully facing him, with your hands against his shoulders. your face was getting hotter by the minute, and from the way jinwoo was holding you in place, you couldn't even look away from him.

"when the system alerted me to your presence, i thought that you were a threat... but the more i observed you, i came to admire you..."

shutting his eyes, you felt jinwoo gently delving his fingers into your hair before continuing, "i was honestly so mesmerized by your presence... and i kept thinking to myself... 'how are you able to be so happy all the time? how are you so filled with love for your family and friends? why did you exude so much light...?'"

jinwoo opens his eyes once more, now framing at your face with his two hands, "you being in my universe was the best thing that ever happened to me... and you being here makes me happy, do you understand?"

"jinwoo..."

your whisper of his name was all you could manage when he suddenly tightens his arms around you, bringing your head down closer to his when he perfectly slots his lips with yours, kissing you with a passion you had never once felt before as you basked in this moment with him...

a.n. - ahhhh i'm so happy at how this came out! i've wanted to do a story like this for a while, and i hope that you readers have enjoyed it as well 🥹

edit: i'm trying to make this appear in the tags, so i'm sorry if this is a double post to you! 😭

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

[117luv]

flowers for you

genre: fluff, established relationship

warnings: none

pairing: enha hyung line x fem!reader

a/n: hey loves! posting after being ia cause life just gets busy but we move forward lol and i hope everyone enjoy this and love ya! also hbd to my babyboy jake <3

heeseung

heeseung had always shown his love for you in various ways, from little things such as having your hairtie on his wrist to buying your favorite snacks whenever he went shopping, even if you didn't tell him to purchase them for you. as a small token of your appreciation for him being the best boyfriend, you decided to pick up flowers on your way home. you opened the door and were met with silence, which means he hasn't gone home yet, and you quickly hid the bouquet of lilac flowers before he arrived. his footsteps were heard while you were cleaning things, and you immediately greeted him in the living room. "hi baby, i missed you so much. also, how's work today?" as you hugged him, pressing a kiss on his shoulder. "it was okay, and i miss you more," he replied while hugging you tightly as he took in your scent. you let go of the embrace and quickly ran into the kitchen, grabbing the flowers, and quickly ran back to him. he was confused at first and asked, "what are the flowers for, love?" to which you replied, "they're for you, my love. i just want to show you my appreciation for being the best boyfriend, so i picked these flowers on my way home," as you gave them to him. he couldn't help but pull you for another embrace as he showers your face with kisses. "thank you for the flowers, baby. you just made my day 100 times better. i love you," he said as he placed a kiss on your forehead. "i love you more," you replied as you kissed his lips.

jay

it was the final day of their fate concert in seoul and you wanted to surprise your boyfriend. he had asked you if you could come to their concert, but you declined due to your work overlapping the schedule, which turns out to be a lie because you're planning to surprise him by coming there when he least expected it. as he heard you apologize for not being able to, he reassured you that it was alright and understandable, despite the fact that, deep down, he wanted you to see him perform. as you arrived at the concert venue, you felt as though you were their fans in the crowd. the concert was amazing, and the boys did great, especially jay when he started playing the electric guitar. you were quickly escorted to the back stage, grabbed the bouquet of blue hydrangea flowers from the staff, and walked towards their dressing room. he was wiping off his sweat when he saw your reflection in front of the mirror with a bouquet in your hands. his eyes widened, and he quickly ran towards you as he hugged you tightly. "congratulation, baby. im so proud of you," you said as you gave him the flowers. he felt like a young boy having a puppy crush as his heart beat faster while grabbing the flowers. "they are so beautiful, angel. thank you for giving me this; i will surely treasure this day," he said as he pressed a kiss on your cheek. as the adrenaline died down, he asked you about how you were here when you had work, to which you replied by lying about it in order to pull off this surprise. he just pulled you back to him and started asking about your day.

jake

the members wanted to pull off a surprise for jake's birthday, and you are more than happy to help the boys pull it off. jay and sunghoon decided to prepare the cake; sunoo and jungwon prepared the place, while ni-ki prepared the gifts. you had assigned heeseung to be the person to lure jake towards the surprise. as everyone is trying to fix everything, you took the flowers and quickly took care of the rest. suddenly, heeseung texted you that they were 5 minutes away and put everyone in their place. jay was holding the cake while the others had the poppers ready once he entered the room. jake entered the pitch-black room, and as the lights turned on, he was met with the members as they were holding up a cake and popping the poppers while greeting him a happy birthday. his eyes searched for a familiar figure, and he slightly pouted when he failed to find you amongst his members. all of a sudden, there was someone poking in his shoulder, and as he turned around, he saw you with a bouquet of roses in your hands. he couldn't help but flash you the biggest smile as he hugged you. "i thought you wouldn't be here," he said while pulling you closer. "why would i miss my favorite boy's birthday and flowers for you. happy birthday, baby," you said while kissing him on the lips. he grabbed the flowers and thanked you for giving them to him, and as the party started, he held on to you the entire time while pressing kisses on your cheek. it was truly a great way to end his birthday alongside his members and the person he loved the most.

sunghoon

it was your second anniversary, and you had a whole day planned for the two of you. sunghoon had cleared his day just to spend it with you, which means a lot due to his hectic schedule as an idol. he had come home later than usual and is currently curled up in your arms with his face hidden in your neck. as much as you loved to stay like this forever, you wanted to prepare breakfast and the flowers you had bought yesterday for him. you quickly lifted his arms and replaced it with your pillow to not wake him up. he stirred a bit but went back to sleep momentarily. you made your way to the kitchen and started to cook breakfast for the both of you, and after a few minutes, you had finished the meal. it's now your time to wake him up as you carry the tray towards your shared bedroom. you gently woke him up, and he started to slowly open his eyes. his eyes were met with yours, and you kissed his lips while he was waking up. the kiss had definitely woken him up, and he quickly stood up. "can you give me a warning next time? i cant have a heart attack at 7 in the morning," he said, to which you replied, "love, we have been dating for years now. you shouldn't be surprised with my kisses," while placing the tray in front of him. "oh, what's this? you didn't have to do this for me," he said while staring at the food in front of him. "you deserve it, baby, and here are flowers for you," as you gave him a bouquet of yellow daisies, which caught him off guard. "darling, what did i do in my past life to deserve you?" he said as he pulled you for an embrace and said, "happy 2nd anniversary, my love." he said after placing a kiss in your forehead.

[bellenthigale]

WORLD TOUR

World tour concerts have been a great source of entertainment for music lovers and fans of wonderful group of idols and singers all around the world‚ for many years. It is one of the most popular and exciting events in the music industry. They feature some of the biggest names in K-Pop‚ hip-hop‚ and other genres of music‚ performing live in front of thousands of screaming fans in their chosen venue. It is really a great way for fans to experience their favorite artist in a live setting. These tours offer fans the chance to see their favorite stars perform live in a foreign country. Each tour is unique‚ featuring different countries‚ cities‚ and venues that each artist will visit. Fans can purchase tickets to these shows in advance‚ and the excitement of attending a world tour concert is almost unmatched. The tour typically consists of several performances in different cities around the world. This gives fans a chance to interact with their favorite artist and get to know them better. The concerts usually feature a wide variety of songs‚ ranging from the artist’s biggest hits to lesser known singles‚ and even their unreleased singles. Performances usually feature a mix of solo and group performances‚ it can as well include some special guest appearances. Fans also expect to witness intense choreography and new choreographies‚ amazing outfits‚ and some of the best music the industry has to offer. Concerts are usually held in large arenas and stadiums‚ allowing for thousands of fans to attend each show. This ensures that everyone can experience the artist in a live setting‚ and have an unforgettable experience. A world tour concert is a great way for music lovers to experience their favorite artist in a live setting. world tour concert is also a great way for fans to get up close with their favorite idol and group‚ and it’s somehow also a great way for the artists to experience different cultures and countries. With each tour being so unique, fans can expect to get a truly one-of-a-kind experience.

안녕‚ Swiths! Has the news already reached and been seen by you? Soon‚ we‚ STAYC will embark on our eagerly anticipated first world tour. We already witnessed how SWITHs from all over the world are preparing and getting ready for this forthcoming once-in-a-lifetime experience‚ when our management announced our first-ever world tour‚ this year‚ 2023. The members and I‚ will be travelling to 11 cities across the globe‚ with performances in the US‚ Europe‚ and Asia. This tour features a total of 11 concerts in the aforementioned cities around the world‚ starting from Seoul‚ New York‚ Chicago‚ San Antonio‚ Dallas‚ Seattle‚ San Francisco‚ Los Angeles‚ Taipei‚ Hong Kong‚ and Singapore. I’m sure SWITHs are unquestionably anticipating and being really excited to be able to attend our first-ever world tour concert. Since it will be our first time performing on and having a world tour‚ this tour will always hold a particular meaning for us and SWITHs. It’ll be memorable. The “STAYC 1ST WORLD TOUR [TEENFRESH]” tour‚ which is named after our 3rd Mini Album from our upcoming comeback‚ will begin on 23rd and 24th of September, 2023‚ in Seoul‚ South Korea. We will subsequently proceed to the aforementioned destinations before finally wrapping up on our last tour on February 16, 2024‚ in Singapore. Our debut single “So Bad” as well as some of our more recent releases will undoubtedly be included in the variety of songs from our discography that we’ll be performing in our upcoming world tour. We are looking forward to meeting SWITHs from all around the world‚ and we are also excited and anticipating to share our music and performances with you. This tour will be a great opportunity for us to show the world what we are capable of. It promises to be an incredible experience for both us and SWITHs‚ and it is sure to be an unforgettable tour from us.

We are very much aware that SWITHs have been anxiously expecting news of a world tour for some time; we were‚ too. when the announcement was made‚ it was quite exciting for all of our fans throughout the world‚ including ourselves‚ we’ve also been waiting for a world tour concert ever since we debuted. Since our debut in November 2020‚ it has taken us three and four years—since we’ll finish our world tour in 2024—for us to finally have our first-ever world tour‚ which will take place this and next year. During our upcoming world tour‚ SWITHs from more than ten countries will have the chance to see our stirring live performances! Isn’t that exciting and anticipating? I’m already excited for this experience‚ I can’t wait to perform in front of SWITHs! It will also be our first opportunity to fully engage with our international SWITHs‚ who have been patiently awaiting word of a world tour for a some time now. The world tour is a significant turning point in our careers. We get the chance to show to our SWITHs‚ why we have grown to be one of the well-known K-pop girl groups. Additionally‚ it also gives us the opportunity to carry on with our mission and goal to inspire people to love and accept themselves. Isn’t it great‚ SWITHs? You will have the opportunity to witness our performances live and in person during the world tour. This is can also be an opportunity to support and show appreciation for our hard work and dedication to our music. We are so happy and pleased with the reactions you share online when the news of our first world tour was announced. It found great enthusiasm among our SWITHs all over the world. It is definitely an unforgettable experience for both‚ us and SWITHs‚ and will definitely be remembered for years.

It is with much excitement that our company had announce that we set to embark our very first world tour and the release of our upcoming third mini album‚ “TEENFRESH”. We are very grateful for the honest feedback from our fans‚ SWITHs. We also want to take this moment to thank our SWITHs for your undying support and enthusiasm. The news of our world tour and third mini-album received a lot of enthusiasm from SWITHs‚ those who loves our music‚ and other K-pop fans all around the world. SWITHs have already been sharing their honest reactions through social media‚ since the announcements of the comeback and the world tour‚ expressing their excitement and anticipation for these upcoming projects of ours. Seeing and reading their reactions makes me feel overwhelmed. I’m really happy that we have SWITHs surrounding and supporting us. Our third mini album‚ “TEENFRESH”‚ is set to be released on 16th of August. As usual‚ you can always expect a variety of genres and styles‚ as well as a unique sound from us. The tracks on the album are sure to be bursting and radiating with sunshine energy. We hope the SWITHs are just as excited as we are for the upcoming world tour and our upcoming comeback. More announcements will be made and released soon‚ there is still plenty of time left for the world tour and our comeback. You can always find more information on our different social media platforms‚ our fans’ updates from us‚ fan cafes‚ and etc. We can’t wait to meet again SWITHs in person‚ soon. The schedule for our comeback’s other releases is already out now‚ you guys can check it out. That’s the update for today. See you soon‚ SWITHs!

[acciocutepeople]

Places To See in Seoul - South Korea

There's nothing better than planning a vacation, especially one that you're really excited about. You purchase your tickets, pack your packs, and afterward the best part: you start to wander off in daydream about your Trip as you plan your itinerary, making a rundown of the spots you must see while you're far from home. As the lists gets longer, your Excitement grows, and before you know it's a great time to go Seoul!!

With such a significant number of spots to visit, arranging a trip to Korea can be overwhelming. We have created a list of the top most Amazing attractions in seoul, South Korea as of 2018. These attractions are perfect for adding to your tour schedule!

1. N Seoul Tower

No outing to Seoul is finished without a trip to the famous N Seoul Tower. N Seoul Tower was the first of its kind - no other pinnacle like vacation destination had been built in Korea prior to its construction. The tower sits at 236 meters tall, which implies that while you're at the best, you're at the second most elevated point in the whole city.

While you're visiting the Tower, there are an assortment of activities that will keep you occupied, so make sure you clear several hours for the trip. You'll at first need to look at the perception decks, which give you a magnificent panoramic view of Seoul that makes for totally culminate photographs. While you're on the deck, you'll obviously need photographs of the city, however keep in mind to have a companion (or stranger/new friend) snap a photo of you with the city as a scenery to demonstrate to your friends back home!

2. Gyeongbokgung

If you ask the people you meet in Seoul what you absolutely must do with your time in the city, most will tell Gyeongbokgung Palace some place on their list ). This eminent royal residence was Built in 1395, so in addition to the fact that it is a standout amongst the most excellent man-made structures on the planet, it's also over 600 years old!

This royal Palace is the biggest of the Five Grand Palaces, and accordingly, it's a quintessential piece of Korean history. The Kings of the Joseon tradition lived in this royal Palace, and its design and architecture that - it is unmistakably fit for Royalty.

A little more than one hundred years back, Imperial Japan decimated the majority of the Places, which was wrecking for Korea. While it is still being restored up 'til today, it is a completely astonishing complex that will take you hours to see in its entirety. The complex is additionally home to two unique museums, The National Folk Museum and The National Palace Museum of Korea.

3. Submerged Tomb of King Munmu

Once you've gotten your fill of the city, Visit to the sea to look at the Underwater Tomb of King Munmu, a must-see tourist attraction in Korea. King Munmu was a ruler that lived right around 1,500 years back, and he is essential to Korean history because he unified three unique kingdoms, merging their power into one. Why is he buried underwater, you ask? Trust it or not, he wanted it that way! King Munmu believed that if he were buried covered in the ocean after his demise, he would return as a dragon to protect the land he helped lead towards greatness.

Reasons Why You Should Visit South Korea

1. All year celebrations

Consistently, there are a greater number of celebrations in South Korea than one could Attend, a couple of main festivities everybody likes to participate in. At the point when the snow melts and the climate gets hotter, pink and white cherry blooms change South Korea into a magical wonderland for a small period towards the start of spring, and a large number of individuals come to see the blooms from everywhere throughout the nation. Buddha's Birthday is another Major occasion celebrated in May with lantern parades and performances at nearby temples, while in fall, Koreans commend their own Version of Thanksgiving amid Chuseok and respect their ancestors during proudly conducted ceremonies. Actually, there are celebrations in each month of the year for every taste.

2. Rich history South Korea has a long history going back finished a thousand years. Because of the natural isolation of the Korean Peninsula, the nation's way of life hasn't changed as much as in different regions. Still today, you can remain in wonder of the absolute significant cultural heritage sites of the nation, for example, Gyeongbokgung Palace, the main palace situated in Seoul. The city of Gyeongju is likewise a place of historic value and is regularly called a 'museum without walls'. Gyeongju was the capital of Korea during the Silla Dynasty from 57 BC - 935 AD and is home to countless royal tombs, royal palaces, and temples that are listed as UNESCO World Heritage sites.

3. Throbbing society Because of their long history, South Koreans have an assortment of customs they have kept alive throughout centuries. 'still today individuals love to dress in in traditional clothes (hanbok) - you can lease it to wear around Seoul and Jeonju', for instance. In Modern Seoul, you can still find traditional hanok house neighborhoods with lovely teahouses that have been in existence for decades. This blend of old and new is really Fun to Explore when traveling in South Korea.

[starrymused]

Joji was born in Busan, South Korea, and he was born... strange. At first, his parents didn't immediately sense anything off. Yeah, he seemed to be obsessed with putting their fingers in his mouth, but that was just a baby thing! And when his teeth came in, Joji tried to gnaw on anything he could, but especially people. Hands, arms, even his mother's earlobe! Again, they thought it was just a baby thing that he would grow out of.

When he was a toddler, he did the same with other children at his day-care, but it became a bit more aggressive as he aged. He'd literally bite them and hold on until they screamed and alerted the day-care staff. Even when they tried to get him off, he would put up a fight and remain latched on.

His parents didn't know what to do, but decided to set up an appointment with a child behaviour specialist. Unfortunately, even after many meetings and attempts to stop this concerning behavior, it began to escalate. Now a child of six, his mother would find him sitting on the kitchen floor, eating the raw meat from the fridge. He would also catch birds and animals when playing in the garden and hide them behind the shed. His father found him there, consuming the dead animals. This continued on despite them trying to discipline it out of him.

Completely freaked out by their son's behavior, they soon decided that enough was enough, and left him on the front step of a children's home with nothing but a small backpack of his belongings.

The children's home wasn't kind. The other kids were afraid of him because he often tried to chew their fingers or sniff them. The employees didn't know what to do, either, so often left him out of activities with the others. This meant that Joji spent a lot of time alone in the library. He read everything he could, teaching himself many topics, and even learned English to a fluent level. Of course, books couldn't replace his need for human connection, but he just couldn't fit in with the others no matter how much he tried.

As he grew older, Joji realized that his affliction was something that others didn't posess, so he tried to hide it. He ate like a normal person would, but didn't get much satisfaction from any meals. Slowly, over many years, a few of the others warmed to him enough to interact. Joji tried his best to keep up his act, but it wasn't to be. On his seventeenth birthday, he and another boy were alone in the grounds after sneaking out past lights out, and Joji couldn't fight it anymore. He lured the boy behind the equipment shed and attacked.

He ran away from the home that night with blood and flesh dripping from his mouth. Disgusted and ashamed, Joji traveled to Seoul using the little money he had previously stolen from one of the staff members. He dyed his hair blond just in case the police were after him (he couldn't be sure if he'd been reported or not) and spent the next few years just trying to survive.

He worked odd jobs, continued to steal (he had a knack for it), and sometimes resorted to sexual favors with strangers. He stayed in motels and goshiwons until he saved up enough to purchase a van. Van life seemed to be a somewhat popular way to live, so he imagined he'd get by fine.

Joji is now twenty-two and lives the vagabond lifestyle, traveling South Korea in search of something more. He still has his affliction and it gets hard to deal with when he hasn't consumed human meat in a while. It's a horrible addiction that he has to fulfil or he'll go insane. He has gotten good at luring men away by offering them certain acts (men are such predictable creatures) and then attacking them when they're in a secluded area. He then consumes them; sometimes raw, sometimes cooking them (even though he's not very good at cooking) and stores any excess in a portable freezer tucked in the corner of his van. It's easier to get away with murder when there's no body left to find at the scene. He also never stays too long in the same place and knows how to stay on the down-low, so he doesn't tend to attract any unwanted attention.

This video is the general layout of Joji's van just without the gaming setup. Instead, he has a small TV hung on the wall and the freezer beneath it.

[jongnorp]

WELCOME HOME, SEO JUNHO!

You've got the keys, unlock your new world!

NAME. SEO JUNHO. DATE OF BIRTH. 20021031. OCCUPATION. ASTROPHYSICS STUDENT. NATIONALITY. SOUTH-KOREAN.

FREE FORM.

It’s funny how you can have so much, and yet be left with so little. You have the house, the cars, the luxury purchases and vacations abroad, the blissful lack of money worries, yet, where is the love? Junho believes that, in a way, his parents love him, but he can’t say he’s ever felt very loved. He’s never felt accepted for who he is, just who his parents want him to be. It’s not a unique problem, he knows that much. And who is he to complain, when he’s got almost everything he could ask for? Asking for more would just be greedy.

His parents only ever wanted one child, just to say they’d done their duty in continuing the family blood lines. But it meant all the expectations were placed on Junho’s shoulders. Get good grades, play sports, play an instrument, be involved in extracurriculars, spend time with the family, but not too much time, call the grandparents, and cousins, and put aside time for vacations, but have a steady social circle, but only be friends with smart kids, ones worthy of him. Junho never made a single decision for himself, though not for want of trying. 

Despite the pressure, and the ever present shadow of his mother hanging over his shoulder, checking up on him at every opportunity, Junho finds time to fall in love with music. Not the kind his parents want him to take interest in—the classics like Mozart and Bach—no, Junho’s captured by the shining world of kpop. He’s smart enough not to share this interest with his parents, knowing they’d never approve, but he begins to dream of one day being an idol. It’s a pipe dream really. How does a boy whose barely allowed out on his own, living in San Francisco become a singing and dancing idol in South Korea? The simple answer: you don’t. 

Junho’s not the perfect child his parents wish for though. He’s not perfect in every subject, and it doesn’t all come easy to him. He’s good at math and physics, sports and music, but in everything else he struggles, especially when it comes to his behaviour. It becomes clear quite early in Junho’s life that he’s emotional, a trait his parents quickly make their great dislike for known. He’s hot-tempered, competitive, dramatic and tearful. Quite unlike the child his parents had envisioned, had hoped he would be. 

Yet Junho pushes forward, trying to minimise the conflict in his home life by aiming to be the person his parents want him to be. He pushes his emotions down as best he can, ignores his own interests, tries his best to emulate the ideals his parents instilled in him. Yet he can feel the cracks in his persona from the moment he puts it on. Even with his extended family, the cousins he grows so close to, he can’t be himself. Like most families he knows, they’re strongly religious, and Junho finds that parts of him don’t line up with what they believe to be good. As the years pass he notices more and more how his entire family, immediate and extended, agree on what’s right, and what’s wrong, and Junho can’t help but notice just how many parts of him are wrong. 

Yet eventually, in middle school, Junho meets a few friends who voice different opinions, whose worldviews place Junho in the good category, despite all the things his family would point out as reasons he's bad. He begins to quietly accept those parts of himself, wondering if perhaps there’s another way to live life that isn’t bound so tightly by the rules his family lives by. 

But things get much worse when his family suddenly moves to Seoul. Without that friend group, and surrounded by people who all believe the same things his parents do, he’s thrust back into the world where Junho is wrong. Those few people who said the things he knew to be bad about himself were, in fact, good things, surely must’ve been wrong. So many people all agreeing on certain things can’t all be wrong. Yet Junho can’t find it in him to agree, not fully, when they’re things he can’t seem to change. 

The only good thing about being in Seoul, he realises, is that now he’s close to the entertainment company auditions. Behind his parents backs he begins to go to as many as he can, for any company he sees advertising them. Yet, time and time again, he fails. Sometimes, he reaches the final round of auditions, before losing out once again. Maybe being an idol really isn’t his calling, despite how much work he puts into it after school, during the hours his parents think he spends studying, when he’s actually attending a performing arts academy, paid for with his own money. 

Eventually, he graduates from high school, detaches himself from the friend group who spewed so much hatred about a myriad of things Junho could never seem to truly agree with, and gets into Yonsei University. It’s quite a shock to both him, and his family, as no on truly believed he had it in him to get into somewhere so prestigious. But, his grades in Math and Physics, alongside his Grade 8 piano and long list of extracurricular activities, made him stand out. 

He moves out, getting an apartment with a friend closer to campus, and begins again trying to figure out who he is apart from what his parents always pushed upon him. What does he like, dislike, wish for and care about? Deep down, he knows the answers, but years of being buried means they take a long time to unearth. Surrounded by better people from all walks of life—from different places and different backgrounds—he lets his preexisting beliefs about right and wrong, and his own sins, be questioned, challenged, and changed. 

He’s nowhere near perfect, nowhere near healed from eighteen years of living under his parents roof. They need not know about the man he’s becoming, or the things he disagrees with them on. Sometimes, you have to lose others, to gain yourself. 

[thedisneychef]

Where is Glow Recipe From? Exploring the Brand's Roots

Hi everyone, I'm sure you've heard of Glow Recipe, the popular skincare line that has been taking the beauty industry by storm. With its natural ingredients and innovative formulas, it's no wonder why so many people are turning to this brand for their skincare needs! But do you know where Glow Recipe is from? In this article, we'll be exploring the origin of Glow Recipe and how the company got to where it is today. Glow Recipe was founded in 2014 by beauty industry veterans Sarah Lee and Christine Chang. The two friends wanted to create a safe space for people to learn about K-beauty products and get access to quality formulas without compromising on safety or efficacy. From humble beginnings in Seoul, Korea, they have now grown into one of the most sought-after brands in skin care around the world - but what made them stand out from other competitors? Let's take a closer look at their story… A Brief History Of Glow Recipe I founded Glow Recipe in 2014 with the mission to make natural, Korean skin care accessible and easy to understand. My goal was to prioritize "skin first" and ensure that all ingredients were ingredient focused. We wanted every product on our platform to be made with only the best of the best ingredients - ones that are proven effective and safe for long-term use. To achieve this, I took a 3 step approach: 1) source only the highest quality natural products from Korea; 2) carefully curate each one based on efficacy, safety and performance; 3) deliver them directly to our customers around the world. Our philosophy is simple – we believe skincare should always come before makeup, so you can look your best without covering up or using harsh chemicals. The path has not been an easy one but it’s worth every bit of effort when I see how satisfied our customers are with their purchases. They love knowing exactly what’s going into their skin and being able to trust us as experts in helping them find the perfect match for their unique needs. It's a privilege for me to help people get access to better skin health through clean beauty solutions! The Founders Of Glow Recipe Glow Recipe was founded in 2014 by Sarah Lee and Christine Chang. They are both highly experienced skincare experts who have worked for some of the world’s leading beauty brands, such as L'Oreal, Lancôme, Shiseido and Kiehl's. With their combined expertise and knowledge of clean beauty products, they set out to create a one-stop destination for all things related to Korean skin care. The founders wanted to provide customers with access to safe yet effective products that deliver results without causing any harm or irritation to the skin. The mission at Glow Recipe is clear: bring together top quality ingredients from Korea and make them available worldwide. All of their products are carefully selected based on strict standards, including natural extracts, dermatologist-approved formulas, and non-toxic preservatives. Furthermore, each product undergoes rigorous testing prior to being released onto the market so you can be sure what you're getting is authentic and free from any unwanted chemicals or additives. Their goal is simple - help everyone achieve healthy glowing skin through high quality Korean skincare products that are fun and easy to use! By providing easy-to-use tools for selecting products tailored specifically for your individual needs – plus expert advice from knowledgeable professionals – Glow Recipe makes it easier than ever before to get started on your journey towards healthier looking skin today. The Philosophy Behind Glow Recipe I'm proud to say that Glow Recipe is a product of the K Beauty culture. We were founded in 2014 out of our passion for skin care trends and natural ingredients, which have been popularized by Korean beauty rituals. Our mission has always been to make clean and effective products accessible to everyone. We take inspiration from traditional practices like fermentation, herbalism, and holistic approaches to wellness. By combining ancient wisdom with modern technologies, we create innovative formulas designed to nourish your skin at its core. From sheet masks to sleep masks, serums to moisturizers—we believe in creating high-performance products tailored specifically for you. Our commitment to safety and quality has helped us become one of the leading brands in the U.S., but more importantly it's allowed us the opportunity to build relationships with customers all over the world who love what we do and trust us as their go-to source for luxury skincare solutions. At Glow Recipe, we strive everyday to bring you healthy glowing skin through nature’s best ingredients without compromising on performance or results. Glow Recipe's Popularity I'm sure you've all heard of Glow Recipe, the innovative, natural beauty brand that has taken the world by storm. They're based in New York City and have become a global phenomenon over the past few years, with their popularity continuing to grow as they expand into new markets across the United States and beyond. Their success is due in part to staying ahead of consumer trends and creating a wide range of products suitable for any skin type or concern. Glow Recipe's offerings include skincare items such as cleansers, face masks, mists, moisturizers, serums, peels and toners. All of these are made with high-quality ingredients sourced from around the globe and carefully formulated to provide maximum effectiveness without harsh chemicals or preservatives. 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For example, they could create refillable containers that allow customers to purchase just one bottle and then continuously fill it up as needed without creating additional waste. They might also start launching new products made from organic materials or introduce items designed specifically for those who have sensitive skin. No matter what direction Glow Recipe takes going forward, one thing is certain: their commitment to quality and environmental responsibility will remain unchanged. The care and attention put into each product ensures that everyone using them can feel confident about their choices - now and in the future! Frequently Asked Questions What Are The Ingredients In Glow Recipe Products? At Glow Recipe, we believe in sourcing only the best ingredients for our products. We use organic and eco-friendly sources whenever possible to ensure the highest quality of product that is also better for the environment. Our packaging is recyclable and made with materials that are sustainably sourced through ethical practices. From natural oils like jojoba and squalane to exotic fruits like pineapples and papayas, each ingredient used in a Glow Recipe product has been carefully chosen based on its skin benefits and effectiveness. How Do Glow Recipe Products Compare To Other Skincare Brands? Glow Recipe products are known for their natural ingredients and results-oriented approach to skincare. Their products have been praised by many customers who report that they have seen an improvement in the overall look and feel of their skin after using them. Compared to other brands, Glow Recipe stands out with its ability to cater to people with sensitive skin or allergies as well as those looking for a more holistic solution. With glowing product reviews across multiple platforms, it’s easy to see why so many people turn to Glow Recipe for better skincare solutions. What Is The Best Way To Apply Glow Recipe Products? Applying Glow Recipe products is easy and can help you achieve your best skin yet! Start by cleansing the surface of your face, then apply a moisturizer. Follow this with any targeted treatment serums or oils. Finish off with sunscreen to protect from sun damage. For extra moisture, add an additional layer of moisturizing cream after sunscreen application to keep your skin hydrated throughout the day. Keep these tips in mind for optimal results when applying Glow Recipe skincare products! Is Glow Recipe Cruelty-Free? Yes, Glow Recipe is cruelty-free! They are committed to animal welfare and don't test any of their products on animals. In addition, they do not work with companies that test ingredients or formulas on animals at any stage during the production process. You can trust that when you use Glow Recipe's products, you'll be supporting a company that values sustainability and ethical practices for both people and animals alike. How Much Does A Glow Recipe Product Cost? When it comes to Glow Recipe, you can rest assured that their products are eco-friendly and cruelty-free. But how much does one of their products cost? On average, most items range from $20-$50, depending on the product type. Customers rave about the quality for the price point as well; with countless positive reviews across various platforms. So if you're looking for a high-quality skin care product without breaking the bank, then Glow Recipe is an excellent choice! Conclusion In conclusion, Glow Recipe is a natural skincare brand that offers products with ingredients like fruit and plant extracts. Their formulas are gentle yet effective for all skin types, making them stand out against other brands in the market. The best part about Glow Recipe is that their products are also cruelty-free, so you can feel good knowing your purchase isn't tested on animals. Plus they offer reasonable prices considering the quality of their products, so it's easy to get glowing skin without breaking the bank! Read the full article

[lgcyubin]

it's chuseok, and he can't help but let his mind wander again in-between deciding the superior choice of two gifts that, at the end of the day, any welcoming soul would treat kindly regardless. he's outgrown the nerves that come with days like this, but it's almost habit, the way his mind starts to spin and spin—like he's trying to claw his way through a never-ending to-do list.

he can't remember the last time he celebrated chuseok with his own family—and if he's being honest, he isn't sure it ever mattered until he got to seoul anyway.

maybe it's his own desperation to find a place he can comfortably slot himself into that keeps him running to put his importance into things he hardly understands. but things are a little different with chuseok, however foreign the holiday had felt to him as a kid who spent his formative years feeling more american than korean. after all, since beginning to care about it, he's never spent it alone.

(there it goes again—that god awful mental contingency list. thank goodness he isn't alone; yubin has always been the type to need someone to anchor him, after all.)

his gaze flickers from the gaudy display of red-orange-in-betweens boxes elaborately packaged and elaborately placed before him to haru. there's a flat expression on his face—like he can't even begin to wrap his mind around the ridiculousness of haru's comment.

"besties? friends forever? soulmates? you think any of those deserves a spam gift box? be for real, harold. this isn't monopoly money we're talking about." yubin spots a smaller box—a much more reasonable one. it only has about five packs of spam, but it also has a cute little cartoon gremlin that's drawn to look like it's trying to devour one can whole. perfect. looks just like haru. "i'll get you this one because i'm looking out for your sodium intake levels. and also because i care about you deeply, as my bae, my baby boy, my beloved, my—"

yubin freezes in the middle of scooping up the gift box of hangwa next.

"ohhhh shit. dude, do you have any spare photocards of yourself? i forgot to swap out the one i keep in my wallet with one of yours. your parents are going to think i'm a fake."

he pushes his soon-to-be purchases for the day into haru's arms, unceremoniously, to pull out his wallet and double check. it's theatrics, really—in the midst of expired coupons, his government id, and a couple of credit cards, kim yubin's the last person anyone would expect to keep hold of an idol's photo card of all things. and they'd be right to think so.

but he'd sooner be damned than be caught slipping when it comes to his best friend, and haru's photo card has a special place in between two nene chicken frequent visitor cards.

(not that he's going to admit that off the bat.)

"ugh. yeah. i only have v&a jiho right now. do you think if i cover the face your parents will think it's you?"

chuseok was always a welcome holiday to haru since it meant that they would get a break from their usually heavy schedules. where agito--or v&a as a whole--might've had their calendars packed with group activities in addition to other gigs some of them may have picked up before, this year it seemed they were busy doing more individual jobs instead - but in either case, it meant they were kept occupied even if it didn't look like they were doing much to the public.

in haru's case, he was (excitedly) filming for his first lead role in a drama which took up most of his time so he was personally a bit thankful that he wasn't being stretched thin by also having a lot of agito or v&a activities on top of it.

don't get him wrong though-- haru would prioritize v&a and agito if he had to choose between being an idol or an actor but since it worked out that they were all doing more solo jobs on their own, he wasn't going to sit around and do nothing; especially when an opportunity like this that he's been waiting for, for what feels like forever, was finally presented to him.

so naturally, he's been enjoying the filming a lot. however, he supposes it's impossible to escape being tired no matter what he's doing. even though he's not being shuffled around from location to location half-awake thanks to his days starting when the sun isn't even up like he would be if he were in the middle of promotions, being a lead requires him to be on set for longer hours and often times, the downtime between scenes would somehow make him sleepier if they took a while to set up. it sounds like filming would be more relaxing than regular idol schedules yet when haru gets back to the dorms after a long day of filming, he crashes immediately all the same.

that's partially why he's already thinking about the long nap and meaningful rest he'll probably be able to get once he's back home. and although he's also being accompanied by a certain someone this year who haru would say exhausted him in his own way if asked, he's still looking forward to having time to catch up with his friend . yubin was basically family, anyways, so it didn't feel strange to invite him to his house for chuseok.

"hangwa, definitely," haru replies immediately after the question is asked, not needing to think for a moment longer. he knows for a fact that his parents would appreciate the snacks much more because he remembers them always getting excited when they received them from others. something about chuseok being the perfect time to eat them without excuse, yada yada.

"me personally though, i would pick fifty cans of spam. why aren't you buying me a gift too?" his voice is obviously teasing and meant to sound like a whiny partner as per their usual antics but it takes haru a lot of effort to not burst out laughing right then and there. instead, he tries to distract himself from doing just that by slinging an arm around the shorter and grinning playfully. "are we not besties? friends forever? soulmates?"

[cloudteawrites]

chapter: six ( 15.5k ) rating: mature (death, past abuse, eventual smut) genre: mystery | romance | hurt/comfort tags: bts x reader | ot7 x reader | hybrid | poly summary: when an estranged uncle leaves you his massive fortune you wonder if the universe is playing a joke on you. when that fortune comes with seven hybrids, you know for sure that it is. << first < previous | next > last >>

what is hybrid marking

8.2 million results. 

While scent mixing (heretofore referred to as ‘scenting’) is temporary and lasts a maximum of twelve hours if left undisturbed, scent marking (‘marking’ in common parlance) is semi-permanent. A ‘mark’ is created when the pheromones present in a hybrid’s bodily fluids are applied directly to their markee’s skin. When said chemical compounds seep below the epidermis and bond to the sweat glands found within the dermal layer of the skin, the target has been officially ‘marked’. Between domesticated hybrids and their human caretakers, this is most commonly done by applying hybrid saliva to the skin of the neck, where a human’s scent tends to be strongest. While the behavior involved in marking resembles some aspects of human foreplay, it is a non-sexual expression of mutual trust and affection. It is important to note that most hybrids of age are able to mitigate the oral secretion of pheromones and cannot mark accidentally-

“How do I look?” 

The sound of Jimin’s voice makes you jump. You fumble with your phone, trying to exit out of the website, shove it in your pocket and look at the leopard hybrid’s outfit at the same time.

“You look great!” You tell him once the device is safely tucked away.

He rolls his eyes at you. “You’ve said that about everything I’ve shown you.”

You had, but only because it was true. No matter what the trio of hybrids tried on, they all looked great. You weren’t sure what it was, but seeing them in something other than neutral sweat suits made them look even better than they already had. You were discovering they all had unique senses of fashion too. Taehyung preferred earth tones, soft fabrics and slouchy cardigans, Yoongi tended toward plaid overshirts and dark denim and Jimin had just come out of the dressing room in his sixth button down and second pair of chelsea boots. 

When the four of you had arrived at the mall that afternoon, you’d told them to go wild and call you when they were ready to check out. There was an entire section of the shopping center that catered specifically to hybrids and you were certain they’d be able to find everything they needed and more. You’d been all set to sequester yourself in a booth in the food court and indulge your hybrid research habit, but Taehyung had fixed you with a forlorn look the moment you tried to part with them and Jimin had insisted that you personally review every piece of clothing he put on. You wouldn’t deny that you were having fun, but surreptitiously trying to google what every little thing they did meant without getting caught was getting harder and harder. 

Jimin breezes past you to the semi-circle of mirrors on the far end of the fitting rooms, brushing his tail against your shins as he passes. That was another thing that had changed. Since the talk you’d had with the boys last night, it seemed like they were always finding some excuse to touch you or brush up against you . You didn’t know if it was a manifestation of their cat genes or them just wanting physical reassurance that you were there, but it seemed like every time you turned around there was a tail curling around your calf or a nose tip against your ear or a shoulder brushing your own. You were practically wreathed in them. Even Yoongi hadn’t seemed to mind when your fingertips had brushed against each other at breakfast when you’d passed him the juice. You didn’t know if you should count that as progress, but you want to. 

You’re not entirely used to physical contact and nearly every time Taehyung rubs his cheek on the top of your head or Jimin reaches out to link your fingers together, you jump. It feels strange, to have people be so blatantly physically affectionate with you. It’s not like you dislike it, exactly, it’ll just take some getting used to. Whatever adjustments you need to make, you know you’ll need to make them quickly. You don’t think the hybrids will give up on friendly hugs just because you never initiate them first.  

“Y/N-ah,”Jimin calls, catching your attention. He’s twisting this way and that on the platform, trying to catch his reflection in every possible angle. He hums in disappointment as he turns back to the front, tail waving behind him. “This collar,” he says, tugging on the offending band of bright green plastic around his neck, “-is ruining my outfit. We’ll need to get real ones today.” 

You feel like a stone has settled in your stomach. Your shoulders sag, but if the leopard hybrid notices, he doesn’t say anything. “Yeah,” you reply. “Yeah, you’re right.” In truth, you’d hoped to put it off for a little while longer. Collaring and leashing a hybrid had always seemed odd to you. After all, weren’t they people too? The law was the law, you knew, but something about publicly and visibly marking someone as property...well, the morality of it was gray at best. The temporary collars had provided you with a stay from the inevitable, but there was no avoiding it any longer, you supposed. They’d have to get collars. 

“I saw a store for them a couple shops down,” Taehyung supplies as he steps out of his dressing room in a white linen shirt and cream drawstring pants. “We could go there?” 

“That works for me...Taehyung, one of your buttons is in the wrong hole.” 

The tiger hybrid squints down at his shirt, feels blindly for the hole he missed, but can’t seem to find it. 

“No,” you tell him. “Not that one, the other- do you just want me to fix it?”

He pauses and looks up at you for a solid three seconds before giving a single, slow nod. 

You come to stand in front of him and start undoing the buttons from the top. There’s only four of them but each one you pop open reveals more and more of his honey brown skin and prominent collar bones. Your fingers brush his skin accidentally and he chuffs happily, one hand resting on your lower back as you start buttoning him up again. Heat starts crawling up your neck unbidden. Even through the fabric of your t-shirt, you can feel the warmth of his palm, how long his fingers are. He presses you closer until your arms are nearly flat against your chest as you try to finish buttoning him up. It’s hard to move squished between the insistent pressure of his hand and the- surprisingly- hard line of his body, but you make do. “There!” You pat him gently on the chest as you finish the last button. “All done.”

He dips forward and rubs his cheek against your forehead, rumbling so deep in his chest that the vibrations pass into you. “Thank you.” He releases you and pulls away, but as he does, his lips brush against your hairline. You try not to read too deep into it. 

The tiger hybrid sidles over to his friend in the mirror, wrapping his arms around the smaller man’s waist and dipping his head into his neck. Jimin reaches back and scratches behind one of his ears and your heart swells in your chest. It was nice to see them be so openly affectionate with each other. They’re so close in a way you can’t even begin to understand. It’s beautiful. 

Your phone buzzes in your pocket and you thumb the screen to life. An incoming call from Mr. Seo. “You guys keep trying stuff on,” you tell the pair, already standing to make your way out of the dressing room. “I’ve gotta take this.”  They both call at you to hurry back and you give them a shout of assent as you rush away. 

The second you’re outside the store, you answer. “Hello?”

“Ms. L/N,” Mr. Seo’s voice crackles on the other end of the line. “I trust you’ve settled in well.” It isn’t a question and the tone of his voice makes it clear that he doesn’t wish to spend what precious time he has exchanging pleasantries with you. 

“Yeah, everything’s okay.” Everything had most certainly not been okay when you’d emergency dialed him two days ago about the tiger on your couch. The text he’d sent you back six hours later had told you to figure it out. You had and you knew you weren’t his responsibility, but him tossing you in the deep end was still a sore spot for you. 

“There’s been a change of plans.” 

You grimace. Straight to it, then. “What’s going on?” 

“Black Mountain Canines- the company your uncle purchased two of the hybrids from- changed their pick-up date. They want you to come get them in person today.”

“Pick-up?” You frown. “No, they were supposed to drop them off.”

“They were,” Mr. Seo confirms, “But it’s apparently no longer profitable for them to drive all the way into Seoul to hand-deliver two of their charges. They also claim they’re incurring additional expenses by feeding and housing two hybrids who’ve already been purchased, but we’ll see about that when we arrive.”

Your anxiety spikes and your fingers wrap tighter around your phone. You’d promised the boys a whole day out. All you’d done so far was get them phones of their own and furniture for their room. There was still so much to do, so much to see. “What about Yoongi and Jimin and Taehyung?” You blurt out.

Mr. Seo sighs and his breath crackles over the receiver. “Those are the cats, I assume? I suggest you let them know sooner rather than later that they’ll have to share their space.” There’s a flurry of movement on his end of the line, the sound of someone calling his name and papers shuffling. “I have to go; they need me to look over some case files.” He tells you. “I’ll be at Haneul Tower to pick you up in three hours. Be downstairs waiting.”And the line clicks off. 

You sigh and hang up. What were you going to tell the boys? Day one of your new friendship and you were already breaking promises. 

“Trouble?” Yoongi’s voice right behind you makes you flinch and whirl on him. His ears press back against his head and he takes a step back at your sudden movements. 

“Sorry!” You tell him, forcing your spine to relax. “Sorry, I didn’t notice you there; I thought you were still shopping. ”

“I can tell,” he snarks, but there’s no heat behind it. His eyes trace the line of your shoulders, still tense and flick to the phone in your hand. “I dropped my stuff at the register. What’s going on?”

You gnaw on the inside of your cheek, nerves making your stomach ache. “C’mon,” you tell him, walking back into the store. “Let’s pay and grab some lunch. I’ll tell you when we sit down.” He follows after you a few paces behind, trying not to let worry prick in him at the anxious shift in your scent. Something was about to change, he was sure, and not entirely for the better. 

Twenty minutes later, the four of you are sitting in the food court, a mess of shopping bags at your feet and a bowl of tteokbokki between you. Yoongi and Jimin had picked out all the fish cakes first and were bickering good-naturedly over who the last one should go to, but Taehyung seemed content to just gnaw at his rice cakes. You’d hardly touched anything, your eyes flicking back to the time on your phone. 1:20 P.M. Two hours and forty minutes ‘til Mr. Seo would be at your apartment to pick you up and bring you to get two more of the hybrids your uncle had bought. You push a rice cake around on your paper plate with the end of your chopstick. Well, no point delaying the inevitable. 

“Hey, guys?” You call softly. Three pairs of ears swivel toward you immediately. The words die in your throat and your tongue feels like lead as they look at you, all their eyes focused and expectant. You clear your throat and force yourself to continue. “So...you know how I…” You search for the right word, but there’s really no other way to say it. “...inherited you guys from my uncle?” 

Taehyung’s eyes flick toward Jimin and the leopard hybrid brushes his tail against the tiger’s. Silent communication you couldn’t even begin to decipher. “Yeah,” Yoongi says, tossing his chopsticks down and leaning back in his chair. “I told them.”

That was right. What you’d blurted out at Yoongi yesterday on the street you had yet to disclose to his juniors. “Thanks, Yoongi,” You tell him, meaning every word of it. He’d spared you from yet another uncomfortable conversation. 

“...For what it’s worth, we’re glad it’s you,” Taehyung tells you, his tail twining around your ankle under the table. He looks at his hyungs for confirmation and when neither of them deny it, he settles his amber gaze back on you. “We like being here with you, even if you didn’t pick us. It’s...It’s nice.”

You can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips at his words. He beams at you, his boxy smile soft despite the sharp incisors poking his bottom lip. “I like having you guys around, too,” you admit, taking the time to meet each of their eyes. Jimin purrs as you look at him, the corners of his mouth curling. When your gaze meets Yoongi’s, his ears twitch but he doesn’t look away. He doesn’t blink either, just holds your stare with an intensity that makes heat crawl up your neck. You suddenly remember the warm stretch of his body over your’s, the sensation of his lips against your neck. You snatch your eyes away and cough to cover your lapse in speech.  “It would’ve been scary, I think, if I had to deal with all this alone.” 

You couldn’t even imagine it.That clinically clean apartment with its blank white walls and its imposing emptiness would have driven you down until you couldn’t stand it anymore. You’d always had a little pit of loneliness inside you. You didn’t know how long it’d been there. Maybe it always had been, a seed of something sad and dark at the core of your soul. You’d done well keeping it contained. You felt it in your goshiwon, but your room was small. It couldn’t grow beyond your keeping. In Oliver’s penthouse, it would’ve had endless room to sprawl and with no one to clip it back, you would’ve choked to death on vines of doubt.

“There are others,” you tell them, before you can down spiral into the mire of your own thoughts. “He bought other hybrids before he died. They weren’t supposed to be coming until next week but their company wants me to come get them today.” 

The mood at the table shifts almost immediately. Taehyung’s ears and tail sag, Jimin’s smile goes sharp at the edges and Yoongi’s lip curls. “How many others?” He asks, crossing his arms over his chest. You notice he does that when he’s nervous or uncomfortable. It’s a defense mechanism, no matter how at ease it makes him seem. 

“Four,” you answer and the bobcat hybrid’s ears tilt back in irritation. “Two are coming home today and the other two toward the end of next week.” Jimin doesn’t say anything, but you see the tip of his tail flicking back and forth. He’s annoyed. Taehyung drops a hand onto the smaller hybrid’s back and rubs circles in it, trying to soothe him. 

“Maybe it’ll be okay?” The tiger hybrid offers. He’s trying his best to be diplomatic, but you hear the strain in the deep timbre of his voice. “Having other cats around again might be nice. We used to live with a lot back at the center…”

You wince. “...they’re canines.” Almost immediately, all of their ears go flat against their skulls and they hiss in unison. Yoongi stifles himself the quickest, setting a hand on Jimin’s knee and squeezing to get the leopard hybrid to get a hold of himself. 

“Hybrids of different species don’t play well together,” he explains. “Especially not when our animals are solitary in the wild. The only reason Jimin, Tae and I are able to stand sharing the same territory is because we’ve known each other since we were kids and we’ve had to do it before.”

Before? A question forms in the back of your mind, but now isn’t the time to ask it.

“We don’t like sharing what’s ours,” Jimin continues for his hyung, interlocking his fingers with yours on the plastic table top. “It’s instinctual.”

“I know, I know.” You squeeze his hand lightly, trying to reassure him. “But the apartment is big; can’t you avoid each other starting out?”

All three of them give you a strange look and Jimin’s lips curl in a way that isn’t quite a smile. “...right,” he purrs, a little delayed. “The apartment.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek, anxiety sinking its claws into you. “I’m really sorry to spring this on you guys, I know it’s not great, but…” Your shoulders sag. “I don’t want to have promised someone a home and rip the rug out from under them, you know?” You knew what that felt like. You wouldn’t wish that feeling on your worst enemy. “I’m just...I’m worried that they’re not being treated well.”

“They were up for sale,” Yoongi drawls. “They definitely aren’t.” 

The taxi ride back to Haneul Tower is uncomfortably quiet. Jimin still holds your hand and Taehyung still leans on your shoulder, but nobody says a word. You help them carry their bags upstairs and drop them off in the master bedroom. You’d told them they could have separate rooms if they wanted, but they’d insisted on sharing, so you thought it was only fair that they get the largest room in the penthouse. Clothes went onto hangars and into closets and before you knew it, there were only ten minutes until Mr. Seo’s arrival. 

“You don’t have to go,” Taehyung huffs. He’s got you wrapped in a bear- well, you suppose a tiger hug and his cheek is mashed against the top of your head. You don’t even think he’s actively scenting you at this point, just keeping you from leaving. “Send your assistant instead and stay here with us.”

You let out a puff of laughter and pat the hybrid on the back in a way you hope is soothing. “Mr. Seo isn’t my assistant, buddy, he’s my uncle’s attorney.” You give a little tug away from him and he lets you go, albeit with a sad little mrow that makes him sound just like a disappointed cat. “I couldn’t ask him to do that. The only reason he’s coming is because they broke the contract. And I can’t drive.” 

The look Taehyung gives you is so downtrodden that you toy with the idea of calling the whole day off and staying with them- but no. You can’t bail out now, especially not with what you’d put Mr. Seo through when the first group of hybrids were delivered. “I’ll be back before you know it,” You tell him with a steadfast smile. 

“You’d better,” Jimin says, nudging the taller hybrid out of the way. Taehyung gives a half-hearted growl, but settles as Yoongi squeezes his shoulder. “The longer you’re away, the longer you’ll have to sit in the stench of those mutts.”

You frown. “Jimin-”

“Only joking,” He soothes, bringing both of your hands up to his cheeks. You don’t believe him, but you don’t press it. The leopard hybrid nuzzles into your palms, purring happily at the feeling of your skin against his. Your palms nearly burn from how warm he is. You feel a warm puff of air against your fingers and tense as Jimin presses all ten of them against his lips. 

“Jimin.” Yoongi’s voice is hard, but his junior’s lips curl up in a satisfied smile, one of his incisors pricking at the pad of your index finger. 

“Hurry back,” he murmurs. You try not to shiver at the feeling of his plush lips moving against your oversensitive fingertips. 

“I’ll do my best!” You say,  a pained smile tugging your lips apart. He hums in response and drops your hands, his fingers trailing across yours as he lets you go. 

“Hyung,” he calls over his shoulder. “Is there anything you’d like to say to Y/N-ah?”

“Don’t let them scent you.” Is all Yoongi says as he breezes toward the stairs. “You know better now.” 

It’s as much as you were expecting. “I’ll see you guys later,” You tell them as you head out the door. “Finish setting your phones up and text me if you need anything!”

True to his word, Mr. Seo is parked out front at 4 o’clock on the dot. You haven’t seen him in a little over a week and you’d almost forgotten how imposing he was. He cuts a sharp figure against the backdrop of the bustling street, dressed in all black and leaning against a brand new Buick Enclave. The poor valet stationed at the front door looks like he’s been trying to work up the courage to ask to park his car for the past twenty minutes and sags in relief as you start heading over.

The lawyer dips his head in acknowledgement at you and checks his watch. “Miracle of miracles,” he says, popping open the passenger side door for you. “You’re on time.”

“I was late one time,” you huff, sliding past him and into your seat.

“And that was enough,” he snips back, closing your door before you can come up with a retort. You grumble to yourself, but don’t press him. You know he’s right. He’d gone out of his way to help you and you’d put him out. 

“I’m sorry,” you tell him as he settles into his seat and reaches for his seatbelt. “It won’t happen again; I know you’ve got other things to do.”

He stills and looks at you over the gold frames of his glasses. For a long moment he holds your gaze, unblinking. You gnaw on the inside of your cheek. Had you done something wrong? 

Finally Mr. Seo blinks and finishes buckling himself in. “I apologize for staring, I wasn’t sure if I’d heard you correctly.” He push starts his car and pulls away from the curb. “I never thought I’d see the day a L/N would apologize to me.” He edges the car into the steady stream of Seoul traffic and you’re off, zooming toward the freeway.

Silence fills the car again, but as Mr. Seo takes on-ramp, you work up the courage to ask your question. “Did Oliver never apologize to you?”

Mr. Seo snorts and it’s such an undignified sound that you almost can’t believe it comes from him. “You could tell your uncle the sky was blue and he’d argue that it was red until he was. And your grandfather-” He seems to catch himself, reigning back whatever meager bits of his personality had managed to slip through the cracks in his normally flawless veneer. You’re all ears.

Up until a week and a half ago, you hadn’t known you had any family, much less an uncle who owned buildings and bugattis. Now you were finding out that you had a grandfather too. “What about my grandfather?” The word feels strange in your mouth. It’d been years since you’d followed the word ‘my’ up with any type of familial relation. 

Mr. Seo cuts his eyes at you, and flicks them back to the front. “Nothing,” he replies, clearly done talking about him. “I spoke out of turn.” He reaches forward and turns on the radio, the sound of national news filling the silence.

You pout and slouch in your seat, disappointment setting in as the promise of new information slipped out of your grasp.

The rest of the drive is easy. Mr. Seo takes the highway out of Seoul and up into the foothills but you’re asleep before he even finds the exit. You’d slept more in the past two days than you had in the previous three weeks, but it seemed like years of bad habits were catching up to you.

Last night, you’d passed out halfway through the second movie snuggled up between Jimin and Taehyung. They’d been so warm and soft and the quiet thrumming of their heartbeats had lulled you to sleep before you knew what was happening.You’d woken up with them still curled around you and -maybe most surprising of all- Yoongi plating breakfast in the kitchen.

Still, it seemed even twelve hours of the best sleep you’d gotten in years and a peaceful morning devoid of stress -for the most part- hadn’t been enough.

You wake up just as the asphalt transitions into gravel, the sound of it crunching under the tires and the car’s shaking waking you up. You’re bleary-eyed and confused, but a sign up ahead snaps you to wakefulness. Standing like a guardian over a chain link fence topped with barbed wire is a metal sign, imposing as it is tall: Black Mountain K-9s, written in stark font.

“We’re here,” Mr. Seo says, as if it’s not obvious. He kills the engine and without its purring to distract you, you feel nerves starting to boil in your belly. What kind of place was this? You half expect sinister organ music to kick on and lightning to start flashing from black clouds. Neither of those things happen, though. The sky remains startlingly clear and the only things you can pick up are the sounds of whistles being blown, dozens of people doing call and response, and one voice, louder than all the others screaming for people to ‘Run faster! Get those knees up!’

You pop the door and step out of the car before Mr. Seo can open it for you and head around to the nose of the car, taking in the compound. 

“This facility produces some of the highest caliber bodyguards in the country,” He says, coming to stand beside you. The attorney rebuttons his suit jacket and flicks his sleeves up before settling his arms over his chest. “Politicians, celebrities, even a few former presidents all have hybrids from this training center.”

“It looks more like a prison,” You remark, nodding toward the barbed wire. “First big cat hybrids, now this...Why didn’t Oliver just get regular pets if he was lonely? Was he worried someone was after him?” 

“Anything I can tell you would be pure speculation,” He replies, walking away from you and heading for the callbox. “Your uncle very rarely confided in me.”

“But you were his attorney.” 

For just a second, the tight grip Mr. Seo has on his composure slips. His lips press together and his shoulders sag- but just as quickly as it’d lapsed, his mask is in place again. “Yes,” he says after a beat. “I was.” And he presses the button on the call box before you can pester him with any more questions about the dead men he’d known.

The call box crackles to life, speakers squealing with feedback. You flinch and slap your hands over your ears to protect them from the splitting sound. Mr. Seo doesn’t react at all and you’re stunned, wondering how he can stand it.

“Seo Seunghan and Y/N L/N for Lim Hangyeol.” 

The person on the other end doesn’t respond. The speaker cuts and a second later, the metal gate before you starts rolling to the side, pushed by invisible hands. It’s like a curtain going up at the theater. 

Before you lies a wide, dusty yard, devoid of any plant life. The thick-trunked trees and lush grasses of the surrounding mountainside had been stripped down to the roots here. All that remains are a few weeds poking out around the base of the long metal buildings that ring the fence, and even those seem like an intrusion. People are making use of the space in whatever way they can. A group of people with matching cropped black ears and docked tails run past you in four straight lines, all perfectly in step with each other. Over to your right, there’s a pack of teenagers working in pairs to scale a ten-foot tall sheer wooden wall and in the center of the field, twenty kids are running through taekwondo forms, supervised by a widely smiling instructor.

You’re in awe of it all. Every single person is like a cog in a well-oiled machine, all in the same black tactical pants and compression shirt. You’d never seen so many hybrids in one place before and certainly not all of the same breed.

Mr. Seo places a hand in the center of your back, steering you away from staring and toward a squat cement building.You let him lead you.

“When we get inside,” the lawyer begins, his voice quieter than you’ve ever heard it. “Let me speak first. If we can get him to admit to breaching the contract right away, it’ll be much easier to get him to agree to a settlement.”

You frown at that. “Why would we settle?” You ask him. “It’s not like I need the money.”

“It’s a matter of principle, Ms. L/N.” He sighs, pulling open the heavy metal door and ushering you into the building. “He did something wrong, and it’s most easy for him to bear the brunt of atonement financially. Without requiring damages be paid for breaches, contract law would collapse.” 

“Can’t you just have him apologize?”

Mr. Seo’s mouth twists up like he’s just tasted something unpleasant. “As you attorney, it is my duty to advise you against accepting restitution in the form of an apology. You’ll get a reputation for being a pushover.” 

You wanted to be anything but. “Alright, alright,” you concede, “Do whatever you think is best.”

The building you’ve ducked into seems to be an office. Along one wall are a set of metal folding chairs doing their best impression of a waiting room. Along the other is a metal door covered in peeling paint and one suspicious dent bearing a plaque that reads ‘DIRECTOR LIM’. Set between you and it is a desk covered in a mess of paperwork. An old desktop stands among it like an island in the ocean and middle aged hybrid woman in coke bottle glasses is hunched before it, tapping away at the keyboard at a mind-boggling speed. One of her ears twitches as the pair of you approach. 

“Take a seat,” she orders in a reedy voice, not bothering to look up from her work. “The Director will be with you shortly.”

“Send them in, Eunjung!” Someone shouts from behind the metal door  just as she’s finished. She doesn’t look up or stop typing or even acknowledge you two again. Mr. Seo takes it upon himself to breeze past her desk and open the door for you. 

The office is militaristically organized, all right angles and bare metal surfaces. There’s a black leather couch that’d seen better days to your left as you enter, a half empty water cooler to your right. Bookshelves lined with trophies and textbooks dominate the western wall. You scan the titles as you pass: Predatory Instinct: The Teaching and Training Canines, The Utility of Force, On Raising Hybrids, The Art of War, all dangerous and daunting as the man they belonged to.

Lim Hangyeol is the most grizzled man you’ve ever seen and the only other human besides yourself and Mr. Seo in the compound, it seems. He looks like a drill sergeant from an old action movie, his salt and pepper hair buzzed short and his face craggy with frown lines. There’s a semicircle of pockmark scars marring the skin of his right cheek and as you get closer, you realize they’re teeth marks. You shoot a concerned look to Mr. Seo, but he’s more focused on giving the director a shallow bow than allaying any of your fears. 

“Director,” He says, straightening back up. “Thank you for having us-”

“Spare me the bullshit,” The older man orders, kicking back his office chair and sinking back into it. “Take a seat. Let’s talk business.” 

A cold smile settles on your attorney’s lips and you see a cord twitching in his jaw, but he merely nods and replies in a breezy voice, “Of course.” 

The two of you do as you told, settling into two metal chairs in front of his desk. These ones are nicer than the folding ones in the waiting room, but no more comfortable. You try to slide yours forward only to find that it’s bolted to the floor. 

“Stops the dogs from throwin’ em when they get bad news,” Director Lim tells you as you uselessly tug at the legs. “Got tired of replacing windows.”

You grimace. If the awards on the bookshelf, what Mr. Seo had told you and the dozens of hybrids running boot camp drills outside were any indication, the man before you must’ve had some idea what he was doing. You didn’t end up providing security for high profile public figures without a smidge of credibility, you knew, but the bite marks on his cheek, the little crack about people throwing chairs at him and the way he’d referred to them as ‘dogs’ didn’t inspire confidence in you. 

This was your first time visiting a place that produced hybrids, you realized. You’d never even been into a shelter before and certainly not a breeding center. Were they all like this? Devoid of anything soft or comforting, rigid with rules and regulations? Had Yoongi, Jimin and Taehyung come from a place like this? You don’t know and you’re not sure you’d like the answer if you did. 

“Thank you for agreeing to meet with us on such short notice,” Mr. Seo starts, popping open the hinges on his briefcase and pulling out a few sheaves of paper. “After the sudden cancellation of your company’s contract with Ms. L/N, I was concerned for the state of our business relationship.” He slides one of the packets across the desk to the director. 

“If I remember correctly,” Director Lim says, scanning the lines of ink and unintelligible legalese, “Me and your boss signed for delivery, not me and whoever this little girl is you brought.” 

Your eyes narrow and your lips curl, but before you can give voice to the nasty thing crawling up your throat, Mr. Seo gives a subtle shake of his head and taps you twice on the knee, out of eyeshot of the director. You grumble, but cage it behind your teeth. 

“See?” The man jabs one gnarled finger at the page, right over your late uncle’s flourishing signature. “It says it right there: L/N Oliver. Last I checked, he was dead. I’m not holding on to a dead man’s dogs. ”

That same muscle tenses in Mr. Seo’s jaw. “The contract states that Black Mountain Canines would deliver the hybrids my client purchased to his residence on December the eighteenth and that they would be received by a proxy if he was unavailable. You were made aware of the fact that he was unavailable, as well as the fact that he now has a proxy-

“I’ll pay the goddamn fine!” The Director barks, throwing his hands up in the air. “Christ above, I don’t know why he wanted those two fuck-ups in the first place, but I don’t want them on my property a second longer.” 

You shoot Mr. Seo a look of confusion, but he just watches, blasé, as the Director rifles through his desk drawers. The man finds what he’s looking for and drops two manila folders on top of the contract. “The pair of them are useless. If it weren’t for my reputation, I’d’ve had them both sent to shelters years ago. Or put down, but you know how touchy the law is about that.”

“I don’t.” You say, your voice edging dangerously close to a snarl. It slips out before you can stop it. Mr. Seo shoots you a warning look and you ball your fists up in your sweater sleeves, fingernails biting crescent moons into your palms with the effort of keeping your mouth shut. 

You can’t stand this man, you decide. He’s awful. You should’ve known that from the moment you saw elementary school aged hybrids stumbling through taekwondo drills with their ears taped and bandages on their tails. You’re going to take whatever hybrids Oliver bought, get them the fuck out of there and never look back. 

If Director Lim had heard you growl at him, he gives no sign of it, just flips open the folders. “To be honest, I should be paying you to take them off my hands. They’ve been nothing but a pain in my ass since they aged out of training. I told your uncle he could have his pick of the litter for what he was paying, but he wanted a wide-eyed buffoon and a mutt who’d rip your hand off soon as look at you.” Clipped to the insides are photos of two men, staring back at you in black and white. 

One has the same black and tan cropped ears as every other hybrid you’ve seen thus far. Unlike them, he’s smiling. His eyes are little upturned crescent moons and he beams at you through the photo paper. There’s so much light in his face it’s nearly blinding. 

The other is not nearly as inviting. The photo is taken at an odd angle and it’s blurry at the edges, like whoever took it was much shorter than the subject and had to zoom in to even get the shot. His ears, larger than any of the other hybrids and longer furred, are pinned back against his head. His jaw is clenched and he glowers down into the lens, one eye soot black and the other piercing blue. 

There are stats listed on the pages behind their photos: height, weight, shot records and the like. Among them, you see their call signs, highlighted in yellow: Hope and Monster. 

“I don’t know where I went wrong with him,” the director says, tapping Hope’s photo. “He went through all the training, passed all the tests, but when it comes down to it, he just doesn’t have the instinct.” He gives a single shake of his head, clicks the tip of his tongue against his teeth. “No one wants a guard dog that’d sooner talk an intruder’s ear off than actually guard what he’s supposed to. He’s not good for much but nannying the pups, but he’s too soft on them too.”

A light bulb clicks on and you realize the hybrid in question had been the one instructing the kids outside in the center of the yard, his tail wagging a mile a minute as they completed another form correctly.

“Now this bastard…” the director continues, jamming a finger onto the second photo with so much force, it rattled the cup of pens on his desk. “Is my biggest failure.” He crosses his arms and kicks back in his chair, his dislike of the hybrid in question obvious. “His mother was the cornerstone of this facility for nearly a decade. I sold her pups to assemblymen and actors alike. Centers around the country wanted pups with her genetics. If it weren’t for her, we’d never have grown to this size.” He sounds wistful as he spreads his hands out, gesturing around himself like a king taking in his holdings. “But all good things come to an end,” He sighs. “A pack of wild hybrids settled a little higher up on the mountain.” His face darkens and his lips twist. “Wolves,” he snarls with all the disdain he can muster. 

“All that about them being noble and self-sacrificing? Complete and utter bullshit,” He scoffs. “They’re transient lowlifes who’d slit your throat as soon as look at you. At first I didn’t care. They stayed on their side of the mountain and I stayed on mine, but then they started sneaking down here at night to steal my food and fuck my dogs. By the time I managed to get the cops out here, they’d cleared out and my top breeder had gone with them.”

He let out a low chuckle and shook his head. “I tell you, I thought I was ruined. But wouldn’t you know it, she came stumbling back here six months later, barefoot and howling to be let in and heavy with some wild thing’s pup.” Director Lim snaps both the folders shut and slides them to you across the desk. “The thing about breeding hybrids is, the money’s all in the bloodlines. No one wants a dog with mystery genetics. The only way to solve that problem is to cut it off at the root- but it was already too late by the time she got here.” 

You feel sick to your stomach. You hope he isn’t implying what you think he is- that hybrid children he hadn’t planned out himself were mistakes in need of correction- but you know he is. Deep in your gut you know.

“And she spoiled him. She let him run roughshod over everyone and everybody in this compound. I tried telling her wild hybrids need a firmer hand- he certainly did if we were gonna break that wolf he’s got inside him, but she wouldn’t hear it. I tried to crop him with the other pups his age, he gave me these,” he said, gesturing to the teeth marks in his cheeks. “We keep him shut up away from the others, now, in the back when he can’t bother anyone. He gets his meals delivered but we don’t ever let him out.” The grizzled man shakes his head. “A drain on resources is what he is.”

“And his mother?” You ask, quietly. 

“Eunjung?” he questions. “You met her on the way in.” The director stands and unclips a ring of keys from his belt buckle, making his way around the desk and gesturing for you and Mr. Seo to follow. “I’ve got her doing desk work now. Gotta keep her close so she doesn’t cause any more trouble.” He pushes open the door to his office, barks something at his secretary and steps outside, not looking back to see if you two are following. 

You shoot Mr. Seo a look before you stand and he meets it, evenly. “We’ll discuss this in the car,” he says, stuffing papers back into his briefcase and flicking the clasps shut. Oh, you most certainly will discuss ‘it’ in the car. 

You don’t really know what it is or where to even begin. The kids with bandaged ears? The fact that Director Lim seemingly decided who was allowed to see the sun and who wasn’t? You think back to the conversation you’d had with Jimin, Taehyung and Yoongi last night. Right now, it seems years away, in some unreachable, idyllic past before you knew how breeding centers worked and how security hybrids were made. You feel foolish. Who were you to try to get them to let go of their pain and their hurt? If what they’d been through was even a little like what was going on here, they wouldn’t be able to for a long time. You’re angry. You’re disgusted. You are unquantifiably fucking sad. 

You pass Eunjung on your way out. In your time in the director’s office, she’s pulled her ash brown hair into a low ponytail at the nape of her neck. Peeking out of the collar of her sweatshirt you can see a faded scar in the shape of a ring, little puncture marks pale and glossy. It looked similar to the one on the director’s cheek, but this one was a complete circle and not ragged at all, like she’d stayed completely still while it was given. Teeth marks. 

You swallow. You want to do something, to give her some words of encouragement, but you have no idea what to say. You still don’t as you slow to a stop beside her desk, but you open your mouth to speak anyway. “I’m sorry,” You tell her, with all the sincerity in your heart. 

She doesn’t answer, but one cropped ear flicks toward you and her fingers slow in their incessant race across her keyboard. 

You turn to go. Mr. Seo was holding the door open for you and you can hear the director barking orders at a group of trainees to run an obstacle course faster. Just as you set foot over the threshold, she speaks. Her voice is so quiet, you have to strain to hear her over the steady clack-click-clack of her nails on the keys. 

“He likes green things,” she says, not looking up from her work. “And old books.” 

You look over your shoulder at her. Her face is a mask of neutrality, her eyes clear and her mouth set in a relaxed line. She looks fine, but there’s an ocean of meaning behind her words. You see her, just for a moment, as she’d been all those years ago, barefoot in the snow and begging for shelter, her stomach full with one of the moon’s own children. You commit the sight of her to memory. Then you turn and you go.

The director is waiting outside, shielding his eyes from the sun and regaling Mr. Seo with some long-winded explanation on the best way to treat hip dysplasia in Doberman hybrids. “Where to?” you ask, effectively cutting him off mid-sentence. 

The man gives you a disgruntled look but despite the anxiety you feel spiking in your belly, you meet it evenly. Once upon a time, anyone in a position of authority looking at you the way he was would’ve sent you into a tailspin of self-doubt and nerves, leaving you shivering as your heartbeat thrummed in your ears, warning you of non-existent danger. If you were honest, it still did- but you didn’t have the luxury of running away and hiding anymore, not when there were people who needed you. 

“Hope’s bags are in the barracks. He just needs to grab them, and he can be on his merry way,” The direction grunts. “Monster’s still locked up, so I’ll-”

“I’ll go.” You can feel Mr. Seo stiffen beside you. 

“Ms. Y/N-”

“If he’s really that aggressive,” you start, your eyes not leaving the director’s for a moment. “Wouldn’t it be better for me to meet him now instead of when we’re packed into a car on a two hour car ride?” Director Lim narrows his eyes at you, but you don’t falter. You hold your hand out for the key. Your boldness surprises you. He drops the key ring into your open palm and you wrap your fingers around it, stuffing it in your pocket before he can snatch them back. You turn on your heels and march off in the direction he tilts his head in, nothing but a hiss of your name from Mr. Seo’s lips to accompany you. 

You walk quickly, eyes straight and willing your legs to go faster with every stride. It’s a long way across the compound but the less time you spend walking, the less time you have to stew in anxiety. None of the hybrids training in little packs spread across the yard pay you any mind- except for Hope. 

Your path takes you directly behind the group of kids he’s working with. You give them a wide berth, not wanting to disturb them, but you get a little distracted. Your steps slow for just a moment as you drink him in. He’s tall- the same height as Taehyung, if you’re judging it right, but there’s an ease about him the tiger hybrid hasn’t yet mastered. Everything about Taehyung is pulled in. He’s always coiled tight, like he’s preparing to spring forward at any moment, all his energy drawn into the center of his being. Even last night, when you’d been cuddled up with him on the couch, he’d pulled you tight against his side, shifting and rearranging himself til you both fit on one cushion. He’d held you tight through both films, his tail curled around the both of you and his spine tight, like if he let himself relax for a moment, you’d both turn to dust on the wind. 

Hope has no such fear. Everything about him is spread wide open, from the heart-shaped smile on his lips to his arms as he demonstrates a series of punches to his little pack of students. They all watch him with rapt attention, ears perked up and bandaged tails wagging. One of them asks him a question and he laughs, ruffles their hair. He laughs in a way you’ve never seen before, shoulders shaking like he can’t contain the force of it alone. It makes your heart flip. 

His ears twitch, picking up the change in the cadence of your footsteps. He looks up and your eyes meet for the first time. He looks surprised to see you, for a moment, face blank- but then it melts into a soft smile, brimming with affection you’ve done nothing to earn. You snatch your gaze away and fix it to the dirt in front of you, embarrassed at being caught. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see him cock his head to the side in confusion, but he doesn’t go after you. All the better, you’re all but running away from him now. 

You shuffle across the compound in a blur of scuffed sneakers and frayed nerves. You barely give yourself time to look up at the small cinder block building before you, shoving the key in the padlock before you can lose what unearned confidence you have left. You twist it, yank the rusted thing open, take a deep breath and enter.

You don’t know what you’d been expecting, but it’s certainly not what you find. The way Director Lim had spoken about him and this place, you’d been expecting cobwebs on the ceiling, blood spatters on the wall and rusty nails on the floor. What’s before you is almost entirely the opposite.

The room is a veritable Eden. 

There are vines climbing every available wall, wrapping around structural posts and digging their way between concrete blocks. Every surface is crammed full of flowering plants in makeshift pots: lilies in old water jugs, violets in a worn out boot, black-eyed susans dripping orange petals from an upturned helmet. The floor is in a similar state, ferns and foxgloves turning what little space around his bed there is into a meadow. It’s beautiful. 

“He likes green things,” you marvel, stepping into the room and pushing the door shut behind you. It seemed every living thing that’d been uprooted to expand the compound had found a second life here, sheltered from the Director’s violence. Maybe the hybrid who lived here had too. 

A plant different from all the others catches your eye. It’s set up on the cardboard box serving as his bedside table and it’s the only one in a real pot from what you can tell. It looks just like a miniature tree, complete with knobs on it’s trunk and tiny leaves. You let out a little sound of wonder and crouch in front of it, your fingers reaching out on their own to trail across the delicate branches-

A massive hand wraps around your wrist, stopping you cold. “Don’t touch that.” 

You hadn’t heard him approach, but now you knew he was there. You could feel his presence behind you, heavy and warm. He’s looming over you. You swallow and make your arm go limp in his grip. No need to give him a reason. “I won’t,” You tell him. “Will you please let go of my wrist?”

He drops your arm without protest and relief floods your body. You weren’t sure if there was a hybrid version of lockjaw and you certainly weren’t itching to find out. You sit back on your heels and struggle to your feet, still hyper aware of the person behind you, his eyes boring holes into the back of your head. By the time you turn around, he’s back where he came from, standing in the entrance for a bathroom you hadn’t seen, half hidden behind a curtain of vines. 

He looks different than the others. You’d been expecting that, but the full-length fluffy tail held stiffly behind his back and the long-furred ears pointed away from you are still a surprise. His fur, instead of being in rigid black and tan points, is marked by whorls of black, brown and gray. Instead of the lean musculature all the other hybrids had -all trim waists and narrow ankles- he’s sturdier, his shoulders broad and the veins in his forearms popping as he clenches his fists. He’s looking at you with that mismatched glare, his chin tilted toward his chest and his eyes shining aquamarine and obsidian. 

“If you’re new,” he starts, voice raspy. “They should’ve told you: you’re supposed to knock before you come in.”

“No, I’m not-”

“You can leave the food over there.” He nods toward a little plastic folding table jammed into one corner. It’s the one surface in his room that’s devoid of plants and there’s nothing on it besides a metal cafeteria tray, licked clean. “I won’t move when your back is turned.”

“I’m not here to deliver your food.”

He frowns, brows drawing together as his shoulders tense. “Then why are you…?”

You ball your hands up in your sweater sleeves and turn to face him full on. “I’m here to take you home with me.” You tell him. “They didn’t tell you?”

He laughs, but it’s a cold sound, devoid of joy. “Nobody tells me anything.”

Based on the short conversation you’d had with Director Lim, his sudden cancellation of contracts and the way he seemed ready to bulldoze over anything and everyone that didn’t fit his agenda, he didn’t seem the sharing type. Still it was hard to believe he hadn’t told him he’d be leaving the compound that’s been his home for over twenty years. 

“You don’t have to come with me,” you add, softly. “If you don’t want to. I know I’m a stranger. But you can leave-”

“I can’t go anywhere.” He taps the collar around his neck. At first, you’d thought it was the same as the ones every other hybrid had been wearing. You can see now that it isn’t. Theirs had all been leather with thin silver buckles holding them in place. His was leather too, but the band was broader and double-layered. There’s a little box on the side with hinges and a small drawing of a lighting bolt. A shock collar. 

Your stomach turns. 

You take a slow step toward him, but the second you do, his ears go flat against his head and he pulls his lips back, revealing sharp teeth. You freeze, hands held up and the keys dangling from your thumb. “I have the keys,” you say, extending them toward him. 

His eyes flick from your face, to the keys in your hand and back again, like he doesn’t believe what’s happening, like he can’t believe you’d actually want him free. The silence drags out into a little eternity before he speaks again. “If I try to unlock it, it’ll shock me.”

You blink up at him and risk another slow step forward, hoping you’ve caught his meaning correctly. This time, he doesn’t growl but his ears stay pinned back as he watches you through narrowed eyes. You close the distance between the two of you. 

When you were six, your mom scraped together enough money to take you to Busan for your birthday. You’d spent the day down at the beach, building sand castles with sea shell windows and wading through tide pools. After the sun had set, someone had set off fireworks and you’d watched them cuddled up in your mom’s arms, eyes wide and filled with a riot of colors you had no name for. It’s strange, you know. The ocean is miles away, but that’s what he smells like: the sea and the sand, and the last curls of smoke from homemade bottle rockets. He smells like that day. 

You lift your hands to the clasp on his neck and slide the key home. You twist it and the collar falls to the ground, a monster that can’t hurt him anymore. His skin is warm under your fingers, but puckered with scar tissue. There’s a ring of it around his neck, branching with whatever current had run through him in different directions. There’s no way this was legal, no way anyone with half a heart could treat another person like this. Your fingers trail one of the splits over his adam’s apple and he swallows beneath your touch, snatching your wrist again. 

“Dont.” His voice is cold. You blink, shaking off whatever spell you’d been under and shuffle back quickly, eager to give him space. He cradles his throat with one long-fingered hand, massaging the skin. He rolls his neck and you look away. You shouldn’t stare; the last thing you want is to make him uncomfortable. “I’ll go with you,” he rasps, answering the question before you can ask it again.

You gape for a second. You really hadn’t expected it to be that easy. “Really?” You can’t stop a note of relief from creeping into your voice.

“Anywhere’s better than here.” He answers back. So, you were a means to an end. It doesn’t bother you. You’ll be whatever you need to be to get him away from this place and that man who seemed to only want to drive him down. 

“Do you need time to pack, or-?”

He gives a firm shake of his head. “There’s nothing from this place I want to keep.” And that’s the end of it. You push open the door and stride back out into the cold mountain air, trying your best to exude the confidence you know you lack. The hybrid slinks behind you, head hunched between his shoulders and every step stiff. He hesitates at the threshold and looks up at you, uncertainty written in the rigid line of his spine. He’s nervous. He has every right to be. 

How long had he spent in that little cinderblock room, shut away from every living thing? How long had he spent being told that he was a monster? You didn’t believe it, not for one second. No one who was as violent as the director had painted him out to be could’ve raised that garden. 

He leans out of the door frame, sniffs the air and lurches forward, out of the shadow of his room, His shoulders bunch up even higher around his head and he goes stiff like he’s waiting for a shock or a shot or a shout- but none comes. The sun is still shining and he’s barefoot in the sand, standing for the first time in years under the open sky. He exhales in a short puff and it looks like he’s going to walk beside you- but he turns on his heels on goes back inside. 

You make a little noise of distress in the back of your throat. Had he changed his mind? Did he not want to come with you anymore? You go to call his name out of concern- but realize you don’t know it. All you have is the call sign he’d been given and you sure as fuck aren’t calling him ‘Monster’. You don’t have to flounder for long. He comes back out two seconds later, cradling the bonsai that’d caught your attention to his chest. 

“I’ll take this,” he mutters, shuffling into place behind you. You can’t smother the smile that starts tugging at your lips. Yeah, no one hateful would hold a little tree with as much tenderness as an infant. 

You give him a little nod. “There’s a terrace where I live,” you tell him, starting your trek across the yard once again. “It’s got a garden and a little greenhouse on it. It’s not very big, and it’s not as pretty as your’s, but you could grow new things there, if you wanted.”

His ears twitch in response, but he keeps his glower firmly focused on the plant in his arms as he shuffles along beside you. It’s then you notice he’s barefoot. “Do you wanna go back and get your shoes?” You ask, trying to make the question sound as innocuous as possible.

“Don’t have any,” he grumbles back. “Don’t need them; I never go outside.” 

Alright, that was understandable. Your first stop when you got back into the city would be a shoe store to get him a pair to wear- or maybe not with the way he kept flinching every time a whistle blew and his ears were swivelling like satellites at each new sound that reached them. You chew the inside of your lip. You don’t want to ask, but you know you should. Better to rip the bandaid off now, than get surprised later. “How long were you shut in for?”

“Fourteen.” He bites out. 

“...weeks?” You venture. There's a hopeful uptick at the end of your words. Even that would’ve been horrible, even that would be worthy of the litany of profanity you’re mentally lobbing at Director Lim- but it’s still better than the truth. 

The hybrid cuts a flat look at you out of the corner of his eyes. “Years.” 

A wall of your scent hits him like a freight train, vacillating between the thick, cloying odor of sadness and the burn of anger. His nose wrinkles at it, brows drawing together in confusion. 

However little you might’ve known about hybrids, however limited your view of them was, you knew they weren’t supposed to be locked up. Domesticated hybrids like hamsters and cats might’ve been fine inside a house all day, assuming they still had regular interaction with people- but dogs weren’t. And he was half wolf. Wild, he’d have had dozens of square miles to roam over, and he’d been limited to a four-by-four yard room for fourteen years. Your goshiwon was a similar size, but it hadn’t been your whole world. All he’d had was one tiny window and what narrow view he’d managed to glimpse in the doorway when his meals were delivered. 

You open your mouth to say something, anything, but you’re cut off by a scream of delight and a snarl keying up in the hybrid next to you’s chest. Your jaw snaps shut with a click. 

A few yards ahead, there’s a group of kids wrestling in a massive pile. They’re all giggling and rolling over each other, tails wagging a mile a minute as they play bite and make grabs for the person at the center of their puppy pile. A head of black hair and a pair of cropped ears pop up and you see that it’s Hope, smiling bright as the sun as his students try to pin him. 

“You can’t leave!” One particularly determined kid yips, adamantly pushing his shoulder back to the sand. “Who’s gonna teach us?”

Hope just laughs.”Lisa is gonna teach you with the older kids-“

A chorus of disappointed barks and howls breaks out. “Ms. Lisa’s classes are too hard!” A little girl complains.

“Yeah!” Someone else chimes in. “And she’s strict!” 

The hybrid ruffles both kid’s hair affectionately, careful of their bandaged ears. “Just because she won’t let you get away with skipping night practice doesn’t mean she’s strict,” he laughs. He’s only met with more grumbles and complaints. 

It warms your heart to see. Even if these kids were at the mercy of their director -for now, at least- it was good that they had him to rely on. Your eyes meet and the sheer force of light in his face makes your own heat up. You look away, but he’s spotted you. He disentangles himself from the mess of kids and draws himself up to his full height. He’s in the same uniform he was in before, albeit with a black tactical bag now strapped to his back. He takes a step toward you and the wolfdog hybrid's ears go flat against his skull. He’s not deterred. “Joonie?”  It takes you a second to realize he’s talking to the hybrid next to you. “Kim Namjoon, is that you?” Hope takes one step forward and the hybrid - Namjoon - takes a step back to counter him. Hope looks like he’s going to advance again, but a small pair of hands wrapped around one of his own stops him. 

A little girl is holding on to him. She can’t be more than six years old. Her tail is still long and her ears are still floppy and she looks so small in her child-sized boots and cargo pants. “Mr. Hobi,” she whines, her head craned back to look up at him. “Please don’t go.”

He falters. His eyes flick from the pair of you back down to her, then he crouches, holds both of her hands in his. “I have to, Sowon-ah,” he says softly. 

She sniffles pitifully and juts out her lower lip.”But why?” 

It’s a fair question. You’re about to tell him that he doesn’t have to come with you if he  doesn’t want to, but he beats you to the punch. “Because it’s my job, sweetheart,” he tells her, smiling softly.

“Y-your job is to teach us,” she hiccups back, face growing blotchy as tears well up in her eyes. Hope swipes one of them away with his thumbs. 

“I teach you so you can grow up well and protect your person, right?” She nods, little hands balling the fabric of her cargo pants up in her fists. “Right. Well this,” he continues, turning and looking at you with a soft smile. “Is my person. And I’ve gotta go make sure she stays safe.” 

You feel your heart jump into your throat. He’s looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky and you don’t deserve it. You’ve done nothing to warrant that much unearned loyalty. Sowon rubs at her eyes with the back of her hands and Hope pulls her into a tight hug. 

“Ah, don’t cry, Sowon! You’ve gotta make sure you get stronger so someone takes you home, okay? You don’t wanna get old and still be here like me, right?” He squeezes her and goes to stand, but gets mobbed by his students again, all wanting their own hugs and making him swear to write them letters. It takes another five minutes of tearful goodbyes and Director Lim approaching for them to turn him loose.

“Get back to your training, all of you!” He barks, stomping out of the office and slamming the door, Mr. Seo on his heels. The kids scatter to the four winds almost instantly, not wanting to be underfoot for whatever scolding the director was about to deal out. Hope’s face remains the same but you catch his ears droop just a little as his students leave him. The wolfdog hybrid- Namjoon, you remind yourself- on the other hand has his ears flat against his skull. A growl bubbles up in his chest and rips past his lips. It’s a dark, full bodied thing that has you taking a step back and Hope shrinking with a whine. 

“Joonie-” he pleads. 

“Don’t fucking call me that.” All the fur on Namjoon’s body is standing on end, from the points of his ears to the tip of his tail. Even his hair has fluffed out. His mismatched eyes are narrowed, lips pulled back in a snarl that reveals his incisors and all that fury, all that rage, is leveled on Director Lim. 

To his credit, the grizzled man doesn’t shrink back an inch before the enraged hybrid. His lips twist and he yanks a little remote out of his pocket, mashing a red button in the center. Namjoon flinches, his hands fly to his neck- but nothing happens. The shock collar is gone and the director has no power over him anymore. 

The man in question’s eyes widen, flicking between the remote to the column of Namjoon’s throat, now devoid of his one element of control. “Where’s his collar?” He demands. “How the hell did you get your collar off?” He advances on the tall hybrid, his hand in the air and though he doesn’t stop snarling, Namjoon ducks his head, anticipating the blow. 

You don’t know what moves you. Maybe it’s Hope pleading for it all to ‘stop, just stop!’. Maybit’s how Namjoon knows exactly how to move when he’s about to get hit. Maybe it’s your own lack of self-preservation. Whatever it is, you blink and you’re in front of Namjoon, your hand up and clutching the director’s forearm, stopping him from striking the hybrid behind you. You’re not strong enough to stop him, not fully. Your elbow buckles in and you stumble back, your back pressing into the wolfdog hybrid’s chest.

The director yells something at you, red flooding his face. You can’t hear him over the rushing of blood in your ears, the pounding of your heart. You force a dry swallow down your throat, put on your bravest face and glare up at him. “Don’t hurt him anymore.”

He reaches out with his free hand to tug you out of the way, but before he can touch you, Hope is there. He presses close to your side and holds the director’s wrist firm, his eyes on the sand and his shoulders hunched up by his ears.

Director Lim looks angry enough to spit. “Hell of a time for you to grow a backbone,” he snarls at Hope, making the doberman hybrid flinch. “I want all four of you off my property now.” He snatched his arms free and you don’t miss the nasty glare he casts at Namjoon. “And if this mutt ever shows his face around here again, I’ll-”

“Director Lim,” Mr. Seo cuts in, his voice cool. “You’ve made yourself clear; we’ll leave. You needn’t make threats.” There’s an underlying warning in the attorney’s voice. The director locks his jaw.

“Get out.” He breathes. Hope ducks around him, his head low and his docked tail pressed close to his back. If he could tuck it, you think he would. You follow after him, eyes fixed straight ahead and your back ramrod straight. He might’ve scared the shit out of you, but you weren’t going to let him see that. Mr. Seo fixes you with a hard look and the second you’re within arms reach, he presses a hand to your back and ushers you toward the gate. The only one who remains is Namjoon.

He looks like his anger has rooted him to the spot. His ears are still flat against his head, his lip still curled. 

“Do it, boy,” the director taunts. “Give me a reason-”

“Namjoon.” At the sound of his name, his ears prick up and you turn around. It’d come not from Hope- which you’d expected, seeing as he seemed to be the only one who actually knew his fellow hybrid’s name- but from the open door of the office building where Eunjung stood. She looks at him, her expression unreadable and he stares back. All the tension in his body has shifted and for a moment, you think he’s going to spring toward her and fall into her arms- but she gives an almost imperceptible shake of her head and his face hardens. His arms tighten around his bonsai. You think you know, now, why it was the only plant in his room that had a pot. 

“Go,” she says and all the tension leaves him. His shoulders curve in and he drags himself past the director, out from the fence and toward Mr. Seo’s car. There’s something final about the way the gate rolls shut after him. If you hadn’t known better, you’d’ve sworn you heard him whine as it locked. 

The car ride down the mountain is...interesting to say the least. Hope insists that the seating arrangements inside the Buick be done to his specifications,( “You’ve gotta sit in the middle,” he tells you, pointing to the narrow center seat. “And Joonie and I will sit on either side of you to protect you in case we crash!” His tail is wagging a mile a minute behind him. You’re surprised it can move that much, given how short it is. Mr. Seo looks affronted at the unintentional jab at his driving and Namjoon just looks irritated. “I told you to stop calling me that.”) and he keeps throwing an arm across your middle everytime the car hits a bump. You’re going down the side of a mountain. There are a lot of bumps. He also keeps pressing his nose against the glass of his window, ears pricked up and trying to take in every tree that passes by. Namjoon, on the other hand, slouches back in his seat, his body curved around his plant and ever so slightly away from you. He still watches the world pass by, but he doesn’t acknowledge any of you or speak- which would be fine if anyone else would. Hope seems to be doing his best to appear stoic and alert every time you look at him and Mr. Seo seems comfortable with the quiet. So, you’re left to ride the two hours back to Seoul in silence. 

You almost cry with relief when your phone buzzes with an incoming text. You fish the device out of your pocket, thumb it to life and scan your notifications.

Unknown Sender [7:13 PM] where are you

You frown. Very few people had your number or any reason to text you. You’re about to chalk it up to a wrong number when the second text rolls in.

Unknown Sender [7:14 PM] it’s yoongi

Now that’s a surprise. When you’d hurriedly told the boys to text you, you’d been expecting Jimin to urge you to hurry or for Taehyung to ask for updates, not for their hyung to check your progress. A little smile pricks at your lips as you rush to reply

You [7:14 PM] We’re on the way back now!

Unknown Sender has been changed to Yoongi 

Yoongi [7:14 PM] can i call

You bite the inside of your lip, suddenly nervous. You know there’s no reason to be. After all, you tell yourself, what’s scary about a pair of roommates talking on the phone? You give him the go ahead and not three seconds after the delivered notification pops up, you get a call. You answer it on speaker.

“...Hello?”

“Did you just start driving?” Yoongi’s voice is thick with sleep, like he’s just woken up. It’s different than normal, his usual smooth drawl gone gravelly. 

“Y-yeah,” you reply, trying to ignore the way Hope is watching you out of the corner of his eyes and Namjoon’s ears have swiveled back toward you. “It’s gonna be awhile, still. Are Taehyung and Jimin-”

“They’re fine; They ate dinner earlier and they’ll be asleep til you get back.” He yawns and you picture him slouched on the couch, his hair mashed up on one side and his face puffy.  “Why do you sound nervous?”

“I’m not,” you counter. It’s a blatant lie and he knows it. He hums in doubt, but doesn’t press you.

“I’ll see you when you get back.”

“Do you want me to text you when we’re close?” It’s an innocuous question. There’s no reason you can see for him to pause as long as he does. For a second you think you’ve lost him- after all, mountains aren’t known for having great reception- but then you hear his breath fan over the receiver. 

“...Yeah.” 

You give a little nod you know he can’t see. “Okay.” He makes a little noise of assent and then his line clicks off. You hang up. Just as you do, another text comes through. 

Yoongi [7:16 PM] don’t let them scent you

“Who was that?” Hope asks in a small voice, pulling you away from your phone screen and Yoongi’s insistence that you remain scent-free. His tone is open, but you can tell by the way his knee is bouncing that he really, really wants to know. “Is that your husband?”

The bark of laughter that rips past your lips is out before you can think to stop it. Namjoon flinches and you wince at him in apology, your hand flying up to cover your mouth. Hope is frowning at you in confusion, his head cocked slightly to the side. You force yourself to calm and answer him. “No, Yoongi is not my husband.” You weren’t sure if you even really qualified as friends at this point. “He’s another hybrid that lives with me.”

Hope perks up in his seat. “You have another hybrid? Director Lim always told us that once we left the center, we’d be alone.” Your expression sours at the mention of the ill-tempered man and you shake your head. 

“No, there’s a lot of hybrids in Seoul,” you tell him, eager to dispel some of his misconceptions. “The three that live with me are named Yoongi, Jimin and Taehyung. Yoongi’s around your age, I think. Jimin and Taehyung are younger.” The doberman hybrid sits at rapt attention, soaking up every bit of information you give him and waiting eagerly for more. What else could you tell him about them? You remember the boys’ reaction that morning when you told them you’d be bringing dog hybrids home. “...They’re all felines,” you say, slowly, trying to gauge their reactions. 

“So that’s why you smell like that.” It’s the first words Namjoon’s spoken since you all piled into the car. You turn to him, but he’s not looking at you.

“What do you-?”

“You smell like other hybrids,” Hope says, covering for him. “But I’ve never smelled any that weren’t other dogs before.” He leans closer, his seatbelt stretching. You tense and lean away from him, but he’s not deterred. The tip of his nose brushes your neck and you have to fight off a shiver as he breathes you in. “They smell the same…” he starts, his breath fanning over your throat. “...but different? And one of them isn’t as strong as the others-” He presses closer, trying to catch the scent that’s eluding him. You make a noise of mild distress and lean further back, pressing into the solid wall that is Namjoon. 

“Hoseok, let it go .” Hoseok. That was his real name then. To your surprise, the dog hybrid pulls back as instructed, settling back into his seat without so much as a whine.

“I’ve never met a cat before,” he muses, turning his attention back to the window. “I hope they’re nice.”

You think about the chorus of hisses you’d been met with when you told the boys they’d have to share their space. You hope so too.

It’s 9:30 by the time Mr. Seo drops you off back in front of your building. He wishes you a good night and promises to call later in the week to discuss Black Mountain Canines. You’re not sure if there’s anyone to report him to or anything you can do, but you want to try. What you’d seen at the compound was wrong any way you looked at it. It made you sick to leave anyone there knowing how the director treated Namjoon and Hoseok. No one was useless. No one deserved to be locked away for years at a time for the sheer crime of existing. You’d make them see that. 

The moment you step out of the car, Hoseok is all wide smiles and exclamations. “Woah, you live here?” he asks, tilting his head back to take in all fifty-one floors of Haneul Tower in their sparkling, glass-paned glory.

“Yeah,” you tell him, handing him his bag. In his excitement to get out of the car, he’d abandoned it and Mr. Seo had nearly driven away with it. “But I just moved in a couple days ago, so it’s still pretty empty.”

Hoseok nods, scanning the windows like he’ll be able to pick out which one’s your’s. Behind you, Namjoon is lingering on the sidewalk.

He’s still got his bonsai clutched close to his chest and he’s hunched down around it like he’s trying to stop unseen hands from picking at it. His shoulders are bunched up by his ears, and he flinches with every car horn, every siren that comes to you on the wind. He’d grown up in the mountains and spent the better part of his life indoors. It only made sense that he’d be sensitive to the sounds of the city. 

“Is there a security system?” Hoseok asks, still enamored with the building. “How many entrances does your apartment have?”

“Just one second,” you tell him, forehead wrinkling as you take in Namjoon. You slide slowly toward the wolfdog, not wanting to startle him. “Namjoon?” He flinches when you call his name, head whipping toward you. “Do you wanna go inside? I know it’s new, but it’ll be quieter, I think.”

His mismatched eyes flick from you, to Hoseok, to the building and back to you before settling firmly on the concrete at his feet. He seems different than he had in the mountains. He’s smaller, quieter, less sure of himself. Was it because this is all new territory for him? Or had the snarling hybrid in the mountains just been a roll he was forced to play, the mythic monster to the director’s tyrant king. 

“You don’t have to go inside if you don’t want to,” you tell him, in a voice you hope is reassuring. “We can wait, if you need to.”

“I’ll wait with you, Joonie,” Hope chimes in, giving the larger hybrid the same soft smile he’d given his students earlier. 

He swallows, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “It...it’s fine,” he mutters, “We can go in, I just…” He takes a few hesitant steps forward and huddles closer to you. There’s still an inch between you, but it’s closer than you’d thought he’d come. 

You peer up at him. “Okay?” You ask. He gives a single nod and your little group moves through the double doors and into the lobby. 

It’s quieter at this time of night. You don’t recognize the woman standing behind the reception desk. There’s no one really around except one man, pacing the width of the lobby looking thoroughly put out. You can’t really see his face, but there’s something familiar about the slant of his body. He whirls around as the glass doors click shut and you catch sight of a fringe of gray hair, pointed ears, narrowed yellow eyes and an all too familiar pout. 

Yoongi. 

“Fuck.” You’d completely forgotten to text him. Judging by the look on his face as he stalks toward you, he wasn’t happy about it. To his credit, Hoseok does his best to guard you, sliding in front of you and pushing you behind him. You can’t see Yoongi’s ears beneath the hat he’s wearing but if his curled lip and narrowed eyes are any indicator, they’re pinned straight back. 

“Move.” He snarls at the doberman hybrid. Hoseok is taller than he is, but the closer Yoongi gets to him, the smaller he seems to shrink. There’s fire in the bobcat hybrid’s eyes. Hope whimpers and slinks out of his way, ears low. 

You wince. “Heeeeey, Yoongi. I’m sorry I forg-“ before you can even finish the sentence, he tugs you toward him by the shoulders. His face roves your neck, sniffing in earnest as he tries to pick up the scent of the other hybrids on you. All is well until he reaches the right side of your throat and grazes over the exact spot Hoseok had nosed earlier. He pulls away slowly, his shoulders tight. His head turns slowly to the doberman hybrid, mechanical. 

“You.” He hisses at the other hybrid with so much virulence it makes your blood run cold. He takes one step toward him, teeth bared in a snarl, but Namjoon slides in front of him bumping him back. A growl bubbles in the bobcat hybrid’s chest and the wolfdog matches it, both their ears pinned flat against their skulls. 

“Hey-” If either of them hear you, they don’t react. They’re too focused on having a staring contest. “Hey!” You push between them, a hand on either of their chests. Namjoon snarls as you touch him and Yoongi looks ready to skin him alive for that alone. He pushes against your hand, trying to get closer to the taller hybrid. You ball your hand up in the fabric of his shirt. “Stop it!” The receptionist already has the lobby phone in her hand. She’s whispering earnestly into it and you’re sure security will be on the way any second. You exhale and squeeze your eyes shut. “Everybody, elevator.” 

Yoongi hurls an accusatory finger in Hoseok’s direction. “These fucking-”

“Yoongi, please,” you plead. That gets him to stop. His arm falls to his side and he glowers down at you for a few seconds before stalking over to the elevators and slamming the up button. “I’m sorry,” you murmur to Hoseok and Namjoon. The smaller of the two hybrids is still hunched in on himself and the taller has Yoongi fixed in his mismatched gaze, his lips curled in anger. 

This was not the way you wanted this to go. You’d wanted them to have time to settle before you discussed next steps and gave them the same talk you’d given the felines, but it didn’t look like that was in the cards. You don’t know what’s gotten into Yoongi. You’d thought the bobcat hybrid was calm, cool and collected, completely unflappable in the face of anything. Apparently not. He seemed upset that some of Hoseok’s scent had gotten on you, but there’d been no way to help that. You’d been packed in a car with him and Namjoon for two hours. It was inevitable, wasn’t it?

“It’s not okay,” you tell them, wanting them to know you didn’t condone the way Yoongi had acted. “I don’t...I don’t know why he’s acting like this; he doesn’t normally. Do you wanna go up separately?”

It’s Hoseok who answers. “No, we’ll go up together,” he assures you with a small nod. “If...maybe if we get used to each other, it’ll be okay?” 

You’re not optimistic, but you give him a pained smile you hope is reassuring. “Yeah, maybe?” You cast a look back over your shoulders. Yoongi is waiting by the elevators, his arms crossed over his chest and his tail flicking in irritation. The elevator dings and the doors slide open. Well, there was no avoiding it. “Come on,” you tell them. “Just...keep to the other side, for now. I’ll stand between you and him.” 

The four of you pile into the elevator, all tucked into your own corners. It’s strange, you think. It’s never seemed small until now. Hoseok keeps casting worried looks over at you, Namjoon keeps subtly shifting closer and Yoongi is still glowering at the both of them, angry for a reason you can’t quantify. 

“If it helps,” Hoseok starts softly, his voice an intrusion in the awkward silence. “I really didn’t mean to, honestly-”

“Don’t apologize.” Namjoon counters. “If it bothers him that much, he can speak up” 

You don’t know what they’re talking about. It’s too late that you realize the canines aren’t addressing you. Suddenly, Yoongi’s fingers are hooked through one of your belt loops. He yanks you backwards and you stumble, falling against the length of his body. “My bad,” You shoot out, before the hybrid can hiss at you. “I just lost my bala-” The words die on your tongue as Yoongi fixes his mouth to the soft skin of your throat. The elevator goes quiet.

The canine hybrids avert their eyes almost instantaneously, instinct telling them they’re witnessing something they shouldn’t be. Yoongi keeps them fixed firmly in his sights, a dark growl bubbling in his throat. 

Your fingers flex uselessly at your sides, hands clenching unclenching as the hybrid works over the sensitive skin of your neck with his teeth and tongue. ‘Don’t make a noise,’ you plead with yourself. ‘This isn’t what it feels like. Don’t make a noise, don’t make a noise, don’t make a noise-’ Yoongi’s incisors graze over a vein and a little whimper slips past your lips before you can stop it. The grip he has on your hips becomes bruising. You feel your legs turning to jelly beneath you. Any more of what he was doing, and they’d have to mop you up off the elevator floor. You force your throat to swallow. “Y-Yoongi, I think that’s enough-” You don’t know if he hears you over the noise he’s making, so you lace your fingers through his and untangle them from your hips. He releases you with a wet pop and you slap a hand over the skin he’d marked. Heat floods your face and a smirk spreads across Yoongi’s, his teeth flashing at the canines. He leans in again to rub his nose against the mark he’d made- but a hand on his chest stops him. 

“Can you stop?” You ask in a small voice. Honestly, you’re embarrassed. Regardless of what the articles said about mark-making being platonic, it doesn’t feel friendly. It feels possessive and mean and you don’t like it. “I’m sorry I didn’t text you like you asked, but what is with you today?” Yoongi’s expression changes from smug satisfaction to confusion and then surprise, like he hadn’t expected you to protest. “I know what I said about you being ready but…” You rub a hand over the mark, wiping away saliva and your sweat. The bobcat hybrid visibly deflates. The elevator chimes for the fiftieth floor and the doors roll open slowly. You rush out before any of them can and start punching the code in your door with shaky fingers. You don’t know what to say. You’re tired and stressed and you don’t know what’s going on. Was this about the apartment? You knew the felines wouldn’t be happy about sharing their space, but why had Yoongi gone this far?

“Y/N…” He trails after you, his ears drooping. You shake your head, You can’t talk to him right now. 

“In the morning,” you tell him as the door swings open. “We’ll talk about it in the morning.” You can’t deal with everything that’s happened today, and Yoongi flipping out and getting the canines settled. You weren’t that good at juggling. 

By the grace of all that’s merciful, Taehyung and Jimin are still asleep when you walk in. You’d need to have an extended meet and greet tomorrow, you decide. Maybe do some icebreakers or team building exercises. If they reacted anything like their hyung did, you were in for one hell of an adjustment period. 

Hoseok and Namjoon trail you into the penthouse warily, sniffing the air. You want to give them time to explore and get their bearings, they deserve that, but with the way Yoongi still seems agitated when they venture anywhere but exactly in your steps, that’ll need to be saved until tomorrow morning too. You give them the most spartan tour you can muster up and show them each to a guest room, promising to order them furniture and get them the things they need tomorrow. 

By the time you collapse into your own bed, it’s damn near 11. You groan and drag a pillow over your face as you ask the universe for the thousandth time why it had decided to continuously kick your ass. Having three hybrids had been hard enough. Having five of all different species was likely to prove impossible and having seven was going to be a sisyphean task you’d had no training for. You groan and kick your feet in the air, allowing yourself the brief respite of a temper tantrum before crawling under your covers and flicking the lamp off. Maybe in your dreams there’d be no stress and no snarling hybrids with behavior you couldn’t explain.

[dear-iu]

I got my album today & I love every detail of it. It’s such a beautiful little album made with so much love ♥️

[angelguk]

→ on my mind 02 — a jeongguk scenario

member: jeon jungkook

word count: 25.6k

genre: domestic!au + established relationship + fluff + smut + mild angst

warnings: slow build / oral sex (f & m receiving) / multiple smut scenes / over-stimulation / breeding kink / creampies / mentions of infertility / pregnancy is a central part of the story line / pregnancy sex / jeongguk just wants to be a good dad / i am so sorry if the editing is not up to par i tried my best / mild possessiveness / mentions of misogyny and an asshole manager

soundtracks: (they long to be) close to you, carpenters + to you, yoona & lee sang soon + someone’s shining, wisue + who knew, chloe x halle, + but i’m trying to tell you how much i love you, saevom + pretend, lee aram + when the wind blows, yoona + meet me in amsterdam, rini + she, jannabi

special thanks to: @gukkheaven for seeing the baby version of this fic <3 / @a-life-thats-next-to-normal for sharing some much needed baby info with me!

header credit @dee-ehn <3

read the first part here

The first time you buy a test, you don’t tell him.

It’s a Thursday afternoon and you arrive home first. Jeongguk had texted you that he would be late today because Namjoon needed him to work overtime on a file that was due. You had taken the rare opportunity to scurry to your local chemist and purchase a handful of pregnancy tests. You’d dumped the pink boxes on the counter, trying in vain to avoid the blatant stare of the cashier as she packaged them into a small black bag. The trek back home nerve-racking. Your heart pounding painfully against your chest, the scruff of your sneakers against the pavement the only accompaniment to the tension you felt weighing over your body. It was only when you had passed a playground, eyes skimming over the hordes of children joyously dandling from monkey bars and slipping down sliders with wide grins on their faces, did your heart momentarily calm down. Lulled by the sound of their laughter until your pulse was relaxed once more.

You could do this — it’s just a test.

The apartment is eerily silent when you click the door closed behind you. You heel your shoes off, sliding your feet into the downy slippers Jeongguk had picked up for you a while back. You dump the bag on the dining table, hands shaking as you dig for your phone in your bag. Your fingers tap on the familiar pink app on your screen and you read the text that you’ve been subtly denying for the past week. Your period is late. Sometimes you miss a day or two but a whole nine days had passed and mother nature hadn’t sent you the usual reminder that indicated that you were not with child.

For some reason, the words sent a thrill through your body. It wasn’t like you were taking precautions to avoid pregnancy - quite the opposite. Ever since Jeongguk had admitted his secret wish to you, you’d both taken every opportunity to make sure you’d get knocked up. Most of the apartment had been rechristened during those activities, particularly the couch. The moment you’d told him you wouldn’t mind carrying his child a spark of desire had reignited in Jeongguk that you hadn’t seen since you started dating five years ago.

But for some reason, nothing was working the way you’d expected it to be. With Jeongguk’s new robust sex drive, you expected to be pregnant within a month tops. Yet, your period appeared each month without fail and it hurt to see the doubt creep onto his face every time he brought you a hot water bottle to lessen the cramps wreaking havoc in your stomach. For a while, you thought you were infertile. You considered taking up the issue with your doctor but it was hard to acknowledge that you may be. That either of you may be. Not when both of you wanted this so bad.

The fact that your period had been missing for a significant amount of time in your perspective was both thrilling and alarming at the same time.

When you finally pick up one of the pregnancy tests, you take your time, reading over the instructions. Three times exactly. One-line means not pregnant, two lines indicate that you are. Not hard, right?

In the bathroom, you struggle to pee. Your hand is trembling as you hold the collection cup and your flow is unsteady despite the two bottles of water you’d chugged on the train ride home once Jeongguk told you he’d be late. Things work out, regardless of your nerves.

Once everything is done, your hands are clean and the two pregnancy tests you’d unwrapped are sitting flat on the counter of your bathroom, you fiddle with the timer app on your phone, setting it to five minutes.

Those are the longest five minutes of your life.

You leave the bathroom, unable to look before the set time, your bottom lip caught between your teeth. You can’t sit, so you pace around, slippers slapping the hardwood floorboards as you try to attempt to calm yourself down but fail miserably at it because the clock hanging in the living room is ticking too loud; it echoes in your head matching the beats of the seconds you’re mentally counting down. Outside of your apartment, someone’s shouting a passing greeting across the street, there’s the tickle of a bike bell and a gruff woof echoing from the throat of a dog. The sounds of life outside the panic bubble you’re currently in draws you to the window. You pad over, lean down to rest your elbows against the sill as your eyes take in the sight of the evening sun dipping behind the silhouettes of buildings. The sky bleeds orange and red, bright fuchsia pink and cornflower blue trailing behind their wake like silage. The view is partially obscured by murky grey clouds but beyond them, you can still spot the lavender tone the two colours create when they flux into each other.

The sight slows down your heartbeat, a sense of tranquillity washing over your body as if you’d been dipped into the ocean. It reminds you of the sea view both of you had left behind when you’d moved to Seoul four years ago. You can’t help but slip into a reverie, nose full of the ghost-like remnants of salty air, the sand you’d played in as a child a phantom caressing the soles of your feet. The sunsets in Busan were better but Seoul is where Jeongguk and you had crafted life together, even if you sometimes wished you had never left your hometown at all.

The alarm going off in the bathroom yanks you right back into your quaint little apartment. You take a deep breath and then rise. Your knees wobble as you walk to the bathroom, a sheen of sweat building in the palms of your hands. The sudden urge to just get this over with steadies your steps until you’re standing before the counter again, staring at your reflection in the mirror. There are dark bags underneath your eyes and your face carries the worries of the day. You look worn and you feel it too. Coupled with the extra pressure of trying and failing to get pregnant, there’s so much on your back right now it feels as if it’s bent over. You sigh, eyes still refusing to falter and look downwards at the results on your counter.

It takes you a moment to gather the courage to pluck up the first test.

Your breath is trapped in your throat and your eyes suddenly feel hot and wet. Your vision blurs up and your hands are shaking but even despite the tears falling down your cheeks, you can see the results.

It’s one line. Negative.

The other one reads the same and all you can do is try to remember how to breathe as you roughly wipe away your tears. Your hands are trembling as you wrap up and dispose of the two tests, shoving them into the trash before you pile more tissue on top of it, wishing you could hide from the shame you feel too. The black bag with the other tests gets tucked behind your pads in the cupboard. Jeongguk won’t question that, so it's the safest place to store it.

You head to the shower next, allowing the rushing water to sweep away the dried tear stains on your face, hoping it erases the crushing feeling of disappointment sitting on your chest too. But it doesn’t and even as you move around the kitchen to make dinner, your actions seem slow, languid in a bad way, held down by the fact that no matter what you can’t seem to get pregnant.

Jeongguk knows right away something is off.

He came home late as he said he would, pressed a kiss to your cheek and muttered a small greeting before heading to the shower. When he emerged once more in grey sweats and a worn white t-shirt, he’d plopped himself down at the dining table, gave you a quiet once over and then opened his mouth to gently say, “Your eyes are red.”

“Bad day at work,” you lie, placing a bowl of rice before him.

“Seungmin?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

You fall into a silence that should be comfortable but it isn’t. Every time you glance up Jeongguk is staring at you with a worried expression that makes your heart heavy. Even between bites of food, you can see his brain working, mulling over a way to make you feel better. Which sucks because Jeongguk shouldn’t be worrying about insignificant issues like this. He had a lot on his plate anyway. His extra hours at the office were taking a gradual toll on him. His eyes seemed hollower and he’d had to skip a couple of gym sessions so he didn’t even have his usual outlet for stress. There was a vein surfacing on his forehead and it pulsed every time he was thinking too hard about something. Like it was now. It hurt even more when you knew Jeongguk was putting all this stress on himself because he wanted to find a bigger place for his future family. The spare room you owned had long since been converted into his game room and he wasn’t about to give up that little luxury just yet. He was only taking on more responsibilities at the office because he believed that his future children deserve a place to run, play games, to just be a child. The image of the two negative tests linger before your vision and your heart breaks a little more because it feels like Jeongguk is working hard for something that’ll never become a reality.

He cleans up while you take your place on the couch. Even with the drone of the drama on the television and the clinking of dishes as Jeongguk washes up fills your apartment, you still can’t settle in and shake off the cloud that’s hanging above your head. When he does join you, Jeongguk lugs over the soft black blanket you’d whisked from Yoongi’s apartment, carrying his favourite bar of chocolate in his hands.

He shoves it in your direction, planting a soft kiss on your forehead. “Here, take this.”

“Why? It’s yours.” But you clasp your fingers around the plastic wrapping, the warmth of his lips against your skin ebbing through you.

He shrugs, shifting against you so that your legs are thrown over his and the blanket covers both of your bodies. Beneath it, his large warm hand searches for yours, latching around your fingers and giving them a gentle squeeze. “Take it. You said you had a bad day and chocolate always makes you feel better, doesn’t it?”

The corners of your mouth are lifting upwards as you tear the package open. It's mint flavoured. Jeongguk always had an affinity towards sweet mint flavoured things, and the chocolate melts on your tongue with ease. Slowly, the tension within you abates, your mind vaguely focusing on the screen before you, Jeongguk’s warm firm body burning beside you. You melt into him, breaking off pieces of chocolate and nudging them against his mouth until he parts his lips and allows you to drop them inside. His tongue trails against your fingertips despite the ‘gross’ you mutter into the evening air. All he does is laugh and pull you closer, brushing another swift kiss on your cheek. You settle against him, resting your head against the curve of his shoulder before the drama takes your attention. One of the characters had made a joke and the rise of Jeongguk’s chest beneath your head as he laughs calms you down so much that you can’t help but laugh too.

The evening winds down in this manner. Jeongguk unknowingly melting away the tension that had built up within you with each soft smile and laugh that he gives you as he talks about his day over the voices of the actors on screen. You listen intently, hoping you can take away some of his stress too until you’re struggling to keep your eyes open. He gently shakes you awake, taking your hand to guide you into bed where you promptly collapse between the sheets. You can hear his footsteps as he moves around, checking the doors and switching the lights off, but your mind feels foggy and your eyes are heavy.

When he settles in beside you, shirtless and having tucked away from the semi you don’t know he’s sporting, your breaths are slow and slumber is slipping over you. His arm finds its way over your waist and his chest is plastered against your back. You’re about to fall asleep, the dark deep wonders of rest right on the edge of your vision but you’re wiggling around, slotting the curve of your ass against Jeongguk’s crotch and that’s when you instantly wake up.

His erection is nudging against your ass and you can tell he’s still awake from the rise and fall of his chest behind you. He thinks you’re still sleeping because he doesn’t say anything, just trails a finger against the curve of your hips. The touch warms you even through the fabric of your pyjamas. But you’re suddenly on edge again, the negative tests flashing before your eyes. You were going to book an appointment with the doctor soon but would it hurt to try one more time before you did so? It really wouldn’t.

You wiggle against him harder, the growing curve of his cock against you eliciting a rush of slick from your cunt. When you grind into him, Jeongguk groans, a low rumble that slips from his throat. The grip on your hip draws taut. He knows you’re awake.

“If you keep doing that, we’re going to have a problem.”

You grin, hips still pushing backwards. “What if I’m willing to solve it?”

“I wouldn’t let you.”

You halt, ass still pressed against his crotch, the smile falling from your face and your arousal rapidly dissipating. Jeongguk’s pulling away before you can say anything, rising on his elbows so that he can look at you.

“I know Seungmin isn’t the reason why you were sad today. I saw the test boxes in the bathroom.”

It’s so quiet that you can hear the rush of blood filling your head. The tears you’d thought you’d run out of, reappear instantly, dripping down your cheeks. He wipes them away with a forlorn smile before shifting to wrap you in his warm arms. Your chest shudders with every breath you take but Jeongguk holds you together, whispering words of comfort against your ear.

“It’s okay, baby, it’s okay.” He holds you a little tighter when you start to hiccup against the crook of his neck, rubbing a large hand against your back.

When you finally calm down, you pull away, cheeks wet, to find that Jeongguk’s own eyes are tinged red too.

“Were they negative?” You nod, still, a little bit choked up. But then he smiles and moves to press a tepid kiss between your eyebrows. “Stop stressing. It’ll happen when it happens.”

“Getting pregnant shouldn’t be this hard. All I have to do is open my legs.”

“Hey,” He pats your damp cheek in chastisement. “Stop talking like that. You don’t have control over your body. Don’t blame yourself for things you can’t help. For all we know, this could be my fault.”

“It’s nobody’s fault.” You mutter. “I just - we’ve been trying for three months now and I don’t know what’s wrong.”

“We could go get checked. Both of us.” He’s pulling you closer again. “Don’t blame yourself, baby. Please.”

“I’m trying not to,” you whisper back, falling back into the comfort of his body. Jeongguk is like a pillar of strength for you, particularly when you feel like you have none left within you. And right now you don’t. But he holds you up, his hands caressing your skin softly, pushing off the worries that plague. You fall asleep like this, eyes crusty from crying and Jeongguk’s loving gaze watching over your features.

The next day, you book an appointment and try to ignore the nervous thoughts gnawing at your conscience.

Your period comes three days later and all that does is build on to the new feeling of resentment that you were developing against your uterus.

Jeongguk buys you your favourite chocolate, keeps your supply of hot water bottles going, cook’s dinner and tells you to stop worrying.

→

The late August afternoon sun warms your back as your drag Taehyung through the lake. You’ve got your arms wrapped around his neck in a playful choke-hold and despite his wild thrushes you manage to dunk him into the tepid lake water — retribution for what he did to you earlier. He’d shoved you right into the lake from atop some boulders, leaving you shocked and with water filling your nose for most of the afternoon. Somewhere in the background, you can hear Seokjin screaming at his twins because they’re copying your actions on each other and Jimin is hiding Bora from the two homicides about to take place in broad daylight.

You let go of Taehyung when he elbows you roughly and watch him rise to the surface, face tinged rose, but a good-natured boxy grin plastered on his features.

“If Jeongguk wouldn’t be able to beat my ass, I would end you Y/N,” he says.

You roll your eyes, playfully punching his arm. “Sure you would.”

Taehyung’s grin broadens. “I’m tempted to prove you wrong but you should get the boys before they murder each other.” He says before shaking his head. The droplets that fly from his mane obscure your vision so you twist around, waddling through the water, just in time to catch Minho body slam Minjoon into the water.

“Minho! You’re going to kill your brother!” Seokjin sounds beyond distressed, so on his behalf, you swim further into the water, and pull the two boys apart only to find them grinning wickedly at each other. They had just turned five and had reached the age where morbid violence was amusing instead of alarming.

“Boys, can we find something else to play instead? You’re going to send your father to an early grave.”

“What’s a grave?” Minjoon inquires, clinging to your waist as you haul them back to shore. Taehyung’s already out, meandering back to the cabins that belonged to Jimin’s affluent family. It was his idea to have a quick weekend getaway at the lake. He insisted that the kids needed to go out and play in the wild but he wanted to get everyone out of the house. The stress from work and studies were taking a huge toll on the relations within your group. You’d seen Yoongi and Namjoon argue for the first time in a while and it had been over whether Marvel was right in killing off Tony Stark. Yoongi had nearly thrown a plate at Namjoon’s head when he insisted that Tony deserved to die. That alone instantly made you agree to Jimin’s plan. You had to pack for Jeongguk too since he was swamped with work, another reason why everyone needed this mini vacation.

The man in question is nursing a beer by the grill, a languid grin on his face as he chats with Namjoon. The smile on his lips sends a rush of affection flooding through your heart because you hadn’t seen it for a while now. What with your uterus refusing to do its duty and the workload he was dealing with; you were glad he was taking a break now. He deserved it.

“A grave is where people go and sleep for a very long time,” You carefully respond, running a hand through Minho’s wet hair. They both have Seokjin’s bright eyes and the curiosity within them slightly unnerves you. “You should go ask your dad, he can explain it better.”

They shot off at that, sprinting to their father who’d given you a grateful smile when you’d dragged them out alive. Unfortunately, he was now trying to feed his third son Chansook, who was a stubborn eater according to his wife Seoyeon and coupled with the insistent pestering from the boys you could see him slowly going mad.

Instead of helping, as you should, to diffuse the situation, you head towards the kitchen, snatching up an oversized t-shirt on the way there. Seoyeon’s dashing from place to place, checking pots and pans with the help of Jimin’s wife Bora and Namjoon’s wife Eunbi. Yoongi and Hoseok take it upon themselves to cook the near twelve-packs of ramen needed to feed all the mouths present. You leave them to it, aware that Yoongi makes his ramen in a specific manner and you’d rather stay away than help him in case you ruined it. Seoyeon shoves a chopping board and some vegetables in your direction which you gladly take, settling beside Soomi.

“Is Bora outside?” She asks, slicing up a melon.

“Jimin’s got her. She’s fine.”

“Surprised she hasn’t cried yet. She hates being away from home for long periods.”

“Three days isn’t long,” You comment.

“It is in her world,” Soomi remarks, her laugh gentle. You glance at her, taking in the new wrinkles on her face due to being a mother and working at the same time. You don’t know how she handles it, especially because Soomi inherited her father’s dramatic and clingy traits. But even despite the stress, there’s a soft smile on her lips. You know she’s thinking about her child. The whole concept of infinite love that a mother possessed for her children was still lost upon you. You loved Jeongguk to the Sun and back but the love lingering on Soomi’s face at the simple thought of her baby was entirely different. Some part of you longed to know what that felt like.

“Can I ask a question?” You carefully pose, slicing the radishes Seoyeon handed you earlier.

“Go ahead.”

“How long did it take for you and Jimin to conceive?”

“With his stamina,” she scoffs, “Not long at all. I was pregnant by the end of our honeymoon. Why are you asking?” Her eyes are on you, shining with curiosity eerily similar to the twins’ gaze.

“No particular reason. Just curious.”

“Are you pregnant?” Her blatant question has your cheeks heated and you pray the rest of the occupants in the kitchen didn’t catch what she said.

“No,” you hastily reply. “I’m not. But we are trying.”

“Oh.” Soomi’s staring at you with a gaze you can’t decipher. “You don’t want to get married first?”

“We talked about that. We’re in no rush for marriage. We’re both it for each other as far as we’re concerned and a piece of paper won’t change how we feel about it. So we’ll skip out on marriage for the time being. Our parents know how we feel about marriage too. Even if they don’t exactly agree, it’s our relationship.” You make your tone firm on purpose. This question has been posed to you too many times, so the defence in your words is natural. But the look Soomi gives you is sharp enough to crack through the thin glass that constructs your resolve. Her gaze isn’t mean, but there’s a clear judgement in her eyes. She pauses, a gentle sigh slipping from her lips before she slowly opens her mouth.

“If that’s what you want, then do it. But I have to warn you, kids do shake up the picture quite a lot. Soomi taught me so much about Jimin already, things I would never have known about him. Some of them I didn’t like and others I loved and I bet she’s shown Jimin things about me that I never knew too. It’s a lot to have a kid and you need to make sure your relationship can handle the extra stress and responsibility you’re about to put on it.” She’s not looking at you, instead focusing on tying up her dark locks in a neat bun, but her last words linger in your head. “Don’t do something that might push you further away from each other. You love Jeongguk, but will you love him as a father when he messes up? Because he will. You’ll mess up a lot too. Parenting is one big learning curve that never stops curving. Even if you feel ready, Y/N, your relationship might not be.”

You move to interrupt her, a rebuttal resting on your tongue. But Soomi halts it, shooting you a glance that makes your heart halt.

“Have you thought about the pregnancy too? How your body will change? The mood swings, the morning sickness? How crappy you are going to feel? And for nine months too. That’s a lengthy time. Even with Soomi I was counting down the days until I hit the next week. I wanted it over and done with so bad if I’m being honest with you. Every pregnancy is different; I understand that — you might even be lucky and have a great one. But most aren’t a walk in the park. It’s a big commitment to make, with a lot of serious risks. Not that I want you to reconsider your choice, I just think you really need to think it through. Weigh the reasons you want this. You may want a kid right now but are you in the space to have one in nine months? That’s just something to keep in mind, Y/N. It’s not an easy thing, pregnancy or parenting.” She’s staring at you hard now, gaze earnest. “I just want you to consider that. You should talk to Jeongguk about it.”

You mumble a noise of agreement, your heart suddenly heavy in your chest. There’s a numbness that creeps from there, in the pit of darkness that now consumes the light that had once resided within you. You cut the ingredients they had you absentmindedly, Soomi’s words ringing in your head.

Even when dinner is set, memories and laughter have been cast across the table and everyone’s had their fill, you’re still mulling over Soomi’s advice. She was right, you hadn’t thought about the toll a child would take on the connection between you and Jeongguk. Or on you. You’d only focused on the happy little moments that would await you as new parents instead of the rough, ugly parts of the journey. There was a sudden panic gripping your soul instead of the familiar warmth you’d become accustomed to when you thought about having a child. Jeongguk had sensed there was something off with you too, because when you climbed into the sheets that night he’d wrapped you in a tight embrace, carefully resting your head upon his upper arm.

“Care to share what’s on your mind?” His voice is a whisper in the dead of the night, breath warming your forehead.

“It's nothing really. Just thinking about… the whole pregnancy thing?”

His body tenses. “Oh... The doctor said we’re fine though. Both healthy and fertile. It’ll happen when it happens.”

“No. Not that,” you retort, twisting in his arms. You tear yourself away, rising upright, the blanket falling from your bare shoulders. Jeongguk stares at you, eyes wide open and full of alarm. “Jeongguk.” There’s a tremor in your voice. “Do you — do you really think we’re ready for kids? I still work under a shitty manager. We live in a small apartment. You’re — you’re working so hard it’s practically killing you. We’re not even married—”

“Quit your job.” He says it firmly, rising up beside you. There’s a fire in his eyes that riles you further into the panic that’s overwhelming you.

“What are you even suggesting? I quit my job? So what? You can continue working yourself to the bone? Are you even thinking?”

“I am!” He slams back. “You hate your job, so quit! You’re talented and skilled and you deserve to work at a company that appreciates you! And where is this coming from? You don’t want to have kids anymore?” His voice faltering at the end, pandering out into the air that’s filled with tension.

“No. I — I want to Jeongguk. I just don’t know if this is the right time. There’s so much that’s not settled, we shouldn’t be straining ourselves any further.” Your throat is thick and your head is hot, unshed tears brimming within your eyes. He reaches out for your hand, rough large palms enclosing your own. You can’t look at him, staring hard at the wall instead, trying to swallow your sadness. “Maybe I’m not getting pregnant for a reason.”

“Don’t say that.” His voice cracks. “If you want to wait, that’s fine. Just know that you’re the only person I ever want to take that step with. Whether we’re married or not. I love you. I love you so much. I don’t want you to be sad about something that’s meant to make you happy. We can stop trying.” There’s a hand on your cheek, his thumb wiping away the hot tears that you weren't even aware of. When you finally look up, there’s pain glimmering behind his brown eyes and it shatters your heart into thousands of little shards.

He holds you as you cry, rocking your huddled figure lightly. His shirt is drenched in your sorrow, a growing wet stain spreading over his chest. There are hiccups stuck in your throat when you finally draw away, eyes hot and puffy. There’s matching wet stains on his own red cheeks. You brush them away, staring into his red eyes, hoping he can feel how sorry you are for giving him hope that his deepest desire could come true and then snatching it right back,

When he kisses you, there’s silent tears still streaming down your cheeks. It’s slow, gentle. The words that are stuck in his throat are communicated through this kiss. Like he needs you to know it’s okay. Your worries are valid and even though he’s hurt, he still loves you. Still needs you. And you kiss him back with the same intent, your heart aching in your chest because Jeongguk had been so happy when you’d agreed to start a family with him. A life that wasn’t just about the two of you as individuals, it would have been about the two of you as one. But that’s no longer a reality, merely a castle in the sky now.

The pillow is soft beneath the dip of your head. Jeongguk’s above you and you hold onto him like you’re afraid you might lose him, your mouths still attached. You’re terrified this might push him away, that he might find someone else that can give him what he really wants. Someone who will trust his intentions instead of doubting him.

He pulls away, eyes glossy, a look in them that tells you he can feel the fear in your kiss, the desperation to keep him closer. “I’m here.” His voice is thick, still heavy with heartbreak. “You’ve got me. I’m not going anywhere.”

The urge to prove that makes your fingertips twitch. You’re yanking at the hem of his shirt, your heartbeat pulsing in your throat. It comes off immediately, followed by his shorts and your own t-shirt. He’s not hard but there’s a sizable bulge nudging against your clothed core. You pull him down, revelling in the way he caves you in, and kiss him until he’s grinding himself against you, little gasps spilling from his swollen lips. Your fingers are tangled in his long hair and even though you’re hurting your heart settles. This is yours. No matter what happens, this belongs to you.

Jeongguk must feel the same because he’s coaxing a dark bruise on your neck, the need to display his love for you making his tongue swoop across your sensitive skin, teeth nipping when a rush of desire slithers down his back. His hips move harder now and he’s leaking in his boxers, the damp stain of the fabric matching the one on your panties. The air still feels heavy, but your joined pants now fill it. There’s a hand on your hip, pinning you down to the bed and at some point Jeongguk had kicked the sheets to the floor. You’re at his mercy, taking the rough grind of his crotch against your own. There’s a sting on your clit from the material rubbing you the wrong way, so you gently push him off, slipping off your underwear. The cool air hits your slick folds, making you feel more exposed and vulnerable than you’ve ever felt before. He doesn’t say anything, just slips down your body, draping your legs over his shoulder, his warmth breath grazing your thighs.

The first lick of his tongue against you has your toes curling. You watch him spread you apart, firm tongue dipping into hole, toying with it before sliding back up to your clit. When his lips latch onto it, sucking it hard, your back lurches off the bed. The noises that fall from your mouth spur him on, tongue moving quickly now, alternating between precise quick licks and slower ones, tongue spread against your pussy. You take it, staring at him as he devours you. The usual fire you’d become accustomed to during sex doused from his eyes, the brown softer now, almost calm. But there’s an urgency in the way he eats you out, your slick coating his lips, as his tongue flicks against your clit.

It’s hard not to grind against his face, but you’re still holding yourself back, despite the rush of pleasure that’s creeping into every muscle, every nerve and piling in your gut. When his tongue swirls around your clit, before dragging down your folds and dips inside you hard, that resolve you were desperately clinging on snaps. You roll your hips against his mouth, back arched and your head pushing into the pillows. The knot in your gut is tight. You’re close, eyes closing involuntarily and your thighs twitching under the firm grasp of his hands. Jeongguk can tell because his tongue is against your clit once more, flicking hard, coaxing the orgasm out of you. You want to push his head away, the need to snap your legs closed making your thighs tense but he doesn’t care, fucking your clit with his mouth until you unravel beneath him.

It hits you slowly and then all at once. A build-up that has your squirming beneath him, trying to get away, then your muscles lock. Mouth wide open and words falling from your throat that you can’t decipher because there’s blood rushing in your ears. Your walls clench around nothing and you wish he’d slipped in a finger or two but then you glance down, Jeongguk still lapping at your pussy with vigour, his eyes on you and your whole body just dissolves. Your bones feel like they’re melting into each other, eyelids heavy but you force them open and lock them onto his. When you finally muster the strength, you push his head away and drag him up to you, slotting your lips together. He tastes like you, and you’re fully aware of his erection, the bulge grazing against your sensitive nub.

He cups one of your breasts as you kiss, his thumb brushing against your hard nipple. You jolt, a sudden rush of wetness gushing from your cunt. Your hands trail down his body without thought, gingerly digging into the band of his boxers but then he’s pulling away, mouth latching onto your nipple and your brain short wires for a second. The drag of his tongue against your chest makes your gut feel strange, another knot settling despite the orgasm you had moments ago.

He comes up, mouth shiny with your slick and your chest heaving beneath him as he stares at you in a way that makes your heart seize. “I love you too.” It hits you then, what you’d been repeating when he was going down on you. You said you loved him. And it’s true - you do. You love him so much it hurts sometimes. It’s the most overwhelming, intense emotion you’d ever felt. It makes your heart feel like it’s going to explode sometimes. And even though you’re not sure you can give Jeongguk what he wants anymore, those words lessen the worry and guilt you feel. He loves you. That’s all that matters.

His boxers find their way to the ground when your lips latch onto each other again and then he’s guiding himself into you, groaning against your mouth as you squeeze down on him. It’s slow, his hips rising and falling onto yours in a steady rhythm, cock stretching you out. It feels so good and you let go now, moaning into his ear as your hands settle on his hips urging him into you, faster and harder. Jeongguk complies, your name stuck on his lips as he fucks you into the mattress, the curve in his stomach telling him he’s close. You clench around him, loving the way Jeongguk feels buried inside you, filling you up like no one else can. You’re tight and wet and he can’t help but lift your hips, grasping the back of your thighs so that he can pound into you the way he wants too. He’s hitting deeper now, the curve of his cock rubbing against that part of you that has delicious tingles vibrating through your body. It’s heady, the way he fucks you. You can feel him twitching, thrusts in precise, the need to cum driving his hips. When he moves to pull away, you push his hips back down.

“I — oh,” He says, breathless when you squeeze around him, ribbed velvet walls clenching on his veiny cock. “I’m close.”

“Inside,” you murmur, “Cum inside.”

He stares at you, eyes glimmering. But his hips come slamming back down hard and he fucks you like he never wants to leave your cunt. It’s exactly what you want and you’re not worried. After three months of trying what could happen now? So you let him have his way with you, his harsh thrusts bruising your hips. His own falter against you, warm cum spilling inside. Jeongguk’s panting beside your ear, your sweaty skin sticking together. His hair is dishevelled, ruined and damp. But there’s a soft smile on his face and when he pulls out, cum making your thighs feel grimy. He pecks your nose gently. It makes your heart calm. Then he rises, moving to the bathroom and returning with a wet cloth. He cleans you up in silence but it’s content, not tense. Your eyes are closed when he slips into bed again, the mattress dipping under the weight of his knee. He drags the sheets he’d plucked from the floor over your body and you burrow into his side, the thrumming of his heart in his chest a serene euphony to your ears. You fall asleep like this, the melancholy that was weighing over your heart temporarily subsided.  

→

There’s a faint ding from your phone. You pick it up, sliding down the notification bar to see a reminder from your period app. You’re three days late. You choose to ignore it, tossing the phone back onto your desk because there’s a file you urgently need to complete. Seungmin’s been breathing down your neck about it. Coupled with the fact that Jeongguk’s birthday is next week and you’re still trying to plan his party out, your brain felt like it was about to combust. Your period is probably late because you were stressed. Jeongguk had been swamped with work too and after the mini holiday at the lake house you’d barely seen him. So obviously, it’s stress.

You leave the office late, putting down a reminder to book an appointment with your doctor in your notes app as you exit the building. You’d been mulling over going on birth control for a while now. It seemed like the most logical approach. Partially because you’d grown accustomed to feeling Jeongguk’s cum inside you and also because you thought it was better to wait a little bit until you were both more settled and ready for kids. Some part of you still longed to have them now but Soomi’s words haunted your thoughts every time the idea popped into your head. You had no doubt that you loved Jeongguk but the negatives of parenting heavily clouded over the pleasant scenarios you’d imagined.

The apartment is empty when you get home. You shower first and then head to the kitchen, your phone in your hand. There’s a text from Jeongguk telling you he’ll be late. He’s close to a promotion thanks to all his hard efforts even if it means you spend less and less time together. You settle on starting dinner, so that he’ll have something warm to eat when he comes home. He was notoriously bad at remembering to eat enough while working late.

When you’ve finished cooking, you settle into the couch, laptop open on some random show so that you have background noise as you eat. But it’s not enough to entertain you and you find yourself swiping through your phone. You scroll through Instagram feed, pausing over a picture of Yoona’s new-born. He’s a cute baby even with all the wrinkles and scrunched up face. His name is Jonghyun and Yoona hadn’t been able to stop talking about him. Baby this, baby that. It was cute, her unadulterated love for her child. Even when he puked over everything and refused to sleep.

Your heart feels heavy now, ears focused on the incessant ticking of the clock instead of the chattering of the actors on your screen. The memory of your first time taking a test comes stinging back hard. How nervous you were, how disappointed you felt when it was negative. It all seemed like wishful thinking now but something about it had you sitting upright, empty bowl discarded on the coffee table and your laptop nearly tipping onto the floor. You open the app again, stare at the three days’ late notification and then run to the bathroom.

The tests are still packed in the black paper bag. Your rummage through it, yanking out three in your trembling fingers tips. For some reason, it’s easier this time. You pee, dip them in the cup and leave them lying horizontally on the bathroom counter in what feels like seconds. Your heart pounds every step of the way. There’s no way you’re pregnant. It wouldn’t make any sense. Your legs jitter when you sit back onto the couch and everything feels like it’s going in slow motion. Or are you just moving really fast? You can’t tell, setting a timer on your phone before pressing your palm against your heart, trying to calm the drumming against your ribs. Time goes quickly and there’s a familiar buzzing signifying that your results are ready. You can’t walk. You don’t want to walk. It would be better not to know. But what’s the harm in knowing when you already know they’re negative. It’s just a confirmation. You’re not pregnant.

When you finally rise, your breath is shaky and your legs feel like logs as you drag yourself to the bathroom. The counter beckons you towards the tests, bright white light shining down upon them.

Two lines. On all three tests. Positive.

You can’t breathe. Your hands are shaking so much and suddenly the floor feels closer than it should. Your heart threatens to burst from your chest and there’s blood roaring in your head. You steady yourself against the sink, chest heaving beneath the loose shirt that you're sure belongs to Jeongguk. It feels surreal. The harsh light of your bathroom is hurting your eyes but you keep staring at the tests, the new information sinking in slowly. Suddenly you’re hyper-aware of your stomach, how the band of your underwear digs into the flesh of your hips. You can’t think about anything else because it hits you then. What those tests mean apart from the positive two lines, you keep blinking at.

Pregnant. You’re pregnant.

→

The first person you call isn't Jeongguk. It isn't your mother either or Yoona.

It's Soomi.

She picks up on the fourth ring, mumbling a hello that you struggle to hear over the sound of Bora whining in the background.

“Bora! Sit down!” Soomi’s not focused on your conversation yet. Her voice is tight, clear irritation radiating through her words. Something hits the floor and there’s a shrill echo of Bora’s cries ringing through the line. Soomi sighs heavily. “Give me a second. I’ll call you back.” And then the line goes dead.

Is that your future? Is that what you really want?

For some reason you’re crying. There’s a hot heaviness in your eyes that throbs dully in your skull, the coming of a headache. You wipe them away with the back of your hand, the lump in your throat making it hard for you to speak. Why did you even call Soomi in the first place? You can’t remember why the panic you’d felt had driven you to dialling her number. Especially when she planted that seed of doubt in your head in the first place.

When she rings again, you’re tempted to decline the call. Soomi would even question why you’re telling her first instead of your mother or Jeongguk. But you don’t know what else to do right now. You can’t just throw all the tests away and act like this isn’t happening. There’s a being developing inside you right now. A person that is both you and Jeongguk. And quite frankly you’re terrified.

“Hey, sorry for that. Bora’s started throwing tantrums now. I just had to talk to her.” She sounds exhausted.

You nod, realizing a second later she can’t see you. “Uh, yeah.” Your throat is clogged. “It’s fine, don't worry.”

“How are you then?” There’s a click of a door closing behind her.

“Um…” You can’t say it out loud, the words crawling back down your throat. Soomi’s quiet down the line, like she can feel the fear in your hesitation.

“Y/N? What’s going on? Are you alright?”

You still can say anything, a tremble in your fingers that you can’t control. “I’m…” She waits, patient, and you know her eyebrows are furrowed together like they usually do when she’s concerned.

Wouldn’t it be easier to just say it all at once? Rip it off like a bandage? You settle for that, forcing the rushed sentence out of your mouth. “I’m pregnant.”

“You’re what?” You open your mouth again but Soomi beats you to it. “You’re pregnant?” There’s an incredulity there like she’s still trying to process what you’d said. At least you are in the same boat.

“Yes,” You reply, finally stepping out of the bathroom. The tests are shoved far into the back of the cupboard. You’d taken care to store the boxes away too instead of dumping them into the trash. But now you long to sit, and the couch seems incredibly inviting. It’s weird to crawl under the blanket, knees curled into your stomach. There’s a life blossoming there. A whole life.

“Oh my god! Congratulations!” She’s practically vibrating down the line and her happiness has you pausing. Why is someone else more excited for your pregnancy than you? “How far along are you? Does Jeongguk know yet? I’m so happy for you!”

“...I don’t know how far along I am. I just found out.” Your voice is monotone in comparison to her bubbly questions. She catches on quickly, falling silent at the lack of joy in your tone.

“Oh. Are you alright? Weren’t you trying for kids?” Now she’s confused, hesitant to be happy when you’re not. The problem is, there’s a small part of you that’s elated. Finally, after all that time, here’s what you wanted. Handed to you on a silver platter. But you’re too wary of it all right now. There’s ominousness creeping into your beautiful vision of a family, staining the picture dark. What if this rips you apart? What if it makes you hate Jeongguk? What if this is the wrong time? What if you’re a shit mother? There’s too much worry looming over parenthood. And it’s sitting on your shoulders.

The tears reappear, dripping down your cheeks fast.

“We stopped,” You croak out.

“Oh.” Soomi’s silence leaves your head throbbing. You know why you called. For reassurance. Someone needs to tell you it’s going to be okay. Not Yoona. Not Jeongguk. Not your mother. Soomi was the only one who could provide the reassurance you desperately needed. “Y/N, are you happy?” She asks a heartbeat later, like she knows your thoughts.

You hiccup. “I don’t know. I don’t know what to feel or what to do.”

There’s a small hum from her lips. “Okay. How about you get a glass of water first. Anything you want to drink.” She’s right. Your hiccups keep interrupting her and they’re uncomfortable. You leave the phone on the couch, returning after you’d chugged some water. “You’re back,” She sounds relieved, sighing through the line. You mumble a sound of affirmation, digging your cold feet under the fluffy blanket. “Remember what I said about parenthood?”

“Yes.” Of course you do, you hadn’t forgotten a word she’d said.

“I know I mentioned all the negative things but I don’t want you to lose sight of all the little wonderful things. Having a child is both a blessing and a nightmare — and I know it sounds hypocritical of me to be talking about all the nice things that come with being a parent when I just had an argument with my daughter, but I promise you, there’s so many moments that you’ll cherish during this part of your life. It’ll change a lot, some for the worse, some for the better. But it’s worth it. So worth it.”

You stay silent, shuffling in the cushions. There’s an urge to touch your stomach and you give into it, feeling the warm skin beneath your palm that’s going to stretch out, making room for the child within you.

“You know,” Soomi continues, a waver in her voice. “I cried the first time Bora could walk without support from either of us. She wasn’t that big and I was so proud of her but it felt like my baby was getting too old already. And now I can hardly get her to sit down.” She laughs softly. The memory she’s shared warms you. You can see it now, the tiny little feet, the unsure steps. “You know that’s waiting for you, right? With Jeongguk’s energy, that kid will never be able to stay still.”

And then you’re smiling, an easy one that tugs at the corners of your mouth. The pads of your fingertips trail along your stomach. “He’ll be so happy,” You murmur. There’s not even a slight bump but you already feel different, now that you’re aware.

“I know he will. I saw him staring at all the kids when we were at the lake house. He really wanted this.”

You hum again, but the mention of the lake house makes you heart break. “I told him I wanted to stop trying then.”

“Really? Why? If I may ask.”

You want to say it’s because of her, but you bite your tongue. Soomi may be a bit harsh sometimes but she was a sweet person and didn’t need to have that held over her head. “Just rethought it.” You settle for that instead. “Wasn’t sure if I was ready for parenthood just yet.” She’s quiet, like she can tell it was because of her.

“Are you happy, Y/N?” She asks again, not addressing the elephant in the room

You pause to think about her question. Really think about it. Jeongguk would be ecstatic. Over the damn moon. Yoona’s been nudging you to join her in this next stage of life and your parents would be overjoyed too. And you? What are you feeling?

“I’m happy.” There’s a sense of surety there. No matter what happens, you longed for this just as much as Jeongguk has. It’s a blessing. Even if it’s hard at the end of it all, it’s worth it. “I’m really happy.”

Soomi’s voice has a lilt in it. “I’m glad for you. You know it’s going to be okay. Jeongguk loves you too much to ever let either of you go.”

“I know,” You mumble, gaze on the door. “Do me a favour, don’t tell anyone yet.”

“Of course! My mouth is shut. Call me if you need anything, love. I need to check on Bora before she puts herself in danger.”

“Hmm, alright. I’ll call. And thank you Soomi.” You’re warm all over, skin buzzing with an emotion you can decipher.

“Anytime. I need to run. If you need a good doctor, I can refer you to one!”

“Thanks, I’ll let you know. Bye Soomi.”

It settles in when the line cuts, the feeling in your bones seeping into every limb. You are pregnant. There’s a miniature version of you and Jeongguk sitting inside your uterus. Evidence of your devotion to each other. Your love. You can’t stop touching your stomach beneath the safety of the blanket, the sheer wonder of it all still lost on you. Then Jeongguk is pushing the door open, and your hand drops from your abdomen. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbow, tie loosely pulled from its knot and there’s a glow in his brown eyes. You haven't seen them shine like that in months.

He toes his shoes fast and then he’s launching into the living room, a grin on his face that reaches your heart.

“Hello, my love. What’s got you so happy?" You tentatively ask. Jeongguk doesn’t reply, instead tackling you into the couch, firm arms wrapping around you. He holds you tight, this face buried into the hollow of your neck. You can feel his smile on your skin and your heart keeps fluttering. A wild butterfly caged in your chest.

“I got the promotion.” The alcohol reaches your nose then, remnants of his celebration still on his tongue. The words you want to share dance on your own tongue. But you keep them in check. Not now. You know when you’ll tell him. Soon, but not now.

“Really! I’m so proud of you. You deserve it, baby. You’ve worked hard.” You say into the tuft of his dark hair. He sighs against you, heart drumming against your chest. Content. “Let me warm your dinner. I’ll spoil you tonight.”

“I can think of other ways you can spoil me,” He grins, shifting so he can cup your chin, gently pulling you closer. You give in because you long to kiss him too. Have the surety of his warm mouth against yours, feel that love echo when you slip your tongue against his. He tastes like soju. But you brush it off, it’s probably not bad for the baby anyway. It’s not like you can tell him to stop and google whether this is safe for you. He’ll ask and you’re not ready to share this with him just yet. So you let Jeongguk push you onto the couch, mouth still latched onto yours. It’s easy to let go, lose yourself in his touch for a bit. Because it’s Jeongguk. The love of your life, the person who keeps you grounded, your best friend, and now the father of your child.

→

Soomi keeps an eye out for you at the party. She quietly orders virgins with you and the only person who seems to catch on is Jimin who keeps staring at her stomach with fear. But no one else is concerned, too busy exchanging stories over the table, their glasses clinking every once in a while. Taehyung keeps the liquor flowing, racking up a bill that’s going to bite your wallet. But you’ll let it slide for tonight — after all it is Jeongguk’s birthday.

The man in question is glowing, a never ending smile gracing his cheeks. The promotion at work came at the perfect time. He’s on a high, radiating pure unadulterated happiness. His joy spills over onto you and you can’t help but stay beside his side all night, eyes locked on his bright face. The laughter of your friends feeds the love blossoming in your heart and it positively combusts with joy when that sheepish smile creeps onto his face when everyone sings to him ‘happy birthday’. You leave the restaurant late; stories still being shared in the parking lot despite your friends halfway into their cars. Soomi sends you a wink as you carry Jeongguk towards the car and you catch the suspicious glance Jimin sends the two of you. They’ll have an interesting discussion later, you bet.

Jeongguk lets you drive, still woozy from the shots Taehyung urged down his throat. He doesn’t question that you hadn’t drank anything. You’d had a few bouts of morning sickness since you’d found out so avoiding alcohol in this situation was logical. Jeongguk thinks you’ve got a stomach bug. He accepted that explanation so easily, not remembering the last time you’d had unprotected sex. The ride home is content and quiet, Jeongguk cuddled within himself in that passenger seat. He’s beyond happy and it’s evident in the fond gentle glances he’s giving you. You pretend to not notice them, vibrating hard in your seat from the nerves wreaking havoc in your guts. Your fingers tap incessantly on the driving wheel, an accompaniment to the drumming of your heart.

You’ll tell him tonight.

The package is already at home, hidden in your underwear drawer. It's simple enough. A white ribbon tied neatly over the thin velvet black box and within it a positive pregnancy test, placed neatly inside a plastic zip bag, the cap on the tip on.

You’d thought about how you wanted to tell him over and over again but this seemed like the best idea. It’s not extravagant or dramatic and yet, for some reason you’re still so nervous.

When you kill the engine, your car now nearly slotted in the underground packing of your apartment, the silence is replaced by your rapid heartbeat. You turn to find Jeongguk staring at you, doe like eyes glimmering in the harsh glow on the parking lot lights. His mouth is turned upwards, cheeks flush from the alcohol in his system. Before you can say anything, distract yourself from your nerves, Jeongguk’s tugging off his seatbelt and leaning into your space, mouth moving onto yours. It’s a soft kiss, one that has you buzzing like you’re a teenager again, falling in love for the first time. He keeps a warm palm on the nape of your neck, deft fingers gently pressing into the sensitive skin there. You can’t help but curve into his caress, moaning quietly against his warm lips. When he pulls away you move to chase for it. He stops you by pecking your nose, leaving you blinking at him, hands clenched in your lap.

“Thank you for tonight. I love you,” Jeongguk murmurs against your forehead, fingers weaving towards your own seatbelt. He unbuckles you quickly, hands now on your waist as he urges you into his lap. You clamber on top of him, mindful of the gears that hit your knees. It takes a while to settle but when you do Jeongguk holds you to his chest, fingers running along your side. Your heartbeat is in your stomach now and you long to blurt it out. He catches your mouth against his before you can say anything, tongue coaxing you open. You kiss because if you try and reply to his statement now you’ll end up crying.  You don’t know how long to stay like this, making out in the basement of your apartment building like teenagers trying to hide from prying eyes. It’s nice until your hip starts to hurt from the uncomfortable position.

“Let’s go inside. I have a present for you.” You’re breathless in his arms, mouth wet from his lips against you. Jeongguk quirks an eye at that, shifting so that his crotch brushes against your stomach.

“Really? What kind of present?” He asks it slyly, hips rolling against you. You reward his bluntness with a smack on his shoulder, before opening the car door. “Ow! You can’t hit me, it’s my birthday.”

“Hurry up or you won’t get your present,” you reply, slipping off of his lap.

“Not far.” He whines, but he gets out anyway, shutting the door behind him.

“I don’t care.” You say, smiling back at him. “It’s a good one I promise.”

The questions start there and Jeongguk doesn’t stray far from you as you head towards your apartment. He keeps a palm pressed against the small of your back, pulling away only to give you space to open the door. Inside he latches himself onto you again, dropping kisses along your neck until you gently push him on to the couch.

“Wait here. Let me get the present.” He stares after your retreating figure when you head for the bedroom, curiosity making him finally stay silent. You return with a small black box and his mind starts guessing. A tie? The box isn’t big enough. A toy? What toy is that small? A pen? Why would you give him a pen?

He accepts the box cautiously, fingers immediately tugging at the white ribbon knot. He can feel your eyes on him as his fingers close around the lid. It makes him pause, gaze flickering towards your face because he isn’t sure what this is at all. Then he yanks the lid off, vision landing on the object within the box.

It takes him a moment to realise it’s a pregnancy test.

“Are you serious?” His hands are quivering but he plucks up the plastic bag that contains it anyway, dropping the box to the ground. His eyes are on you and there’s tears welling within your own. Jeongguk’s head feels hot and his chest is too small, heart widely slamming into his ribs. “Are you actually serious? You’re pregnant? You’re pregnant!” The smile that breaks onto his face makes you laugh with joy and all you can do is nod your head. Jeongguk moves so fast from the couch, wrapping his arms around in. Your chests are pressed against each other, hearts communicating through rapid thumping. He keeps murmuring it against your ear, like he can’t believe just yet.

“You’re actually pregnant. Oh my god. We’re having a baby.” He’s trembling in your arms and when he pulls away to look at you, you hold him steady. There’s a twinkle in his eyes that makes your heart stop and then he’s kissing you. It’s soft and sweet but there’s an urgency with every press of his lips against yours, one that you feel too. You long to have him closer, fingertips already digging into the fabric of his shirt. It should be off on the floor right now. Jeongguk groans into your mouth when your hands slip underneath the fabric. He’s practically levitating right now. It’s impossible for him to get any happier. And then a thought hits him so hard he’s left breathless when he pulls away from your lips.

“I’m going to be a father? Holy shit — I — you’re actually pregnant?”

“Yes, Jeongguk.” The shock on his face makes you giddy. You gesture to the test still clutched in his hand. “I really am.” You catch the wonder that whispers in his eyes when he glances at the test once more.  And then he’s on you, hands settling on your waist as he kisses you like you’re oxygen and he’s drowning. His erection keeps nudging against your stomach and the movement has you dripping instantly, panties sticking to your core. When you naturally roll against him, you don’t expect Jeongguk to pull away.

“What? What’s wrong?” He swipes his tongue over his rose lips, looking abashed. His eyes are still glued to your stomach.

“Shit — sorry. I didn’t mean to rub against you like that.”

You blink at him. Hard. Was the man who literally fucked a baby into you apologising for rubbing his erection against you? Really?

“Jeongguk,” You begin, attempting to sound patient. “Are you not going to sleep with me this whole pregnancy?”

“Can we do that though? Have sex? It won’t put the baby at risk?” He’s genuinely concerned, a hand coming out to brush against your tummy.

“I’ll be fine, Jeongguk. The baby’s only five weeks anyway.”

“You sure?” The warmth of his hand against you has you radiating, glowing bright like a star in the middle of the dark galaxy. You try not to preen under his attention, but the concern colouring his honey eyes makes your heart ache with fondness.

“Yes, I’ll be fine.” You try to hide that emotion with a nonchalant roll of your eyes. He notes it with a gentle scoff, the palm on your hand stills though.

The firmness in his voice makes your cheeks warm. But then he glances at you again. “You’re not tired? You don’t want to sleep?”

“Jeongguk, I suggest you take advantage of my libido before it disappears. You’ve already put a baby in me, what’s stopping you now?” He must read the irritation in your voice well because he stops being coy and settles a hand on your hip to pull you closer.

“Nothing, nothing at all,” He murmurs against your ear before easily lifting you up. The grin tugging at your lips is blissful, the feeling of Jeongguk’s sturdy arms guiding you to your bedroom licking at the flame in your core. You cling onto him, giggling in time with his slippers faintly pattering against the floorboards. You don’t know how he flicks on the lights in the room but he does so without letting you go, the smile curving at his own lips pressed against your chest.

Your back touches the mattress gently, the act tender in itself. The look Jeongguk gives you makes your heart flutter, a soft warmth building in your gut has his hands wander across along your body, pausing at your waist which he clutches firmly. He fits perfectly between your spread legs, the silk dress you'd donned for tonight hitched up your thighs, revealing spans of skin that Jeongguk keeps staring at. His eyes roam over your body, glittering in a manner that makes your fingers itch to close the distance between your bodies. You can't help but stare at back him, a stupid grin on your lips because this is really all yours. He's yours and you love him. And he loves being yours too. You can tell it by the way Jeongguk leans down, slotting his lips against yours, his body pressed firmly into you. The twitch of his clothed cock against your core has you groaning into his mouth, the sparks that journey across your skin from every slight touch he gives your body intoxicating. Your hands are on him a beat later, slipping into his soft brown curls. When your nails scrap against the nape of his neck Jeongguk shivers, a minute movement that has his hips driving harder into yours. The grip that lands on your bare thighs triggers an arch in your back, lining you perfectly against him. There hasn't been an exchange of words yet but you can feel it in every roll of his hips, in the way his lips slip down to your neck, painting purple and blue marks along your skin and in the way he glances at you when he finally pulls away, petal lips bruised and a glaze in his honey eyes that makes you want to do dangerous things.

"I love you." There's another kiss on your lips. His hands are in your underwear, fingertips toying with your wet folds. "I love you so much. So much." Another kiss and an expert flick against your clit. You think your heart might burst. It feels too full of adoration, bruising your ribs with every erratic thump inside of your chest. You just tug him closer, directing his mouth towards yours again and kissing him hard enough to leave a print of your ardour for him on his lips for eternity.

"I love you too." You mumble it into the air, the sentence soft and warm, containing all the adoration you feel towards him. Jeongguk beams, brighter than the sun. Your love for him blinds you but you don't mind it. No one has ever made you as happy as Jeongguk has. No one has ever made you feel like Jeongguk has. You love him so much that it hurts. And you know he loves you just as much too.

It comes easy, the way your clothes fall off your body as he kisses you. Suddenly your bare bodies in a bed, the desperation in your touches heady. He leaves you breathless when he finally settles himself between your legs. The first lick of his tongue against your dripping core has your hands balling into the sheets. Jeongguk doesn't wait for you to register the feeling of his mouth against your cunt. He hikes your legs over his shoulders, tongue slipping deep into your cunt. You jolt from the intrusion but Jeongguk pins you down, grip firm as he forces you to take every deft swipe of his tongue against your pussy. He knows how to unravel you, and he does so quickly, not holding back anything as he licks you open, groaning deep into your cunt. It's the little sighs that do you in, the mumbles of praise that he murmurs into you that spark something in your gut.

"Jeongguk." It's hitting you fast, a tremble in your thighs that you can't control spreading warmth throughout your body.

He hums, parting from your cunt with his mouth covered in your need. It gives you a moment to breathe, but then he plants a kiss on your folds and you feel your brain melt into mush. "You taste so good," Jeongguk murmurs, before swirling his tongue around your clit - a skilled motion that elicits a rush of slick from your core. "So fucking good," he reiterates, despite you protesting squirms, the hands on your hip unforgiving. And then his tongue is back inside of you, fucking you open with a vigour that leaves you heady. There's nothing that can stop your fingers slipping into his hair, nails scraping his scalp with how hard you grip at the locks on his head. Your hips rise subconsciously, grinding his face into your cunt and slipping his tongue deeper and deeper until you feel it snap. He reads your body too well, the heave in your chest enough indication that your high is hitting you. And just before it does, his tongue is on your clit, licking at the sensitive bud the way he knows you like it. It happens all at once, a heat bursting through your system and your thighs suddenly begging to be clamped shut. But Jeongguk keeps them open, laving at your core as you shudder beneath him, vision blank and your nerves tingling with pleasure.

The waves barely subside, but you force your eyes to focus, the gentle press of Jeongguk's lips on your cunt making your toes curl. When you glance down, gaze floating over Jeongguk finally departing from between your legs, your heart bursts. His face is flushed rouge, a pretty tint over his golden skin, and his curls are tumbling into his face mussed from your fingertips racking through his hair. Even from here you can see how hard he is, straining against the fabric of his boxers, the print of his cock reigniting a fire in your gut that blazes through your nerves straight to your core. He notes the direction of your gaze with a loop-sided grin before he's descending onto you, trapping you within his sturdy arms. His mouth is on yours a second later, tongue slipping against yours. The groan that melts down your throat has your heart thumping, and your hands travel down his back, yanking him down until his crotch is pressed right against your own. You like the way you taste on his tongue, and it shows by how you kiss him, lips eager for more and more. The moment wraps itself around you, needs forgotten for a moment as you learn each other through your kisses all over again. It leaves you breathless, a tiny sigh drifting from your mouth when you finally part, and the look in Jeongguk's dark eyes evoking a thrill through your system. It's the instinctual thrust of his hips into yours that has the mood changing, like a trigger has been set off because suddenly you're needy, pawing at him until he gives in. You can feel him against you, twitching into your heat, the damp spot building on the fabric a result of both of your desires. There's a chaste kiss along your neck, Jeongguk slowly working his hips into you, but the pulse inside of your core demands for something more. Your fingers tug at the band of his underwear, impatient as you push down the fabric. He just laughs, mouth pressed into the hollow of your neck, hips raised to assist in your ministrations. It takes some wiggling before they're off, discarded someone off the edge of the bed.

"Aren't you needy — oh fuck." Your hand is wrapped around his length; the twists you give around him shallow but you know him well enough to know where to apply pressure. It doesn't take long from Jeongguk to crumble into you, the breaths against your neck shallow and quick and his cock leaking all over your hand. He feels good like this, thick and velvet-like against your palm, a weight you ache to have in your mouth. But then your walls flutter, clenching on nothing as Jeongguk groans into your shoulder, his hips pistoning into your hand and your brain can focus on nothing but having him inside of you, filling you up like he should.

"Baby." There's a careful edge to his tones. The profanity he whispers a moment later melts into the heat of your skin. "Keep doing that and I'll cum." He feels taunt above you, like a string on the verge of snapping.

"You could do that inside of me," you retort, twisting your hips up. It's only a slight brush but Jeongguk is swearing into the heat of the air. His hands are on the back of your thighs in an instant, hoisting you up to meet him as he settles himself between your legs, the head of his cock nudging against your core.

"You're a menace," Jeongguk retorts, pressing his length into you. His eyes are on your core, marvelling at how wet you are, practically drenching his cock in your slick. It doesn't help that you look gorgeous like this underneath him, his hands wandering back to your waist as he tugs you closer. The soft smile gracing your lips makes his heart ache. He pushes in without really thinking it over, the urge to fill you up overriding any other thought in his brain. The gasp you let out urges his hips to hit deeper, the feeling of your tight wet walls fluttering around his length euphoric. He loves every part of you but your cunt has a special place in his heart if he's being honest with himself. You fit around him perfectly, like you were made for him. Even after years of being with him it still takes him breath away, how easy you welcome his length into you, the noises you make when he's inside you. The first time you'd had sex Jeongguk had nearly cried. He'd never reached his climax that quick and it hit him hard, slamming into his body as he fucked you into the mattress. For some reason he feels the same way now, balls tight with his release, begging to coat your walls in his cum. He tries not to stare at your tummy but it's instinctual.

You sigh when he bottoms out, the curve of your bum pressed neatly against his balls. "But you love me."

Jeongguk scoffs lightly, rocking his hips hard. "I don't."

You ignore the butterflies that erupt in your stomach because you know he's lying. The look in his eyes as he gazes at your stomach says something else entirely.

"You do," you retort, raising your hips to match his thrusts. "You love me." The curve of his cock rubs right where you need him most, but it's not the hard pounding you expected from him tonight. He's going uncharacteristically slow, the drag inside of you steady but not fierce. Like he's purposely prolonging this, hanging onto the feeling of your cunt wrapped around him. There's a distance in his eyes that makes you clench your walls on purpose, hard enough to yank Jeongguk back into reality. He responds with a hard thrust, one that coaxes a low moan from your lips. He hums low, hips still driving you into the sheets.

"Yeah I do." It makes your heart swoop, the heat that envelopes your body intoxicating.

The sound of you meeting fills the room, your slick dripping over Jeongguk's length. For a moment you watch how he disappears inside of you. It leaves a tingle travelling through your body, to see how well you take his cock, how he groans deep every time he buries himself inside of you. But then your eyes flicker back to Jeongguk and his unwavering gaze on your stomach. Even the hands settled on your waist are ginger, gripping you like you're fragile. It's only then do you remember the concerns he'd voiced.

"You can go harder," you murmur, the tremor in your voice a result of how good he's fucking you despite the gradual pace he'd opted for.

Jeongguk hums, still driving his cock deep into you. He's not really concerned about that. His hips move slow because he's still marvelling at the fact that you're pregnant. That the child developing inside of you belongs to the both of you. That he fucked a baby into you. It sets off something oddly primal in his brain, dragging up an urge that he has to bite down on. That's why he goes slow, savouring every whimper and sigh that falls from your bruised lips. Etching the way your body feels under him, pliant to his desires. How you stare at him with that soft look clouding your gaze. He doesn't want this to end. Even with the pressure in his balls tight, he drags it out, drowning the words that threaten to torrent from his heart with the sound of your meeting. It echoes in the room, colouring the air with your mutual love for one another. He lets it wrap around him, revels in it. But then you're wrapping an arm around him and tugging him down. His face lands into your shoulder and his palms get lost in the sheets. He feels your legs straddle around his waist, drawing him deeper and deeper and Jeongguk feels his resolve crumble into dust.

"Oh." The little exclamation fluxes into the crook of your neck, lost into the heat of your skin. It ignites something in your gut and your hips rise to meet his quickening pace. There's an edge lingering behind your eyes and you want it so bad. Jeongguk hears the desperation in the way you whine his name and he moves with purpose now, pounding you hard into the sheets mercilessly. It's what you want and Jeongguk intends to give you everything and anything you desire. Especially now that you're the mother of his child.

His high hits him quick, a fast sweet thing that zips down his spine has your walls cling around his length, holding him in like you need him there. There's nothing that can stop it, but you join him a beat later, your bodies moulding into each other, space nonexistence as your rapid heartbeats fall into sync. You feel him twitch inside of you, cum pooling around your entrance, and your brain short circuits for a moment.  There's a warmth ebbing from your core, echoing deep inside of your bones and the added feeling of your boyfriend caging you in his arms, his cum slipping from your core, unlocks something in your brain. It makes your heart fall into ease too, and you can't help but cling onto the security of his being even when he's mumbling about cleaning the two of you up in your ear.

"No.” The protest falls from your pouty lips, a neediness colouring your voice that Jeongguk can’t help but smile at. The glitter of his brown eyes leaves you swooning, but not as hard as the quick peck he delivers on your check a second later.

"Please," He reasons, voice gentle. "You're gonna feel gross tomorrow."

Your legs are reluctant but they fall away regardless. "Be quick."

He plants another faint kiss to your lips again before rising. "Of course I will."

→

“You stink.”

Jeongguk laughs at the grimace painting your features as he dives into you, smashing your nose straight into the pit of his armpit. He reeks, skin still slightly sticky from putting his muscles to work in the gym downstairs. Normally, he would prefer to drive out to the gym he’d signed a membership for. He’d usually shower there before heading home. However, since the news of the new addition to your family Jeongguk had been adamant on staying near home. Though the equipment in your building was arbitrary Jeongguk refused to go out further than needed. Even when you desperately wanted him to. For instance, right at this very moment. You can feel the revulsion forming at the back of your throat as he nuzzles you into his arms. You gag on it, shoving him off harshly. You can’t even muster a playful smile when he stares at you in confusion, face downcast.

“What’s wrong?” He says it innocently, oblivious to the stench that’s emitting from him. Normally, you don’t mind Jeongguk post work-out must. But something in your brain has registered his current sweat drenched body as the vilest thing on Earth.

“You stink,” You reiterate, shifting away from him. Jeongguk pouts, sniffing at the tight fabric that stretches over his firm muscles.

“That bad?”

“Like a pig. Please go shower.” You snap, snatching up the bag of salt and vinegar chips you’d left behind in you flee from Jeongguk. Usually you didn’t like the way this flavour lingered in your mouth, yet somehow with the past couple of days you’d demolished more packets of them than you’d ever eaten in a single month in your entire life.

“That is not the food a pregnant woman should be eating,” He comments, voice coloured with disdain. He attempts to pluck it out of your hands, but the sharp glare you target at him halts his movements immediately.

“Don’t talk to me when you smell like that.”

He frowns, raising a hand to rake through the damp brown curls sticking to his scalp. “You hate the way salt and vinegar crisps smell. Why the hell are you eating them at this rate?”

“Why are you not in the shower yet?” The eyebrow raised directly at him pokes at his composed temperament.

“Y/N. Apart from those, what else have you eaten today?” When you don’t answer Jeongguk evades your space once again. You cough back the bile that’s coating your throat.

“We had breakfast together, you know what I ate.” He doesn’t take the retort well, sighing heavily as he blinks at you.

“Breakfast was hours ago. What did you eat in between that? I want a serious answer.” There’s enough gravity in his words to make you mumble out what he’s asking to hear.

“....Bread.”

“Bread?” He repeats it like he can’t believe it, tone coloured with incredulity. “Bread. You just ate bread. Was there anything on the bread? Tell me it was a sandwich at least.”

“No. Just plain bread.”

The sigh he emits now is loud and full of frustration. “Bread? Y/N, you’re pregnant. You can’t just eat plain bread that’s not enough for you.”

“I know,” You snap back, a harshness in your voice that even surprises you. It makes Jeongguk pause for a moment, but you’re already too worked up to care about backtracking your thoughts. “I know that I should be eating nutritional stuff Jeongguk but I can’t. I literally can’t. I feel like I’m going to throw up over everything. It’s so hard to force food down my throat when I feel like it’s going to come right back up. So stop getting at me for that. I’m trying, I really am. Just let me be.”

He tilts his head, the perturbation in his eyes tangible. There’s a moment of silence between the two of you that lingers, Jeongguk’s gaze unwavering. It makes you feel uncomfortable, and you squirm away subconsciously. The minute moment has a dark cloud settling over Jeongguk’s features.

“I’m sorry,” He doesn’t make a move to kiss or hug you - which you’re both grateful for and irked at. It’s a peculiar feeling, repulsing your partner.  “I get that your sensitive right now. I’m just worried. You know tomorrow is our first prenatal visit. You’re still taking the vitamins right?”

“I am,” You affirm, sticking your hand back into the packet of crisps. “And stop worrying. You’re making me nervous.”

He sighs again, rubbing the nape of his neck with unease. In one fluid motion he’s off the couch, taking the atrocious smell with him. “I’m sorry again. I’ll go shower. Please, just consider eating something that isn’t salt and vinegar chips while I’m gone. And drink some water. Please? For me?” The pleading look he gives you, doe eyes wide, plasters itself into your brain. You mumble a noise of agreement, waiting impatiently for him to walk away. He does so with one last long look at you, his eyes holding a miscellany of emotions that you can’t decipher. You don’t want to either, but the feeling they give you creeps through your chest, sneaking its way into your heart.

When he's gone, you dig into your crisps unabashedly, yet for some reason the taste of them leaves a film of disgust in your mouth. You try to chug it away with a bottle of water but it lingers, provoking a wave of nausea that has you taking deep breaths. The show playing on the television is monetarily forgotten as you wander into the kitchen in search of something to calm your unsettled stomach. The cluster of bananas sitting in your fruit basket catch your eyes simply because the vision of Jeongguk staring at you with that imploring gaze is still vivid in your memory. He’s right though - you’re not eating enough healthy food to sustain the current exertion your body is undergoing. Making a whole human being is incredibly difficult and it was taking a huge toll on your body. From the constant nausea to the back pain and sudden scent sensitivity, you were feeling overwhelmed. Your moods had suffered too, your patience running thin with Jeongguk more often than not. The lethargy your body feels seeps negativity into every aspect of your life - and it didn’t help that Seungmin was still breathing down your neck asking for reports left right and centre like you had nothing better to do with your time. There had been a couple of close calls at the office this week we’re you’d nearly snapped at him, but you’d managed to hold yourself back in time. However, all those repressed emotions are following you, reappearing in the way you flare up at Jeongguk for the slightest mistake. It’s starting to eat away at you, this guilt that you’re treating him like this despite your boyfriend trying his best to provide you with everything and anything you wanted. That’s why you grab one of the bananas, swiftly peeling it open.

But then the smell hits you, quick and hard leaving no room for you to force back the vomit that nearly spews from your mouth. You barely make it to the toilet in time, head held over the bowl as you hurl out the obscene amount of carbs you’d consumed for the day.

You don’t even hear his footsteps but the sudden hard gently rubbing on your back isn’t unwelcome. He murmurs softly over the sound of you heaving, crouching next to your huddle figure, worry violently radiating from him. It’s a few more retches before it passes, you mouth bitter with the remnants of salt and vinegar crisps. It makes your eyes sting, and suddenly your throat is clogged with a devastating despondency that swallows you whole. You don’t even feel like you can move from the toilet, holding your head in your hands as you choke back tears. You feel discomfort everywhere, and this is merely the beginning of your pregnancy. Seven weeks in and a part of you is ready to quit it all already.

Jeongguk coaxes your head up, gently urging a glass of water into your hands that you use to rinse your mouth out. The distress in his eyes doesn’t help quell any of the negative thoughts swimming in your brain.

“Are you okay?” He murmurs, voice soft in the echo of your bathroom. His hair is still damp from his shower, golden skin on display - evidence he didn’t have enough time to tug a shirt over his head before he came to your aid.

“Obviously not,” You bite back, and then immediately regret it when you see the fall on his face. “I don’t think I’ll throw up again, but I really want to lie down.” He nods, evidently glad you’ve given him something to work with.

“C’mere.” You make a motion at the mess in the toilet but he brushes it off. “Don’t worry, I’ll clean it.”  His arms lift you up easily, gingerly guiding you to the couch where he nestles you in the soft cocoon of pillows and blankets, fretting incessantly over whether you truly feel comfortable or not. And then, he’s gone. You hear the sound of the toilet being scrubbed even though you’re in the living room and your nausea rears its ugly head for a split second. It’s a dangerous lurch in your stomach that thankfully subsides when you close your eyes and breath slow. Jeongguk walks in on this, shirt soaked with the droplets of water slipping from his curls and his phone in his hand. You don’t see it but he’s staring hard at his phone, eyes swiftly reading through a series of web-pages, bottom lip caught between his teeth. He wishes he could just text his mom the question plaguing his brain but he can’t. You’d both decided to hold back the pregnancy announcement until the first ultrasound. But in situations like this Jeongguk wishes that his mother knew. Or anyone he could trust for advice really. He feels like he’s waddling blindly through deep waters, constantly making the wrong decisions because you keep snapping at him. Even now that you’re reposed on the couch, face lax, he can still see how dull your skin is. It makes his heart ache. For the duration of your pregnancy the morning sickness had been present - but it had never been this bad. Coupled with your other symptoms, Jeongguk truly feels like the worst partner in the world for not being able to alleviate somewhat of your troubles.

That’s why he heads to the kitchen with purposeful steps, snatching up the half peeled banana you’d deposited on the counter before fleeing for the bathroom and dumping it into the trash. You blink your eyes open to the sudden sound of Jeongguk knocking pots onto the stove and rummaging deep through the fridge.

“What are you doing?” You croak, voice weak over the droning of the television.

Jeongguk twists to face you, a tiny smile on his lips but his eyes are nervous. He asks it anyway because if he does nothing he’ll feel useless. “How do you feel about ginger tea?”

“I’m listening,” You say. The smile on your lips is tired, but the fact that it’s there is enough confirmation to ease the worry that had become a permanent fixture in Jeongguk’s heart.

→

His jittering is getting on your nerves. Jeongguk’s always been one to move around to alleviate his anxiety but by doing so at this very moment, he’s adding to yours. You already feel sick to your stomach, the candescene of the clinic lights sparking an ache in your eyes. Instinctively, you reach out from your perch in the leather chair, giving his jerky knee a firm but tight squeeze. The movement halts immediately and from your peripheral gaze you note the sheepish smile that spreads across your boyfriend’s lips.

“Sorry,” he whispers into the sterile air. Hospitals always have that sharp alcohol smell and you’re quickly coming to the conclusion that you don’t like that smell at all.

“It’s okay,” you return. “You’re just making me nervous, babe.”

He’s got your hand in his a second later. “I know. I’m sorry. I just can’t believe this is real.”

You huff. “Well you better start believing. This is very much real.” Maybe that’s what’s causing the mini freak-out in your mind. The gravity of the situation was slowly starting to dawn on you. Maybe it was the smell of the clinic, or maybe it was the equipment surrounding both of you. But it was all becoming very real that this was happening.

Jeongguk seems to have noted the flash of panic flooding your features but before you can say anything the door clicks open and a sharp lady with pin straight hair walks in.

“Good morning, Mr and Mrs Jeon. Apologies for keeping you waiting. I hope everything is alright.” She moves quickly, dropping a chart on the counter beside the wall before turning to face the both of you. You quirk an eyebrow at how she addresses you but Jeongguk doesn’t make a comment, instead quickly rising to give her a small bow.

“Morning Doctor Lee, everything’s alright. Just some morning sickness and fatigue but otherwise she’s doing okay.”

She grants you a small glance, the smile on her face gentle. “That’s to be expected. There’s some remedies I can suggest but for the most part you just have to work through it. Otherwise, we can get into the first ultrasound.”

You give her a nod, hand still intertwined with Jeongguk’s and a strange knot tight in your throat.

“Alright, go ahead and lie down for me,” Lee says, dimming the lights in the room. She raises your shirt up when you’ve gotten comfortable, handing you a paper sheet to prevent the gel from staining your clothes. Your exposed belly in the faint glow of the monitor screen ticks of something in your head. But you bury that feeling away, focusing on the feeling of Jeongguk’s callused palm against your own.

“Okay, just undo your pants and tug them down for me.” You do as instructed, wiggling in the seat until the curve of your stomach is out for all to see. You can feel Jeongguk’s eyes on it, the sudden squeeze he bestows your hand a clear indicator.

“The gel is warmed but it still might be a little bit uncomfortable,” Lee continues. She’s right, but you let her spread it around anyway, the pounding in your heart frantic. “So we’re going to do a simple heart-tracing,” she says as she presses the probe into your skin. “This is just a general check on how your baby is developing.” You nod again, ignoring the deft hard press of the probe and she shifts it around

“See if you look here.” Your eyes snap right to the monitor, mind trying to decipher the blobs on the screen into a person growing inside of you. “There’s your baby’s arm, and right there is the head and neck. They’re developing very well. Look there’s the rib cage, and there’s the spine.”

“Wow,” Jeongguk murmurs into the silence of the room.

Lee laughs, pressing the probe in a little deeper. “There’s the heart, and if I go down… Yes, there’s the stomach. And right there is your umbilical cord. Everything seems to be coming along well. Oh, look!” You can’t even rip your gaze away from the screen if you wanted to. “There’s the baby moving, see how the arm is raising?”

You can see it, a tiny slight movement that you don’t even register happening within you. Your baby is moving. Maybe you let out a little gasp, maybe your grip on Jeongguk’s hand goes taunt, but suddenly this seems real with a clarity you’ve never felt before.

“Alright, so I’m seeing no anomalies. So we’ll do a crown-rump length measurement. This will give us a possible date of birth for your baby. But from the information you gave you’re thinking you’re around nine weeks along, right?”

“Yes.” Your voice feels far from your body.

“Okay, let me just take a look at the rest of your body. I can see that your bladder is full, that’s good,” she says. You zone out then, lost in the sudden violent realisation that you’re growing a life inside of you. It feels slightly terrifying in the faint blue glow of the room. And it worsens when Jeongguk starts asking questions, mumbling about your food aversions and diet. Doctor Lee responds in that calm collected tone of her’s, giving him suggestions that you see him eagerly internalise. Yet you don’t hear much of what she says, too busy staring at the image on the monitor.

“Would you like me to take a picture?” Lee suddenly states. “We can’t determine gender at this stage but I could take a few pictures of the baby and have them printed out for you.”

“Yes,” you say. “We’d like that.”

Lee nods, the softness of her gaze enough to ground you for a moment. “Let me just move this around here. We’d like one with the baby up and in a good position.” You can’t tell if Jeongguk is breathing beside you, his sudden silence vaguely concerning. But this his fingertips feather down your side, reassuring, a reminder that he’s here for you.

“Alright then, that sums up what we’re able to do for your first ultrasound. I just need to check some of the reports and then I’ll get back to you. Here’s some towels so you can clean yourself up.” She leaves you buttoning your pants up, the lights back on and a weight sitting heavy on your shoulders.

“Our kid is gorgeous.” Jeongguk breaks the silence with that, tugging your hand into his once more.

“We haven’t even really seen him, Jeongguk,” you return. There’s a delirious smile pulling at your lips. Yes, you’re worried about this new challenge. Parenthood truly did not feel like a joke, but every time you look at Jeongguk. See the bright adoration blooming in his eyes, that fear can’t help but subside. It virtually disappears when he brushes a kiss against your forehead, plucking up the tissues you’d used to wipe the gel off.

“Him? How do you know our baby is a boy, hmm?” There’s the thud as the tissues hit the bottom of the garbage can. You shift to help him clean up but Jeongguk stops you with a firm palm against your belly, honey eyes staring at you with tenderness.

“I don’t know,” you return. “I think it’s a boy. But I don’t really care. I just want a healthy baby.”

He flicks your nose fondly. “I feel the same way, my love. Everything seems to be going well so far. I just need you to eat a little better. You heard what Doctor Lee said.”

“I know,” you groan. “But the baby hates everything! It’s not my fault I’m not hungry.”

“I know, my love. But you still need to eat. Where do you want to go for lunch today? I’m thinking Paul’s.” Jeongguk sweeps the rest of the mess up, ever so diligent and nit-picky. “I’m craving pasta.”

“Fine, but don’t expect me to finish anything. Those portions are always too —”

“Mr Jeon?” The door swings open, Lee striding in with an envelope and her chart tucked underneath her white coat. “Here’s the ultrasound photo. As for the estimation date, we’re thinking around May 17th. If you have any other questions we can discuss them now.”

“I think we’re clear of any questions right now,” Jeongguk responds, gently taking the envelope from her outstretched hand. “Thank you, Doctor Lee.”

“Alright, let me know if anything happens or if any questions arise,” she says. “I’ll see you at your next appointment.” She sends you off with a smile, and the worry that claws at your insides ebbs away the moment your feet leave her office.

It’s in the car that you rip open the envelope. It feels weird, holding the picture in your hands. Because that’s your baby. That’s something you and Jeongguk made together. A life forming inside of you. Jeongguk leans into your space, a hand on your thigh as your both stare at the picture together, attempting to pinpoint where the arms and legs are forming. It’s surreal, knowing that this was happening inside of you right now.

“That’s our baby,” you whisper. Jeongguk grins, planting a warm kiss on your check.

“Yeah, that’s our baby.”

→

Your bump grows steadily over the course of your pregnancy. Suddenly waist bands are too tight, jeans don’t clasp shut, and you’re left rummaging through your closet for anything that sits loose enough to alleviate your discomfort. Jeongguk’s sweatpants swiftly migrate to your closet becoming a favourite item for you to don until one day Soomi insists on taking you maternity shopping. It’s not your favourite activity, to be honest. The harsh lights in the changing rooms illuminate your drastically changing body, bouncing off the roundness of your belly. It’s surreal, to see yourself alter like this, a totally new person staring back at you from the reflection. But you amuse her regardless, not minding the loose fitted clothes she swamps over you with that delicate smile of hers.

You and Jeongguk tell your parents first, during one late afternoon lunch, before announcing the news to everyone else you know. There’s hesitation in the initial reception, expected comments at the lack of your matrimony being muttered amongst your grandparents and parents. But that quickly dissipates when you hand them a picture of a recent ultrasound. They fall in love immediately, cooing and simpering with adoration for the child growing within you. It’s around then that the glow sneaks around, your skin vibrant and the smile on your lips unwavering. But the pregnancy isn’t perfect, there are still bouts of morning sickness and a growing pain at the base of your back that refuse to disappear despite advice for others and consistent care from Jeongguk himself. You manage through it though, a strange feeling blossoming in your chest whenever he places an absentminded palm against your belly, like a security blanket shielding you away from the bitter coldness of the world.

You can’t help but think about that feeling as you stare yourself in the mirror, sans clothes, tummy spreading far from body. With your first trimester essentially over, the changes in your body have become more rapid. It’s been odd to glance down and find a swell there instead of your usual tummy with its rolls and softness. Your fingertips give in, poking gently at the skin there. It’s still soft — just different, a firmness that tugs at your heart meeting your fingers. You should have gotten into the shower ages ago, a meeting awaiting your morning at the office. Jeongguk’s up too, the faint padding of his slippers echoing through the walls. You don’t realise how close he’s drawing until the door slides open, brown curls and wide eyes appearing from the sudden gap. There’s no need to hide, his gaze falling on your bare skin gently.

“Are you going to get in any day soon or is your body more fascinating to look at?” He’s annoyed. Despite your insistence Jeongguk doesn’t like the idea of you going into a stressful environment that you hate on most days, especially when his new position covers both of you. Seungmin doesn’t know yet too, and your manager is still a pain in the ass on good days. He doesn't want that around you when your body is preoccupied with creating life. But the idea of wasting away on the couch watching reruns of sitcoms and shunning away the comfort foods you once enjoyed sounds abhorrent. You’d rather be in the office while you can, and your colleagues are wonderful to — better company than a television show.

“You don’t think my body is fascinating?” He sees your pout in the mirror, shifting forward with a small smile on his own lips.

“I never said that.” The words wrap around you the same time his arms do, strong and firm but delicate in how he handles you. His lips meet your neck a beat later, the adoration they leave sinking straight into your heart. It warms you from head to toe, burning when his hands fall to your belly instinctively. “It’s more than fascinating.”

You hum, rocking into his chest. “Is it?” Your eyes don’t leave the mirror, engraving this image into the base of your mind where it will live with a clarity as clear as the sky. Jeongguk on the other hand is too busy looking at you, eyes trained on your face like he’s staring at a constellation hanging high in the velvet of the night. His hands travel, dropping low to settling at your hips. His own brushes against you, want evident through the loose fabric of his shorts.

“Do you want me to show you how fascinating it is?”

“I'm gonna be late for work, Jeongguk.”

“You don’t have to go at all,” he returns, a gentle press of his lips on your neck accompanying the statement.

“And why would I want to do that?” You retort, but your resolve is weak, body already pliant to the gentle shift of him as he draws you close.

“You don’t have to want to not go – I can just make you.”

“Jeon–”

His wandering hand is now at your chest, the fingertips that trail along your skin are delicate and yet they leave blazes of heat in their wake. “Please,” he burns the word into your skin, lips leaving a soft mark. “Just for today.” You feel it then, the crumble of your resolution. It happens the moment his hand slips low, right between your legs, grazing soft the way you like it. His other hand stays at your chest, squeezing soft before he catches your nipple between his fingertips. A precise flick, and the press of his tongue on your neck has you succumbing faster than the shore does to the hungry tide.

“Jeon–” He makes you watch, fingers landing right where you need them, sure deft presses against the nerves there. Your thighs are drawn taunt already, heightened by the sensitivity of your newfound body. It catches you gaze in the mirror, that bump, peaking forward as he works your open with his fingers. You can feel his muscles shift, ready to spin you, lift you up onto the counter like he’s done before and find his way between your legs. But you decide then, that you don’t want that just yet.

“Wait – wait, Jeongguk. Wait, I want something else first.” He halts, pauses with a curiosity in his dark gaze that makes you nervous for some reason. In baited silence you turn, shuffling away from him and sinking on your knees in a fluid motion.

“You don’t have to –” He starts, but you don’t let him finish.

“But I want to you.”

“Baby.” It’s laced with apprehension, but his cock is hard at the sight of you like this, pliant and on your knees, a pretty picture burned into his memory. “Your knees,” Jeongguk mumbles, gripping the counter when your mouth his dick through the fabric of his shorts. “You’re going to be in pain.”

“You know I like pain, Jeongguk.” And then your tugging the fabric down, sighing when he springs out, hard and needy. He’s already leaking, tip red and wet. He wants to say something, but it vanishes when you swallow him whole, head bumping into the back of your perfect throat with an evil ease. The groan that falls from his mouth and unearthly, painting the air warm. He’s forgotten how good your mouth is, how eager you work your tongue around him, fast and quick over delicate nerves that fall victim to your ministrations quick. He’s not normally this fast in reaching his edge, but the sight of you, naked and full in the mirror plague the back of his mind. It shouldn’t be hot but that fact that you’re carrying his child does something to base part of Jeongguk’s brain that he can’t put into words. It’s what drives his hips forward, motions muted because he doesn’t want to overwhelm you. But you don’t care, forcing more of his length down your throat until you gag, lips glistening bright under the bathroom lights.

“Baby,” Jeongguk mumbles, his hand reaching to pull you off his cock. “Baby – please – gonna cum if you don’t stop.”

You pull off with an obscene wet pop, licking your lips sinfully. “But that’s what I want.” You see him twitch, length dripping wet.

“No,” Jeongguk whines. “Not when I wanna cum in you.”

“Really?” He doesn’t even know why you’re surprised.

“Yes,” he answers anyway. “Really.” You’re pulled from the ground softly, and spun to face the mirror with care. His clothes hit the ground then, firm tan arms wrapping around you. They bend you forward, rest your hands onto the counter so you have support when he sinks down behind you, nudging your legs open with purpose.

“Thought you wanted to – oh fuck.” Jeongguk hums at that, tongue slipping right between your folds. He licks you open with a fierceness that has your knees shaking, deft movements filled with urgency. It sparks that heat in your gut, allows to spread fast through your body as his face burrows deep between your legs. His hands hold you still though, carefully protecting your belly against the bathroom counter. You can’t focus on anything but the feeling of his tongue sliding in deep, coaxing your walls apart eagerly. When he finally parts from your cunt you’ve forgetting how to breathe, forehead pressed against the cool counter and your lungs heaving.

“Good girl,” Jeongguk comments, dropping a swift kiss on your core. “Wet like this just for me, right?”

You sigh, a tiny noise of agreement. “Just for you.”

Jeongguk doesn’t comment, gripping you hard as he rises again, cock nudging right against your cunt with ease. He doesn’t move though, hands coming to gently lift your head. He forces you to look, honey eyes coloured dark even in the glimmer of the lights. His fingers journey along your features, quietly claiming the skin they touch.

“All of this, only for me, right?”

“All for you,” you immediately comply, hips shifting back. You want him so bad it hurts.

He pauses at your belly, settling at the base of it, swell cupped in his hand. “Only for me.” You don’t reply at first, because it feels like something Jeongguk is saying to himself. But then he looks at you, waiting, the grip on your body firm and unforgiving.

“Yours.” It’s whispered into the morning, like a secret of the night instead. Jeongguk smiles, that bright grin you’ve grown to love feeding the fire that burns fast within you.

“Mine,” he brands the word into your skin with a kiss on your neck. “Forever?”

“Forever.”

He buries himself deep them, splitting you open with one sure thrust that coaxes a moan from the back of throat. It melts into the air, walls already adjusting to his length. You can feel the slick coating your inner thighs, tainting the base of his crotch and dripping down his length. You sway, but Jeongguk holds you up, keep your gaze focused on the mirror as his hips draw away, before returning back with a force that catches your tongue between your teeth. He fucks you hard with a need you’ve never felt before, a purpose driving his hips forward until you feel your body given way, the sound of your meeting resounding through the room, hard and fast and wet. And yet his hands hold you together carefully, delicate with your fragility but firm like he needs you to know something. You think you do, and this side of him is both pleasant and terrifying. Nobody has ever touched you like this before, fucked you open like this before. But then again Jeongguk did say only him. And he meant it, judging from how his hand snakes to your cunt, landing right where you need him as if he’s memorised your body, engraved parts of him into his brain forever. It feels like he wants you to do the same, with how hard his hips drive forward, moaning low in your ear as his body tenses. You’re close too, but not there yet. Jeongguk can feel that, knows that tremor in your thighs is not enough. So he bites it back, holds that drop in his gut as he moulds your body into his, thrusts deep and slow.

“God – Jeon – J-Jeongguk – I can’t – can’t–” You look gorgeous like this, head lolling back and your hips shift to meet him.

“You can,” his fingers move faster, determined. “Be good for me, hmm?”

“But–” It appears faster than you’d like, a violent flash that pulls from within as Jeongguk unravels you. You can still feel him, buried deep and throbbing hard against your walls. Your legs want to give in but Jeongguk holds you up, forces you through it with shallow bucks of his hips against your heat, groaning low when your walls tighten around his length. He falls then, right into the heat of his want, spilling deep inside of you with choked whine and a kiss against your shoulder. It feels long and like it happens in a blink at the same time, but even as he stills you can feel him inside you, twitching around the pool of cum dripping from your cunt.

There’s another kiss on your shoulder as Jeongguk slowly pulls himself out. His cum follows quick, slipping from your cunt with is. You note how he watches it, how his fingers twitch with the instinct to stuff it back inside. You can’t help but roll your eyes. That was something you did when you were trying and there’s already proof of that effort right in your belly. He moves to plant another kiss though, right on your cheek while his hands sneak down to fulfil their desire. You halt them with a gentleness.

“I need to shower, Jeongguk.” The comment produces a pout on his lips. You kiss it away. “You have work too, babes. Get in with me.” He complies, still insistently drifting his hands downwards. A simple man honestly. With very simple needs.

→

With Jeongguk’s new position and your new predicament changes have rapidly happened. The search for a bigger apartment commenced right after your birthday announcement. At first, you didn’t find it necessary to uproot your whole life from your current apartment, with its quaint location and scattered memories. But Jeongguk wasn’t thinking about that, mind already focused on the future. He wanted a better district, closer to primary schools and day cares with stellar reputation. It was mildly unnerving, to see him come back from work, tie loose and his cheeks flushed from walking up the hill to your home with a list of new places they should go to, recommended by his colleagues. You’d asked around too, and slowly seeing one or two new places jumped from five to ten and eventually thirteen. All of them were disappointing in some way; either Jeongguk or you weren’t satisfied with the garden space, or he found the baby’s room to cramped, or the apartment too close to the main roads. Or the furnishing would not be adequate enough for the rent the landlord was charging. He also wanted benefits, perhaps a gym in the apartment complex or space to build one for himself in a private home. It quickly became apparent to you that Jeongguk wasn’t just looking for a new space, but rather the perfect forever home for him and his family.

Family.

A word you’ve slowly become accustomed to saying in your head. Jeongguk was your partner, and for the most part your family – but this, the baby in your belly. That was your family. A child that belongs to you as much as they belong to Jeongguk. It’s a foreign concept, but your heart swells in anticipation for it every time Jeongguk comes home for work, exhausted by lightening up the second his eyes fall on you and your stomach. It deepens during your doctor’s appointments, quietly observing the attentiveness Jeongguk directs to those meetings, how he notes down every bit of advice the doctors suggest. And its blooms when you begin find copies of parentings books around the house. You’d bought a few of your own for your journey but the shiny novel labelled: ‘Parenting Guide: For New Fathers’ sitting on your kitchen counter does something to you. Jeongguk wanted this more than he let on, and the fact that he was willing to give it up when you felt reluctant shows just how much he loves and cares for you. It feels like a blessing that everything aligned in its own way, perhaps drawn into your life by the desires of your boyfriend and partially by your longing for them too.

You’re lucky enough to find the perfect place thanks to Seokjin. A modern high-rise with the perks Jeongguk wants and enough room for your family to blossom, plus a playground space for your baby to grow in. It’s an arm and a leg to afford but Jeongguk was adamant to provide, and in the back of your head you were already thinking of side-things you can do to support your devoted lover. You move in towards the beginning of January, your previous lease drawing to an end at the perfect time. The new year is ushered in with new furniture and kisses in empty rooms, your sweaters stretching hard over your growing tummy. The journey feels both long and short, marked by moments with your mother, friends and Jeongguk and most importantly by yourself. Hours spent in front of the mirror observing your body change and transform into something new – something strong enough to create life within. Perhaps it’s always been that, yet seeing it occur right before your eyes has been astounding. Jeongguk keeps a steady eye on you, a weight lifting off his shoulders when you finally hand in your resignation letter. Seungmin is surprised, but he stares at your stomach with grudgingness that makes you feel sick.

(And you are the moment you get home, even with the first trimester over).

“Women,” he had muttered under his breathe. “Good for nothing but having babies and abandoning work.”

At first you’d wanted to ignore it, have your final day in the office be a pleasant calm one. Your co-workers were pretty nice, albeit occasionally annoying and deriving too much gratification in gossip but they were nice. Yet how could you, when the source of your stress and anxiety had the nerve to speak to you like that.

“You’re a real fucking piece of shit, you know.” And just like that Seungmin had shut-up, narrowed eyes staring at you in disbelief. “What the fuck have I ever done to you? My work has always been excellent unlike the subpar shit you usually get from everyone here. And yet you’ve been nothing but an annoying piece of shit to me and half your employees here. I don’t know who made you like this but I suggest you leave that shit at the door when you walk in – or else you’ll be dealing with more than just an angry pregnant lady. I’ve heard some pretty interesting harassment lawsuits have been springing up.”

He hadn’t said anything, mouth agape as you’d gotten up, your bag tight in your arms. “Learn to fucking respect the people you work with, or else someone will teach you that lesson.”

You’d stormed out, passing quick goodbyes as your stomach swayed with dread. It had taken more from you than you’d expected but it trepidation had passed as quick as your head hitting toilet the second you’d gotten home. Jeongguk considered buying you a cake just for that, and you’d told him to shut-up. But you could feel like pride and relief in the hug hid given you after you’d told him, and that was all that truly mattered in the grand scheme of things. Not life-sucking leeches like Seungmin.

→

You never really wanted a baby shower. It just felt so overwhelming and attention-seeking to demand that everyone in your life pays mind to you and the baby you were growing, but as pregnancy went on, Yoona and Soomi couldn’t help but insist, taking on the burden of planning it. Jeongguk has helped too, picky over the food and colour co-ordinations to the point where Yoona is considering never talking to him again.

“He’s going to be a nightmare when you plan your wedding,” she says it over a mouthful of rice, swiping through flower arrangement pictures. “Why the hell does he know the difference between gold and rose-gold I can’t even get my husband to figure out two different shades of blue.”

You’d shrugged, the smile on your lips small. “He really likes art, maybe that’s why.”

“A designer’s eye,” Yoona comments, sweeping over the apartment. “I knew they was no way you were responsible for this. Remember when you wanted to paint your apartment walls orange… I’m so glad you met him.”

“Hey! Orange is a really nice colour, it’s very warm and welcoming.”

“Orange is gross and gives people migraines – who have you ever seen purposefully paint their home in the shade of bright orange?” The quirk of her eyebrow makes you laugh, but your still adamant like always.

“It could have been me; I could have been the first.”

“And the last if anyone was smart enough. How’s the baby room coming along.”

You’re up in an instant, partially weighed by the new heaviness in your stomach and chest. “Wanna see? Jeongguk did most of it.” She nods, following you through your new home to the room right beside yours. It opens up to reveal a wide room, painted a pretty pastel yellow, tiny birds and flower wreathes lining the walls. Jeongguk had done it himself, along with the images of Bambi placed on opposing walls. It was his favourite Disney movie after all, and if he aimed on converting your child into loving it too you don’t mind. The crib is adorned with pillow and plushies, carefully picked out for their softness, along with a faded blue blanket that belonged to Jeongguk. His mother had kept it, somewhat pristine for its age and former use. The rest of the room was filled with paraphernalia; a rocking chair given by Namjoon, an assortment of toys partially handed over by Seokjin as his kids have aged and pretty star mobile swaying over the crib.

Yoona’s delight is evident in her smile, padding around the room with the movement of something you can only describe as mother-like. “I could give you baby clothes by the way – Jonghyun is growing so fast and I don’t know what to do with them.”

“That would be nice, thank you.”

“You’re okay with boy clothes? Wait – are you having a boy?”

You roll your eyes, moving forward into the room. “No, we decided to keep it a secret from ourselves, you know this I bet Jeongguk told you.” From the sly shift of her gaze he did. “Soomi is the only one who knows.”

“Why Soomi and why not me?” Yoona pouts, looking exactly like her high-school self.

“Because,” you respond, “Soomi can keep a secret and you can’t.” Her laugh is soft and good-natures because she knows it’s true too.

You fall into small silence, one that feels like memories. How you’d met this girl at the tender age of ten and kept her in your life as you’ve grown from young and wild teenager, confused and reckless adults to this. Mothers. A part of your future that you never truly saw coming.

“He did all of this?” Yoona supplies into the silence. You hum a noise of agreement. “He really cares.”

“He does.”

“I think that’s nice. It’s good you meet him that day – and if I recall when you called me right after you were already calling it the worst day of your life. Now look.”

And you do, fondness creeping forth from your chest. “It was the worst day of my life. He cost me an important job.”

“And he ended up giving you this,” Yoona returns, moving to slip her hand into yours. “A fair trade doesn’t you think.”

“Not a bad one at all,” you say. Your laughs are as light as the dawn sun just breaking beyond the horizon, coloured bright like the paint on the wall of your child’s future room.

“You’re gonna miss this,” Yoona says, squeezing your hand softly. “Once it’s all gone and everyday feels like a challenge… These moments you’re gonna miss them.”

“You miss being pregnant?”

“Maybe,” Yoona wonders out-loud, the look she gives you sneaky. “Jonghyun needs a sibling.”

“God please, give yourself a break. And besides,” You glance at your tummy. “He has a friend on the way.”

Another moment of silence falls, as you both stare at your future while your hand clings to your past and present.

“Remember what I said, at my baby shower?” Yoona whispers, her fingers gripping onto you.

“I remember.” It’s funny that she brings it up, considering what happened that night.

“Well… I’m happy we’re doing this together.” You pause, turning to face her, the smile on her hips matching yours.

“I’m happy we’re doing this together too.” And when she pulls you close for a hug, you remember the girl you once were, unsure and stumbling. It feels nice to know that Yoona was there for you then, and she’s here for you now.

(The shower is more than a success, filled with memories you’ll treasure for ever – and images of Taehyung in a diaper stamped into your memory forever. Yoona and Soomi were right through; having one gave you moments to remember and it felt warm, to be surrounded by the tender adoration and love for your family celebrating the start of something new.)

→

Your baby is late. It’s fitting actually, because that’s something you would do if you were about to be born. But it’s starting to get on your nerves. There’s an unspoken edge hanging in the room, amplified by the constant concerned looks Jeongguk has been throwing your way since your child decided to hang in your womb for a little longer. You’ve been trying to ignore it, but it’s hard when he’s checking up on you for contractions and when the hospital bag has been sitting beside the door for three whole days now. You drown his concern (and yours) with bowls of popcorn and a strange new-found interest in watching old romantic comedies. Jeongguk paces around the apartment while Bridget Jones gets locked in a Taiwan jail for attempted drug smuggling. It would have been a funny moment, expect Jeongguk’s pacing as has the baby moving too and now there’s a tiny foot trying to murder you from the inside. So much energy, an obvious mark of Jeongguk’s genes because any child of yours would definitely prefer to not move instead of brutalising their mother’s insides.

“You’re sure we shouldn’t just go in? Get a check-up or something?” Jeongguk heads peaks from the living-room door frame, locks tousled from the fretting of his fingertips.

“No,” you return, shoving a handful of popcorn in your mouth. It’s more for the effect rather than from enjoyment because for some reason it tastes weird. “We called already, babes. It’s okay, leave the baby alone they’re not ready for the world yet.”

A hard kick into your ribs and you immediately regret saying that. Maybe the baby should just come out – you’re ready for them to.

There’s a line of worry digging into his forehead. “Are you sure? I don’t like this – what if something’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” you say. And fortunately as far as you and the doctors know, nothing is. All the ultrasound and check-up appointments had confirmed that your baby was growing steadily and healthy inside of you. Maybe they just wanted to stay in for a little bit before meeting the word.

“Y/N…” He shifts into the room, beautiful face weighed with concern. “We can go just to check–”

“I’m not doing that Jeongguk.” It’s firm and a little mean but he was fussing like he was the one with a huge baby sitting on his bladder.

“Alright.” It’s a quiet resignation. He moulds into the pillow beside you, careful not to brush against your belly. During the early stages you didn’t mind but now there was a sensitivity that left you irritated and vexed if his hand lingered for longer that five seconds. But you can feel him staring at it and a part of you feels bad for dismissing his concerns. You reach out without a second thought, guiding his palm to the side of your tummy where the kicks echo through.

A huff drifts from his mouth, soft and wondrous. “Strong little girl,” he mumbles, following the pads of the kicks as they breach from under your skin.

“Girl? Did my mom tell you?”

“It’s definitely a girl. She’s stubborn for staying in there when I want to me her. Exactly like you.”

You flick his forehead, caught off guard by the awe sitting in his wide doe eyes. “Mean.”

“How?” Jeongguk whines, petal lips forming a pout. “Bubba, your Mom is calling me mean. Imagine – me!”

“And you called her stubborn.”

“I called you stubborn, she’s a by-product of you so it’s still really your fault.” That playful glint surfaces with an ease that shouldn’t leave you breathless. You hope she has his eyes

“Jeon, shut-up before I something terrible happens to you.”

“What’s the worst that could happen? It’s been six years of empty threats. If you wanted me gone you wouldn’t have had my kid.” You close your eyes in frustration, missing the very important airport scene that all romantic comedies tend to milk to the point of death. Jeongguk laughs at your misery, cooing with the baby kicks against your belly again, as if she’s laughing with him.

She. You’ve been avoiding any gender nouns since the baby shower but now that word seems fitting. A little girl. Your daughter.

“You’re both horrible people,” you return, idly dropping popcorn in your mouth.

Jeongguk gasps, as false as the acting displayed on your television. “Bubba did you hear that? Mom called you a horrible person and she was calling me mean!”

You whack his head, whining when the baby responds to his silly comment with a fist into your stomach. “God, Jeon stop. She gets hyper when you talk to her.”

“She?” Jeongguk raises an eyebrow, still smiling.

“She,” you return.

He falls quiet, staring at your stomach with careful consideration before you see it click in his head. “Anyway, as I was saying –”

“Jeongguk!”

It’s too late and your girl is already awake, kicking and punching every which way like you’re not the sole thing keeping her alive. Jeongguk just giggles but moves with to resettle the pillows behind your back, alleviating what discomfort he can. The tension that gripped the air suddenly lets loose, a calmness filling your head as the evening draws to a close. You only get anxious when you have to slip into bed with him, stomach too far stretched out for you to attain any source of ease. Jeongguk’s already learned to read you well, giving you space and extra pillows where he can, the only thing you hold onto during the night his hand. Somehow, you fall asleep, until your body jerks you awake, a searing pain bleeding through your lower limbs. The ache eats through your grogginess, pulling you up and out of bed where you find with a sudden violent shock that your pyjama pants are soaked. And yet you never panic, fumbling for the lights and heading to the bathroom to pat yourself awake before the next wave of pain stings through.

You poke Jeongguk awake, his eyes snapping open with an urgency that startles you.

“What’s wrong?” His back rips from the mattress as he twists to take you in. “Are you hurt? Sore? Hungry?”

“None of those. I think my water just broke though.”

“Your – what? W-water? You think?” There’s a pause, and then Jeongguk is bounding from the bed like he’s being hunted down and chased. The paleness that sweeps over his face coaxes a giggle out of you, which is immediately washed away by another brief bout of pain.

“Shit,” the word is mumbled again and again under his breath as he runs through the house, collecting last minute things. In a moment he’s guiding you to the door with no shirt but shoes on, keys gripped tight in his hand. “Do we do the breathing thing now? And when was the last contraction? I need to time them.”

“Jeongguk,” you sigh, “Could I change first. I don’t think going to the hospital in Micky Mouse pyjamas is very fitting. And you need to put a shirt on.”

He freezes, spine straight and forehead beading with sweat. “S-sorry–shit. I’m just freaking out let me help you.”

“I’m freaking out too, Jeon. But let’s be calm about it right?”

“Right,” he returns. “But we seriously need to get to the hospital because of the baby comes right now I might faint.”

“Not helping. Jeongguk!”

“Yeah, of course. You put out the set you wanted in the first drawer right?”

“Second drawer. The light blue ones.”

He leaves you staring at the hard wooden floors of your home as he runs to get them, a slight sweat building down your back. The contractions are still spread out, not frequent or concerning just yet. You wanted to stay home for a little to be frank, but judging from the frazzled nature of Jeongguk’s movements you’d rather not ask your boyfriend to wait before rushing into the hospital. You watch him with fondness as he dresses you in the living-room, doe eyes wide with concern and stuck on your stomach. There’s a shirt over his head at least, and a change from his sleeping sweats into clean dark ones.

“Jeongguk,” you whisper.

“Yes?” It’s said with high-alert. “Does it hurt? Should we do the breathing–”

“Jeongguk,” you interrupt. “I think you need to calm down.”

“I am calm.”

You give him a look.

“Okay, I’m not calm,” Jeongguk returns. “But I’m also facing the very real fact that our baby has decided to come into the world in the middle of the night and you’re not freaking out at all which is making me very nervous.”

“I am,” you reply. “I’m just trying to contain it because I don’t want to make it worse. And while I love you Jeongguk I need you not to go crazy on me right now. And I thought you wanted to meet her, she’s decided to come today since you were complaining about it.”

He frowns, lips puckered in an exasperated pout. “Sorry–just–it’s just–I didn’t think it was going to be this scary.”

“It’s not. We just need to get the hospital and everything is going to be okay. So let’s focus on getting into the car first and then we can do the breathing practises, okay.”

Jeongguk stills, eyes drifting to your stomach. You see his shoulder fall lax, a sudden protectiveness lingering on his face. “Okay, let’s start with that.”

→

You were wrong. Very wrong. About everything. Staying at home for even twenty minutes more would have been the worst decision you had ever made because when you baby decided to come into the world, she decided she was coming in fast. Viciously fast. Maybe Jeongguk’s crazed concerned was warranted. Your contractions speed up and get worse during the brief trip to the hospital, and by the time you’re walking in past the doors you’re considered maiming Jeongguk so that he never gets the idea that you want a child again. The staff is incredibly helpful, leading you to your room and bed while Jeongguk calls his parents and yours. It feels both rushed and like everyone is taking their sweet time with you, as if there was a baby literally trying to rip its way out of you. The nurses take the noting of the times Jeongguk recorded, immediately pointing out that your contractions have speed up but not enough to head down to the theatre. Soomi arrives during the two hours they give you to settle, occasionally popping into the check your dilation and contractions.

Her hair is a mess and you can hear the faint sound of Jimin consoling Jeongguk in the hallway. Which is stupid because he’s not the one giving birth, you are.

“Hey, how are you doing?” Soomi starts, drawing near with a container of food. She notes the look of disdain you throw it’s in direction, quickly discards it on a nearby stool.

“Thinking about killing Jeongguk,” you respond. The epidural you requested is not kicking in fast enough.

She laughs, a bright thing that eases you edges a little. “I said the exact same thing when Bora decided to come.”

“Where is she?” You ask, forcing a smile when Jimin walks in the stupid spawn of evil who put you in this hospital bed.

“Taehyung’s. Seokjin and Yoongi are coming tomorrow morning. You think she’ll be here by then? Soomi inquires. You catch the slip of her tongue, a faint smile spreading on your lips as you mumble a greeting to Jimin.

“So it is a girl,” you comment. Jeongguk halts beside you. Maybe you won’t murder him just yet.

“W-well, I – I mean – well, yes it is.”

You’re glad Soomi was the only one who knew. A secret kept right until the last minute.

“I told you,” Jeongguk interjects. “I had a feeling.”

“And I’m feeling like ending your life, so maybe don’t talk right now.”

Jimin’s laughter is loud and unabashed, a direct contrast to the nervous blush staining Jeongguk’s cheeks.

“And now you know why I was scared of Soomi, right?” Jimin comments, ignoring the threatening glare his wife spears into his head. “Have you picked a name yet?”

“Not really,” you return, noticing Jeongguk’s sudden silence. You reach for his hand, heart aching with the fear you might have heart him. He responds automatically, clinging right back onto you. “But there are ideas. We’ll know when we see her.” You say the last sentence while staring at his face, mind already conjuring the image of your girl. Will she have his nose? His cherry cheeks? Will she smile like him? You hope she does – Jeongguk has the best smile in the world. He’s staring at your face like he’s wondering the same, gaze flicking over your features with careful consideration, a gentleness in his eyes that warms you heart even when your contractions decide to resurface, clamouring to be heard in the waves of pain that follow.

“Hey,” there’s a soft hand on your head. “You’ll be okay.” Jeongguk looks worried but you can see him trying to hide it, shoulder tense but his eyes soft.

You respond with a mumbled noise of agreement. “Yeah, when this baby gets the hell out of me. Can somebody call the nurse; my beeper isn’t working.”

Jimin does, leaving Soomi and Jeongguk to hang over you like grey clouds in the sky. You stop focusing on them, letting the murmurs of their encouragement fade into the distance as your focus settles on the bright luminescent hospital lights. Everything shifts into a state of surrealness, marked by moments of doctors prodding you and Jeongguk catching your gaze from his place at your side. Eventually you’re pushed into the theatre room, followed by a trembling Jeon Jeongguk in scrubs and a mask. Soomi and Jimin linger in the hallways while the only thing you hear is one stupid word.

You push until you think you’ve split into two, squeezing Jeongguk’s hand because he should go through this pain too. He doesn’t protest, mumbling words of comfort in your ear while you attempt to crack the bones in his hand.

“You’re doing so well – see look she’s almost here,” he murmurs, hand a grounding force when he strokes your cheek. “Just one more, my love. One more push.”

And then finally, finally, you hear that cry, the pressure in your hips waning. It’s immediately replaced by a quiet awe descending on your both. The nurses congratulate you, cleaning and swaddling your baby up before hastily placing her on your chest. If the tears on your face are from pain or love you wouldn’t know. They are one and the same right now, the splitting of your heart aching in your chest as the love for your child pours out. She’s got his nose. You see it instantly, her eyes are still shut, but you think she has his eyes too. She’s so adorable and too tiny for the world. You feel it then, the fierce need to protect her from anything and everything. Jeongguk’s drops down to your level too, enclosing you both like he feels it too. There’s no need for words to be said, the silent exchange of wonder between you two enough as your baby breaks into weak forlorn cry.

Her name is a quiet decision, vocalised by Jeongguk reaching to graze his thumb across her small cheek. “Hello Jieun-ie…. Hi baby... Don’t cry bubba, we’re here. Hmm, we’re here my love.”

→

Jieun is a blessing. There’s something about her gummy little smile and those chubby mochi like cheeks that makes your heart warm with adoration. She’s got Jeongguk’s eyes too, little stars trapped in her loving gaze. It’s almost addictive, how soft and plush she is in your arms. You want her to stay small and tiny forever, under the protective gaze of her mother. Even the slightest thought of anything negative happening to her, makes your heart seize with terror. You didn’t know it was possible to have space for this much love in your heart but Jieun’s carved out a place just for her, a home in your heart besides Jeongguk.

You try and think of that love and warmth during moments like this - when she’s up all night, screaming her lungs out. You’ve checked her diaper, nothing. You’ve gently directed her wailing mouth to your nipple, immediate rejection from her chubby hands. You’ve rocked her around the room for the past forty minutes, softly bouncing her against your hip, but to no avail either. She’s not hungry, or dirty or tired. You’re lost on how to ease her back to sleep and your patience is quickly wearing thin. The gurgle of spit on your shoulder isn’t making the situation any more tolerable either anyway.

“Why’s my baby crying,” Jeongguk coos from the bedroom, voice groggy with sleep. You’d left him in bed and taken Jieun out when she’d gotten fussy, afraid to rouse him. He’d picked up some long shift once again and it pained you to see him shuffle to work early in the morning with barely any sleep on his face.

“I’ve got her; you can go back to sleep.” You try to reassure him but the incredulous look he gives in you in response has your put together facade crumbling. “I don’t know what’s wrong.” It’s mumbled in the cool air of your apartment, the shame in your tone drawing him closer.

“Hungry?” He says, there’s a hand against the small of your back, warm from the bed he was wrapped in.

“No,” You whine back, briefly closing your eyes when Jieun lets out a particular ear splitting wail.

“Oh no, baby. Don’t cry. Daddy’s here.” You press her into his hands wordlessly, a heavy weight on your chest when you finally take a look at him. He looks like he’s been run over by a truck, skin pasty and flat from sleep. His hair sticks out haphazardly from his head, a wild brown mane that’s overdue for a cut. There’s shadows under his eyes and a deep line forming between his eyebrows. A consequence of how often he frowns at things. Like he’s doing at Jieun now, eyes barely open in the dim light filling your living room.

You subconsciously reach out, pressing the pad of your thumb between his brows and massaging until his gaze relaxes. Jeongguk looks at you perplexed, murmuring sweetly into Jieun’s ear while he stains his shirt with her snot.

“Premature wrinkles,” you softly mutter. His eyes flash and then he’s shaking his head, gaze focused on Jieun.

“Bubba, why do you keep crying? Hmm?” He lifts her up gently, sniffing her bottom while she protests violently. “You’re not dirty either.” He cradles her tenderly once again and for a brief moment, she closes her mouth, wide eyes on her daddy. Neither of you move, frozen by the hope that she's satiated. And then her lips purse tightly, followed by them falling open with a thundering wail.

“Jesus,” Jeongguk whispers, hands gently running along her back. “Where do you get your lungs from? Huh bubba?” Jieun responds with a miserable cry, grubby hands flailing through the air. You catch one for her marshmallow fists, bemused when she smacks your hand away.

“What is wrong with her?” You can’t help but ask, feeling like you’ve been thrown off a boat and left to drown. Parenting shouldn’t be this difficult —  she’s only five months.

“Honestly?” Jeongguk's face seems down. “I don’t know either.” He rocks her softly and is rewarded by a softer cry. It takes a couple more minutes of bouncing from Jeongguk for her crying to wane away. You cautiously move closer, taking her hand into your own again, heart thumping when she grabs back at you tightly. You trail your thumb against her tiny fist, glancing up to find Jeongguk staring at your joint hands with a weird look in his eyes.

“Should we go to bed?” He asks, peering at you beneath his long brown bangs. Jieun hiccups at that, immediately falling silent when she nuzzles in her father’s neck. They have the same soft wavy brown hair, but Jieun’s is a little bit sparser, not as thick as her Daddy’s. You gently pry your hand away from hers as you nod, a pleased sigh coming from Jeongguk.

The bed is cool, sheets tipping towards the floor. There’s only a fraction of warmth against your skin when you finally crawl in, bones going soft at the touch of the mattress. Jeongguk makes a move to settle Jieun in her cradle but you shake your head, hand gesturing to the space beside you. He gets in without another word, gently resting her body between the two of you. Her breathing is even, eyes fluttering every other moment, teasing dreams you won’t ever hear and she won’t ever remember. You hope they’re good regardless.

You can’t help the wandering hand that settles on her plush little thigh, fingers grazing against the soft skin there. She’s so big already, it’s insane to see her grow so quickly right before your eyes. This was the girl who was kicking your stomach at every chance and sitting heavy on your bladder. The little baby that demanded you eat pickles with ice-cream and Cheetos dipped in chocolate syrup when she was in your belly. It’s surreal to see her sighing and gurgling outside of your body. It also makes you nervous, how little control you have over her environment. There’s no way you can ensure that she’s comfortable and safe at all times. Or happy and fulfilled. Which hurts like hell. This is your baby and you would do anything to protect her.

Maybe Jeongguk must feel the same because he pipes up, breaking the quiet of the night. “Are you worried? About Jieun?”

“Of course. Aren’t you?”

“All the damn time,” He mutters. You look up, eyes landing on the heavy gaze that’s directed at her sleeping face. “I’m so worried. What if we’re messing this up? I know we’ve barely started but sometimes it feels like too much. I don’t want to see her cry or you tired all the time. How do we know we’re doing the right thing? I want to make sure she’s stable and safe but there’s so much more to come and I’m going to mess up. I know I will.”

It’s a lot for you to digest. The way he blurts it out — it sounds like it’s been on his mind for a while now. It’s a stark contrast to the surety you were greeted with in the delivery room and the man who wanted this to happen in the first place. He doesn’t sound regretful, just terrified of the uncertainty of the future.

“Jeongguk,” You say, trying to wipe the exhaustion from your voice. He needs someone to lean on right now, and even if your heart feels heavy with the words he’s said, you’ll pretend to be that person anyway. “That’s okay. I’m going to mess up too. There’s no manual on how to do this. No one knows how to be a parent. Every child is different. We’re never going to be perfect. We just need to try our best at this.” You reach for his hand, intertwining your small fingers against his larger bigger ones. You give them a squeeze, pleased when Jeongguk looks up at you. “That’s all we need to do. Not everything will be perfect. We just need to try our best to make Jieun happy. Right?” He nods at that, holding your hand tighter. “And stop worrying. She loves you. You’re a great dad.”

He stares at you deeply, still gripping your hand. You watch that soft smile slip onto his face in silence, a warmth bubbling in your chest.

“And you’re a great mom,” He whispers back. You ache to lean over Jieun’s sleeping body, press a chaste kiss against your boyfriend’s lips. But a loud gurgle from her has both of you glancing down concerned. She’s kicking her legs gently, mouth halfway open and drool around her lips. You wipe her mouth fondly, letting go of Jeongguk’s hand to do so.

“We should sleep, shouldn’t we,” He mumbles, burrowing his head into the pillow.

“We should.”

“Hmm. Goodnight bubba,” He whispers at Jieun and then he glances up, eyes soft. “Goodnight Y/N.”

“Goodnight Jeongguk,” You return, giddy for some stupid reason. “Goodnight Jieun-ie.”

There’s a beat of silence, when the air is only filled with the rise and fall of your chests in union, punctuated by the occasional sigh from Jieun. And then Jeongguk is kicking your feet beneath the blanket, eyes open and on you.

“I love you,” He whispers, crust forming around his eyes. You kick him back, a warm feeling settling in your chest as your eyes flicker between your baby and the love of your life. It’s oddly perfect, despite the lack of sleep, despite how groggy the both of you are, despite the uncertainty of the future. None of that matters at that moment. Because you’re here, in your home, in bed with the two people you hold near and dear to your heart. You’ll tackle it together, whatever challenges the future holds for you. Because this is your family.

“I love you too, Jeongguk.”

[blu-joons]

“Junmyeon Knows Best!” ~ Kim Junmyeon

A small sigh came from you as you walked out onto the decking of your parents’ home, watching as the cold breeze caused a trail of air to fly out from your lips, moving effortlessly away from you through the breeze as the sun began to set on yet another day.

In your hands you held on tightly to a warm mug of tea, trying your best to savour as much of the warmth as possible from it. Home was cold, something you remembered as soon as the plane landed as you arrived home for Christmas.

It had been some time since you’d been able to go there, home, with your diary so full, and Junmyeon’s too, you found the majority of your year was spent in Seoul, with only a limited amount of time for you both to get to go anywhere.

You couldn’t lie, you loved your life with Junmyeon, even if it was on the other side of the world, but there was always something magical about returning home, remembering all of the little things that you used to love back when you were little.

Your train of thought was disturbed by the sound of the creaking back door opening, snapping your head back to watch as Junmyeon took a couple of steps out onto the decking after sliding his feet into the new slippers that your aunt had purchased for him.

“Did I do good suggesting that we came here for Christmas this year?” He joked as he came up alongside him, placing his own mug of tea on the garden table to his other side.

As your head nodded back at him, Junmyeon couldn’t help but allow the corners of his mouth to turn upwards, knowing too how good of an idea it was of his. Whilst you had worried about time, Junmyeon had made sure that the two of you both had enough time to finally give you the chance to go home.

For weeks, you assured him that you didn’t mind another holidays in Seoul, that you’d be able to make time for your family when you could, but he refused to listen. Deep down, he knew how much you were missing them, and most of all, he knew how much anguish there was behind each smile that you gave him.

“Did Junmyeon know best?” He teasingly pushed, wrapping his arm around your waist, tickling gently into your side, “I couldn’t imagine a better place for us to spend Christmas then here.”

Your head nodded once again as you felt a kiss be pressed against your chilled cheek, the sudden warmth of Junmyeon’s lips enough to send a shiver down your spine, encouraging you to embrace the cold that came with being back at home.

It was a cold that took a lot of adjusting for Junmyeon too, but slowly he was getting used to it. “I always know best,” he whispered down to you with a proud smile.

“You definitely don’t, you’re constantly getting things wrong.”

“Go and ask any of the boys,” he encouraged, nudging his hip into yours, “they’ll tell you how smart I am, they say they couldn’t do Exo without me.”

Your eyes rolled as Junmyeon continued to brag, taking a couple of small sips from your mug before placing it down beside his. As you did so, Junmyeon kept holding onto you, making sure that you didn’t go tumbling off of the side of the decking, a mishap that had already happened twice during your trip out.

“At least if I wasn’t sure before now, I know now that your parents definitely like me,” Junmyeon acknowledged, glancing down at you, “I can see why you get your buying skills from, their presents for me were impeccable.”

“I’m surprised the Christmas jumper went down so well,” you laughed, peering through the small gap in his coat to see whether he still had the jumper on.

In response, Junmyeon proudly unfastened the zipper, showing it off to you once again. “Are you kidding? No one has ever bought me a proper Christmas jumper before, your parents got me the best present ever.”

His enthusiasm brought a smile to your face as you felt a tickle against the back of your neck. Your hand quickly came up, feeling in your hairline where the damp spot had landed, tilting your eyes up momentarily to figure out what had caused the sudden drop.

Junmyeon’s eyes looked up too as he felt something brush against the tip of his ear too, taking a look around to try and figure out what was going on.

“Surely it can’t rain, not on Christmas Day,” you huffed, drying out your hair.

The two of you tried to ignore what was going on for a few more moments, but as your attention turned back to your mug of tea, Junmyeon continued to keep an eye on the sky. As the weather began to worsen, it became clearer too, with what the two of you first assumed to be snow, slowly turning out to be something even greater than you could have ever dreamed of.

Once you finished your drink, Junmyeon spun you around, pointing across to the bushes that acted as a barrier between you and your neighbours where the weather began to settle.

“Can you see on the tips of the leaves,” he whispered into your ear, pressing your back to his chest.

“No way,” you gasped as your eyes followed to where Junmyeon pointed, watching as the snow fell.

You knew that there was only a very limited window for you to be able to enjoy the snow, when the snow came, rain soon followed, and so you quickly grabbed a hold of Junmyeon’s hand, pulling him indoors so that the two off you could get changed.

Junmyeon was left with no choice as you gave him a hard tug, struggling to keep up with your pace. “Y/N, I’m not as fit as I used to be, I don’t want to collapse at Christmas.”

Your mind was focused entirely elsewhere as Junmyeon called out to you, running up to your bedroom as quickly as you could, rummaging through your suitcase. In between getting yourself ready for the snow, you instructed Junmyeon on what he was to do, knowing that his suitcase was filled with winter woollies like your own.

“Are you ready to head out?” You asked, jumping up as soon as you were finished, tugging your jumper properly around your figure. As your eyes looked to Junmyeon, he hurried to finish fastening his boots, hoping to get outside into something.

“Are you forgetting something?” He called out as you began to walk out of the room, spinning on your heels to see him stood, holding your thick coat up in the air.

“I’m sure that it won’t be that cold out there,” you sighed, taking the coat from him anyway.”

His eyes rolled at how stubborn you were, “you don’t want to catch a cold, be careful instead.”

You threw your jacket on as you ran down the stairs, calling out to the rest of your family members where the two of you were going. Once again, Junmyeon struggled to keep up with you, clattering into your side as you made your way out.

“There’s hardly any set,” he groaned as you made your way back out into the garden.

Although there was very little on the floor, it was what fell from the sky that you were focused on. As you spun around in the middle of the garden, you couldn’t help but smile as you enjoyed the best ending to what had been the perfect day.

“Just enjoy the snowfall,” you commented, reaching out to take a hold of Junmyeon’s hand, “it feels nice against your skin, right?”

“You know, it’s getting in my eyes.”

A quiet chuckle came from you as you reached up to brush the droplets of snow away from his face, making sure that you caught over his scar gently. “You should have worn a hat if you didn’t want to get covered in snow, if you had known best.”

“Playing me at my own game?”

Your shoulders shrugged with a wide smile as you invited yourself in to rest against Junmyeon’s chest, feeling his arms immediately wrap around you, running along your frame to try and keep you as warm as possible.

“You’re not getting cold, are you?” He teased into your ear.

Your head shook, although as his hand came up to press against your cheek, Junmyeon could feel just how cold you were. “No one can ever stay warm in the winter; it doesn’t matter how many layers you put on.”

“But I helped telling you to put a coat on,” he acknowledged, tickling gently against the side of your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“I admit, the coat is helping me combat the snow,” you caved, refusing to look at him as Junmyeon celebrated his small personal victory, “but you know that I would have been just fine if I didn’t wear a coat too.”

“Why can you never just admit that Junmyeon knows best,” he laughed in reply to you.

You smirked in reply to him, tilting your head back to meet his eyes, “I hate admitting that you know better than me.”

“It would make my Christmas,” he continued to try and push, but you refused, only to feel yourself slip out of his warm hold and back out into the cold. A gasp came from you as you spun around, knowing what you had to say in order to be embraced by the man before you once again.

“Fine, Junmyeon, you know best.”

---

Surprise! @myeoning-call​, I’m your slightly last-minute Secret Santa this year! I really hope that you enjoy this little Junmyeon treat and have a great holidays and new year! <3

@exolssecretsanta​

---

Masterlist

[hyungieyoongi]

Found: “Run Away to You” Part 1

Let me go.

He was, without a doubt, your hardest goodbye.

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Former Actress!Reader 

Word Count: 1.6K

Genre: Fluff + Angst 

Series Masterlist: Run Away to You 

Premise: You ran away from your acting career one year ago, disappearing from the spotlight without a trace. No one from your past life knew where to find you. On the anniversary of your disappearance, your carefully constructed reality is shattered.

// Part 2

---

Looking at the calendar on your wall, the date glared back at you, red marker encircling the number as if you could forget it.

One year. It had been one whole year since you ran away from your old life.

Happy anniversary to me, you thought bitterly.

It hadn’t been easy–no, it had been tactful, strategic. Your best friend-turned-publicist, Marianne, had programmed your social media accounts to simultaneously deactivate. The phone you used for “celebrity” contacts and business-related matters was permanently turned off, stashed away in the back of a drawer. You had already moved all your belongings to a new apartment on the other side of the city, address undisclosed to everyone except Marianne and your parents on the other side of the world. Everything had been in place for you to completely disappear.

You were instructed to lay low for at least one entire month, groceries delivered to your door under a fake name with Marianne’s credit card. You had cut your hair, once long and flowing, to your collarbone. It was often hidden under a baseball hat when you went to your favorite café for a coffee or took your elderly neighbor’s dog for walks around the park. You were completely off the radar, just as intended.

That didn’t stop the world from trying to track you down for a while. Fan blogs speculated where you could have gone, and tabloids splashed old pictures of you on their covers with speculative headlines. Your parents even had to install a state-of-the-art security system in your hometown in the States after a magazine found out where you grew up and tried to break into their backyard. But you weren’t naïve enough to go back home; that was the first place people would expect you to go. Instead, you were hidden in plain sight in Seoul, just sans the flashes of the cameras following you. Without the designer clothes or big sunglasses hiding your features, you looked just like anyone else. Undetectable.  

You had grown up in America, studying acting and Korean during your time at university with Marianne. Upon graduation, you landed a major role in a K-drama, uprooting your entire life to move to Seoul. For five years, you lived in the spotlight under the industry’s microscope. People said you were living the dream, but it started to feel more like a nightmare. It became overwhelming, suffocating.

When the show wrapped after three seasons, you knew it was time. You decided to run. You just wish you didn’t have to hurt anyone else in the process. Especially him.

You had instructed Marianne to give him a letter explaining why you had to go away, but she never heard back from him.

Let me go, Yoongi. Don’t look for me. This is for the best. I will always care about you. – Y/N

The words were emblazoned in your memory, your eyes tearing up at the thought of him reading the words you wrote to him.

Let me go.

He was, without a doubt, your hardest goodbye.  

Your cell phone rang, distracting you from the memories that plagued your thoughts today.

“Good afternoon, dearie!” Marianne chirped on the other end of the phone. “It’s a big day for you. The first half of your manuscript came back from the publisher, so get excited to do some editing!” Hiding away from the world for a year gave you a lot of time to think. For you, that meant time to write. Marianne seamlessly transitioned from being your publicist for your acting career to managing your budding career as an author, even helping you pick out a pseudonym.  

“That’s great news,” you mumbled in reply, taking a long sip of your coffee, the bitterness blooming on your tongue.

“Are you alright? You sound, I don’t know, a little off,” Marianne questioned, concern lacing her normally peppy tone.

“It’s been one year, Marianne,” you replied, knowing she’d understand.

“Oh my,” Marianne said after a beat of silence. “It completely slipped my mind. How are you holding up?”

“I’m alright just a little…weird, I guess? I’m so relieved to have my own life again. But I’m also just kind of mourning my old life today.”

“Oh babe, I’m so sorry you’re going through this. Do you want me to come over after work–we can order takeout and watch a movie? Take your mind off things?” Marianne offered.

“No, that’s okay. I think I’m just going to spend the day doing some self-care. We’re meeting tomorrow to discuss the manuscript timeline, right?”

“Yes, of course! I’ll be at the café at 11:00 a.m. Are you sure you’ll be okay today?” Marianne asked, clearly not convinced that you were telling the truth about being alright.

“I’ll call you if I need you, I promise,” you reassured her.

“Night or day, Y/N, you know I’m here.”

After you both said your goodbyes and ended the call, you started to feel restless, needing something to take your mind off the date and the competing emotions swirling in your brain. You decided fresh air and comfort food were the solution.  

Grabbing your keys off the table by the front door, you slipped on your shoes, heading for the local corner store in your neighborhood, mindlessly forgetting your hat on the hook on the wall.

---

Mask pulled over the lower half of his face to conceal his appearance, Yoongi slipped into a nearby corner store, saving himself from the prying eyes that seemed to be examining him a little too closely from across the street.

He had snuck out of the studio without security, wanting to just take a moment to breathe all to himself. He had driven around Seoul with no destination in mind, eventually stopping in a neighborhood he found with a quiet park for a walk. His thoughts betrayed him as they kept going back to you and the letter he received one year ago, now crumpled in the top righthand drawer of his desk. He didn’t need to pull it out today to remember exactly what it said.

Let me go.

Once he read those words, he had stopped reading, smashing the paper together between his fists in frustration, shoving it in the drawer. It had stayed unopened since last year.

Yoongi aimlessly wandered through the aisles of the store, his mind continuously returning to that drawer. He had worked so hard to stop thinking about it–about you–over the past year. Today was a harsh reminder that you were still on his mind. He had stopped calling a long time ago, knowing that you wouldn’t pick up or return his calls. Sometimes though, if he had a little too much to drink with the boys, he’d call your number just to hear your voice on the voicemail recording. He didn’t tell anyone about those late-night calls.

Rounding the aisle corner, he collided with someone, knocking the snacks they had bundled in their arms to the ground. They immediately knelt down, trying to collect them.

“Shit, I’m sorry. Here, let me help you,” Yoongi offered, starting to lean over.

“Oh, no that’s okay I’ve got it.” Yoongi froze, his body going rigid. That voice. Your voice. He hadn’t heard it in-person in over a year. The sweetness of it rang through his ears, reminiscent of the voicemail he knew by heart.

It was you. After all this time.

---

Standing up with your snacks back safely in your grasp, you looked at the man in front of you who seemed to be barely breathing.

You were about to ask if he was alright, but then you recognized it. The black hat–the one with two rings on the edge that he would often wear when he went out. His mask had slipped below his nose, his pale cheeks slightly squished under the pressure of the fabric. Black hair poked out from underneath the hat, falling onto his forehead and into his dark brown eyes. They were wide with shock.  

You felt the color rush from your face, hands beginning to shake because this wasn’t supposed to happen.

You were safe. Safe in your self-made bubble away from the world.

Until he found you. And it burst.

You contemplated turning around, pretending you hadn’t recognized him. Leave him again. But you knew that wasn’t an option now. You had to face the thing you were most scared of–him.

“Yoongi, I-” your voice cracked, barely above a whisper.

“Your hair,” Yoongi remarked, cutting you off, tone flat and quiet. “You cut your hair.” His eyes narrowed at you.

You swallowed the lump that had lodged itself in your throat. “Just...wanted a change, I guess.”

Hide. You wanted to hide.

“You seem to have gone through a lot of changes,” Yoongi said, bitterness seeping into his voice.

You winced at the implication of his words. You took a deep breath to try and collect yourself before replying.

“Can we...can we not do this here?”

“Fine.”

“I live around the corner. Maybe we could just...talk?” you asked, averting your eyes to the ground. When you didn’t hear a reply, you looked back up to Yoongi, who nodded at you once in agreement.

Abandoning your would-be purchases, you walked out the front door of the store, Yoongi silently following behind you. You felt his eyes burning into your back.

Just put one foot in front of the other, you thought to yourself.

As you and Yoongi silently walked to your apartment, neither of you noticed the camera pointed at the two of you, snapping the photo that would change everything.

// Part 2

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[bratkook]

eleven months. (m) myg. two.

masterlist.

pairing: min yoongi x reader genre: fluff, slow burn!!!, eventual smut, warnings: brief non-descriptive mention of death, otherwise none word count: 7k author’s note: here’s some more backstory on both of them as well as more interaction beyond yoongi hunting down an album by the cure lmao. like i said before, i’m really soft for yoongi in this story so lmk what you think! (also..because i hate myself and love piling up wips, theres mention of oc having a previous love interest that’s actually part of another story that takes place in this universe that’s a prequel soooo...coming soon lol) taglist (open): @min-yus​ summary: it’s been years of yoongi living his routine life, accustomed to his pace of living, going with the flow and simply existing. until you come along. yoongi absolutely can not see the logic in the way you live, but he weirdly craves it. craves the feeling of not being afraid of not knowing what’s coming, being able to just let the cards fall wherever they land. and maybe you can help with that.

In the next coming weeks it becomes obvious that Yoongi is in fact a regular. His routine visits allow you to remember the usual days and times he’d pop in, so you knew if you’d be working on his chosen days. 

Somewhere in between his casual drop ins, the two of you had formed somewhat of a friendship— or the beginning stages of one at least. Yoongi liked your sense of humor, how open and friendly you were to anyone you encountered, always having something to say about anything. Conversation came easy to you, never running out of stories. It left Yoongi thinking you’ve definitely lived about ten lifetimes compared to him.

In turn, you liked how he let you steer the conversation any way you chose. Most people would probably watch on in horror at the way you’d go from talking about a specific song or band, and then switching to a story about how you chased a pickpocketer during your travels before moving on to talking about your roommate’s cat. None of it gave him whiplash though, seamlessly flowing into the next topic with a grin on his face, never feeling like he had to think too hard to keep it going. It worked best this way. Yoongi was observant by nature, a great listener above it all, so if you were the one doing most of the talking it was fine by him. 

Everyone at Rkive360 had taken notice that Yoongi’s usual five minute visits had turned into ten, and then twenty, until it became very clear he was lingering inside the store. No one told him anything, besides the fact that he was bestfriends with the owner and had immunity, all of you were fond of him. Taehyung enjoyed the sly remarks Yoongi would make, Sana just enjoyed ogling at him, Namjoon would never mind seeing him, and you would take any chance you could to attempt to wow him with your small knowledge of music. 

It was a nice distraction whenever he stopped by, always heading straight to the back where the vinyl was kept. Sometimes he had a specific album in mind, other times he was simply browsing, but he only ever bought one at a time. It was routine, maybe even a weird ritual of sorts if he really thought about it. 

On the days you knew he’d be coming you would spend a little extra time in the beginning of your shift picking out a few records to suggest to him if he didn’t have one in mind. Because of this, he had stopped his usual path to the bins and now came directly to you, the first stray off his usual routine. 

Today you’re standing behind the counter, ringing up a customer when he walks in, a smile on your face as you chat away. He patiently waits at the far corner, leaning back against it as his eyes roamed the interior of the store, taking note of the way Sana and Taehyung were trying and failing to build a giant display. It looks like a mess of parts, scattered around with no instruction manual in sight— definitely Taehyung’s idea to toss it judging by Sana’s look of frustration. 

He tears his gaze away from them beginning to argue when he hears you wish the customer a good day as they leave, pushing away from the counter and shuffling your way with a grin on his face. You smile back at the way his doughy cheeks push out, high points of them reflecting the light from above. 

“Any shirt facts of the day?”

That had also become another common occurrence. Whenever you decided to wear a band shirt, he somehow always had random facts about whoever it was. It didn’t matter if it was some obscure french band or a 90’s rapper, Yoongi knew something about everyone, like some walking encyclopedia of musical artists. So when you take a step away and spread your arms out, he sees your shirt of choice today is The Doors, and he scoffs. Too easy.

“The Doors were the first band to ever advertise a new album on a billboard.” He nods his head slowly, almost as if he’s telling you yes I know, amazing right?

A hum leaves your lips at his fun fact, slightly impressed by it. “Interesting. Like always, I did not know that.” You peek under the counter top at the selection of records you kept stowed away for him, safe from any undeserving customers. “Now, do you want to see my daily, hand picked selection just for you.”

This was his new favorite pastime, getting to see the random albums you’d group together for him, wanting to know what you thought was worthy for him to listen to. When he nods, rubbing his hands together in excitement, you haul up the stack and carefully spread them out across the top.

The genre of the day was R&B, he can tell that much as he sorts through the albums. You’re familiar with the way he clumps together certain records, marking them down as albums he already owns, until he gets to an orange colored cover. The words The Internet fill the top right corner along with Ego Death on the bottom left. This he had never heard before. He picks it up and flips it over, scanning the song names with interest.

His eyes raise up to yours with curiosity, the same sharp gaze that somehow still makes you nervous holds the obvious question being passed between you with no need for words: are they any good? And the way you nod your head immediately convinces him enough. “Alright, I’ll give them a shot.”

A small sense of pride fills your chest, a tiny victory whenever he decides to pick something from your stack, trusting whatever music knowledge you had somehow convinced him you have. “I promise you’ll love them.”

When you hand him his change and the brown paper bag, you immediately check the time and clock out, dipping back under the counter and grabbing your bag from its hidden spot.

“Are you off?” Yoongi finds himself asking, no longer used to leaving immediately after he purchased something. The usual fifteen minute conversation you two had was missing today, and he’s not too sure how he feels about that. 

“Yes I am, you were my last customer. The store will now be run by those two heathens. Here’s to hoping they don’t bite each others heads off while they finish building whatever the fuck that is.” Taehyung is now standing up, lazily holding up a part of the display as Sana tries to screw something together, angrily giving Taehyung commands but he only mimics her with a ridiculous face. And when she socks his thigh, her fist aiming a little too close to home, you let out a laugh.

Yoongi highly doubts that’s going to be possible, Namjoon would probably have to be the one left to finish building the display while also putting them on opposite sides of the store whenever he came in for the day. It was truly a shock that they had gone this long working together without an actual fist fight breaking out. If it came down to it, Yoongi had his money on Sana being able to whoop Tae’s ass. 

“Do you know any good take out spots nearby? I’m starving and I’m still new to the area so I’ll take any recommendations.” Your voice snaps him back, his eyes looking at you briefly as the question registers within him.

“Oh, yeah. There’s a place not too far from here that has pretty good jajangmyeon.”

“Hell yeah.” Your hands pat your belly softly, coming up to readjust your bag as you walk around the counter and head for the door, shouting out a goodbye to Taehyung and Sana as you leave the store. When you exit the shop, your hand holding the door open behind you, you glance back inside in confusion when you spot Yoongi still standing by the counter with wide eyes. “Well, aren’t you coming?”

Truth be told, he had been wanting to talk to you outside of work for a while but he was scared to ask, not wanting to make you feel obligated to say yes just because he was a regular at your place of employment. Something about you seemed familiar to him, and to be quite honest he just craved social intimacy. His job consumed him and coming into this record shop was the small escape he needed, you being there was just a newly added plus.

You’re on the same page he is, wanting to hang out with him just as much as he had, something about the way he seemed like a half open book interested you. Throughout all of your adventures you had forced yourself to come out of your shell, no longer afraid or bashful when it came to initiating friendships. If you wanted to get to know someone better, then you’d bite first. And you definitely wanted to get to know Yoongi better.

It takes him a moment to react, his gaze switching from you to look back over at your coworkers, seeing Sana sending you a curious glance. Yoongi was about to attempt to muster up the courage to ask you to hang out and you beat him to the punch, but after a second he grins at you with a nod. Of course he was coming.

The weather in Seoul is forgiving today, the usual cold of autumn being prevalent in the air without the need to bundle up, the slight wind not stinging your skin as it blows around you. This was probably your favorite season, comfortable enough for you to do whatever you want without feeling restricted by heavy layers or sticky from the heat. 

A soft smile is on your lips, hands shoved into the pockets of your baggy cardigan, and a small pep in your step as your eyes take in the world around you. That feeling you get when you visit a new town on vacation, how you’re just passing through for a brief moment in a place so many call home, it makes you realize how small you actually are. 

It’s a feeling you always longed for, to experience a new place and make it home, it's the main reason you always bounced around so much. Staring at all the shops around you, taking in all the people just going about their daily life, you’re content with your new choice of scenery. 

Too lost in your own head as you take in the shops and people around you, you snap out of it when Yoongi reaches out and clasps a hand on your shoulder, steering you to turn right when you keep walking straight. “Get your head out of the clouds.” 

He hears the snort you let out, allowing him to guide you the correct way. Slowly trailing away from the main road, the amount of people lessens, only a handful of stores line up around the alley you had turned into. When you spare a glance at Yoongi you can see the excitement on his face, speeding up his pace until he’s standing in front of the restaurant. It’s a small hole in the wall shop that didn’t even look like it served food from the outside, all black exterior with a red sign hung up on top showcasing their name, Ipum.

It’s charming, and the way Yoongi spreads his arm out puts a similar smile on your face. Only then does he pull open the door, allowing you to step in first before he follows. 

Once Yoongi steps inside he’s immediately greeted by the workers calling out his name in glee, bowing in response with a bashful smile as he approaches the small counter set up for take out orders, not needing to read the menu. You don’t realize he’s waiting for you as you take in the interior of the restaurant, the red dining tables surprisingly packed despite their lack of advertising outside. This place really must be as good as Yoongi promised.

“Anything specific you want?” he asks, finger pointing to the small menu in his hand in case you needed it. When you shake your head, letting him know he can order anything he wants, he does exactly that, placing two orders of jajangmyeon, along with fried dumplings and sweet and sour pork to complete it. It was his go to choices whenever he came, so he hopes you’ll enjoy it as much as he does. 

As you step to the side, backs pressed against the wall closest to the counter in order to keep the space open for the workers and patrons to walk comfortably in the small shop, you turn your head to glance at Yoongi again. “You come here often?”

The way the workers had spoken to him had made that glaringly obvious, but you wanted to hear it from him, wanted to know if he came here for comfort food or some other weird tradition like his ‘one-vinyl-a-day’ way of life. 

It was sort of a habit he had fallen into years ago. Having grown up in this city his whole life, he had stumbled upon this place his last year of high school. It had become a staple soon after, a place he would come to directly after classes were done to come stuff his face before heading home. Then it became a place his girlfriend and him frequented when the apartment they moved into turned out to be a mere block away. 

In a way, the owners of this shop had become like a second family. The amount of times they’ve seen Yoongi at his best and worst throughout the years, never once throwing judgment his way even if he came in beyond plastered back in the years he used to drink, never turning him away even if he cried into his noodles. 

He decides that’s a little too much to unpack right now, so he just nods in confirmation. “Yeah, I’ve been coming here for years. One taste of their noodles and you’ll be hooked too, trust me.”

Oh you trusted him, the amount of plates you’ve seen so far just made your mouth water once they passed by you and the smell of the food reached your nose. “We should’ve just sat down, I’m not gonna be able to wait until I get home to eat this.”

As you say this one of the workers approaches you two with a tied up plastic bag in his hand, the inside stuffed with takeout boxes and utensils for you to take. Yoongi grasps the bag with a smile and thanks him as he walks away. “Don’t worry, I live like a block away.”

He realizes how his words could be taken immediately, how he had assumed you two would innocently go back to his place to share a meal. You had invited him to eat but the location of where you would be doing so had not been discussed and the last thing he wanted was to come across as a sleaze.

His mouth was ready to back track completely, until he sees the way you dramatically place your hand over your chest, and he knows it's too late, “Oh damn, your place? Saucy, but I’m starving so I’ll do almost anything.”

You can see the way he relaxes when he notices you aren’t being serious, taking his words lightly the way he intended them. His eyes roll behind his lids, a lazy smile gracing his lips as he shoves your shoulder lightly to get you to start walking. 

“Is jajangmyeon all it takes?”

“Slow your roll, good jajangmyeon is all it takes. I’ve yet to have a taste.”

Yoongi smiles at your words, taking the lead when you step out of the shop and turn back down towards the main street. His apartment was on the next block over, a short walk that you didn’t mind, especially since he took it upon himself to point at random stores you passed to let you know the best places to get what.

He has a lot of love for this city, the memories it possesses spread out through his entire childhood and early adult years, lingering in each crack on the sidewalk. He often sits and wonders how different his life would be if his parents had decided to move to Busan instead of Seoul, or stayed in Daegu altogether. The thought of the timeline of his life being altered so drastically to the point of possibly not being able to be living this moment sends his mind into a flurry, so he's grateful you’ve reached his front door now as his mind settles.

“Oh my god who’s this?” You coo as you step into his apartment, crouching down towards the white stone floors to pet the fluffy gray cat that greeted you, enjoying the way it purred and rubbed against your knee.

“That's Yuri, the queen of the house.” He steps away from you, setting the plastic bag on top of the kitchen counter a few feet away, his hands pulling out the containers and setting them down. “Don’t give her too much attention or she’ll never let you leave.”

Yuri glances up at you, her bright green eyes peering up innocently at Yoongi’s words, almost as if she was pleading for you to keep petting her. It doesn’t take much convincing for you to scoop your hands under her and press her against your chest as you stand up, your fingers gently scratching the top of her head. Yoongi lets out a sigh when he sees his cat has succeeded in wrapping you around her finger.

“Sorry, she’s too cute to not cuddle with.”

She nuzzles into your chest, purring in appreciation when your fingers trail down onto her spine. Yoongi watches you as he pops open the lid of the container that holds the noodles. Yuri is his baby, yet every time a new person comes into his place she acts like he doesn’t exist— well not until he pops open the container holding the sweet and sour pork. That's when her head pops up, her green eyes sharpening when she spots the food, and Yoongi glares back at the fluffy traitor.

When Yuri's fluffy body shakes slightly as you laugh Yoongi glances back at you, breaking up the staring contest he had going with his cat. “She’s gonna betray your love right now for some pork.” 

You don’t doubt him, not with the way her paws start to push at your arms, attempting to stand up in your embrace until she’s hopping off from your arms and slowly walking towards Yoongi. She’s absolutely shameless as she rubs her body against his legs, and Yoongi can only look down at her before staring back up at you, gesturing out with his hands. “You see?”

The act of betrayal doesn’t sting, not when she’s as cute as she is. Instead you just chuckle, walking towards the stools Yoongi has by the oversized kitchen island, a breakfast bar set up at the end, the food spread out on top of it. He ignores Yuri for the time being, pulling out the stool beside yours and sliding into it. The both of you pull your chopsticks apart and get to eating instantly, swirling the noodles until they’re evenly coated in the sauce.

You try to ignore the way Yoongi blatantly stares at you as you bring up the first clump of noodles, waiting to see what your initial reaction would be to the food he held so near and dear to his heart. Yoongi knows this could go south so quickly, there is nothing worse than trying something new when you’re starving and having it absolutely suck. Sensing his nerves, you slurp the noodles up, and when the salty taste hits your tongue you hum, chewing them thoughtfully to make a show for Yoongi.

“Verdict?”

He waits patiently for you to swallow, sharp eyes analyzing your expression, seeing you lick your lips and grin at him. “You weren’t lying, definitely some of the best jajangmyeon I’ve had.”

In pure dramatics, he practically sags in his seat and raises a fist into the air in success, being able to properly enjoy his food now that he knew you approved of it. The two of you begin to eat in relative silence, the sound of munching and slurping filling up his kitchen space. 

As the minutes go by, the back and forth of your chopsticks plucking out a dumpling after he did, lands with you snatching the last one. An evil cackle leaving you as you pop it into your mouth and grin at him, cheeks puffed out slightly and he can’t find it in himself to be irked at you snatching the last dumpling when you looked like that.

The compromise of that is you leaving the remaining pieces of pork for him to enjoy, and when Yuri gracefully hops onto the counter you see why he had suggested that. He grasps a tiny piece of pork on his chopsticks and feeds her like a parent would a toddler, airplane noise and all until Yuri opens wide and gently clamps down on the meat.

“She’s spoiled because of you.”

He merely shrugs, a giant smile spreading across his face as he watches her with adoration as she chews the food. “I refuse to confirm or deny that.”

As you finish up the last of your food you just watch on as Yoongi alternates between feeding himself and Yuri until no more pork remains. Seeing the soft way he acts with his cat just warms you up, Yoongi had always seemed like a blunt person from the times you’ve seen him at the store, his sense of humor is one that could easily be taken as harsh or cold if you didn’t match it, but you’d never expect to see him this way. The tops of his cheeks push out as he smiles at his cat, cupping her face between his hands and rocking it back and forth before planting a kiss on her forehead.

She seems to understand that that's her cue to hop off the counter, knowing that snack time is now over as Yoongi starts to clean up the empty containers. When you reach to clean your own mess up he’s quick to slap your hands away, smirking when you retract them with a small wince, your fingers rubbing the back of your palm that he had swatted with a pair of chopsticks.

“Shoo.” He waves his arm in the direction of his couch, not giving you another glance and missing the way you pout at how he had dismissed you like he would his cat.

With a huff you turn on your heel, properly taking in his living room. From the small tidbits of half truthful information that Taehyung had provided you with, you knew Yoongi was somebody in the music industry. You had always assumed that when people said that it meant struggling soundcloud rapper or something of the sort, but from the look of his apartment alone it was very evident that Yoongi was not a struggling soundcloud rapper. 

The wall of his living room was lined with floor to ceiling windows, letting you catch a glimpse of the cityscape down below, the darkening horizon and slowly flickering street lights blending together. A dark grey couch was on the wall adjacent to that, directly facing the entertainment center he had set up, complete with a massive mounted television and soundbar, a collection of DVDs organized in the storage unit below it.

You walk closer to it, catching sight of the picture frames he had displayed along the top of it. They were all simple black frames, all differing in size, all of them having photos of Yoongi and his friends on them. The one in particular that had you smiling was a photo booth picture with Yoongi and Namjoon, they were accompanied by three other people, a boy with slightly red tinged hair and a bright smile, another boy with dark brown hair and a slight pout on his face from Namjoon squishing his cheeks, and a girl with light brown hair smiling widely as Yoongi gave her bunny ears.

Namjoon was a very smiley person, never needing a reason to be, but seeing Yoongi sporting a massive gummy smile had you realizing how nicely a smile suited him. It was clear that he held this group of people near to his heart considering they all occupied the remaining photos as well.

A couple of steps right beside that was where he had his prized possession, his record player that he had fully customized to get him the desired sound he was looking for. It was a sleek black, accents of silver shining off of it, resting pretty on a dark stained wooden stand. A few of his records were stored beneath it, but what really caught your eye was the eight by eight makeshift gallery wall that showcased his current favorite LP’s, each individually shelved to show the album art in all its glory.

“Should I give this a listen with you here?”

His question has you turning your head towards him, cutting your admiration of the album covers short. He stood a few feet away, his hands holding up the orange cover of the album he had bought today with your suggestion, and a small sense of nerves bubbles up in your stomach for some reason. You had always suggested music, confident in your choices when you were in the safety of the record store, but having to witness his first impression made you a little uneasy. What if he hated the band entirely, or worse, what if he pretended he didn’t hate them just to soothe your ego.

Is this what he felt like watching you take your first bite of food earlier?

“Sure,” you choke out, taking a giant step back from his record player, hearing him chuckle at your odd behavior.

As he lifts the cover up and slides the giant record out of its sleeve you decide to go sit on the couch, sinking into the plush material and welcoming Yuri into your lap when she jumps on as well.

With a few clicks, the low whirring is heard of the turntable beginning to spin. And when he eases the needle onto the record a small crackle sounds before Get Away starts to play. He fiddles with the volume slightly until satisfied, only then does he turn back around and join you on the couch.

His face is settled in thought, bobbing his head gently to the beat as he rests back against the couch, sinking into it with a groan until he’s fully comfortable, legs spread out with one arm resting casually on his lap and the other on the arm rest, fingers tapping along.

You watch on in silence, your fingers raking through Yuri’s fur until her purring calms your nerves and you’re sagging back. Before you know it your eyes shut as you listen along to the music, your belly is full and your limbs are sore from the unpacking and rearranging that had to be done at work so being able to sit here and shut your brain off while mellow music filled the room was what you needed.

Before long the A side is finished playing, Yoongi having to get up to flip it over until the B side plays all the way through, the ending voicemail of Palace/Curse playing until it fizzles out entirely, the room falling into silence once more.

Yuri had gotten comfortable herself, sprawled out across your lap with her head by your hip, but when Yoongi gets up with a stretch her head pops up, eyes narrowing at her owner until she senses no threat and lays back down.

“Verdict?” You repeat his earlier question, seeing him hunched over with his elbows resting on his knees, his lips pursed in thought.

“Honest opinion?”

“Brutally honest.”

He hums with a sly grin as he turns his head to face you. “They’re good. Kinda makes me feel nostalgic too for some reason. But as a whole, it's great music that calms you down.”

With the way you’re laying practically boneless on his couch you can attest to that, they were definitely a band you listened to to unwind. He catches the wide smile spreading across your face as he stands back up to properly store the record, your smile only getting bigger when you see him replace one of the displayed albums on the wall with the new one. 

“It's going on the wall of favorites,” he announces, sliding the previous record back into the storage underneath.

“I’m honored.”

He steps back from the wall with his hands on his hips, admiring how the orange of the album pops out against the others. Yoongi very rarely switched these albums out, but he had a feeling this wall would eventually become full of the random albums you’d recommend to him.

“Quick question,” he starts as he turns back to face you, taking in the sight of you and his cat cuddling together. “It’s been sitting at the back of my mind, and Taehyung has given me like three different answers.”

A small laugh leaves you as you raise your eyebrow at him in question. “Sure, what is it?”

“Where did you move from?”

You stretch your legs out in front of you, your toes just barely reaching the coffee table he has set up a bit away from the couch, Yuri mimicking your actions and stretching out as well. You were definitely gonna grow as attached to her as you were to your roommate’s cat.

“Like where was I last before this, or where am I actually from?”

He walks towards his fridge, still being able to see and hear you due to the open layout of his place. “Both I guess.” The door pops open and he reaches for a bottle of water.“You thirsty?”

“You have some wine, or some beer?”

Yoongi grunts at that, shaking his head slightly, “Sorry, I don’t drink anymore but I’ve got water and juice.”

You’re sitting up straighter now, voicing out that the water was fine. “Where I’m from is classified information, you’ll have to level up on our friendship for me to tell you that.” You accept the water he hands you, smiling at him as he sits back on the couch. He was fine with your secrecy, taking whatever you feel comfortable telling him. “But I was in Madrid before I came here.”

“Oh? Did you leave where you’re from to go live there?”

Your fingers capture Yuri’s paw, squishing her toe beans as she gently swats at your hair. “No, I was in Amsterdam before that, and Berlin before that as well to name a few. I’ve been bouncing around since I was 20, so about 6 years now.”

He has a look of interest on his face as he sips the water, leaning onto the couch sideways to face you. “Do you ever want to go back to those places?”

“Like visiting the place more than once?”

He nods, his eyes focusing on Yuri’s fluffy body, seeing her sitting back up to hop onto the ledge of the couch, rubbing her body against the back of your head before settling on the backrest of it and getting comfy.

“Hm, not sure. I can’t see myself wanting to flip back the pages of my life to reread a story I already know the outcome to.” With a sigh you shrug at him, your fingers now tracing the material of the couch. “Maybe in the future, years from now, I’ll crave a specific memory and want to go back, but it hasn’t happened yet.”

The amount of new cities and countries you’ve been lucky enough to call home for any amount of time held a special place inside of you, the memories and stories you had because of those experiences helped shape you into the person you are. Sure not all of them were movie-like experiences, some close calls happening at a few places that made you question whether you made the right choice living your life the way you did. But then you’d have moments that just felt right, and right now, sitting on this couch with Yoongi, this was one of those moments.

“So you don’t plan on staying here forever?”

“Well what do you mean by forever?”

He smiles, not thinking he would have to explain what forever meant to him. “For the rest of your life. Is there another version of forever Y/N?”

“Shut up,” you laugh. “It’s not likely, but who's to say. I never move somewhere with a time frame of how long I plan on staying.”

“How do you decide? Sorry if I’m prying but I just can’t imagine that moving somewhere new would be easy. Picturing having to leave friends behind would probably wound me.” 

That was true, that was definitely the hardest part of doing this— emotionally at least. The people you met and befriended were a factor in deciding how long you’d stay somewhere. After the initial week of exploring a new place, it gets lonely. You’ve been to places where even the roommates you’d stay with weren’t friendly, and you’d have to take it a step further and search for friendships elsewhere. It was the main reason you had learned to not be timid when it came to making the first move.

“It’s kind of a gut feeling. The longest place I’ve lived in was Paris for two years.” A smile spreads across your face as you recall the two years you spent in that city, how you probably would’ve left after a few weeks if you hadn’t ran into that cute boy right before the club you were in shut down for the night. That experience alone was one of the main reasons you made it a conscious decision to not fall in love, not wanting to experience the inevitable heartbreak that came with it. 

Paris was the first place you moved to, jumping head first into adventure and taking everything that came with it, including romance. Leaving friends behind had been hard, but leaving Park Jimin behind had been a different version of painful.

“Before this I was in Madrid for a month. I found myself getting comfortable too fast and when I get comfortable I get bored. When it's no longer new and exciting I don’t see the point of staying anymore.”

Yoongi absolutely can not see the logic in the way you live, the carefree aura radiating off of you, but he weirdly craves it. He craves the feeling of not being afraid of not knowing what's coming, being able to just let the cards fall wherever they land. His entire life had changed in the last few years and was now built off routine, bullet point to-do lists and deadlines he had to meet. The only adventure he experiences anymore is thanks to his friends, luring him out of his apartment to fulfil any of their spur of the moment ideas, but nothing comes close to this. 

He’s not able to understand how you can be suspended in freefall for the majority of your life, and instead of panicking about your lack of parachute, you’re admiring the view.

“Do you plan on staying here forever?”

That question makes him freeze a little, he had been prying into your life no problem but now that a question was directed at him, he felt himself growing uneasy. “I guess I did.”

“Did...why past tense?”

You see the way he hesitates, his mind is already playing through all the scenarios that can come because of this but he decides to just bite the bullet. “Love makes you think of forever. I pictured forever with my fiance.”

At the mention of a fiance your mind thinks of the girl in the photos with Yoongi, the girl with the bright smile and wide eyes.

Was Yoongi a married man?

He can spot the way you process his vague information, knowing he should elaborate before you think anything else, before your eyes move to his ring finger only to find it bare. “When you’re with someone for almost 8 years its normal to think of forever you know.”

The flashes of his relationship play in his mind, meeting his fiance in his last year of high school. How they had pulled each other out of their shells, becoming rather chaotic in their adventures over the years, turning into adults and supporting each other in every aspect of life.

The memory of Yoongi proposing to her still feels fresh in his mind, taking her to Jeju island since it was a place she had always wanted to visit, not being able to due to caring for her family.

“We were actually planning our wedding, having invitations sent out with everything nearly ready but she uh–“ he stops to breathe slightly, his eyes moving to stare at the picture frames, proving your assumption of the girl being his fiance right. “She got into an accident.”

He hadn’t specified if she died or not, but that faraway look in his eyes spelled it out for you. Forever didn’t have any sympathy for his situation, but he just shrugs it off, forcing himself to not speak further on it. There was more that tied in to the tragic passing of his fiance but he felt he had overshared enough already, not wanting to make you uncomfortable by unloading this information on you. The last thing he needed was to turn this nice day into a pity party with him being the center of attention. 

He’s just waiting for the routine apologetic words that would fall from your mouth—maybe you’d reach over and rub his arm like some people did, tell him how sad it was as if he didn’t already know. Some half assed attempt to make him feel better even though you were clearly blind sided by the topic. 

Yoongi didn’t want that, always hating the way people would stare at him like he was some charity case. This was why he rarely chose to stray from his circle of comfort, from the people that knew the baggage that came with him and accepted him, keeping his group as tight knit as possible in order to not pick at scabbed over wounds. 

When you sigh, he braces for it, mentally accepting that this might be what ends your new formed friendship before you could really creep through the cracks in the wall he built. But instead you reach forward and grasp Yuri once more, scooping her up and bringing her to your chest like a baby. “So Yuri wasn’t the only queen of the house, is that it?”

Yuri purrs in confirmation and Yoongi turns to stare at you again, blinking the wetness away from his eyes before he could even call them tears. You had a smile on your face as you stared at him, not that typical sympathetic smile people always sent his way, it was a genuine one, letting him know he was free to talk more on the subject if he needed to.

And for the first time Yoongi acknowledges that maybe he did need to. He was so used to bottling his emotions in, shutting himself off after her passing, pushing all of his friends and family away and locking himself at home as he mourned, submerging himself in his work to numb himself from feeling anything. Even now, his friends never pried, let him handle his feelings any way he wanted to. But Yoongi can’t act like his chest aches from keeping it all in, the pressure slowly releasing even with the minimal information he had given you. 

“Yeah,” he sighs out in relief, reaching out to pet Yuri. “Hani was the queen before Yuri got promoted.”

As you coo at his cat he feels himself sagging back onto the couch. The small dam of emotions he had inside finally released, and before you know it he’s spilling everything out, telling you tidbit stories of him and Hani, and somehow easing you into sharing similar stories of you and Jimin. 

The sun fully sets through the windows, neither of you noticing as you talk well into the night, and Yoongi found himself laughing and smiling at the mention of Hani for the first time in two years. You urge him on, watching on with interest while he talks about the day they had picked up Yuri from the shelter. 

His eyes are crinkled up in that endearing way you had seen more of today than in the past weeks of knowing him, and it fills you with warmth to know he’s allowing you to know about this part of his life. It felt like sacred information, uncharted territory from the way he had hesitated in the beginning, almost like he wasn’t sure if he could trust you with the precious memories he held tightly. All he needed was a gentle nudge and a genuine smile to slowly let you flip the pages of his brain, knowing you wouldn’t judge the bleeding ink and scratched out words that came with each story. 

As he stares at the way you smile at him, he comes to the realization that your sneaky ass must have already managed to slip past the cracks of the walls he built, infiltrating the tight knit circle he had for himself. He has to hold in a laugh when he recalls the way Taehyung had seriously suggested that you might be a spy sent here from another country. Maybe he was onto something, because he was refusing to accept that his willingness to overshare and stray from his norm was due to anything but your highly trained interrogation skills. 

You clearly had his cat fooled as well. When Yuri leans up and nuzzles her face against yours he sighs, knowing she had claimed you as her favorite solely based on the attention you gave her. You were good. Yoongi guesses he would have to keep you around now, just for the sake of his cat, nothing more.