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dollfaceksj · 1 year ago

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reminder | jjk (m) pt. 3

➥ PAIRING: jungkook x fem!reader

➥ SUMMARY: Whenever he flies back into town, your doorbell is the first he rings. When he has to fly out again, your bed is the last he lies in. However, you’re not stupid. You know your ex-boyfriend, that also happens to be an up-and-coming professional boxer, Jeon Jungkook, doesn’t come to you only. Unfortunately, you have no right to be jealous, not when you’re the one that ended the relationship.

➥ GENRE: angst ⋆ smut ⋆ bit of fluff ⋆ exes with benefits

➥ CATEGORY: three-shot

➥ WARNINGS: explicit sexual content, lots of arguing, angst so much angst, toxicity, strong language, jealous!jk, possessive!jk, reader gets a taste of her own medicine, slightly aggressive jk (not @ reader dw), cockblocker!yoongi, hater!yoongi, mean!yoongi, yoongi just cares about jungkook okay, another bts member cameo and he’s the only normal person in this frfr, a bit of jungkook pov, quick forgiveness bc they love each other so much guys like theyre such losers omg, mentions of.. THE NECKLACE… sorry in advance, oral sex (m. rec), unprotected sex (dont be dumb), rough love making, make-up sex, shirtless ck jk because why not…, kinda subby!jk for a moment… :D, creampie, mentions of edging, mentions of overstimulation, teasing, imo both reader and jk are extremely dumb in this tbh, minors DNI

➥ WORDCOUNT: 12.5k

a/n: ah. its the final part. i wanna take the time to thank you guys for loving this three-shot! the love reminder has received really did have me considering making it into a series (i really did) but honestly i think it’s best to keep it a three-shot. HOWEVER: i wanna write a lot of drabbles for it so look out for those!

a/n 2: ignore any mistakes u see or you are cloverphobic. not betaread.

⋆ TAGLIST ⋆

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The distant thud of a car door slamming shut makes Jungkook jerk awake in his car. With a hiss, he slurps up the drool that had trickled down his chin from being knocked out and he shoots upright in his seat. He’s jetlagged as hell after flying out from Australia but he still insisted on seeing you first.

Unfortunately, when he knocked at your front door around 12AM, you weren’t home. Being his stubborn self, he decided to wait for your arrival in his car. He dropped Yoongi off at home and returned, parked in front of your door and waited.

But the sound of that car door slamming shut has pulled him out of his slumber. He looks out of the car window on his side, and there you are in the distance, dolled up and searching for your house keys in your clutch as you make your way to the front door.

Wearing a tight dress, hair did exactly the way you know Jungkook likes and from this angle he can’t see your face but without a doubt, he knows you’re absolutely gorgeous.

He takes his phone out of his pocket to check the time and the numbers on his lockscreen – which is a picture of his hand holding yours – tell him it’s 4:08AM. He’d been here for hours but all of it felt like minutes when he finally set his eyes on you again.

Right as he’s about to get out of his car, the figure of another person walks around the car you had just gotten out of. With a squint in his eyes, Jungkook tries to figure out who’s walking up to you right now.

A man, not much older than himself, holds you by your arm as he leads you to your front door. A frown creeps onto his brows when you don’t seem to have a reaction to this man touching you.

Jungkook watches as you keep digging into your purse, seemingly searching for your keys but that doesn’t matter to him anymore.

With a scowl on his pretty face, he silently gets out of his car and sneaks up on the both of you. He makes sure not to make any noise as he stands directly behind the unfamiliar man. Jungkook tilts his head to the side as he says, “She can handle the rest from here.”

He watches with a stern look in his eyes as you and the man slightly jump from the sudden interruption. Your head snaps in his direction and so does the man’s head next to you.

Jungkook can see the horror in your eyes as you come to the realization that it’s none other than Jeon Jungkook standing right next to you.

You’re staring at him like he’s grown a second head, Jungkook’s eyes trail your face and scan your features, committing it all to memory. Pupils dilated, a thin layer of sweat coating your forehead, lips swollen, remnants of lipstick smudged across your chin.

“Who’s this?” the unknown man asks you after the deafening silence that had settled around the three of you, a raise to his eyebrow as he turns his head to look at you.

You quickly compose yourself and clear your throat to speak but before you can answer, Jungkook butts in. “I’m Jungkook,” he says, cockily.

The man slowly nods to Jungkook’s introduction and opens his mouth to respond with his own name as he says, “Hoseok.”

Jungkook nods again after puffing out his chest with an air of arrogance and replying, “Nice to meet you, Hoseok. It’s awfully late, though. You should go home.”

Hoseok turns to look at you with a confused yet concerned look in his eyes, checking with you to see if it’s okay to leave you with this man named Jungkook.

You let a soft sigh push past your lips and give him a nod of reassurance. You place your hand on Hoseok’s bicep to wordlessly tell him it’s okay but he doesn’t look convinced. That’s when you say, “It’s fine, Hobi. Thank you for helping me get home. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Jungkook’s eye twitches at not only the nickname but at the fact that you’ve seemingly agreed to meet up with this man tomorrow. His gaze drops to your hand on Hoseok’s bicep and he rolls his eyes, fighting the urge to flex his own arms but quickly realizing how stupid he’s being.

Hoseok nods once he sees the sincere look in your eyes and slowly starts walking backwards whilst staring Jungkook down. Jungkook isn’t backing down, though, staring back head-on. Hoseok clicks his tongue and finally spins on his heels, making his way back to his car. He looks back one more time.

Jungkook hasn’t budged from where he was staring Hoseok down and Hoseok glances at you one last time before getting into his car and driving off.

Jungkook glares at the retreating vehicle until it has literally disappeared down the street.

With a frown on his face he turns to you but you avoid his gaze as you turn your keys in the keyhole, unlocking the door to your home. You don’t even hold the door open for Jungkook as you walk in, heels clicking against the tiles as you kick them off and make your way to your living room.

You toss your purse at the couch, watching as it tumbles to the ground with a loud clatter, spilling all its contents but you don’t seem to care as you turn to look at him once he closes the door behind him, in the midst of kicking his own shoes off.

“Why the hell are you here, Jungkook?”

His brows pinch together at your words, the urge to nibble on his bottom lip starting to creep up his spine. “What do you mean, why am I here?”

You stare at him for a moment longer with frustrated eyes and your lips pressed into a thin line, watching his every move but he isn’t budging an inch.

You shake your head as you start walking away from him but he quickly stops you, hand wrapping around your bicep as he tugs you back. “Y/N, speak.”

You glance down at his inked hand wrapped around your bicep and try to wiggle it out of his grasp but he doesn’t let you.

You scoff, “Seriously? I don’t fucking hear from you the entire two months you were in Australia and you have the nerve to come back and act like nothing has happened?”

Record scratch.

Jungkook can hear the cry threatening to spill from your throat and it stings him as bad as when he was punched in the mouth a week ago during a sparring match.

He’s usually gone for a week or two, never longer than that. Not only has he been gone for two months, he didn’t contact you at all while he was away.

He shakes his head, tugging you even closer to him. “You never hear from me when I’m gone, I always come back like nothing has happened! Why are you suddenly acting like it’s a big deal? We’ve been doing this for two years.”

You press your hands into his chest in an attempt to push him off but there’s no real strength behind it. “Because this time, it’s not the same!”

He quickly takes notice to your quickened breathing and the hurt in your eyes but he doesn’t comment on them and decides to stand his ground and defend his actions. “How is it not the same?”

The look of disbelief you give him has his heartbeat stuttering in its rhythm and his throat tightening as it starts drying out.

“Don’t act dumb, Jungkook,” you say, adding more strength behind your push against his chest.

He doesn’t budge nor respond, instead, he continues to stare you down with eyes that flicker with uncertainty and desperation.

You shake your head in disbelief again at his lack of response. “Last time was different. You know it was.”

Again, he has no rebuttal because he knows. He knows it was.

But Jungkook was scared. Terrified, even.

Before he reminds himself of how he’s felt the past two months, he changes the topic. “Who was that?” is all he asks.

Your brows pinch together as your eyes scan his face, dropping to his lips and catching the way he wets them with his tongue, a substitute for chewing on them. “What?” you ask him in confusion.

“Hoseok,” he pauses. “Who is he?” he asks, the face of the unfamiliar man flashing in his mind makes his blood boil all over again, fingers adjusting around your bicep to make sure you don’t slip from his grasp.

You can’t believe he’s deterring the conversation to this, apparent by the raise in your brows and the change in your pitch. “Are you serious?”

“Answer the fucking question, Y/N.” He closes the distance between you two, menacingly towering over you as he stares you down with his onyx eyes.

You huff in frustration and with a shake of your head, you reply, “He’s my friend.”

Jungkook nods to your words in mockery and then reaches up with his other hand, wetting his thumb with his tongue to wipe your chin clean of the makeup. “Friends follow you to your front door at 4AM with the same lipstick on their face that’s smudged across your chin?”

“Oh,” you begin with your eyes narrowed, “don’t you fucking start.” You wiggle your arm out of his grasp and this time he lets you, allowing you to make your way towards your bedroom. His presence is in your wake, following close behind you.

He ignores your words and as soon as the both of you enter your once-shared bedroom, he asks, “Did you fuck him?”

You groan, “No, Jungkook. I didn’t fuck him.” You start taking your jewelry off as you continue, “But friends do share New Year’s kisses.” You fully turn your back to him, tucking away your jewelry in their rightful place. “You didn’t even fucking wish me happy holidays.”

He sighs in exasperation, staring at the ceiling. He knows the fact that it’s New Years is why you’re dolled up, why you’re dressed like this, why you came home this late.

But that doesn’t make him hate it any less.

With a shake of his head, he says, “You know how busy I am, Y/N. There’s nothing more I would’ve wanted than to be here with you, you know that.” His tone has softened and he’s closing the gap between you two but he stops dead in his tracks when your head snaps in his direction.

“I’m not asking you to be here while you can’t. I know you can’t. I’m asking for at least a phone call.” You reach for the zipper on your dress right under your armpit, tugging it down to your hip. “Not even a text, are you fucking kidding me?”

He loudly exhales again, shaking his head as he throws it back and his gaze shifts up to the ceiling, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallows down what he really wants to say.

You bitterly chuckle as you eye the short distance between the two of you – he’s standing about two meters away. “Bet you had enough time for other people.”

Your accusating words make his eyebrows twitch and so, his response is immediate. “I didn’t fuck anyone.”

“Aht,” you say as you hold your hand up. “Don’t you fucking bullshit me,” you add, pointing an accusatory finger at him.

He shakes his head in disbelief, face turning to the side as his eyes shift to the wall on his left. He glares at the wall for a while, his hands on his hips and his bottom lip trapped between his teeth.

Then, he says, “Is he the one?”

Jungkook can tell by the way you sigh in exasperation that you’re fighting the urge to start yanking on your own hair.

“The one what?” you groan in annoyance as you start tugging your dress down your body, exposing your body in a matching underwear set and letting the dress pool at your feet before reaching for your bathrobe.

He rubs his face harshly as he adds, “The one you fucked.”

He’s still not looking at you but by your tone and heavened breathing, he knows you probably look like you want to bend over and scream until your vocal chords burst.

“I told you, I didn’t fuck–”

He immediately cuts you off. “I’m not talking about today. I’m talking about what you told me in the shower before I left for Australia,” he says. Then he repeats, “Did you fuck him?”

At that, you go quiet.

He closes his eyes at the silence, jaw clenching as you fidget with the ropes of your bathrobe and his own throat tightens at how you go speechless. You glance up at him with big eyes and a tremble in your chin.

At your lack of response, Jungkook finally looks at you, eyes dropping to your mouth, not missing the quiver in your pretty lips. “It’s him, isn’t it?”

You shrug your shoulders and finally find your voice after what seems like ages. “Does it matter?”

“Yes, it matters.” He stomps the rest of the way over to you, menacingly towering over you. He adds, “I’m not buddy-buddy with the people I fuck.”

You tilt your chin to look up at him, brows knitted together and a scowl forming on your face. “Drop it, Jungkook,” you mumble, tying the bathrobe around your waist.

He closes whatever small distance is still in between you, his body pressed up against your arm before he leans down to directly say the next words into your ear, “Was he good? Did he fuck you good? Did he do the thing you like?”

You move your arm up, pressing your elbow against his chest in an attempt to push him off but he doesn’t budge an inch. “Stop it,” you warn.

He clicks his tongue and kisses his teeth with a loud smack, still not backing away from you. “Not so fun to be on the receiving end of that, is it?”

He’s right. You’ve been pestering him like that for years, always bringing up his sex life with other people to provoke him, to annoy him, out of your own selfishness. Why can’t he return the energy? Put you in that situation? Give you a taste of your own medicine?

You click your tongue in annoyance not only with him but yourself. Teasing him all those times has come back to directly bite you in the ass.

“Shut up, seriously.” You bump your shoulder into his as you make your way to the bathroom but he doesn’t let you get away that easily.

“Were you together? Or was it casual?” He follows close behind you as he continues to pester you.

“Jungkook.”

He doesn’t care about the warning tone in your voice or the scowl on your face. “I just wanna know. I wanna know if he knows I fucked you all those times too.”

You don’t even respond as you start taking your makeup off, ignoring Jungkook’s gaze through the reflection. He’s leaning against the doorframe, cockily staring at you through the mirror and you do your best to ignore him.

When it’s been quiet too long for his liking, he says, “Does he know you’ll always let me do whatever I want to you?” He begins to walk closer, closing the distance between you two until his chest is pressed up against your back and continues to menacingly stare at you through the mirror. “That you’ll never forget about me?”

You slam your makeup wipes down onto the sink with a loud thud, turning to face him. He’s completely pressed up against you at this point, caging you in between the sink and his own body.

You don’t even know what to say because that’s exactly how you’d talk to him ever since the break-up. You tilt your chin to look up at him. “Stop.”

He scoffs as he stares you down with intense eyes. He kisses his teeth with a loud smack and says, “Yeah, not so fun, is it?”

You ignore his provocations like he did yours all those times and move your elbows up to his chest, pushing past him to walk back into your room. Jungkook is aware that you’re constantly creating extra space between the two of you because his proximity will have you bending to his will.

He stays back this time, just quietly watching as you get ready for bed. He can’t ignore the sinking heart in his chest as your bottom lip quivers and your breath has gotten shaky, he can never be mean to you for long and he knows that.

He deeply sighs and shakes his head at his own antics. “Come here,” he mumbles as he makes his way to you.

You don’t respond, you just keep your back turned to him as you prepare your pillows and sheets.

He quietly sighs to himself as he wraps his arms around you from the back, halting you in your movements.

He turns your body to make you face him, his big hands firmly on your hips. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said those things.” He leans into the crook of your neck and nudges your ear with the tip of his nose. “You drive me crazy and it’s making me act a fool.”

Your arms stay limp by your side, your way of telling him you’re still mad at him but you turn your face slightly to give him more access to your neck like you’ll always do.

“I fucking hate how much I love you,” he whispers into the crook of your neck, pressing a soft kiss to your collarbones, fingers digging through the fabric of your bathrobe to grip your hips tightly.

You sigh softly at the sensation of his lips on your skin again, your hands coming up to squeeze his biceps. “You’re an asshole.”

“I know, baby.” His voice is muffled by your neck but you feel the smile on his lips against your skin. “Didn’t like the taste of your own medicine?”

You grunt in response, pinching his biceps which makes him hiss and chuckle before pulling away from your neck to glance down at you.

“Will you let me kiss you?” he asks you, thumbs rubbing circles into your hipbones as his pretty black eyes roam your features.

“No,” you reply, moving your hands up to his chest and rubbing circles through his shirt.

His lips pucker up in a childish pout but he doesn’t push it any further, your proximity is enough for him.

“What’s the magic word?” you say.

His chest puffs as he chuckles, shaking his head. “Will you let me kiss you, please?”

You huff like a little kid that’s just finished throwing a tantrum but you nod your head to his question nonetheless, hands moving up to cup his cheeks.

His face closes in on yours and he presses his lips to your attention-seeking ones. He melts into your kiss, hands traveling up your sides to hold your waist tightly.

It’s been too long since he last saw you, so kissing you feels like a thousand years ago. He makes the most of it as he tightly holds onto your waist as if you don’t have breakable bones, as if you’ll slip through his fingers, as if you’ll disappear into thin air.

He slowly pulls back from your kiss. “I have something to show you,” he says as he reaches for something in his pocket. His phone seems to be in the way so he takes it out of his pocket and hands it to you so you can hold it while he searches for what he so desperately wants to show you.

You glance down at the screen as it automatically lights up and your eyes mindlessly drop down to the 3 hours old notifications.

[1:02AM]

René (AUS)

Are you still at the same hotel? Want me to come over?

[1:04AM]

René (AUS)

Missed call (1)

He watches your face twist into confusion and pain as his own eyes drop to where you’re looking at, the realization dawning on him like he got hit by a fucking train.

Jungkook’s body tenses up under your touch. His other hand drops from your hip and your eyes slowly trail to look up at him.

In a panic, he quickly says, “I swear, it’s not what you think. I swea–”

You don’t let him finish as you slam his phone into his chest and directly stare into his concerned eyes. “Fuck you.”

The way you say it with so much venom in your voice knocks the air directly out of Jungkook’s lungs.

He can hear an imaginary record scratch when you point toward your door and say, “Get out.”

Jungkook is stunned.

You have never made him leave.

You have never told him to just get out.

And for some reason, the ‘get out’ hurts even more than the vicious ‘fuck you’.

“Y/N–”

“Out.”

Jungkook shakes his head, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “Don’t make me leave. Please.”

You immediately reply, “I want you to leave. Right now.”

He stares at the wall for a few moments as he gathers his thoughts. You stare at his side profile for a few seconds before you spin on your heels and head towards your bed.

As you plop down on your bed, you’re just in time to watch Jungkook dig in the pocket of his sweatpants and roughly throw something across the room, aimed right at the wall to your right.

You flinch at the clatter of a small box being smashed against the wall and turn to look at him with a frown etched onto your features.

He has never shown you any aggressiveness ever so you’re shocked at the sudden switch. “What the hell, Jungkook?”

He tugs on his long black locks before he quietly curses and turns, loudly stomping out of your room. The shuffling of him putting his shoes on reaches your ears and before you know it, the front door has been slammed shut.

Your hand sits on your chest, right over where your pounding heart is. You’re not scared of Jungkook and never will be but there’s a reason you don’t go to his matches. You don’t like seeing the boy with the entire galaxy in his eyes be aggressive, be angry, be consumed by hate.

When you’ve finally composed yourself, you take a few breaths to steady your ragged breathing. You deeply exhale and get up from your bed, walking over to the mini box and its spilled contents.

The small blue box is on its side, wide open and something shiny is sprawled out next to it.

Small tear shaped sapphire earrings that would fit perfectly with your estranged necklace.

The words – which you recognize as Jungkook’s handwriting – on the neon pink post-it that’s stuck to the inside of the lid shatters your heart into a million pieces.

‘Be my girlfriend (again)? :)’

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[6:30PM]

Hobi

I’m outside ^_^

You smile at your phone and apply your lip gloss as your finishing touch. With a final glance in the mirror, you give yourself a smile and a nod before heading into the hall and sliding your feet into your pumps.

You leave your home after locking up and quickly make your way down to the vehicle in front of your home before hopping into Hobi’s car, leaning over to give him a greeting hug.

“Hey, you okay?” he asks as he leans back and starts accelerating after you’ve closed the car door.

“Yeah. You?” you say as you buckle your seatbelt and open up the interior mirror above your head to check your makeup again.

“I’m fine.” He slows down in front of a red light and glances over at you. “What was all that about?”

“What?” you ask, already knowing what he’s talking about as you continue to check your teeth and waterline, ignoring the persistent lump that’s forming in your throat.

“Yesterday.” He returns his gaze to the road in front of him. “Well, more like this morning.”

You sigh and close the mirror, slouching in your seat as you glance over at him. “I’m sorry about that, Hoseok.”

Even if Hoseok was just helping you get inside, you feel bad about sending him away like that.

A chuckle leaves his mouth. “I know you are, I just thought I was seconds away from being decked in the mouth.”

You look out the window, pressing your lips together in an attempt at blending your gloss with your peachy nude lip combo.

“I know. Jungkook is just,” you pause, rubbing the scrunch between your brows.

He accelerates once the light jumps to green. “Is he the boxer?”

You merely hum in response, picking at the loose flesh around your manicured nails.

“You love him, right?” Hoseok’s question knocks the air right out of your lungs. The lump that had started forming in your throat has lodged down your esophagus and has unleashed a stream of lava that causes your heart to burn.

Your lack of response makes him nod his head, his hand coming to his jaw and rubbing his freshly shaven chin.

“And he certainly didn’t seem happy to see me,” he chuckles as he recalls the events of this morning.

“Yeah, well.” You nonchalantly shrug your shoulders. “He can’t just show up at my front door after two months of not talking to me.”

“Two months?” he repeats, leaning his left elbow against the window next to him and rubbing his chin with his hand whilst his other hand manages the gear shift and steering wheel.

You nod and cross your arms over your shoulders, adjusting the belt that’s digging into your neck.

He asks, “What was he doing for two months?”

You explain the events that happened two months ago, from Jungkook showing up to you telling him for the first time (again) that you love him. You explain the entire history between you and Jungkook, all the problems, all the love, all the pain, everything.

Hoseok knew you were still head over heels in love with an ex-boyfriend that also happened to be a professional boxer but he never pried. However, as he witnessed that embarrassing moment firsthand, you’re of the opinion that you owe him an explanation.

“Hm.” He thinks about what you just told him for a few moments, seemingly in deep thought. Unfortunately, you know Hoseok well enough to know when he wants to say something.

You turn your head to look at him, chest already tightening at the thought of him not agreeing with you. “You’ve got something to say.”

He looks at you for a moment before glancing back at the road. “I’m not sure you want to hear it.”

The raise in your brows indicates intrigue and surprise at his words. “Well, now you have to say it.”

He chuckles at the switch in your tone and parks in the theater’s parking lot before turning to look at you again. “To me, it just seems like he didn’t want to suffocate you again.”

“Suffocate me? He’s not going to suffocate me by texting me once in two months, Hobi.”

“No, I get that, and he is incredibly stupid for that but it seems to me like he’s so scared of losing you again that he didn’t want to ruin anything?” he explains, his point of view being a reminder that not everything may be what it initially seems to you.

You furrow your brows and part your lips to argue but Hoseok cuts you off before you can.

“What did he say after I left? Did he seem different?”

You think about it for a while. Yes, he did seem different, now that you think about it.

And then you’re reminded of Jungkook’s gift and his question. And at that, a surge of guilt spreads through your chest and starts bubbling up your throat.

“He, uh,” you start as you clear your throat, “he just asked who you were. The usual ex-boyfriend stuff. But he did kind of ask me to be his girlfriend again.”

He unbuckles his seatbelt and then turns to you. “So, I take it y’all made up, then.”

You shake your head, avoiding his gaze as you open up the mirror again to check if there’s anything in between your teeth to pretend you don’t care. “I told him to leave.”

“Why?” His brows are pinched together in confusion and you can see him aiming his frown at you in your peripheral vision.

You shrug your shoulders nonchalantly again, hoping to appear unbothered. “I saw his phone, one of his groupies texted him. Just wasn’t in the mood.”

“Did he text them or did they text him?”

You slowly turn to look at him as a frown climbs its way onto your brows. “What?”

Hoseok stares at your for a few moments in silence before repeating his question, “Did he text them?”

You idly blink at him, the image of Jungkook’s face when he swore it wasn’t what it looked like flashing in your mind. Fuck.

You quickly compose yourself and say, “I don’t know.”

Hoseok blinks at you for a few times with a slight pinch in his brows before slowly nodding. “Okay.”

“You want to say something again,” you groan loudly, rubbing the scrunch on your forehead to prepare yourself for what he has to say now.

Surprisingly, he chooses not to. “I’m not going to this time.” A chuckle leaves his mouth after he says that, shaking his head in the process. “Let’s go, the movie is about to start.”

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Australia, 1 week ago

With a big gulp, Jungkook slams his glass down onto the wooden surface of the bar he’s sitting at. He winces at the burning liquid sliding down his esophagus, bringing his hand up to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand as he pulls his phone out of his pocket.

He stares at his lockscreen, a smile creeping on his lips at the picture. His eyes trail your fingers and your hand, how well they fit in his.

With a tilt of his phone, he unlocks it using Face ID and opens the message app. He scrolls until he sees your name, it’s been over a year since either of you last texted each other. Like mentioned before, he always comes back unannounced and you always act like nothing has happened.

It’s how it’s been for two damn years.

His fingers slowly start hovering over your contact name. Should he text you? Should he not?

He shouldn’t. You told him the two of you would talk about it when he’s back. Maybe he’d scare you off if he were to text you right now.

Besides, he’d be back in town in five days anyways.

Right as he locks his phone again, he’s dragged out of his thoughts when a hand squeezes his bicep.

He snaps his head in the person’s direction.

“You gonna keep acting like you don’t see me?” Ashley – an ‘acquaintance’ of Jungkook’s – says as she tucks a lock of her hair behind her ear.

(Read: acquaintance meaning a person he’d usually fuck if he was back in their country.)

“Oh,” he mumbles, his arm tensing up under her touch. Not to flex his arm but because he doesn’t want her touching him. “Ashley, right?”

“Hm,” she hums as she drops her hand from his arm, swiveling in her stool to face him, her knees pressed into the side of his thigh. “Doing anything tonight?”

He shakes his head as he continues to stare at the ice ball in his glass, his fingers fidgeting with the rim.

“Wanna do me?” she suggests, her feet making their way to rub up and down his calves in a teasing way.

He instantly regrets all the times he had her bent over his hotel couch, pounding into her from behind and kept his eyes shut to imagine he was fucking you.

He quietly exhales and rubs his eyes with the back of the knuckle of his index fingers as he looks for an excuse to reject her. “I don’t have any protection on me,” he mumbles, hoping she’ll get the hint.

Jungkook is responsible when it comes to his sex life. He’s quite literally always carrying protection. The only person he had ever fucked raw and would continue to do so are you.

So, these past two months he’d been walking around with nothing of the sort because he didn’t feel the need to. Now that there was that blossoming chance that he’d get back together with you, he’d wait for you.

He doesn’t want anyone else moaning his name, he doesn’t want to hold onto anyone else’s hips while pounding into them, he doesn’t want anyone but you.

“We could pass a nightshop on the way to my apartment,” she offers, her hand coming back to his bicep and sliding up his shoulder to his neck, the tips of her fingers playing with the ends of his hair.

The thought of anyone else touching him right now has goosebumps popping out of the upper layer of his skin and not in a good way.

“Let me use the restroom first,” he says as he gets up from his stool, subtly shrugging her hand off his neck in the meantime.

He looks her way for the first time since acknowledging her at the start and gives her the fakest smile he can muster. He walks around her and disappears in the sea of bodies that had started growing behind them.

He quietly makes his exit through a backdoor, standing in front of the building with his back to the door as it shuts loudly behind him. He tilts his head back and allows the infinite soft rain droplets to gently kiss his face and neck.

After a few more moments of enjoying the rain and distant booming music, he whistles at a taxi that he sees passing by and jogs toward it, hopping in the back before anyone else catches him.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

present

Damn Hoseok.

It just seems like he didn’t want to suffocate you again.

He’s so scared of losing you again that he didn’t want to ruin anything.

Did he text them?

Should you have heard him out?

You couldn’t even focus on that damn movie. Hoseok’s words and input kept clouding your mind, kept reminding you of maybe – just maybe – you were being unreasonable.

No, you’re not at fault for being upset that he didn’t say a word for two months.

You still think he’s an idiot for that.

Even if it’s been like that for the past two years. This time it was different and you’re not going to let anyone gaslight you into thinking it wasn’t.

But with how well you know his heart, his love, his passion for you, you should’ve known better. You don’t even know how long he’d been waiting in front of your door on New Years.

And there you were during New Years, opening up your front door with a man in your wake that had been in your (once Jungkook’s) bed.

You and Hoseok met at a party of a mutual friend one night and immediately hit it off. For the first time since Jungkook (about a year and a half after the break-up), you finally allowed yourself to let loose and do the thing Jungkook did to get his mind off of you.

You ended up having casual hook-ups with Hoseok, and goodness, was he amazing.

He fucked you good, touched you in the right places, said the right things, did everything right.

But he wasn’t him.

So, after about four months, you’d called it quits. Hoseok, being the amazing person he is, didn’t pry but insisted on staying friends and being there for you.

And that brings you back to the conversation you had with him in the car on your way to the movies.

He didn’t excuse Jungkook’s behavior but he made some good points, and damn him for that. Because now you can’t stop thinking about it. All of it. The worst being that Jungkook had planned to ask you to be his girlfriend again on New Years.

And thanks to all of that thinking, you find yourself in front of Min Yoongi’s front door a few days later.

Since you broke up with Jungkook, he never bothered to find a new place since he’s gone a lot. So, you assume he must be crashing at Yoongi’s when he’s not crashing at yours.

You raise your shaky fist and knock on the door.

A few seconds later, the sound of shuffling and keys jingling reach your ears and instantly sends a jolt of electricity up your spine. The door swings open and you make eye contact with his manager, his intense eyes make your heart almost implode within your ribs.

His frown at your presence almost stings. “What are you doing here?”

You look to the side as you swallow, hoping it helps you gather your courage. “Is Jungkook here?”

He scoffs, clearly unimpressed. “Why?”

“I need to talk to him.” You turn your head to look at him again, hoping you look as determined as you feel.

He dryly chuckles and shakes his head in disbelief. “So, you can kick him out at 4AM without hearing him out but he needs to hear you out because you’re the one that needs to talk now?”

You cross your arms over your chest to keep yourself from fidgeting and glance at the floor. “I want to apologize to him for that.”

“You want me to believe that?” He glances at his watch as if he’s unimpressed with your reasoning.

Gosh, why is he so stubborn?

Before you can even reply, he bitterly adds, “You need to quit playing with that boy’s feelings, Y/N.”

You finally look up at the older man, a quiver in your bottom lip and an imaginary bag of sand unleashing in your throat as your mouth dries out at his accusation. “I’m not playing with his feelings, Min,” you pause as you look away. “Please, just let me talk to him.”

“You can’t expect me to believe you came all the way out here just so you can apologize to him.” He slides his feet into his shoes, running a hand through his freshly cut hair.

He looks so nonchalant, as if what you’re saying is of absolutely no significance to him. The tightening in your chest tells you that you’re starting to lose your patience. “And why the fuck not?”

Yoongi’s eyebrows twitch as he takes a step closer to you, menacingly looming over you. You now know where Jungkook gets that from. “You could’ve texted him and he would come over in a heartbeat, you know that.”

“Let me stop you right there,” you say as you raise your hand, holding it up in front of his chest. “He’s not a fucking dog. I’m not going to text him so he can jump at every command. I know he would, which is why I took it upon myself to come here and personally apologize to him.”

Yoongi tilts his head to the side as he listens to your ramble, his arms crossed over his chest. You see the glimmer of something in his eyes but you can’t tell what it is, he’s always been too hard to read.

You drop your hand, wrapping it around the straps of the purse you’re holding in your sweaty palms to tug it over your shoulder. “So, will you let me?” you say after a few seconds of silence from Yoongi.

He narrows his eyes at you, still trying to read you and your intentions. But your sincerity is clear, evident by the fire in your eyes, your balled fists at your sides and the pinch in between your brows.

He takes a deep breath and steps aside to let you in. “Do what you want. I was about to leave anyway,” he mumbles as he slides his coat on and walks around you, heading out the front door.

He abruptly stops and turns to look at you one last time. “Don’t make him do anything stupid, Y/N. Or so, help me God.”

He stares you down as if he wants to obliterate you with a single blink of his eyes and with that, he leaves.

Jesus. What is his deal?

You clear your throat and compose yourself. You quietly close the door after he’s left, kicking your shoes off and make your way down the corridor, peeking into rooms until you find a door that’s shut. You try to open it but it’s locked so you quietly sigh before bringing your fist up and knocking softly on it.

“Can it wait ‘till tomorrow, hyung?” Jungkook’s groggy voice is muffled from behind the door.

Your chest tightens at his voice.

You shakily exhale as you drop your hand, your other hand still sitting on the door handle. “It’s me. Can we talk?”

Instant shuffling behind the closed door has butterflies eating your stomach from the inside out, your fingers tightly wrapped around the straps of your purse as you forcefully swallow down the bubble of panic that’s threatening to rush up your throat.

The door swings open and you’re met with bed hair, shirtless, sleepy Jungkook.

Your eyes drop down his figure but you quickly return them to his eyes, your lips pressed into a thin line.

His eyeballs are practically bulging out of his eye sockets at the sight of you here and his brows are dramatically pinched together but he quickly composes himself and shoves his hands into his pockets. “Why are you here?”

It stings, it does. You realize that asking him that day what he was doing at your place must’ve hurt this way. Burned this way. Stung this way.

“Jungkook,” you breathe out, your hands in front of your thighs with your fingers wrapped tightly around the straps of your purse as you swing it back and forth to distract yourself from the nerves creeping up on you.

He tilts his head to the side, parting his lips to answer your call but he closes his lips right away. The fact that he’s not replying is enough to have your heart stuttering in its rhythm, veins pulsating with fear. What if he tells you to get out like you did?

His silence makes you speak up and say, “I’m sorry.”

His expression doesn’t change but there’s a glint of surprise in his eyes. “For?”

“Everything.” Your reply is immediate.

He slowly crosses his arms over his chest. “You’re going to need to be more specific than that, Y/N,” he says with a stern tone in his voice that has your stomach twisting into a wringed out shirt.

You sigh as you watch him step backwards into the room again, leaving the door open for you, a wordless invitation.

He doesn’t even turn the light on, just goes back to sit on the bed but he reaches over to turn the flashlight of his phone on and turns his phone face down on the bed so it lights up some of the room.

You walk in and close the door behind you, looking around the room. You haven’t been here in a long time but not much has changed.

Your feet bring you to the foot of his bed, his eyes staring you down the entire time. “I’m sorry for sending you away and not hearing you out. I shouldn’t have done that.” You place your purse on his bed but stand in front of it still, anxiously fidgeting with the strap.

He continues to quietly stare at you which makes you continue, “I was,” you pause to sigh deeply, “I was upset because you didn’t talk to me.”

He exhales deeply and looks to the side, your eyes watching as his Adam’s apple bobs up and down. “You told me we’d talk about it when I was back.”

“I know I did but I thought I’d at least hear from you if it was going to last that long. I was waiting,” you explain, not missing the way Jungkook has nervously started nibbling on his bottom lip.

“I just thought that last time…” You shake your head as you continue, “I thought last time was different.”

He slowly nods as he returns the eye contact finally. “You’re right, it was,” he quietly says. “I’m sorry. I should have reached out. I was just scared you’d push me away again if I reached out to you just because you said–” he pauses as he glances at you and then turns his head to look away again, “those words. That you’d think I was too excited or something.”

Hoseok — a complete stranger to him — read Jungkook better than you. You should be fucking ashamed.

You gently rub your eyes to not mess up your eye makeup and then walk around the bed, moving to stand in front of him. He refuses to look at you, though, staring at his lap as if it’s playing a movie to him.

“Jungkook,” you start, “look at me.”

He slowly turns his head and tilts his chin to look up at you. If he notices the way your hand slightly hesitates before reaching out to him, he doesn’t show nor comment on it.

Your fingers delicately tuck his long black hair behind his ear, mindlessly playing with the shell of his ear.

“Will you hear me out this time?” he asks you, eyes twinkling with hope.

You shake your head. You don’t want to hear him out because he doesn’t owe you an explanation. “You don’t owe me anything, Jungkook. You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

He wraps his fingers around your wrist as your own fingers play with his locks. “I want to. Will you let me?”

Your chest deflates as you deeply exhale at his stubbornness. “Okay.”

He reaches for his phone that he left face turned down on his nightstand and hands it to you. He’s telling you to check his phone to prove his innocence.

You shake your head as you push his phone away, you’re not that kind of person. You’re aware you and Jungkook don’t have the healthiest relationship but snooping in each other’s phones is something neither of you ever felt the need to do.

However, Jungkook is determined. “Just look at it,” he pleads.

Your eyes shift downwards as you curiously glance at the screen. It’s a text conversation between him and someone.

René.

You realize he’s showing you the full text conversation that you read last time and there are no replies from Jungkook at all.

[1:04AM]

René (AUS)

Why didn’t you tell me you were back in Australia? We could’ve gotten together and hung out!! Let me know when you’re back x

[1:06AM]

René (AUS)

Missed call (2)

You rub the scrunch between your brows and take a deep breath as the reality of the situation dawns on you. His words play on a continuous loop in your head.

I didn’t fuck anyone.

Jungkook had never denied it before. He would usually be quiet if you’d imply he’d been with someone. And if you think about it, that wasn’t even the part that made you upset. It was not hearing from him at all.

You push his phone back toward his chest when the text messages have mockingly stared at you long enough. “I’m sorry, Kook. I was such an ass.”

You continue, “This doesn’t change anything, I’m still a prick for not considering your feelings.”

He looks up at you through his pretty lashes, teeth chewing on his bottom lip which has reddened from all that nibbling.

You mindlessly press your thumb into his chin to make him release his bottom lip as you conclude, “Even if you did do whatever I thought it was you were doing, you have every right to. You don’t owe me a goddamn thing.”

“Just stop.” He shakes his head. “Don’t say that.”

You sigh as he dismisses your statements, he’s going to keep dismissing them so there’s no point in pressing him about it. “Well, I’m sorry. Are we good?” you ask as you tuck another lock of his hair behind his ear.

A soft smile stretches onto his pretty lips, his eyes glimmering like he’s holding the entire galaxy in his gaze, which is you. “Of course we are,” he says, eyelashes fluttering at you and if it was any quieter, you could probably hear the blinking of his eyelids. “Did you come all the way out here to apologize?” he adds, his voice quiet and uncertain.

No, you didn’t.

You slowly nod, sliding your fingers to his earlobe and down his jaw, rubbing his chin with your thumb. “I did.”

He nods his head and you notice the scrunch in his nose for a split second, a habit he has when he becomes emotional. Becoming emotional is the last thing you need right now so you avert your gaze to your purse on his mattress. “When will I see you again?” he quietly asks.

“You know where I live,” you say, telling him he’s always welcome whenever he needs you. You drop your hand from his face and reach for your purse, slinging it over your shoulder as you head towards the door again. The sound of him following behind you reaches your ears, letting you know he at least wants to walk you out.

It’s a direct parallel of whenever you walk him out of your house.

However, you change your mind and decide that right now is the best time to respond to his unanswered question.

“Actually,” you say as you turn on your heels, “I came for one more thing.” You take his phone out of his hand to use his flashlight.

He halts in his steps behind you and raises his brows, eyes shifting to your hands as you pull out a box from your purse.

You hold it out to him, shaking it slightly when it takes him too long to take from your hands. A frown sits on his brows for a moment but he takes it into his hands nonetheless, opening it to look inside of it.

It’s your estranged necklace, the one he gave you three years ago.

He glances up at you, his pretty eyes once full of love and hope now full of hurt and despair. His misunderstanding squeezes your heart until you almost can’t breathe under his pained gaze.

“You’re giving this back to me?” he asks, voice so small and barely loud enough to be heard.

You shake your head. “I’m asking you to help put it on me.” You turn the flashlight around to aim it at your face, allowing him to finally see the tear-shaped sapphire earrings he got you hanging from your earlobes for the first time since you walked in.

It had been dark in the room so he never noticed you wearing them until this very moment.

His eyes jump from your right ear to your left, the reality of the situation dawning on him like a pile of bricks. The smile that suddenly stretches onto his lips singlehandedly glues all the pieces of your broken heart together again.

He can’t contain his wide smile, fingers scrambling as he takes it out of the box. He throws the unimportant box somewhere on his bed and unclasps the necklace, wrapping the chain around your neck from the front, never breaking eye contact with you as his fingers fasten the chain behind your neck. He adjusts the pretty necklace around your neck and reaches up to play with the earring in your right ear.

You can’t help but smile at his giddy reaction, your fingers coming up to fidget with the pendant.

His hand drops from your earlobe to his side, fingers pinching at the fabric of his swears. “Is this a yes?”

(Read: He’s referring to the question he wrote on the post-it note.)

You shrug your shoulders with a smug grin and add, “Clearly it’s not a no.”

A soft chuckle leaves his mouth as he shakes his head at your teasing. His hands reach out and hold your waist, pulling you closer to him and your heart jolts in between your lungs at his proximity. He nudges your nose with his and respectfully drops his hands to your hips.

“Will you let me kiss you?”

The two of you giggle when you realize you’ve both asked each other the same question in unison. You bring your hands up to cup his face and press your lips to his.

He pulls you closer, closing the distance between the two of you as he tilts his head. His hands squeeze your hips and you hum into the kiss, moving your hands behind his neck so you can wrap your arms around his neck.

You pull away slowly and move to cup his cheeks, rubbing the apple of his burning cheek with your thumb.

“Stay the night. We’ll talk some more in the morning,” he says carefully, hoping you’ll agree.

You tilt your head to the side as his offer reaches your ears, a thinking pout on your lips before you part them to say, “I don’t think Min Yoongi would appreciate me staying over. He hates my guts.”

He stares at you for a moment longer and then glances at the wall. He knows you’re right. “He doesn’t hate y–”

You cut him off. “Yes, he does.”

“He hates what I let the relationship do to me. It’s not anything against you.” He tries to reason but you can’t forget the way Yoongi looks at you like he wishes you would just disappear into thin air.

He must’ve noticed the uncertainty in your expression. “I’ll lock the door,” he adds as he nods over your shoulder at the door.

“What are we, teenagers?” you laugh, rubbing his chest to make him look at you and he does.

He kisses his teeth after being in deep thought. “Okay, then just stay for a little while.” He pulls you down onto his bed, making you let out a surprised yelp.

You fall on top of him, hands still on his chest. You glance down at him and he’s got a shit-eating grin on his lips. He whimpers when you bring your hand down to slap his chest before you roll off of him to take your jacket off.

You toss the article of clothing somewhere across the room and your attention is disrupted when he wraps his hand around your wrist to pull you down and back into his embrace.

He pulls your back flat into his chest, arm hooked around your waist and his lips pressed into the back of your neck. He inhales through his nose and presses a soft kiss to your shoulder blade.

“I missed you so much.” He leaves a trail of kisses from your shoulder to your neck, not paying any mind to the goosebumps that he’s awakening directly under the soft flesh of his lips.

You hum in response and let your eyes flutter close. “I haven’t had sex in months so if you don’t stop kissing me right now, I’ll ride you for three hours.”

He chuckles and pulls away to say, “Aren’t we moving too fast?”

You roll your eyes at his stupid joke as you wiggle out of his grasp and sit up, your gaze shifting to him next to you, eyes scanning his cocky face. “You fucked me for two years, Jungkook.”

“Still.” He rolls onto his back to be able to look at you better and moves his hands up to place the back of his head on top of his palms, allowing you to look at the clear outline of his biceps and triceps. He adds, “We just started dating, you horndog.”

“Right,” you say as you mockingly nod your head and get up from his bed, starting to head out of his room. “Guess I’ll just ask Hoseok.”

By the time the ruffling of his sheets have reached your ears, you haven’t even made it halfway through the room. Jungkook drags you back by your bicep, pulling you backwards into the room. You let out a quiet shriek when he spins you in one swift motion, hooks his hands around your thighs and lifts you onto the dresser.

He wedges himself in between your thighs, pulling you to the edge of the dresser and holding you tightly by your waist, fingers draped over your ribcage. “You just love exploring my limits, don’t you?”

You chuckle and reach up to tuck his beautiful hair behind his ears with both hands. “You’re hot when you’re jealous.”

He shakes his head with a smile stretched onto lips, wrapping his arm around the perimeter of your waist to push your chest flat into his. “Yeah? I could also just text René right now,” he says as he shrugs his shoulders before adding, “ask what she’s wearing.”

Your face twists into a scowl as you press your hands into his chest in an attempt to push him off but there’s no strength behind the push because you don’t want to push him off and luckily, Jungkook is not budging.

You huff and wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your lips to his jaw and leaving a trail of soft kisses on his honey skin. “You could but you won’t.” Your breath tickles him, apparent by how quickly you can get goosebumps to pop out of his skin.

“Hm,” he hums nonchalantly and tilts his head to give you more access. He adds, “You sound awfully confident.”

“Yep,” you retort right away, dropping your arms and placing your hands on top of the dresser, leaning back on them as you look at him. “Want me to show you how confident I am?”

He cocks his eyebrows and tilts his head to the side, contemplating your words. “And how would you show me?”

You blink at him, fluttering your eyelashes innocently as you push him back and hop off the dresser. You turn him around and press his back into the dresser.

You slowly sink down, squatting in front of him and caging his calves in between your thighs in the process.

You look up at him with an innocent twinkle in your eyes as you reach for the waistband of his sweats, waiting for him to give you the green light.

“Shit,” he breathes out before eagerly nodding.

A soft giggle pushes past your lips as you start tugging his sweats down his legs and letting them pool at his ankles. You’re faced with his black Calvin Klein boxers and fuck, does he look good.

You tuck your fingers under the hem of his CK boxers and slowly tug them down his legs as well. His dick isn’t hard yet but it’s slowly growing.

You place your hands on the outer-sides of his bare thighs and move your head downwards to take the head of his dick into your mouth without using your hands, pretty eyes still staring into his.

He curses quietly and places one of his hands on your head, staring down at you to watch your every move.

You keep your eyes glued to him, lashes kissing your brows with the same innocent glimmer in your pretty eyes. You continue to move your head down his shaft, feeling it harden in your mouth and grow heavy with blood on your tongue.

His dick starts rapidly inflating in your mouth but you’ve already completely lathered it in your saliva, making it easier for you to pump his base as you continue to suck on the first few inches of his hardened dick.

You slide your tongue down his shaft, tracing one of the veins down to his balls as you gently suck on them whilst pumping his shaft, your eyes never breaking the intense lock you have his gaze in.

He winces in sensitivity and his thighs tense in pleasure as you continue to suck on his balls, your thumb gracefully rubbing over the head of his dick every time your hand makes it up his shaft.

“Quit teasing me,” he demands but it comes out in a pleading tone, his hips slightly jerking as he tries to fight the urge to thrust into your hand.

“Quit teasing me, what?” you press a kiss to the side of his shaft, eyes menacingly mocking him as you refuse to look anywhere else. You love when Jungkook submits to you because he rarely does.

He grunts in annoyance. “Quit teasing me, please.” His hand on your head gently strokes your cranium, hopeful that you’ll comply.

But you have other plans.

You haven’t taken him into your mouth since you’ve started teasing because the moment you do, he’ll make you eat your own shit by mercilessly fucking your throat. And you’re in need of teasing him some more before you let that happen.

You lick a wet stripe up the downside of his dick ‘till you make it to his tip, collecting all the precum that had started oozing out of his dick onto your tongue. You teasingly lick all around the head, the tip of your tongue sliding in between his slit which makes him hiss.

“Y/N,” he warns, trying to sound stern but his mouth betrays him when a soft, desperate moan pushes past his lips right after he says your name.

You simply hum in response. He can sound stern all he wants to but you’re the one in control, not him.

One of your hands abandons his thigh, letting the cold air hit the warm spot on his skin that your hand has left and you bring it up to massage his balls, tongue still wickedly teasing his slit.

You innocently blink up at him as you start pressing kisses to his tip, the precum sticking to your lips as you leave a sloppy trail of kisses down his shaft.

“Y/N, please,” he whimpers.

The moment his plea reaches your ears, you part your lips wide enough for him to fit through but you don’t move. It’s a wordless invitation for him to come use your mouth however he pleases.

He gets the memo right away and doesn’t waste any time to slide right into your mouth, holding your head in place as he thrusts into your mouth, groaning when the head of his dick slams into your soft palate.

You blink your tears away but it’s useless as he continues to assault the back of your throat, tears uncontrollably spilling from your eyes and rolling down your hot cheeks, ruining your makeup in the process.

You tap his thigh twice and he understands, halting his thrusts and glancing down at you to check. Once you take his dick back into your mouth and move your own head down his shaft again after catching your breath, he throws his head back and lets you suck him off to the best of your abilities.

Your makeup has undoubtedly smudged all over your face but you don’t mind, not when Jungkook loves it. You gracefully move your mouth down his dick, committing the feeling of his hardened shaft effortlessly sliding over your tongue to memory.

He moans and groans a few more times and that tells you he’s nearing his orgasm. But just as you’re about to speed up, he stops you.

“I want to cum inside of you,” he tells you before sliding out of your sloppy mouth.

You try to catch your breath and nod as you wipe your chin and mouth with the back of your hand before rising to your feet.

“I don’t like that I’m completely naked and you’re fully clothed.” He reminds you that you are – in fact – fully clothed and he is – in fact – buttnaked.

“I don’t know, seems kind of fair to me.” You shrug your shoulders once you tug your shirt off and throw it somewhere in the room. You bring your fingers up to right under your eyes to try and clean up some of the makeup stains on your hot cheeks. “‘Cause aren’t you a pervert, anyway?”

He scoffs as he crosses his arms. “I’m the pervert?”

He takes a breath to continue his argument but it’s abruptly cut off when you unclasp your bra and toss it at him, watching as it gracefully drapes over his shoulder.

His eyes drop down to your chest as if he’s forgotten you even have eyes before his hands wrap around your waist and push you toward his bed with a quickness.

You let yourself fall back against the soft mattress but you can barely enjoy the feeling before his fingers tug your pants down your legs. You prop yourself up on your elbows and watch as he mindlessly tugs your jeans off your ankles, angrily tossing it aside.

A soft giggle leaves your lips as you watch him be passive aggressive with your pants but not for long when his eyes shift to yours.

“Something funny?” he quips, eyes dropping down to the only piece of fabric that’s hindering what he wants to do to you.

You glance down at your panties before back up at him. Your hand travels down your stomach to your pelvis, slowly sliding your panties to the side, allowing him to see what a mess he’s made between your legs.

His tongue peeks out at the corner of his lips, sliding along his bottom lip as he eyes your attention-seeking sex. He hooks his fingers around your panties and slides them down your legs, tugging them off your ankles and tossing them somewhere on the floor over his shoulder.

He hunches over and positions his mouth right above your pussy before spitting on it, watching your legs jerk as he rubs it into your already soaked sex with his fingers. He knows you like it and he’s right, it drives you up the fucking wall every time he does.

He straightens his back and positions himself at your sticky sex, rubbing the head of his dick up and down your wet slit.

He wastes no time as he looks into your eyes when he pushes in, watching your face and how your eyes widen, your mouth falls open, your body jerks.

“Jungkook.” His name leaves your mouth in a desperate moan as he bottoms out, his brows furrowed and his bottom lip trapped between his teeth.

He lets out a low grunt and after a while of adjusting to the feeling of being inside of you again, he starts thrusting into you.

Your eyes shift to where you’re connected, intently watching how his dick disappears in and out of you. A pathetic moan falls from your lips, a surprised yelp following directly after when he grabs a handful of your breast, massaging it in his palm as he fucks into you.

His hips speed up in pace, the sound of his skin slamming into yours has your eyes rolling back and your arms give out, making you fall back against the mattress, sprawled out in front of him again.

He lets go of your breast and pushes one of your legs back, hooking it around his arm to keep it in place and mercilessly starts pounding into you, face hovering right over yours. “You’re so beautiful.”

Your eyes flutter open at his words, the only thing you can think about now is the stretching in your walls and his beautiful face in front of yours.

“You belong to me, don’t you?” he muses, face closing in on your neck as he presses soft kisses to your sweaty skin. The soft whines and whimpers leaving your mouth makes him fuck you harder yet gentler, full of love yet full of hate, want but also need.

You gather your breath to answer his question, in the mood to tease him now that he’s finally yours again. “No.”

Teasing each other is your love language.

His hips slow down and his face appears in front of yours again with a frown. His jet black eyes staring you down makes you want to sink into his mattress and disappear off the face of the Earth. He arrogantly clicks his tongue as he says, “Is that so?”

“Mhm,” you hum, closing your eyes as you move your hands up to the back of his neck to play with his hair, twirling his locks around your fingers.

He mockingly nods at your teasing. “You know damn well no one else fucks you like I do.” His thrusts get harsher, eyes dropping to your breasts bouncing from the momentum of his pounding.

You whimper at the switch, the rough pounding makes the wetness squelch extra loud and you’ve made a disgusting mess against his sex with your slick.

“You know, Hoseok was pretty goo–”

“But who’s the one fucking you right now?”

His rebuttal has you dead silent aside from the occasional, pathetic moans and heavy breathing. You open your eyes and the first thing you’re met with are his own, black and frustrated.

“The love of my life.”

Your reply to him has his hips stuttering in their rhythm, the corners of his lips twitching as he tries to fight the smile threatening to creep onto his lips. In order to hide his smile, he starts leaning down and presses his lips against yours in a sweet kiss, a stark contrast to the rough pounding of his hips.

Make-up sex really is the best.

You decide it’s enough teasing and wrap your legs around his waist, caging him in between your thighs as you pull him even closer. “I love you so much,” you mumble against his lips, arms wrapped around his neck to fully keep him trapped in your embrace.

He nods at the words, his pelvis still repeatedly slamming into yours. His hips slow down but the power behind them never subsides, the rough pounding has all your nerve endings set alight and your thighs jerk violently when the head of his dick barely grazes your cervix with each thrust.

“I’m gonna cum,” he mumbles against your lips, allowing you to lick into his mouth. You clench around his dick, walls wrapping tightly around him. He groans into your mouth, it’s your way of milking him of every drop and he knows it.

“Harder,” you moan once he pulls away from your lips, his brows knitting together as he complies, roughly slamming his hips into yours.

His breath is getting heavier by the second and his dick twitches in between your walls, alerting you that he’s seconds away from his climax. “I love you so much,” he mumbles as he ejaculates, painting your insides with his cum.

He keeps thrusting and lets long groans and moans leave his lips as he fucks his load into you, your soft whimpers in his ear are the cherry on top that drives him insane.

He gives you a couple more thrusts before he fully comes to a halt, face buried in the crook of your neck.

The synced heavy breathing, his proximity, the reality of the situation, it all has tears pricking in your eyes.

He slowly lifts his head off your shoulder, eyes searching yours. “You haven’t cum yet, hm?”

You shake your head in response.

“Remember when you teased me while sucking my dick 20 minutes ago?” he asks as he unhooks your legs from his waist.

Your breath hitches in your throat as you listen to him, already knowing where this is headed.

“Get ready,” is all he says.

He pulls out and drags you all the way to the edge of his bed, forcefully shoving his fingers into your mouth while the other wastes no time traveling to your sex and beginning its torturous assault on your sensitive clit.

Your throat is ruined from the screams you’ve let out when he continues to edge and overstimulate you for the next 30 minutes, watching in satisfaction as you writhe and squirm under his touch.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

You wrap the towel around your frame as you leave his bathroom, eyes glued to him as he’s staring at the ceiling before his eyes shift to you. He turns on his side and props his head up on one hand, a smile on his lips as he watches you dig into his dresser for something to wear.

“When do you leave again?” you ask quietly as you pull out a pair of his sweats.

He stares at your back for a moment longer before answering, “Next Thursday.”

(Read: For context, it’s Friday right now.)

Your hands find one of his bigger shirts and you pull it out, placing it next to the sweats you chose on top of the dresser.

You continue, “Where are you going?”

He thinks about his answer for a few seconds. “Brazil,” he says. This conversation happens every time and yet he answers like it’s the first time you’re asking him these questions.

You slowly nod as you consider asking him what you want to ask him.

“How long will you be staying there?” you ask as you drop your towel and slide his sweats and shirt on, ditching your bra and underwear.

He looks up at you as he says, “I’m not sure, probably a week or two.”

Your feet slowly take you to him and you take your seat on his bed right next to him.

You nod your head in understanding again before you reach out to tuck his hair behind his ear, addicted to the way his soft hair feels against your skin.

“Will you let me come with you?”

Your question has him perking up like a cartoon character, lips twitching, eyes wide, ears expanding.

Ever since you met him, you had never flown out with him anywhere. You love change but you also love the comfort of your own home.

But love is about compromise, is it not?

He instantly shoots up in his bed and lunges at you, wrapping his arms tightly around your frame, face buried in your hair. He deeply inhales, his arms almost crushing your ribs, his pounding heart beating against your chest.

His breath has gotten shaky but you can tell that he’s fighting the urge to bawl in your presence. And eventually, he finally finds the voice that abandoned him in his time of need.

“I would love that.”

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

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oddinary4bts · 1 year ago

Text

Here's my weekly review for Bookclub, in the form of live reactions as I was reading the fic bc I already reviewed this once and wanted to do something different this time around haha

Live review under the cut

Mkay the way it starts with her having a backstage pass to a bts concert?? I’m jealous

Not tae being a sappy baby gosh, if only he’d stayed that way

Love the way they didn’t get it easy just bc it was love at first sight. Long distance relationship that consists of mostly texts and calls ARE hard and you portrayed that well!! But Dilara definitely could have answered tae’s good luck text with more than just an emoji lmao

Rip alex turner lmao (also all I could think of was age gap when I read this first haha)

Honestly, “your concept is too overwhelming for me” is an incredibly powerful way to break up with someone HAHA

Taehyung during that concert was a vision and damn I think I might be in love

Not the lockscreen’s picture I’ll cry

The fact that he doesn’t know they got her backstage passes I’m dead

Not tae having a fake account to follow her career

Oop, fucking in a dark staircase mmmmh

NO WHY IS SHE LEAVING SO SOON

Am I the only one that feels like her hiding Alex Turner form tae is a red flag?

Lmao not tae being afraid of being caught vaping while jk literally had his vape out for everyone to see in that live HAHA

I didn’t know green apple cigarette was a thing

Exhibitionism kink for the win

Tae is a dirty lil hoe and I’m all here for it

NOT HER SINGING MAKE IT RIGHT BEFORE SUCKING HIS DICK LMAO

Why are Jimin and Jungkook interrupting bruh

“Jungkook tagging along for reasons best known to himself” MMMMMMMMMMMH you are contributing to the agenda of Jungkook having a crush on Dilara a lot ma’am

Jungkook having separation anxiety from tae is canon

“Daniel Ricciardo, a handsome fellow driver” HAHAHA DAMN RIGHT

Why wouldn’t she want to be his gf BRUH

People getting jealous bc of jimin is peak jimin behaviour and I will not explain why

WHY IS HE FREEZING BC SHE SAID I LOVE YOU

Oh no he knows about alex turner

“I wondered why you’d stopped responding” don’t touch me while I cry (also foreshadow much???????)

Ofc he’s loved her every day :’’’’’’’’’)

KEEP THE BANDANA GIRLIE

Gosh that last line/text

Why did he have to fuck everything up

I’m

Gosh

I missed these idiots

Thank you for writing this story Cath <3 I'll never stop being amazed at how good your idolverse is

Los Angeles (Taehyung x OC)

Summary: Eight months after a magical weekend with Kim Taehyung, after which you never thought you'd see him again, you find yourself reunited with him for one more night.

Pairing: Taehyung x OC

Genre: Fluff, smut, angst

Word count: 14.2 K

Rating: 18+

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, separation, implications of heartbreak, jealousy, heavy making out, nipple play, fingering, oral sex, blowjobs, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), slightly dominant behaviour during sex

Listen to: "goodnight bad morning" by the kills

taehyung masterlist | main masterlist

“Can I check your bag, please?”

You handed it over and took it back with a smile, slipping your arms through the straps and letting it rest on your back as you made your way into the arena, immediately scanning the crowd for Lily. It was last minute, inviting Lily along; but it was the one advantage of being in California - and, of course, having an extra ticket since the band sent you their own.

Your heart skipped a familiar beat at the thought, the backstage pass in your bag feeling like the magic key that would allow you to see him again, in the flesh. If he wanted to see you, that is.

A few months ago, it wouldn’t have even been a doubt in your mind. When you’d left Japan in October, it had been in a state of heartbreak and regret, and the following few days hadn’t been much better. You’d stayed in the black hoodie he’d asked you to keep the whole time, his ring hanging around your neck, listening to The Shins and Norah Jones on a loop, feeling your heart sink at random moments when you’d remember all of a sudden that you’d never see Taehyung again.

You had no way of knowing for sure, but you were reasonably certain that he was going through a tough time, too. Jimin had done a Vlive a couple days after Japan and Taehyung had appeared on camera for a few minutes, looking morose and not talking too much, eventually walking off without saying goodbye - which was when you noticed that he was in a familiar grey hoodie that only two people in the world owned as drivers for Red Bull Racing Honda - one of them being you. He’d also posted a picture on Weverse with the caption “goodbye, i’ll miss you”; to anyone else, it might have just looked like a nice scenery somewhere in the Japanese countryside, but you recognised it immediately as the dog farm he’d taken you to on what you privately counted as your first - and only - date.

You two weren’t stupid, though. Very aware that you lived in a world which had the magic of the internet and phones, you’d started off keeping in touch, texting and occasionally calling whenever you got a chance. But it hadn’t worked out too well, for many reasons. Firstly, BTS was on tour. Even as you followed them online and saw clips and interviews from the fan accounts you followed, it was clear that they had neither the time nor the energy to focus on a single thing more. Secondly, you yourself were nearing the end of the Formula One season and Red Bull, true to form, hadn’t yet made a decision regarding the renewal of your contract for the next year. You had made it onto the podium (second place) in the Japanese Grand Prix, the last time you’d seen Taehyung, which had definitely gotten you a lot closer to a contract, but the focus you’d had to put in in the following races - Russia, Mexico, Brazil, USA - had been insane until you’d finally been resigned just before the last race in Abu Dhabi.

But the real issue, at least as far as you could tell, was that you two just hadn’t got enough time together in Japan to define what you were at all. You’d both said some pretty heavy shit to each other - and while you’d meant it all, it was hard to reconcile that storybook weekend with just texts back and forth, especially when they started becoming more and more infrequent over time.

You had called him on his birthday, not knowing it was the last phone call you’d have. After multiple failed attempts at video calls and normal voice calls, you’d finally settled for just texting him a happy birthday, telling him you missed him and that you hoped he’d have an amazing year ahead. Taehyung hadn’t responded until the next day with a “thanks” and a heart emoji. You’d tried not to feel hurt by it; he probably had a concert or an actual birthday party he was at and after all, it was only a matter of time before their real lives took over your fantasy weekend romance.

January had gone by in a haze of missing each other’s calls and texts while he was in the US and you were in the factory, helping your team develop the car for the new season, and by February, your focus was geared towards testing the car. In March, the new season started. The day of the opening race in Australia, you’d received a text from Taehyung, wishing you good luck for the first race. Your heart had skipped a beat; he’d wished you religiously for every remaining race last year and it felt nice that he remembered that you were still racing. You hadn’t seen it until after the race had ended and you’d landed back in London, though; by then, it was too late to respond with anything more than a singular emoji, making it the last communication you’d shared.

You didn’t know if your feelings for him had really gone anywhere, but they certainly took a backseat after a while, if for no other reason than the fact that it hurt too much to keep missing him. You’d finally confided in Lexie, your closest friend and trainer, sometime in January, when the realisation that you would eventually become strangers started to overwhelm you. She hadn’t been too surprised, but by the time the season started, Lexie had started dropping hints about how you should start moving on, either by making racing your sole focus or by something you hadn’t really considered till then: dating.

In April, you met Alex Turner. He and the rest of the Arctic Monkeys had been at the Monaco Grand Prix, the oldest and most famous race of the year, home to every celebrity under the sun, to perform at the Amber Lounge Fashion Show the day before, and you’d first made eye contact when you’d walked down the runway and he’d crooned Take it easy for a little while right to you, a moment that had gone viral in the F1 community for about ten minutes. You’d partied on Sunday night after the race and, hopped up on a reasonable number of drinks and naturally attracted to how mysterious and sexy he was, you’d hooked up in an empty cabin on the boat.

You’d dated very briefly after that, mostly because you were both single and based out of London. Alex called you his muse, photographing you while you lay around on his couch and penning random lyrics about how a fast car had swept him away and whatnot. You, on the other hand, with your apparent weakness for dark and brooding musicians, knew instantly what you were trying to do and whom you were trying to replace - and how miserably you were failing. You hadn’t realised you were failing until a few weeks in, when you’d woken up in his bed one morning and, expecting to see Taehyung’s face, had felt your heart sink when you’d seen Alex’s instead.

You’d broken up with him before breakfast, a conversation that had turned unexpectedly mutual when Alex had claimed that your “concept” had been too “overwhelming” for him, while you chose to stick to more straightforward reasons and told him flat out that your career was too demanding for a relationship. You’d stood in the kitchen in silence, the mutual relief in the air obvious to any sentient individual, before he’d pulled yu in and kissed you goodbye. You’d suspected he wanted it to be a passionate farewell that he could probably write a song about, but in the haze of the previous night’s liquor and this morning’s freedom, you’d ended up fucking on his dining table before you left his apartment for the last time.

Your decision to come to this concert had been a tough one. On the one hand, it was a BTS concert - enough said. On the other, you didn’t know where you and Taheyung stood and while you could very well go to the concert and leave without anyone being the wiser, this could be your one chance to get closure - whichever way it went. Not knowing meant you were unable to move on, though, so despite how big of a risk this was, you knew you had to take it.

The next question was how to actually meet him. Calling and informing anyone in the band was out of the question; the only thing you wanted less than finding out you were over was making Taehyung feel obligated to invite you backstage. It could make you seem like a girl who couldn’t get over an ancient fling or a fan looking for clout, and you frankly couldn’t pick which was worse.

Finally, after ages of overthinking, you decided to post an Instagram story with Lily, taken in front of The Radisson where you were staying, captioning it “Los Angeles represent with this hot local” with a song from one of their older albums as the soundtrack. It was as subtle as you could make it; if any of the band members still remembered you, they’d see it on your Instagram. You knew for a fact that at least Namjoon, Hoseok and Jungkook had private accounts - if even one of them saw, you’d get your answer.

When you’d returned to your hotel after lunch the day before the concert and the receptionist had handed you an official-looking envelope, your stomach had squirmed in anticipation and excitement. As hoped, it consisted of two tickets and a backstage pass to the concert, along with a note saying “Hope to see you there! - BTS”. While it hadn’t escaped your notice that it was signed by the entire band, you were glad that the envelope had arrived at all.

Lily was your obvious choice for the concert; ever since she’d started dating Alex Albon, a fellow F1 driver, you’d both hit it off and made sure to hang out every time she came to support him at a race. Had Lexie been here, it would unquestionably have been her, but you were somewhat glad it wasn’t, especially since there was only one backstage pass which would be a lot harder to explain away to Lexie, as well as the fact that Lexie was sure to ask a ton of insightful questions, none of which you felt you had the answers to.

You’d spent all of last night in a haze of anxiety and excitement, even going so far as to reconsider going at all. There was no way, of course; at the very least, you knew Lily wouldn’t allow you to miss the concert. Now, you searched for her, constantly checking your phone for any update on her location.

When you finally found Lily, it was less than five minutes before the band came on stage. The show passed in a blur of energy and colour. Halfway through, you realised that no matter what happened between you and Taehyung tonight, attending the concert was more than worth it. When you saw him walk onto the stage for the first time, your heart stopped. It was proof, whole and conclusive proof, that he did indeed exist, that he wasn’t a dream. It was also a vaguely sinking feeling when you saw him gaze at the crowd and perform his heart out, that it wasn’t at all unreasonable to presume that you were well and truly in the past for him.

You tried to enjoy seeing him in the flesh as much as you could, though. He was in black joggers, a black t-shirt and a black unzipped hoodie, a black and white bandana around his forehead. His hair was slightly shorter and straighter than the long and voluminous perm that it was in Japan, but he looked so incredibly sexy that it didn’t even matter. When he sang his verse of Mikrokosmos and appeared on the screen, eyes full of emotion as he looked out at the crowd, you realised with an unexpected sadness that even if it ended today, this was the best last memory you could have of Taehyung.

At some point, he looked to his left and smiled at Jimin with his glorious, boxy smile, hair falling effortlessly on his bandana and onto his forehead. You’d run your hands through that hair, you remembered. Pulled at it, brushed it out of his eyes. You’d kissed those lips, hugged those shoulders, held those hands the last time you’d seen him, when he’d told you he loved you. I know it doesn’t make sense but I really do, he’d said, lips at your hair, arms around your waist. You felt a pang in your chest at the thought that it might not mean as much to him anymore.

When the concert ended, you said goodbye to Lily and hung back for a bit before heading to the building behind the stage, flashing your backstage pass at the bouncer. He looked at your pass, glanced at your face, and led you to the side, into a dark corner that looked more like a storage space than anything. You were just starting to get creeped out when you finally saw a familiar face.

“Hey, you came!” Namjoon, tall and winded, appeared from one of the corridors and immediately hugged you. You were glad it was just him; during the short weekend in Japan, the only other members of the band you interacted with at length were him and Jungkook. “It’s so good to see you. Taehyung’s going to lose it when he sees you,” he added, chortling, as he motioned for you to follow him.

Taehyung. You sighed and stopped in your tracks, knowing you had to ask. You were both in a corridor now, about to climb a small flight of stairs to a door that you could only presume eventually led to their green room. Namjoon stopped as well, frowning. “Everything alright?”

“Is this -” You bit your lip, your heart beating faster now. “Is this a bad idea? Tell me honestly. I mean, it’s been - what - eight months since I last saw him? Does he, you know… does he even remember me?” Does he even care?

For all his intelligence, Kim Namjoon looked highly confused, as though he was still processing the question. “Who? Taehyung?” When you nodded, slowly and incredulously, he froze - but not as though he was in shock. More like something in his brain stopped working. “Well, I mean… I’m not in his mind, but I think... I think he could get electroshock therapy and still not forget you,” he said kindly before straightening his face. “Seriously, he hasn’t been the same since Japan. Do you really think he - I mean, as far as I know, you’re still his phone’s lockscreen.”

You were sure the last part was an exaggeration, but your heart leapt all the same. “Are you sure?” you pressed, mostly because you thought you knew what Namjoon looked like when he was confident, and this wasn’t it. “Did he send me the backstage pass or was it all of you?”

“Um…” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “Okay, so technically, he doesn’t know you’re here. Jungkook saw your post on Instagram and I got the passes sent to your hotel. But we just wanted to surprise him, that’s all,” he added quickly, obviously seeing your eyes widen in shock.

“He doesn’t know? Oh, my God! What if - what if -” You couldn’t even speak, the number of worst case scenarios in your head suddenly skyrocketing. “Okay, this is a really bad idea. You know what, I can just leave right now and he never has to know, okay? Great concert, by the way,” you added hastily, already turning around to sprint the hell out of this place when Namjoon grabbed hold of your arm.

“Okay, come on,” he said calmly, like he was speaking to a child about to enter pre school for the first time. “Look, at least meet him. It would break his heart if he knew you were here and you still didn’t at least see him.”

“Why will he ever find out?”

“Well, I mean, he knows you’re here.”

Your eyes widened. “You just said he doesn’t know!”

“No, no, he doesn’t know you’re here backstage,” he corrected himself, waving his hands impatiently. “But he knows you’re in Los Angeles because he -” Namjoon broke off abruptly and sighed. “Okay, do not tell him I told you this, but… he created a fake Instagram account so he could follow your career. Like, literally, in the car on the way to the airport in Japan. He thinks we don’t know but we do.”

You were speechless for a few seconds. “But… if he knows I’m here then why didn’t he say anything?” you asked in a small voice.

“Well, because if I have to guess, he probably thought you forgot about him,” guessed Namjoon, clearly losing patience now.

You swallowed, staring at him. “What’s his username?” you asked finally.

“Taeovercoffee,” he said, without skipping a beat.

You could feel yourself wanting to smile, finally rolling your eyes. “Well, he’s wrong obviously,” you muttered, your heart fluttering and mind going back to Japan. But you were still anxious. Looking up at Namjoon, you tried to ask him, silently, if he really thought this was a good idea.

He sighed, chuckling in what you took to be mild disbelief. “Do you know that ever since Japan, he’s increased the number of English classes he’s taking to thrice a week? It’s the first time he’s ever done that. He’s taking as many classes as Jungkook now.”

You swallowed, pretending not to know what he was getting at. “Haven’t they all been learning since debut?”

“Exactly.”

Heart thumping hard, you finally nodded. “Not sure what that has to do with me, but… okay.”

Namjoon rolled his eyes with an unimpressed look at her, knowing he’d won. “Yeah, I’m sure you don’t. Can we go now?” When you exhaled and nodded again, he resumed walking. You followed him to the green room, where it was just Seokjin, Yoongi and Hoseok present, all still in their concert outfits, looking exhausted but exhilarated. They stood up when they saw you, though, greeting you like they knew you already, Hoseok even coming up to hug you.

You were still there a few minutes later, preferring to listen to them talk while you fretted about finally, finally meeting Taehyung. You worried about everything; your clothes (skirt overalls over a crop top and sneakers), your hair (shorter than Japan), what you would say. It was nerve wracking; you wanted him to hurry up but simultaneously take his time.

Finally, right when Namjoon and Jin were in the middle of discussing some hilarious mistake that no one in the audience seemed to have caught in Korean, Jin’s gaze shifted to something behind you, looking over the top of your head. You turned involuntarily, before you could fully guess what he was looking at, and it was like you’d gone back in time.

It was like a scene out of West Side Story; everything else blurred into the background and it was just Taehyung, tall and sweaty and sexy, looking at you with wide eyes as if you were a hallucination. He was still in his stage clothes, down to the black and white bandana, his black hair falling onto his forehead with graceful ease. You could just about make out Jimin and Jungkook on either side of him, but neither of them could steal your focus from him.

Your heart was racing and you realised you were holding your breath. You exhaled shakily and attempted a small smile. “Hi,” you managed, swallowing. When he didn’t reply, you panicked. “I’m sorry, I should’ve called but I didn’t want to -”

You barely registered his smile beginning to appear before he’d covered the distance to you in two strides and grabbed you into a gigantic hug, pulling you close and tight. You automatically wrapped your arms around his neck, momentarily forgetting you weren’t alone and burying your face in his shoulder as you heard him murmur into your hair, partly in English and partly in Korean.

“Oh, my God,” he whispered, arms so tight around you that you felt like your ribcage might break. “You’re here, you’re really here…” He switched to Korean, clearly unaware, but you didn’t care because you got it. You got it, and you were so relieved that you got it and he got it.

He set you down but didn’t let you go, pulling away just a bit. “How - how are you -” He broke off, sounding like he’d just run a marathon but Namjoon interrupted before you could respond.

“Um, I don’t mean to -” He grimaced, looking awkward as hell, “but the staff will get here soon.” He locked eyes with Taehyung, who nodded in understanding and grabbed your hand.

“Come on,” he said breathlessly, tugging on your hand, and you both hurried out of the room. You had no idea where you were going; you simply followed Taehyung. You finally reached a dimly lit stairwell where you halted to a stop and, almost like you could read each other’s minds, launched yourselves onto each other. Taehyung pushed you against the wall, hands firmly gripping your waist, and kissed you passionately, almost frantically. You kissed him back, hands running through his hair before they snaked down to the waistband of his joggers.

It was all very quick and heated and desperate. You palmed him through his joggers as his lips roamed your neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses down to your collarbone; you nipped at his lower lip while he pulled your underwear down and hitched you up, lining himself up at your soaking entrance and sliding in when you whispered your desires against his ear. You forgot everything else: where you were, why you were here, what you would do if you got caught. It was just you and Taehyung consummating everything you’d felt over the last eight months.

It was not what you’d imagined when you’d thought about this night but somehow this hot, frantic sex, all lips and tongue and teeth and incoherent moans, against a wall with Kim Taehyung, so long since you’d last seen him, seemed like exactly the kind of thing you ought to have expected.

When you were back on your feet and done cleaning up with tissues that your friend Chris insisted you carry everywhere, he walked back up to you. You were still leaning back against the wall, knees weak and panting slightly as you came back down from your orgasm, heart speeding up as he reached closer and closer to you. When he was finally standing before you, your chests touching, he brought his hands up to your face hesitantly, so unlike how he’d held you just a few minutes ago.

“You’re really here,” he murmured, his eyes wide with hope and wonder, almost as if he was afraid you were going to disappear. His hands slid down to your shoulders, your arms, your waist, and back up to your face. “It’s really you, you’re really here…”

You bit your lip and chuckled, knowing exactly how he felt. Your weekend in Japan had seemed like something out of a fantasy and you were somewhat glad to know that you weren’t the only one that felt overwhelmed by the reality of it all. You reached up and held onto his wrists, stroking the back of his hands with your thumbs, drinking in the sight of him. “I’m really here,” you confirmed softly.

Taehyung laughed weakly before lowering his head and kissing you, a full, deep, passionate kiss. You opened your mouth and let him in immediately, finally remembering what this felt like, what you’d tried to find with Alex but could never possibly compare to this. He was exactly like you remembered; how close he pulled you to him, how his tongue roamed your mouth, how his hair was so soft and so easy to grab, even if it was damp and sweaty after his concert.

You broke apart after a little while but didn’t pull away; Taehyung rested his forehead against yours, eyes closed. You wanted to close your eyes, too, and stay here forever but you knew you couldn’t, that you had to at least let him know what the situation was. “Tae,” you whispered.

He smiled, eyes still closed. “Dilara.”

Even as you smiled, you felt a small prickle in your eyes when you heard your name come out of his mouth with that Korean lilt, still sounding like the most melodious song he’d ever heard. You tilted your head up slightly and kissed him again before pulling away this time, leaning back against the wall. “Tae.”

He stood straight now and you finally registered how tall he was, your forehead just making it past his shoulder. His hands fell from your waist but he reached up to twirl a strand of your hair on your shoulder, looking down at you with a fond hint of a smile, as though nothing you could say could ruin this for him. When you took a deep breath, he raised his eyebrows in that playful, smirky way of his, asking you to continue.

“I, um…” You bit your lip and tugged on the bottom of his t-shirt, just to give your hands something to do. “I have a flight in the morning.”

Taehyung’s face fell just a bit. As you’d suspected, the end of your dalliance was not something he’d thought of yet. “Oh,” he said finally, eyes falling to the ground as his shoulders dropped. But then he raised his eyes to meet yours again. “Then we have tonight.”

True to form, just like the first night you met, Taehyung took you to the terrace of the building. He told you on the way that they’d recorded, practiced, rehearsed and performed, all in this very building. Apparently it’s where they spent the majority of their time whenever they were in Los Angeles. You preferred it, especially when you reached the top and the cool night breeze hit your face. Next to you, Taehyung sighed and closed his eyes, running a hand through his hair.

“Shit, you must be tired,” you said, suddenly feeling guilty. “Are you sure you don’t want to -”

“No, no, I’m fine,” he interrupted you, shaking his head and coming up behind you to wrap his arms around your waist. “I’ve been waiting for this for too long now,” he told you, kissing your cheek. “Plus, we’re alone…”

You giggled, turning around and happily obliging, kissing him as though you did it every day (wishing). He snickered, responding with feel and, you guessed, adrenaline from after the show, picking you up so you could wrap your legs around his waist. It was so familiar; it still felt like young love, full of excitement and affection and heat. Finally, lips still on his, you reached behind him and tugged at his bandana, untying it, pulling away and hopping down.

Taehyung threw his head back and shook out his thick hair, joining you near where you sat down with your back against a low wall, in the perfect position to take in the view overlooking the entire city. “So,” he began, taking a seat in front of you against a low parapet, bending his knees and casually taking one of your hands in his, interlinking your fingers. “How are you?”

You tried to tell him everything; how the F1 season ended, the fact that you got re-signed for another two years, that your mum and Rudy celebrated fifteen years together. You skirted around the topic of Alex; you didn’t think you had anything to feel guilty about but at the same time, especially given how passionate your reunion with Taehyung had been, you felt yourself wanting to hide it for as long as possible. You both hadn’t even been \very big; except for a few F1 fan accounts on Instagram who themselves could only speculate, no one knew for certain, especially since you and Alex definitely never went public.

There was so much to catch up on that the conversation eventually moved to Taehyung, his tour, how disappointed he was to not be home for his birthday again but that the boys did their best to give him a great time anyway, how he was exploring dreams as a theme for writing music. Sometime during the conversation, you shifted where you were sitting on the floor and your foot hit your bag, knocking it over so its contents spilled out. Thankfully, it wasn’t much - except for one thing.

Taehyung paused before gingerly picking up the cigarette pack, face smooth and completely unreadable. You sighed, just like you did the first time Lexie, Chris and Fred each found out. “Okay, don’t judge me. I don’t smoke all that often; just when I’m stressed or…” Your gaze flickered up to him. “... anxious.”

“I vape,” he stated, looking up at you with that same impassive expression.

You raised your eyebrows, not expecting that. “You do?”

He nodded. “I don’t do it so often, though,” he echoed, the corner of his mouth lifting. “But… yeah. Not just you.”

“Guess we learned something new about each other tonight,” you said softly. “But, you know. I have to hide it,” you added, gesturing to the smokes and the lighter. “The F1 community will not take well to a driver smoking, especially in this day and age.”

Taehyung nodded. “I get it. If I ever get photographed with a vape…” He didn’t even finish his sentence, but he may as well have. K-pop idols were held to such a standard of perfection that if it ever came out that V of BTS was vaping, he would be crucified.

“I can keep a secret,” you told him, holding out your pinky. He looped his own around it and tugged, pulling you onto his lap so you straddled him. There was a shift in the air; there was something so hot and intimate about sharing a sordid secret like this with him, a vice you both had, a weakness that couldn’t get out to the world - except to each other.

Almost to test him, you pulled out a thin, long cigarette and lit it, taking a long drag and only breaking eye contact when you tilted your head up towards the sky and let out a breath of silvery smoke. When you looked back down at him, there was darkness in his eyes, his cheekbones looking sharper than ever, his tongue slowly licking his lips. Wordlessly, you pointed the mouth of the cigarette towards him, watching as he leaned forward and took a long drag, blowing the smoke forward but to your side.

He frowned slightly. “Is that... green apple?”

You smiled in confirmation. “My favourite.” You took another drag and this time when you turned your head to blow out the smoke, he stopped you. His hand came up to your face to keep it steady and he tilted his chin up slightly, keeping it level with your face. Still not looking away from him, you slowly blew the smoke out, right into his mouth, just as he pulled your face closer and kissed you.

It was different from all the other times you’d kissed tonight. He opened his mouth and your tongues met immediately. It was slow, sensual, with deep breathing and sighs into each other's mouths. The cigarette fell forgotten as your hands went up his chest, gripping his t-shirt and feeling his hard, lean chest under your hands before they went up to his head and you ran your fingers through his soft, thick hair.

You moaned softly without meaning to; you’d missed this, him, so much. You felt his joggers twitch at the sound and rolled your hips forward, grabbing at a clump of his hair. Taehyung moved his lips down to your jaw and to your neck, leaving slow, open-mouthed kisses to your skin. His hands moved up your bare waist and up your crop top; hesitating for a moment, he ran his left thumb across your nipple through your bra.

“Shit,” you whispered, feeling your core throb. His other hand moved lower down your body and lingered on the inside of your thigh, pausing there. Eyes still closed and still biting your lip in an effort to not moan out loud, you frowned. You relaxed a bit when you felt his hand move slightly higher up but when it was less than an inch away from your core, he stopped again. Frustrated, you pulled at his hair, trying to get him to go further.

He grunted momentarily and then, to your horror, you heard him snicker against your skin, low and deep. He moved his mouth up your neck and bit at your earlobe, teasing you. You jerked away and pushed him back by his shoulders, glaring down at him. Taehyung looked up at you with that same knowing smirk, raising his eyebrows slightly and even though he wasn’t saying anything, you could practically hear him saying Beg for it - especially since it wouldn’t quite be the first time he was saying it, not in so many words.

The hand that was up your top snaked down and grabbed your arse, pulling you towards him. “Something wrong?” he asked, his fingers now touching your underwear. His smile widened slightly and you knew he’d felt how wet you were.

You sighed, your eyes fluttering shut momentarily. “Tae, come on,” you whined softly, gripping the shoulder of his hoodie in your fist. “Make me feel good, baby,” you murmured, lowering your head slightly and kissing him, your lips lingering on his. “Or not,” you said after a moment, backing up a bit. “We are in public after all.”

The smirk dimmed slightly but his jaw hardened. It felt like a switch somewhere had been turned on, making his eyes darken. “I know,” he said at last.

So Kim Taehyung had an exhibitionist kink. Or some bit of it, at least, as much as his career would allow. You felt a smirk forming on your own face when your mind suddenly ran through all the scenarios you could use this information in. For now, it made you so hot that it was a wonder you hadn’t come already.

You reached behind you and wrapped your fingers around his wrist, slowly bringing it up the side of your torso and back under your top. He pinched your nipple softly, covered with nothing but lace (a good decision, you reflected mildly), smirking and biting his lip when he felt it erect in the cool wind. He pressed his thumb over your clothed clit and you stifled a whimper, so ridiculously wet for him.

You could tell Taehyung was enjoying this, the silence, the risk, the build-up, the control. He was looking up at you with half-lidded eyes underneath dark eyebrows, lips slightly parted and curling back over his teeth. Not breaking eye contact, you raised your hands and pulled down the straps of your overalls, shrugging out of them and leaving you in just a mint green crop top that stopped just below your breasts.

“Stop teasing me, baby,” he murmured, lifting your top carefully with his left hand and pulling the lace cup down, exposing your breast to the cool wind. You shivered and he chuckled quietly, and you knew that while you were egging him on, if anyone was really getting teased here, it was you. He brushed his thumb over your hard nipple again before reaching forward and taking it into his mouth.

You couldn’t pretend any longer. “Fuck, Tae,” you whispered, your back arching and hand going up to grab his hair and keep his head in place. You reached for the hand that was up your skirt, tantalizingly close to your core but frustratingly out of reach, and pressed his palm to your wetness. He squeezed it once before letting it go, making you stifle another whine of annoyance, swirling his tongue around your nipple and sucking at it until you found yourself begging for more.

Taehyung finally pushed your underwear aside and dipped two fingers in you, his thumb going straight for your clit when you heard a sound behind you somewhere in the building and pulled at his hair slightly. “Baby,” you managed breathlessly, already feeling close, “we’re going to get caught.”

His response was to silently speed up his fingers, softly groaning at the sight of how turned on you were. Despite how close you were to coming undone, you knew you’d said the right thing - mostly because you’d said it on purpose. You reached down to feel the pulsating bulge in his joggers and you knew you were right, palming him without warning. He grunted and immediately grabbed your wrist, pushing it away.

“Uh-uh,” he muttered, shaking his head slightly. “This is about you. So whoever’s going to catch us can see you come all over my hand, baby, come on,” he purred, the Korean lilt making your toes curl, kissing your jaw and moving down your neck as his fingers moved faster, his other hand dropping your wrist and grabbing your arse to keep you steady.

“Tae, I’m gonna - oh, God, I’m coming - “ With a stifled cry against his shoulder, you felt the familiar explosion of heat come in waves, panting as his fingers slowed down and let you ride out your high, finally pulling out of you when you were done. When you opened your eyes and looked down at him, he was looking back at you with a mixture of arousal and fondness, his hands resting on the tops of your thighs.

“I’ve missed you,” he said, voice deep and loving, the sharp and sexy tone disappearing instantly. He ran his hands up your bare torso and linked his fingers around your waist and tugged you closer to him. You felt your face heat up with the way he was looking at you so you leaned forward and rested against his chest, your cheek against his shoulder and your forehead brushing his neck.

Taehyung hummed in approval of this new position and his arms tightened around you as he sat back against the wall. You sat in comfortable, intimate silence for a bit; you ran your finger along his chest in random shapes and he tapped his slender fingers softly on your back in random rhythms, making goosebumps erupt on your skin, occasionally fingering the ends of your hair. You tilted your head up slightly and inhaled as subtly as you could; he smelled of lotion, something vaguely flowery, and cologne and sweat, and you never wanted to forget it.

“Did you say something in Korean?” you asked after a couple of minutes, pulling away slightly and looking up, ignoring his low whine at the loss of contact. “When we were…”

He raised his eyebrows for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, I think so. Got a bit, uh… carried away, I think,” he added, a bit sheepishly.

“No, I - I liked it,” you admitted, shrugging self-consciously. “You sounded… sexy.”

He grinned. “Yeah? I’ll keep that in mind for the future.”

It felt like you hadn’t seen this smile in ages, which you hadn’t. Not in person, anyway. You grabbed the front of his t-shirt in a loose fist and tugged. “I missed you, too,” you said after a moment, before kissing him. He responded, taking it slow and deep, opening his mouth to let your tongue in. You snaked your hand down his torso again and reached for his erection, slowly massaging it as you kissed him. This time, he let out a soft groan into your mouth but didn’t push you away; instead he nipped at your lower lip and his hips buckled just a little bit into your hand when you heard the sound again, like a door swinging shut.

You pulled away immediately and whipped around. “What was that?”

“Probably someone who can catch us,” replied Taehyung nonchalantly, reaching up to press a kiss to your exposed neck but you pushed him back.

“Tae, seriously.” You clambered off his lap, ignoring his protests, and craned your neck towards the door that led them to the terrace before turning back to him. “Can you go check? Please? You have more of a right to be here than I do.”

“But -” The relaxed arousal on his face was replaced with mild annoyance, a frown on his forehead until he rolled his eyes and got to his feet, walking away and disappearing for a couple of seconds. “Nothing,” came his deep voice, a note of irritation audible.

You stifled a chuckle, still on the ground when he walked back and gave you a look. “Fine, you were right,” you told him, grabbing his hand and making him pause where he was presumably about to sit down in his old spot. “I can make it better,” you added, adjusting yourself so you were on both your knees before him and looking up.

He raised his eyebrows. “With one of our songs? And not even a sexy one?”

“It’s been stuck in my head since the concert.” You shrugged sheepishly, reaching up to palm his slightly softer erection again. “I can make it sexy, too. You know… I can make it better...” you repeated, massaging him now, “... I can hold you tighter…” You pulled his joggers down so he was just in his boxers, his full erection now coming free, making him sigh, “... I can make it right,” you finished, your voice dropping to a murmur as you stroked your hand up his boxers and gripped his length.

Taehyung swore softly, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. When you started pulling his boxers down, though, his eyes snapped open. “Baby, you don’t have to - “

“I want to,” you said immediately. When he didn’t respond, you gave him a look. “Tae. Come on, it’s not like it’s the first time.”

A smile started spreading across his face, presumably at the memory. “No… no, it’s not,” he agreed. “I just… I get a bit carried away,” he admitted after a moment. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

For some reason, that made your stomach do a backflip. “You won’t.” You slowly ran your hands across his length again, watching as he shivered. “I want to make you feel good, too,” you implored, looking innocently up at him and licking your lips.

You could tell by how his breath was getting shakier that you were wearing him down. “You’ll tell me? If it’s too much?” he asked. When you nodded obediently, he observed you for a moment, face going back to the smooth, impassive one you’d seen for the first time in the flesh, all the back in Suzuka. “Go on, then.” When you ran a single fingertip down his length, he sucked in a breath and closed his eyes. “Suck me…”

You reached forward and took his tip in your mouth in answer. He swore throatily again, and despite your very recent orgasm, you could feel yourself getting aroused again at how deep his voice was. It was a different feeling, being the one to make him look so helpless, so aroused, so close to coming undone. It felt right, somehow. You should be the only one to make him feel like this, you thought, as his tip hit the back of your throat and he groaned your name out loud. Dilara… You moved your hand lower to his balls and he groaned again, higher pitched and his knees buckling slightly.

One of his hands was flat on the wall, supporting him, while the other came up to your hair and he grabbed it, hard. You whimpered involuntarily, gagging for a moment, and you knew he could feel it because he clutched it even harder as his hips buckled forward. You squeezed his thigh, letting him know he could let go, and started bobbing your head faster, your tongue swirling around the head of his cock.

“Oh, fuck, baby, I’m -” Taehyung’s voice was ragged and choked, and you could feel your jaw starting to hurt. “I’m gonna come, Dilara, I -” He broke off and groaned, and you felt his warm seed spurt on your tongue. You slowed down, pumping his length slowly until he was done before pulling away and swallowing without fuss, sitting back on your feet. You tossed your hair back and tried to make it lie flat while he pulled his boxers up, eyes still closed, looking completely fucked out.

You stood up and fixed your overalls before reaching up on the tips of your toes and kissing his cheek. Eyes still closed, he smiled breathlessly, his arms coming around you to hold you in place as he turned slightly and captured your lips in his. You wrapped your arms around his neck, reaching into his hair and running your nails along his scalp, hating that you couldn’t do this every day.

You were still very much in your own world, snogging lazily in the cool breeze of the terrace when you heard a sound followed by a different kind of groan. You jerked apart and you turned around to see Jimin and Jungkook, both holding paper bags, while Jimin had his face screwed up in exaggerated annoyance, turning away and muttering to Jungkook in Korean.

Jungkook slapped him on the shoulder, his own face red as he grinned apologetically, while Taehyung just rolled his eyes and seemingly admonished him before switching to English. “What’s that?” he asked, pointing at the bags.

“Are you hungry?” asked Jungkook, looking at both of them and pulling out boxes of fast food anyway, making your stomach rumble.

You could argue that in Japan, apart from Taehyung, you’d spent the most time with Jungkook and Namjoon - but even that hadn’t been a lot. You and Taehyung had been stranded in the Japanese countryside after the dog farm when the hotel car Taehyung had driven you in had broken down, and he’d predictably called Namjoon for help. Apparently a recent license-holder, the leader had driven over to rescue the two of you, Jungkook tagging along for reasons best known only to himself.

Apart from them, you had only run into Jimin once in the elevator when he’d winked knowingly at you before leaving you alone with Taehyung. Besides them, you hadn’t met any of the other members before the weekend had come to an end, so it was pleasantly surprising that the other two maknaes volunteered to bring you food on the terrace, especially when Jungkook walked over and hugged you just like Namjoon had, albeit a little less confidently.

As the night went on, however, it became less surprising. It was clear that they were both here out of sheer curiosity, and while the older members might have had the sense to give you both your privacy, these two had no such boundaries thus far at least. You found you didn’t mind too much, though; you weren’t the best at meeting tons of new people at once, so it was better that it happened one by one.

It was somewhat sweet how Jimin kept pushing more and more food in Taehyung’s direction as he spoke to you, the Korean accent slightly less pronounced in his words, while Jungkook seemed to have actively missed him for the last hour, talking to him in rapid Korean as though updating him on everything he’d missed the last couple of hours. They kept switching between English and Korean, and it was nice to see Taehyung so comfortable and happy that you couldn’t even find it in yourself to be annoyed that they’d interrupted your precious few hours with him.

Sometime later, when you were just reaching over to dip a french fry in ketchup, he nudged you gently. “I’m, uh… I’m sorry about this,” he said softly, sounding a bit nervous. You frowned and looked over at Jimin and Jungkook who were laughing and talking with each other.

“Oh, don’t be,” you said immediately, meaning it. “I like hanging out with them. Jimin’s my favourite, you know?” you added, winking.

“Oh, ha ha,” he said dryly. “But, no. I meant, I’m sorry for tonight.” You didn’t get it and he seemed to understand that, for he rubbed the back of his neck a bit self-consciously and shrugged. “I just… I always pictured the next time we met that I’d take you out on a real date. Not… stuck up here on a terrace hiding from fans and eating fast food.”

There was something happening in your chest and it was a few seconds before you realised it was your heart racing. You popped the fry in your mouth just to keep yourself from smiling too widely and shook your head. “That’s okay. And if it makes you feel any better, I would think we’re hiding from the paparazzi more than the fans - which I don’t mind at all. But, just out of curiosity,” you added, leaning back against the wall and looking up at him, “where would you have taken me?”

Taehyung pretended to think, leaning back against the wall as well, before listing down a bunch of ideas that included a go-kart track, a dark room in Seoul, a B&B in Connecticut, an art gallery in Sevilla, and a museum of penises in Belgium. It took you a moment to process all of it, but you had fun discussing how you thought those dates would go before you reminded him that he did take you on a date, the day after you first met.

“Oh, yeah, the dogs,” he remembered, smiling. “That was a really good day.”

“It was,” you agreed, nodding. “You even took some great pictures that day - there’s this one I put up on my Instagram a couple months ago… hold on, I’ll show you -”

“This one?”

You looked up to see him holding up his phone, a picture of you lying down on the grass, black hair wavy and spread out, laughing up at him while you cuddled a labrador. “Yeah,” you said slowly, surprised at how quickly he found it. You remembered what Namjoon said about a picture of you being his lockscreen and you wondered momentarily if it was this one.

“Yeah, I saw it. I liked the soundtrack to it, too,” he added cheekily, and you knew he was referring to Winter Bear being the song you chose.

You felt your cheeks heat up, thankful that your skin didn’t quite let you blush. “You saw it?” you asked warmly. You remembered putting it up; it had been just before his birthday and you’d been missing him a fair bit, but your dynamic by then had started dwindling down to the point where you couldn’t simply text him out of the blue. You’d been flipping through the handful of pictures you’d taken during your brief dalliance in Suzuka and when this one had come up, you’d felt an overwhelming sense of affection and sorrow, enough to publicly lament what could have been had things been different, if he wasn’t a world famous musician who was scrutinised by the public and you weren’t a world famous athlete who travelled to twenty countries for nine months out of the year.

“M-hm. I, uh…” He bit his lip, his cheeks darkening slightly, “I created a fake Instagram account. So that I could… follow you.” His eyes locked with yours and you wondered what he wanted to say before he settled on follow.

You bit your lip too, and chose not to reveal that Namjoon had already told you this. “Really? What’s it called? I’ll follow you back,” you told him, taking out your phone and clicking on the Instagram icon.

“From your public account? Sure that’s a good idea?”

“I have a Finsta, too, Tae.” You ended up following him from both accounts, especially since you used your Finsta fairly rarely, shared only with your closest friends. You both went through his account after that and he showed you the posts he’d put up, mostly artsy shots of rain and streets and his studio. You stopped when you spotted one familiar looking picture, though.

“Is that…” You zoomed in and frowned, leaning across his lap a bit. “Is that me?” The picture in question was of a shadowy figure on a bed, long wavy hair spilling over the pillow and sheets, turned away from the camera and facing the large wall-length window, back bare before it was cut off by a white blanket. The person - who you presumed was you - was right at the bottom of the picture, a dark shadow and taking up barely a quarter of the frame. The focus of the picture seemed to be the rising sun outside the window, glowing red and making the sky ripple. In fact, for a person scrolling through, they may not have even noticed there was a person in the picture at all.

Taehyung nodded, unabashed. “Yeah. Remember the morning I took off before you - before you woke up?”

You nodded, recalling how uneasy you’d felt when you’d thought he was done with you once you’d had sex the previous night. He’d disappeared when you’d awoken and made zero contact with you for the rest of the day, even when, as part of Honda’s sponsorship deal, BTS were in the Red Bull garage a good portion of the time. It had taken your car crashing into a wall for him to acknowledge you at all, and a moment of rehearsed closeness with Daniel Ricciardo, a handsome fellow driver, for him to truly reclaim your attention.

“Oh… yeah.”

“Yeah, well. This is what I saw when I woke up,” he said, pointing at the picture. “And it looked…” He trailed off, a slightly faraway look on his face, frowning as he tried to think of the word. “... like something someone would write a song about,” he said finally, looking back down at you.

Your response was on the tip of your tongue, but you were afraid it might ruin the mood… even though you wanted to know. “Then why did you leave?” you asked softly, failing to keep the hurt out of your voice anyway.

He chuckled quietly. “Because not everything is powerful enough to make me want to write about it,” he answered, dropping his gaze back to the picture. “But you were. And that worried me.”

You didn’t have to ask why. It had worried you, too, feeling the way you did, how strongly you did for a man yo barely knew. “So you sneaked out,” you stated in what you hoped was an understanding tone, “because it scared you.”

“It confused me,” he corrected. He raised his eyes to look back up at you, his gaze more intense than ever. “Until it didn’t.”

Once again, you didn’t have to ask what he was talking about, because you remembered. You remembered what had happened later that evening, what he’d confessed, what you’d confessed, how it had been the last time you’d both seen each other until tonight. It was also the last time you’d both ever said it to each other, and now you wondered, looking at Taehyung, if he still felt that way.

His ring felt cool against your ribs, tucked inside your top. It wasn’t something you’d thought about tonight at all, choosing instead to live in the moment. But you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been holding a candle for him this whole time, unable to forget him, unable to move on. You thought about the fake account he’d created, how he’d been keeping up with your career and your life. It suddenly occurred to you that he might know about Alex. But before you could say anything, Taehyung leaned down and pressed his lips to yours, only for a moment before Jimin cried out in annoyance again, exclaiming in Korean.

You pulled apart again, this time a bit embarrassed; in all honesty, you’d forgotten you weren’t alone. Taehyung chucked a fry at Jimin, who looked positively cherubic as he whined. “It’s not our fault you came up here,” said Taehyung shortly, in English.

“We came because we haven’t met Dilara in a long time,” said Jungkook reasonably, making your heart skip a beat at the sound of your name, “not so you could make out with your girlfriend where anyone could see you.”

Normally, you presumed you and Taehyung would both share a moment at the allusion to the new kink you’d discovered about each other, but there was something else that Jungkook said that made you freeze, suddenly unable to meet Taehyung’s gaze. You felt him stiffen next to you and you knew he’d caught it, too.

It was easy to forget sometimes that you and Taehyung barely knew each other - because it felt like you’d known each other forever. The intensity of your feelings was so strong since the first time you’d laid eyes on each other, getting only more so the next couple of days until you left Japan, that you both focused on nothing else until you were separated and finally forced to realise how undefined you were.

You knew you weren’t his girlfriend. You weren’t even sure you wanted to be; you simply didn’t know enough about each other to make that assessment. But all of a sudden, the thought of anyone else being called his girlfriend made you want to throw up.

You still couldn't meet Taehyung’s gaze and you could tell by the way he’d gone suspiciously quiet that he was just as awkward about this as you were. Fortunately, it seemed as though Jimin could read his mind, for he immediately scrambled up and dusted himself off. “There’s a pool table here,” he announced, fooling no one. “Anyone want to play?”

You didn't remember answering, but you found yourself getting pulled up by the hand anyway. Or maybe you stood up yourself; it was too hard to tell in the face of Jimin’s sparkling smile and angelic voice. Taehyung presumably stood up behind you and you all shuffled out of the terrace and into an adjoining room you hadn’t noticed before, where you and Jimin played against Taehyung and Jungkook.

You were glad for Jimin being here because the awkward tension disappeared instantly. You and Jimin were decent at pool, while Taehyung was terrible and Jungkook being Jungkook was amazing without ever having played before apparently, making the teams evenly divided. You were barely paying attention to the game, though; you were pleasantly surprised at how Jimin and Jungkook were deliberately making an effort to make you feel comfortable.

Jungkook sang dramatically every time it was his turn to shoot, while Taehyung, adorably frustrated at how bad he was, started sneakily knocking balls around and distracting everyone else. Jimin, bored after a few good shots, resumed the conversation you’d both been having outside about your friends and the work they did (choreographers). It was surprisingly easy to talk to him, enough that it was a while before you realised that you were both neglecting the game in favour of talking to each other, leaning against your cues and laughing every time you were pulled out of your conversation by either Taehyung or Jungkook who prodded you to play your turn.

It wasn’t until you caught sight of Taehyung’s face halfway through and spotted him turning away in what you could only identify as annoyance, that you wondered if he was annoyed at how you were monopolising his friend. In all honesty, you hadn’t even realised you were, but you supposed if how he was walking by both of you but deliberately ignoring you was any indication, he was definitely annoyed.

But it wasn’t even until he walked by both of you again, this time blatantly knocking the cue ball into another one so they both tumbled into the corner pocket, that you realised where you’d seen this particular expression of his. A million years ago, back in Suzuka, the day he’d been frustratingly keeping his distance from you, you’d brought out the big guns to test if he was truly over you. You’d roped in Daniel Ricciardo, a sexy, fun-loving, Australian beach boy who drove like a shark, making sure to pay him your full attention and laugh at all his jokes, until Daniel had finally called you princess, and Taehyung had snapped.

Danny hadn’t even meant anything by it; it was a media nickname given to you that most of the drivers used as a joke, but something in the way he’d said it at the evening buffet, with Taehyung standing less than five feet away from you, had hit a nerve. Taehyung had slammed his coffee cup on its saucer before stalking out of the lounge, the sound not dissimilar to that of the cue balls he’d just knocked over.

Jealousy becomes you, baby, you’d whispered into his ear not long after that incident, once he’d cornered you in your dressing room. You doubted he’d even heard you; he’d fingered you while making sure you kept eye contact with him the whole time, satisfied only when he watched you come undone because of him.

He’d told you he loved you less than an hour after.

Now, you turned around to see Taehyung sighing loudly before something suddenly seemed to fall in place for Jungkook, who immediately started to leave.

“No, no, we should go,” he said hurriedly to Jimin, who looked thoroughly confused at this abrupt plan. He looked over at you for support but you could only shrug, biting your lip and trying to suppress a smile, pretending not to notice how you felt Taehyung come up to stand behind you, towering over your smaller frame. As Jimin continued to protest, Taehyung walked over and held the door open, watching Jungkook pull him away as they disappeared, before shutting it and slowly turning around to face her.

There was about ten feet of emptiness between you where he was at the door and you were standing with your back against the table, suddenly realising just how tall he was. He stood there, unmoving, hands in his pockets, narrowed eyes boring into you. You returned his gaze with defiance, softly biting your lip in both anticipation and teasing.

“That was fun,” he said finally, his face conveying the exact opposite.

“Was it?” You shrugged. “I mean… sure, he’s cute,” you allowed, carefully observing him for any movement. “But not my type.”

God, he was so hot. The corners of his mouth widened, but it wasn’t a smile. He took his hands out of his pockets, flexing one of them as he did, and placed them on his hips. “What’s your type?” he asked, as though inquiring about the weather.

“Um…” You noticed all of a sudden that he was closer to you now than he was a few moments ago. “Tall,” you said vaguely, waiting for Taehyung to nod shortly in approval. “Smart. Well-built,” you added, enjoying how he twisted his neck slightly, “... artistic. Kind of moody,” you added further, tilting your head up slightly so you could look him in the eye. He was standing right in front of you now, your chests barely an inch apart.

He didn’t touch you, though. Up close, the black hair, black eyebrows, black clothing played havoc with your heart as he gazed down at you, smooth face betraying nothing. Against your skirt, you felt something move. “Anything else?”

You nodded, ready to play your last card. “I like my men kind of jealous, too, sometimes,” you told him, biting your lip and silently begging him to prove you right. Truth be told, you weren’t big on jealousy. But you had a feeling he knew that, too. Still holding your gaze, he tugged lightly at your skirt before running a hand up the inside of your thigh, stopping just before your soaked underwear. You’ll probably have to throw this pair away, you thought, as his lips curled back slightly over his lips.

Then, all of a sudden, his hand dropped back to his side. You frowned, your breath still caught in your chest, when he tilted his chin up slightly. “Take it off,” he commanded, voice calm and deep.

A shiver went down your spine and you resisted the urge to say yes, sir; somehow, you didn’t feel like it was the right way to address him. His eyes were darker than ever as he gazed down at you, waiting for you to obey. So, you did. Trying to keep your fingers steady, you reached up your skirt and shimmied out of the black bikini-cut you’d put on this morning, hoping for the best.

Taehyung’s eyes followed it as it fell around your feet before looking back up at you. He took a step forward and placed both hands on either side of you on the table, effectively trapping you. “Hop on.”

Everything he was saying sounded like the exact opposite of what it implied. His voice, already world famous for being deep and sexy, was irresistible when he was using it to tell you what to do… especially when you knew you’d do it. You nodded silently and hitched yourself up, legs dangling a foot above the ground. Taehyung ran his hands slowly up your thighs, disappearing under your skirt, holding your gaze the entire time. He didn’t stop until he reached your hips and squeezed them slightly.

Then, without breaking eye contact, he slowly got down on one knee, and then both, and your toes curled inside your shoes at the thought of what was coming. He smirked slightly, clearly knowing where your mind was at, before pushing your skirt up and raising an eyebrow. You shut your eyes involuntarily, knowing for certain that you were about to make a whole mess on the pool table.

“You’re so wet, baby,” he observed in that same calm, deep voice, sounding almost surprised. “Did Jimin get you this wet?”

Ah. You’d almost forgotten what started this whole charade. At the end of the day, your strong, dominant Kim Taehyung was still jealous. You didn’t know how much to push this, but you reasoned that there was no time like the present to find out. You shook your hair back and looked down at him. “Maybe a bit?”

Taehyung’s reaction was exactly what you’d hoped for. His jaw visibly clenched and he pulled you forward with a jerk so it was just the edge of your hips keeping you on the table. You gasped at the sudden movement and he nodded in approval and, wordlessly, leaned forward and swiped his tongue up your folds.

“Oh, fuck!” You didn’t see it coming and you had to grip the edge of the table to keep yourself steady. Apparently, once Taehyung was unleashed, he was a monster, for his hands didn’t loosen their grip on your thighs even for a moment, remaining almost painfully tight, enough that you were sure you’d have bruises in the morning; the thought aroused you even more. His mouth was relentless; he was eating you out, sucking on your clit and running his tongue across your slit like it was butter.

Your hand found its way to his hair and you clutched at it and pulled, making him grunt. You could feel the vibration in your core and you whimpered - and you felt him smile. Or it was a smirk, but you were so close that you couldn’t tell. “Tae,” you gasped, “Tae, I’m close…”

He shook his head. “Yeah? Jimin’s making you come?” He spread your legs wider with a jerk and you whined, pulling at his hair again.

“No, no…” You gave up now - you just wanted to come. “It’s just you - only you…”

“Sure about that?”

You nodded vigorously, barely able to find the words. You felt his tongue lick your clit again and you sighed when, all of a sudden, he pulled away and stood up, running a hand through his hair and wiping his mouth. “Not so easy,” he growled softly, coming to stand between your legs and crashing his lips onto yours. You could taste yourself on his tongue; you responded with urgency, pulling at his t-shirt to bring him closer while he ran his hands up your sides and squeezed your breasts, making you moan into his mouth.

His lips at your neck, he slipped one hand around your waist and smoothly brought you down. “Turn around,” he rasped into your ear.

“Uh-huh.” You obeyed just as you saw him reaching into his pocket and finding them empty; you were leaning on your hands, your legs trembling from the orgasm you were so close to when you realised what you were looking for.

“My bag,” you said breathlessly, pointing to the small backpack peeking out from behind the table. “I have a… there’s a condom.” You both hadn’t gotten to it during the frantic stairwell sex but since you were on the pill, you didn’t quite mind in hindsight.

If Taehyung found it presumptuous, he said nothing about it. You felt him move away and reappear a few moments later. “Good girl,” he murmured, voice like velvet as you heard the condom wrapper tear. A few seconds later, you felt his wrapped tip touch your entrance and you groaned, your hands curling into fists, but you didn’t say a word, not wanting him to deny you another chance to finish.

Taehyung placed his hands on your waist and bit your earlobe before whispering, his hot breath on your ear. “Do you want me to stop, baby?”

You almost came right there, but you made yourself respond in the negative because you knew what he was really asking, in true Taehyung fashion, just like he had in Japan. “Please… please fuck me already, Tae,” you added in a whine, backing into him slightly.

The next thing you knew, you felt his hands on your hips and he entered you slowly, both of you groaning in unison. You couldn’t believe it; you’d almost forgotten to savour what he felt like, how he stretched you out, how his hands made your skin feel like it was on fire at the slightest touch. He established a rhythm quickly; you knew you couldn’t hold out much longer.

Taehyung was pounding into you, each thrust getting you closer and closer to the edge. “Fuck, you feel so good, baby,” he muttered, hands clutching your hips tightly. “You’re so - fucking - wet…”

“Tae, I’m gonna come,” you gasped once more, your arms buckling. “I’m gonna…”

“Come for me, baby,” he murmured, “just for me… come on…”

At his approval, you felt yourself ride your third orgasm of the night. He was still going as waves of pleasure hit you one by one, until you finally came down from it, your neck feeling cool and damp while his rhythm got even faster. He was murmuring in Korean again, before switching back to English.

“Dilara, I’m going to -” He grunted with one last thrust, leaning over you and letting go of your hips, placing his hands next to yours on the table. Panting, he pressed a kiss to your shoulder before resting his forehead on it, slowly coming down from his high.

You felt spent - in a good way. Taehyung pulled out slowly and you winced slightly at the sensation. A few seconds later, you felt his arms go around your waist and gently pull you into his chest as he kissed you on the cheek. “Are you okay?” he asked in Korean, voice a soft, deep murmur against your skin. Your Korean was less than basic, but this you understood. You were too exhausted to say anything, though, so you simply nodded, turning your head slightly to capture his lips in yours.

You turned around in his arms, reaching up on the tips of your toes, and kissed him with renewed passion. You pulled away when you realised you weren’t wearing any underwear.

“Um, can you -” You pointed to where the black scrap of cloth had been kicked a few feet away. Taehyung immediately brought it back, a slightly sheepish yet proud look on his face as he handed it to you and you slipped it back on. “So,” you began, once you’d hopped onto the table, pulling him closer by the hand to stand in between your legs, “the famous V of BTS gets jealous?”

He didn’t look embarrassed; instead, he tossed his hair out of his eyes and rested his hands casually on your hips. “Not really,” was all he said, silently daring you to disagree. You raised an eyebrow but when you couldn’t help but smile at what a liar he was, he smiled too and dropped his gaze. “I’m sorry if I went a bit…” He scrunched up his face and you realised he was searching for the word. “... overboard,” he said finally before pausing. “Actually, no, I’m not.”

You laughed, shoving him by the shoulder. “It was amazing,” you told him honestly before kissing him. He kissed you back, wrapping his arms around your waist and stepping closer to you. His lips felt so warm, so familiar, so perfectly made for yours that the words came out without meaning to. “I love you,” you whispered against his lips, feeling him freeze the moment you said it.

Fuck. You pulled away slowly, dropping your hand from his face onto your lap, unable to believe what you’d just uttered. It was crazy to think he’d still feel the same way… except you had a feeling he did, but you couldn’t be sure. The longer he stayed silent, the more you were convinced you were wrong and the humiliation only got worse. You cupped the back of your neck with both your hands, still not meeting his eyes, and you were just about to hop off the table when his hand came up to your chest.

You stiffened automatically before you saw what he was reaching for. Somewhere during the glorious fucking over the table, the chain around your neck had slipped out of your top. Eight months ago, after a perfect forty-eight hours when you’d both finally arrived at the topic you’d been avoiding, you and Taehyung had more or less made your peace with never meeting again - until you’d been checking out of the hotel after your race and the concierge had slipped you a small brown envelope with a plain silver band inside it, the same one Taehyung had been wearing on his index finger the entire time. Now, he looped the same finger around the ring and tugged gently. “You’re still wearing this?”

You didn’t answer and you knew he wasn’t expecting one either. You felt your heart sink slowly, mentally kicking yourself for your inadvertent declaration of love and wearing a token of it, while he hadn’t even responded yet. At the time, you were sure that the ring meant he didn’t want that weekend to be the end. Now, for the first time since, you wondered if you were wrong. Taehyung brushed his thumb against your jaw and you finally dared to look up at him, trying hard not to look too hurt or hopeful.

“Can I ask you something?” he asked after a few moments, sounding hesitant. Not trusting yourself to speak, you simply nodded. He continued looking at you contemplatively before finally dropping his gaze to rest somewhere between your chin and your neck. “What happened with you and Alex Turner?”

Your heart stopped. It wasn’t that you were afraid of answering; it was just so far off from what you’d expected him to respond with that it took you a moment to gather your thoughts. Taehyung’s eyes snapped up to meet your eyes again and you could see your doubts suddenly reflecting in his, starting to assume the worst, worry clouding his dark eyes even as his face remained smooth and impassive as ever.

Finally, you exhaled deeply, knowing this had to come up eventually. “We dated,” you said simply. “For a few weeks. Nothing more.”

“When you say ‘dated’...”

You bit your lip, not sure what kind of detail he wanted you to go into. “Um… we met in Monaco during the race weekend... and then again in London. Since he lives there, too,” you added, hoping that answered his question. Your heart lurched at the look on his face, the silent hurt along with the forced resignation. “I broke up with him, though,” you whispered after a moment.

He nodded, not meeting your eyes. “I wondered why you’d stopped responding,” he said quietly. “Guess I know now.”

Ouch. Your shoulders dropped. “Tae…”

He swallowed as he continued to finger the ring. Finally, he closed his fist around the ring and sighed. “Did you love him?”

“No.” The answer was easy and immediate. You didn’t love Alex Turner; you didn’t think you ever could have, not so long as Taehyung still hovered within the boundaries of your life, a door unclosed. “The last guy I loved is standing right in front of me,” you admitted, feeling a bit bolder, just wanting him to look at you.

The corner of his mouth tilted up slightly but he still didn’t say anything. “I never forgot about you,” he murmured after a moment, slowly looking up at you, eyes bigger and more earnest than you’d ever seen them.

“Me neither.” You reached up to cover his hand with yours. “Not for a second.”

After what looked like a moment of decision, Taehyung lowered his head and kissed you again, a little tentatively. When you opened your mouth to let him in, leaning in and holding his face to yours, telling him everything you were too afraid to, he sighed.

“Is it bad that I want to kill him?” he murmured against your lips.

You giggled, partly in endearment and partly in relief, and shook your head, going back to kissing him. “Not at all.”

“I’ve loved you every day since Japan, Dilara,” he confessed, moving his lips to your jaw and up to your ear. You felt your face heat up again and didn’t respond, suddenly euphoric. You had sex again, equally passionate but far more gentle, with you lying back on the pool table and Taehyung’s comfortable weight on you, his movements soft and loving. He whispered after a few minutes that neither of you had another condom. You bit your lip, telling him you got tested after Alex, before he confessed that he hadn’t been with anyone after you. Your love for him filled your whole heart and you kissed him and, despite your better judgement, asked him to finish inside you.

You went back outside after that. It was nearing four a.m.; when you settled down against the low wall, with you situated between his legs and resting back against his chest, you finally started to feel tired. Taehyung’s arms were around you, loose but secure, his embrace warm and comforting. You leaned your head back against his shoulder, keeping the comfortable silence going, and turned slightly to breathe in his scent again.

It was barely a few minutes later when you realised he’d fallen asleep. You suddenly remembered that he’d finished a concert tonight, but you couldn’t find it in herself to feel guilty. Careful not to wake him up, you pulled his arms tighter around yourself and leaned back, trying to imprint this moment in your brain as deeply as you could, not knowing if or when you would ever get this again.

You awoke at dawn, the first rays of sun appearing over the horizon. Your phone buzzed just then: a reminder for your flight. You swore, realising you had about ten minutes to leave for your hotel or you would miss your flight. Los Angeles traffic this early shouldn’t be much, but you couldn’t risk it. You started shrugging Taehyung’s arms off and getting to your feet when you felt him stir and tighten his arms around you, groaning into your neck.

“Baby, stop,” he whined in Korean, shifting slightly and crossing his legs around you. Despite the fact that you knew you had to leave, you couldn’t help but beam, your heart soaring at a sleepy, irate Taehyung cuddling you at the break of dawn. You allowed yourself, for one self-indulgent moment, to imagine this moment if you were a couple; a normal couple, dating like normal people, waking up lying on a bed instead of sitting upright on a terrace, half-naked in pajamas instead of concert clothing and make-up, cuddling and snogging until you had to get up instead of cruelly being forced apart yet again with no knowledge of the next time.

It made you smile, but it also made your heart hurt. You sank into his chest for a moment, taking in as much of Taehyung as you could, before turning your head and kissing his cheek. “Tae,” you murmured, nudging him. “Wake up, babe.”

Eyes still closed, he shook his head and buried his face deeper into your neck, twisting your bodies until you both stumbled and fell sideways onto the ground. Taehyung groaned and sat up, squinting in the light as he attempted to flatten his hair, while you got to your feet, dusting yourself off and offering him a hand. Frowning up at you, he said something in Korean.

Biting your lip, you eventually gave up. “My Korean isn’t nearly good enough to understand that,” you reminded him, helping him up. “But I’m learning.”

“You are?”

“Well, I mean, kind of. I don’t know,” you said vaguely, now checking your bag for all your belongings and looking around in case you’d dropped anything. “You know my friend Chris, right? He got sick of me asking him for translations so he’s determined to make sure I learn the language now.” You looked up to see him looking more confused than ever.

“Who’s Chris?”

You gave him a look. “You met him. In Suzuka.”

Taehyung’s frown deepened. “He didn’t work for Red Bull, right?” When you shook your head, his eyes widened. “He’s Korean?”

“Yes. His name is Chris Park. Actually,” you added, “his name is Park Chanyeol.”

“Why didn’t he speak to us in Korean?”

You frowned. “I don’t think he spoke to you at all. You were ignoring me that day, remember?”

Taehyung gave you an unimpressed look, marred by the smile creeping onto his face. “I’m sorry about that,” he said softly, sounding sincere as he came closer to you. When you lightly knocked him on the chest, looking up at him with as much fondness as you could, he swallowed, the smile on his face fading into resignation. “Dilara…”

Your stomach did a backflip at the sound of your name, once again sounding like a song he didn’t want to stop singing. He swallowed again and opened his mouth, but closed it before shaking his head and opening his arms.

You walked into them without hesitation, reaching up and wrapping your arms around his shoulders, feeling him hold you to him tightly. You stayed there for a few moments and, right on cue, you could feel your eyes start to sting with tears. It was so unfair; you wanted to stomp your foot and punch something. You could feel Taehyung press his lips to your shoulder, your neck, the side of your head in quick succession, the situation clearly hitting him now as well.

“I love you,” he mumbled into your hair, deep voice trembling. “Let’s not wait another eight months to do this again, please?”

You nodded, chuckling. “I agree.” You pulled away to wrap your arms around his torso, hiding your face in his shoulder. “I’ll miss you, Kim Taehyung.” He kissed the top of your head before you finally separated. You knew you were crying now, tears actively escaping your eyes as you wiped them. You could tell that Taehyung was just about holding it together, trying to be strong for both of you but he was crying, too. You stepped back and put on your bag, when something fell out of it.

You picked it up before he could, straightening the long black and white bandana in your hands. “I’m keeping this,” you informed him.

He gave you a small smile and nodded indulgently. “It’s yours.”

It was too hard after that - plus, you were getting late. You reached up and kissed him, a quick kiss, lasting less than ten seconds before you turned and bolted, knowing there wasn’t much else to say. You reached your hotel, crying the whole way to the airport, and knocked yourself out with an aspirin on the flight, hoping to catch up on sleep the entire way to London. Just before you took off, you saw a message on your phone.

Next time, I’m taking you out on a real date. I love you. Fly safe.

Thank you for reading. Don't forget to drop a review :)

#bookclub review #los angeles #taehyung fic rec #taehyung #cath's idolverse #cath

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