#fan fiction bts | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sketchguk · 1 year ago

Text

part time lover; jjk

➳ pairing: investigative journalist!jeongguk x daycare teacher!reader. alternatively, spy!jeongguk x assassin!reader

➳ genre: smut, fluff, angst, fake marriage au, dad au, spy x family au

➵ word count: 30.8k

➳ summary: there is no crime more perfect than marrying jeon jeongguk. your relationship is nothing more than a ruse - while your friends pester you for being perpetually single, jeongguk desperately needs a wife to complete the pristine image of a family, fooling his way through the parent interview at the nation’s most prestigious private school.

only time will tell how deep your lies will run as you find home in one another’s minds. because untangled in the moonlight, he is but a spy, exposing a secret world of corruption, and you, an assassin, ridding the streets of danger one hit at a time.

➳ warnings: themes of parenthood, raising a child, reader and jk were both orphans, reader has a past where she struggled with financially supporting her family, eldest daughter trauma, reader is insecure, fears of abandonment, mentions of violence and m*rder (but not explicit), mention of weapons (guns, knives, grenades, poison), jk has a bruise from boxing, descriptions of an explosion, blood is drawn twice (via kitchen knife and shrapnel from aforementioned explosion), (1) mention of weight loss, jk changes his appearance in an attempt to fit in, mention of a minor car crash, social drinking, scars (surgical/knife, bullet wounds), characters are liars for the sake of the plot, side characters are misogynists (satire), food descriptions, pet names (hers: angel, good girl, princess his: love).

➳ a/n: thank you for being so patient with me as i toiled through this fic. it wasn't an easy one! but i do think it's special because of how healing the journey was for me <3 please enjoy, let me know what you think. don't forget to check out the other fics from the "industry baby" collab hosted by the ever so lovely @jeonjcngkook and @mercurygguk !

➳ smut warnings: virgin reader, sexual tension, body worship, nipple play, marking, oral (f receiving), fingering, hair pulling, unprotected sex, jk has a big dick, praising, stomach bulge, spitting, use of the word slut, marriage kink(?) he loves his wife so much, reader wants to be bred, cumshot

Jeongguk, 26 Investigative journalist at Golden News Network Less than a mile away To whom it may concern, I am a single father looking for a wife (DM me for serious inquiries only).

“Your profile is dog shit,” Seokjin deadpans. The cringe settles into the downward turn of his lips as he swipes through his best friend’s Tinder account. “You’d be bitchless if you weren’t hot.”

“Jin, watch your mouth.” Jeongguk shoots a deadly glare toward the older man. “There are children around.”

From the kitchen, Jeongguk cranes his neck to take a peek into the messy living room where his adopted daughter sits, criss-crossed, in front of the television. Minji is too distracted by her weekly cartoon updates to even notice the crude language.

“Minny, don’t sit too close to the TV,” he sends his daughter a stern yet gentle reminder. “Your eyeballs are gonna fall out of your head if you do.”

A frown etches itself onto Minji’s face as she scooches back on her knees.

Jeongguk returns his attention to the dinner he’s preparing tonight. A pot of homemade tomato sauce simmers on the stovetop.

In the back of his mind, he wonders if his dating profile is as terribly unappealing as Seokjin says it is. Otherwise he wouldn’t have so many notifications, right? ー Messages from girls, asking if he could be their daddy too. Jeongguk’s bio is short and straight to the point. He’s not that ugly, or so he thinks. Being a journalist is a respectable occupation with steady income. So what could be so bad about it?

Is it the fact that Jeongguk isn’t even his real name ー nothing but a fake persona to help him with his investigation? Maybe it’s because his adopted daughter doesn’t have a striking resemblance to him, and his pictures look like a shady scam.

But there’s no way that they can see through Jeongguk’s facade. After all, he’s the best spy in the agency. His specialty is deceit. It’s foolproof. There’s no reason not to believe him.

“I think they’re really into the whole dad thing,” Jeongguk nods, focusing on the sliced onions in front of him. The smell of garlic and fresh herbs permeate through the air.

“Really?” Seokjin says in feigned disbelief. He leans back against the couch, making himself comfortable. “It’s not because of the video where you’re deepthroating a deep dish pizza? Just for that, I would have gotten on my hands and knees to suck your di-.”

“Can you seriously watch your language?” Jeongguk cuts him off before pointing a knife in his direction.

Kim Seokjin may be his closest colleague, but that’s exactly where he draws the line. Seokjin is nothing more than Jeongguk’s informant. His job is to get the latest intel on all of his targets, and that’s it. He’s not here to fool around or make friends.

“We took that video in Chicago. Doesn’t it show that I’m well traveled?” Jeongguk asks with genuine curiosity. He remembers reading an article about how women love that sort of stuff.

Seokjin pinches the bridge of his nose. “It’s gonna be a long, long night,” he mutters to himself. His best friend is beyond the point of fixing, but at least he makes a good househusband.

Jeongguk wipes his hands against his frilly apron before dipping a wooden spoon into the pot. He inches the tomato sauce closer to his pursed lips as he blows on the piping hot confection. It could use more parsley.

Just when Jeongguk thought he could distract himself with cooking, he suddenly remembers the pressing problem that occupies all of his brain space: he is in desperate need of a wife. The constant reminder is taped to the front of the fridge 一 a letter from Minji’s prospective elementary school.

Dear Jeon family, Congratulations! Your child’s preliminary results indicate that he/she has passed the entrance exam at Hwa Yang Academy. Our institution carries a prestigious reputation, accepting only the nation’s brightest students. Due to your child’s outstanding academic score, we invite you to the second phase of admissions where a family interview will be conducted. Please have both parents and child present at Yeon Hwa Hall on the first of May, promptly at 10am. It is our good fortune that you chose to apply to Hwa Yang Academy. We look forward to welcoming you and your family to our renowned institution. Sincerely, Department of Admissions at Hwa Yang Academy

The fact that Minji received an interview at the top school in the nation is amazing beyond belief. Everything is going according to plan. The only problem is that Jeon Jeongguk is, in fact, bitchless.

“Remind me again, why do you need to get Minji into that school?” Seokjin furrows his brows. He’s never seen his best friend this stressed. The way that Jeongguk is willing to jump through hoops makes him feel as if he’s never wanted anything so bad in his life.

Jeongguk clenches the wooden spoon in his hand, threatening to give himself a splinter. “I have to get access to Hwa Yang,” he says, like it’s do or die. “There are families with infinite amounts of political power there, including the prime minister. The big boss suspects that they’re planning a rebellion, and I need to get close to them to expose their secrets. Obviously I can’t even touch the elite without pretending to be one myself. So I need this family to be as perfect as it can be.”

“You think you can prevent a whole rebellion and save the country if you go to a few parent association meetings? Bake a batch of cookies like a soccer mom?” Seokjin’s questions are sarcastic, but he’s not wrong. He needs to infiltrate the prime minister’s inner circle, befriend him, and uncover his government secrets. But doing so would be impossible without first securing a wife and earning acceptance into the school.

“If it comes down to making a paper mache volcano, I’ll do it.” The determination in Jeongguk’s eyes is unwavering.

“You really expect to get through the admission interview with a fake wife? I can’t even get a single date, but you think you can get married by the end of the month?” Seokjin laughs at the expense of his own heartache.

“Maybe the mommies would like you more if you weren’t so de-looshe-in-ull,” Minji chimes.

Has she been listening all along?

“Delusional?” Seokjin scoffs, fueled with exasperation. Lately, he’s had thoughts about being a kinder person, yet a part of him still believes that he deserves the last word in every conversation. “Where did you learn about that?” he queries, balling up his hands.

“Appa,” Minji replies, pointing at the man in question.

Seokjin winds his fist back as if he’s throwing a punch across the room, but he listens to the screaming voice in the back of his head. The one that tells him he’s much too pretty to get pummeled today ー that his face would look better if Jeongguk’s fist wasn’t imprinted on the surface of it. So instead of starting a fight with a five year old girl, Seokjin folds his knees against his chest, cursing under his breath. Maybe he can be the bigger person.

“So why can’t the agency send another spy operative to play house with you?” Seokjin asks, resorting to a life of civility under Jeongguk’s roof. He forces a smile through gritted teeth and returns his attention to the dating app in the palm of his hands, half-listening to his best friend.

“Well, a bunch of police officers arrested our agents. There’s only a few people left on the team. Haven’t you seen the news? The government is cracking down on espionage.” Jeongguk rolls his eyes, clenching his jaw. “They use women as their scapegoat, filling up some stupid quota for incarceration.” How can men be so ignorant and simple minded?

Ironically, Seokjin flashes his phone in front of Jeongguk’s face. “Swipe left or right, what do you think?” Yep, the minds of men are pretty simple, and Seokjin definitely didn’t hear a single word that came out of Jeongguk’s mouth.

Y/N Daycare teacher at children’s municipal library 1 mile away Critics review: ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ “Loves her emotional support characters, and will only ever love her emotional support characters” “Can’t cook to save her life, but she can top off your ramen with a fried egg” “Pros: loving and down to earth, great with kids. Cons: doesn’t know her own strength, hates mushrooms, has a quirky laugh”

“You know what? I’ll swipe right. You’ll get more matches if you do,” Seokjin suggests with a determined nod.

Jeongguk stares at his informant in disbelief, jaw slack. There’s no way this stupid app is going to land him a wife by the end of the month.

“What do you think about this guy?”

“Hard pass. I mean, look at his photos. His whole personality is about working out.”

“Okay, then what about this one?”

“Nah, he looks too stuck-up. I don’t think he can take a joke.”

“How about her? She’s pretty, right?”

“She doesn’t even have a bio! What if she’s a catfish?”

From the way your coworkers appraise these people, they act as if they’re the ones looking for a partner. Because as a matter of fact, it’s your phone in their hand, swiping away on your dating app.

It doesn’t matter if there are library books that need to be stowed away or paperwork to be filed. They pay no mind to the clock indicating that there’s 30 minutes left in the work day because finding you a significant other seems to be their only priority.

“Sujin, stop being so picky. At this rate, y/n isn’t going to get a date if you swipe left on everyone,” Yumi whines.

“Why did you make a profile for me anyways? I don’t need to be in a relationship.” The sound of your widely unpopular opinion makes the two girls look up with big, round eyes.

“Aren’t you ever lonely?” There’s a hint of pity that lingers in Yumi’s voice.

You find it quite offensive that she would think that. As much as you’d like to keep your job, you would also like to rip the rug out from beneath Yumi’s feet until she falls flat on her face. But the reality is, you really need this job. So all you do is shake your head and grit your teeth. “No, not really.”

“Life is soo much more romantic when you have someone to love.” Sujin’s unblinking eyes make you wonder if she’s being held hostage against her will. Is her boyfriend tapping into her phone, listening to all of her conversations?

“y/n, you’ve never been in a relationship before. Do you ever feel like you’re missing out on something?” There’s a pout that rests on Yumi’s lips. Her tone leaks with faux sympathy. “Hobi just got married, and Nari’s having a baby. We’re all grown up, and I don’t want you to feel left out, especially at my engagement party next weekend. It might bring out some… bitter feelings.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes, reminding yourself that you should definitely not push Yumi down the stairs at the end of your shift. “I think I’ll be content on my own.”

“Here, look through the app for a little while. Maybe you’ll find someone that you like. Just give it a chance, okay?” Sujin hands the phone back to you. “You should really think about it. San tells me he’s been worried about you.”

Your expression falls upon hearing your younger brother’s name. Of all people, San should know that you value nothing more than your independence.

“He just wants you to be happy ー for someone to take care of you.”

Some part of you believes that Sujin is projecting her opinions and throwing your brother under the bus. “I don’t need anyone to take care of me,” you assure her. “I can be happy on my own.”

Nowadays, many people come to believe that a wedding ring is the solution to everyone’s misfortune. Supposedly, it’ll keep you safe from all things cruel in this world. They don’t seem to realize that there are problems that run much deeper than being single. It’s as if something must be inherently wrong with you if you’ve never had a partner, let alone a first kiss.

You have to admit that sometimes, their words can hurt like knives. It’s damaging to your self-esteem if you really think about it. Because surely, everyone wants to be loved and to be desired ー to be chosen. How nice would it be to lie in bed, held and comforted by something other than the warmth of your own body?

If you were to have a relationship, perhaps you could go to bookstores together and read for hours on end. The two of you could laugh and sing at the top of your lungs, dancing like fools in the dim light of the bathroom with toothbrushes tucked between molars. You could listen to ballads on the radio and finally resonate with the lyrics, plastering a goofy, lovestruck smile on your face. If you were in love, you could share childhood memories, and even the mundane details would be tucked away for safekeeping. You’d know one another's biggest fears and greatest vulnerabilities. Even when you reveal the ugliest parts of yourself, they would choose you over and over again.

If there was just one person to run their fingers across all of your curves, your dips, your scars, only to tell you that you are still the object of their affection, then perhaps you would give love a chance.

But having thought about love your entire life, and never yet to experience it, you’re certain that you’re better off on your own. Ever since you were a little kid, it’s always been you, yourself, and your grief. You’ve harbored yourself in your own bones for decades, so who knows you better than you know yourself ー truly and completely unfiltered? With your mind and wit so sharp, who will find you lovable when they discover there’s a blade where your heart is?

If you were to find a partner, there is simply no way that you can continue the life that you have. You could never return to them at the end of the night, bloodied and bruised, with no questions asked. Surely, it’s not an easy pill to swallow when you tell them that you're an assassin. There’s no sugar coating that.

Much like being a daycare teacher, being an assassin is just another job. You started living this secret identity because it earned enough money to take care of your younger brother after your parents had passed away. It put food on the table and cash toward your bills. Money would roll into your bank account by the thousands. At 18 years old, that type of money was unfathomable. But now that San is old enough to take care of himself, there’s really no need to continue this lifestyle.

Yet you pursue the chase because there’s a certain thrill that comes from seeking justice and vigilance. These monsters no longer hide beneath your brother’s bed. Instead, they lurk between the shadows ー among the alleyways and abandoned parts of town. They prey on those who are weak and exploit them for all that they are.

If the law enforcement team is never going to uphold their end of the social contract, you have to be the one to act first and eliminate them. So with every job completed, you can be certain that the world is safer one hit at a time.

But to continue being an assassin, you have to keep this secret under wraps. You’ll be forced to hide under a life of normalcy, as nothing more than a naive and innocent daycare teacher at the local library ー a background character in the story of others. In all honesty, you prefer to keep your secrets tucked away. Because to be loved is to be known, and you simply cannot let that happen.

Some people aren’t made for romance, and maybe you’re one of them. Nobody shall ever hold your heart in their hands without pricking their own flesh.

Despite all that is said and done, some part of you thinks that there’s no harm in checking out the unpromising dating app. Curiosity gets the best of you as you mindlessly swipe through all of the profiles. However, everyone you’ve come across is either too shallow, too arrogant, or too boring.

A defeated sigh slips past your lips until you come across a certain profile. You look closer at the photos, inspecting each one with great care. There are only so many pictures: one of him and his dog, a second one of him shoving a Chicago deep dish down his throat, and another with a young child. Tattoos litter across his sun-kissed skin, and piercings scatter his handsome face ー beautiful in the most unorthodox ways.

His bio reads: “To whom it may concern, I am a single father looking for a wife (DM me for serious inquiries only).”

Have you seen this man before? Could it be… him?

The longer that you stare at his profile, the more concerned you become. At this rate, you’ve created an entire fantasy about a relationship with this stranger, and now you’re planning the dinner menu for your wedding. But there’s no way that you’d actually consider swiping right and messaging him, right? You don’t even want a boyfriend! This man could be joking for all you know.

When the clock strikes the hour, a chime resounds through the air. You shake your head, finally coming to your senses. You slip your device into your pocket, forgetting about the man who lives in your phone.

Jeongguk. His name is Jeongguk.

“Appaaa!” There’s a piercing cry that slices through the air as the little girl begs for her father’s affection. From behind the bookshelves, the curious librarian pokes her head between the gaps to catch a glimpse of the commotion.

“Don’t let go, please, please, pleeease!” The young child slips her tiny hand into her father’s, shaking it back and forth with a sense of urgency.

Jeongguk stands frozen in place. The apples of his cheeks darken into a rosy hue. It’s a little embarrassing to be that parent ー the one who can’t control his child’s outbursts in the middle of a public space, let alone a library, an academic sanctuary that promises peace and quiet.

With a heavy, exhausted sigh, Jeongguk crouches down to meet his daughter’s innocent expression. “Minny, I promise you, I’m not going anywhere. I ask that you give me ten minutes, okay?” His voice is firm and assertive. It’s a little rough around the edges, but it can’t be helped. He speaks in a way that commands attention from the room. This is the only way he knows how to demand respect from his subordinates.

“I just need to pick up a few things. We can go home afterwards, so be a good girl until then,” Jeongguk bargains. “You can go to the playroom, and the nice librarian will take care of you.”

Minji squeezes her tiny hands into fists, and she dies on the inside. Tears form in the corner of her eyes. Even the slightest change in her father’s tone makes her believe that she’s done something wrong. Her worst nightmare flashes before her eyes.

Would her father abandon if she were to misbehave? Or worse, would he dare to return her to the orphanage she was adopted from? What if her biggest fear comes to fruition? After all, it’s not uncommon for parents to realize far too late that kids are too difficult to handle. Then, they’re left hoping and praying for some kind of return policy for their own flesh and blood.

Minji’s eyes become glossy at the thought of it, unlocking a hidden memory from the past, but she refuses to let herself falter underneath his piercing stare. Yet no matter how hard she tries to keep the tears at bay, her emotions get the best of her, and her resolve crumbles into smithereens. After all, she’s only five years old.

It appears that the authoritative approach only works in the combat room, but perhaps not with a five year old girl. So Jeongguk lowers his defenses and drops to his knees. He wipes the tears away with the pad of his thumb, and she sniffles even harder when he comforts her.

There’s something about the little girl’s demeanor that reminds Jeongguk of himself when he was younger. Perhaps it’s the need for her father’s approval ー the desire to please and put others above herself. Maybe it’s her tenacity for standing tall and strong despite the dull ache in her tender heart.

“You can let it all out,” he reaffirms. A beat of silence passes by while he caresses her cheek, allowing the tears to fall. “You ’kay now?”

Minji reluctantly agrees with the slow nod of her head, but she avoids her father’s strong gaze, staring down at her shoes, sullen. When the warmth of her father’s hand disappears, another sniffle racks through her body.

Normally, Minji is never one to throw a tantrum, but what does Jeongguk know? Just when he thought he had a hang of the whole “parenting” thing, he’s thrown into a loop. In spite of Jeongguk’s confident demeanor, he genuinely doesn’t know the first thing about raising a child, let alone a daughter.

In his past ten years of being an undercover spy, he has diffused nuclear bombs and hacked into government files, but nothing has ever prepared him for being a single parent. Yet as a man and a father, he needs to do better. He needs to be better. The least he can do is try.

Jeongguk raises a hand between their bodies, extending his pinky for her to interlock, pledging his vow. “I’ll be back for you in ten minutes, I swear.” He reassures his daughter before planting a kiss on the crown of her head. He crosses his fingers, silently praying that she won’t cry again.

A dribble of snot falls from Minji’s nose. Her eyelashes are soaked. A dramatic hiccup heaves through her tiny, five-year old body.

Jeongguk can feel the venomous judgment of everyone around him. They must think that he’s utterly unfit to be a father, and they would be right.

They would wonder: What kind of child causes a scene in public, screaming, crying, and begging her father not to abandon her? How can he send her to the playroom where there’s nothing but disgusting germs and snotty kids? Is he seriously going to hand off his responsibilities to a total stranger in an underfunded public institution?

They can easily write Jeongguk off as a villain ー a big, scary man with piercings and tattoos. They could hurl accusations at him with no regard as to where they land. All it takes is a quick glance and a first impression (a false one at that). Obviously, they would think he’s someone who’s not built for child rearing because of the slits in his eyebrows and the gel in his hair. There must not be a gentle bone that resides in his big, burly body, but for that, they would be wrong.

The worst part about this whole “father” situation is not necessarily the judgment of others. He is familiar with scrutiny, and he knows it all too well. Rather, it’s that Jeongguk was never particularly fond of having children of his own. Some people are not cut out for fatherhood, and that’s simply the truth of the matter. But that doesn’t mean he won't do his best. He can’t let Minji down. He won’t.

As if Minji could read his thoughts, she raises her arms, begging to be picked up. Her sniffles have long died down.

Jeongguk takes a deep breath before caving into her wishes and hooking an arm around her knees. Minji’s grimy, little hands cling around his neck, and an inaudible, celebratory noise escapes from her lips.

Minji nuzzles her head beneath her father’s chin. She chatters about the incomprehensible things that only five year olds would understand. She is an enigma beyond her father’s own understanding, but he is determined to learn the ins and outs of this child no matter what it takes, even if it kills him.

After Jeongguk had finally dropped Minji off at the library’s playroom, he peruses the non-fiction shelves in search of answers.

How the hell is he going to raise a child?

He thumbs through all of the top-rated parenting books available, skimming through the blurbs, trying to absorb enough information to pass judgment on them. Because if he’s going to follow parenting advice from someone else, they better be successful in their trials. Jeongguk doesn’t want to be the one to fuck up his own child’s brain chemistry.

There’s a sudden tap on his shoulder that helps Jeongguk to escape from the existential dread of fatherhood.

“Excuse me, sir.” A soft voice sounds from behind him. Your breath catches onto the nape of his neck.

“How did this woman sneak up on me without me noticing? Maybe I’m losing my touch.” Jeongguk wonders, shocked by his carelessness. Because from behind, he didn’t hear the fall of a single footstep. The air was still and undisturbed until he felt your presence a moment too late. Normally, he would have surveilled everyone within a mile radius before they could even think about approaching him. But you managed to do it so effortlessly. He’s never met a woman so stealthy.

“I think this belongs to you.” Your voice interrupts his stream of consciousness.

The man before you turns around, and surely, he is a sight for sore eyes 一 a little intimidating to say the least. There’s a silver ring that protrudes from his bottom lip, contrasting against the subtle pink. Even more metal resides against the surface of his skin, a piercing on either side of his eyebrow. There’s a scar that sits on his cheekbone, and you can’t help but wonder how it got there.

You’ve only ever admired this stranger from afar. Most days, he never fails to browse the children’s manhwa section with a talkative child latched onto his leg. Up close, he looks like a tough guy, but the moment he sees his adorable daughter clinging onto your dress, the hard look in his eyes softens. A dimple carves itself into the curve of his cheek.

“Who do we have here?” His typical inflection changes into something slightly more playful. But he uses it to mask his exhausted state.

“Appa, appa! Miss y/l/n is so pretty, don’t you think?” Minji says enthusiastically.

A flame ignites beneath the surface of Jeongguk’s skin. He grows flustered under the little girl’s stare.

Your eyes widen. You’ve never been considered “pretty” by conventional standards. It’s not often that you hear those words, if ever, really.

“Minji, everyone has their own opinions, but you shouldn’t push your beliefs onto someone else,” you begin as a form of damage control. “I’m so sorry, but she ran up to me, saying she lost her father. She seemed so distressed, and I thought she was going to burst into tears if she couldn’t find you.”

Jeon Jeongguk has never known peace before. Minji is just as sneaky and conniving as her father; she’s a filthy liar just like him.

“No, no, it’s okay, don’t apologize. Her attachment issues have grown by the day,” Jeongguk replies, shaking his head. He wears a bashful smile, cheeks tinged with pink. “Minny, do you remember what I taught you?” He crouches down to pick his daughter up by the waist, squeezing her sides.

“Don’t sleep with wet hair otherwise I might get hippo-pot-a-therm-ia?” Minji recalls, butchering the pronunciation.

Jeongguk bites the inside of his cheek, shaking his head. “No, the other thing.”

“Minny doesn’t have to eat anything that she doesn’t want to?”

“I never said that.” A look of disapproval crosses her father’s features.

“Drawing mustaches on sleepy people is wrong unless it’s Seokjin samchon?”

He scrunches his nose, nodding his head from side to side as though he’s contemplating. “Well… yes, but no. Try again. The thing about beauty.”

“Oh! Beauty is something that comes from the inside!” Minji’s eyes light up upon recognition.

“Exactly, it comes from inside.” Jeongguk reminds her. He presses his pointer finger against Minji’s sternum for emphasis. Upon his touch, a sweet giggle falls from her lips.

“But you do think it’s true, don’t you?” Minji asks once again, persistent. “Miss y/l/n is really pretty.”

The blush on his cheeks grow a shade darker. “Minny, of course I think she’s pretty. I thought we talked about this.” Although he lowers his voice like it’s a secret, you can still hear every single word.

Minji giggles to herself, hiding her face behind her hands.

Jeongguk has always known your face, but never your name. “Miss y/l/n, right?”

It sounds odd to hear your title from a grown man, but you laugh it off with a chuckle. “Yeah, that’s what the kids at the daycare call me. It’s just y/n though.”

Jeongguk readjusts his daughter in his arms before reaching for a handshake. “I’m just Jeongguk.” It doesn’t strike how little his name means to him. Of course it’s just an alias for the sake of the mission. He picked it on a whim, but it suits him more than he had thought. Jeon Jeongguk, pillar of the nation. The lie tumbles out of his lips so naturally, and he doesn't have to think twice.

His eyes lower into crescent moons as the corner of his lips curve into a smile, something akin to fondness. A shallow dimple finds its way onto his cheeks.

Dammit. He’s cute.

You reach forward, cupping your hand around his in a reverent greeting. He holds you gently as if there’s a butterfly that had landed on the tip of his fingers. It contrasts against your strong grip.

Observant as ever, Jeongguk notices that there’s no sign of a ring on your hand. He digs through the arsenal of intel that’s locked up inside his brain. Thanks to Seokjin’s sticky fingers, he managed to spend an entire weekend studying the most recent census information, getting to know the profiles of everyone in the city (just in case). There has to be some information about you stored in his head.

“y/n… Where did I see that name before?” He thinks to himself, mentally sifting through all the files he’s read. “Ah, I remember now. File #901: y/l/n, y/n. Never married, never divorced. Orphaned at the age of eighteen. She has one younger brother. Both of them have clean records ー never been in trouble with the police, never even received a speeding ticket.”

“Jeongguk…” you murmur his name as if you’re testing the waters. “I know. I’ve seen you around before.”

Minji might have accidentally let it slip that he’s the man who's been her appa ‘for a very long time.’ She never seemed to mention that she’s adopted. Instead, she continues to describe her father as someone super handsome and very single.

“Really?” Although he’s noticed you plenty of times before, he’s surprised that you recognize him. Jeongguk doesn’t like drawing attention. He supposes that lately, it’s been difficult when his daughter attracts a lot of eyes.

“Most of the time, you wander through the aisles, half-dead like a zombie, with a cup of coffee in your hand.” You lean forward, speaking in a hushed tone. “You really aren’t allowed to bring drinks into the library, but my coworkers let it slide because they think you’re handsome.”

Perhaps you’ve overshared because Jeongguk stares at you blankly, taken aback by the news.

“Here’s another secret.” You beckon him closer once again, speaking barely above a whisper. “You should be careful about reading parenting books. You’ll end up stressed about what to do if it doesn’t work, and you’ll feel like a failure by the end of it.”

His eyes widen in surprise. He had hoped that the parenting books would put an end to his sleepless nights. “What do you think I should do then? I don’t know how to deal with this monster right here.” He ruffles Minji’s hair in endearment.

“Hey!” Minji shouts in defense of herself.

“That’s not to say you shouldn’t read any parenting books. It’s just trial and error,” you shrug. “As much as you don’t want to hear it, there’s really no right answer.”

Jeongguk drops his shoulders, slightly disappointed. The defeated look on his face is a feeling you can sympathize with.

“But if it helps, I think it’s important that children need a little bit of softness every now and then, especially because the world is so cruel.” You flash him a gentle smile, urging him to lighten up on his daughter. He needs to stop pretending that raising a child is anything like the military or the spy academy.

Upon hearing your conversation, there’s a mischievous sparkle that appears in Minji’s eyes. “Miss y/l/n, do you wanna be my eomma?”

You stare blankly at her, blinking as though you are processing her question. The words die on your tongue, yet you cock your head to the side, meeting the little girl’s gaze. “Y- your eomma?” you reiterate, startled.

“Pleaseee? I’m so lonely with no eomma,” Minji pouts, melodramatic as ever. She puts her hand on her forehead as if she’s feigning an illness.

“Jeongguk, do you happen to be looking for a wife?”

“Is this your way of asking me out?” He leans forward, inclined to hear your proposal.

You wonder if this is a bad time to mention his Tinder profile. It could be a little awkward knowing that you’ve also made an account on that wretched app. There’s nothing inherently embarrassing about wanting to find love through modern dating, but why is it so hard to admit it?

You weigh your options in your head, but Jeongguk beats you to it.

“Because if you did 一 ya’ know 一 ask me out, I would have said-” His words are cut short.

“You know what? I’m sorry if I was being too forward-” Mentally, you want to smack yourself on the head.

Jeongguk didn’t mention anything about a girlfriend, let alone a wife. He has no idea that you’ve seen his Tinder before. You never even swiped. You never matched.

After you found his profile, you tucked your phone away and refused to open the app again. The blissful state of not knowing is better than playing the waiting game. Will he swipe, will he not? Will he message you and jumpstart some epic romance?

You decide to tell him the truth and swallow your pride before coming across as a complete weirdo wrapped up in her delusions.

“It’s just that… the other day, my friends made a dating profile for me because they’re worried I’ll be single for the rest of my life. I came across your account, and I thought you looked familiar. So I just wanted to know if you’re actually looking for a wife because I swear, I’ll do it.”

Jeongguk has never been this close to making a breakthrough, and he thinks he’s half in love with you. “Are you being serious?” he wonders as a precaution. “Don’t lie to me because I really need this to be a dream come true right now.”

His daughter reaches forward to pinch his cheeks. Jeongguk winces at the pain, and he’s certain that this moment is real.

“Do you want me to get down on one knee?” Your face is devoid of any banter, eyes fixed on Jeongguk as if you’re genuinely offering yourself to him. “Why do you need a wife? Tax money? Green card? Ex who won’t leave you alone?”

“It’s complicated,” Jeongguk begins.

“Trust me, I know it's complicated when I see it.” There’s a challenging look in your eyes, urging him to continue.

“Well, the other day, Minny passed the entrance exam for Hwa Yang Academy. Now, the board has to conduct an interview with the family, but they said they would want both parents to be there.”

“You can’t tell them that you’re a single father?”

“I think it’ll hurt her chances of getting accepted,” he explains. “I want my daughter to attend a good school. Her late mother would have wanted the same thing for her.”

“Appa said lying is wrong, but he’s so good at it,” Minji thinks to herself.

“Do you really think that I’m fit for the role?” You’ve never really had a penchant for acting or playing pretend. Lying, on the other hand, that is your strong suit.

“I don’t mean to be too forward, but I think you’re perfect.” Jeongguk speaks his truth without any hesitation. He looks at you with such sweet and delicate eyes. “You seem to be great with children, and Minny adores you already.”

You eye him as if you’re considering his offer, but you’ve already made up your mind. “I’ll do it, but only if you do a favor for me too. Are you free next weekend?”

“Next weekend?” Jeongguk raises an eyebrow. It’s starting to make sense why you agreed to do this in the first place. You need something in exchange, quid pro quo.

“My friends are throwing an engagement party. They’re worried about me all the time because I’m single, but I thought I would lay it to rest if I told them I finally had a boyfriend, or at least someone I’m talking to.” Your speech gets faster and faster with every word that comes out of your mouth. “I know it sounds crazy, Iー”

“I’ll do it.”

You stare blankly at him, unsure if you heard correctly, but a smile continues to creep onto the corners of your lips. “You will?”

Jeongguk reaches forward, gently taking your hand in his. “It would be an honor to be your boyfriend,” he says, even if it��s just pretend. “And an even bigger honor to be your husband.”

“y/n!”

You don’t hear your name being called relentlessly until your co-workers are shouting for your attention. Their words fall upon deaf ears.

As usual, they had been gossiping about their boyfriends and their weekend plans. You checked out of the conversation the moment Yumi opened her mouth and uttered her fiancé’s name, resisting the urge to gag.

You look up from your lap, slightly too distracted. There’s a small, maroon stain and a rip in the skirt of your dress. It’s not easy keeping your clothes in pristine condition when you’re constantly running toward danger. You’re lost in thought, wondering how much the tailor shop will charge you for sewing it back together.

“What are you doing this weekend? There’s a new episode of that drama you like, right? Are you going to order delivery again?” Yumi assumes. “You know, you should step outside from time to time. Maybe you’ll find a nice person to date if Tinder doesn’t pan out.”

“Actually, I have plans after work,” you announce before returning to inspect the damage on your dress.

“With who? Did you meet someone on the app?” The cadence of Sujin’s voice is airy, shocked in disbelief.

“I’m meeting up with some guy.” You try not to make it a big deal, but these girls always blow it out of proportion. “I didn’t meet him from the app though.”

“You’re seeing someone? Who?! You can’t just drop the news and expect us not to ask for the details!” Sujin shouts.

“He was at the library the other day, and he asked me out. He’s the one with the tattoos ー y’all would recognize him if you saw him,” you explain. “Minji is his daughter.”

“The guy with the coffee?” Everyone collectively gasps upon connecting the dots. “Him? How did you manage to pull that?!”

Ouch. That hurts.

“I would dump my fiancé in a heartbeat if the coffee guy could blow my back out,” Yumi confesses.

How could she be so shallow? She was just talking about how much she loved her fiancé. Is he really that disposable? Besides, is Jeongguk nothing more than the coffee guy? A pretty face who’s made for a one night stand? You’re starting to think that people don’t actually value their relationships. They just want a partner for the sake of having one.

There’s a sudden chime that resounds through the air, pulling you out of your thoughts. The service bell at the front desk had been struck. It’s odd considering most people exited the library by now, knowing that it closes in ten minutes.

You all poke your head through the doorway to catch a glimpse of the patron. Their eyes widen in surprise when they see the coffee guy standing at the front desk. He stands tall and proud with a military stance, a head above everyone else. There’s a bouquet of pink camellias resting in his hand in place of his typical americano.

“Jeongguk? I thought we were meeting at the cafe.” Perhaps you remembered the details of the conversation wrong.

When you speak his name out loud, all the girls shift their gaze to one another. Could it really be true that you’re seeing a man?

“I thought it would be nice if I could surprise you, and we’d walk there together.” He flashes a smile that sends an arrow straight through the heart (and through those of your coworkers). For a second, you think that Yumi might just faint.

He’s handsome as ever, just as you recall. But today, there’s something that’s slightly out of place. There’s a bandage that rests on the bridge of his nose. It’s pink with Sanrio characters plastered all over it ー Hello Kitty and My Melody. There’s something about it that makes him even more endearing.

You try to stifle a giggle as you shoot him an apology. “Sorry, can you hang around for a few more minutes? I have some things to do before closing.”

“Take your time, angel.” Jeongguk says. Crinkles begin to form at the corner of his eyes as the curve of his lips overtake him.

You have to admit that the pet name made your heart flutter. He plays into the role of a sweet boyfriend pretty accurately. It’s all part of the act.

Sujin closes the door to the office. The girls break into squeals. They playfully hit your shoulder in disbelief, elbowing your sides. “I can’t believe it! y/n is going out with a man?!”

“And he’s hot!”

You shake your head before returning to your work station, ignoring their cheers. But you can’t help the subtle smile that reaches your lips. Maybe the girls will finally leave you the fuck alone.

“I’m so sorry for the wait.” You apologize as you approach Jeongguk, looking like a disheveled mess after an 8 hour shift. Your blouse is slightly wrinkled, and you’re certain there’s residue left behind from all the marker stains the kids had carelessly drawn on you. Your arm is full of stickers, and you’ll have to remember to peel them off later.

In the daycare, Jeongguk is propped on top of a bean bag chair that is much too small for his body. There’s a manhwa that rests in his lap. It’s the one his daughter can’t stop talking about.

“I got here ten minutes early anyways.” He places the book on the table before clambering to his feet. “Oh yeah, and these are for you.” He passes the bouquet of camellias.

You raise your hands, not really sure how to accept the gift. You’re not the type of girl to receive flowers, love poems, or pretty things. Nobody has ever pursued you in that way. All you ever receive are cursory glances and awkward smiles, but never anything as beautiful as this.

He inches the flowers a little closer to you, urging you to take it.

You pull the bouquet to your nose, taking a whiff of the sweet scent. “These are really pretty. Thank you for that.” You motion for him to wait just a moment longer as you place the flowers into a vase.

Through the porthole of the office door, you can see the girls squeal and jump around in unison.

“Are you ready? Should we head out?” Jeongguk’s lips curl into a boyish smile.

You nod, sharply turning your heels in an attempt to hide the fluster of your face. Before you could take a step forward, you’re pulled to a halt. There’s a tug on your arm that spins you around. Jeongguk’s fingers wrap around your wrist, pulling you close.

“Wait one sec,” his breath fans across your face. “You have some chalk on your cheek. Can I-?” He raises his hand, tentatively learning forward.

Heat rushes to the surface of your skin, yet you nod your head, giving into his request. “Is this part of the act?” you wonder out loud, low enough for Jeongguk to hear.

“Only if you want it to be.” His deep voice sends a shiver down your spine.

As he leans forward to wipe the dust off your cheek, your throat dries. You freeze, attempting to avoid his gaze. You’re not certain whether you’ll explode upon gazing into his dark brown eyes.

Instead, you keep your sight locked straight ahead. It’s a terrible idea considering his strong chest is right in front of you. The top two buttons of his white collared shirt are undone, and the space between his pecs are exposed, a necklace dangling in between. There’s a chance that you might die staring at it, so you accept the risk of embarrassing yourself and glance at his visage instead.

“There’s my pretty girl,” Jeongguk says, dusting off the chalk.

A wave of butterflies swarm in the pit of your stomach, and your mind goes blank. You have no idea how to respond to such a compliment, and you’re unable to when your throat constricts. Your body warms, hyper aware of his palm on your cheek and the one wrapped around your wrist. Your one free hand that is not occupied by his clasp shoots up, hovering over the bandage plastered on his nose.

“What happened here?” The words splutter out of your mouth, trying to say something. Anything. Perhaps your anxiety would be less noticeable if you could just act natural ー If you could stop standing there without a single thought in your head.

“Bumped into a wall,” Jeongguk chuckles. It’s a blatant lie. He could never be this clumsy. In actuality, he had failed to duck during a sparring match with another spy at the agency. Fuck Kim Mingyu and his stupidly beefy arms. “Minny picked the bandage for me.”

“You mean you didn’t choose to wear the Hello Kitty? I think it suits you.” As soon as you graze the bridge of his nose, his laughter turns into a dramatic groan. Soft murmurs of ‘ow, ow’ fall from his lips.

“‘m sorry, ‘m sorry!” You apologize.

His other hand gently grasps your palm, pulling it away from his sprained injury. Maybe your dating profile was right when it mentioned you don’t know your own strength.

“Don’t worry, let’s just hope that Minny is okay,” Jeongguk remarks. “She insisted on wearing a matching bandaid because ‘if appa’s hurt, then Minny’s hurt.’ Kind of like a voodoo doll.”

Subconsciously, the thought of Minny wearing a matching bandage despite being perfectly fine forces your lips into a smile.

“Should we head out now?” Jeongguk leans closer, voice barely above a whisper. “Can I hold your hand? Give your friends a real show to watch?” It’s as if your hand wasn’t already in his.

You nod your head, suddenly remembering that this is all an act. You’re reminded of the girls crowded around the office door, peeking through the small window to catch a glimpse of the action.

Jeongguk’s hand glides down from your palm and between your fingers, lacing them together. A breath hitches in your throat, and you have to remind yourself to breathe. You can hear the high pitched screams from behind when the girls are convinced you’ve stepped far away enough. But it isn't as loud as the sound of your heart beating out of your chest.

The two of you make your way to the cafe, walking side by side, hand-in-hand, occasionally bumping shoulders when you walk a little too close.

“How was your day? I realized I never asked you what you do for work, and I don’t really know much about you in general,” you chuckle, slightly embarrassed. “I thought we would at least have our first kiss by now if we were married.” There’s a hint of sarcasm in your tone, one that Jeongguk easily recognizes because his informant, Seokjin, is nothing but shits and giggles.

“We would have done more than kissing, but we can start slow.” The corners of his lips curl into a playful grin. His words make you freeze, but it doesn’t seem to faze him.

With your hands linked together, Jeongguk is pulled back by your halted movements. He turns to face you, displaying his pretty eye-smile. “I’m a journalist,” he says. “I write investigative articles when they don’t ask me to cover silly politics.”

Although it’s not completely true, it’s not totally false at the same time. He writes exposé articles based on the intel he uncovers from his spy missions. The articles that he writes are written under an anonymous name, obviously so he can’t be tracked for exposing highly classified information. Nobody should ever know that he’s digging into the lives of corrupt politicians. Jeongguk might never see the light of day if word gets out.

“My routine is pretty consistent,” he explains. “I did some research for my article, wrote a few thousand words in my drafts before deciding to scrap the entirety of it, and I picked up Minny from kindergarten. I asked my friend to babysit her while I’m away tonight.”

Jeongguk wants to scrub his tongue after admitting that Seokjin is his “friend.”

“What about you? How’s your life at the library?” Jeongguk asks.

You describe the events that spiraled today as the two of you head inside the coffee shop and place your orders. “Well, the girls seemed convinced that we’re on a date,” you chuckle.

Jeongguk gasps. His hand clenches against his chest as if he’s wounded by your words. “You mean to tell me this isn’t a date? I thought we had something special.” He feigns exasperation. “You are my wife, after all, aren’t you?”

You don’t care to admit how amusing it is to hear the word wife coming from him. Despite the smile that plays on your lips, you shake your head no.

“This isn’t a real date,” you explain in denial. Nobody has ever asked you out, and you’ll be damned if the first time is just pretend. “But I guess this is good practice, especially when the stakes are higher for the interview.”

“Hmm… practice.” A crinkle forms between Jeongguk’s brows, lost in thought.

“I have to admit that I don’t have a lot of experience with dating, and that’s why we have to practice.” You shake your head, flustered. “Actually, I’ve never even been in a relationship.”

“Why’s that?” He asks the age-old question.

“I’m not really the type that people fall for.” You tuck your head between your shoulders, offering a shrug. “I’m quiet ー Not really good with people. I’m a bit of a late bloomer. I spent a lot of my youth taking care of my younger brother.” That’s only the jist of it. You don’t bother getting into the nitty gritty details. Being a full-time assassin isn’t necessarily “first-date appropriate” conversation.

“How many partners have you had?” You bounce back, diverting the attention away from you.

“Just one, my wife who passed. We had been together since we were in high school.” The lie seeps through his teeth so easily. It’s terrifying. But the less you know, the better.

The thought of being Jeongguk’s first “girlfriend” since the passing of his wife makes you incredibly nervous. Upon seeing the sullen avoidance in his eyes, you don’t bring it up again. Instead, you try to lighten the mood.

The two of you fall into a routine of volleying questions back and forth. If you’re planning to convince everyone that you’re husband and wife, you’re going to have to know more than just one another’s (supposed) names and (supposed) professions.

You start with the easy stuff. “Where did you grow up?”

“Busan. I miss the sound of the ocean, but I don’t mind the city as long as Minny goes to the best school in the country. What about you?”

“I grew up in a town so small you wouldn’t be able to find it on the map, but it’s not far from the capital.”

“Cryptic, I like it.” A grin forms onto the corners of lips before he takes a sip of his coffee.

Over the next hour, you learn that Jeongguk, as robust and intimidating as he looks, is warm and gentle. His favorite thing about being a father is having someone to love and protect. To him, Minji is a bundle of joy who makes his day brighter despite the hurdles that come with being a parent. He would do anything in the world to give his child the life he never quite had.

Likewise, having lost his parents at a young age, he learned to lead a fulfilling life all on his own. Instead of letting it bog him down, he clings onto the simple things for respite, searching for happiness in every corner of the universe.

He loves the rain and how it fleetingly smells like the warm and muggy summers of his hometown. Although he doesn’t experience the monsoon season quite like he used to, he loves to watch Minji splash around in her yellow rain boots. His favorite time of day is golden hour, especially when the fluffy white clouds are tinted with orange hues, reminding him of his first dog, Gureum.

Jeongguk has a slight addiction to black coffee, even if it makes his stomach hurt on the odd occasions (and you suggest he tries tea instead). He likes his eggs scrambled, and he prefers waffles over pancakes. He has plenty of awful habits like singing karaoke at four in the morning followed by cooking a pot of instant ramen to satiate his brutal cravings (yes, his food preferences are vital to your understanding of who Jeongguk is as a person, down to his core).

He tells you about his trip to Chicago some months ago where he definitely deepthroated a deep dish pizza after being dared by Seokjin. As much as he loved traveling, he was easily home-sick and desperately missing his fix of samgyeopsal. In fact, he tells you he would love to invite you over one day so he can make you a meal. And thank God for that because you are not handy in the kitchen whatsoever.

You learn that not necessarily all of his tattoos have meaning. The tiger is an emblem of his country while the tiger lily is his birth flower, and it is a silent, desperate plea to be loved. There’s a silly emoji on his middle finger just because he thinks it’s funny. He hates having to cover it up when he goes to work (tattoos may not have been the smartest idea knowing that he has to keep his identity a secret, but the damage is already done), and he’s certain that everybody judges him for the ink on his arms.

“As long as you like your tattoos, it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks.” You offer him a warm smile as though nothing could ever hurt him. God, how he wishes that was true.

For some reason, Jeongguk doesn’t know how to react to your words. He’s only ever been told to cover up his skin as if he has something to be ashamed of.

In exchange for his stories, you trade Jeongguk pieces of your life. How your favorite memory from youth was when you had taken the city bus an hour and a half down to the beach with your brother, San, where you’d build sand castles on the brink of collapse. Sometimes, the smell of salt air and the longing for August still lingers to this day.

You tell him about your attempt at joining the knitting club so you could make cute sweaters and vests. They were never perfect. But at least they kept your brother warm during the winters. Besides, you had fun playing dress-up with him. Jeongguk finds that perhaps the boldest thing you’ve ever done is bleach your hair strawberry blonde, only for it to turn out orange.

His laughter blooms through his chest when you tell him about the time you almost set the microwave on fire. Your mom never told you that aluminum foil doesn’t belong in there, and you had to learn that the hard way. That’s probably why you should never set foot in the kitchen again. Nevertheless, you made mistake after mistake just so that San could have food on the table everyday after school. At least you’ve perfected the art of cutting fruit at this point ー no cooking skills required.

Although the two of you talk for what seems like hours, you can’t help but think there’s so much more to this man, and he’s unwilling to share. It doesn’t necessarily bother you because you, too, have secrets of your own. You can’t expect him to reveal everything about his life, even if he never does.

It’s well into the evening when Jeongguk walks you home. The path is quiet. It’s illuminated by the dim light of the street lamps. It feels like a scene from a movie you’ve once watched ー the origin of all your teenage fantasies. But this is real. You’re just a girl, standing in front of a boy, and that’s where it all begins.

“y/n?” The way he says your name brings you to a halt. His voice, although usually confident, is timid and uncertain. “I’ll see you tomorrow, right? We still have a lot to talk about.” He looks at you with stars in his eyes, although none of them belong to you, and they could never be yours.

Your lips press together in a tight line, nodding your head in affirmation. As you bid your goodbyes, you wonder if it would be inappropriate to give him a hug. After all, you’ve only just met the day prior, and this is nothing but pretend. Yet how will you ever grow accustomed to the touch of your husband?

Your arms remain crossed over your chest. You look down at your shoes, kicking a loose pebble at the front of your door, contemplating.

But he reaches for your hand, lightly grasping around your fingers. You jolt back as if he set your nerves aflame. Your gaze lifts toward his eyes, but it quickly lowers as Jeongguk descends down to one knee.

Your heart pounds against your chest, and you pray that he cannot hear it.

“I’m sorry I don’t have a proper ring…” He begins. “I hope you can accept this for now, and I swear I’ll get a diamond on your hand one day ー As big as you want.”

Jeongguk carefully pulls a small metal band from his pocket. It can easily be confused for the end piece of a keychain ー perhaps it’s something that his daughter had left behind in his coat, never to be remembered. But for Jeongguk, he knows perfectly well that it’s the pin from a grenade he had tossed the week prior on an escape mission. He slides the ring onto your finger, and although it is slightly too large, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“I may not have been your first choice of a partner, and for all I know, I could have been dead last, but thank you for sticking by me. I swear I’ll take care of you. I’ll hold your heart with gentle hands, and I won’t ever let it break.”

After all, this is just pretend.

But for some reason, his voice sounds so earnest, and you almost believe him. To be frank, you never really cared about lavish weddings and seven carat diamonds. If you were to ever look for a companion, all you could ask for is an honest partner.

Too bad Jeon Jeongguk is anything but that.

Throughout the next week, you spend more and more time getting to know your new “boyfriend.” Because of this, you have to put your side hustle on pause and constantly decline assignments on your burner phone. You certainly wouldn’t want Jeongguk to overhear your plans to murder while he sits pretty beside you, waiting to hear about your day ー your hopes, your dreams, and anything else that’s on your mind. But it would be a shame if you cut your dates early, only to spend less than a second to put a bullet through your enemies’ heads.

You’d have much more fun with Jeongguk instead. Because he tends to plan the cutest surprise dates, and they’re so incredibly thoughtful. Sometimes, Minji would accompany your dates when Seokjin can’t babysit (he’s too busy trying to find his own baby mama so he can prove Minji wrong). Nevertheless, Minji adores the time that you spend together because it feels like you’re a real family.

The three of you would drive to the movies, play boardgames, and eat ice cream for dinner. Jeongguk had even taken you both to the annual carnival that you desperately wanted to check out. He wasn’t fond of going because those claw machines and arcade games are absolute scams! Yet you caught the smug grin on his face when he finally won a stuffed bunny after downing fifty bucks. He was just so addicted to the thrill of nearly winning: “I could have gotten that!”

During your dates, you would laugh for hours on end, but by the end of the night, Minji would fall asleep on her father’s shoulder. That’s usually your cue to head home. Sometimes, you think that he might kiss you goodnight, but he never does. His lips only ever brush your knuckles like the gentleman that he is.

…

True to his word, Jeongguk invites you over for dinner the following Friday.

When you arrive at his apartment, you are instantly the worst houseguest known to mankind. Your umbrella is dripping wet from the pouring rain, effectively ruining Jeongguk’s wooden floors. However, that’s not the problem that Jeongguk has with you. The problem is that you’re unable to stop laughing at Jeongguk’s attire.

Surely, your parents had taught you to be kind, especially to your hosts. Well, when Jeongguk swings the door open, revealing a frilly apron, something akin to what your grandmother would wear, you couldn’t help it! A picture of My Melody is stamped onto the chest, staring straight into your soul.

It isn’t lost on you ー the irony of a big, strong man, no doubt subjected to dress up in his daughter’s choice of clothing.

“Don’t laugh at me,” Jeongguk pouts, tilting his head like a puppy.

You stifle your giggle behind a tight lipped smile, but you’re so close to bursting at the seams. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

After placing your shoes at the door, Jeongguk leads you into his humble abode. He takes the bottle of chardonnay from your hands, thanking you for the gift, and places it onto the dining table.

“Dinner should be ready in an hour,” he informs you.

“I know I’m not very useful in the kitchen, but if you need help-”

Before you can even think about lifting a finger, Jeongguk is quick to suggest an alternative. “No, don't worry, you’re my guest. Just relax, okay? Minny is in the living room. You should spend time with her.”

In the adjacent room, Minji is crouched over her study material. Her worksheets spread across the coffee table. Each question covers a different subject: basic biology, political science, religion and ethics, foreign language, etc. You never quite realized how much pressure children face in the education system.

After all, you were never really concerned with grades. You never thought about applying to the top school in the nation. In fact, your grades had fallen down a slippery slope by the time you were in high school. Rather, all of your time was dedicated to earning money and supporting your family.

When you sit beside Minji, she beckons you closer before you can even greet her. “I’m dying. Help me,” she pleads with wide eyes. You look down to see her math homework ー fractions, Minji’s sworn enemy.

“Appa wants me to study, but he won’t give me the answers,” Minji whines.

You can’t help but chuckle. “Minny, you have to figure out the answers on your own if you want to do well.”

The sound of your advice makes her drop her head on the table with a soft thump.

“Here, let’s do a few questions together,” you suggest.

Try as you might, you only manage to complete half of the assignment. Minji huffs, slightly frustrated when she doesn’t understand the concept.

You pat her back, consoling the small child. “Once you eat dinner, you’ll have more brain energy. Maybe you just need a break.”

A lightbulb goes off above her head, and she springs to her feet. “Appa! Can I give eomma a tour of the house?”

You tilt your head, amused by the sound of Minji calling you her mother.

“That sounds like a great idea!” Jeongguk cranes his neck to peek at his devious daughter. “Just make sure you study again when you’re done.”

Minji takes her father’s approval as a cue to grab your hand in hers, showing you every corner of the house ー all of her drawings taped to the fridge, her favorite stuffed animals lined up at the end of the bed, and the sparkly clean toilet where she poops every morning. After describing everything in excruciating detail, you could have sworn that Minji would run out of words to say. But she never does.

“What’s behind that door?” You point to the end of the hall.

“That’s appa’s bedroom. He told me I should never go in there unless he gives me permission.”

You suppose it’s healthy to set boundaries between you and your child. It’s not like Jeongguk has distasteful art hanging on his walls, and it’s not likely that he’s hiding a dead body in there. He doesn’t seem to be the type to store skeletons in the closet. You, on the other hand, now that’s a different story. Perhaps Jeongguk just needs a little privacy at the end of every night.

Minji’s voice breaks you out of your reverie. “Eomma! This is your room! Well, it’s a guest room, but appa says it’s basically yours if you ever want a place to stay.”

You step into the final room, glancing around the walls at a loss of words. Your eyes are drawn to the shelves. They’re brimming with so many novels. It’s like your own personal library. You could probably spend the entire day just browsing through each book.

As you slide open one of the drawers, you’re surprised to find an array of period products. There are also makeup wipes, an abundance of face masks, some sunscreen, and essential oils (apparently, women love that sort of stuff according to an article Jeongguk had bookmarked). There’s even a candle that’s labeled ‘ocean breeze.’

“Do you like it?” Minji looks up at you with wide, glimmering eyes as she uncaps the candle, shoving her entire nose against the wax with a hard whiff.

“I love it, Minny, thank you for the tour. I really appreciate it. You should get back to your studies. I’ll help your dad with dinner, but if you need my help, just call me, okay?”

Minji sniffles theatrically and drags her feet into the living room.

You head towards the kitchen to find Jeongguk slicing a daikon radish with military precision. There’s soft music playing in the background, accompanied by the pouring rain outside, occasionally interrupted by the soft huff of frustration when Jeongguk’s bangs cover his eyes. The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up to his elbows, revealing his strong forearms covered in tattoos.

Jeongguk finally looks up at you in the doorway. He flashes you a smile ー delighted, and very much enamored. “How was the tour?”

“Your home is so cozy. But I don’t know if I was supposed to look at the top secret file you forgot to put away.”

“I- WHAT?” He yelps. The shock on his face is quickly replaced with an acute pain. The knife had sliced through his palm upon one careless motion.

“Oh, fuck,” he mutters under his breath, ensuring that Minji won’t hear his foul language.

Jeongguk drops the radish onto the cutting board with a thud. He forces pressure onto the wound with the pad of his thumb to stop the bleeding. In actuality, he’s more concerned about the food than he is about his finger.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” You rush over to his side, reaching for his wrist. “Let’s run it under cold water.”

The two of you waddle towards the small sink, attached by the hip.

“I was kidding about the secret files. I’m sorry about the cut.” You’re ridden with guilt, seeing that your mindless joke had cost Jeongguk his hand.

“No, no, you don’t have to apologize. It was my fault. I was the one holding the knife.”

You shake your head. “Don’t blame yourself either. It happens. I get cuts all the time.” If there’s ever a blade against your skin, it’s usually by the hands of your enemies. You, on the other hand, are a pro when it comes to handling knives.

Jeongguk shuts the faucet off, examining the cut. It’s shallow. You could hardly see it.

“I’ll grab a bandaid for you,” you offer, already sprinting down the hallway.

“They’re in the bathroom! Medicine cabinet!” Jeongguk shouts.

“I know! Minny gave me a tour of everything,” you shout back. You pluck the ointment and the familiar Hello Kitty bandages off the shelf before shuffling back to the kitchen. “Minny shared way too much information about the inventory of your medicine cabinet. Apparently, you have two morphine capsules left. You should get a refill on those.”

Jeongguk hums in recognition, and you wonder why he would need a painkiller as strong as morphine.

Taking Jeongguk’s hand in yours, you assess the cut and gently blow on the appendages with the purse of your lips. You place the pink bandage onto his hand, and out of habit, you give him a quick kiss on the booboo.

When you pull back, you’re absolutely mortified. You avoid his gaze, trying to hide your own humiliation. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to do that. The kids at the daycare always ask for a kiss when they’re injured.”

“It’s okay, I understand.” A rosy hue dusts over Jeongguk’s cheeks. Why is he so shy when he’s usually the bold and courageous one? He’ll be sure to call Seokjin tonight to ask what this means ー to be so flustered and afflicted by your touch. Is his skin supposed to feel like it’s on fire?

With the look on his face, you’re not quite sure who’s more embarrassed. So you run towards the sink and nervously wash your hands, practically rubbing the skin raw.

“I’ll cut the radish for you.” You take his place by the cutting board.

When he asks if you’re sure, you just hum in response, having already started, and he succumbs to your offer. Typically, Jeongguk would not be willing to accept anyone’s help. But there’s warmth and sincerity in your tone.

“Let me tie this for you.” Jeongguk steps behind you, lightly brushing your hair back to keep it out of your eyes.

Heat rushes to your face, and you nod in agreement. Instantly, Jeongguk separates your hair into three different strands.

“You know how to braid?” you ask, chopping away at the radish. “You can just tie a simple ponytail if you want.”

“Minny said she wanted to go to school with a French braid. I didn’t know how to do it, so I looked at a video online. I’m not that good, but let me practice, okay?” He ties off your hair with the elastic that he keeps on his wrist for standby. “Tadaaa!” A proud grin sits on his pretty lips.

You can tell that the braid is a little too loose for your liking, but you’ll be sure to show him how to properly braid later. Perhaps after dinner. “How does it look?” You wonder.

“You’re perfect,” Jeongguk says affirmatively, sweet as ever. “Here, let me give you an apron.”

Before you know it, he loops a string of fabric over your head. It sits loosely on the back of your neck. Jeongguk’s hand rests on your shoulder blade, pushing your hips against the counter as he reaches to tie the string around the small of your back. He fixates on the knot that tethers around his thick fingers as he works on the fabric. His breath is hot against your neck. You can feel the heat radiate off of him.

When he pulls back, you swallow the lump in your throat, sighing a breath of relief. “Thanks,” you murmur.

The worst part is that Jeongguk doesn’t even realize the effect that he has on you. You wonder when he’ll put an end to this madness. Because at this rate, you think you might explode if he inches any closer to you.

As it seems, fate has other plans.

While he watches you cook, he hovers behind you; not because he’s controlling, but because he wants to make sure you’re safe. He has to admit that you’re skilled with a knife, but your cooking techniques aren’t quite there.

“When you cut, curl your fingers and tuck your knuckles underneath them.” Jeongguk inches closer and places his chin on the crown of your head. He slots himself against your back as his protective arms cage you against the marble counter. His hands slide down from your wrist, careful not to startle you, before cupping them around your fingers. He gently guides your hand, ensuring that you don’t cut yourself.

You don’t realize that you’ve been holding your breath until he steps away. Maybe cooking isn’t as bad as you make it out to be.

The heavy downpour of rain patters against the windows.

“It looks like the weather is getting worse. I didn’t realize it would storm tonight,” Jeongguk peeks between the blinds before lighting a few candles. The lamps had been flickering because of the torrential rain. “The roads aren’t very safe. If you want to stay over, you can take the guest room.”

You nearly drop the cutlery on the table in the midst of setting up dinner. “Ar- are you sure? I don’t want to be a bother.”

“Stop with that, you’re never a bother,” he reassures you. “If you want, I’ll drive you home first thing tomorrow morning.”

You think about the invitation before ultimately deciding to accept. “Thank you, Jeongguk. And by the way, I really appreciate how you set the room up for me.” You shoot him a grateful smile.

“Anything for my wife.” The warmth of his words makes your heart flutter.

When the table is finally set, the three of you settle down for dinner.

You bite the inside of your cheek as you stare at the beautiful arrangement of food you have yet to touch. There’s tender pork belly, fermented shrimp, spicy oyster radish, fresh garlic, and pickled cabbage among a bunch of other side dishes you can’t even put a name to.

“You said you were hungry, right?” Jeongguk picks up the cabbage leaf and stuffs the ingredients inside. He wraps it into a roll and places it on top of your fluffy white rice.

Watching the steam rise in front of you, you nearly bawl from how delicious it smells. The tears threaten to spill from the corners of your eyes.

Nobody has ever made you a home-cooked meal since your parents had passed.

“Are you- uhm,” Jeongguk lifts his hand, not knowing what to do with his own limbs. A set of chopsticks rests between his thumb and pointer finger, fish cake tucked between the silver metal. It hovers halfway across the table, abruptly stopping before he could reach your bowl. “You can cry, it’s okay-”

You don’t dare to move a single muscle when the tear falls down your cheeks.

Minji reaches over to wipe the droplet away. You can’t tell if she wants to comfort you, or rather, she’s just looking to steal a bite of your pork belly. But you’re inclined to believe it’s the former. Her father had already served a piece of meat in her bowl.

“It’s okay, eomma. You can cry. Just… don’t do it over the dishes. You don’t want your food to be salty,” Minji advises.

Jeongguk calls his daughter’s name, scolding. He plucks out a few tissues from the box and passes them across the table.

You wipe your eyes, praying that the tears will stop. “I’m sorry, I’m fine,” you shake your head. “I just don’t really remember the last time I had a home-cooked meal with anyone other than myself. I think my parents were the last people to ever cook for me.”

“What about your brother?” Jeongguk inquires.

“I’ve always made food for him growing up, and ever since he went to university, he’s been away from home. I really haven’t seen him in a while.” A sullen smile tugs on your lips. “We usually just talk on the phone.”

Jeongguk topples more food onto your bowl, filling it to the brim. “Whenever you come over, you can have any kind of food that you want. Just name it, and it’ll be yours. Even if I don’t know how to make it, I’ll learn. Now let’s eat up, okay?” He picks up a piece of pork belly, prepared to bribe you like a child who hasn’t stopped crying.

You open your mouth, allowing him to feed you, humming in satisfaction. You mutter a thank you before putting on your bravest smile as the rain pours outside.

It’s late in the night when you hear a soft sniffle that echoes from the other side of the bedroom door, followed by a dull strike against the wooden surface, a call for your attention.

“Eomma?”

It never takes you by surprise when a child who isn’t yours calls you their mother. It happens often enough at the daycare center. Tiny humans let the term of endearment slip from their loose lips ー some variation of “mom,” “mommy,” or “eomma.”

These children cry for you when they have trouble opening their chocolate milk, or when they get a “booboo” from their arts and crafts activity, nothing but a measly, barely-there papercut. These children have an understanding that they’re safe with you. That you’d take care of them like a mother would, opening their bottles, helping to clean their mess, kissing their pain away, and wiping the tears dry. Sometimes they don’t notice their honest mistake, having called you their mother. Other times, they’re apologetic and embarrassed. But what’s there to be embarrassed about?

The vocabulary of children is limited to only a few hundred words, but they always resort to the one thing they know. Whether it is, “mom,” “mommy,” “eomma,” or so on and so forth, they trust you in the purest form. They feel protected and comforted by you.

Although you’ve heard it a dozen times before, you’ve never seen a child mean it so earnestly, not like Minji, and definitely not at two in the morning.

You open the bedroom door, looking down to see her tear stained cheeks. The instinct to protect kicks in like second nature. “Minny, what’s wrong?”

Lightning flashes through the sky, followed by a loud crash of thunder. The little girl flinches with a yelp, squeezing her eyes shut, pressing her hands against her ears.

“It’s so loud, ‘m scared,” Minji pouts.

You crouch down to wrap your arms around her shoulders, whispering sweet nothings into her ear. She shivers in your hold, trying to calm down as you rub soothing circles onto her back.

“Don’t worry, Minny. The thunder can’t catch you while you’re in here,” you murmur, adjusting the nightcap on the top of her head. “You’re always safe with me.”

“Can I sleep with you and appa tonight?” Minji asks.

“Th- the both of us?” Your eyes widen. Perhaps Minji doesn’t quite understand the terms of your arrangement. You’re not actually her mom, and Jeongguk isn’t really your husband. Certainly, sleeping in the same bed as Jeongguk crosses some imaginary boundary. “I- I don’t know if appa would-”

“Can we ask him?” Minji pleads, and she looks like she’s about to burst. It doesn’t hurt to try, right?

So you relent, and the two of you tiptoe down the hall to Jeongguk’s bedroom, hand-in-hand. There’s a light that leaks from the bottom of the doorway. Could he possibly be awake this late in the night?

You motion at the door, encouraging Minji to knock. She has to be a big girl, expressing her needs, asking for help when she needs it.

“Appa!” Minji whacks the palm of her hand against the wooden surface, and you have to correct her form. You squeeze her hands into a fist, showing her how to properly knock and urge her to try again.

On the other side, you can hear the shuffle of papers and the sound of wheels scraping against the linoleum floor, followed by the pad of footsteps. The door swings open, revealing a set of sleepy eyes, shrouded behind a pair of glasses. Jeongguk’s hair is disheveled, having run his hands through his overgrown mane a million times (he’s been pondering whether he should cut it, but you’ve shyly expressed how he looks handsome either way, and right now is no exception).

“Appa, can I sleep with the both of you tonight?” Minji hiccups between sniffles, and a tear treads down her cheek. When a crash of thunder sounds through the air, she lurches forward to wrap her arms around her father’s legs, shaking like a leaf.

Jeongguk pats the top of Minji’s head to comfort her. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

“The sky,” Minji shakes her head, pressing her face deeper into her father’s thigh. “Too loud. It’s scary. Wanna sleep with you and eomma.”

Normally, Jeongguk would be stressed, weighing his options, trying to determine the best course of action for his child. But there’s a sigh of relief that slips from his lips when his gaze meets yours. There’s a deep blush that spreads across his cheeks. “Is this okay with you?” His lips move in silence, mouthing the words, only for you to see.

In response, you nod your head and flash him a concerned smile. “You?” You mouth the words right back.

Jeongguk’s answer is obvious when he wraps his arms around the little girl and lifts her into the air. “Let’s go to sleep, Minny.”

Jeongguk taps his chin, pondering, as he stares at the little girl sandwiched in the center of his bed. “Something doesn’t feel right.” But there’s an unmistakable glimmer in his eyes. As tired as he is, he doesn’t seem to let it show. “You know what we should do?”

Before you can respond, he’s already darting out of the bedroom. He stumbles into the living area, grabbing all the mismatched furniture that he can find. There’s a coat rack in one hand and a stool in another. He runs to grab a fishing pole from the closet, one that he had stolen from Seokjin and never returned.

“What’re you doing?” Your brows furrow, confused. But the smile on your face tells him that you’re thoroughly entertained.

“We’re building a fort! Come help me!” He takes hold of your hand and leads you into the living room. “Here, take as many pillows as you can.” Instantly, he holds out a stack of cushions. And who are you to say no?

With your inventory in hand, you run back to Jeongguk’s bedroom and plop them down onto the bed. “Minny, put the pillows wherever you want! Make it comfy for yourself.”

The three of you get to work, constructing a pillow fort, and suddenly, you’re five years old all over again.

Jeongguk returns with spare bed sheets and throw-blankets, tenting them over the makeshift poles. When you’re finally satisfied with your fort, the two of you climb onto the mattress on either side of Minji, huffing and puffing from all the energy exerted.

“That was fun,” you say, exasperated. A beat of silence passes by as you catch your breath. “Thank you again for letting me sleep over, by the way.”

There’s fondness in Jeongguk’s eyes as he turns to look at you. “I hope you know that you can stay as long as you want, and you’re always welcomed whenever.” His sentiment makes your heart beat a little faster. “I told you I’d take care of you.”

“You should know…” As you stare at the roof of the makeshift fort, you try to make sense of how you ended up here. It doesn’t feel real. It doesn’t feel like you deserve it. “Taking care of me is more trouble than it’s worth.”

Jeongguk’s voice is stern and relentless. “It’s not trouble. Not if it’s you. Do you really think I scare so easily?”

You think you might cry, but you’ve already used up more than enough tears from your daily allowance. So you turn to thank him, only to be met with Jeongguk’s half-lidded eyes. He only hums in response ー there’s no need to thank him.

His face is illuminated by the faint glow of the desk lamp on the other side of the room, the one he abandoned in favor of lulling his precious daughter to sleep. Minji holds her father’s hand while you stroke her hair. Within a few short minutes, she’s sound-asleep. The room is quiet, save for her soft snores.

“Poor Minny, I hope that this doesn’t ruin her sleep schedule,” you whisper into the night.

“She might need a nap tomorrow, but that’s okay. It happens sometimes.” Jeongguk lets out a yawn as he tugs the blankets up his shoulders.

You remind him with gentle caution, “What about you? You shouldn’t sleep so late.”

“I know, I know.” He presses his palms against his eyes, utterly exhausted. “I just wanted to squeeze one more chapter in.”

You peek out from the gap in the fort, scanning the mess that lies on top of Jeongguk’s desk. Books are stacked across two different piles, separated by genre ー One of them being social psychology books required for his research; “How to Win Friends and Influence People” sits on the very top.

Another stack is dedicated to the parenting books he often checks out from the library. There are Hello Kitty post-it notes that fill up nearly every page, bookmarked for future reference.

Your eyes return to Jeongguk’s figure, convinced that you can steal a glance, evaluating his exhausted state. But he already has his eyes trained on you, albeit very groggy. A dopey grin stretches across his lips. If he wasn’t already tired before, he definitely is now.

“You don’t have to do all this alone, Jeongguk. You need to rest.” You flash him a matching smile, hoping that the sentiment reaches him. “I don’t think that you scare easily, but I don’t think you’re immune to it either. And that’s perfectly okay. We’re all just people trying to get by.”

Jeongguk sinks deeper into the pillows, succumbing to his sleepy desires. “Thank you,” he murmurs, slurring his words. Another yawn slips from his lips. “I’m just used to it 一 being on my own.”

“Well, you’re not on your own anymore. You can count on me. We’re a team, remember?”

Jeongguk hums, reduced to non-verbal responses that don’t require much energy. Exhaustion tugs at his eyelids until they’re shut. He makes a mental note to talk about this with you another day.

You wave a hand in front of his face, convinced that he’s far gone from the state of consciousness. “If it makes you feel better, I can head back to my room now,” you whisper. You think it might be futile to warn him, considering he’s not awake. But as you peel the blanket back, one foot off the bed, there’s a warmth that envelops your wrist, and you halt in your tracks.

“Stay,” Jeongguk, as tired as he is, manages to mutter with conviction.

His grip doesn’t falter, and so, you relent. You crawl back beneath the sheets and let the night fade into dawn.

The sound of rain splashes against the window. The petrichor smells like childhood. It feels like home, and Jeongguk has never slept so soundlessly in his entire life.

Somehow, Jeongguk wakes up long before you, and you want to curse him for looking so handsome at the crack of dawn. His hair, although disheveled, looks perfectly imperfect. His shirt, as loose as it is, hugs his body in all the right places, sweatpants hanging low on his hips. His round specs perch on the bridge of his nose.

“What do you think about going on a family outing?” Jeongguk suggests over breakfast.

Minji’s eyes widen as excitement fills her tiny frame.

“That sounds like a fun idea,” you chime. “We should spend more time together so we can be perfect for the interview.” Because loving this man and his daughter is nothing more than a performance, right?

“Maybe we can stop at the convenience store and have a picnic in the park. What do you think?” In Jeongguk’s mind, he maps the layout of the market, pinpointing the food that the three of you would enjoy: kimbap, dried squid, potato chips, banana milk, and even fish shaped ice cream.

“The weather cleared up today. It’s beautiful outside.” You say, chowing down on a bite of strawberries.

Jeongguk raises a brow, questioning. “You want to go today? I thought you would want to go home after spending the night.”

“I don’t have much else planned on a Sunday. It gets kind of lonely at my house,” you shrug. “Are you sick of me already?”

But Jeongguk shakes his head. He’d be foolish to ever push you away.

…

In sync, both you and Minji enthusiastically bounce on your feet through the streets of Seoul. You could easily pass as a family from that simple action alone. It’s evident when elders cross paths with you, a fond smile sitting on their faces: “You have a beautiful family!” There’s no denying that. The three of you are picture perfect as you link hands on either side of Minji because she is, in fact, the center of your universe.

When you arrive at the convenience store, Jeongguk picks out a variety of nutritious food while Minji tries to slip cookies into the basket. She’s convinced that her father is not looking because he’s too busy sneaking glances at you from the other end of the snack aisle. He doesn’t think anyone would notice, but Minji surely does.

For some reason, he feels so content standing in a supermarket with his wife who picks the freshest fruit, and his daughter who tries to distract him from seeing the junk food in her hands. In fact, he could probably spend the entire day comparing vegetable prices, and he would still have the time of his life with you. He used to hate running errands, unless it was doing laundry. But now, he doesn’t seem to mind it. Perhaps it’s because he has two companions at his side, and it feels a little less lonely.

“Jeongguk?” You call his name from down the aisle. “Do you want me to grab coffee for you?” You reach for the top shelf on your tippy toes, struggling to grip your hands around the bottle.

Within an instant, Jeongguk is already at your side. He wraps an arm around your waist to prevent you from falling forward. A heat envelops your hand as he wraps his fingers around your palm. “I think I’ll skip on coffee for now. How about tea?”

Upon hearing his deep voice against the shell of your ear, you grow flustered. The heat of his body makes you freeze, and all you can do is nod your head, stunned. He reaches one shelf over to pluck a large bottle of tea, one that you can all share.

Although he’s dropped your hand, he keeps a strong arm around your waist. His shoulders are broad enough to simply devour you. Even his chest is so firm pressed against your back.

“By the way, angel, don’t you think we’ve moved on from the formalities?” There’s a pout that rests on his lips. “I’d like it if you could call me something other than Jeongguk. I think it’s more convincing that way.”

“But that’s your name. What do you want me to call you? Babe? Baby?”

He shakes his head as he rests his chin in the crook of your neck. His hair brushes against your cheek, and your breath hitches in your throat.

You stutter the words out of your mouth, trying to act unaffected. “H- how about darling? Honey? Sweetie? … Handsome?”

He doesn’t react to either of them, but handsome definitely makes him giggle.

You ponder for a moment more. “Then what about love?”

His arm squeezes your waist a little tighter as he presses an innocent kiss to your cheek. “That’s perfect, angel.”

He unravels himself from you as you stare blankly at the beverage aisle in complete awe. You brush your fingertips against your cheek where his warmth lingers.

This is still practice… right?

As you stroll through the park, you come across a live performance at the base of the fountain. There’s a man playing guitar, and he’s serenading the crowd as he busks for money. The three of you stand to admire just for a moment.

A few feet away, Minji is spinning and dancing to the soft melody. Meanwhile, Jeongguk moves his head to the beat of the song, singing the words, albeit faintly.

“You have a pretty voice.” You nudge your shoulders against his to catch his attention.

“Oh, it’s nothing.” He’s bashful.

“You should sing for me one day.” You raise your brows, trying to tempt him.

He contemplates your request, but he teases you with a soft “maybe.” He bumps his shoulder against yours like a high schooler with a crush.

You return the sentiment in a playful back and forth. His sweet action makes you squeal, but not for the reason that you think. Because the affectionate brush of skin against yours quickly transforms into Jeongguk hauling you into his arms. His thick biceps wrap beneath your thighs, and he lifts you into the air. You can’t stop yourself from giggling when he spins you around. There’s a combination of thrill and euphoria in your chest.

Jeongguk’s mind briefly wanders back to the conversation he had with Minji right before he tucked her into bed last night. “Appa, do you have a crush on eomma?”

He had scoffed at the question, brushing it off as if that was far from the truth. But Minji had thought otherwise. “When you have a crush on someone, you think about them all the time. You want them to be happy, and you would do anything to make them smile. Whenever you look at eomma, I can see your ears go red. I think you were shy when she kissed your booboo, and you probably want to kiss her back, right?” For some reason, Minji’s advice seemed to be more introspective than what he could ever pull out of Seokjin.

Jeongguk shakes his head, returning back to reality as he tucks the memory away. When he places you on the ground, you pant with adrenaline. “I thought I was going to fall.”

His gaze meets yours, and he playfully brushes his knuckles beneath your chin. The peak of sunset illuminates your eyes, and you look golden. An epiphany flashes through his mind, and Jeongguk mutters a curse that echoes through his thoughts. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He wants to kiss you.

But as usual, Jeongguk’s mind wins over his heart. He bites his tongue back and offers the next best thing: “Do you think I’d ever let you fall?” He grabs your hands as if nothing had happened ー as if he isn’t falling in love ー and you sway to the beat of the music, skipping to the lawn where you can enjoy your picnic.

…

The park is bustling with so many individuals going about their day, minding their own business. The city comes alive with all of the action that surrounds you.

“Eomma, what’s that over there?” Minji points at an art display at the other end of the fountain. There’s a throng of people, crowding around the small space. The three of you pack up your meal, making sure to toss all of your garbage, before heading over to catch sight of the action.

There are rows of copy paper attached to a fishing line. It strings across a makeshift perimeter, rooted with no rhyme or reason. Apparently, all the buzz is about an interactive exhibit. Anonymous letters from passersby are posted for you to view, and you may even contribute by submitting your own story. You could write about anything you want.

“That sounds like a fun idea,” Jeongguk suggests. So he grabs paper and markers for the three of you as you get to work.

Jeongguk tries to steal a glance at your story, but you throw your body over the paper.

“Hey, no peeking!” you shout. “These stories are supposed to belong to strangers, okay? Let’s keep it anonymous.”

On the other hand, Minji is enthusiastic to show her father the family portrait she’s drawn.

As the minutes pass, you finish jotting your thoughts. It’s not perfect by any means, but the sentiment is still there. When all is said and done, you’ve agreed that you wouldn’t read one another’s stories. One day, you both will disclose the contents of your letter, and you will finally know the truth, but today is not that day.

Dear reader, If I’m being honest, I’ve always felt undesirable. Nobody has ever confessed their feelings for me. I’ve never been in a relationship, nor have I had my first kiss. I’ve never been stopped in the middle of the street, only to be told that I have a beautiful smile. I’ve always been average at best. My friends are concerned that I’m lonely. They’re convinced that I need someone to take care of me, but I constantly tell them that I can do it on my own. I’ve done it my entire life. I’ve held my own hand, swallowed the heartache, and reminded myself “I can do this!” before doing the scary things I never wanted to do. I patted myself on the back when I finished school, earned my first job, and paid all my overdue bills. I raised my younger brother at the age of eighteen as if I was a single mother. I woke up to an empty bed every single day and fed myself scraps of food, even when I didn’t want to. Sometimes, it was burnt, charred, and a little too salty. But that’s what love tastes like, right? Through the smooth sailing and the rough patches, there was no boyfriend, no girlfriend, no partner or lover. Just me. But the more that I think about it, I am so, so tired. Perhaps I grew up too fast and burned too bright. Because now, I don’t know what to do. There’s a guy that I like, or at least I think I do. Nobody ever taught me how to sort out my feelings. I’ve always been told to give and give and give. I’ve had to sacrifice my life, my time, and all of my energy. I was never allowed to feel anger, sadness, or human connection. I never had anything for myself, and I feel empty. But lately, being with him brings me to life. Although I don’t know what it’s like to be in love, this is the closest thing I’ve ever felt to it. When I’m with him, my inner child wants to come out and play. That little girl has always lived in my imagination. I don’t know her very well, but she’s running around, laughing and dancing as if she knows no pain. With him, she is always reminded that she is beautiful and spectacular. That she is stronger than anyone he knows. She is safe. She is protected. Above all, she feels seen. She gets ice cream for dinner, and it’s sweet. It doesn’t quite taste like the love she once knew, but somehow, she thinks it’s even more delicious. Surely, yes, I can take care of myself. But maybe we can learn to take care of each other.

Hi. I don’t know who cares to read this, but if you do, welcome. Where do I even begin? I know this sounds pathetic, but… I don’t think anyone has ever truly understood me for who I am. Perhaps that’s my fault. I constantly reinvent myself to be the person that they want me to be. Society has so many expectations as to how I should look, how I should act, and how I should feel. Let me paint you a picture. I’m big ー horribly buff. I have tattoos and long hair. All the neighborhood grandmas tell me I should cut it because I’d be more handsome. They even tell their grandchildren not to look up to me because I’m far from being an aspiration. Even if I’m the most charming person in the room… if I change my appearance ー if I lose weight, cover my tattoos, and buzz off my hair, they’d find another reason to hate me. It’ll never be enough. They’ll always perceive me as the bad guy and villainize me for everything I do. They say it’s better to be feared than to be loved if I cannot be both. But… I think I want to be loved. I want to be loved so bad that I would do anything to make people look at me. Yet they all shove their unwanted opinions down my throat, and I have nothing left to swallow but my own pride. I have no choice but to be exactly what they want. Most people assume that I’m indestructible. Fortified. That I don’t have a single worry in this world. They think that I can shoulder all of these burdens, and nothing could possibly hurt me. Supposedly, I don’t ever cry ー I never break or bend or shatter because showing emotion is a sign that I’ve already lost. But it’s not true. I’m softer than I look. I worry that I’m not good enough. I feel like I suck at my job, and I constantly make mistakes. I don’t know how to be a good father, but I try. I don’t really know what I want to say. I just wish that people didn’t feel entitled to my body. My body is my own except when it isn’t. It happens more often than not. Maybe then, I could finally be myself, whoever that may be. It sounds like my life is awful, but I promise it isn’t that bad. Recently, I’ve found a small glimmer of hope. There’s one person who accepts me for who I am. She doesn’t expect me to be anyone but myself. She looks at me like I’m human ー as if I’m someone who’s worth it. Like I’m more than just an idea. She showed me that there’s kindness in this world ー that there’s bravery in being soft. She sees me, and scary enough, I think she can even see right through me. I’ve told her so many vulnerable things about myself, and she could probably stab me in the back with all that she knows. I think it would be worth it though. There’s still so much I have to tell her. She may not know the whole truth, but one day, she will. I hope she doesn’t leave me when she finds out. Until then, I will take care of her. I will keep her safe and protect her with every inch of my life. I promise.

By the end of the week, you and Jeongguk have amped yourselves up for Yumi’s engagement party. But there’s one problem.

Jeongguk is late.

He’s never late. When he needs to pick up his daughter from school, he always shows up thirty minutes before dismissal. On date nights, he knocks on your door while you’re in the midst of putting on makeup, and he gladly watches you doll yourself up for the entire hour. For Jeongguk to be late, something must be terribly wrong.

The two of you had agreed to meet up at Yumi’s party seeing that Jeongguk was running behind from work. But where could he possibly be when you need him the most?

Outside of Yumi’s apartment complex, you pace anxiously, twiddling with the engagement present in your hands ー a cast iron skillet that you and Jeongguk had both bought at the department store. From the sidewalk, you can hear the sound of music streaming from the open windows. Endless chatter filters between each beat. You glance at your watch for what feels like the hundredth time.

“Jeongguk, where are you?” You groan, ready to accept defeat.

A nervous sigh falls from your lips. Your shoulders slump. If you have to wait any longer, you might just head into the party all on your own and lose face in front of your friends.

Suddenly, you hear the echo of your name from down the street. Jeongguk is sprinting towards you. He’s a blur of motion. Before you realize it, the air is knocked out of your lungs. Jeongguk had overestimated his speed, missed his landing, and he is colliding into you with open arms.

“Angel, I’m so sorry I’m late.” He tucks his head against your shoulder, panting. His cheeks are hot, and his hair is disheveled. He murmurs apologies against your skin. The scratch of his voice etches a frown onto your face.

Between the two of you, Jeongguk is the more composed one. You’ve always known him to be calm, collected, a little silly, but lovely nevertheless. You’ve never seen him quite like this. He’s shaking.

You squeeze his shoulders in an attempt to peel his body away from yours. But his arms wrap around your waist even tighter, unwilling to part ways. This scene is rather familiar, something akin to a little child seeking comfort. You pat his back, hushing him, as to tell him that everything will be okay.

So you start counting to ten, reminding him to breathe in and out. You place your hand on his chest, strong and reliable, right over the beat of his heart. His eyes close, concentrating all of his energy on the blooming feeling inside of his ribcage. So you paint a pretty picture for him as you dwell in a little puddle of grief together.

“My mom used to tell me that if you transport yourself to a happy place, then all your worries will melt away.”

Jeongguk doesn’t respond, but he hums against your collarbone. He wants nothing more but to hear you talk. He loves the sound of your voice. What is your happy place?

“These days, I picture myself with you in your house. We’re baking a cake with Minny, and it’s going terribly wrong.” You let out a chuckle, and it’s the sweetest thing Jeongguk has ever heard. “Well, actually, the taste is perfect. You’re the head chef after all, and you’re so talented. You know better than me.”

You interrupt your own story with something that will definitely make him laugh. “Did you know that I’ve been borrowing cookbooks from the library? I know it sounds ridiculous. I want to get better so you don’t have to cook all the time. It’d be such a shame if I accidentally poisoned you and the cops would swarm in, charging me with second degree murder.” You can feel his smile against your neck. “I found a recipe for buckwheat noodles, and maybe we should try it out next weekend.”

He nods against your neck, sniffling. He doesn’t want to break it to you, but all you need is a boiling pot of water to cook the noodles.

“Well anyways, in my happy place, the kitchen is a disaster because there’s icing everywhere. Sprinkles are in your hair. I think I have flour in my bra and butter on my cheek. But we’re having fun, singing along to the radio with all of the wrong lyrics. I’d ask you to dance, and when you’re too scared of looking stupid, Minny would pull out a dance move that’s even sillier than what you could ever imagine. Because even if we can’t do it perfectly, whether it is cooking or dancing or singing, we’re still trying.”

There’s a wet tear that falls onto your collarbone. You trace a circle against Jeongguk’s chest, reminding him to concentrate all of his feelings right there. His shoulders relax and his breath evens out.

“When we’re in our happy place, we never go hungry. So if you ever feel sad or anxious, then just meet me right here. I’ll bring the cake ー sorry, just the ingredients, actually, but I’ll get better at cooking. I swear! Minny will bring her cute attitude. And you can just bring yourself.”

There’s a soft breeze that surrounds you. The moonlight conspires with the flight of the fireflies, illuminating the dim sidewalk. The party is long forgotten as you hold onto Jeongguk for just another moment. Reluctantly, he steps back with his head down. His eyes train on the pavement.

“How do you feel, love? Look at me.” You cup his cheeks, and he leans into your touch, nuzzling into your embrace.

After taking a deep sigh, he lifts his head to reveal a bruised cheek and a gash above his eye, right on the brow bone. The blood runs dry.

Shock runs through your body. “What happened? Did someone hurt you?” You gently move his head from side to side, examining every inch of his skin to check for more injuries. But your eyes are frantic. Your hands run through his hair, feeling for bumps and bruises. The search comes up empty, but your throat constricts at the thought of someone hurting your husband.

You grab the cast iron skillet, wielding it like a weapon with the force of a grip so tight that it threatens to bend beneath your fingers. Your other hand clenches his palm, stomping in the direction he came from so he could lead you towards the perpetrator.

Whoever did this to Jeongguk is going to pay, and you’re willing to kill whoever it is. Because for him, you would wage a full on war, running straight into your demise if it meant fighting for him. You would barrel through fire, load your rifles, and draw your daggers no matter what it takes. If they ask you to rip your heart out and put it in his hands, you would have considered the deal done long ago.

Jeongguk is quick to extinguish the fiery passion that fuels your anger, reminding you to not make any rash decisions. The flash of his doe eyes is enough to soothe your worries, and all you want to do is hold him.

The truth is, Jeongguk had already taken care of the situation. As the story goes, he had accepted a side mission to stop the smuggling of antiques from a museum ー gifts from a billionaire tycoon who had long passed. His heirs had sent the treasures to be appraised in the city before it was quickly intercepted by a smuggling ring.

Jeongguk managed to save original art from dynasties past (no doubt stolen), rare coins, china sets, and clusters of intricate jewelry. He stopped the ploy before the thieves had even left the warehouse. However, being the best of the best does not mean he is able to escape unscathed every time.

Jeongguk did not account for the hidden explosives on the agenda. A shrapnel had grazed his skin, forming a deep gash above his brow bone. Had he not been more careful, he would have been in much worse shape.

Although Jeongguk had completed his mission, barely injured, he can’t help but feel guilty for showing up late. If his wound was much more serious, or perhaps he was left for dead, he would not have made it to Yumi’s engagement party. The last thing Jeongguk wants is to keep you waiting.

While he zipped through the streets of Seoul, he didn’t even have a chance to think of a lie. All he could think about was running to you. So he says the first thing that comes to mind. “The airbags in my car set off.”

“You were in a crash? Was Minny with you? What are you doing here? You should go to a hospital!” The words splutter out of your mouth.

His hand cups yours as they rest on his cheeks. “Minny’s with Seokjin today, so don’t worry. The collision was really minor, I swear. I already went to the emergency room, and they said I’ll be good as new.” His voice is eerily calm.

He laces his fingers with yours and presses his lips against your knuckles before promptly taking the iron skillet from your hands. “I don’t want you to worry, let’s just go to the party, okay?”

You’re too concerned to even dwell on that tender moment of intimacy. “You worry me too much, you know?”

“I know, angel. I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you, I swear.”

You squeeze his hand a little tighter as you shake your head. “I don’t need anything. I’m just glad that you’re here.”

But little do you know, there’s a diamond ring worth millions burning a hole in Jeongguk’s pocket. Some dead billionaire isn’t going to miss it.

Everyone at the event is captivated by Jeongguk. Of course they would. It’s easy when Jeongguk is so charming in such a deceitful way. He can easily spin different versions of himself after each new greeting, creating a hundred nuances to his personality in an instant. He could tell everyone that he’s the prince of Joseon, and they would easily fall for his lies because of the charisma that he oozes.

Your friends see him as the best boyfriend in the world, someone who’s the total package and simply put, he’s way out of your league. He’s romantic in every aspect of the word, he’s open about his feelings, and he’s the purest definition of a “girl dad.” What more could you possibly ask for? Whatever it is, Jeongguk is exactly that.

Even when Jeongguk has no need to impress the men at the party, he has dozens of conversation topics up his sleeve. It’s impressive when he knows basically everything about everything. You name it: video games, boxing, and the federal reserve. This arsenal of information is stored in his mind simply because he’ll never know when he needs to strike up a conversation about camping, barbecuing, or fishing (despite never having an interest to sit and stare at the water with Seokjin for hours on end). Men are so simple minded. They’re absolute fools.

Thankfully, your brother, San, is just another man who falls for the thinly veiled ruse. He seems to approve of your relationship with Jeongguk. Mostly because he can talk about their passion for different cuts of meat. But also because he sees the way that your “boyfriend” takes care of you in the most subtle ways ー by virtue, it’s the act of noticing.

Jeongguk walks you through the crowds of people with a guiding hand on your lower back. He fixes your hair when it falls loose in front of your face. He refills your cup with your favorite drink without ever having to ask. He can’t stop talking about how grateful he is to have a chance with you ー how you’re so beautiful and smart and the only thing he ever wants. There’s obviously love and intention in Jeongguk’s eyes whenever he looks at you. Anyone could see that. To be loved is to be known, and Jeongguk knows you like the back of his hand.

You can feel the pressure of having to prove your relationship when all of the girls gather around, asking invasive questions. How did you convince y/n to go out with you? We almost lost hope for the poor girl. Have you all hung out as a family yet? What does Minji think of your relationship?

For some reason, it feels like you’re back in high school, listening to locker room gossip. It feels as if they’re judging you. They’re laughing at you. But time and time again, Jeongguk defends you and your honor. Not because you need his help, but because you love the safety and security of his words.

“I don’t appreciate you being passive aggressive. Because to me, y/n is the most precious person in the world. If you have something you want to say, then just say it to my face.” He bites back without ever breaking eye contact. He rolls up the sleeves of his shirt. It’s equal parts intimidating and the most attractive thing you have ever seen.

All the girls seem to agree when they swallow a trace of spit and nod their heads in obedience. “Sorry, we just wanted to say that you’re both so lucky to find one another.” They drop the subject, but only for a little while.

Throughout the party, Jeongguk holds you close because he knows how nervous you were to come, and rightfully so. You told him how scared you were to introduce him to all of your friends (he doesn’t see why they deserve that title when they’re nothing but mean girls). Nevertheless, you’re frightened because your relationship with Jeongguk is sacred. Untainted. Unconventional, yes. But it’s protected because only you know about the depths of your bond. After tonight, everything will change. Having your “friends” witness your love so openly feels as if you have to give up another piece of yourself. After making this public knowledge, nothing could ever fully be yours.

But this moment right here is yours to keep, yours to hold, and yours to cherish. Jeon Jeongguk is in your arms, and all you can do is make it known that you are in love.

“Whatever they say, ignore them, okay? Just look at me.” His arm wraps around your waist, and you relax in his hold. The stars in his eyes keep you captivated, and everything else is long forgotten. He whispers sweet nothings in your ear, scared that if he were to go up one decibel, it would burst the little bubble that you’ve created for yourselves. Perhaps you would disappear if he says your name any louder, and he would wake up to realize that his dream girl is nothing but a figment of his imagination.

But there’s nothing about this relationship that’s fake. Your brother can see it all. Although you haven’t hung out with him in ages, he’s very intrigued with the man hanging off of your arm. “Jeongguk, when did you realize that y/n was the one?”

“Stop, we just started dating.” You smack the back of San’s head. But Jeongguk isn’t one to shy away from the question.

“Well, it’s a funny story. The first time I saw her, I thought I had to talk to her. A few months ago, I dropped my daughter off at the daycare. When I walked past the door, I tripped on my own two feet. I saw y/n reading a story at the front of the class. She was so elegant, graceful, and just so, so gorgeous. My first thought was that she is the most incredible person I’ve ever seen.” Jeongguk tells the story without ever taking his eyes off of you. It’s as if you’re the only person in the whole world. There’s a beaming smile stretched across his face. His dimples are carved into his cheeks.

“Minji, my daughter, she has a tendency to cry when I’m not there. So when she bursted into tears, y/n asked if she wanted to sit with her and help her read. She put my daughter on her lap, and instantly, Minny stopped crying.

“For weeks, I tried to work up the courage to approach her. I visited as much as I could. I borrowed more materials than I could even finish, and eventually, I had a pile of overdue books sitting in my apartment. When y/n wasn’t busy with the daycare, she worked at the front desk. I thought she might say something about my outstanding charges, but she never did. At that point, I wanted to talk to her so bad, but I was so foolish. I started bringing cups of coffee into the library, thinking that she would yell at me for breaking the rules.”

“Did it work? Why didn’t you just say something?” San wonders.

“I wasn’t sure what to say. I didn’t think she was interested. She barely looked at me. Never tried to initiate small talk,” Jeongguk shrugs.

Avoiding eye contact is exactly how you show interest in someone. Is there any other way to do it? You had been so nervous to even glance in his general direction! Men don’t ever give you affection, especially not men as gorgeous as Jeongguk. It just felt so wrong to even think about crushing on him.

“But one day, y/n approached me first by some miracle, and I was so shocked. I- I just thought she was an angel. My daughter was at her side. We talked. One thing led to another. The next thing I knew, I was stressing about what outfit to wear and buying flowers so I could pick her up for a coffee date. I don’t even know how to explain it. Everything just fell into place.”

You were convinced that Jeongguk had never noticed you before you approached him that fateful day in the non-fiction aisle. But it rings true that Minji had cried some months ago during reading time. You recall all of the details, albeit vaguely. Had Jeongguk been watching all this time? Did he really borrow an excessive amount of books and purposely buy illicit coffee just to get your attention?

There’s a soft smile that plays on your lips, and Jeongguk is certain that you’re a real life angel. “I hope you know that I waived your overdue fees every single time,” you confess.

…

At some point in the night, you and Jeongguk ended up separating in the most nightmarish of ways. Your coworkers had looped their arms around yours and pulled you away for some girl talk.

Meanwhile Jeongguk is at the other end of the hall, playing billiards with all of the other men. He socializes with them as if it’s effortless. He tells them jokes and makes them chuckle, but of course, his laugh is the one that stands out to you the most. He’s enchanting, and you are all but a moth drawn to a flame. He lights up every room he walks into, shining brighter than anything you’ve ever seen.

As you watch Jeongguk have his own fun, you check out of the conversation, barely listening to what Yumi has to say. You couldn’t quite relate to the stories that they’ve shared about their partners ー being engaged, moving in together, trying for children, having sex.

“y/n, how big is your boyfriend?”

You ponder the question. “Uhm, I don’t know his weight exactly…”

“No, no, sweetie, I mean how big is his dick?”

Your eyes widen in surprise as you shake your head. “We haven’t actually done anything yet. Our relationship is new, y’know. Also, I don’t think that’s any of your business-”

“You mean you haven’t even seen him naked? Surely you’ve touched him when you’ve made out, right?” Their eyes widen when you shake your head no, trying to sputter a retort.

“Even if you’re taking it slow, you must know what he likes in bed, right? Spitting? Choking? Spanking? A little bit of roleplay? Does he like to be called daddy?”

You, yourself, nearly choke on your own drink.

“Most couples get intimate because- I hate to break it to you-” Yumi leans closer to you until her voice is all but a whisper. “All men have needs. If they aren’t met, then he might break up with you and look for satisfaction elsewhere.”

You don’t know why you would believe Yumi’s words despite Jeongguk’s constant reassurance of how much you mean to him. She’s so fucking infuriating, but could she be right? Does Jeongguk see other women when you’re not around? Does he ever tell you that you’re pretty just for the performance of being a married couple? Has everything he said in the past few weeks been an act? Surely, you don’t know everything about this man, but would he ever lie to you? You bite the inside of your cheek as you anxiously pick on the skin around your nails, thinking about her advice.

Seemingly, Jeongguk doesn’t know what the conversation is about. But he doesn’t need to be familiar with the details to know that you’re growing anxious. He can see it from the way you fiddle with your hands. From the way you furrow your brows and chew on your lips. From down the hall, he can pick up on your breathing. He can practically hear the hurricane of thoughts swirling around your head.

Before you can drown in your thoughts, Jeongguk makes his way over to you, nursing a glass of champagne in his hand. “Hi, angel.” He whispers against your jaw. His cheeks are flushed pink as his head rests against the crook of your neck, slotting together like two pieces of a puzzle. “Do you want to get out of here? You can stay over at my place tonight if you want,” he offers.

“What’s wrong? Does it hurt?” You shift your gaze to the gash on his brow. Even when you don’t feel your best, you’re still concerned for those around you. That’s just the person you are. You’re so used to giving yourself away.

“Kind of,” he says. But it hurts more knowing that you’re not okay.

You ruffle your hands through his hair, trying to soothe his ache. “Do you want your painkillers?”

“Just want you.” His deep voice rumbles against your collarbone as he presses a shy kiss to your shoulder. “Come on, let’s go home.” He gently grabs your hand in his and leads you out the front door. You don’t even have a chance to say goodbye to all the guests. Quite frankly, you don’t even care.

The moment you return to Jeongguk’s apartment, you dart to the medicine cabinet, filling a glass of water and instructing him to swallow the morphine pill. To soothe the pain, you apply some ointment onto his injury and gently blow on his gash, hoping that it doesn’t leave a scar to mar his beautiful face. But you avoid eye contact with him as much as you can. All while Jeongguk stares at your pretty lips and your glittery eyes. You look so cute when you’re concerned. A pout rests on your face, and he wants nothing more than to kiss it better.

But then you bid him goodnight, rushing into the guest room, pacing back and forth behind closed doors.

Jeongguk sits in the living room, stunned, wondering if he’s done something wrong. Whether his breath smells, or maybe he’s come on too strong. Is it obvious how much he cares for you? Yet a part of him wants you to know, even if you don’t reciprocate. To love you so freely is enough for him.

For you, the problem is not Jeongguk. It’s the fact that you can’t stop thinking about the conversation from earlier in the night. Yumi’s voice echoes through your thoughts. All men have needs. If they aren’t met, then he might break up with you and look for satisfaction elsewhere.

A part of you needs Jeongguk to tell you that this isn’t true. Your heart and mind may not be able to rest otherwise. So for the sake of your fake relationship, you put on a brave face and patter down the hall to his room.

…

The soft knock on Jeongguk’s door draws his attention away from the vanity. As soon as he tells you to come in, you hesitantly enter his bedroom.

His back is turned as he faces the mirror, heedlessly applying his skincare. “What’s up? Do you need anything?” He spins around to meet you with curiosity written on his face.

You catch a glimpse of his exposed chest, and your cheeks heats up in recognition. The top three buttons of his shirt are undone, seeing that he’s getting ready for bed. He removes his rings and the silver watch from his wrist.

“Sorry, I- I didn’t know you were indecent.” You turn your head away, avoiding his strong build ー the biceps that bulge beneath his shirt and the muscles that flex with every movement. Your hand shoots up to hide your face in embarrassment.

He finds it adorable how flustered you get upon seeing a little bit of skin. Still, he makes no effort to button up his shirt. Because that’s all that it is ー just skin.

You swallow the lump in your throat, and your eyes flicker to the floor as if the rug is the most interesting thing in the world. “Can we talk about something?”

“Talk?” He approaches the bed, patting the spot beside him. “Come here, what do you want to talk about?”

You perch yourself onto the mattress bouncing up and down from the weight of the springs. Jeongguk sidles closer to you. His knees knock against yours. He smells like jasmine and musk, and it’s divine.

“At the party, the girls were talking about relationships,” you begin.

He hums with a nod, attentive as ever. Jeongguk looks at you as if you’re the only person in the world, but you don’t seem to notice, too preoccupied with anything else but the intensity of his eyes.

“What did they say?” He wonders, readjusting your necklace so the pendant sits pretty on your neck.

“Y’know.” You tug on your fingers, finding something to fiddle with. “The usual stuff.”

He reaches for your hands, instantly halting your movements. Soothing your nerves, he rubs his thumb over your knuckles. He knows that you must have mustered a lot of courage to come over and bring this up. “Angel, you have to use your words if you want to tell me what’s on your mind.”

You grow bashful under his touch, but that’s exactly the problem. “They talked about stuff like this.” You squeeze his palms for emphasis. “Holding hands. Touching. Skinship.” You mumble the last part, too shy to say it out loud: “Kissing.” Turning your cheek towards him, you murmur an apology. “Sorry. You make me nervous.”

Jeongguk doesn’t fail to notice the way your tongue licks the plump of your lips or the way your throat constricts after swallowing a trace of spit. “Nervous? C’mere- look at me.”

His deep voice sends a shiver down your spine. It’s authoritative, and you can’t help but follow his orders.

“I’m not familiar with being this close to someone,” you motion at the lack of space between his body and yours. “I wouldn’t want you to be upset with me if I’m not very affectionate.”

“Angel, I’d never be upset with you. We can do whatever you want at your own pace.”

“Are you sure you’d never leave me if-”

Jeongguk stops your train of thought before allowing your mind to wander to a dark place. His voice hardens upon hearing such a suggestion. “I never want to even think about that possibility because I’m not letting you go. I’m yours no matter what. You’ll actually have to fight me if you want to push me away. Even then, I’d crawl right back to you.” He truly means every single word that he utters.

There’s a hint of a smile on your lips. “Sorry. Intimacy is really scary for me,” you confess, hesitating. Jeongguk gives you another moment to collect your thoughts. He’d give you as long as you need, even if it’s a lifetime and all the stars in the night sky have burnt out.

“But another reason I want to talk to you is because I’m concerned this won’t come across as a real marriage if we’re physically distant, y’know? The girls said that it’s normal for couples to be… intimate.”

Jeongguk doesn’t say anything, at least not immediately. He doesn’t react. His eyes are distracted by your mouth ー the way your gloss clings onto your lips and the way it moves so languidly with every word you articulate.

“Jeongguk- Love?”

The sound of his name never really meant much to him. After all, it’s just an alias. Yet nothing sets him aflame more than the claim that you have on him ー the way that your lips purse when you call him your love.

“I know this sounds silly-” you begin.

He shakes his head, brows furrowed, effectively wiping away all of your insecurities. “Never.”

A naive grin spreads across your face. How could you be so foolish to believe that Jeongguk would make you feel anything less than important? Time and time again, he makes you feel heard. He makes you feel seen.

“Go on,” he urges. “Tell me.”

“Well, I read an article about how looking into your partner’s eyes for a long period of time increases intimacy. It also builds trust and helps to recognize emotion.” It’s ironic how you explain all of this while avoiding his eyes. Instead, you keep them trained on the scar sitting pretty and kissable on his cheek.

A dimpled smile spreads across Jeongguk’s face. “Okay, we can try,” he agrees. He reaches to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, and you think you might pass away. “But angel, you have to face me if we’re going to do this. I want you to be comfortable.”

“Right, yeah,” you mumble. “Of course.” Shuffling from the edge of the bed, you turn to face your husband. You tuck your feet beneath your butt and sit on your knees.

“Relax, okay? There’s no need to be nervous around me.” His voice is reassuring. It’s heartwarming.

You nod your head as you will yourself to meet his gaze. “I can do this. I can do this,” you think to yourself.

Jeongguk’s pupils glimmer in the lowlight, warm and comforting, and you wonder how anyone could be so handsome. You try to focus on the task at hand, but it’s difficult when he, himself, is so distracting. There’s a beauty mark on his cheek. His jaw. His nose. Beneath his lip. You could trace them all day and night, if only he’d let you.

Jeongguk’s deep voice cuts through the night. “Is there anything else that you want to try?”

“M- maybe we could hold hands?”

“We’ve held hands before.” He laces his fingers between yours so effortlessly, his hand engulfing.

Your breath hitches in your throat.

“Does it still make you nervous?” He wonders.

“A little bit,” you glance at how small your hand looks in his. “But I can get used to it.”

“Can I suggest something?”

You nod, agreeing. “Anything.”

He tilts his head to the side, raising a brow, unconvinced. “Anything? Are you sure?”

You nod with more confidence. “I’ll tell you if I don’t like it.”

“Then can I hold you?”

You hesitate for a second, unsure of what that entails. A beat goes by when Jeongguk is prepared to tell you that you’re free to say no. But you wipe that thought away, giving him your full consent.

Not a second passes by before he wraps his tattooed arms around your waist, tugging you onto his lap. Your thighs rest on either side of his hips, straddling him.

A squeak ー a fucking squeak. God, how much cuter can you get? ー slips past your lips. They’re swollen from how you nervously tug on the flesh, tethering it between your teeth.

“Does this feel better?” There’s a sense of longing that drips from Jeongguk’s honeyed voice.

“It’s… nice.” Your brain is on the verge of malfunctioning and shutting down upon feeling the heat of his skin against yours. “Better.” Your voice is breathy. It’s self preservation. You exhale deeply in an attempt to calm the flutter of your heart.

To keep yourself occupied, you trace your fingers across your bare thighs, unsure of what to do with them. Jeongguk had let go of your hands in favor of holding your hips. So you play with the hem of your dress that’s currently riding up your legs. Suddenly, you’re very aware of how little you’re wearing. How your skin is burning beneath his fingertips.

Jeongguk’s body is radiating, and you can feel the heat between your legs grow, the dampness in your underwear spreading.

“You can touch me if you want,” he offers.

You’re not as confident as Jeongguk, but oh, how you wish you were.

“Do you want to?” He senses your hesitation, yet you nod your head, affirming.

“I do,” you bite the inside of your cheek. “I want to touch you- feel you.”

Jeongguk wraps his fingers around your wrists, bringing your hands to rest on his broad shoulders. They’re muscular beneath your touch. You curse yourself for letting your mind wander and for letting your panties soak with arousal ー neither of which you can control.

Somehow, you resist the urge to look down at his physique. The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up to the elbows, revealing his strong forearms, adorned by the dark tattoos that coil up his muscles. Your gaze darts across his features, struggling to focus on the starlight in his eyes. You switch between the edge of his jaw, the dip of his neck, and the plump of his lips.

“My eyes are up here, angel.” The corner of his mouth draws into a smile ー so bright and devastatingly beautiful. He hooks a gentle hand beneath your chin, guiding you to meet his stare. “Tell me what you’re thinking about. What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

Your voice is soft, just barely above a whisper. It’s nearly inaudible. “Thinking about what it would be like to kiss you.”

The innocence of your words makes Jeongguk blush. He’s never been the type to be so easily affected. After all, he’s the bold one in the relationship ー confident, decisive, dominant. But you make him weak in the knees.

“You don’t have to ask permission to kiss me.” Jeongguk inches closer, considerate hands squeezing around your waist. “You’re my wife.”

Why does the thought of belonging to Jeongguk make your heart stutter? You’re certain that this is nothing but pretend, yet the only thing that makes you believe this could be real is the soothing circles that Jeongguk draws onto your skin. He’s present. He’s willing. His lips are right there, right in front of you. You could take the leap of faith and close the distance, leaning forward to kiss him.

So you do.

When your lips meet, it’s as if the rest of the world has gone silent. Time has stopped, and nothing else matters but the two of you at this moment.

His lips are pillowy soft against yours. He tastes like champagne and mint. He’s gentle, only applying as much pressure as you do. You melt into his touch, feeling featherlight in his hold. His hands grip your waist so delicately, with love and intention, as if you are the most precious thing in his eyes.

You pull apart to catch your breath, allowing the air to fill your lungs, regretfully so. If you were to drown, you would want to drown in Jeon Jeongguk. Your eyes flutter open, but you can’t seem to look at anything but his cherry lips.

“Love…” The term of endearment leaves your lips in a pant, and he grows harder beneath you. “This is going to sound so embarrassing…” Your voice trails off as the heat engulfs your entire body. Your head lowers, feeling self-conscious of your actions.

Jeongguk nuzzles his nose against your neck as he presses tender kisses on your collarbone. “What is it? You can tell me anything.”

Your fingernails dig into his strong shoulders, squeezing his taut muscles as you muster the courage to tell him the truth. “That was my first kiss.”

He peers up at you from beneath his long eyelashes. “That’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” Jeongguk shakes his head, squeezing your waist with reassurance.

Your eyes are half lidded as you murmur a quiet confession, “I want to kiss you again.” Normally, you wouldn’t dare to be so bold, but you feel drunk on his taste.

“You can do whatever you want to me.” Jeongguk draws you closer, dragging your core onto the apex of his thighs, thick and sturdy. “I like anything that you like. Kissing you. Holding you. Just looking at you,” he shrugs. “And if it wasn’t obvious enough… I like you.”

Jeon Jeongguk makes you absolutely breathless. “Ar- are we still pretending?”

“Never.” Leaning forward, he brushes his mouth against yours. “I have never once pretended with you.”

You kiss him back with more fervor, desperate and wanting. You’re more confident now, fully knowing that Jeongguk wants this as much as you do.

“When you said I could do whatever…” You pull back, thinking about Jeongguk’s previous statement.

He nods his head with the most innocent beam on his face. “I mean it.”

God, you feel like such a pervert. You’ve shared your first kiss with him, something so sweet and innocent. Why couldn’t that be enough for you? You’re sitting on his lap, feeling the broad planes of his chest, and you can’t stop thinking about what it would be like to do more. To feel more.

You’re ridden with guilt, drowning in your own arousal, but Jeongguk is so kind. He’s understanding. He’s staring at you as if you’re his whole world. He would never dare to objectify you because he’s a gentleman. But… What if you want him to?

“The girls at the party were also talking about…” Your words begin to trail.

“About what?” You subconsciously trace circles onto his shoulders, distracting yourself from the conversation, not knowing that Jeongguk’s eyes flutter close because he adores the drag of your nails and the subtle warmth of your fingertips.

“About… doing it.” Your words come out in a hushed whisper. It feels too inappropriate to say it out loud. Yet you don’t dare to mention how your panties are absolutely ruined.

“Angel, what did we talk about?” His lips press against your shoulder, at any inch of skin that he can reach. “You have to be more specific.”

Jeongguk has never once made you feel ashamed or embarrassed. He has never laughed at you or told you that you’re being silly. So why is it so difficult to tell him that you want him ー Need him?

You take the leap of faith because this is your partner ー in life, in death, and in crime. This is Jeongguk. Your one and only lover who never fails to remind you that you are the strongest woman in the world. He who delivers nutritious lunch boxes to you and tucks cute notes into the lid because he knows that they make you smile. Jeon Jeongguk who massages the knots out of your shoulders after a secret night of combat. He who gets pouty when you call him anything other than ‘love.’

There’s no need to hide anything from this man. He’s your home, just as you are his.

“They talked about sex… You know… making love. ” The crude word sounds so wrong leaving your lips. So out of place. It’s dirty, and it’s naughty. “They said all couples do it, but we’ve never…”

“Do you want to do it because you want to, or is it because your friends told you to?” Jeongguk searches your eyes for clarification. “Because if you feel pressured when you’re not ready-”

“No! I do!” You cling onto his shirt with more urgency. “I want to do it ー with you. I trust you.” You lean closer, brushing your lips against his ear. “You’re my husband.”

Jeongguk groans at the sound of your words. At the way your fingernails scratch down his chest. At the way you sit so pretty and perfect on top of his lap, pressing your weight into his erection.

He gulps as if this is the first time he’s ever been nervous in his life. “Why don’t you take off my shirt?”

“C- can I?” you stutter.

“Like I said, you can do whatever you want to me. You’re my wife, and I’m yours.” He presses his lips against your brow. “Yours to hold. To kiss. To love.” He kisses your nose. Your chin. Your jaw. He tucks your hair behind your ears and whispers. “I’m yours to make love to.”

With trembling fingers, you reach for the button that barely holds Jeongguk’s shirt together.

His hand engulfs yours. “Don’t forget to breathe, in and out, okay?” Jeongguk, patient as ever, waits for your respiration to steady. “You’re safe with me. If you want to stop, just say the word.”

With each button undone, his shirt falls apart, revealing Jeongguk’s toned abs. As glorious as he is, your eyes are drawn to the scar on the side of his stomach, barely covered by the fabric that hangs off his back. The scar is jagged, and the skin is raised, the tissue is puckered at the edges.

“Wha- what happened here?” Your fingertips reach down to trace over the scar, but before you make contact, you pull away.

“You can touch it-” Jeongguk reaffirms. “Wherever you want. I’m yours.”

Jeongguk’s breath hitches in his throat when your cold hands lightly graze the rough texture, feeling the ghost of his past. But he knows how you’ll respect his boundaries no matter what, and he relaxes, fully knowing that you’ll take care of him.

“I had surgery when I was younger.” Jeongguk lies. “They took out my appendix.”

Your brows furrow. There’s no reason not to believe him, but why is the scar so jagged and uneven? Certain parts are wider than others as if the surgeon had twisted a large blade into his abdomen, and not simply sliced to gain access to his organs.

As usual, Jeongguk can read the concern written on your face. “It’s okay, it didn’t hurt much.” The curve of his lips settle into a warm and reassuring smile. “I promise.”

Jeongguk doesn’t express any discomfort about his scar, yet you can’t help but wonder what kind of horrors he had to live through.

To ease your mind, Jeongguk pulls you into his body and presses his hands beneath your thighs.

A yelp escapes from your lips as he lifts you up. You’re chest to chest with him, legs wrapping around his waist. He presses your back down to the mattress, settling your head onto one of the pillows at the bedpost.

He hovers above you, a hair's breadth away.

“Hi,” he whispers against your lips. “You look so stunning.”

You grow shy with all the attention that Jeongguk feeds you. “Hi,” you whisper back. Your legs wrap tighter around his waist.

“Can I take this off?” Jeongguk glides a finger beneath the strap of your dress.

There’s a rush in your head, feeling dizzy upon nodding your head with so much vigor.

His lips pair with yours in a quick kiss before calling you a good girl. He shifts his weight off of you so that he can tug you into an upright position and peel the dress off.

Jeongguk’s eyes widen at your bare chest, having omitted a bra so as to not ruin the outfit. His throat goes dry, and he’s having trouble forming words in his head. You’ve never seen him so speechless.

Subconsciously, you raise your arms to cover your chest.

“No, no, no, don’t do that.” Jeongguk wraps his fingers around your wrists, pressing a smooch to your delicate skin. “You’re so pretty like this. Don’t ever hide from me, okay?”

His words make you shiver. Having someone dote on you as much as Jeongguk is something you’re not used to. But that’s exactly why you’re here, right? So you nod your head and let him pin your hands to the mattress before leading a trail of kisses down your body.

Curious fingers speak freely against your skin, exploring every inch of you. He takes note of every gasp, giggle, and moan that escapes your lips. He presses his swollen lips to your sensitive spots until you keen louder for him, desperately begging for more. His lips wrap around your nipple, sucking on the bud until you whimper. He’s a drooling mess over your tits as he leaves a trail of saliva, marking your skin and claiming you as his.

Jeongguk furthers his descent down your tummy, placing sweet kisses against the waistband of your panties. He reaches down to feel the leather strap around your upper thigh. It’s the holster that you use to sheathe your knife, and thank God you disarmed before stepping into Jeongguk’s bedroom.

“I use it to hold my pepper spray,” you murmur a half-ass excuse. “Some of my clothes have shallow pockets.”

Jeongguk smiles against your skin as he ghosts his lips against your soft thighs. He doesn’t think much of it, but he does think it’s really hot. So he doesn’t bother to unstrap as he continues to worship your body.

What catches his attention is not the way you’ve soaked through your underwear, as arousing as it is. But rather, he’s intrigued by the faint mark on the outside of your thigh. It’s not a regular, old scar. To Jeongguk, it’s oddly familiar because it’s what appears to be an old bullet wound.

Jeongguk stutters in disbelief, eyes wide. “What’s this? W- were you sho-” He tries to mentally collect himself as he settles on a choice of words. “Were you hurt? Who hurt you?”

You look down, noticing the circular scar on your outer thigh before shaking it off. “It’s nothing. It was from an injection.”

“Are you sure? It looks li- It looked serious.” His voice trembles with concern, hands fisting at his sides.

You pull him up by the collar of his undone shirt, hanging off his broad shoulders. Your lips meet his in a delicate, comforting kiss. Jeongguk visibly relaxes in your hold.

“I’m fine, really. I just want you.” You claw his shoulders in an attempt to peel the rest of the fabric off.

Jeongguk sighs, trying to forget about what he had seen. But he’s certain that his mind will wander back to the scar at another point in time. He strips the shirt off his back, carelessly tossing the fabric onto the floor.

Jeon Jeongguk is mesmerizing. You’ve never seen the entirety of his sleeve, but there it is, in all its glory. There’s a faint beauty mark on his chest, one that you did not account for when tracing all of the scars and marks on his upper body.

“Tell me you want me,” his breath is hot and heavy against yours.

Subconsciously, you clench at the sound of his words. “Guk- I want you more than anything.” Your hands float down to the buckle of his jeans as you unclasp the button. “You’re wearing too much. Take it off.” The plea that falls from your lips is breathy and desperate.

“Fuck-” Jeongguk curses, trying to restrain himself.

Jeongguk has slept with plenty of women before, but never like this. He’s always had one night stands with an ulterior motive, whether it is for leverage or intel or for the sole purpose of converting an innocent woman into a whistleblower. He’s fucked with media journalists, cabinet members, and even the wives of politicians. He isn’t proud of it, but women, just like everyone else, are more likely to say things they don’t mean when their desires are fulfilled. They’re willing to trust him and spill their secrets when they’re lost in the throes of pleasure ー when he hands over his lust and his attention. It’s transactional.

Jeongguk has always thought that love is cheap. But not with you.

With you, Jeongguk has the innate need to take his time. He wants to show you what it means to make love.

He hooks his hand beneath your panties, pulling them down your legs. There’s a string of arousal that breaks when he tugs the fabric off. It’s absolutely soaked in your arousal. Jeongguk’s lips press against every inch of your skin, leaving no spot untouched.

You shudder when his hot breath meets your inner thighs, threatening to close them. He wraps his thick arms around your legs, digging his fingers into your hips, pinning you to the mattress.

He keeps his eyes trained on your face as you tremble beneath his touch. He kitten licks your clit, careful as to not overwhelm you. But you quickly melt into the pillows, gripping his hair between your fingers.

Jeongguk wants to commit this to memory. The way that you look so angelic in this light.

Quiet whimpers escape from your parted lips. “You don’t have to hold back,” he reminds you. “Be as loud as you want. Nobody’s home. We have all the time in the world, and I want you to feel good.”

He wraps his lips around your clit, sucking softly on the bundle of nerves until you’re writhing against his mouth. Soon enough, you grind your hips, practically riding his face like a needy slut, desperate and wanting.

The moans slip out of your mouth freely, and Jeongguk grows harder at how pretty you are, lost in pleasure. He begins to rut his hips against the mattress, seeking some kind of relief for his aching cock.

His tongue slips between your walls, licking up the arousal that seeps down your thighs. His chin is coated in your wetness, and he’s utterly obsessed with your taste.

Your nails dig into his hair, pulling on the roots. He elicits a moan against your core, and you’re muttering apologies, “sorry, ‘m sorry.” Yet you continue to grind your cunt against his tongue, proving that you’re not sorry at all.

Your grip loosens, but Jeongguk whines at the loss of tension. “Feels good, angel, don’t stop.”

He quickly grabs your hands and places them on the top of his head, encouraging you to tug as hard as you want. He’s obsessed with your taste, but he’s also addicted to the pain that you inflict on him.

He dips his tongue between your walls, reaching as far as he can go. He smiles against your core as if he’s the one enjoying himself ー and truly, he is. He can’t get enough of you. Jeongguk loves to bury his face into your sweet pussy, making out with your cunt. His chin is doused in your essence, and he wants more. He needs to see you dripping in cum so he can taste you straight from the source.

“Guk, it feels weird,” you choke on your words, pressing your hands against your tummy. The tears cascade down your cheeks as your high builds in the pit of your stomach.

“Shh, shh, angel,” he hushes before dropping a thick glob of spit onto your entrance. He can’t believe that you’ve never come in your life. Have you never played with your cute little cunt before?

Jeongguk laps your clit while he works a finger into you, gliding between your tight walls. He pushes another one in, watching you stretch around his digits. In the back of his mind, he wonders how you’ll be able to take his cock when you can hardly take his fingers. He curls them inside of you, slowly adding a third.

You will yourself to pick your head up, allowing your gaze to meet his. The sight before you is filthy beyond belief. You can’t believe that Jeongguk is making out with your naughty pussy, and you love it. His fingers are gliding inside of you, reaching places you’ve never reached before. He’s humping the mattress, trying to satiate his throbbing cock that’s leaking through his boxers.

“Guk- love, I-”

“Just let go. Come for me,” his husky voice vibrates against your cunt.

At the sound of his command, you unravel on his tongue, shuddering beneath his strong hold. Your cunt pulses as waves of pleasure rip through you. Soft moans flow through your parted lips, and it’s suddenly Jeongguk’s new favorite melody.

He watches you fall apart with hearts in his eyes. His hands wrap around your thighs, holding you in place as he fucks you through your climax. You’ve never felt a sensation this strong before. It doesn’t even compare when you’re high on adrenaline.

Yet Jeongguk laps your pussy as if he’s a puppy, so eager to please you as he collects all of your cum on his tongue. He wants you as much as you’ll allow. Before the overstimulation sets in, you have to weakly tap his shoulder, pushing him away as your thighs close around his head.

He presses a smooch to your clit before finally pulling back. “How did that feel?”

“Never felt anything like that before,” you gasp, trying to catch your breath. “C- can you show me how to touch you too?” The innocent look in your eyes drives him absolutely mad. “Wanna make you feel good.” You palm him through his boxers, and he groans at your touch.

Fuck. “Tonight’s about you, angel.” Jeongguk curses at himself because you look so pretty batting your eyelashes at him. You’re practically begging to suck him off, and he can’t bring himself to say yes. Your hands dip beneath his underwear, gliding your hands up and down his throbbing cock.

Jeongguk thinks that he might be in heaven. “Aren’t you too tired? I’ve already made you come once.”

But you shake your head, “I want more, please? I can take it. Will you please give it to me?”

“I- I don’t have a condom,” he confesses.

“Don’t care, I need you.” Your hands roam across the planes of his chest before settling on the back of his neck. You pull him closer until your lips brush against his. “Need you so bad…” You subconsciously roll your hips, grinding your bare cunt against his thigh, pleading ー begging for him to sink his cock inside of you to relieve the ache. “It hurts,” you murmur.

What else is Jeongguk supposed to do when his baby is aching, begging and pleading for his help? So he pulls his cock out of his boxers, tossing the offensive material out of the way. Your mouth waters as your eyes meet his length.

“It’s not gonna fit,” you shake your head. Surely, he could split you open with his sheer girth. “You’re too big.”

Jeongguk wraps his hand around his length, jerking himself off before pressing the length of his thick cock onto your stomach, measuring how deep he could possibly go. The pretty tip rests against your belly button. Jeon Jeongguk could actually break you, and you would let him.

“Are you sure you want to do this? We can stop-”

You shake your head with desperate vigor, and your imploring hands reach for his broad shoulders. “Just- just go slow, okay?”

Jeongguk pairs his lips with yours in a sweet kiss, “I’ll take care of you. I promise.” He releases a thick glob of spit onto your cunt before rubbing the tip of his cock against your core, spreading the sloppy mess across your mound. He drags his tip against your lips before slowly pushing into your soaked cunt.

You gasp upon feeling the intrusion, squeezing your eyes shut.

Jeongguk nibbles the column of your neck, whispering quiet praises against your skin to distract you from the discomfort. He looks down to see barely half of his length tucked inside of you, yet your walls are stretched to accommodate him. At the pit of your stomach, there’s a bulge where the tip of his cock prods against your cunt. It protrudes against your tummy, leaving an indentation. He can quite literally watch his dick plow into you.

“Angel, look at how well you take me,” he groans.

You will yourself to open your eyes, seeing how he stuffs you to the brim. The visual is so filthy.

“God, I’ve been dreaming of this.” Jeongguk drops another glob of spit where his length meets your cunt, allowing the glide to be more effortless. The way that your pretty pussy struggles to make room for him is the hottest thing he’s ever seen. His eyes roll back as he squeezes your waist, trying to regain an ounce of composure.

“You’ve been thinking about this? About us?” You clench upon hearing his deepest desires.

He curses under his breath, not knowing how much longer he’d last if you’re already this tight wrapped around his cock. “You have no idea-” When he rests his head against your shoulder, panting, another inch sinks inside of you. “Sorry, ‘m sorry. You just feel so fucking good.”

His rough hands wander across your body, mapping every inch of your skin, committing it to memory. Jeongguk taps his fingers against your lips as he requests you to ‘open up.’ As obedient as you are, you part your lips, allowing him to slip his digits inside.

“Suck on my fingers,” he coos as he pushes himself further into your sweet pussy. “That’s my good girl.” He pulls his calloused fingers out of your mouth, and they find home onto your clit as he rubs figure eights onto your bundle of nerves. It serves as a distraction from the slight sting of resistance where his cock stretches your walls.

But for Jeongguk, this feels like heaven. He resists the urge to sheathe himself into your virgin cunt, down to the hilt. “Can’t believe that I get to see you like this.”

Jeongguk seriously can’t believe how fortunate he is that he’s your first. Nobody has ever touched you the way that Jeongguk does. Nobody will ever fuck you or make you come the way that he will. And certainly, nobody will ever get to see you act like a desperate little slut. You belong to Jeongguk just as he belongs to you. And this is the privilege he gets when you’re his wife.

You watch his face twist in concentration as he works himself into you. His biceps bulge, and his skin dimples beneath the pressure of your fingers when you squeeze his arm. They feel so rock solid beneath your touch. So strong and so, so reliable like the Jeongguk you know and love. You whimper simply because he’s hot, and you could never resist him.

“S- something wrong?” He stills his hips inside of you, and his cock pulses.

“N- no,” you whine, shaking your head. “Just wanna hold your hand.” You scratch down his biceps as you paw at his chest. Even when he’s buried inside of you, it’s still not enough. You need him, and you need all of him.

He grabs both of your hands, softly squeezing them as he pins them on either side of your head. Jeongguk cages you against the mattress as he presses his body weight against yours, plunging his cock deeper and deeper between your walls, inch by inch.

Your chest heaves when his hips press against yours, completely buried inside of you, and a silent cry slips past your lips. Tears begin to form in the corner of your eyes.

“Just breathe for me, angel, okay? Relax, ease up for me. I know it’s uncomfortable now, but you’ll feel so good, I swear.”

You nod your head, and you can’t help but cry. You just feel so full. Two twin tears trail down your cheeks, and Jeongguk is quick to kiss them away.

He soothes his thumb over the back of your hand as he praises you. “You’re doing so well for me. Such a good girl. You can take it, right? You can take it all for me.”

You nod your head, letting the tears fall down like summer rain. “I can take it, I swear-” You sound so choked up, and it’s probably due to the fact that Jeongguk is so fucking deep, you can practically feel him in your throat.

“Move, please, I need you so bad.” The broken sob rips out of your throat as you cry in desperation.

He pulls out with a shallow thrust, wanting to be as close to you as possible. Looking down, he can see where his cock fucks into you, where there’s a bulge that shadows every single one of his thrusts. He takes your hand down to rub over the protrusion.

“Can you feel me? Right here?” He quickly slides out of you before pressing his hips flush against yours in one swift motion.

A deep groan rumbles through his chest, sending a deep vibration through your body. His breath is hot against your lips, and you can actually feel him in your tummy. You can feel him everywhere.

“How’s it, angel?”

“Feels full-” you manage to choke the words out of your mouth.

“Too much?” Jeongguk asks. His breath is shaky as he plows his hips against yours. His cock twitches inside of you, and he really doesn’t want to pull out. But if you had asked, he wouldn’t hesitate to do so.

Thank God for your insatiability because you shake your head as you bring your intertwined hand to your lips, pressing a kiss to his skin. “Feels good- keep going, please,” you beg.

“See? I knew you could take it like a good girl.”

Soon enough, the discomfort subsides, and all you can feel is pleasure in the pit of your stomach. Jeongguk fucks into you until he bottoms out, prodding at the spot that has you seeing stars. Your eyes begin to cross, obsessed with the way he fills you up, turning you into a stuttering mess.

“Oh my god, feels s’ good, Guk- Don’t stop,” you cry, wrapping your legs tightly around his waist to keep him close.

Your mouth falls open and drool begins to slip from the corner of your lips. Jeongguk wedges his tongue into your mouth, swirling your spit and saliva together into one hungry mess.

He shifts his attention to your sensitive neck as he sucks on the column of your throat. A mark begins to bloom above your collarbone. If anyone were to doubt your marriage and the fact that you belonged to Jeongguk, there would be no reason to do so now.

The only thing you can focus on is the way that Jeongguk pokes your cervix, and you want nothing more but for him to flood your womb. Your heavy lidded eyes fall shut, your head lolls, and your cheek rests against the pillow.

But Jeongguk refuses to let you look away. His hand hooks around your jaw, and his fingers dig into your cheek. “Look at me,” he demands. “Want to see you when you come.” He lifts your face off the pillow and presses his lips against yours.

Jeongguk gives deep and pointed thrusts into your cunt. He grips your hands so tightly, but you welcome the embrace. His hips snap against yours, rutting into your battered hole as you desperately chase your high.

“‘m sorry, princess, am I too rough?” He mouths against your lips. “Just f- feels so good around me. So tight n’ warm. You’re s’ perfect.”

You shake your head in desperation. “N- no, I love it-” You love him. “I’m close,” you cry, overwhelmed with emotions.

“Come for me, angel,” he groans into your ear, pressing kisses against your nose, your cheek, your lips. He squeezes your hands, never letting you go.

He pounds into you once, twice, three-four times, bullying his cock into you, and you come undone with the rough snap of his hips. You tremble in his arms, feeling this orgasm tenfold compared to the last. Cum begins to seep out of your cunt, drenching Jeongguk’s cock until there’s a ring of cream at the base of his length.

You tight little cunt clenches around him as if you never want him to leave. He finds it hard to breathe when you look so beautiful, so pretty, and just so cute caged beneath him. As much as he wants to come inside of you and stuff you full, Jeongguk is quick to pull out when he feels his climax approach. He glides his cock against your cunt, rutting against your lips. He paints your stomach with ribbons of white cum, groaning at the lewdness of it all.

Thoughts of Jeongguk breeding your cunt flashes through your mind ー having him flood you with cum round after round until you can have a happy little family of four.

Obscene images of you doing this again and again in different positions send your mind racing. You want him to bury himself to the hilt with your knees pinned against your chest. If only he could flood your womb as he holds you by the back of your thighs in a mating press. Maybe you can come when you’re on all fours, on your hands and knees. Or you could take him down your throat as deep as you can go, choking and gagging on his length with saliva dribbling out of your lips. Although you’re certain that you could barely take half of him considering his size and your inexperience. But Jeongguk can teach you, and you can practice night after night until he absolutely ruins you.

“So much cum,” you murmur, admiring the liquid that rests on your tummy. You swipe your fingers across your stomach before sticking them in your mouth. Jeongguk’s cock twitches at the sight of you so desperate for a taste.

He presses a kiss to your forehead, “How was it?”

“Can we do it again?” Your eyes glimmer with wishful thinking. It’s safe to say that you had the best night of your life.

Jeongguk sputters a laugh, shaking his head. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

He carries you to the bathroom, making sure you use the toilet to prevent UTIs. Meanwhile, he runs a bath for you where he lathers lavender shampoo in your hair and rubs the knots from your sore shoulders, down to your hips and legs. Between soft giggles and splashes of water, you share sweet kisses and loving stares. Before your fingers can prune, Jeongguk lifts you out of the tub and dries you off with a warm towel.

The two of you tangle beneath the sheets. But before you fall asleep to the sound of one another’s heartbeat, you ask Jeongguk the question that’s been on your mind.

“I was just wondering… Do you like to be called daddy?”

His lips meet your forehead before tucking you closer to his chest. “Go to sleep, angel. We’ll talk about it tomorrow.”

Jeongguk, in fact, does like to be called daddy among a plethora of other vulgar words. This vital piece of information is not necessary for the Hwa Yang interview, but you tuck that specific fact into the recesses of your brain for future reference.

Because the truth is, you don’t have enough time to memorize Jeongguk’s life story. You can save that for another day. The Hwa Yang interview is in less than a week, and you have to save all of your brain space for relevant ー appropriate information. Such as the values of your family and the importance of education in your lives.

Thankfully, as Jeongguk’s informant, Seokjin managed to snag sample questions that the interviewers are likely to ask: What type of person do you want your child to grow up to be? What is your child’s school experience like thus far? What are some habits you practice to help your child acclimate to the academic rigor of this school?

So Jeongguk, Minji, and you work tirelessly to come up with the perfect answers that give the impression that you are a family exuding elegance. In the eyes of the admissions director, it basically means that you have to rival the royal family.

Minji should have interests beyond her plushies and her manhwas, something along the lines of tennis, horseback riding, or crossword puzzles. She has to continue with her studies ー global history, foreign affairs, music theory, and yes, even her sworn enemy, mathematics. At the mere age of five, she should obtain fluency in a second language (which is apparently really impressive if you’re the royal heir to the British empire).

All of this preparation proves to be handy because at the academy, the board of interviewers ask about Minji’s interests and her hobbies. They want to know what type of learner she is and how she can contribute to the fast paced learning environment.

Although Minji is exceptional as she is, you can’t help but wonder why a child has to be a prodigy to be deemed as someone worthy of a good education. What’s wrong with simply existing? What’s wrong with being average? Because if the price of being average is being a decent human being, you would rather take your chances at a different school.

The sound of the headmaster’s voice breaks you out of your reverie. “I want to ask Minji what a typical day in the household looks like.”

She straightens her posture upon hearing her name. “I start the day when eomma wakes me up and helps me get ready for kindergarten. She double checks to make sure my homework and my school supplies are in my bag. She also packs extra clothes for me just in case. Appa makes breakfast in the kitchen, and when we finish eating, they walk me to school-”

The headmaster crinkles his brows. A look of confusion crosses his features. “Does your father always cook for the family?”

“Yes, appa usually cooks because eomma works really hard. Sometimes, she comes home with aches and pains because of all the energy she uses.” Minji shifts her gaze to her father, trying to gauge whether her answer is acceptable. Meanwhile, your eyes are filled with concern, worried she’ll somehow expose your criminal history. “But eomma always helps when she can. She goes to the market, and she does the laundry. She also makes tea for appa and hot chocolate for me. She helps me with my homework even if I don’t like fractions.” Minji says the last part in a hushed whisper.

“Really? Is your mother someone you aspire to be? Despite your father being the one to prepare your meals? It’s rather untraditional.”

“I don’t believe that question is pertinent to the interview. It’s quite leading,” Jeongguk states. His voice doesn’t falter, but there’s animosity in every breath that he takes. “I can assure you that my wife is a wonderful mother and role model to our daughter. Now may we please refocus our attention on Minji and her academics?” Jeongguk’s eyebrows furrow, and he is seething. He balls his hands into fists, resisting the urge to throw a right hook at the man across the table.

Instinctually, your fingers inch across the settee, reaching for Jeongguk’s hand in order to soothe his nerves. His shoulders relax upon feeling the heat of your skin as if to quietly remind him that everything is okay.

“Of course, I apologize.” The headmaster says diplomatically before jotting down a few words into his notebook. He raises his nose in the air as if he’s on some high horse.

The interview persists until the end of the hour, and Jeongguk remains at the edge of his seat. He holds his hand in yours to keep his composure intact. Thankfully, the dean of admissions and the executive advisor have more tasteful questions to ask.

However, it doesn’t last long. The headmaster intercepts once again. “Mrs. Jeon, I noticed that your documents indicate you are Minji’s stepmother, correct? Do you ever feel some kind of disconnect considering that you are not her biological mother?”

You’re taken aback by this impromptu question. You didn’t prepare an answer for this, although your natural response would be to wrap your hands around this man’s bare neck, wringing it dry. Yet you remain composed for the sake of Jeongguk and Minji. You can feel Jeongguk hold your hand tighter in his. But you pat his wrist, serving as both a warning and a comforting acknowledgement.

“I love Minji as a daughter, just as any other mother. To me, it doesn’t matter if she’s not my blood relative. We’ve grown really close ever since we’ve met. I admit that I have never been a mom myself, and I’m faced with a new learning curve every single day. But isn’t that what motherhood is? It’s nothing I’m not used to. Growing up, I raised my younger brother. At work, I take care of children from all different backgrounds. Surely, I make mistakes, but I think every parent leaves a mark on their child no matter what they do. Sometimes it’s a stain. Other times it’s a break, a bend, or a crack. Other parents can splinter their kids, but I hope that I never get to that point. I’m not perfect, but I’m constantly trying to be better. I love Minji more than anything.”

“So you never feel any sense of inadequacy or resentment?” The headmaster has the audacity to question your parenting skills.

Jeongguk cannot stand to hear the headmaster criticize you anymore. In a blink of an eye, he slams his fist against the coffee table. The wood splits in half beneath the brute force of his hand, and you’re quite impressed by the display of action.

“This is wildly inappropriate for an interview. This entire time, you’ve done nothing but berate my wife because we do not have a conventional family. We’re not wealthy people. We work hard for what we do. We take care of one another in a way that only we know and understand. If you can’t accept that, then maybe this is not the school that we want our child to be enrolled in.” Jeongguk’s chest heaves as he says his peace.

He doesn’t even take another moment to listen to the headmaster. There’s nothing he could say that could warrant forgiveness. So Jeongguk picks up his daughter, and he grabs your hand before storming out of the interview room.

Jeongguk is going to have a difficult time explaining to his boss why he’s failed his mission.

“I’m sorry I messed up Minji’s chance of going to Hwa Yang.” You tug at the sleeves of your dress as you stare at the floor.

Back at Jeongguk’s apartment, you sink into the couch, allowing the weight of the situation to finally settle.

Jeongguk rests his hand on your shoulders, turning you so that you can meet his gaze. “You didn’t mess up anything.” His eyes are filled with warmth, but you feel as if you don’t deserve it.

“We worked so hard for this, and it was all for nothing.”

There’s still residual rage that flows through his veins. “Nothing? Don’t say that. Don’t you know that I lo-”

Your heart lurches out of your chest as you stare at him in awe. He loves you?

Jeongguk’s hands shift to hold your cheeks, running his calloused thumb against the edge of your jaw. He sighs, trying to collect his thoughts. “We have each other, and that’s all that matters at the end of the day, okay? We couldn’t anticipate that they’d be so cruel. I would defend you over anything in this world. So don’t you dare say that this was all for nothing.”

He pulls you into a tight hug, tucking your head beneath his chin. You can hear the sound of his heart beat, beating only for you. It’s distracting enough for you to miss his whispered declaration: “I’m seriously gonna marry you someday.”

Minji climbs onto the couch, wedging herself between her parents. “If I don’t get accepted, I don’t have to go to school, right?”

The two of you peel away from the embrace, glaring at Minji, shaking your heads. “No, you have to go,” you simultaneously declare with stern conviction.

Minji huffs a sigh, looking downcast. But when her stomach grumbles, you effectively put an end to your pity party. You and Jeongguk drop everything, scurrying into the kitchen to prepare dinner for your precious daughter. She worked hard, and she did her very best. You all did.

…

Tucked away into the busy streets of Seoul, there’s a tiny little apartment on the second story filled with music and laughter.

While the water boils for the buckwheat noodles, Jeongguk watches over his precious family, reading the instructions for the sauce. All you need is a mixture of perilla oil, cham sauce, buldak sauce, buldak mayo, egg yolk, and a generous amount of furikake. But when you and Minji measure out everything to perfection, you cheer for one another as if you’ve made a meal worthy of praise from the world renown Gordon Ramsey.

When the noodles are ready, you all gather around the table and laugh to your heart's content. You fill your stomachs with starch, a heavy amount of spice, and plenty of love. You dote on one another, too distracted with the loving family you’ve created to notice anything outside of your little bubble.

This moment is yours, and yours alone. This is your happy place, and nobody can take it away from you. Not even the sound of the answering machine, echoing from the quaint living room.

“Due to your family’s impressive display of integrity at the institution’s interview, I would like to extend an offer to enroll Jeon Minji into the prestigious Hwa Yang Academy. Congratulations, and we hope to hear from you soon.”

#jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts scenario #bts imagine #bts x reader #bts fan fic #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts fan fiction

4K notes · View notes

yoonieper · 5 months ago

Text

For the Birds Masterlist | JJK

I want you to stay even though you don’t want me.

As the son of the CEO at Golden Tech, a marriage was arranged in the name of business. Jungkook really tried to make the most of his situation and be the best husband he could be, but no matter how much he tried, his wife just doesn’t seem to want him. Then you… you came into his life and his eyes couldn’t help but wander.

♡ Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

♡ Genre: angst, fluff, smut, this is a slow burn!

♡ Spotify |◁ Playlist (feel free to recommend songs!) ▷| Apple Music

♡ Series Warnings: Lots of smut (not always healthy), cheating, discussions of depression, this series includes Jk in a pretty toxic environment, degradation (not the sexy kind), manipulation, and overall Jk being in an emotionally abusive situation! Please read with caution ⚠️!

♡ Key: ❁ fluff | ❅ angst | ❥ smut

⚠️ This series contains depictions of possibly triggering topics such as dealing with symptoms of depression. Any chapters that could be especially triggering, will be marked with the emoji at the beginning!

Before you start…

For the Birds Aesthetics

The Contract (Important!)

Prologue | ❅, ❥

Part 1 | ❅, ❥

Part 2 | ❅

Part 3 | ❅, ❥

Part 4 | ❅, ❥

Part 5 | ❅, ❥

Part 6– Coming September 15th

Part 7– Coming September 30th

Part 8– Coming October 15th

Part 9– Coming October 30th

Part 10– Coming November 15th

Part 11– Coming November 30th

Part 12– Coming January 15th

Part 13– Coming January 30th

More Coming Soon After a Small Intermission!

*Note these dates may be subject to change— currently the prologue through part 13 has been completed. However depending on holidays, other fic postings, or life events that might come in the way, the dates may vary slightly. In general though 'For the Birds' will be posted bimonthly, once in the middle of the month and a second time at the end of the month. For specifics, I will post announcements letting you guys know about any change and also will edit the date on the masterlist!

Asks related to For the Birds

For other works and updates regarding the series please follow and refer to my masterlist!

#for the birds masterlist #bts #jungkook #jungkook x reader #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #jungkook smut #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bangtan boys #bangtan sonyeondan #bts fan fiction #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst

1K notes · View notes

cornyforjk · 2 months ago

Text

Drive you crazy | Day 1 | jjk

SUMMARY In which you are stuck living with an arrogant rookie racer who thinks of you as an obstacle, ready to ruin your glory, but things get heated when he has a pervy smile hidden under that pretentious attitude. Emotions that are complicated. You could never fall for your enemy! He's sabotaging you.

Pairing: racer!jk × racer!oc

Genre: angst and pure filth smut

Warnings: trash language only for now.

A/note: HI I'M SCARED BUT HI ALL THE BEST HAVE FUN . First chapter out and I am already head over heels for this Jungkook. I'd say to keep your hobi water ready anytime cause the spice never ends.

___________________♡____________________

"You'd be better off as a pornstar, why not start an only fans page."

The guy beside me whispered as I clenched my fist, a helmet covering his face. Well he was lucky the helmet was there to protect him, or else by now, his limbs would've fallen apart, bit by bit until he was screeching for mercy.

"Stay out of my way." My helmet was a barrier to the fiery glare I was sending his side. I heard him emit an audible but distressed sigh as his tongue clicked in disappointment.

I scanned him from head to toe, not as if I knew him, but my desire to call him a "gay stripper" grew stronger with each tap on the floor.

I close my eyes, collecting my thoughts that were scattered around an endless black hole. Echoes of heels clicking against the floor catching my attention, ear perking up I fix my posture, shoulders rolling back, clearing my parched throat.

A woman with huge circular glasses resting on the bridge of her nosewalked in. Her pencil skirt accentuated her broad hips, her blue eyes fixed on the notepad wrapped around her arm, and the silver metallic pen held her elegant hairstyle together.

She was the definition of what I call 'classy'.

I suddenly felt my shoulders slouch down when her blue icy eyes scanned me, her orbs slowly widening in astonishment. I raise my hand giving a small wave with a crooked smile.

Maybe that was a bit too crooked. Screw it! She can't see me.

"Ahh..." I suddenly squealed under her intense gaze that was scanning me over and over again, pushing the glasses that adorned her button nose back. She cleared her throat grazing over her notepad one last time.

"Lady, you know I am still here, right? Maybe you can do this goo-goo eyes after I'm checked in." The guy beside me commented, earning an eye roll which he couldn't witness. I stomp over his boots, almost throwing my whole weight on his foot.

"OUCH!" He grunts, turning my way, maybe or maybe not glaring like Donald Trump after he found out his steak was cooked medium rare and not brought alive.

"Fight me you ceramic bitch!" He shrieks, ready to throw hands. I hide behind the elegant woman for protection who just watched us bicker.

She cleared her throat again, catching me off guard. She turns my way. "Jungkook and Y/n?" She pursed her lips, narrowed cat-like eyes waiting for our nods.

"Jungkook...more like junk looks," I coughed out, wheezing at that lame pun, perhaps no one has the sense of humour of a five-year-old. The world is turning tables pretty quick.

"Ms Y/n, you aren't supposed to be here?" She waits for my reaction as I freeze on spot.

"What do you mean I am not supposed to be here?" My voice slightly rising, "I checked in myself as the new rookie in racing." I practically throw air quotes at her statement, panic wavering in my

voice.

The so-called guy 'Jungkook' choked, his broad chest heaving up and down as he laughed.

Did I say something funny?

"You are at the wrong location, I think there was an error in our system while registering you, we may have added your name to the wrong list." She ran her index finger across her crisp notepad, eyes moving back and forth like a hawk.

"No, no, no, no-no." I gasped, "do you know how long it took me to persuade my sponsor?! This is my only chance to race; if I don't enter, all of my years of preparation will be in vain."

She looked at me with sympathy. "Can't you make any changes to send me there?"

"I'm sorry...you won't be able to reach in time and we cannot let you go until the board takes a look at this major mistake and have you safely enter your designated place."

She tapped her foot on the marble floor.

Suddenly my head dropped, audibly sighing as my fingers tapped against my thighs. Just one opportunity is given...and it will all wash over like golden sand at the seashore.

"Okay, sad. Moving on, I'd like the Keys to my quarters." Jungkook arrogantly demanded, pushing his hand in front of the woman. She looked at him with no emotion, rolling her eyes, once again checking the name list.

Think Y/n! Think!

I felt my heart clench, the corner of my eyes collided with the water. My craving to have wind tangled in my locks while the engine roared at the starting line with determined racers kept increasing.

That desire in my heart burning stronger than any fuel.

"I can race here!" I exclaimed, earning a groan from the tall man beside me. The woman blinked her eyes, glasses almost falling off her snatched nose.

"Excuse me?"

"Well, I can race on this track here in California, till then your board can sort out all their work." Adrenaline rushed in my veins like hope, secretly fist-pumping the air. Finally, this could work out.

"Listen up kiddo, this is California. Here racers make history. They don't sit on the track to have some pink princess tea party, so you can take that bag of yours and move your ass out of this place because you don't belong here." His words were foul, a snarl creeping on.

He was filled with bitterness, swiftly peeling off the helmet on his face. His action left me speechless.

His ethereal beauty was hidden behind the helmet; his soft, glowing skin was the centre of attention; his doe-like eyes were pools of overflowing emotions; his soft lips, the bottom one a little fuller, a mole on his cheek and one under his lip.

I would've stumbled on my face gazingat such charm if only he wasn't being a jerk.

"It's because women aren't usually seen racing here, in fact for the last 50 years no women had the guts to continue on this track." The woman abruptly spoke. I felt the uncertainty in her voice. She was trying to cover up for that jerk.

"but there is no rule against women racing here." I protested back.

"Yes there isn't but-" "Then I race here."

Jungkook's intense stare had my knees go weak. I could feel the sharpness and cold wrath all at once. An unspoken cold blooded war was rising between us.

"What do you think you are doing?" Jungkook exclaimed, his warm hand skimming on my shoulder, the grip crushing my meek corpse.

His jaw clenched and eyes obscuring, he glowered behind the lustrous locks covering his orbs that bled out of outrage.

outrage.

Staring into his eyes my body shook violently, I harshly pushed him away, disgusted by the warmth his hands held. "Don't touch me." My eyes were bloodshot red, wrapping my hands around my torso.

"I won't be outmanoeuvred by a jerk. Especially you, Jungkook."

___________________♡____________________

Teaser | Day2

DM me or send me an ask to be added in the taglist.

510 notes · View notes

watashijeon · 1 year ago

Text

Mon Ange. | KTH

listen while reading — Is there someone else The Weeknd

— I made you mine, or so it seemed. I might as well be two feet tall. You never will love me at all. —

You’re calling out for his name, nothing can kill this moment. He feels sweetness and ease.. never has he let himself slip. But tonight is his birthday or so it was hours before.

Nonetheless, nothing could kill the stillness.

"Hm?" he’s mumbling with his speech, nose buried into pretty flushed skin. He feels confused, feeling you still when your words came out so blurred in his mind.

“I have to tell you something.”

Completely lost now where this was going, he stills his touch. Awkward and stiff, you make eye contact for what you are about to say.

He doesn’t understand the build up, he just wish you would say what it was. Maybe you had to take some time away from him due to your work.. he understood, he didn’t mind that.

"I think we should end our arrangement."

Oh. It’s so different from what he had just suspected, why does his heart feel like it just plummeted to another oblivion of nothing?

Taehyung doesn’t care, he’s undisciplined and chaotic with his very few next actions.

You need to leave. Freezing up, ready for his immediate impulse, because you know him like the back of your hand. The man picks you right off from his lap, rather rough and he would have time to regret on the meanness of it later.

He’s quick to pointing his hand open palm stiff and stern to the now sad wrinkled dress on the floor that laid lonely.

“Well, go on then.”

Your eyes looked at him pained, you had not a clue what his reaction really meant but you moved. Wiggling on your dress, back faced to him before looking once more to see his distracted stare. He is so out of it now, he doesn’t know.

“You understand.. right, Tae?” oh why must you speak so sweet to him using his shorten nickname in that especially nauseating sweet voice, even the way you are ending this is a million times nicer than he has ever ended a fling with a person.

“I do, bye.”

He’s being so mean, harsh and rude.

Taehyung hopes you won’t dwell on it or let it hurt your heart like it will to his very own.

But somehow he wants it to pain you, make you feel the same burn and ripping he feels in his chest right now. What did he do wrong?

“Goodbye Taehyung.” and that was it, the door clicked and so did his very front one. Left with the forbidden but likely delicious and perfect red velvet cake you’ve made, and a gift that sat perfectly next to it wrapped in his favorite color for wrapping paper on his kitchen island.

And indeed you had to make his favorite cake flavor, meaning you remembered the stupid detail when he told you on a night together.

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

He remembers so clearly on the morning you stayed after for the first time coming over for six months. The two of you had lazed in his bed between tangled limbs and sheets “I will, I will protect you.” your lips dropped into a pout tracing your nimble finger over the man’s jaw.

How could you even say that when you leave him not much later, he doesn’t get it. This isn’t like you at all. Maybe being in pained denial he couldn’t accept the sore fact that someone made the first move on with abandonment.

You weren’t supposed to lie, it’s uncalled for and unacceptable. But even deep down the man knew he was being ignorant, he’s lied to many people to avoid hurt and it was his own field of career to lie if necessary.. that’s all you were trying to do.

The man can’t dare to muster up to think you have a bad bone in your little body that was filled of nothing less of kindness. But right now he won’t be rational with his assumptions.

He’s angry and selfish with dire need for your presence now all over again, no matter the situation that this is. But whatever really, big deal that you are gone. He will find someone else to fuck his life into, you are no different from any other living human with a hole.

…

He pauses.

Never mind that, fuck that. He deserves a good and perfect reason for why you did this.. leaving him in the dark, quite literally. Taehyung can't stand not talking to you even if he never took time to speak so much into your conversations. He still appreciated all of your efforts and presence you put into whatever what you had was, now it’s all fucking gone.

He used to act upon impulse when he would have multiple play things through out the month. But you, you make him stop to think. It makes him wrinkle his nose because he does not have a clue why you turn him to be this way. It’s simply you being you, no spell.. no great manipulation in your words. Just you.

In the beginning of this arrangement he was reluctant given the age gap, especially with the relation that you were a long time family client of his.

Once he became enthralled with someone.. he could say it took a lot to kill it.

You weren’t the only one that had the privilege, he’s turned thirty two this year and definitely doesn’t have enough fingers to count on with how many girls he has used up and nicely dumped off to the side — kindly.

Sparing the honest reason that he needs to focus on his career before weeks later he would latch claws into his new toy, it’s only painstakingly different now.

Much different because he had never held onto a “toy” for over a few months at a time, the man liked variety and trying new things. With you in the picture, it was sickening at the fact that he grew real attachment to every little thing about you. It made him want you more. While he is nothing great of the sort for you, he was only a warm body to give you what was desired. You gave him your body and time, in return he would give you lust driven pleasure.

He was the one who established what you two were from the great beginning, he was not allowed to feel betrayed and cheated. Someone could hate him and he would cackle at that, a girl could scream at the stoic man and he’d chuckle again. Once you lose his interest there is no winning him back, it's as if getting stuck in a never ending pit of quick sand that could swallow you in pitiful eyes. He thinks it’s valid to feel this way, he’s coming to terms with the whole ordeal of what all this was.

Being your damn family lawyer and you had met him when you were the young age of nineteen, a mere baby. It definitely took some time for him to be ok with the fact that he would end up fucking you almost weekly with your given age — he’s not a pervert.. right? But you were a mature girl as you grew up, he liked you for this reason.. different and good for whatever he wanted and still you set healthy boundaries not letting him walk over your toes.

Time will pass nicely, right? He will be fine and move on — find someone even better. A little reflecting won’t hurt his soul.

It has been a little over two months since the grouch for a man has seen you, turning slowly into the twentieth century version for Scrooge.

Promising himself each day he would not give in and call you, you will be the one to run back.

He’s been saying that to himself since the day you up and left.. now his very once high and wild ego was now dwindling day by day and he is pissed beyond belief, because wow, wowww. You really did leave him as if he planned to do the exact for you in the beginning of meeting with you, that was before he caught a liking and it was only for your body, of course.

Yes.. that’s what is was. It was only really your gorgeous body that gave him pleasure to see you again and again, never mind the fact of your amazing personality or one of a kind glowing aura that brought a sweet genuine smile on his usual crest fallen features.

Broken from his reverie he’s receiving a call, he’s been sat still buried in his office since six am. It’s how he gets through his days to not think about you or testing the waters of calling.

The phone clicks and clatters, he needs to get himself a new desk phone or better yet just buy another smartphone. Huffing and puffing, he inhales and exhales seeing the caller id.

“Hello, it’s been awhile sir.”

It’s your father, he has to fake a front for the sake of niceties and also being civil because your very own damn dad has been using the Kim’s for any law or business relations since Taehyung was probably born, he’ll complain and grumble later on to a nice white wall of his.

“Oh yes! Things have been crazed.”

Taehyung really wonders about that, a hotel tycoon can only get so wild and crazed.. right?

“Hmm, I understand. What can I help you with.”

“Ah, Mr Kim. let’s get down to it—“ the grinch for a man licks and licks his lips again out of great big habit, becoming nervous of the lingering for just how long it takes this man to get to a point. Many clicks and clattering over the other line.. the older would continue.

“So, I need to talk through some paperwork with you regarding about merging contracts.”

“Go on, sir.” he can’t be this vague.. come on. Shouldn’t he know better than to speak so small about important shit, god help his ticking time bomb for patience being not a virtue.

Ping

If silence could kill it would be deathly here and now, he receives the paper work faxed over. A skim and scan later — Taehyung feels his heart plummet to places beyond his comprehension.

It’s just so now, he realizes your father has been blabbering about whatever this whole time.

“What is this all for?”

His eyes ogle and ogle for more than a few times he could count, reading the bold letters of “Marital License and Contract Briefing.”

“Well if it wasn’t obvious, our dear y/n is going to get married next month. We have set her up with the perfect man who is a well respected hotelier heir, a perfect match for our family.”

Of course.. of course your father would set you up with a person that is in the same position of business as him, you probably had no word or real say in this. God, why does he feel wrath and anger. He wants to rip his hair out straight.

He should be happy for you, your new husband to be probably feels like home in his arms.

So much that he bets he mends you with warm healing long hugs, and utterly disgusting kind smiles that remind you of honey mixed into sweet vanilla, your very two favorite things.

He continued to offer your father a tight-lipped smile as if he could see him through the phone, briefly looking up from the contracts on his computer screen — faxed papers sitting nice and crisped on his desk. He thinks it’s best he ends this call now before he yells off.

“Ok sir, I’ll look over them and we will discuss the terms and things that will be strewn.”

“Oh that is great to hear! I invite you over tomorrow for tea, we will discuss all of the paperwork then. Yes?”

He won’t allow himself to think about that, he will agree just to get off this damn phone call.

“Yes sir, I’ll see you then, good night.”

Click.

He’s here, he can’t believe he actually came.

Sat in the way too high ceilings for a living area, he will blame it on why he feels this nauseated. God, he knows you live here obviously. It’s been your parents odd and traditional rule until you were ready to move out when they thought it was best, you always said that was why you still stayed with them. What he didn’t know was the bizarre underlying conditions were marriage.

“Ah Kim, here we are.” The meeting begins and ends with the blink of an eye.

It went awful in Taehyung’s eyes, he really didn’t want to hear about you getting married off for a great three hours. It left the man wanting to seethe and bite his mouth off until the older would finally shut up to take a puff or sip of liquor.

Then on he tried to laugh with your father.. even when it felt as if pearly teeth might crack with only how hard his jaw flexed shut.

Your father welcomes the man to stay over for only awhile longer, he won’t accept it, kindly.

He has to get going.. because someone (Taehyung) couldn’t handle on what all just happened. While the hag of your father thought it was a good idea to step out and take a call.

15 minutes before

It’s been minutes now and your father isn’t back, Taehyung decides to dwell around with his eyes to gawk at the various family portraits hung from generations before and other astray framed photographs of little you and family.

He has the urge to trace his finger along the frames but he won’t, definitely not now.

“Tae..?”

Like clockwork, Taehyung’s head cocks in nanoseconds to the spiraled staircase you stood by, gripping on the bar to keep stance.

You look gorgeous right now, still the same as before. He can’t help but let his eyes trail over your legs, he’s no better than any other man. He decides he can’t stare for much longer though, clearing his throat to cock his head off to the side in mimicking a fake neck crack.

“Hello.” he decides on, licking lips for the trillionth time and resting hands into pockets.

Your stare doesn’t stutter elsewhere, you copy him yourself — licking lips except only slower and more tantalizing. Or that’s how he sees it. He hated confrontation, one of his favorite things about you though.. is you’d ask too many questions every time you were around. He’d act like he hated it, but bathed in the attention and attentive wide eyes you once had all for him.

It’s only none of the many questions you’d ask would ever provoke the man to deflect, bother him up the wall and make him drop you soon later in his own sheer annoyance like usual. It’s happened to others, he’s an asshole but he could care less because at least he is honest.

Seeing you now gives him bitter sweetness for deja vu, the memory to when he saw you for the first time when you were eighteen — never having an ounce of interest in you then. You were a pesky teenager though, ogling the man like sweet candy for your taking. Nothing unusual he hadn’t encountered before.. only ever moving forward to do his job and ignore it.

That helped some.

Both of you finally interacted properly then when you were twenty, clear that you had matured fast and you were well with holding good conversation. While.. your dear father ran around with his head cut off like a chicken and leaving a bored lawyer Kim to wait for set business meetings to be done, you were lovely company at least.

Then somehow.. something happened, the day where he took your virginity in your childhood bathroom — it was your 21st birthday after all.

It was almost too universal how the world wanted you two to be alone at this awful time. But the moment happened so fast maybe too fast if he wants to dwell on it now, only once comforting the weeping girl that trembled in his arms to have you seconds under his grasp.

You had to, just had to look down at him with those puppy dog eyes choking a mere sob of “Am I not important.. is that what it is Tae?”

God he hated how you said his name, so sweet and quiet. Full of vulnerability and sadness.

He couldn’t allow a pretty girl like you, sobbing over something so minuscule on her birthday, he had a great plan of course. Comfort? No.

Fuck the sadness out of you, it will do you well.

It’s shameful at how he’s too old for your young sweet heart that still had much to see and live.. he’s nothing but rotten fruit at best.

But why did he want to stay selfishly so.

Your eyes did it in for him, they always did..

Corny and sappy he thinks.

He tries to move on with the passing thoughts of why do you need to be claimed now when he was starting to think he could have tried. He hopes you had at least one passing thought yourself of the what ifs and hows.

Present

All but nothing of silence settles between the two of you, no words are exchanged past that.

Eventually steps dissipate further from him to hear, you leave after the stare off you both shared — thankfully your father interrupts.

It’s been a few hours since you last saw him, you knew way before he was going to dial your phone. Doing exactly this, after your third attempt to ignore the countless calls you press accept to hear the expectant drawl of your name in stupor.

You’re sure he’s grinning dumb and widely boxy, almost as if youth takes over for these very small tipsy minutes. His vulnerability is clearly yours now, it’s so viable at how bad he is vying for attention.

You prepare yourself, clearing your throat and speaking as clear and stern as one could be.

“Hello?”

“Hmmmhmm, hello.”

There’s a pause, awkward, but he’s drunk so he likely doesn’t recognize the rising tension.

“Yes, Taehyung?”

There’s a giggle..? Oh my god he just giddily giggled at your voice. No, no your heart isn’t doing backflips — you’re just concerned.

“At your door, open sesame.” you can hear him try to knock like a madman — even if there’s visibly a buzzer that’s meant to be there so insiders could hear from the size of your parent’s insanely huge home.

Drunk Taehyung doesn’t know that though.

Fuck well, ok you guess. Thank god your father isn’t home for the night — you begin to panic but you can dissolve situations fine, it’s your strong suit or one of the many of them at least.

You practically lunge from your bed to tumble over down the stairs, trying to keep him half entertained while you tunnel yourself to the door before the maids could see the odd sight.

Being quiet as you can be with unlocking the door, Taehyung makes it no issues to pull a dramatic scene. Already seconds in through the door staring you down, like any other would be scared of the predatory stare.

But this is Taehyung, he would never hurt you.

All you can do, Slowly watching him advance at you skittering back until you’re pressed to the wall. He doesn’t touch you, leaned against the victorian wall with each hand on either side trapping you between him.

He won’t stop there yet, drawling your name out in a drunken purr “Aw-huh. Angel, you got yourself stuck..what are we going to do now?" like no moral was ever created — toes curled into wooden floors from the deep baritone voice awakening all of your weaken senses.

You try, trying so damn hard and ignore it.

Staring hard into empty eyes, his bags are awfully visible and you wonder if he’s even slept lately.

You’re so tiny and frazzled by his abrupt actions, feeling him slide a warm hand up to your stomach to trail barely under your tits. The same said empty eyes sharpen at your slip of a pathetic whine, closing you into the wall a tad too close for comfort to make you both bump into each other’s chest.

“Wanna fuck this pretty cunt again.”

His words boom into you everywhere, from head to toe and places you wouldn’t like to acknowledge that throbbed with need. Doomed, definitely, that’s what you are.

You can only exhale feeling a warm shiver travel down your spine from the daring slip of drunken tongue. Able to pull enough strength to squeak a soft response “L-let’s lay down.”

It was your best bet to avoid from ruining your impending future, you won’t allow no more mishaps to happen. It’s all for your father.

He settled off with a hum, you were surprised he’d backed off. Maybe the man recognizing the nervousness in your tone, “Lead the way.”

It’s quiet now, too tense for your liking but you can’t do anything you think to help the off situation. Laid in your bed next to each other with a foot of space between your bodies.

It’s uncanny how alike this situation reminds you of some movie you watched with the man.

You feel like you’re steps away from saying the infamous line of “Lying Is the Most Fun a Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off.”

You won’t have a second to think longer when the big bear decides to speak up into the unknown of silence that had lasted for a long hour, “I get it.. yeah, you don't love me, big fucking deal.”

Silence, absolutely nothing back.

“I’ll never tell you how I really feel, angel.”

Your breath was being held for seconds until he decides to follow with cockiness, there it is.

Always showing a slip of vulnerability followed with the man being plain rude. It’s the way your eyes roll that cause a gasp to stutter from him, almost like he didn’t expect your attitude nor harsh yet honest reaction.

He won’t comment on it properly, never does.

“Hold me.” he mumbles while simultaneously grumbling, trying his definition in hard to get you closer than whatever.. this is. Your brow ticks at him head shifting to properly face his pouted features from his side profile, feeling up for the need to deny him only a bit.

“What? Stop mumbling.”

He won’t take a pause this time, thankfully.

“Hold me goddammit.” he huffs and puffs out even louder — yet incoherently all in the same breath. Taehyung coughs, trying to clear his throat and mocks you with a roll in his own eyes of annoyance, like you did something.

That time you did “hear” him and you did what was asked by the big grizzly bear, only you turned to him closer now — seeing that wry smile on his cruel but godforsaken pretty face.

The spiral begins, you and him are going to give into this hell of fire.. only letting it grow uncontrollable by the end of night.

Are you going to do well without me?

Are we ever going to be okay?

Will we ever be fine?

You were too good to be forgotten in his heart.

It was too quiet in this room, silent and tense.

Taehyung felt nothing but regret, fucking stupid as he closed his eyes and mumbled these pitiful words.

Stupid, as he continued to speak gibberish into the room. I feel stupid. I am stupid.

You finally give up on the swallowing of the never ending silence and endless mumbling under his breath, tongue dry trying to clear your throat so to maybe finally speak — maybe even summon him back, and he does. It works because he lets his eyes finally open back.

You tug him into your chest wasting no more time when there’s not much, arms wrapped tight around his stiff figure that takes only just a minute to loosen once he realized you weren’t going to push him back anymore.

It’s not much different though, his nails still pierced into his forearm with thin lips folded into teeth to feel anything but what this is right now. You were staring at him, Taehyung, your father’s lawyer, your first crush and realization that you really only like and desire older men.

Now wishing you’d rather have gone to therapy instead of pursue that day in the bathroom.

You don’t mean that actually, you just hate yourself at this very moment and so does he.

But this wasn't the Taehyung you knew, wasn't the same man with styled hair and sultry eyes.. looking now as real life death in your arms.

You weren’t trying to be harsh nor hateful, you were worrying your heart out and confirming all the racing thoughts you have figured to be maybe going on. Only for them to come to life. He looks unreal tonight, almost unnatural from his usual sun kissed skin. No more sharpness to his look, the man looks fucking sick.

You want to coddle him to death, your own heart feels like it’s going to lurch right out from it’s chest by any second now if he keeps looking at you with those sad puppy dog eyes. This was not the look you yearned to see, you hated it all so much.

“Well.” clearing his throat, trying to prove something into air. Maybe it’s a lawyer instinct.

You repeat back to him without a beat to really think, “Well..” you use the same tone of voice but maybe yours wavered more in raw pain. The man wordlessly continued to stare like always, holding your hand tight in his grip in bringing it up to his lips. You should reject his warm touch, leave even, run far.

But why are you still laying here.. melting away.

He was being this gentle and just careful, you would giggle if the situation weren’t tense now.

Long fingers playing with lips, digits ghosting over your cheek with a soft caress. You can’t help but shut your own tired eyes, melting more and more and it was just like that.

His control is gone, so fast and fluidly when your lashes fluttered to cold skin. Whispering his name too sweet and soft almost in prayer.

"We can’t.. it would be wrong.” it’s insane how you knew his intentions from the speed his hands traveled to the material of your night dress.

"So fucking wrong," he becomes almost too ready with heavy pants of hot breath kissing your jaw and neck.

Eager calloused thumbs rubbing circles into your hips that were on the brink of trembling.

You whine at the tone he uses, becoming easy to his invasion "Don't.. don't speak like that." Eyes heavy lidded, lips licking with each breath that exhaled from your stuttering chest.

He wants you dead it seems, feeling up your body more and more by every passing second before easy fingers would get to your chest.

"I'm wrong like that.. you like it," the man preaches with determined digits this time skimming back down onto your hips to hear his favorite strangled whines "you want it.”

"Ah.. T-tae” it’s pathetic.. sounding asthmatic in your own ears from mere fingers grazing you rough.

"Who's married? Certainly not you, yet."

You pause to mull it over, eyes falling into his.

He truly doesn’t care now, past gone. Nothing can stop this — you need him.. your sweet eyes tell almost all too fucking well for him to know.

He's moving on autopilot when he pulls you to him with no awareness of anything around him, the man frenzied with his only living goal to feel you wrapped around him. Whether it be with loose limbs or his all well endowed cock buried deep between warm tightness, he needed to feel you again.

Your gasps fall out too soft to be surprised at the sudden roughness, murmuring whining moans that fell into a mantra of "We can't..” tiny cries that quickly later start falling into hungry kisses while neither of you had an ounce of intention to stop, no matter the end of it.

Lips already collided against each other in a perfect mess of motion, tongues lolled out of your mouthes as the pleasure binds you both.

It’s disgusting now, strings of drool dribbling to your chest from every pause he took to pull and nip. The man grabs your scalp, yanking you head back against his shoulder. Jaw slack open to give him the prettiest mouth for him to gladly spit right down onto your tongue, so pathetic all for his demise.

Doing all the nothing but moaning and swallowing, open mouth with all your might.

Leaving a desperate plea in sparkly eyes while you wait impatient for his next move, you missed him. Eyes yearning and lips quivering, legs shaking so early on and yet.. your spine just might go limp quite soon.

You whine almost instantaneously and nothing less of desperate while the devious man began to nibble harshly down on your neck with small bites of love.

Moving on nothing but anger and bubbled feelings at surface, shoes being removed, with the stubborn zipper of your night dress slipping down from your shoulders as hungry lips explored every inch of skin that became exposed.

So quick, licking a wet stripe down your chest to stomach to feeling you shake with desire and need, tasting the want for you on his tongue.

“Hmm, your poor husband to be.”

He hated that, hated the fact that you were about to belong to someone. He knew he wanted and needed you to feel the burn that he had been feeling for months since then.

"I'm not t-telling," you can barely form a sentence let alone a proper sound that didn’t make you sound out to be like a deprived slut.

The man can’t do much other than scoff, you having the strength to use that reassuring tone— with such a soft tone and bat pretty doll eyes in lost of such easy pleasure given.

Looking this fucking gorgeous and it’s going to be all for someone else, not him ever “I know angel, not with the way i’m about to fuck you.”

Like clockwork you moan like a bitch at that, of course. Feeling him sink razor sharp canines down into the squishy flesh of your stomach.

Uncaring completely for the fresh marks, he would hope in your future meeting with that man.. you wouldn’t become so easy to show yourself off for him. Sliding his fingers from your stomach down over to your cunt, slipping long digits between sopping wetness — sticky as if you already had touched yourself earlier.

He’s growing impatient, on the aspect of stretching you out when he so gladly craves to stuff you four fingers full. But he’s a gentleman at his very best, always calling out for him in non-stop “T-tae..” or better yet “Touch me, I’m sorry, I’ll be good.” without any doubt he would answer “Anything for the angel.”

Your thighs already shake from the burn of /slowly/ fucking yourself on long fingers. Tears streaming, overwhelmed by the burning stretch that comes with each motion, soon quiet sniffles and soft gasps turn into sobbing when the man decides to snake his hand and start to tease and slowly circle your clit.

“So perfect, all for me, hm.”

You nod eager to please, blushing all the way down to your toes. Biting your lip, thoughts not holding very well against the feeling of the eager man’s middle finger now slipping out from you to part your cunt and stroke along the sore slit.

“Patient tonight? You must want it bad.” he sighs almost sounding bored, standing tall over you to undo the belt that once looped through his slacks. Long gone leather abandoned to the floor along with his slacks pooled at his ankles, ready, finally.

“You gotta be nice and quiet for me. Yeah? Can you do that for me?”

You’re way past desperate tonight, choking out a broken “Y-yes, fuck! Please.” wild hips winding up for more of the now lost touch.

The older plays coy, smirking lopsided and lazy, kneeling on the bed to line himself up to the pretty plump cunt. Long digits wrapped around his cock, "Open up for me baby."

She obeys immediately, legs opening wider to shakily wrap themselves around Taehyung’s waist. His hips up to slip his cock into the crease of your folds. Grinding there half tipsy now, leaky tip nudging at your clit.

Not wasting another second, the first push of stretch has you whining his name. Long nails piercing into taut honey skin, cock fucking in ruthless at the long thrusts that heat your core up, forming sweat down his neck and shoulders.

“Goood fucking girl.” He drawls with a husky moan, you want to die at how fucking hot he sounds.

He doesn’t care, going faster to no point of being coherent in your mind. Punishing strokes fucking the life out of you, snapping his cock right into your tight cunt. One hand bruised into your hip while the other slipped easily around your neck just enough to have you alert “Look me in the eyes when I’m fucking you.”

Lashes fluttering half open, looking with a fuzzy minded daze. Knowing you look like a slut, feeling drool drip everywhere along with the slickness between your legs. Coming to the reality you would let him do anything and you’d welcome it.

"Just like that baby, shit, taking my cock so fucking good," he grunts almost feral with every punishing stroke "Y-yes, " tiny voice choking out, slamming into you with hips winding harder if that was even humanely possible "Love it so much, I-love your cock.”

“Who’s a whore, uh? Who’s desperate for cock.”

“Tell me.” he growls slowing the roll of his hips into you to pull a desperate cockslut spill a mess of “Me, me, me.” you’re hyperventilating almost with how good he feels “M-me, I’m sorry!” god, the situation is a mess but he wouldn’t be lying if he wasn’t thinking about filling his load in you and pray to the man above that your birth control didn’t work.

feeling walls grow tighter and tighter, knowing the telltale signs you were about to cum.

“Perfect fucking girl, sucking me so tight.”

“S-stop..” you whine in embarrassment with a broken sob when you feel the devil himself sink deeper, balls deep inside you now.

Back and forth, back and forth.

An addictive dance, once friendly boundaries expanding to something that was speaking what will stay unspoken. Taehyung’s cock sliding so good inside your cunt you were dying with bliss for the night.

He can see you struggle to try and put a hand over your mouth, but the man won’t allow that. Snatching your hand in his grasp “Let her hear," he growls, referring to the maids and starts to fuck the life out of your cunt with no care for how loud you moan or scream.

"Y-your slut," you stutter, feeling him start to raise his hips to meet your weak attempt of grinding back, thrusting upward and matching your sloppy speed. "wanna b-be your slut."

His ego growing higher than before and dick hard as ever, Taehyung taunts, already knowing the answer by your dazed features.

“Oh yeah?” he pants grunting with every roll of his hips, and you can do nothing but give him what he wants. On the brink of tears you whine out broken moans, “So fucking bad, please Tae.”

“Come on." the taller’s strokes turning slow and hard, each one pulling a moan from sweet agape lips. "Cum on my cock.” you’re past coherent, cock drunk with drool slipping down your chin.

The ecstasy bursting through your body at an unimaginable rate,legs feel almost numb, smaller fingers gripping your sheets so hard. Taehyung already knew you would rip them off the corners of your bed, seeing how your own skin burned. Orgasm still sending ripples throughout your tiny body. Shaking as you came down from the high, cock buried deep, cum spilling inside as he keeps your body pressed together, skin to skin. His nose buried in the crook of longer sweaty strands of hair.

You begin to feel the feather kisses he mouthed over the expanse of your neck, his body quivering with the last of his cum filling you up.

“Fuck, yeah, ok.” is all he can do to respond, you can only hum in response as you’re being fucked so mind-numbingly good. Body moving along the bed as you’re fucked open for the year.

Your blissed-out state has the man feeling on top of the world, no case he’s won ever given him this much ecstasy for this feeling of high.

Knowing that the same woman he's been getting off to for months, that was only planned to be handed over to someone else is finally getting fucked. His pretty not so sweet angel drooling all for him, ruined for good by just his cock.

The floaty feeling back to how it was, only stronger than ever, the way Taehyung feels so right up against you.

He comes from his feverish moment of just drilling into you, no awareness for how overwhelming it may be. A smaller hand trying to grab his hand to make him stop, he sees nothing less of rage.

"Move your fucking hand.” he snaps with a hiss, snatching your hand in an iron like grasp.

“only I can touch you like this.” he states, hard and stern as if it’s a plead mixed into question. “Yeah?” of course he has to slap you for you to answer, braindead and cock hungry.

“Yes, all for you!” you squeal, body curling into yourself — he begins to dwell how there is not a real thought behind your eyes but his fingers and cock bearing your only passable thoughts.

He wants to laugh, your poor husband is about to be inadvertently about to be cucked.

You moan at how rough he’s being, every yank, spanking and slap getting you more than riled up. Rambling the typical ‘I love you, I love your cock.’

He’s aggravated, not sure why, deep down knowing. "Look at me and tell me what you want.” no way to receive an answer unless he squeezed a generous hand around your throat.

“Y-you, you, fuck!”

It’s not enough, he wants to laugh at his greediness that will not sate him ever.

Again and again, back and forth. Another slap landed across each apple red cheek, going harder each lashing.

“Again.”

You repeat yourself again, hm, still not enough.

He’s done with himself, frustrated and choosing to vomit his words.

“You’re mine, get that through your fucking head.” his thrusts were past hard and fast, bruising now. He grunted and groaned while you continued to moan and whimper beneath him, going so rough he decided to push your skull deep into the bed. Warm palm covering your face whole, feeling you squeeze involuntarily at being used like an object.

“Atta girl.” He didn't stop, not once. You weren’t asking to anyways just screaming his name for more — no mind here with nodding away into a mess full of bedsheets, trying to wind wobbly hips back on his cock to bounce lewdly.

Taehyung does nothing less but snap sharply against your ass, “So fucking tight, mine."

"C-cum in me tae," you moan, seeing white, reaching down blindly to rub your clit in frantic circles, begging at the idea of the older filling you with his cum. "Fill me up, give-give me a baby."

"Fuuuck," Taehyung growls and groans almost feral "Don't fucking say that shit."

"W-why not?" bratty whines beg “F-fill me up? Don't say that?"

Taehyung grunts, pulling you on him, chest to chest, you clamor to wrap shaky arms around his neck. Fuck, he’s holding you upright, bouncing you straight onto his cock. Falling forward with a squeal, crying in pleasure as the tip of his cock hits your cervix with how deep he is inside.

"Want my cum so fucking bad?" he hums, trying his best to sound unbothered. "I'll fucking give it to you then."

Your legs clamp around his waist as he pounds into you, cock hitting every point inside your body and you’re so close you think you’ll die. You feel Taehyung tense, and then a sudden gush of warmth fill you.

"Fuck me, angel. You feel so good." he gasps through l shut teeth spanking you with every thrust he gave.

At the feeling of him actually listening to what you always wanted, your orgasm blinds you in intensity, the tight coil in your stomach finally snaps. Body seizing, moans loud against his lips, whining a final tired cry to slow down.

The baby clip once stuck to hair now hung loose, the feeling of warm hands kneading hips before he would give harsh slaps to your ass.

"What do you think he would say," he spits out the name with nothing but disgust. “if he saw you like this?" He shifts his hips, "You think he'd ruin your orgasm?" tone patronizingly sympathetic. “Or.. let you cum so prettily, like you always do.”

He tsks at watching how disoriented daze eyes go through the five stages of grief. Writhing in pleasure as eyes fall closed, breath hitched when he finally lays you back down on the bed. Thighs sticky and all, he sighs at the sight.

“Want to show this cunt off to the world."

“Y-you can’t..” you pout, his eyes watching you fall apart all over again at just words being spoken to you.

“Good thing for secrets.” he smirks his mouth almost falling into a snarl, it wasn’t even spoken this would continue. One last time you agreed.. but you want him more than ever even if your situation is doomed.

“Bath?” he mutters with a whisper of soft kisses to your temple, you nod.

He grabs for his cigarettes, you hand him his lighter and wait until the deed was done so you could put them back off to the side again.

It’s been long since you both have took a bath together. He stretches his arms after he successfully calmed his nerves, you light the stick for him, eyes on him as he throws his head back to inhale. Blowing smoke out, body lazing while it filled with nicotine.

You like calm men, men who dont shout or break things when they’re upset. Men who talked to you in a gentle, low voice telling you what made them mad or what you did wrong.

That’s what Taehyung is to you, that’s what made you fall.. hard. You think it over all again in your current predicament, comfortable as ever.

Veiny caramel hands pulling your hips up in the bath for you to be settled nicely. A warm hand fondles your ass lovingly with his other taking puffs of smoke to inhale and exhale lazily, “My pretty girl.” he smiles lopsided before tugging your wobbly hips back down in relief, enjoying the way you whimpered and whined in your own way of retaliation.

Taking mercy before planting a wet kiss on your shoulder to whisper “I love you, Angel.”

Both of you decide on staying silent. Your back rests against his chest, deciding mutually to speak once the cigarette burnt into ashes.

“Does he make you feel safe, like I do?”

You don’t answer.

“I want you, you’re mine no matter what.”

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

You are married now.. being due with a fast wedding to no love involved, business as the main goal.

The meets with Taehyung continue and you two make time to fuck when you can — poor Namjoon.

It hurts he thinks.. hurts so bad. Because he’ll have to look at you every month when you come over to be fucked into whatever.

While he is out handling business, leaving him in the spot to fuck you hard and good like he can’t, at least he tried to convince himself of that for his own comfort.

You keep up with the old routine of pillow talk, just to feel the same mundanity this once all was. You think, he doesn’t care what you speak of after he only just poured his dull sad soul into fucking you.

Not caring at how you talk so highly of your new husband and how well you both are adapting with each other. Rambling all on about your blossoming relationship with him, hearing you nervously speak of the plans on having kids together.

Of course not nervous on his behalf, no, no.

Because you are deathly nervous about if you will be a good mother or not, he knows you will, even if things are like this. You think it doesn’t hurt him, when you say genuinely on how he’ll be the “Cool friend of Mommy’s” to your children.

It drives a knife deep into my heart on how you speak so highly of this new life, how well you are adapting. When.. we could have had this.

“Tae..? You there?”

He’s not caring to respond to your rhetoric question that was all well laced of genuine care and worry, Taehyung can be an asshole just this once.

“Do you know what you are?”

You think this is a game of teasing now, he can tell with that pretty smirk plastered on your gorgeous face “What am I, sir?”

It’s too bad that he’s being genuinely serious.

“You’re my girl.”

You don’t take a second to pause, you play into the narrative with a grin that quickly warped into an innocent and sweet smile.

“I’m your girl, Taehyung.”

He only knew that you meant the world to him.. and he, adored you in his mind until it hurt.

#bts fan fiction #bts ff #bts smut #kim taehyung smut #kim taehyung fic #taehyung smut #taehyung x yn #taehyung x oc #taehyung x reader #taehyung ff #taehyung fanfic #taehyung fic #taehyung pwp #bts angst #kim taehyung angst #bts au #bts aus

3K notes · View notes

ldysmfrst · 7 months ago

Text

American Mate - (4)

First Case of Alpha Space

Paring: Hybrid!BTS Ot7 x Plus-sized Human FemReader

Status: Ongoing series

Chapter number: 4 of unknown

Word count for Chapter: 4132

Work count for Story: 16,244

Genre: Hybrid Playmate Au inspired by works created by @yoongiofmine

A little about the author: I am a mother of two beautiful children. One of which is special needs, and on 3/28, they lost 75% of their vision. I have had to take time off work to accommodate many MANY doctor appointments. I started a Ko-fi if you feel the heart to donate towards helping with the medical costs of appointments, medication, and modifications to the house, which insurance doesn't cover.

Warnings: (I am not good at this, but I will try. Let me know if I missed anything!!) NOT BETA READ!! This story will have a bit of angst, fluff, smut, f/m, m/m, and m/f/m. This chapter does have Injury, Anxiety, Panic attacks, comfort, Alpha Space, and Cultural differences.

BTS HYBRID ANIMAL TYPES: Seokjin - Roan Ferret, Yoongi - Black Jaguar, Hoseok - Marten, Namjoon - Alaskan Timber Wolf, Jimin - Red Panda, Taehyung - White Southwest African Tiger, Jungkook - Flemish Giant Rabbit

AMERICAN MATE MASTER LIST / LDYSMFRST MASTER LIST

Is it really that big of a deal that you got hurt? My god, you were 35 already. You have never lived a sheltered life. You have had your fair share of broken bones, twisted ankles, scrapes, and bruises.

You are always going on adventures, riding horses, and climbing things you probably should not be climbing. The external scars you bear are associated with stories that are good conversation starters when you feel like showing them.

Things would be difficult for a while because you are right-handed. You have a few days of sick time saved up that you can use to start with. Hopefully, this will help you gain some kind of compliance from your award left hand.

Work, however, is going to be the hard part. Luckily, your work is typically done on electronics, meaning nothing has to be handwritten. Even if you tried to write left-handed, no one could read it. You would bet money doctors had better writing than you did. Dictation software to save the day!

Hearing Derek’s voice broke you out of your thoughts regarding your near future. Watching him act cautiously while interacting with the other hybrid was interesting. There is clearly a difference in how he acts with Yoongi than Evie. Giggling to yourself at the mention of being a mate with Derek gains the attention of both.

“Oh, sorry. The thought of being a mate, much less to Derek, was amusing, I guess.”

You missed the slight frown that briefly graced both men’s faces. Derek thought you were implying he wasn’t mate material, and Yoongi thought you believed you were not worthy of being a mate.

“Thanks Y/n. I let you know that I am a catch despite being a Beta. Besides, this isn’t about me right now. We need to get the leadership involved with what to do moving forward. Are you okay if we bring in the others?”

“Yes, please. I need to speak with Director Johnson, fill out an incident report… um or dictate an incident report, and then get to a doctor.” Attempting to stand up, you are blocked by the golden-yellow eyes that have not stopped watching your every move.

”Mr. Min, I need to get some things done and take care of my wrist.”

Yoongi’s eyes narrow, and a soft growl pours through the room, causing your eyes to widen. You look over your shoulder at Derek with a ‘what-the-F-did-I-do’ expression, only to be met with a smirk.

“Y/n, I don’t think you understand what is going on. You haven’t dealt with a situation like this before. You may love hybrids but you still have limited interactions with our culture and this dynamic.”

Walking backward toward the door, Derek continues, “With the state of mind that Mr. Min is in, it might be best if a packmate explains.”

Derek opens the break room door to face Hoseok, Teahyung, Namjoon, and Jungkook, who are all staring. “Oh, Hi there.”

Then, as if someone had turned the mute off, they all started talking simultaneously.

“Is Yoongi-hyung dropped yet?”

“그 사람 괜찮아요?”

“Why does she still smell hurt?”

“Wait, wait, wait, please,” Derek puts his hands up, motioning to stop.

“I do not know Korean for one and for two Mr. Min has gone into full non-verbal Alpha Space and I am not sure he will be coming out of it anytime soon. However, one of you should go in to handle the situation and she needs to talk with Director Johnson.”

At the mention of the director, a low growl came from Taehyung, causing Derek to take a step back and lower his eyes in an automatic response to a displeased Alpha.

The scent of calming leather gently flows over the group at the door as Namjoon steps forward. His mind is still reeling a million miles a second with you being their mate and you being injured. To top it off, Yoongi is on a deep level of Alpha Space.

“Sorry about that. I can come in, but the director is busy at the moment dealing with the playmates, corporate office, and Manager Sejin,” Namjoon apologizes as he enters the room.

He follows Derek to where his packmate and Y/n are situated at a table. Taehyung and Jungkook follow quickly.

They both kneel respectfully behind Yoongi. Their Alphas recognize that Yoongi is currently in charge of you, and it would be unwise to display anything that could be considered a threat by approaching you too quickly.

They both need to be close to you, and their instincts to be with their injured mate drive their actions. Looking you over for injuries, their eyes resting on your wrist with furrowed brows and set jaws.

Taehyung’s eyes change to crystal blue as his tail flickers almost in time with Yoongi’s as he slips into Alpha Space.

“Namjoon-hyung, Y/n is hurt. She needs a hospital, I think,” Jungkook says, his ears standing straight up on his head, one-pointedly focused on you and the other twitching between his Prime Alpha and the door.

“It is not that big of an issue, Mr. Jeon, Mr. Min, and Mr. Kim.” Looking up from the trio in front of you and addressing the Prime Alpha, “Sir, I have specific protocols to follow due to company procedure. I have to talk with the Director.”

A growl from one of the men in front of you freezes your words, unsure of what you did to cause their reactions. Internally, you groan because it seems all you get from them are growls, as if you vex them more than you humanly possible.

“Miss Y/n, we have already talked to Director Johnson,” Namjoon says with a look of distaste.

“He has been informed that you are now under the care of Bangtan Pack following hybrid customs. It would be wise to refrain from talking about him at the moment, he did not leave a good impression with the pack.”

Your brows scrunch in confusion, making the hybrids want to coo at your cute face. Clearing his throat (aka his mind), Namjoon continues, “We have more pressing matters to attend to besides paperwork.”

“You are injured, and we have to get you to a doctor. Manager Sejin is currently contacting one of our personal physicians that we normally use while on tour to have you treated.”

“What? Why would I use your doctor? I can just go to the local clinic.” Your scent spikes almost like a heavy perfume with anxiety with the flashbacks of your nightmare.

“Please, I have taken up much of your time, and caused enough problems as it is. I can take care of myself. I don’t want to be a bother.”

At your words, you are surrounded by multiple growls and watched by now golden-yellow, crystal blue, and smokey gray eyes. Scooting back in the chair, you nervously ask, “Derek, what did I do?”

“Y/n, you really don’t get it do you? For as smart as you are, sometimes you can be oblivious.” He smiles and shakes his head, stepping back from the group and heading towards the door.

“Mr. Kim, as Prime Alpha, you might want to explain what is happening and what she should be expecting. Mind you, she has been fiercely independent for the last 15 years of her life.”

“I wish you the best with her. It won’t be easy, trust me, I know. Good Luck.” Derek bows slightly to Namjoon once he reaches the break room door.

Looking at you again, this time with a smile filled with adoration for his best friend and what he thinks your future may hold, Derek says, “Relax and have fun.” Then he turns and leaves the room.

As Derek leaves the room, he smiles at the remaining pack guarding the door. “Mr. Kim, Mr. Jung, and Mr.Park, I think your human does not understand what is happening.”

“Our human? So you know?” Seokjin questions with wide, cautious eyes.

Derek looks over his shoulder at the closed break room door. “At first, I thought it was just a typical Alpha reaction with him being the cause of Y/n getting injured, but his care and gentleness seemed to come from somewhere deeper. Add on the fact that your other two are fighting Alpha space. It would be hard to miss.”

“The other two?” someone asks.

Shaking his head, Derek looks back at the remaining three. “Yes, the younger Mr. Kim and Mr. Jeon’s Alphas surfaced just before I left. Your Prime Alpha is going to try to sort things out, but he may need some back up.”

“Meanwhile I am going to find our boss and see what needs to be done before you all run away with her.” Derek leaves the pack to mull over the new information.

“Tae has never been one to control his Alpha well when one of us is hurt. I am not surprised if he slipped once near her. Kook always runs on instinct too, so it makes sense he slipped as well,” Seokjin contemplates.

“Should we stay out here? Miss y/n’s pack member said it would be better to go in and help Namjoon? Three of us in Alpha space with an injured mate is not going to be easy,” Hoseok adds.

Nibbling on his lower lip, Jimin thinks of ways to handle the situation. Even though he is one of the younger packmates, keeping the pack calm is his gift.

He just doesn’t know how to handle you yet, especially since you don’t know what you mean to the pack.

“Good, at least three of you are here, and I assume the rest have made their way into the room with Miss Y/n,” Manager Sejin says while walking up to the group.

“I have spoken with Big Hit, the Director at Playmate Service Incorporated, and Dr. Blackwell. Everyone is onboard and the doctor is ready to go.”

“Thank you,” Seokjin says, feeling relief that no one seems to be fighting this. “Namjoon is in with the rest of the pack and Miss Y/n, we should go in. From what Mr. Gulley says, Miss y/n does not seem to understand the situation to the fullest. I just hope that Namjoon can clear some things up.”

“Relax and have fun? What does he mean by that?” You mumble as you glare at the now-closed door that one of your best friends just shut.

He willingly left you with four Alpha male idols.

Three of them are kneeling on the floor with non-human eyes, and the Prime Alpha, looking around the room like the way to explain what's happening is painted on the walls.

Taking a breath, you say, “Mr. Kim, Prime Alpha… Sir. Derek is right. I have no actual experience with Alphas. I can tell that there must be some kind of instinctual drive going on, and there are trigger words or actions.”

“I don’t want to cause any more trouble than I already have. What do I do to make it easier for your pack?”

At your words, the kneeling Alphas gave a multitude of pleasant chirps. You looked at the three of them, a little confused. They seemingly smiled and made almost the same sound at what you said.

Okay, so they can growl and chirp. Your curiosity spikes when you think of what other animal-like sounds they can make as hybrids.

Drawing your attention back to him, Namjoon finds the words to explain what is happening, “Miss Y/n, you have done so much to help the Bangtan Pack feel welcome today.”

With a gentle smile, he continues, “So please relax, you have not caused any trouble, and we highly doubt that you will.”

Thinking to himself, ‘At least, not in the way you seem to be thinking.��

“Alpha’s run with a higher level of instinct than your Beta packmember. As an Alpha, Yoongi instinctually feels responsible for your injury. In order to calm that instinct, a few things will most likely need to happen.”

Watching as you seem to sit up with interest, he continues, “First things first, he and his Alpha need to get at least your injury treated.”

“He has to be the one to take me to get it treated? I can’t have him go with me to the clinic! There are fans and sasaengs and the media! What about your schedule? You always hear about the tight schedules Idols have and you have already spent all afternoon here over this.”

You start panicking about the hordes of people you hear about following the band around. God, the amount of bad publicity that would come from catching you and THE Suga of BTS at a clinic. You can’t imagine what nonsense they would come up with?

Your scent goes into an even heavier version; it takes on an almost alcoholic aspect. The kneeling Alphas instinctually send out calming pheromones while moving closer.

Yoongi’s tail, still wrapped around your ankle, tightens while he gently rubs the back of your injured hand, which he is cradling protectively.

Taehyung starts to purr softly, hoping that the sound will comfort you.

Jungkook, on instinct alone, scoots up to your left side, nudges his head under your left hand, and rests on your leg.

The feeling of Jungkook’s head on your leg snaps you out of your thoughts and brings you back into the room. You hold still as you start to recognize similar comforting behaviors the Alphas are doing with those that Evie always does, allowing you to take a deep breath.

“Sorry. I was raised to take care of myself and not impose on others.”

“Miss Y/n, you are not imposing. Again, Yoogni ran into you while rushing out of the room, and it's his responsibility to make amends. Actually, as a bonded pack, it is our responsibility, too.”

“The pack? Like all of you? Is this why they are all like this, with their eyes and stuff?”

Absent-mindedly, you run your fingers through Jungkook’s hair, softly scratching his scalp, soothing not only yourself but also the youngest Alpha.

A soft chuckle escapes Namjoons as he watches your instinctual interactions with the youngest mate. “Yes, that is the best way to explain the eyes and stuff, as you put it.”

“Jungkook and Taehyung will find it easier to leave their Alpha Space since they are not the ones responsible for the injury but trying to be supportive to both of you.”

Hearing a knock on the door, he calls, “Who is it?”

“Namjoon-ssi, it's Manager Sejin. I have some updates and a few questions. Can I enter?” The door opens slightly to reveal it’s him.

At Namjoon's nod, he enters. The door remains open as the scents in the room are constricting in their density. He is followed by the rest of the pack, who take up guarding now from inside.

“Did you contact everyone?”

“Big Hit and the Corporate Director are on the same page and will follow the hybrid protocol, but details must be discussed once Miss Y/n has met with the doctor,” Manager Sejin reports to the Prime Alpha.

Moving to look at you, he continues, “I contacted Dr. Blackwell, thinking you may be more comfortable with a female doctor.”

Glancing at the boys surrounding you closely, his scent changes with curiosity. He raises an eyebrow, looking at Namjoon. With a subtle nod, he confirms that something more is happening but does not move to explain.

Looking back at you, he gently smiles, “With the situation at hand, it may be best to limit other males around you until everyone is out of Alpha space. They tend to get territorial. Dr. Blackwell is on standby, ready to assess and treat you once we know where you will be.”

“Why wouldn’t she just come here, or I go to her?”

“Miss Y/n, Dr. Blackwell is a traveling physician. She doesn’t have a permanent office to use but she is well respected in both the human and hybrid communities.”

“Oh, I see. Well, umm…” you look at Namjoon and ask, “What option would be best for your pack?”

Namjoon’s chest puffs slightly at your show of respect to him as the Pack Prime Alpha despite the situation and your pain level. “Not to make you uncomfortable, Miss Y/n, but I think meeting Dr. Blackwell at our AirBnB would be best.”

You take a moment to think, your hand pulsing with pain. They cannot all fit in your flat; it's a mess after you tore through your closet to find the right clothes for today.

They don’t seem to like being here. Instinctually, even Derek and Evie prefer being in their dens when one of the three of you is hurt or sick.

“Okay. If it is best for the pack, then I will go with you to the AirBnB and see Dr. Blackwell.”

It’s almost as if a weight is lifted out of the room, allowing the pack to take a breath.

“Yoon, Kook, and Tae. Can you give Miss Y/n some room? We have to take her to the pack house to see a doctor,” Namjoon says with a firm voice, gaining smiles from the men kneeling on the floor.

Jungkook stands and curls into the Prime Alpha, his eyes returning to their natural color.

Taehyung rocks back on his heels but remains near. His body is more relaxed and his eyes are still crystal blue, shifting between Yoongi and you in wait.

After watching the two younger Alphas move around, your attention turns to the Jaguar kneeling with expectant but questioning eyes.

“Mr. Min, if I promise that you can stay with me, will you let me go get my things and then you can take me to the pack house?”

Yoongi’s face lights up with a gummy smile as he nods. Your breath hitches at the sight. How can the devastatingly handsome rapper look so adorable?

He stands up, his tail unwrapping from your leg. He softly takes both of your hands while he assists you in standing. You smile and mumble a small thanks as you step forward to leave.

“Prime Alpha, do you think I can talk with Derek briefly to let him know what is happening? This way he can talk to the direc… Boss. Talk to the boss and let him know that I am leaving for the day?”

“Yes, talking to him will be fine. He has been established as part of your familial pack and won’t be considered a threat to the pack if he comes around you now,” Namjoon answers, moving out of your way and motioning for the rest to let you pass.

Bowing slightly, “Thank you, Prime Alpha.”

Making it to your desk is more complicated than one would think.

Yoongi won’t leave your right side, while Taehyung won’t leave your left. Both act like it's code red and someone is trying to assassinate you. Then you have the rest of BTS trailing behind like some kind of posse.

You keep your head down to avoid any strange looks or glares from whomever you pass. To your relief, you find Derek waiting at your desk with his head resting on his palms and a mischievous smile.

“I see you are taking things in stride,” glancing at your plethora of bodyguards. “Did the Prime Alpha explain everything to you?”

Speaking up from the back of the group, Namjoon answers for you, “She is aware that we are responsible for her at this time and she will be treated at our temporary pack house by our doctor.”

You don’t miss Derek's look of concern as he tilts his head with curiosity at Namjoon. “I see, of course. You are just responsible for getting her treated.”

“Derek, can you please let the big boss know that I will be leaving with Bangtan Pack to seek medical care and once I have more updates I will let you both know?”

Glancing at Yoongi and still seeing his lovely golden-yellow eyes, you try to ignore the slight flutter in your stomach, “I don’t think it would be good for me to talk with him myself still.”

Derek nods in response, “Manager Sejin has already given the boss a rough time frame for the near future. I suppose his managing skills came in handy. Don’t worry about us here. We can handle it while you heal.”

Standing up, Derek passes you your purse, which Taehyung takes. You try to grab it again, but only to have a black and white tail wrap around your arm and bring it back down to your side.

“No carry. Keep safe.” Taehyung almost grunts out in a deeper-than-deep voice, which short-circuits your brain.

Glancing at Derek out of the side of your eye, you see him briefly nod and smile encouragingly while he whispers, “It’s an Alpha Space thing. Best acknowledge his help.”

“Umm… Th-tha-hank you, Alpha,” you stammer out, willing the heat creeping up your neck to stop as your words pull a boxy grin from the Tiger.

“I think that is it,” you announce to nobody in particular. You smile awkwardly at Derek as he slowly approaches you.

“Y/n, you have been through so much. Not just today but in your life. You have always been the one to take the blame for others, working harder or longer than anyone else and caring for those who never return the favor.”

His eyes glance at the men surrounding you as he sees nods of understanding and looks of concern from them.

As a soft smile blooms on his face, he holds onto your good hand, “Take time for yourself and let this pack of Alphas take care of you. You deserve it more than anyone else I know.”

He pulls you into a hug. You briefly stiffen, waiting for the growling and pulling to start, but to your surprise, it doesn't. Relaxing into his hug, you take his words to heart.

A soft whisper in your ear, “You know you will always have Evie and me as your family pack, but right now, be open to the pack around you,” with one last squeeze, Derek steps back and returns to your desk.

“Now, shoo! Off you go. The boss said I’ll get to man the front desk for now.”

With a nod, you wave goodbye and face the hybrids behind you. After not finding Manager Sejin and a few others missing, your eyes settle automatically on Namjoon, waiting for a clue as to what to do next.

“Manager Sejin went down to get the cars. Seokjin-hyung, Hoseok-hyung, and Jimin also went down because we won’t all fit in the elevator.”

“Oh,” you feel a slight tightening in your chest after realizing you didn’t even notice they had gone.

“Miss Y/n, let's take you to get looked at,” Junkook says while inching towards the office doors.

“Yeah, sure. Sorry, I have everything. Lead the way.”

You follow the bunny and wolf hybrid while still sandwiched between the tiger and jaguar. Walking through the halls, you gain some attention from the people you pass.

You’re a mere human surrounded by some of the hottest Idols in the world right now. So why wouldn’t they?

Not willing to look up, you keep your eyes cast down to the feet in front of you as you try to avoid what you are a gazillion percent sure are looks of disgust and hate towards you.

Once the elevator doors open, the tiger lets out a low growl. Glancing up, you see two fellow PMS employees quickly scamper out of the elevator and down the hall.

That added to the embarrassment for now and when you return to work.

Namjoon and Jungkook take the back corners. Looking at the men by your sides, they motion for you into the elevator next.

However, when you go to stand in another corner, you are quickly ushered back into the middle with Yoongi and Taehyung in front of you.

The energy calms down as the doors close. The four Alphas relax now that they surround you and will start taking care of you.

Even if your trust in them starts with an injury, they know this is their chance to show you what it means to be taken care of, acknowledged as precious, and loved endlessly by the seven of them.

As the doors part, you're greeted by the remaining packmates waiting for you, smiles warm and welcoming. They're surrounded by more men in black, whom you assume are bodyguards.

Turning to look at you, Yoongi speaks for the first time since he entered Alpha Space, “Take home. Keep safe.”

Previous / Next

Taglist - CLOSED

@braveangel777 @bethanysnow @smileykiddie08 @kayways @danielle143 @nenefix-on @im-gemmy @fluffy-canada-pancakes @staytinyville @juju-227592 @levislifeline @carolinexkpop @m00njinnie @drenix004 @singukieee @avadakadabra93 @dazzlingjade @sehun096rainbow @sunshinecallie

547 notes · View notes

sopebubbles · 1 year ago

Text

Master List

Sixteen

Synopsis: in a world where alphas, betas, and omegas live along side modern humans as second class citizens, you've fallen through the cracks of a society that wants to take everything wonderful from you. Luckily a timely encounter with the boys just might save your life.

Chapter summary: getting closer with the pack means you'll have to learn to live with Kim Namjoon.

Warnings: drinking, breaking things, yknow namjoon stuff.

WC: 7.6K

After both your heats, you and Hoseok were nearly inseparable. When you were home, you followed him around like a little puppy, and he absolutely adored it. He appreciated how well you had taken care of his home and everyone in it while he was off his feet. When he told you as much, you assured him that it was your pleasure, and you would gladly do any chores he needed from you.

But your housework wasn't the only thing Hoseok had come to love.

You had become his new favorite cuddle buddy, much to your tiny pack's annoyance. Any time he could get his arms around you, he'd have you settled right against him with a proud smile on his face. And you certainly weren't complaining. You'd never known that omegas' cuddles were the best. Soft and warm and sweet smelling. Being held by Hobi was bliss. You wouldn't admit it to anyone, but you felt a bit of jealousy every time you scented Jin's sweet, nutty smell on Hoseok's skin, knowing that he had gotten to hold your omega all night long.

It wasn't until you came home from work one afternoon a few weeks after your heat and Hobi pulled you onto the couch, insisting you take a nap, that you realized something was different. You could still smell the light fragrance of Hoseok's body wash, so you knew he'd showered a few hours ago. But he smelled like praline pecans. Nutty like Seokjin, and different from Hoseok normal brown sugar. A new blend of the two.

"I'm going to stop working," you said suddenly.

He pulled back so he could look down at your face. "That would be great, but why so sudden?"

You shrugged and nestled back into his chest. "I just want to help you here more. It seems kind of silly to be cleaning for other people when I should be here cleaning with you."

He couldn't argue with that. Yoongi had told him about how you had called their house your home after your last heat, and it made his heart soar. He certainly wasn't going to deny you the domestic bliss he had always wanted to share.

"I like the sound of that," he murmured into your hair. "I would love to keep you here."

You were anxious to tell Yoongi about your decision, but when he got home he looked stressed and dejected. His shoulders hunched in a way you hadn't ever seen before. Seeing him look so weary made your heart ache. You approached him quietly as he took off his shoes in the entryway.

When you took his hand, one look into your sympathetic doe eyes was all it took to bring a genuine, lighthearted smile to his face. Somehow, one look from you and your tiny hands around his large one manifested energy from thin air. He pulled you closer and cradled you against his chest. Silent, except for a soft happy rumble in his chest, he held you like that for several minutes, but you wouldn't move for all the world, content to gently sway in his arms.

"Was it a bad day?" You asked softly. He hummed. "Come sit down, and I'll get you something to eat," you told him as you pulled away, ready to take his hand and guide him down the hall to the kitchen. But he pulled you back, unready to allow so much space between you. He picked you up by the backs of your thighs and hoisted you up, leaving you no choice but to wrap your arms and legs around him.

"In a minute," he mumbled into your neck, where he took deep breaths of your scent, allowing it to fill his lungs and soothe his nerves.

You complied and let him carry you to the couch as if you were no more than a child. Even if he was tired, holding you was nothing, not compared to the benefits.

"What happened?" you pressed gently after a moment.

"Nothing, really." He didn't need to burden you with the DOA he'd had today. Car crashes could cause such carnage, and he didn't need you to think of that. "I asked my supervisor if I could switch to a permanent day shift, but he denied me," he said after a moment of toying with your hair between his fingers.

"Oh. Why did you want to change?"

"I was hoping it would allow me to spend more time with you," he admitted. "I hate that I'm not able to see you. One of us is always working."

"Oh." A smile tugged at your lips and you cleared your throat. "Well, actually, I was thinking…" He lifted your chin gently with his fingers to see your eyes and waited for you to go on. "I want to quit my job. I-if that's okay."

"Really?" He asked excitedly as he pushed you away to look at your face better.

"Yeah, if it's not a problem," you answered quietly.

Yoongi pulled your hips tighter against him. "Of course it's not a problem! I was never going to tell you to quit, but I was always hoping you would. But why now? Did something happen at work?" His expression turned serious in an instant.

You shook your head. "No. Work is fine. I just feel like it's time to help Hobi out. And I can take care of you and Jimin. You're my pack after all."

"We don't expect you to cook and clean for us, princess," he said, tucking your hair behind your ear. Even though he meant it, he felt his heart flutter knowing you might want to.

"But it's my job."

"It isn't. That's not why we want you here. It's not why we're keeping you around. It never will be." His tone was serious. His eyes looked intently into yours. Heat flushed all over your body, and you tried to backtrack.

"I know that, Yoongi. I actually wasn't thinking that way, which is kind of funny because normally I would. This isn't a-take-care-of-alpha-before-he-throws-you-out thing. I just care about you and I think about taking care of you a lot. Want to know if you're eating well and sleeping well."

Yoongi's smile returned, and he pulled you closer, resting his forehead against your cheek. "Good. That makes me more happy than you'll ever know."

"Aish. I'm not really doing it for you," you teased. "I want to stay home and help Hobi."

"Ah, yes, you're new BFF," he teased back. "That's fine. I'm sure he'll be happy."

You nodded. "I'll put my two weeks notice in tomorrow."

"Why bother? Just quit. You're never gonna need another job again." He grasped the back of your head and pulled you into a passionate kiss, leaving you breathless.

"Aren't you gonna eat something?" You asked hazily, a long moment later.

"Yeah," he grinned. "I'll eat you,"

"No!" You screamed amid your giggles as he playfully tried to bite your neck, tickling your sides at the same time. When you were gasping for breath, he scooped you up in his arms again and carried you into the kitchen. He set you down to sit on top of the kitchen counter.

"I'll fix something for you," you told him as he walked toward the refrigerator.

"You stay," he ordered as he looked inside. "Did you cook this?" he asked, showing you a container of the leftovers from the evening's dinner. You nodded. "Then your work here is done," he said before placing the meal in the microwave.

"I heard the sound of a happy pup," Jimin said as he entered the kitchen. You blushed when he stood beside you. He had been sitting in the pack's nest with Namjoon and Jungkook when they heard your screams and laughter. He wasn't the only one curious, but he was the only one who ventured out to see what was going on.

Yoongi beamed. "Y/N has decided to quit her job and stay home."

"Oh, good thing you made that choice before Taehyung started courting you," Jimin responded slyly.

"What do you mean? Court me?" You stared at him in confusion.

Yoongi nodded. "It's true. He asked me for my blessing already. I told him I don't mind. He said he's going to take it slow, not jump into anything. But now you'll have plenty of time to get to know each other." Yoongi wriggled his eyebrows.

Your voice caught in the back of your throat. Too many feelings swirled deep in your stomach, and you couldn't parse them out. "You don't mind?" you finally asked.

Yoongi gave you a soft smile and lifted your face to meet his eyes. "As much as I love our little pack, I've always known it wouldn't always be the three of us. I mean, I hoped. There's no rush, but I think some day it will probably be all eight of us. And that will be great, too."

You tried not to think about that possibility too often. It made your head spin. Seven packmates. Four alphas. You weren't sure you could handle it. "But I only want you to be my alpha. If Jin–" you cut yourself off abruptly.

"If Jin what, princess?"

"If Jin wants to claim me, won't he be my pack alpha? But I only want you to be my pack alpha!"

Yoongi couldn't bear how childlike you sounded. It made his heart hurt to hear you so anxious and confused. He smoothed a hand over your hair and pulled your head to his shoulder.

"It's okay, baby. Jin will never be your pack alpha. I'll always be your number one. You really think I'd let anyone take my place in your heart?" he cooed.

"What are you so worried for?" Jimin chided. "Who's talking about Jin? It's just Taehyung right now. He's a great alpha. You'll see."

You sniffed and pulled away from Yoongi when the microwave beeped. "Why did you say it was good I'm quitting my job because of him?"

Jimin smirked. "Taehyung could never allow his omega to work outside the home."

"Why not?"

"One, it's too dangerous. It would drive his anxiety crazy. Best to keep omegas safe in the den. Two, it would hurt his pride. He makes more than enough money to support you and Hobi all on his own. And three, Taehyung may have the disposition of a golden retriever, but even the sweetest dogs don't like strange dogs looking at their bones." Jimin grinned deviously.

You pushed his shoulder. "I'm not a bone!"

"Oh, yeah? Just wait until he starts gnawing on you!" Jimin picked up your arm and pretended to bite it much like Yoongi had before, and again, you thrilled them both with your shrieks and giggles.

While the days got longer and hotter with more sunlight, it seemed that each workday dragged on slower than they ever had before. You were diligently waiting your two weeks, but by the time you were nearly there, you wished you'd taken Yoongi's advice to just quit. You were aching to be at home every minute you were gone, and that was a feeling you had never known before.

When Yoongi brought you home on your next to last day of work, you walked into something you'd never seen at the house before. It was something of a party atmosphere, and they were all celebrating the end of the school year alongside Namjoon. Jin and Jimin had yet to return home, but Jungkook and Namjoon had beers in hand, chatting cheerfully at the kitchen table while Taehyung put out snacks on the counter. You walked carefully past them to wash your hands before you sidled up beside Hoseok where he was forming beef patties between his delicate hands.

"Hamburgers for dinner?" You asked.

Hoseok smiled down at you and gestured to the side with his head. "You can slice those onions and tomatoes," he told you before you could ask to help.

When the rest of the pack came home, you all accompanied Hobi outside on the patio while he grilled the burgers. Yoongi anxiously held you back from getting too close to the flames, nervous you might hurt yourself. The afternoon was lovely, and you all decided on eating outside to enjoy the spring weather. You spent most of the time clinging to Yoongi, either in his lap or next to him, holding his hand. He didn't mind in the slightest, nor did he mind the jealous looks he received from Taehyung, who tried to make the both of you jealous by fawning over Jimin. All of them were oblivious to the true reason for your clinginess.

Namjoon tended to stand quietly on the fringes of Seokjin's pack. His status was never in question, and he didn't shy away from sharing his thoughts and feelings, but whenever you were all together, he simply allowed others to take center stage. But tonight was different. Tonight was his celebration for another completed school year, and he felt no need to stay to the side and listen to others. For once, he dominated the majority of the conversation, discussing funny memories from the school year and a few complaints he usually tried to swallow. As the night grew longer and he drank more, his voice boomed louder across the large backyard and you pressed yourself closer to Yoongi.

When it got dark and the air turned chilly, everyone moved back into the kitchen. You were exhausted, but decided to help clean up before you tried to excuse yourself to go to bed. Everyone was having a good time, all of them drinking a little even though you didn't, and you didn't want to bring the mood down, but you were growing tired. When you finished washing the dishes you went to stand by Yoongi, who was laughing heartily to the story that Namjoon was telling. You could wait a few more minutes, but you didn't really want to go to bed alone, and you didn't want to miss out, listening to all their laughter from your room while you sat alone. As Namjoon continued his story, he gestured wildly with his hands. The condensation on the beer bottle made it slick, and the brown glass suddenly flew out of his hand, whizzing past your head in a blur. You were hiding under the counter by the time the glass hit the wall, shattering to pieces and dumping its liquid all over the floor. Shards of class popped around the room as you buried your head in your knees and covered yourself with your arms. A scream built in your throat, but you knew better than to let it out.

Don't scream. Don't scream. It'll only be worse if you scream.

The whole room went silent and motionless for two seconds as they registered what happened. Then at once everything was in motion. Yoongi got out of his chair to check if you were alright, but Taehyung was quicker. He didn't take a moment to ask how you were or assess the damage. He simply gathered you into his arms and lifted you off the ground, careful not to bang your head on the granite countertop. He carried you directly up the stairs and to your room, with Yoongi behind him and Jimin bringing up the rear.

In the kitchen, the remaining two alphas stood, frozen in shock, but Hoseok didn't waste any time putting on shoes and grabbing the broom.

"Hobi, let me," Namjoon tried to say, reaching for the broom when he finally came out of his stupor.

The omega pulled away. "I got it. You stay over there until I get this all cleaned up. There's lots of glass."

The flat, subdued tone of his voice hurt Namjoon as much as the way Hobi wouldn't look at him. "It was an accident," he whispered.

"We know that, Joonie," Jungkook assured him with a light smile. "It's not like it's the first time you've broken something around here. It's just…" His eyes drifted toward the stairs.

"I would never throw something at her," Namjoon defended.

"I know, babe, I know. But she doesn't. It's natural for her to be scared. Don't take it too personally. She's just skittish," Jungkook tried to convince him.

Hoseok felt a tug of war within himself. He was usually always the first one to comfort Namjoon when he accidentally broke something or made a mess. But now he really wanted to check on you, to make sure you weren't hurt or scared. He wanted to hold you in his arms, but he knew if he ran off with the others it would hurt Namjoon, and he knew that it wasn't really his fault. Namjoon was just clumsy, some might say cursed. He never meant to cause chaos, but he did anyway. You would get used to it, eventually, but right now the omega could understand perfectly why you were afraid Namjoon might hurt you without even intending to. His head swirled with competing worries as he swept up the glass and dumped it into the trash can.

"Are you hurt?" Yoongi asked as Taehyung set you down at the edge of your nest. He shouldered the younger alpha out of the way to examine you. You were still too stunned to answer, but it didn't really matter; Yoongi was going to look over every available inch of you regardless. He gently tilted your face this way and that to make sure it was unscathed before he moved onto your arms, lifting and twisting each in turn to ensure your skin was unharmed. There was a small cut on your forearm and he frowned. It wasn't even from the incident that had unfolded moments before. It was from work earlier today, and the blood was already dry—you hadn't even felt it at the time.

"Jimin, go get the first aid kit from the bathroom," he instructed, holding your arms carefully.

Feeling Yoongi's steady hands on you helped to ground you and bring you back to your body, out of your shock and panic. You took in a deep breath and breathed out, "I'm okay."

Jimin shuffled back into the room carrying the first aid kit and handed it to Yoongi. The alpha plucked out an alcohol pad and ripped open the packet with his teeth, spitting out the torn piece.

"It's gonna sting," he whispered, but you didn't react as he swiped it over your skin. "It's dry." You looked down to the very minor wound he was tending to.

"That was from work. It's fine," you told him, but he didn't seem to hear you. He had already taken a bandage from the kit—neon pink—and gently but firmly pressed it over your cut. "Yoongi?" He looked up into your eyes and you could see his own were full of worry. He shrugged.

"It makes me feel better."

You cracked a genuine smile and it lifted some of the weight off his chest.

"Are you sure you're okay, sweet little?" Taehyung asked. His hands were still shaking from the course of adrenaline when he thought you were in danger.

You nodded. "I'm okay. I was just scared. I'm not hurt."

"You shouldn't be scared at home," he replied.

"Come sit with me," you said softly, patting the spot next to you. Your heart ached to see how distressed he was over you. Taehyung lowered his head and came to sit near you, not quite in your nest, but just outside of it. When he got close you realized something the rest of them hadn't. They'd been too worried about you to assess their own well-being.

"Tae, you're covered in beer."

He had been standing closest to where the bottle had hit the wall and, as a result, had gotten sprayed with the contents as well as some glass.

"You're bleeding," you added. "Yoongi, your patient is right here."

Your alpha smiled weakly at how brave you were trying to be. He could tell by the way you were still shaking that you weren't as calm as you pretended to be, but he would talk to you about it in a little while when things settled. For now he turned to Taehyung. Without a word, he began to clean the man's wound, and you held his hand while he winced through the burn on the alcohol. You pulled a neon pink bandage from the box beside you and handed it to Yoongi to apply.

"Now we match," you told him, and it brought a bright, boxy smile to Taehyung's face.

"Why are you the one comforting me?" He asked, bumping your shoulder.

"Why don't you go clean up and get changed? Then maybe you can come cuddle me in the nest?" You offered. "If you want to," you added quickly.

Taehyung nodded enthusiastically. "Be right back," he said before scurrying out of the room.

"Yoongi, you need to go downstairs and see if everyone is okay down there," you told him.

He growled softly, mumbling, "They can take care of themselves."

"Alpha," you cooed, reaching out to touch his cheek, "don't be like that." He pouted for a moment, but nodded and gathered the pieces of trash from his work before he took the first aid kit downstairs.

"What about me?" Jimin stood proudly in front of you, fists in his hips, waiting for his instructions.

"You come cuddle me until the others come back." He didn't waste a second, shucking off his pants and shirt. You'd gotten used to the fact that Jimin preferred to sleep only in boxers. Who were you to force clothes on him if he slept better without? After your heat, it had ceased to make you the slightest bit uncomfortable. He quickly climbed onto the bed, wrestling you into the nest and underneath his body, where he could get the upper hand on you and make the last of our distressed scent disappear as quickly as it had come.

When Yoongi reached the bottom of the steps, Namjoon turned anxiously to look at him. He was cleaning the last of the beer off the wall, looking rather like a pup with his tail between his legs. This was hardly a rare scenario for him, cleaning up his own mess no matter how Hobi tried to tell him to leave it. It wasn't the first glass he'd broken nor the first drink spilled. Namjoon was a walking disaster. He knew that. It couldn't be helped, and everyone knew that, too. But normally, everyone would stick around to help and cheer him up and comfort him when he made a silly mistake like this. This time, half his pack had disappeared up the stairs with you, and he couldn't help feeling a bit hurt about it. He regretted it. He always did, but he couldn't take it back, and he just couldn't change. He opened his mouth to explain to Yoongi, but nothing came out.

"Is she hurt?" Hoseok asked from the sink, after Yoongi and Namjoon had stared at each other for several tense seconds. Yoongi's face was a cold mask of stone, revealing nothing but disdain. Namjoon looked utterly crestfallen.

"She's not hurt. Just scared," Yoongi answered, shaking his head when he finally broke eye contact with Joon.

"That's a relief," Namjoon sighed, and his face showed his relief was real.

"Taehyung got cut up a little bit," Yoongi said sharply. It was petty, but he didn't want the younger alpha to feel as if there was no harm done, and he didn't expect Namjoon to care that you'd been shaken up.

"Is it bad?" Jin asked, looking concerned.

Yoongi shook his head again. "I patched him up. Y/N invited him into her nest to make him feel better, I think." He paused for a second, thinking about your behavior. "She sent me down here to see if anyone was hurt."

"We're all fine, Yoongi. Come have a seat," Jungkook replied, pulling out the chair beside him.

"I should go back to her."

"Yoongi." Jin's voice wasn't raised, but it was loud and firm enough to have Yoongi freezing as he turned away. He hugged the first aid kit to his stomach and dropped his chin. "I'm sure Jimin and Tae are taking perfectly good care of her. Come sit for a minute."

Yoongi hated the way it felt like he was in trouble, when he knew he had no reason to be. He hadn't gone and ruined a perfectly nice evening, or spooked his very nervous omega. But he turned and walked slowly to the table to sit anyway.

"You know it was an accident," Jin said calmly.

"I know," Yoongi answered curtly.

"Just let him apologize." Jin's voice was the slightest bit pleading, as if he were desperate to avoid more conflict between his alphas.

"I really am sorry, Yoongi. I would never–"

"You don't need to apologize to me," Yoongi interjected. "I'm not angry. Maybe if she'd been hurt…but I know you can't control your body. You've never been able to. I get that. But she doesn't know. She's terrified you will hurt her, just by accident. And with you accidents are bound to happen."

"I–" Namjoon began, but the other alpha didn't let him finish.

"Do you know how it hurts me to see her afraid? After all the horrors in her life, I only want to keep her from feeling afraid. I don't just want her to be safe. I want her to feel safe. And if she can't then we…If she can't feel safe with you…" The look of pure devastation on Yoongi's features hurt Namjoon more than any other thing could have.

"What can I do, Yoongi? Tell me. I'll make it right," he begged.

Yoongi sighed, desperate to keep himself together. "If you and her are going to live in the same house…if you're going to spend the whole summer together, you have to try to be gentler. Please try."

Namjoon reached across the table to lay his hand over Yoongi's where he clutched the kit still.

"I will try. I promise. I'll be more careful," Namjoon assured him. Yoongi merely nodded silently, unsure if that would be enough to settle all your nerves about the pack's largest alpha. As if he could read Yoongi's mind, Jin cleared his throat.

"I think, maybe, Y/N might feel a little more comfortable with us if she could see that you're comfortable with us," he suggested quietly. Yoongi's eyes flickered to the pack alpha's and then back to his hands.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," Jin sighed, "you're still holding us at arms length. I get maybe you still want to punish us for what we've done. I don't want to tell you how to feel or to get over it. But how could she ever trust us if she knows you don't?"

"She'll come to her own conclusions,"Yoongi mumbled.

"So you admit that you still don't trust us? You're still angry with me?" Jin sounded frustrated, but Yoongi could hear that really he was just heartbroken. It wasn't a pleasant feeling, knowing that his distance was hurting Jin. He wasn't really angry anymore. He hadn't found the time or energy to be angry. Any spare thought he had went directly to you. Maybe it was unfair, because he knew clearly in this moment that he still carried plenty of love in his heart for Jin and Namjoon.

"I'm not angry," he answered. "I just don't know what you want me to do. I've stayed. I've brought her here—sometimes against my better judgment—I don't know what I'm meant to do to fix things. They just have to heal in their own time." He shrugged.

"But how can they when this is the longest conversation we've had in weeks?"

"I don't know, Jin. It's just not my priority right now!" Yoongi snapped.

"Okay!" Hoseok interjected, coming closer to the men seated at the table for the first time. He'd been hesitant to interfere in the alphas' problems, but he knew both men well enough to see they were on the verge of saying things they didn't mean and would regret later. As soon as he approached, Jungkook's linen scent fluffed through the room, easing away the alphas' tension. "It's all okay. We don't have to solve it all tonight. It's late, and I think we should all just go to bed. Hm?" Hoseok put his hands on Jin's shoulders and gave a squeeze, satisfied when his shoulders relaxed.

"Yeah, fine," Yoongi answered. He stood quickly, scraping the box along the table before he picked it up and moved toward the stairs. He didn't want more conflict. He wasn't trying to prolong their distance. But it was impossible not to want to keep them away when he wanted so badly to be close to you, and to keep you safe.

Yoongi stopped in the bathroom, relieved to hear the giggles of you, Jimin and Taehyung coming through your door. After tucking the first aid kit back into its spot under the sink, he brushed his teeth. Hoseok met his eyes in the bathroom mirror when he stopped outside your door, but neither said a word before the omega slipped into your room to see for himself that you were unharmed. Yoongi remained quiet when he joined the four of you. Jimin had managed to get you into a pair of pajamas and your hair was an adorable disaster from being rolled around in your nest. You'd settled now between Jimin's legs with your back to his bare chest, your attention on Hoseok until Yoongi walked in, but you only spared him a glance. He wondered if even Jimin could tell how hard you were forcing your smile and your happy scent. Had he noticed that your eyes lacked the shine they usually got when the beta scented you silly?

"Come to bed so these kids can get to sleep," Hoseok said to Taehyung while Yoongi changed into his pajamas.

Taehyung whined softly. He'd only just been invited into your nest, and he wasn't ready to leave it already.

"Go on, Tae. Joon needs to know you're not upset with him," Yoongi encouraged quietly.

"Maybe I am," Taehyung mumbled. Hoseok reached for his hand and took it into his lap.

"You know he can't help himself, Tae. Give him a break, okay?"

The alpha grumbled wordlessly, but you nudged him with your foot.

"Go on, Tae Tae. I will be okay. My alpha is here." Taehyung's low rumble turned into a real growl, but you knew it was playful.

"Two alphas are better than one."

"Three are better than two!" Hoseok added. He stood from the edge of the bed and tugged on the youngest alpha's hand to come along. Tae allowed himself to be dragged off the bed, but pulled back to give you one kiss on the top of your head.

"See you tomorrow, sweet little. Sleep tight," he murmured, and then he was gone.

Closing the door, Yoongi turned off the lights before crawling into bed beside you.

"Goodnight," Jimin said, leaning over you to kiss Yoongi, making sure you got properly squished in the process.

"Goodnight," you whispered with a giggle when you received your own kiss.

You said nothing to Yoongi as the two of you cuddled together. Your head laid on his chest, listening to his slow, steady heartbeat as the house slowly went silent. You laid there, but didn't close your eyes, and Yoongi watched you without saying a word. You let the minutes stretch on until you'd been there for almost half an hour.

"How come you aren't sleeping?" you asked softly.

"You aren't sleeping either," he replied. You shifted slightly without moving away and traced his stomach with your fingertips.

"It's hard for me to sleep without your snoring." You felt his chest rise and fall with a huff and looked up to see his gummy smile for just a moment. Then he looked down at you seriously.

"You don't have to pretend for me. You don't have to pretend for anyone, but especially not me." You shifted again, but this time he could tell you were putting space between you.

"I don't know what you mean."

Yoongi grasped your wrist gently before you could move away from him. There wasn't far to go before you would run into Jimin, but he could only bare for you to move as far as it would take for you to look at him eye to eye. He rolled over and scooched down so his gaze was level to yours.

"You don't need to act as if Namjoon didn't scare you. You're still scared now. I don't think I can convince you that you're safe right now, but you are. I'm right here."

Your chest tightened at his words. You whispered, "I know," but it didn't stop your eyes from watering. Yoongi gathered you close, pressing you into his chest.

"I'm so angry."

"It was an–"

"I'm angry with myself. I shouldn't have brought you here." He felt you try to pull away, ready to argue, but he held you tight. "I should have taken you somewhere else. The three of us could have gotten an apartment. Shouldn't have kept you here with such clumsy, stupid alphas." At this point he sounded as though he was talking to himself, mumbling out the thoughts he'd been repeating in his head for the last hour.

"It's okay, Yoongi. I didn't get hurt," you tried to tell him.

"But you got scared, and that's just as bad in my eyes." You managed to pull away from him enough to look up at his face and touch his cheek. "You're still shaking. Do you think I can't feel that? Jimin and Tae scented you, but you didn't feel safe enough to let yourself get all dopey. Do you even realize? I can't stand this, and I hate that you're pretending just so we don't feel bad."

"Yoongi," you frowned and stroked your thumb over his cheekbone. "I'm not pretending because of that. I'm trying to be brave because I want to stay. Namjoon terrifies me, but I like it here. I like living with Hobi and Tae…and you and Jimin here. I'm still scared, but not enough to leave. So let me pretend, okay?" Yoongi sighed, a sign he wasn't accepting this yet. "I may not feel completely safe, but I feel happy. I'm like a stray dog. I may never feel safe, not completely. I might always be a little jumpy. But that doesn't mean I don't love my new home, or that it's not a good home."

Yoongi laughed almost silently and buried his head in your neck. "Don't call yourself a stray dog."

"That's what I am," you replied, combing your fingers through his hair. "I came up to you with big puppy eyes and asked you to stay."

"That's definitely not how it happened," he mumbled. But when he pulled you closer and inhaled your scent, you couldn't help smiling.

"I won't let anything happen to you," he breathed as he relaxed against the nest at last.

"I know," you replied. "So I think we can sleep now."

"Go ahead. I'll watch over you."

Your last shift ended fairly well. The library staff even brought donuts to wish you well. A couple of them who were betas even confessed that they were glad to hear you had settled in with a pack and would be staying home, because they often worried about you. You waited outside the library at your usual spot, pacing and checking your phone as minutes ticked by and terrible thoughts began to creep in.

What if they got into some kind of accident?

What if they dont want you, after all?

Just as you began to spiral into your worst thoughts, a familiar vehicle pulled up abruptly in front of you. Although you'd never ridden inside of it, you could still recognize Namjoon's blue volvo without looking at him, which you only did for the briefest of glances, just to be sure it was really him.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," he said, sounding out of breath as if he'd run instead of driven here.

I wasn't waiting for you, is what you wanted to say, but you merely stood still and stared at him with eyes as wide as saucers.

"Um," he began awkwardly as he got out of the car without killing the engine and walked toward you until he was only a couple yards away. He scratched nervously behind his ear as he tried to start again. "I know you were expecting Taehyung, but he cut his foot on a piece of glass that wasn't cleaned up from last night, and Hobi took him to the emergency room about twenty minutes ago. Didn't they text you?"

You shook your head, remaining silent.

"Yeah…so I was the only other person home so��here I am." He looked anxiously at the car, like he wished you'd just get in and save him the embarrassment of standing here in front of you. "I promise, I'm a good driver. And we don't have to talk or anything, if you don't want to."

You stared at him for a moment longer before your tongue unglued itself from the roof of your mouth.

"Does Yoongi know about this?"

Namjoons throat felt like sandpaper, and he seemed to shrink an inch. He shook his head. "I tried to call him but he didn't answer. He must be busy."

You hadn't moved an inch since he arrived, and he couldn't help wondering if he was really that terrifying.

"I promise, Y/N, I'm not going to hurt you." The idea that you ever thought he would hurt him in a way he couldn't account for. He knew he wouldn't, but the idea that you couldn't believe that cut him deep. What would he do if you never learned to trust him? If you never let him close to you? It wasn't something he ever gave himself permission to want, so why did not having it wound him so? He shook his head clear of the questions. "You can sit in the back and pretend I'm just the chauffeur."

You lifted your chin in his direction and narrowed your eyes. "I think I'll just take the bus."

Namjoons eyebrows raised. You can't possibly think he's that scary, could you? But instead he used what he knew was the only way to convince you.

"Do you really think Yoongi would approve of that?"

Your jaw tightened. You knew he was right. Looking down at your phone, you hoped for a notification from Yoongi, but there was one from Hoseok instead. You swallowed thickly when you read it.

Sorry, pup! There was an emergency. Namjoon should be there to pick you up. I promise it will be okay.

"How do you know you'll take me home and not somewhere else?" You finally asked. Namjoon's eyes grew wide and he actually took a step back. He rubbed his hand over his hair as he tried to process your question.

"What makes you think I would do something like that? What did Yoongi say to you?" Your brow furrowed at the strange question.

"Yoongi didn't have to say anything for me to know you don't want me around," you answered, an edge of bitterness lacing your words. Namjoon nearly choked.

"Y/n, that isn't true."

"If it isn't then why didn't you ever tell yoongi where I was when you knew I worked here? You and Jin didn't want him to know. You don't want me in your pack. I get it. It's fine. But you should know that Yoongi does want me, and if I don't come home there's no telling what he'll do." You were surprised by the firmness of your own voice as well as how sure you felt of your own words. Yoongi did want you, and you knew that was as fierce an attachment for him as it was for you.

Namjoon took several full breaths before he responded. "Y/N, I promise you, all I'm trying to do right now is take you home. I won't lie to you. I didn't want you to become a part of our pack at first but things have…changed. You're a part of our lives now either way. And I wouldn't risk losing Yoongi over you. I never would. So please. Just come home with me," he begged. While the two of you maintained eye contact—for longer than you had ever done before—he fought the instinct to grab you and put you in the car if you continued to protest, but he knew that would only hurt his cause. Just when he was about to lose this staring contest to you, your phone began to ring with Yoongi's ringtone.

"Hello?" You answered, only dropping your gaze from the alpha in front of you for a moment.

"Princess, are you okay?" He asked, sounding out of breath from the way his heart was pounding.

"I think so," you mumbled.

"I got a message from Joon that he was going to pick you up." You narrowed your eyes on the man in question.

"Yeah, he's here." Yoongi sighed in relief. "What should I do? I can take the bus."

"No, princess. Just go home with him, okay? I promise everything will be fine."

"I'm scared," you said so softly that Namjoon couldn't hear it.

"I know, and I'm sorry, but you don't need to be. You'll be safe with him, and I'll feel better if you go with him than on your own. I've got your location on. If anything happens to you I'll be there as soon as possible. But you're going to be okay. Trust me?" It was that simple, really. If Yoongi was asking you to trust him, then you would. As long as Yoongi promised you'd be safe, you'd make yourself believe him. He wouldn't let you down.

"Fine."

"Good girl. I'll be home in a few hours and I'll give you a reward for being so brave." Your cheeks heated at his words, but you couldn't deny loving it when Yoongi sometimes treated you like a child. No one had ever treated you with such gentle care before, and it felt like real love.

"I'll be waiting." You hung up and looked at Namjoon again. He looked back expectantly. "Yoongi said to go home with you. So I guess that's that."

You walked around the vehicle to sit in the back passenger seat, as far from him as possible. Namjoon didn't say a word as you got inside his car and buckled yourself in. As he pulled away from the library, you kept your eyes out the window even though you could feel his gaze on you through the rear view mirror. He chewed nervously on his lip as he glanced back and forth between the road and the mirror, but he kept silent until he was on the main road between the library and the house.

"We should try to be civil, at least," he said at last, speaking as if you'd been privy to the conversation in his head instead of coming into the middle. You didn't respond, so he went on. "We're going to be home together a lot this summer, and it would be easier on everyone if we tried to ease the tension." He finished softly, perhaps knowing he sounded ridiculous to you.

"I'll do my best to keep out from under foot, if you try not to throw anything at me again."

Namjoon deflated with a sigh. "I swear it was an accident."

"That's why I said try."

"I'm just clumsy. I never meant to hurt you."

"Do you honestly think I haven't heard every excuse in the book?" You rolled your eyes. "It just slipped. You ran into my fist. You really should be more careful where you're going."

"Y/N," Namjoon interrupted, trying hard not to become distressed as he drove, but honestly, your words were tearing him apart. Did you really have no idea the effect you had on him? "I'm sorry. I realize I haven't apologized to you directly for last night. I'm sorry for being so careless. I really will try to be more cautious. But I'm also sorry that other people have given you reasons not to trust them, or alphas, or me." He pulled to a stop at a red light and turned in his seat to look at you. "I get that you have no reason to trust me, and that I have to work for it. That's okay. I don't mind. But can you give me the benefit of the doubt and trust that Yoongi wouldn't have me in his life at all if you couldn't trust me?"

At last, you turned your head to look at him. "Why does everyone always pull the Yoongi card on me?"

"Because it always works," he smirked.

"Fuck," you muttered, because he was right. For whatever reason, you trusted Yoongi implicitly. And Namjoon had a point. Your alpha wouldn't have a dangerous person in his life, let alone trust them to be around you. So you merely nodded to his request, and the man turned forward just in time to see the light turn green before he drove you the rest of the way home.

A/n: I don't feel like this has been my best chapter, but I would love to hear your thoughts on it! Thanks for reading!

Permanent taglist: @lilacdreams-00 @wholockian1 @babycoffeefire @bri-mal @jikooksgirl19 @jaiuneamesolitaiire @marvelfamily3000 @borahae-reads @yoongiigolden @staerryminimini @valhallawhispers @m4gg13-g @i-have-no-life-charlie @hellokittiesxbae @pamzn @skyys-universe @nicholedobre-blog

Taglist: @ellesalazar @rinkud @osakis-gf @scuzmunkie @queen-in-the-shadows @toughbook @btskzfav @chansbaybygirl @cryingpages @alex--awesome--22 @singukieee @welcometomyworld13 @juju-227592 @bangtanflirt @wittyreader @nyrovieeie @welcome418 @lifeistooshorttowasteyourtime @moon-cupcakes @passionandsuga @m0v3m3ntsblog @kykyxstandler @ladyalicesbookstore @yoonseokerist @deejay08 @momoasenthusiasticreader @littlestarstinyseven @bittersweetbaylee @im-sinking-in-mud

688 notes · View notes

farfromsugafanfic · 1 year ago

Text

Dangerous | Chapter 11: Blossom [Final]

Genre: Enemies to Lovers, Bad Boy!Jimin, Bartender!Reader College AU

Pairing: Jimin/Named Reader

Rating: M | Minors DNI

Chapter Warnings: missing cat, references to insecurity/regret

A/N: I finally got this series fully posted! Thanks for reading and I hope you all enjoy the last chapter.

The world stood still. You pulled the covers back on your bed, opened every cupboard, pulled all the clothes from your dresser drawers. Jackson was not in your apartment.

Cursing to yourself, tears pricked out from the corners of your eyes. If you hadn't been so focused on the plan, so determined to make Jimin hate you once and for all, maybe you would've noticed the little kitten slipping out the door.

When your head stopped buzzing like an attacked beehive, you found yourself on the floor of your bedroom, surrounded by your clothes and shoes. Grabbing the nearest pair of sneakers, you put them on and threw on a jacket.

It was beginning to get dark, twilight starting to settle in across the city. Panic rose in you once again, Jackson could be nearly anywhere by now. Found by a friendly passerby, in an alleyway like where you found him, or worse, hit by a car or chased by stray dogs.

The fear of what you would find caused your arm to go limp when you grabbed the doorknob, legs frozen to the floor.

[][][]

Jimin managed to get out of bed and make himself dinner. His mind full of you. He couldn't forget the way you felt underneath him, the sound of your hitched breaths, and quiet curses.

You were beautiful and his head hurt from the way you'd left. He should've expected this. And really, he deserved it. His biggest mistake was letting you go, tricking you, and humiliating you.

He realized it before you came back into his life that night at the club. Jimin realized it almost immediately. Watching you run off into the woods, seeing the realization and hurt cross your face nearly simultaneously.

"Fuck," Jimin said, the memories of driving around that night coming back to him. He remembered that he circled that patch of woods until he was almost out of gas and it was three in the morning.

Jimin had no idea how you managed to get home. He still felt a lump in his gut at the thought of you walking all that way. He ran a hand through his hair, glancing at his phone as it lit up with an email notification.

It was nearly two am, but it was from the Dance Department. The audition results.

Jimin fumbled as he reached for his phone. Not since he was the one waiting for the results did he care so much. He knew your name would be there, it had to be. Even if you never talked to him again, there was nothing he wanted more than for you to get accepted into the program.

While the TAs got to provide written arguments for who they believe should be accepted, it ultimately came down to the professors on the panel. Jimin had seen the way the judges nodded during your performance, the few notes about mixture of style.

He opened the email and scanned the list of names, smiling when he noticed yours among them. Jimin wanted to call you, wish he could see your face light up when he told you the news, but you were probably asleep by now.

Just as he was about to place his phone down, thinking he should probably go to bed, his phone rang. Your name lit up the screen.

"Inna?" he said, his voice wary.

"Jimin, I came home and I can't find Jackson anywhere. I think he might've gotten out. And I don't know what to do. What if he got hit by a car? Or what if he's cold and scared somewhere? I—"

"Are you still at your place?" Jimin asked, already beginning to throw on a pair of jeans and a T-Shirt. Your voice was laden with sobs, cracking with already shed tears.

"Yes," you said. You sounded so small and Jimin felt a pang in his chest.

"I'm on my way. Just stay put, okay? Don't go looking for him alone. I'm gonna bring Tae, too."

Jimin was tempted to stay on the phone with you. He didn't trust that you weren't already hitting the sidewalk and going down strange, dark alleyways in search of your beloved kitten. But, he needed to round up some help first. Starting with his best friend and roommate.

"Wake up," Jimin said, pulling the covers off Taehyung. He'd insisted on sleeping on the couch after coming back to find the two of you in a rather compromising position with the smell of sex in the room.

Taehyung looked up at his friend with tired, confused eyes. When he met Jimin's, he knew something was wrong and got out of bed.

[][][]

It turns out Jimin had reason to worry about you hitting the streets on your own. When he hung up after promising to come, you didn't have time to explain that you already stood a block away at the entrance to an alleyway.

You were familiar with this particular alleyway. It was on the way between the bar where you used to work and your apartment. Carrying a pouch of treats, you shook them, rattling them like maracas.

"Jackson," you said, your voice high pitched and soft. You tried to hide the shake. "Kitty, kitty. Where are you?"

You expected him to go back to a place similar to where you found him, an alleyway or dumpster. Even though Jackson had begun to fill out since you'd adopted him, he will still small and would be able to squeeze into places he may not be able to get out of.

A dog barked and the cold reality of the night air ran down your spine. There were quite a few stray dogs in the area or dogs that owners watched haphazardly. Jackson would never be able to outrun one.

Tears pricked at your eyes and you felt pathetic. You hated crying and it seemed to be the only thing you were good at these days. Walking out of the alleyway, you caught site of Taehyung's huge, tan car driving at a definitely illegal speed towards your apartment.

You ran back out on the sidewalk and Jimin seemed to notice you as you watched the car come to an abrupt stop about a block away.

Parking along the street, you started walking towards the car and watched as Jimin and Taehyung climbed out. Jimin looked wide awake, his eyes widening as they caught sight of your tear laden eyes and messy hair. Taehyung, on the other hand, looked barely awake, his eyes still half closed and he wore a pair of silk pajamas with slides.

"I told you not to go out on your own," Jimin said, his hand immediately coming to your shoulder. "Are you okay?"

You nodded, though the way you shouldn't meet his eyes proved differently. You weren't sure whether it was the embarrassment from earlier that night, or that you didn't want him to see the worry and hopelessness that took over your features.

"He's been gone too long," you said. "He could be anywhere now."

"Hey, you know Jackson. He gets scared on his own. I doubt he wandered off too far." Jimin wrapped his arms around you and brought you to his chest. You felt his hands leave your body as he motioned for Taehyung to look around. "I've called in some help. It shouldn't take them too long and with everyone's help, we'll find him, love. Don't worry."

He placed a small, barely there kiss in your hair. You felt a rush of cool night hair suddenly pierce through your clothes, causing you to lean more into Jimin's embrace. Despite having been in his arms just hours before, it felt different. It felt like you were two people wax molds of one another.

You didn't start out fitting together. Two blocks of wax that required a little warmth and a little pressure to bend this way and that, eventually coming to match each other.

Calming down, you started the search again, walking back towards your building to search closer to home. Jimin was right. Jackson wouldn't have wandered far on his own.

Jimin lagged behind you. You occasionally heard his soft calls as the two of you paused at alleyways or peaked under parked cars. But otherwise, he was silent.

"Inna," he said, eventually. "Have you seen the audition results yet?"

You stopped. The city was silent around you. Not even a distant siren or car horn could be heard. You shivered, rubbing your bare legs together. You hadn't even changed before you noticed Jackson was missing. Throwing on a flannel, you'd run out the door.

"No," you said, having not remembered they come out that night. You'd been too wrapped up in your plans to get revenge on Jimin and then later on, too wrapped up in Jimin to remember.

"Do you want me to tell you if you got in?" he asked.

"Is this really the right time for this, Jimin?" Your voice rose an octave and you felt your nose becoming congested at the thought of crying once again.

"You got in."

It felt like an earthquake was splitting the sidewalk beneath your feet. You should feel happy. You do feel happy. But it is fully eclipsed by your worry for Jackson, the embarrassment you feel after walking out on Jimin. You tore your gaze away from him and continued in the direction you were going previously.

"Aren't you happy?" he asked. His hand flew out to grip your elbow with a feather light touch.

"How can I be happy right now, Jimin? I just want Jackson back. I want to stop feeling—everything."

Jimin's dark eyes softened in the same way he'd looked at Jackson when you found him in the alleyway.

"Inna—"

Jimin's phone rang. He answered it, seeing it was Namjoon who had come to help search. Few words were exchanged before Jimin held out his hand and nodded in the opposite direction.

"They think they found him," he said. "But they need us to confirm."

Your heart soared. Taking Jimin's hand without a thought, you ran in the other direction. It was only just over a block away, but the two of you were catching your breath as you saw three of the men Jimin had called in to help.

It was a little funny to see all of them together outside of the club. Namjoon looked tired but was the only one who had bothered to completely change out of his pajamas. Taehyung stood beside him, a little more awake than when you first saw him. Finally, Hoseok was the furthest away from you and the deepest into the alleyway, greeted you with a smile. You wondered if he had even gone to bed yet, considering the easy smile and the lack of bags under his eyes.

Taehyung held something in his arms and you recognized the form of a kitten. You approached him and your stomach sunk as you saw the kitten. It was obviously not Jackson. The kitten was gray like him, but was a tabby.

"It's not him," you said. You fell to your knees allowing the ground to scrape them. You didn't care. You felt Jimin reach to catch you, but it had been unexpected and you nearly brought him down with you. "We're never gonna find him."

Your hands covered your eyes and your breaths splintered between sobs. Jimin crouched to comfort you. Even though his arms felt like the warm blanket you so desperately wanted to fall into, you pushed him away.

"Jimin, I—I can't do this. I think I'm falling for you too and I don't deserve to."

The words tumbled from your mouth. You didn't care that the other guys were there. In fact, they hardly seemed surprised, more caught up in the charms of the other kitten.

"Who says you don't deserve it?"

"Me," you said. Your tears were drying, unable to produce anymore. "I've played a dangerous game with you and I never intended it for it to be like this. I thought I could just rile you up. Make you hate me as much as I used to hate you."

Jimin examined your face. He didn't say a word though, his plump lips firmly shut.

"But in the end, I just ended up hurting myself. And you. And now we've lost Jackson because of my obsession with getting back at you."

The other three guys came running into the alleyway. Jungkook, Yoongi, and Jin all had sweat on their brows.

"Was it him?" Jungkook asked, looking down at you.

It took only a curt shake of your head for him to understand. You stood up feeling the blood leak from your knees and onto your shins.

You knew you were a mess. You could only imagine the way your hair was falling out of its bun and your bloody knees looked.

"I need to get out of here."

"Inna! Wait!"

Jimin grabbed your wrist before you could leave, turning you around to face him.

"You need to stop running away from things that scare you." He reached up, moving stray hairs off your face. "I can still see you're the same girl from all those years ago. Thinking that running away will make me forget about you."

Your body felt like it melted into the cement. You felt every point where his skin touched yours. He looked sincere, his face beginning to look wary in the early morning hours.

"It won't, Inna. Nothing will make me forget about you."

You lurched away from him, stumbling out onto the sidewalk with a similar swagger to the guys at the club that used to drink too much. Your movements were too quick, they were futile in preventing from running straight into a man on the sidewalk.

You fell backward onto your ass. The man wavered, but didn't fall, intently focused on not dropping what was in his arms. His face was handsome and vaguely familiar. Maybe he used to come into the club?

"Jackson?" You heard Jimin ask.

"Jimin?" the man asked, turning towards Jimin.

As you stood up you heard a familiar mew. Your eyes darted to the tabby kitten that Taehyung still held, but it slept peacefully in his arms.

Part of you didn't want to believe in fate like this. That things were pre-determined and meant to be. But, a sense of relief passed over you as you lunged for the gray kitten in the man's arms.

"Jackson!"

"Uh, yeah? That's me," the man said, giving you an odd look as your approached him and attempted to scoop the kitten from his arms.

"No, dude, she's talking about the kitten. He's, uh, also named Jackson."

"Oh," the man said, releasing his hold on your gray kitten. Jackson climbed to your shoulder, resting his head in the curve of your neck. He purred.

"Jackson found Jackson," Hoseok said, laughing.

"This is why I wanted to call him Mochi." Jimin came towards you, smiling at the looks of content on both your face and the kitten's. "But someone is stubborn and now he only responds to Jackson."

"Hmm," was your only reply. The exhaustion was beginning to wash over you now that you had Jackson back in your arms.

The rest of the guys were chatting with Jackson and you overheard him say that he found him in an alleyway outside some club. You smiled and closed your eyes. If it weren't for the cool air you could've fallen asleep right there.

Jimin reached up to pet Jackson and pressed his cheek against the kitten's back. "I'm glad we have him back."

The voices of the guys faded away as they walked down the sidewalk. It was just you and Jimin now.

"Did I really get in?" you asked.

Jimin's eyes looked just as tired as your own. It seems the adrenaline had been the only thing keeping him going too.

"Yes," he said. "You do."

"Do they not like when the beginners date the upperclassmen?"

Jimin's eyes narrowed at your question. "I don't think so. Why?"

"Just asking."

And then, you kissed him.

You realized the danger Jackson had found himself in. Risking getting hit by a car, kidnapped by a well meaning stranger. All to go back to the place where he found his family.

The danger you were in when you ran out onto the streets in the middle of the night to find him. When you trusted your ex-boyfriend too much. The danger of playing with someone's fragile heart.

It was a little awkward with Jackson between your chests. Your lips met at a weird angle and you almost knocked noses before meeting his lips. Yet, kissing Jimin felt like the safest thing in the world.

Previous | Masterlist

#bts #bts fanfic #park jimin #jimin fanfic #park jimin fanfic #bts fan fiction #bts fanfiction #jimin fan fiction #park jimin fan fiction #jimin x reader #jimin x oc #bts fic #fan fiction bts #bangtan fanfiction #kpop fanfiction #jimin fluff #jimin angst #jimin smut #jimin bts

5 notes · View notes

curryshesus · 5 months ago

Text

jeon jungkook fics that own my mind, body, heart, and soul

in other words, this is a collection of my favorite jk fics on tumblr! if you enjoyed any of these fics as much as i did, pls remember to support the authors by interacting with their post. part 2 | other bts members

➺ bitchin - by @kinktae

summary: the 80s were a time of choices. which perm was right for you? what color neon would you wear next? none of these choices, however, were more questionable than a certain deal you made with jeon jungkook.

➺ idealizations concerning real life relations - by @venusiangguk

summary: jungkook loves to be loved, but he doesn’t love in return.

➺ hotter than hell - by @chateautae

summary: jungkook, lucifer and king of hell, has been cast out of the crimson underworld for a reason he’s unsure of. embarking on his journey for the answer should’ve been easy, if it weren’t for you, the human that nurses his wounded body in her home, and accidentally witnesses the truth of his identity. kickstarting a hellish adventure with the devil himself, you discover lucifer is the most infuriating company ever; and jungkook finds out that maybe his answer to returning home lies within his annoying human confidant.

➺ jump then fall (into you) - by @writtenwhalien

summary: bringing Jungkook along as your date to your ex’s lavish cruise wedding seemed like a perfect idea at first — all of your family and close friends together, nothing can go wrong… then Jungkook’s ex shows up and all of a sudden you’re in a years long relationship with him. You don’t mind though, really, how hard can sharing a cabin and pretending to be deeply in love with your best friend really be?

➺ too late to dream - by @kookslastbutton

summary: You did it. You married your college professor. You even bought a house together. Against all odds, everything had fallen into place. But after two years of marriage, you begin feeling something was missing. You want a baby but your husband can’t say the same.

➺ the forgotten spaces- by @oddinary4bts

summary: you've been dancing on the same dance crew since your teenage years, and you finally have an important role in it. It feels like life is taunting you when your rival comes back after disappearing for a year, ready to tease you every chance he gets. Will the teasing turn into more, or are you going to take him down with you?

➺ when the end comes - by @oddinary4bts

summary: Seven years after you've started dating Jungkook, long distance creates a wedge in your relationship. When the only solution seems to be breaking up, you go your separate ways even though love still lives in the two of you. Will you find a way back together, or has the end come for you and Jeon Jungkook? **sequel to the forgotten spaces

➺ falling - by @starshapedkookie

summary: soulmate (noun): a person who is bound to another through the strongest level of emotional and physical connection. one is given a name on the body upon 18 years of age and any transgressions against the laws of soul-bonding will not occur without harm.

➺ love alive - by @jamaisjoons

summary: a year after you and jungkook break up, the two of you meet at your brother’s party.

➺ changes in between - by @taegularities

summary: Becoming the roommate of Jeon Jungkook is the biggest change you’ve ever gotten thrown into - but little do you know that the addition of another man will bring even further turbulence into your (love) life.

➺ falling skies - by @fortunexkookie

summary: Jeon Jiyeon was your childhood best friend; her brother, Jungkook, was something else entirely. You used to be friends, but then he had gone from endearingly frustrating dumb boy to card-carrying fuckboy so fast it had given you whiplash.

Despite the teasing and fighting, Jiyeon realized how Jungkook felt about you long before he did - it was a twin thing - and if you were her sun, and he was her moon, then she just wished she could show you how he reflected your light.

➺ sugarplum elegy - by @bymoonchild

summary: You know no bounds nor depth with Jungkook. While your fuck buddy loves sleeping in your bed and doing laundry for you with his favourite fabric softener, you are in love with a mysterious honeyed, velvety voice on Soundcloud. All’s fine, until you find out that the voice that metaphors your heart to a sweet sugarplum melody actually belongs to the boy who has been taking up a special spot in your bed and in your heart, strumming at your heartstrings all this while. Or, Jungkook has one braincell, but it’s heart-shaped.

➺ an abundance of mondays - by @diortae

summary: "why the fuck would it be easy? you’re disgustingly in love with your best friend. of course it’s complicated.” he pauses to roll his eyes, as if he hasn’t just laid out the most secret parts of you here in the middle of the campus dining hall.

➺ five dates - by @kpopfanfictrash

summary: “Ten dates,” he nods, smile tugging at his lips. “Ten dates, to decide if you want this – want me – or want me to go. Ten dates to get to know me. Ten dates,” he says, oddly soft, “to fall in love with me.” Which then becomes five.

➺ here comes the bride, all dressed in pride - by @hansolmates

summary: You and your cousin Doyeon have had beef with each other since the sandbox. When she plucks the last straw, you decide to end your long-simmering fight by claiming that you and her ex—Jeon Jungkook, are now boyfriend and girlfriend

➺ if i told you - by @gukyi

summary: in order to pay for university, jeon jungkook decides to market his most valuable asset to the wealthy socialites of campus: himself. donning a suit and tie, tousled hair, and glasses (to look smarter), he becomes every rich daughter’s dream: the perfect boyfriend to bring to balls, dinners, and business gatherings. all while you watch from the sidelines, only able to dream of having that much money to buy yourself what you really want: him.

5K notes · View notes

sketchguk · 1 year ago

Text

in my head; kth

➵ pairing: fwb!taehyung x reader

➵ genre: pwp (porn with plot), angst, college au

➵ word count: 8k

➵ synopsis: taehyung’s friends love you ー adore you. they probably want to fuck you, but they’ll never admit to it. instead, they’ll push taehyung’s limits in the middle of a frat party, testing just how close they can get to you before he takes you to bed in a fit of jealousy. and maybe, just maybe, one of his friends can have a taste too (if he’s lucky).

inspired by thuy's in my head

warnings under the cut!

➵ warnings: unrequited love, commitment issues, dacryphilia, degradation (use of the word slut, whore, and pervert), fingering, oral (f receiving), spit kink, overstimulation, use of the color system, breast play, hand job, unprotected (jealous/possessive) sex, marking, impact play (slapping - face & pussy, spanking), breeding kink, choking, mirror sex, voyeurism, exhibitionism, manhandling, mentions of intoxication (mc & taehyung are sober!), use of the word daddy, mentions of religion, ass play, mentions of dp, creampie

You can’t help but think that this is a terrible idea. The heavy bass and the sound of rap lyrics vibrate through the walls of the old Victorian house. Unfamiliar voices are muffled beneath the syncopated beats, and you can’t make out a single word.

You’ve managed to escape the sticky, beer-stained floors and the heat of the frat party downstairs. Instead, you’ve sought refuge in one of the bedrooms, hand-in-hand with none other than Kim Taehyung himself.

The space around you is dark, save for the dim lamp behind you. You’re propped on top of his tiny desk, careful not to knock over the expensive camera that rests beside you.

“I thought you were gonna show me your new photos.” You pull apart from Taehyung’s lips, meeting his gaze between pretty eyelashes.

Your words slur, finding it difficult to talk with his tongue in your mouth. A string of spit connects your lips together. It threatens to break loose the further you recline.

With hooded eyes, he leans forward, chasing after your kiss. “What’s the rush?”

His lips brush against the corner of your mouth as his hand wanders down to the hem of your dress, bunching it over your waist. The straps have already fallen loose from your shoulders, the top of your breasts spill out from over the fabric.

Taehyung grips your jaw, squeezing your cheeks between his fingers. His nose nudges against the column of your neck. A sigh falls from his lips as he lingers over your pulse point, his breath hot against your skin, teeth grazing.

He glides a finger over the taut fabric of your panties. It’s soaked from your arousal, wet and sticky between your thighs.

“Look at the mess you’ve made,” he taunts with a crooked smile. “I’ve barely even touched you.”

Although that may be true, you’ve been kissing for what feels like over an hour.

In an effort to pull him closer, you wrap your legs around his waist. The outline of his erection leaves an imprint against the fabric of his sweats. It rests against your core, hot and heavy. You shift in your seat, desperately wanting him to pull your underwear to the side so he could stuff you full.

“Who got you this worked up, hm?” Taehyung dips his head down to kiss your shoulder.

His fingers squeeze your cheeks once again, and he angles your face to look him in the eyes, domineering. The hum of his low voice sends a shiver down your spine. His gaze is dark and hazy with lust and desire.

There’s a soft glow of light that surrounds you, almost like a halo. Taehyung thinks that you look the prettiest at times like this ー when you’re pressed beneath his weight, right in the palm of his hands.

You meet his eyes before shifting focus to his swollen lips. He quirks his brow, and you melt in his touch. Perhaps you’ve been staring at him for a moment too long because you can feel your saliva pool out of your mouth, dribbling down your chin.

Taehyung’s thumb swipes across your bottom lip, collecting your drool. “What’s wrong, love?” He tsks, tapping the side of your cheek. “You always have so much to say, but now what? Don’t tell me you’ve gone this stupid for cock.”

A fervent whine escapes from your parted lips. Your eyes brim with tears as your cunt pulses with desperate need, aching to feel Taehyung inside of you, even if it’s just the tip.

Taehyung throbs at the sight of your soaked eyelashes, but he pays no mind to your pleas as he sinks down to his knees.

“Let’s try again.” He spreads your legs further apart, trailing kisses against the inside of your thigh. “Who made you this wet?” His lips hover over your panty clad cunt before mouthing against the fabric.

“Taehyung, don’t tease,” you shake your head, babbling. “You’re the only one I want, you know that.”

He pushes the cotton aside, revealing your sweet pussy to his wandering eyes.

“I’m the only one?” In a deep voice, he hums against your folds. “Are you sure it’s not Namjoon?”

You shake your head in denial. “Just you,” you say in a hushed tone.

His fingers spread your lips apart, watching you clench around nothing. Taehyung lingers above you before releasing a glob of spit onto your core. It glides between your slit, dripping down your entrance.

You spread your legs wider, making room for his broad shoulders. His gentle, teasing fingers trace across your sensitive lips before dipping them between your velvety walls.

“You seemed to be really cozy with Joonie though,” Taehyung pumps two fingers inside of you, easily gliding between your soaked cunt. “You were acting like such a needy slut downstairs, I swear that you wanted to fuck my friends.”

His jaw clenches. You can sense a hint of jealousy in his tone. You find that to be odd considering Taehyung is never jealous.

He’s not even yours.

Taehyung has always been difficult to read. More often than not, in the lonely hours of the night, you’re within an arm's reach, prepared to keep him company, dropping everything at his beck and call.

After tangling between the sheets at the end of every night, he’d comb his fingers through your freshly-washed hair, careful not to linger too long on the hickeys that scatter across your collarbone.

Meanwhile, you’d trace hearts onto his back, wondering what he thinks about when he looks at you ー whether or not your name sits inside of his head in that current moment, if ever at all.

Time and time again, he reminds you that this is just casual. The two of you are supposed to let loose and have fun.

Yet he holds your hand so gently when you cross the street, when you slow dance in the quiet of the night, and when he fucks you deeply and ardently into the mattress. After, he’d order Chinese delivery to your house, stuffing siu mai in your cheeks so that you would shut up and stop talking nonsense about paying him back.

He even kisses your forehead and calls you his good girl after leaving love bites on your neck.

It would be impossible not to fall for someone like Kim Taehyung as kind, sweet, and humble as he is.

If you ask him to be your boyfriend, would he laugh? Would he furrow his brows and wonder why? Would he utter a vague response? Something along the lines of “I don’t know.” He often deploys these words when he’s faced with questions he doesn’t want to think about.

In your mind, the worst case scenario occurs when Taehyung breaks it off right then and there, asking you to leave. Meanwhile, you linger by the door, begging him to love you just once, and maybe twice ー Through the ups, downs, and in betweens.

It never happens. You never ask. You never bring it up. You just go through the motions, settling for the warmth of Taehyung’s body, even if it’s a temporary fix.

Lost in your own thoughts, you bite back a whimper. Your hand shoots up to cover your mouth. Taehyung grabs your wrist, placing it at the edge of his desk.

“You weren’t this shy when you were whispering in Jimin’s ear ー when his hand was on your thigh, and when you were acting like a huge, desperate cock tease.”

The possessive part of Taehyung’s brain takes root when he guides his hand between your legs, slapping your clit. Shuddering under his touch, you release a silent scream.

Taehyung plunges another finger inside of you, stretching you apart with a steady pace. It feels like too much, yet not enough at the same time. Your head is spinning, body sensitive from the heat of his skin against yours.

“I want to hear you cry for me.” His brows furrow. A look of faux sympathy crosses his angelic features. “Unless you don’t want my friends to hear you being such a whore.” He speaks so casually, as if he didn’t just drop another glob of spit onto your mound. “I’m sure you wouldn’t mind if Namjoon was here though ー watching you.”

You shake your head, panting for air, trying to catch your breath as he curls his fingers inside of you.

“Really? Then how about Jimin?” He taunts you so cruelly.

Your tongue darts out of your mouth, licking your lips before you can bring yourself to speak. It’s too difficult to form words when your mind is numb on pleasure, nothing but a steady hum of static.

But if there’s one thing that you should know about Taehyung is that he is not a patient man (despite the fact that he’s been edging you for the better part of the last hour). It’s evident when he wraps his hand around your throat, bringing your attention back to his hazy eyes. He needs your answer, and he needs it now.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you,” he says, demanding, squeezing the column of your neck.

He’s obsessed with the way your throat constricts beneath the pressure of his grip as you swallow your spit.

“Would you prefer if Jeongguk was here then?”

His lips curl into a smile as if he’s testing you, but you see right through his sweet facade. Kim Taehyung is nothing if not mean in bed. If you were to be honest, he would find a way to punish you despite the reassurance in his tone.

After all, Kim Taehyung has never been one to show you mercy. He will spank you, choke you, and fuck you until you’re at the edge of your limit, simply because you let him. Because you love it, and you love when you’re reduced to nothing but a slutty little mess.

“It’s just you, Tae,” you murmur weakly. “Just want you, not Guk.” Despite the affirmation in your voice, your walls clench around Taehyung’s fingers.

Guk? Since when did you ever use nicknames with Jeongguk?

“Love, we both know that’s not true,” he says, slapping your clit once again.

You curse under your breath.

“‘m sorry, ‘m sorry,” you sob with tears streaming down your face, but you adore every second of it. Taehyung takes a moment to wipe the tears from your eyes before pressing a tender kiss to the apples of your cheeks.

“I saw the two of you at the door earlier,” Taehyung begins, swiping his tongue across his bottom lip, biting the flesh between his teeth.

It’s true that Jeongguk invited you to the party. Actually, he asked you long before Taehyung had even brought it up. But no, Jeongguk is not your date and neither is Taehyung.

At the very least, Jeongguk had the decency to acknowledge you and give you an ounce of attention (Taehyung would argue that Jeongguk looks at you like he’s in love with you, yet you remain oblivious, chalking it down to being friends).

The entire evening, you talked his ear off about your neuroscience research ー the idea of emotional numbness being a symptom of certain psychological disorders. It sounds depressing, but when you manage to break it down, comparing it to Widowmaker’s genetically modified brain chemistry, Jeongguk clung onto your every word.

Not only are you so adorable, but so fucking brilliant. On top of that… you can unpack the lore of his favorite Overwatch hero for hours on end? You might just be the girl he’s been searching for in all of his dreams. It’s no wonder he looks at you with so much love in his eyes.

Meanwhile, throughout the whole night, Taehyung was too “busy” to approach you ー only watched from afar. He can’t risk the thought of people finding out about your relationship. Rather, he was swarmed with girls hanging off of his arm, vying for his attention. Yet the only thing he saw was you.

You finally had a moment alone when he brushed against your arm, asking you to trail him upstairs to “show” you the photos he took on his new camera.

And that is exactly how you found yourself in this predicament.

“Jeongguk was so sweet to take off your jacket and offer you a drink.” Taehyung circles your clit with calloused fingers as if he has all the time in the world.

These soft, gentle touches only mark the beginning of your punishment, and you’d be lucky if you could crawl out of bed tomorrow morning. You close your eyes, praying to a higher power that you’ll make it out of here in one piece.

“Have you seen the way he looks at you?” He murmurs against your jaw, pressing a kiss to your chin, barely missing the soft curve of your lips. “I’m pretty sure he thinks about you when he touches himself.”

To emphasize his point, Taehyung glides his hand down the inner part of your thigh. Goosebumps ripple across your skin as you shiver in his hold.

“What if Jeongguk was here, watching you beg for my cock, hm?” Taehyung hums. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

You whine desperately, saying anything that would please Taehyung despite how easily your body betrays you ー pussy pulsing with need, carnal and insatiable.

Anyone could tell that Jeongguk has a huge crush on you. It’s in the way that he looks at you with wide, lovestruck eyes. He holds onto every single one of his words as if you’re rewriting the stars. Whenever you share a lame joke that flies over everyone’s head, he’s giggling like it’s the funniest thing in the world.

Truthfully? Nothing pisses Taehyung off more than that.

Somehow, even the sound of Jeongguk’s name makes you clench around Taehyung’s fingers.

“Do you want him to fuck you?”

The image of Jeongguk making room for himself in your cunt makes you break into tears, sobbing. Or perhaps Jeongguk would be the type to take it slow, you can never be so sure. His pretty face is so deceptive. Maybe he would memorize every inch of your skin and make love in a way you’ve never quite understood.

“Because I know that Guk wants to.” Taehyung says it as a matter of fact. As if he knows something that you don’t. There’s malice in his tone when he utters the nickname you’ve defaulted to.

“Would you let the boys watch? Namjoon? Jimin? You know they’re quite fond of you, right? You might give them the impression that they have a chance with you because you’re such an easy slut.” Taehyung spins a dirty fantasy inside of your head while he rubs deft circles onto your clit. Your slick arousal seeps out of your pulsing cunt, soaking his fingers.

“I bet you’d let Jeongguk fuck you raw too.”

The innermost part of you thinks about Jeongguk losing his innocent image so that he could stretch you open and flood you with his cum, round after round. How he would plug your needy cunt with his length, forcing you to cockwarm him, locking his cum inside of you until he’s ready to ruin you all over again.

How would Taehyung feel if he were to watch? You can’t decide if he would love it or hate it, and neither can you.

Jeon Jeongguk is nothing if not kind, so surely, he could do you one favor, right?

With the thought of Jeongguk stretching you open, your orgasm washes over you, and you tremble in Taehyung’s arms, consumed by your climax. You cry out, muttering apologies over and over again. Tears cascade down your cheeks, unable to control yourself.

But perhaps you’re not sorry at all.

That’s all it takes for Taehyung to latch his mouth onto your clit, sucking harshly on the small bundle of nerves. You buck your hips, wanting him impossibly closer, but his hands squeeze around your waist, pinning you to the table.

His tongue delves between your entrance, lapping the arousal that drips out of you. The taste of your cum is such a sweet reward, but it’s almost offensive how you could come to the thought of fucking another man, a man who is not him, but one of his friends and fraternity brothers. Even if Taehyung was the one to flood your head with thoughts of Jeongguk, he can’t seem to handle the truth.

Maybe, just maybe, it’s because you could slip through his fingers and leave him at any point in time. How much longer can you deal with this lack of commitment ー no strings attached situationship?

The gossip among your friends isn’t lost on him. He knows that they don’t like him, always urging you to step away. An ember ignites inside of his chest when he recounts a conversation he once overheard: ‘Jeongguk’s been asking about you. You should give him a chance, don’t you think? What if he’s the one?’

As if Taehyung has something to prove, he works you into overdrive, sucking your clit into his mouth as he rolls the small bundle of nerves with his tongue.

You reach down, gripping his hair between your fingers, feeling much too overstimulated after your first orgasm. Taehyung digs his face deeper into your pussy in hopes that he can elicit the sweet whimpers that make his cock leak with beads of precum.

From beneath his desk, he drags down the band of his sweats, just low enough for him to pull out his dick. His hand wraps around his length, jerking off to the sound of your moans and the way that your pussy weeps for him, squelching into the quiet of the night.

Taehyung eats you out like he’s starving ー messy and depraved. You’re dripping in arousal, completely soaking his chin with your essence.

Your legs quiver, closing around Taehyung’s head as you approach your high once again. He circles his arms around your thighs, spreading them wide apart. You’re rendered immobile, forced to take him like the good girl he knows you are.

He picks up the pace, forcing his tongue deep between your walls.

Trembling in his hold, you tip over the edge with a sob that rips through your throat. Your cunt pulses as he laps up the cum dripping from your core.

Your fingernails dig into his scalp, yet Taehyung has no intention of stopping. In fact, the pain drives him to work even faster. He swipes his tongue against your clit, sucking on the bud and working you into overstimulation. He needs to make sure that you don’t ever think about touching another man but him.

He may not be yours, but you are his without a single doubt.

Taehyung plunges his fingers back inside of you, massaging the inside of your cunt with delicious friction. It’s on the border of pleasure and pain, yet you welcome it as you ride out your high.

“Taehyung…” You whimper in a weak voice, “It’s too much…” Once more, you tug on his hair, pulling him apart from your cunt, even as it pulses in his wake.

But Taehyung can’t help himself, lurching forward, he wedges himself between your thighs. He needs to taste you, just a little more as if this is the last time he’ll ever have you. He kisses your clit, repeatedly, one smooch after another ー completely pussy drunk. He knows that you can take it.

You slump against his desk, legs weak. But there’s nothing you can do. What Taehyung wants, Taehyung gets. And all he wants is to mark you, claim you, and breed you until you’re filled with his cum for days on end.

Taehyung wipes his chin with the back of his hand, and it just might be the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. He picks you up from beneath your thighs, and you wrap your arms around his neck.

You’re no stranger to the bounce of his bed as he lays you on top of his covers. You’ve been there a dozen times before, having memorized the feeling of the cool, linen fabric against your exposed skin.

Taehyung tugs on the neckline of your dress, revealing your breasts to his hungry eyes. He suckles on one of your pert nipples while twisting the other between his thumb and forefinger.

Meanwhile, you reach forward, palming his erection through his sweatpants. He grinds against your hand as he hums into your chest. Murmurs of “mine, mine, mine.”

His hand reaches down to circle your wrist before shoving them down his pants. He dips your hand beneath the fabric, guiding your hand to fist his cock, pumping his length without the burden of cotton in between.

It’s heavy in your hands, long and thick. You can barely wrap your fingers around the circumference of it all.

Taehyung shifts focus onto your neck, sucking love bites into your delicate skin. To fuel his ego, he needs the rest of the world to know that you belong to him. That nobody can fuck you better than him. Not Namjoon, not Jimin, and definitely not Jeongguk.

“Tae, I need you.” The words are slurred coming out of your mouth. You’re delirious, yet you haven’t even had a taste of him.

“You think you deserve my cock?” He tilts his head to the side, arching his brow. His question is rhetorical, yet you can’t help but nod with desperation.

It’s condescending and downright degrading, but you grow wetter upon tasting his arrogance. You should feel pathetic for wanting his warmth and his comfort, yet in this very moment, he is the only thing that you crave.

Taehyung tugs his shirt over his head and drags his sweatpants down to his thighs. He slides his bare cock between your folds. It’s puffy and much too sensitive, but you love the feeling of his weight on you.

He taps your clit with the head of his cock once, twice, three-four times.

“Who does this pretty cunt belong to?” He doesn’t shift his gaze, even when your eyes roll back, consumed with blinding pleasure.

“It’s yours, Taehyung,” you whimper, melting into the sheets. “I’m all yours.”

“Good girl, that’s what I like to hear,” he says before tapping your bottom lip.

Instinctually, you open your mouth, and he drops a glob of spit straight down your throat.

Before you can even swallow, Taehyung is lining up his cock with your entrance until he bottoms out, leaving you with little to no time to adjust to his girth.

“My pussy’s all yours.” You manage to mutter a string of words, breathless, half coherent as he stretches you wide open.

“Mine?” Taehyung quirks his brow. His jaw clenches. “Then how about I fuck a baby inside of you, huh?”

If you had any semblance of sanity, your rationality would have spoken against it. But when Taehyung looks at you with such desperate eyes, almost animalistic, you can’t help but to wrap your legs around his waist, forcing his cock deeper into your fertile cunt, begging him to breed you.

The squelch of your heat fills the otherwise quiet room. It’s verging on pornographic ー the sound of skin slapping on skin. When he nestles his hips against yours like two pieces of a puzzle, he groans against your collarbone, resuming his mission to claim you and make you his, ravishing your skin until a deep bruise forms in its place.

He glides into you so effortlessly, his pace punishing. The slick of your arousal allows him to rut into you like you were made for him. By now, you’re certain that he’s fucked your pussy into the shape of his cock. It’s reserved for Taehyung so long as he’ll have you.

He grabs the back of your thighs, folding you in half, right into a press, perfect for breeding. But not before roughly delivering a spank to the curve of your ass. The impact leaves a temporary mark, and you thrive off of the attention that he gives you.

You’re so fucked out, you can’t think of anything other than coming with Taehyung’s name on your tongue.

He pounds into you with a force that causes your body to inch up the mattress. The bed frame rocks against the wall, but neither of you care about the repercussions. Nobody could possibly hear you whoring yourself out when the boom of the bass is so loud downstairs.

Would it really be such a bad thing if someone were to catch you?

It should be humiliating how wet you are, soaking his cock like a bitch in heat. But in fact, you’re in love with the way he prods your cervix as he finds his home nestled inside of you.

Taehyung grips the underside of your jaw, turning your head so that you can face the floor length mirror on the other side of the bed.

His lips press against the shell of your ear as he whispers sweet nothings against your blazing hot skin. “You’re such a good girl. Look at how well you take me,” he coos.

You stare into your reflection, eyes meeting your own in the mirror. Your makeup is a complete and utter mess. Your mascara runs down your cheeks from the tears in your eyes, your lipgloss stained from all the kisses you’ve shared.

Taehyung’s hips roll against yours, and your gaze shifts to the strain of his muscles. His back is so broad and so strong. His biceps flex from holding himself above your body.

From this angle, you can see the way he drives into you. Your pussy can’t help but swallow him deeper and deeper, accommodating his length as it drags against your walls with a delicious, slow burn. He fucks you so ardently, he can barely pull away for long before burrowing right back into your core, settling into the deepest parts of you.

With your eyes trained on the mirror, you can spot the faint love bite that blooms beneath his ear. Perhaps there is a small part of Kim Taehyung that does belong to you. Or maybe your mind is playing tricks on your heart once again.

Taehyung props himself up on his knees for more leverage. But before he can situate himself, he notices the small crack in the doorway, slightly ajar. Through the gap, he can see the wandering eyes of his fellow fraternity brother, none other than Park Jimin. He genuinely has no idea how long he’s been standing there.

Feeling high on some power trip, Taehyung flashes an amused smirk at the man on the other side of the door, shooting him a wink as he plows his hips against yours.

There’s a small part of Jimin’s subconscious that makes him believe he should walk away and pretend that this never happened. It feels wrong to spy on his best friend splitting your sweet cunt in half, but he can’t seem to look away. The longer he stares, the harder he gets.

Maybe it’s the boost of serotonin that Jimin gets from the sight of your tits. They’re bouncing from the force of Taehyung’s thrusts, and he can only imagine how they would feel beneath his palms. Perhaps it’s the sound of your dulcet voice, begging Taehyung to fuck you deeper, spank you harder, and love you louder.

Jimin has only ever dreamt about the sound of your moans, but now, he can hear them loud and clear from the other side of the door.

He wipes his eyes with the back of his hand. Perhaps this is a dream. Or maybe he’s a little too drunk at this point of the night.

But when he looks up again, he’s met with Taehyung’s darkened eyes. Jimin’s mouth goes dry, wishing that he could be there in place of his dear friend.

In all of his dreams, Jimin has never pictured you to like it so rough. You’ve always been so kind and so sweet, offering to clean the dishes among his dirty fraternity brothers. You’re so considerate to keep him company while he builds his Lego sets late into the evening.

You’re practically the face of innocence.

Now with this knowledge of you being a dirty, little whore, he can stow it away into the back of his mind, saving it for the dark and restless nights.

When Taehyung’s thumb meets your clit, you whimper his name. It’s raw, almost painful, coming from your scratchy throat.

“Say it again,” Taehyung demands, tapping the side of your face with his free hand before gliding it down to your neck. “Say my name again. If you want me to cum inside of you, beg.”

You cry out his name as your eyes roll back, his length prodding against your cervix, bruising the soft, spongy spot inside of you. Unintelligible murmurs spill from your lips. “I’ll do whatever you want. I just want your cum, I need it, please, please, please. Need you to fuck me full. I want your babies, daddy. You promised, remember?”

Something inside of Taehyung ignites whenever you call him daddy. “You need it? Need my cum? My babies?”

Taehyung picks up the pace, burying himself deep inside of you. His tone is mocking, and you fall apart to the sound of his voice. “What a needy fucking plaything.”

He pays no mind to the way you shudder beneath him, tears falling down your face. He continues to maneuver you into a different position, manhandling your body in a way that has you clenching around him even tighter, sheathing his cock deeper between your walls. He hooks his arm beneath the bend of your knees, lifting your legs over his shoulders until you curl beneath him.

You’re addicted to the way he fills you to the brim, splitting you in half. A ring of milky cream coats the base of his cock, revealing itself whenever he pulls out the slightest bit. It’s mixed with the saliva that he drops onto your mound, making the glide so effortless.

Had this been any other night, Taehyung would not let you off the hook this easily. Instead, he would humiliate you into begging. Your face would be pushed into the mattress while he makes a mess of your pussy. He would spill his load inside of you while prolonging your orgasm, only allowing you to come if you beg for it. But tonight, he’s being much too kind in the presence of his guest.

Taehyung brings his hand down, spanking the curve of your ass. “You’re mine, aren’t you?” He groans against your lips.

You shudder once again when he strikes your clit ー “This pussy is mine.” At this point, you would have thought you’d be used to it by now, but the impact continues to surprise you every time.

He gives a harsh thrust into your cunt, deep and rough. Rushed murmurs of “mine, mine, mine.” For good measure, he spits on your face and slaps your cheek. Kim Taehyung fully knows that you do belong to him, and he needs Jimin to know that.

Taehyung grabs your waist and flips you over so that you straddle his hips. He grips your jaw with a firm grasp, forcing your head toward the direction of the door. He doesn’t seem to forget about his dear friend. Because apparently, Park Jimin is as much of a pervert as you are.

When you lock eyes with Jimin on the other side, you clamp around Taehyung’s length.

He just knows that you love the attention.

Your legs tremble on either side of his waist, and you want to collapse into his chest to hide in embarrassment. Humiliation prickles your cheeks, but you know there’s nowhere to run.

As a reminder of his presence, Taehyung grips your waist. “Color?” All you have to do is say the word, and he’ll stop.

You’ve expressed your interest in exhibitionism before, yet Taehyung has always been the one to keep your relationship a dirty little secret. So it doesn’t come as a surprise when you nod your head in confirmation, cursing out the words, breathless. “Green.”

“‘Atta girl,” Taehyung groans, squeezing your hips. “Why don’t you show Jimin how you ride?” He suggests, clenching his jaw.

There’s an innate need to show Jimin what a pretty, desperate little toy that you are. So you bounce on your knees, fucking yourself onto Taehyung’s cock.

Jimin can’t keep his eyes off of you as your tits bounce on full display. His eyes scan your body up and down, taking note of the dress that bunches around your waist. It’s the same strawberry pattern that you wore to Sunday service the week prior.

He remembers how pretty you looked as you sat cross legged on the other side of the pew 一 when you had volunteered to pass around plates of food for the elders at the luncheon and when you had flashed him a gummy smile after pouring you a glass of orange juice. But now, the image of you in that same exact dress has tainted his memory.

Your hands rest on Taehyung’s chest as you grind your hips onto his. With each brush against your clit, you shudder, slowly losing your senses from the mind numbing pleasure.

Soon enough, you lose your rhythm, jagged and off-tempo. Your thrusts are much too shallow for Taehyung’s liking, your thighs burning. It’s pathetic. You’re pathetic. But you can’t help it when you’re a little too distracted by Jimin’s eyes boring into yours.

“You can do better than that,” Taehyung growls, landing a sharp slap against your ass. His fingers dig into your waist. Your flesh gives way to his grip, dimpling beneath the pressure.

“Tell Jimin how much you love being fucked like a whore.” Taehyung says, punctuating each syllable with a sharp thrust.

Because you are constantly under Taehyung’s spell, you do as you’re told, whining out Jimin’s name with tears in your eyes. “Minnie…” Taehyung grits his teeth, hating how close you are to all of his friends. At the end of the day, you’re his.

There’s no hesitation in your voice. “Love it so much 一 Love being Taehyung's slut. He fucks me so well, he’s ruined me for anyone else. I can’t- I can’t-” The sobs wrack through your body as the dirty words pool out of your mouth. “Please, Tae, I want to come so bad. I’ve been a good girl, please, please please- I promise I won’t act up anymore, I only want you.”

Taehyung has trouble believing your lies. You’ve been anything but a good girl all night. The images flash before his eyes 一 you drinking with Namjoon, leaning into Jimin’s touch, giggling with Jeongguk. Fuck, the way you came around his fingers when he flooded your pretty little head with thoughts of his friend claiming you in front of everyone like a needy whore 一 it sets a fire ablaze inside of him.

The only thing you’ve done that’s worthy of praise is making room for Taehyung’s fat cock inside of your slutty cunt.

Taehyung forces two fingers into your mouth, demanding you to suck. You swirl your tongue around his digits, making them nice and wet before he traces them down your spine. He circles the puckered rim of your ass before dipping right into your tight hole.

“Would you let Jimin fuck you here?” Taehyung asks, searching for the answer in your eyes. “You could probably come with him in your ass, no?”

Tears stream down your cheeks as you shake your head no.

“Don’t pretend like you haven’t done it before, love. I know you can come as long as your holes are filled,” he coos. “Wouldn’t it feel so much better if you had two dicks inside of you? Sweet girl, I know you can take it.”

You clench at the sound of his filthy words. Taehyung has never proposed a threesome before. He hardly talks to his fraternity brothers about you, whether it is out of privacy, jealousy, or embarrassment, you can never be sure.

Drool starts to drip out of your mouth and pride swells up inside of Taehyung’s heart.

He circles his arms around your waist, bringing you down to his chest. Digging his heels into the mattress, he bends his knees to thrust into you at a merciless pace. His perfect tempo hits your soft, spongy center with such precision. The head of his cock grazes against your g spot with every stroke, and you whine into his neck.

Your eyes are threatening to close, and you find it difficult to catch your breath.

Taehyung murmurs against your skin, reminding you to breathe. Upon hearing his calm voice, your chest heaves against his.

“Come with me, come with me,” he demands, his voice breathy. “Show him that you’re mine.”

With a few deep thrusts, you come on Taehyung’s cock, pulsing around his length. You clench around him so tight as though you never want him to leave. The sound of Taehyung’s moans are muffled by the blood rushing to your head. All you can hear is the thrum of your pulse, pounding against your ear drums.

Taehyung’s hips still against yours as he grabs your waist, trying to find a semblance of self-control. He spills into your cunt with thick spurts of white, hot cum, filling you to the brim. It pours out from between your walls, coating the side of his length.

Your breath is labored as you collapse into his chest, much too weak to hold yourself up any longer.

When you look over at Jimin, there’s a dark, wet spot over the crotch of his pants. A small whimper escapes from his parted lips, his eyes screwed shut.

If you did not have a modicum of rationality in your post orgasmic haze, you would think that Taehyung would offer to invite him inside. But as you’ve come to learn, Taehyung is not a fan of sharing what’s his.

So when the show is over, Jimin is quick to step into the bathroom where he can touch himself to the fresh visual of you in your strawberry print dress. Perhaps he can conjure up the image of you on your knees, wrapping your pretty lips around his throbbing cock. He would die a happy man if he could paint your perfect tits with his cum. But for now, he’ll have to settle with the glide of his hand, imagining that it’s your tight walls sucking him into the warmth of your cunt.

And once Jimin cleans himself up, he’ll be on his merry way to tell his dear friends about the best thing he has ever witnessed in his entire life. He’d be $20 richer after Seokjin coughs up the money he bet on your relationship. And maybe Jeongguk will finally come to terms with his feelings before he loses you completely.

Surely, when all is said and done, Taehyung has cleaned up the mess that he’s made, making sure that you’re happy and well taken care of. He kisses your lips and rubs your back, taking his time to clean you up.

He’s extra gentle when he wipes a wet cloth against your swollen pussy. It’s far too sore after the rough pounding that he had put you through. Possibly bruised and broken, at least that’s how your body feels, yet you wouldn’t be opposed if he suggested another round after you’ve recuperated because you’re simply insatiable.

Yet that moment never comes because the two of you tuck yourselves beneath the covers, making small talk until the morning rises.

You never mention Namjoon nor Jimin. And you definitely wouldn’t dare to utter Jeongguk’s name. With sleepy thoughts and heavy eyelids, you simply let the night cut into the day.

The morning light filters through the curtains, casting a beam across the thin film of your eyes. You’ve been awake for the last hour, keeping yourself occupied by counting the beauty marks that scatter across Taehyung’s face. You’ve done it a million times before. You could probably point them out in the dark, completely blind.

“Creep,” he mutters under his breath when he catches you staring.

A chuckle vibrates through your chest as you playfully push his shoulders. He rolls onto his side, facing the wall, but you cage him in your arms, wrapping them around his waist, molding your body to his. Your laugh tickles the nape of his neck.

Taehyung tries his best to ignore the lingering scent of your perfume on his bed sheets. He doesn’t want to acknowledge the right side of his bed where there’s a dip in the mattress ー the same shape as you.

He won’t even bring up your awful bedhead because he thinks it’s funny. He likes how he’s the only one who gets to see you like this. You’re at your prettiest when you’re beneath him, but also beside him.

Yet if he were to speak of this out loud, it would mean that all of this is his ー that he has something worth losing.

“How about I make some pancakes?” You offer, wiping the exhaustion from your eyes with the back of your hand.

Taehyung shifts in your embrace. He strains his neck to gauge your expression. “Pancakes?”

“Yeah, you got any strawberries?” They’re his favorite. He may have mentioned it once or twice in passing between soft kisses and sleepy yawns. Something about it being a reminder of his grandfather’s farm in Daegu. “Thought I saw some in the fridge the other day.”

“Don’t you have class soon?” Taehyung wonders out loud. He already knows the answer. He has your schedule memorized. How could he not?

“I could be late,” you shrug. “Remember what I told you about Professor Lee? He’s boring anyways.”

On any other day, Taehyung would have said yes without a second thought. But the fact that you’re willing to skip class doesn’t sit right with him. Suffering through medical philosophy 301 might not be that important to you, but… would you honestly prefer to spend your time making strawberry pancakes?

Taehyung clears his throat. “Before I say yes, can I ask you something?”

The air is thick.

There’s hesitation in your response, but you nod nevertheless. “What is it?”

“Are these just pancakes, or… is it something else?”

You part your lips, ready to respond, but the words are stuck in your throat. The answer should have been “just pancakes,” yet you’re certain that it’s more than that.

Perhaps it’s the casual intimacy or the domesticity. Maybe it’s an extra 30 minutes spent with the guy you’re half in love with. Is that too much? Are you too much?

“It’s whatever you want it to be.” You decide to play it safe as if you don’t want to die on the inside. As if his answer won’t have your organs collapsing on itself.

How the hell is Taehyung supposed to tell you that he wants more than just breakfast and half an hour of your time. He wants all of it and more, but it’s selfish to ask for that. You deserve the world, but he can’t give you what you need.

Time and time again, Taehyung has said that this is just casual. No strings attached. But how could he let it get this far?

There’s an adoring look in your eye that triggers his fight or flight response. He’s scared.

“I think… I just want pancakes.” There’s a dull ache in his heart and a voice that’s screaming in the back of his head. “But maybe next time. You should go to class.”

Little do you know, it took a hell of a lot of courage to say anything but “Please have me. Please hold me. I’m sorry.”

You try to push down the sting of his rejection as if it isn’t a reflection of the love that you deserve. “Okay, so I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah, maybe.” Taehyung curls onto his side of the bed, retreating into himself. The heat of his body escapes yours. His responses shrink, reduced to nothing but an “I don’t know.”

You contemplate his cold tone and decide not to push any further. Yet you’re certain that you’ll keep yourself awake in the dead of the night by finding meaning in his silence.

For Taehyung, it hurts knowing that he can’t be the man for you. When his efforts fall short of what you deserve, he has a feeling that you’ll slip through his fingers once again. Would that hurt more than pushing you away?

When Taehyung asks you if you need a ride back to your place, a vile feeling bubbles up in the pit of your stomach. You can’t quite explain what it is. Anger? Hatred? Animosity? The truth is, you could never hate Kim Taehyung. Not for all the dreams you’ve shared. Not for all the wasted time. Not for the things he never said.

Taehyung thinks a ride is the best he could do if he can’t offer himself to you. If he can’t be your boyfriend.

You simply decline. “I think I wanna walk,” you mutter. Perhaps a little bit of fresh air is exactly what you need. Some time and space to clear your head and just think.

You hum, flashing him a smile that isn’t much of a smile at all. It doesn’t sit right on your face, Taehyung thinks. It doesn’t reach your eyes the way he’s accustomed to ー like when you ace your physiology exam, when two bags of chips fall out of the vending machine, or when you wave hello to a stray cat from across the street. Even if Taehyung notices the ill-fitting smile on your face, he doesn’t seem to mention it.

So you slip out the door without another word, falling apart in the usual way.

It’s chilly in the hallway outside of Taehyung’s room. You shiver at the feeling.

From the back of your pocket, you pull out your phone, drafting a text to Taehyung: “It’s cold out. You should wear a jacket.”

You contemplate hitting send, but before you can decide against it, a familiar voice brings you to a halt.

“Hey, Y/N, morning!” The sweet lull of Jeongguk’s voice resonates through your eardrums. He’s always awake early in the morning, but perhaps he never went to bed to begin with.

His hair is messy. Disheveled. He has a crumb of toast that sits pretty on the corner of his lips, and you don’t hesitate to dust it off. He flashes a warm smile at you, thankful for the action.

As he often does, you think that he might offer a ride to prevent the walk of shame. If you ever decline, he’ll just nod his head, shrug on a jacket, and walk by your side to the foot of your apartment building. In spite of Jeongguk’s frat boy status, he may be the only decent member of the fraternity.

But this time, you don’t decline. You tuck your head between your shoulders as you shrug. An “okay” slips from your lips, followed by a “thank you.”

Maybe you could use a friend. Maybe you could have more than that.

There’s a set of keys in one of Jeongguk’s hands and a knit scarf in the other. He wraps it around your neck so that you can brave the cold, fifteen steps to his car at the end of the driveway.

But as he fixes your bedhead, pulling your hair to the side, careful to not get it caught beneath the fabric of his scarf, he chimes with yet another question.

“Are you and Taehyung serious by the way?”

You shake your head no. “No, not at all,” you murmur, sullen.

There’s a hopeful smile that affixes itself onto his lips. “What would you say if I asked you out on a date?”

#taehyung smut #taehyung angst #bts smut #bts angst #taehyung x reader #taehyung imagine #taehyung scenario #bts scenario #bts imagine #taehyung #kim taehyung #bts fan fic #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts fan fiction

2K notes · View notes

yoonieper · 2 months ago

Text

For the Birds— Part 5 | JJK

I want you to stay even though you don’t want me.

♡ Pairing: Jungkook x Reader (feat. Yuri)

♡ Genre: angst, smut, future fluff!, this chapter is pretty much pWITHp (can be read alone)~

♡ Rated: T for Tension

♡ Chapter Warnings: spicyyyy, Jk is a bit of a dick, Y/n stands up for herself, major tension, emotions are flowing, slightly subby Jungkook makes a bit of an appearance, thigh riding (m ;D), masturbation (f), public(ish) sex, hand job, protected sex (be smart friends <3)

♡ Word Count: 17.5k

♡ Summary: As the son of the CEO at Golden Tech, a marriage was arranged in the name of business. Jungkook really tried to make the most of his situation and be the best husband he could be, but no matter how much he tried, his wife just doesn’t seem to want him. Then you… you came into his life and his eyes couldn’t help but wander.

♡ Now Playing: Somebody Else by Maxine Ashley— see masterlist for playlist!

♡ Beta: Thank you so much to @mellowladyanchor for reading this part for me! If you’re interested in betaing a future part, dm me! If you're interested in becoming a permanent beta for this series please first click here and refer to 'details about the job' section for more details and dm for any questions you might have! Betas get early access to chapters, so if you're free to help out and can't wait for next chapter, consider joining the team!!!

♡ Author’s Note: Sorry for the delay friends! The end of last month was a bit hectic for me and then I got sick delaying me even more :') This might happen a lot more often where the schedule I have on the masterlist might diverge from when I can actually get the chapter out because college has started for me once again, so things in my life might get in the way a little more often of editing and ultimately publishing 😭 Thank you all so much for waiting, your patience, and I hope you all enjoy this different type of chapter :D Anyway, this is The Office Sexcapades Part 1 ;)

No reposting, modifying. Translating is not allowed unless given explicit permission. Thank you so much : D

previous chapter « main masterlist ✩ series masterlist » coming 9/15

After you and Jungkook parted ways, you thought things had finally changed between you two. Maybe not entirely, but you wanted to believe you had turned over a new leaf in your relationship. You thought you had extinguished, or at least simmered, the animosity you felt for each other and something strange but new had started to take its place. You honestly didn’t mind it.

You had left the storage room with a dopey smile plastered on your face and a weird pep in your step as you made your way back to your desk. The man you hated only a month ago had managed to send you to another dimension and you still hadn’t come back yet. You felt high in the best way possible and there was some part of you that didn’t want to leave his side when you both agreed you probably had been gone too long. You even gave him a hug before you left the room, Jungkook mumbling a sweet “thank you” into your hair before you pulled away to leave.

It was all still a bit weird, but you wanted to think that this was all the confirmation you needed that things had truly changed between you two. Was it complicated? Yes, this shift was the result of an affair, which wasn’t a solid foundation whatsoever, but the change in your relationship wasn’t entirely bad. At least you didn’t hate each other anymore.

However, you were in for a shock when you came into work on Monday.

THUNK

The first thing you were greeted with was Director Son being back (yay!). However, before you could even process his return, he was setting a mountain of paperwork on your desk. The size of the stack was far beyond a reasonable workload. It was so tall, even your coworkers could easily see it through the window of your office without needing to crane their necks over their computer screens.

After you paid your respects and welcomed Director Son back, you finally asked what the pile of paperwork on your desk was all about because it just had to be a joke or a prank. You were ready for someone to jump out with a phone in hand laughing hysterically at the face you made that was now recorded for everyone to see.

“Beats me, I just got back today. All I know is that it comes straight from Director Jeon,” he had sighed in sympathy. You scanned the faces of the rest of the team who were standing outside your office. No one was stifling a laugh, trying their absolute hardest to make this as believable as possible. Instead, they sent you worried glances and sympathetic looks as they quietly gasped at the outrageous amount of paperwork.

When Taehyung arrived at the office, he came up to you during the chaos of it all. “Woah? What did you do to piss him off this time?” He chuckled lightly, but you could hear the undertone of concern.

For a second, you tried to rack your brain to see if you could remember if Jungkook had mentioned he would be sending you a lot of work on Monday, anything he said that could have possibly rationalized this. You came up with nothing.

The details from Friday had been ingrained into your memory at the highest definition. You were practically still experiencing it first hand— every sight, sound, touch, and taste from that day. The chance of you forgetting him telling you about a workload of this magnitude was next to none. The moments you spent with him especially were vibrant; the clarity was irrefutably against the possibility of it simply having slipped your mind. At no point on Friday had he mentioned anything to you about work, or even sent you a text over the weekend to let you know what you’d find on your desk on Monday. He’d completely blindsided you.

Knowing Jeon Jungkook, there was only one reason he would assign you this much work without warning. Mr. Jeon Jungkook, Head Director Jeon, Director Jeon, or what he had urged you to call him so casually, Jungkook, was pissed off, and there was no doubt in your mind that his anger was directed at you.

As Taehyung waited for your answer, you had to stop yourself from instantly bursting into tears. It was not just because you knew you would be stuck at the office all night because of how much work you had to do, but also because after everything you shared together, he was suddenly being a dick to you… again?

Why? What could you have possibly done to him to make him hate you again with so much vigor that he would assign you this mountain of paperwork in the middle of the chaos of Q4? Had Friday meant nothing after all? Were you just another hole he used to take out his sexual frustration from his marriage? Had those sad, round, sweet eyes and pleas been nothing but a lure to get you to agree to the affair? In any normal situation, you would have never gone along with it in a billion years. Maybe he had seen right through your guise and did whatever was necessary to get his dick wet. Maybe he was through with you, the allure was gone, the fantasy was broken, and he wanted nothing more than to punish you for your stupidity and believing his silly act. Or maybe it wasn’t so complicated. Maybe it was simply your fault for thinking things had changed between you two.

You had to resist marching straight to his office to give him a piece of your mind, but you didn’t have the energy, time, or desire to create a scene. Instead, you took a few deep breaths, headed to the bathroom to quickly dry your watery eyes, and marched out ready to tackle the workload.

It took you all night and well into the early morning hours to get everything done. It was tedious, detailed, and you knew Jungkook purposely gave it to you in paper form to make it that much more challenging to complete. In your peripheral vision throughout the night, you saw your coworkers say their goodbyes before leaving for their lives outside the office. You even saw Jungkook himself, normally someone who stayed far beyond a reasonable time, pass by and head down the hall to the elevators before you were even halfway done.

The office had turned dark and your eyes were strained from staring at your computer screen and the tiny font on the papers for far too long, but you saw him. You heard the sound of his fancy dress shoes clicking against the tile first, and even though you tried not to look up, you noticed him pass by through the window. You heard his pace slow down, probably just wanting to see you and relish in your suffering. You felt his eyes linger on your form, but you didn’t dare make eye contact. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. You kept your eyes on your work as his footsteps faded into the distance. You truly felt done with him.

Over the next few days, Jungkook would hardly look at you during the rare occasions you’d be near each other. It wasn’t like you had grown close anyway, but whenever you were in the same room you’d normally make a little small talk to ease the tension. But now Jungkook wouldn’t even spare a glance in your direction. He was avoiding you like the plague, so you did the same.

Also, even though it wasn’t as much as Monday, Jungkook kept choosing to be a dick to you and personally assigned you more work than reasonable every day. You had no time to confront him, but you didn’t want to anyway. For whatever reason, he wanted to be mean and avoid you instead of having some type of adult conversation. You couldn’t deal with people like that. It made it easy to want nothing more than to forget Jeon Jungkook even existed.

Maybe you really had been fooled. Jungkook had played you for the sap you were and manipulated you into sleeping with him. But as angry as you were, you couldn't find yourself able to believe that. Even though you were avoiding him, you still paid close attention anytime you were in the same room. The dark cloud continuously storming over him that you had noticed before raged with even more ferocity, still following him around no matter where he was or who he was with. The blank look behind his eyes grew worse with each day that passed. You were honestly confused how no one else had noticed.

Things hadn’t changed. If anything, they might have only gotten worse than before. You tried your best to restrain your emotions instead of immediately believing the first theory your mind conjured up. Maybe you just wanted to believe that he hadn’t used you, but you truly wanted to hope there had been more to Jungkook’s vulnerability than just a front he used to get to you.

It took a while, but eventually you settled on the most likely outcome and assumed that he was taking whatever feelings he had about the affair out on you for some reason. You had no idea why you had to suffer for a choice he made twice despite your warnings, but it just proved to you that at the end of the day, he really was a dick.

Whatever the reason, you really just didn’t want to deal with him anymore. What happened happened. It was in the past, you couldn’t take it back now, and he had to realize that. You didn’t mind pretending nothing happened because right now you just wanted to forget it all— forget Jeon Jungkook, forget last week, and honestly, fuck him.

•────•──────────•────•

Jungkook was a horrible person. The certainty of that truth became painfully obvious as the days passed. He knew how he was treating you wasn’t right, yet he was still awful to you anyway. He just couldn’t be any more pathetic.

Ironically, Jungkook wasn’t even mad at you. Far from it actually— he wanted you so much that it was the very thought of you that pissed him off far beyond a concerning degree. He made an executive decision that despite what he said to you in his office, he needed to listen to his conscience and stop the affair before things got worse. How was he ever going to make things right with Yuri if he was sleeping with you? It didn’t make any sense and he knew that. He knew he needed to end this here and now. After you left, Jungkook had sat in the darkness of the storage room crying over the thought that he was making things worse for him and Yuri and he was a terrible husband. But despite everything, he still couldn’t bring himself to regret doing it. He was just awful, horrible, and truly pathetic.

Jungkook was so eager to fix things with Yuri, but when has an affair ever been the answer or led to anything good? How was he ever going to repair their relationship if he was spending his time fucking you on the side? He would just look like the biggest hypocrite of the century.

Jungkook didn’t hate you per se, but he hated the failure that you represented. It was cruel, he was cruel, after everything you did for him, to repay you with an unreasonable amount of work in an already busy time. It just wasn’t fair to you. You probably hated him now. And he almost wanted that to be true. It was just another way to ensure he would stay away from you and get back to what should be his priority: the marriage he was fucking up.

Jungkook had hoped it would be easy to move on if he kept you away. The stars even aligned to allow him the opportunity to focus on his wife and put the affair in the past. Yuri had come home early one evening when Jungkook had happened to be home as well. They talked and even shared a meal by candlelight together that their chef had prepared. Sure, things were a little awkward and they only really spoke about work. Anytime Jungkook tried to bring up another topic, Yuri seemed disinterested. However, they did briefly discuss the upcoming annual holiday celebration that their families always held together and shared which of their favorite dishes they were looking forward to having, which was nice.

It was good, though. At the very least, she was tolerating his presence, and that was better than the disdain she usually had in her eyes whenever she looked at him.

Jungkook went to bed in better spirits than he had been over the past few days. He was able to easily fall asleep, though he would have preferred doing so with Yuri in his arms. He knew not to try it and ruin their good evening. He slept through the night and would have likely missed his alarm if Yuri hadn’t woken him up. His tired eyes strained to see her straddled over his lap. The sun had barely come up, but he could see the look in her eyes as she stared down at him. It made him hot in an instant.

“Touch me.” She had whispered right in his ear. It was a command, one that ignited a flame all too quickly. He felt wanted, maybe even needed, as he hastily flipped her onto her back while he began eating her out.

He was truly a horrible person. The whole time he pleasured Yuri, all he could think about was you in the storage room. The way you gripped his hair and all the pretty sounds you made with each swipe of his tongue. He missed you…

But Yuri was also so pretty, she always was, and when he finally brought her over the edge, his cock pleaded for her in his shorts. It had been so long, but he knew better than to push it. And he was right as always. The minute he got off her, she went to shower and he left him stuck alone in their room.

He missed the way you pulled him close after you finished. How you reached into his pants, touched him, and pleaded for more. He missed how you felt around him, how you held him in your arms while he cried. He really missed you. Jungkook had to fight every urge in his body to stop himself from reaching into his shorts for relief.

He wanted to be good for Yuri. He had to be. He kept telling himself that, but like the hypocrite he was, he finally went to the store to pick up condoms on his way to work. It wasn’t because he was preparing for when Yuri would let him go all the way, no, they were for you. He put them in one of his drawers in his desk, hidden underneath some papers, but not too out of reach in case of emergency. You probably didn’t want anything to do with him anymore, but he got the condoms anyway.

As much as Jungkook had tried to push you away, he never stopped wanting you. Each time you’d pass each other, which was rare because he made sure to avoid you, you grabbed his attention. He thought his feelings would pass, but as the days went by, they only got more intense. His body ached to have you all over again, and as much as he wanted to tough it out, wait for Yuri, and hopefully put the affair behind him, he was weak. So weak, that despite all of his intentions, he texted you to meet him at the storage room again with the emoji you had both discussed beforehand.

Jungkook [1:32pm]: 📦 3:15

He’d been shy about it. He spent days fighting between his urge to text you and to also resist the temptation and focus on Yuri. Like she always said though, he was weak, and ultimately caved despite his efforts.

He worried he would come off as needy and desperate, especially because of how he’d treated you, but it wasn’t far from the truth. What if he was texting too soon? What was too soon? You probably hated him, what was he thinking?!

He didn’t think you’d show up. Part of him didn’t want you to, hoping his efforts had paid off and you were done with him. But the other half of him was relieved when he heard your two knocks followed by another two knocks.

A wave of guilt hit him the minute he opened the door and saw you looked less than pleased to see him. He knew he deserved it. He deserved you never even looking in his direction again, but somehow here you were. You hadn’t deserved any of his anger. Your presence both infuriated him and calmed his spiked nerves. It wasn’t fair to you. He was cruel.

“What?” You barked. You were mad. You had every right to be.

Jungkook felt the tears start welling up in his eyes at his conflicted emotions. He felt bad, despite his resentment of you. He truly felt bad because he knew you didn’t deserve his anger. It was he who begged to have you again despite all his concerns. This situation you both found yourself in now was all his fault.

“Did you just bring me here to give me more work? I don’t have much time thanks to you.” You were angry, but he could still hear the hurt in your voice. He hurt you. He couldn’t stop hurting anyone who got near him…

Jungkook just stared at you with an almost dazed expression. He seemed out of it, even more so than normal. Maybe any other day you would have actually been concerned, but you didn’t want to see him, not now, or really ever again. You just came because apparently he was finally willing to speak to you again, so you thought it would be the perfect time to end whatever was happening between you two. Not that anything really even had begun in the first place. It should have ended after the first time. It should have never even started. This was a huge mistake that you knew would follow you for the rest of your lifetime.

He didn’t say anything back, just continued to stare at you. You couldn’t see him very well, but you were getting tired of his silence. Part of you thought agreeing to his request to meet would give you some concrete answers as to why he might be upset at you. What could you have possibly done to make him so mad when you hadn’t spoken since the last time you were in this room together? It seemed all he wanted to do was stare at you in confusion, and you really didn’t have time for that.

“Director Jeo— Jungkook, look, I don’t really want to be around you, so if you don’t have anything to say then—” You were ready to turn around, leave, and be done with this situation, done with him, but of course just as you were reaching for the door, you felt a hand on your wrist stopping you in your tracks.

“Don’t— Don’t you see how hard I’m trying to do that?!” His voice was shaky, but you could still hear the agitation. You finally turned around and at this angle you could see the shininess in his eyes.

Jungkook suddenly had your back against the wall, his arms by your side, effectively caging you in. However, he maintained enough distance between you two to stop short of being intimidating. If you wanted to, you could easily push past him.

“I’m trying to keep you as far away as possible, but you’re making it so—,” he buried his head in your shoulder, “—so fucking hard.” There was a bite to his words, an edge that told you he really was angry with you.

Fuck him.

“I want to be a good husband— I want to be good to my wife. I don’t want to betray her any more than I already have, but—” One of his hands came down to settle on your waist. So softly, he was always so gentle. You hated the way your body tingled at his touch.

“You’re making this so hard—” It felt wrong, but having you in front of him felt right all at the same time. He needed you, painfully so.

“Look at me.” Your words were harsh as you roughly grabbed his hair and pulled him off of your shoulder. Jungkook was certainly not prepared for your aggression, and how it embarrassingly went straight to his achy length. His cheeks burned as he stared down at you.

“I get you have shit going on, but what you’re not going to do is have the issues in your life interfere with my career. You’re making my life hell, and do you know how that makes me look in front of my team?” You finally released all the pent-up rage you’ve felt through the years working for him and you enjoyed the shocked look on his face as he processed your words. He needed to hear them.

“And you have the nerve to call me back in here after the bullshit you’ve put me through? You made me think things had changed, but you’re still just as petty as you’ve always been. You’re actually ridiculous.” Your anger was justified, so justified that Jungkook was tempted to just break down and cry. You were right and even worse, it was pathetic how he started to feel the strain of his pants growing tighter at the same time. Just a sad, sad human being.

Your hand then rose, and Jungkook watched as you sadistically toyed with the collar of his shirt before running your fingers down the line of his buttons, playing and pulling them lightly. Your finger finally made it to where he had his shirt tucked into his pants, then to his belt buckle, and then you suddenly cupped his growing bulge.

“Fuck!” He was way too loud, but he truly wasn’t expecting that. Tears immediately fell from his eyes, a chaotic storm of emotions swirled around in his head. He felt guilty, he was also frustrated, but more than anything, he just wanted you to touch him. As embarrassing and shameful as it was, he rocked into your hand, wanting more friction so badly. Your grip tightened, squeezing him so he felt your anger in the most pleasurable sense possible, along with the pain he more than deserved.

“I’m sorry!” he cried, tears slipping down his cheeks.

“Don’t apologize. You know you meant what you did. If you want this to continue, you’re not going to pull that shit and try and act like nothing happened. You’re the one who begged for my help. If you’re done with this, just fucking say it. Got it?” you spat. Gone was the unconditional sweetness you’d shown him until this point despite how horribly he had treated you over the years. He had almost thought it wasn’t possible to make you mad, how it was the only way you tolerated him at all, but that clearly wasn’t the case. He fucked up and he took in every word you spat at him.

Jungkook hurriedly nodded.

“As for this…” You squeezed him once again, making Jungkook silently cry out. He wasn’t sure if it was out of pleasure or pain at this point. “If you want to get off so badly, you’re going to have to work for it.” You eventually said, moving your hand away, making Jungkook whine at the loss of contact.

You then propped your leg up against the wall and pulled him a little closer by his waist so he was gliding right across your thigh. Jungkook moaned at the sensation and pushed you further into the wall. He was embarrassed how easily you riled him up and his cheeks burned at the intimate position. What were you doing?

“Y/n…” he groaned, confused as to what this was, but you were quick to guide him. Your hands returned to his waist and you pulled him forward before pushing him back and bringing him closer again.

Oh.

It was an odd position, but one you quickly figured out he didn’t hate. You wished you could see his expression better, but the darkness didn’t hide everything. With your hands as a guide, you pushed and pulled him in a steady rhythm. His rugged breathing grew more labored and the whines he tried his best to suppress grew more pained and filled with need.

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” you chuckled darkly.

“What are you doing— oh!” he hurried out, but was cut off by a groan as you started to speed up the pace a little.

“Mmm, you know exactly what I’m doing. You loved getting off on my thigh when we were together before. Isn’t this what you wanted after all? Isn’t that the only reason you called me in here?” If you could see his face, you would have seen how badly his cheeks were burning. His eyes were watery all over again at the accusation and the compromising position.

It was true; it was all true. He didn’t bring you here to apologize. That would be a lie. Even though he knew how wrong it was, he still wasn’t sorry. He needed to push you away, he just had to, because if not—

“Oh!” You sped up the pace just a little more and a moan embarrassingly slipped from his lips at the change. He was so weak.

“Say it. Why did you ask me to come here?” You had to repeat your question to let him know that it wasn’t rhetorical. You wanted an answer.

He stumbled like it was a hard question to answer, but he knew the answer exactly. It was just the shame of it all that made it hard to tell you.

“Say it or I’ll leave,” you almost cooed, teasing as you lifted your thigh up a little further, making him cry out. You knew what you were doing. He wanted you so badly, he didn’t want you to go.

“I bought condoms— I have one in my back pocket,” He hurried out even faster— embarrassed, ashamed, and mortified at how it looked. But there was no further elaboration needed. He only brought you here to use them. He was horrible, selfish… the list went on, really.

You chuckled lightly to yourself. “Thank you for being honest, but not today—”

“But—” Jungkook rushed out, and pushed into your thigh a little faster all on his own. He didn’t want you to leave, he really didn’t.

“But nothing. Like I said, if you want anything you’re going to have to get yourself off just like this. You wanted to be mean, so we’re not fucking today and I’m not letting you touch me. This is the most you’re getting, so take it or leave it.”

The familiar hostility was different with you than it was with Yuri. He’d found himself in this same situation more often than not, but with Yuri, it came with an overwhelming dread that he wasn’t good enough for her. But with you… Maybe he had issues— no, he definitely did— but all he could focus on was that you had given him a way out. You didn’t curse his very existence and tell him to stay as far away from him as possible. You didn’t scream or yell. You were calm and slightly sultry in the way you spoke. You were mad at him, just like Yuri had been, but he didn’t understand why you didn’t scream at him too. You had more than every reason to. Your punishment was cruel, but it was far kinder than what he deserved.

It didn’t make sense, but in the haze of it all, all he could focus on was his desire to have you. For once, he didn’t want to think. He was always in his head too much these days.

Jungkook didn’t realize you were expecting an answer, but you didn’t need one as he responded by hurrying his pace across your thigh, a light moan falling from his lips as he finally relaxed and let go.

“Please—” he groaned into your shoulder. “I’ll take anything.” It was desperate and sad, more than sad, but he didn’t have the energy anymore to even try and pretend he wasn’t at his wits end.

Jungkook didn’t see the way that you smiled at his words. Instead, all he felt was the way you gently pulled him off of your shoulder and lightly pressed a kiss on his damp cheek. The affection made him whine, wanting to meet your lips more than anything, to drown in you like he had been thinking of doing ever since you left the storage room last time. But you gave him no such relief as you pulled away and slowly lowered your thigh down.

Jungkook felt like he was seconds away from crying. He had agreed to play your game, so why were you pulling away? It didn’t make any sense, and as soon as you moved away he felt himself start to lose it at the thought of needing to take care of the problem you had caused all on his own.

However, that wasn’t your plan. Instead, in the darkness, you brought your hand up to gently tuck his hair behind his ears. You wanted to see him better. Even if you were furious with him, he was still such a pretty boy.

Jungkook wasn’t touched much, that much was obvious, so a gesture so soft went straight down to his pleading cock that was already straining in his pants. He pushed you further into the wall, his hands on your waist eager to feel and touch you. He wanted to fuck you just like this, against the wall, as you stared into each other’s eyes. The sounds he knew you would make, he wanted you—

“Mmmm, don’t get too eager,” you quickly reminded him.

“I’ll be good.” He had to be.

“You better be. Just because I’m letting you do this doesn’t mean I’m not still mad at you.” Your voice was soft and calm, almost infuriatingly so.

“Likewise.” His tone was pained, but gritty and challenging, as if you didn’t hold all the power in the situation and could easily walk away whenever you pleased. But he was being honest— he was mad, just maybe not directly at you. But seeing you lit a fire underneath him so hot that just being here with you could melt him in seconds. Nothing about your effect on him had changed or would change. Maybe he’d eventually grow stronger to resist you again like he had over the last few years, but right now he was spiraling and he knew that. Just for a second, he wanted relief.

You definitely weren’t expecting the attitude, but you had said you didn’t want him to lie. You tried your best to ignore the way your heart reacted knowing without a doubt now that he was mad at you. Did you feel hurt? Pain? Maybe something else entirely?

Whatever it was, you did your best not to show it and the darkness of the storage room offered further aid to conceal your wavering emotions. If he wanted to be like that, so could you.

Instead of responding with something sassy, you grabbed his hand and squinting your way through the darkness, you were able to guide him over to a table— the same table he snatched your soul on nearly a week ago. How things had changed so quickly, or rather, maybe nothing had changed at all. You could just see everything for what it was now.

You hopped up on the table and before Jungkook could question it, you pulled him close so he was nestled between your legs and the distance between you almost disappeared. You lightly ran your hands down his sides, basking in his soft sighs as your hands settled on his waist.

“And what could I have possibly done to you to make you so upset at me?” you chuckled darkly. You knew the answer, but you just wanted to hear him say it.

You didn’t hesitate to move him so he was straddled over your thigh. It was ironic really, his words said one thing but he was so quick to submit to you. Jungkook groaned, not even needing your help to get things started as he steadily moved himself across your thigh.

The darkness didn’t help whatsoever with seeing what you knew would be such a glorious sight, but with the light peeking in from underneath the door, you could still make out the faint outline of his sharp features and his disgruntled expression. Your admiration was interrupted when you suddenly felt his hand lightly cup your cheek and he brought you close to rest his forehead against yours.

“You exist.”

You could barely hear him. It was so delicate, hardly over a whisper, but the way his voice wavered made his pain obvious. Deep down, you knew that probably wasn’t a lie or an exaggeration to get under your skin. It was clear he meant what he said, but instead of storming out like you probably should have, a wave of conflicting emotions hit you all at once and kept you in your place.

It quickly made you remember the very reason you found yourself in this position in the first place. Jungkook wasn’t ok, and whatever he was battling with was eating him up inside and clearly winning. It was awful to watch and you couldn’t imagine what he must be going through. As hurtful as his words sounded, you found you couldn’t pull away from his soft touch.

You let him kiss you. You had no desire to stop him anyway. He did it so well. His kisses reminded you of a fire— at times a fireplace you would sit and enjoy with a good book, and other times it was ash, the aftermath of a warzone when all that was left was destruction. This time, however, the fire was a blazing fury of passion, still burning brightly, but the aftermath seemed inevitable. While it was clear he wasn’t nearly as mad at you as you were at him, you could feel the anger he kept subdued in the way he hurriedly pulled you close. If the situation had been different, you would have thought it was a little hot.

You finally snapped yourself out of your daze and pulled away.

“What did I say about touching?” you reminded him, and it was almost startling how quickly he dropped his hand.

“Sorry— I’ll be good—” he mumbled as his attention turned from your face down to where your bodies met. Jungkook’s face burned. As much as his body was pleading for more, he couldn’t deny he somewhat enjoyed this punishment. The position was a little embarrassing, but as your hands started pulling and pushing him, he couldn’t say he hated the way you were handling him. It reminded him of the times that Yuri would sit in his lap and pin him down. A punishment that only made the ache worse in every possible way. Just the thought of it made Jungkook chase a little faster into the feeling of it all and pull you a little closer.

“Oh— fuck.” Jungkook practically whined at the quickening pace. The friction was good and he really didn’t need much of it to get off. Yuri had given him less in the past and he had made it work. It didn’t take very long for him to become putty in your hands. He had already been on edge before you even got here, so now—

“Y/n, please— can I— fuck—” Jungkook was struggling. He needed to be good, but he also wanted more. This position made him think back to the last time you both were in this storage room, how good it felt to be inside you— how good it would feel to do it again. It was painful how much he wanted to.

Somehow, you were able to understand his pleas. “I told you this is all you’re getting.” You were stern, but not in the same way Yuri would have been. As angry as he was at the situation, his punishment was deserved— in fact, he deserved worse. The fact you were letting him do anything at all was a testament to how kind and forgiving you were. The realization just made him feel even worse. And he couldn’t stop begging for more…

“I’m sorry.”

Jungkook was quiet after that, instead doing his best to silently get as far as he could. The whole situation made his insides feel like a flurry of butterflies, which had more than a small effect on his cock. Wound up from Yuri’s lack of affection, wound up from thinking of you despite how hard he tried not to, and wound up from the sweet, sweet pleasure from your thigh— it was enough to quickly turn him into a mess. You seemed to notice that he was starting to struggle.

You stopped helping him, instead letting your hands fall behind you as you watched him struggle in the dark. Maybe he’d grown tired, or maybe he was too caught up in thinking about what it felt like to be inside you, but he just needed more.

“Fuck, I don’t think I can… I’m close, but— Y/n, please—” he cried, his eyes watery. It wasn’t enough and he was honestly terrified you’d leave him at any moment. He knew Yuri would have by now. She always hated his begging and you probably did too. You probably hated him completely. He was pathetic.

Before he could embarrass himself any further, you took it upon yourself to put him out of his misery. You brought his face closer, pressing a languid kiss right on his lips. It was messy— Jungkook being so eager at the slightest touch, but it was nice. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, you were enjoying seeing him like this a little too much. So eager that he’d do anything, even ride your thigh, for the opportunity to get off. It was cute, and saying it was a little hot as well would be an understatement.

As your kisses trailed down his neck, you bathed in his soft sighs of pleasure and tiny moans and pleas for more.

“Oh— oh—” he whined. It felt too good.

You didn’t plan to go any further. You thought you could be content with just watching him get off and call it a day so he could learn not to pull that shit again, but your limitation was turning into a punishment for you as well. Here in his arms, it was so easy to remember what he did to you the last time you both found yourselves in the storage room. How nice his fingers had felt inside you, the skilled work of his tongue, and you had been daydreaming about the orgasm he gave you since the minute you parted ways.

Your body was hot, and unbeknownst to Jungkook, who was trying his very best to keep his hands down, you made quick work of pulling your skirt up and pulling your drenched panties to the side. He didn’t notice something had changed until you moaned into the kiss, sending a whole new wave of need over his entire body.

Jungkook instantly pulled away and from the soft glow of the light creeping in from underneath the door, he saw your hooded eyes before turning his gaze downward and seeing what was happening between your legs. It was dark, and even though Jungkook had pretty good eyesight, it was still difficult to see the way your free hand had slipped between your legs. It was easy to hear, however. You had to be soaked…

The thought alone nearly made him rut into you until he came, but instead, he quickly tried to compose himself and groaned lightly before looking back into your eyes. Your gaze was haunting in the way he knew it would follow him despite how much he wanted it to go away. The way the light reflected off your shining eyes, the slight smile on your face as you peered into his bewildered gaze— confused, yet eager for more.

“You like what you see?” you lightly chuckled, teasing. Oh, the ache.

“I—I could help you,” he stammered, begging. He would do anything. This was a curse disguised as a blessing.

“Mmm, you’d really want that? I thought you said my existence bothered you,” you laughed breathlessly. You were pleasing yourself well; he could see it from the look on your face.

Jungkook wanted to blurt out that he didn’t mean it like that, but he couldn’t. That would be a lie. Nothing you did had ever bothered him besides the very fact that you existed. You made his life complicated, and he knew that wasn’t necessarily your fault. It was more on him than you, but—

You laughed again when he didn’t respond.

“Just sit there and be a good boy. Watching you is nice. Don’t cum until I finish,” you sighed so sweetly. The nickname was unexpected, but well-received apparently with how he suddenly discovered the newfound energy to speed up his pace. He could see the vague outline of your hand speeding up between your legs, seemingly trying to match his pace, and he wished he hadn’t turned off the lights. You looked so pretty like this, even in the dark… imagine…

Jungkook was a mess, a ferocious battle occurring in his head the longer he watched. He wanted nothing more than to be good for you. He didn’t want to disappoint you, he had to be good. But there was also a side of him that wanted to push your hand aside, help you out, and serve you in the very way he knew he should. If Yuri could see him now, she would be more than disappointed, letting you take care of yourself when that was meant to be his job. Your wish to pleasure yourself was harder not to interfere with than he could have thought.

He had already struggled before when the friction was nice, but not enough. And sitting here now, watching you and hearing your soft sighs and moans, made the ache so painful he needed to slow himself down in order to obey you. He had to be good. He couldn’t let you down too.

He just couldn’t stop himself from helping out a little, though— an occasional kiss when your whines pleaded for a little more, or moving his lips downward to lightly suck across your delicate skin. Jungkook was worried you’d stop him since he wasn't entirely following your orders, but you never did. Maybe you were too out of it to notice, or too out of it to care, or maybe you even liked his little touches. It was a little silly to think about.

It wasn’t long, though, before he started to notice some of the signs he recognized from the last time that you both were here that you were close. Your whines grew more desperate and hurried and it made him chase into you faster. He wanted to finish you off and make you make a mess all over his fingers. He wanted to ruin you.

“Y/n…” It was just your name, but it was his last-ditch attempt at asking you to let him help you. What he was met with wasn’t the rejection that he was expecting, or even something drastic like you grabbing his hand to replace your own. No, instead you pulled him into a hurried kiss. You both were chasing the euphoria of pleasure too blindly to care about remaining civil. It was messy, and Jungkook found himself enjoying the chaos of it all: tongues exploring every nook they could, teeth occasionally clashing, wet, hot need and desperation in the way you moved your mouth against his.

It wasn’t any surprise that as your whines grew more needy, so did his own desperation. He had to stop himself from speeding up and finishing too quickly. Instead, he kept his pace as steady as he could while he watched your pleasure unfold right before his eyes, the way your hand sped up and the look on your face growing more pained by the minute—

“Oh—oh—Ju—“ You didn’t get to finish your sentence, and he wished you had, but the sight of you was even better than he could have imagined. With the way your mouth fell open and your eyes fluttered closed as you worked yourself through your orgasm, Jungkook nearly came right along with you. It was honestly a miracle he didn’t. He hadn’t needed much, but it was far more than he required to have him hurtling toward the edge. It took everything in him to stop himself from giving in. He wanted to be good for you— he had to be.

As you steadily came down, Jungkook tried his best to slow himself down. He watched you, wide-eyed, waiting for your next order, thinking maybe you had changed your mind and wanted to leave.

“Okay… You can finish now,” you whispered, clearly out of breath. Jungkook’s body didn’t allow for a moment of hesitation as he immediately got back to work. Now with your permission, he felt crazed as he pulled you into another messy kiss, his body working faster than his mind so that he could hardly keep up. He pressed into you firmly, the unsteadiness of the table apparent with how it squeaked with each move he made. He was close— so, so close.

“Where? Where should I—” Jungkook hurried, realizing any moment might spell disaster. He was hoping for some type of direction from you, his mind so out of it that he couldn’t think up a reasonable solution other than to ruin his pants.

“Figure it out yourself,” you sighed, your eyes finally back on him, and Jungkook couldn’t help but whine realizing he was dealing with an even bigger emergency than he had thought only seconds ago.

For a second, he just continued as is, gliding across your thigh with no intention of stopping at any point. But finally, finally, he remembered the condom in his back pocket. Right!

Jungkook probably looked like a mess straining to reach in his back pocket while he also tried to keep his pace up and kiss you any chance he could. It was a struggle and many times he considered giving up, but finally he was able to pull it out and slam it on the table beside you.

Pants— now somehow he just needs to get his pants off…

Jungkook wanted to be good, but he was losing it. He hopped off your thigh and lifted you off the table to flip you around, your hands gripping the table firmly while your ass was pressed right where he was desperate to feel you. Jungkook had to practically tear himself away from your warmth to somehow get his belt loose, a horrendous struggle of need as he kept pressing into you, making it that much more difficult to take it off.

It was a vicious cycle of Jungkook making a little progress with his belt before the need to feel you became too great and he would consider giving up altogether, before thinking about the consequences and trying his hardest to get his belt loose and his zipper down.

Jungkook was nearing failure. He was only seconds away from giving in when finally his belt came undone and he could pull himself out, desperate to feel you. Jungkook should have pulled away so he could put the condom on, but instead he found himself pushing your skirt up and sliding between your thighs, rubbing himself along the soaked fabric of your panties, bringing himself closer to his breaking point. The condom was in his hand, ready to be opened so he could finally, finally have you, and then—

“Fuccccck!” Jungkook cried into your shoulder, tears slipping down his cheeks as his orgasm washed over him in a flush. It was humiliating and the embarrassment immediately made his cheeks burn as he steadily rocked into you, each wave washing away his problems before bringing new ones to the surface. It had happened so fast… and as nice as it felt, he couldn't help but feel ashamed that this was happening all over again.

It didn’t take long after the heat of his emotions died down to discover the mess he made on the table. The streak of light pouring in was enough to see where it glistened. Jungkook quickly turned on the lights, feeling relieved that by some miracle nothing had gotten on your clothes. It was also lucky that you happened to be in a supply closet so you had easy access to paper towels to clean things up.

Honestly, Jungkook was expecting you to leave, but you stayed and watched him try to straighten himself out while you simultaneously tried to fix yourself. You weren’t wearing bright lipstick today, so luckily it wasn’t smeared everywhere. And while things had gotten a little wild, your hair wasn’t in too bad of a condition and was relatively easy to smooth out.

Neither of you said a word, just working in silence until finally the time came for you both to leave. You gave him a slight smile before opening the door, which was more than he deserved, to be honest.

After you left, the guilt washed over him all over again. He had said he wouldn’t do this again, but—

As much as he was beating himself up about it, he knew deep down that he would eventually seek you out again.

•────•──────────•────•

“Hyung, I told you I can’t,” Jungkook groaned as he stared at his dinner, which was surely cold by now.

“All I heard was a no. You didn’t give me a legitimate reason why you couldn’t come with me,” Jimin pointed out, making Jungkook sigh for the billionth time.

Jimin had called him at an hour far too late for any type of decent conversation. Jungkook had gotten home late and had been staring despondently at Yuri’s empty chair and uneaten dinner for the last twenty minutes. His mood was down and his eyes had grown watery the longer he let his mind wander, when suddenly his phone rang.

Jimin had called to invite him to a concert that was happening in Itaewon that he was convinced Jungkook needed to go to.

“Hyung, I’m busy! Everyone’s busy right now!” It came off far more charged than he intended.

“That didn't stop you in the past! We used to have a billion things to do for work, but you’d always drag me out with you to concerts like this, saying the experience would be worth it,” Jimin reminisced.

“That was a very different time. I have a billion more responsibilities now. I don’t have time to just go out anymore,” Jungkook grumbled.

“But all you ever do is go to work and then go home. I think it would be good for you to get out of your routine and do something different for a change. I mean, when was the last time we hung out outside of the office?”

Jungkook wanted to have a rebuttal. It was on the tip of his tongue, but silence hung in the air as he tried to think about it. He couldn’t remember the last time…

“That’s because I’m busy. I’ve been trying to tell you this over and over, but you’re not listening,” Jungkook rolled his eyes, wondering why they were still having this conversation. A “no” should have been the end of it.

“I am listening. I just thought this would be something you’d want to go to. If you weren’t playing, you used any of your free time to try and be at a concert like this,” Jimin recounted.

Normally, an invitation to an indie concert was like cheese in a mouse trap for Jungkook. No matter the obstacle, Jungkook would try and go. There was even one time Jungkook had been sick in bed all week, but he had tickets to a concert where one of his favorite bands was playing. Jungkook hadn’t yet fully recovered, but he pushed through and still managed to attend. He always spoke fondly of the memory, even though his fever returned afterwards from pushing himself so hard, causing him to be bedridden for another week.

“I told you that that was a different time. I don’t understand why we need to keep going in circles around this,” Jungkook groaned once again. His patience was being tested. It was hard enough being at home alone right now and the last thing he needed was for Jimin to try and drag him out, adding more to his already full plate.

“And I told you it’s because you haven’t yet given me a legitimate reason why you can’t go,” Jimin retorted. And the cycle continued.

Jungkook had to stop himself from saying something he knew he shouldn’t, taking a couple of deep breaths before continuing.

“I don’t want to go, okay! Listen to me carefully, I. do. not. want. to. go. to. this. concert. with. you.” Jungkook made sure to articulate each word carefully. It seemed like his attempt to calm down wasn’t enough as it sounded far meaner than he wanted.

For the first time, the line was silent.

“Jungkook, I’m just trying to help you. I don’t think it’s healthy that all you ever do is go to work and go home. I thought this would be a fun thing for us to do together, a change in your routine you really might need.” Jungkook could hear the hurt in Jimin’s voice, but it didn’t quell his growing anger.

“I do not want to go! Leave me alone! We’ve been talking for forty minutes now about this stupid fucking concert after I’ve explicitly told you no several times!” Jungkook finally snapped.

“Jungkook—” Jimin tried to reply. But he had enough and hung up the phone.

Jungkook sighed and tried to return to his dinner. The call had no reason to go on for as long as it did. All Jimin had to do was take no for an answer and there would be no hard feelings. So why did he just have to keep pushing? To help? The last thing that would help him was forcing him to go somewhere he didn’t want to. Sure, in the past Jungkook would have appreciated the offer. It had normally been Jungkook dragging Jimin to concerts instead of the other way around. College-aged Jungkook would have never believed Jimin was the one who was trying to get him to go to a concert of all things.

Suddenly, in the darkness of the apartment, Jungkook found himself staring into the abyss, realizing how much he had changed. He had to change. No one was the same person they were in college. He had ten times more responsibilities than he had then. He had a wife, he was director of an entire department… he had no time for anything. College Jungkook had been a very different person and Jimin had to accept that.

But still, the longer he looked into the abyss, his eyes grew more watery. Had he really changed that much?

From his seat in the dining area he could see out into the living room where the guitar Jimin had gifted him still sat on the wall. Not once had he gotten the opportunity to play it and he didn’t think he ever would. He had more things to think about other than just himself now. He didn’t want to make Yuri unhappy. He didn’t want to make anyone unhappy. Yet why was that the only thing he seemed to do these days? Jimin was just trying to be nice. Jungkook used to love going to concerts, so of course Jimin would try to invite him. He didn’t want to be mean, so why had he been so mean to him?

His dinner became the last thing on his mind as tears quickly filled his eyes and spilled onto his cheeks. Pathetic, pathetic, you’re so pathetic.

A cry filled the silence of the apartment and Jungkook desperately wished Jimin were here with him.

•────•──────────•────•

Yuri had done it again.

Despite how much Jungkook insisted and pleaded, she went against his wishes no matter how much he asked her not to. For some reason, Yuri loved making his life difficult.

Had he truly been so horrible that a simple ask wasn’t even worth considering? That might have been it— he’d been nothing but horrible to her. Maybe she had stopped caring about anything he had to say now. He wouldn’t blame her…

But was it so wrong to ask her not to lead him on if she didn’t want to do anything further with him? Was it really that much of an unreasonable ask? Not once— but twice in one day Jungkook had found his face flushed, thinking he could finally make love to his wife properly, but then she’d abruptly pull away, degrade him for being so “needy,” then storm off, leaving Jungkook a helpless mess as he cried. Was it so bad that he just wanted a little bit of space for the time being?

Maybe it was. He was her husband so they should be close, but a little break couldn’t be too bad? Why did she always make it so hard when it didn’t need to be? One minute she was cold, wanting him as far away as possible, and the next she’d lure Jungkook to the point of relaxation, ready to love her, before ripping it away abruptly.

Jungkook had simply invited her to join him on the couch and cuddle. His intentions had been pure, but not even five minutes after she sat down, Yuri was on him not even five minutes after she sat down. He’d gone along with it, trying his best not to disappoint her, but he’d pushed too far when he pulled on the waistband of her shorts and that had been enough to set her off.

What made it worse was that he knew by now that if he hadn’t been spending his time with you, venting his frustration, that he surely would have ruined things even earlier by now. It was almost a miracle Yuri hadn’t suspected anything considering how jumpy he had been before he broke down in his office in front of you. Though it didn’t even help that much— if anything, his time with you only made him want to be with Yuri in the same way even more.

Maybe it was his guilt— or rather, the lack of guilt he felt about the affair that made him desperate to make up for it in some shape or form. He had been sneaking away with you to the storage room for some time now and not once had he ever regretted it. If anything, any time he made his way there he was excited, knowing he’d feel sweet bliss in the moment.

Once it was over though, he felt nothing. It was frightening. When he was with you it was the only time he could chase any type of feeling. He didn’t know what it was exactly, but it felt better than feeling nothing. Alone with you in the storage room, the world around him drowned out so easily. It was only for a few minutes, but it was enough.

The next day, Jungkook did the only thing he knew how to do these days and texted you. He never understood why you answered each and every time. He hoped that the first experience would have been enough to dissuade you, but at the same time he was thankful to you for being with him, even though he didn’t show it. Your relationship was complicated, sour, maybe even a little toxic considering the circumstances it was founded in.

“Why— why— why?!” Jungkook cried as quietly as he could as he held onto you. You both had gotten into another heated argument. Most of the time you would try not to talk to each other aside from Jungkook’s occasional check-ins that it was ok to proceed when he wanted more. This time though, with Yuri on his mind and emotions all over the place, Jungkook couldn’t help but spout a few words as soon as you walked in the room. It seemed he was taking all the bottled-up anger he shielded from Yuri and directing it onto you.

Basically, he’d questioned why you kept doing this to him. They were the words he wanted to say to Yuri, but he meant them all the same to you too. He was trying to be a decent husband and you were pulling him down further into the hole of irredeemability. Yuri already hated him. He wanted to make it work, he had to make it work. So many people were counting on him to be a good husband. How was he ever going to win her heart if you existed? Why, why were you doing this to him?!

As expected, you didn’t take his ranting very well. Jungkook was basically questioning the very nature of your existence and for some reason he thought that your presence was simply enough to force him into doing the wrong thing. It was outrageous, he knew that, and he hated what he said the minute the words left his mouth, but instead of apologizing and admitting he wasn’t having a good day, he doubled down. It was awful. He wanted you to leave. He wanted you to stay even more despite his harsh words. For some reason, you chose the latter. He didn’t understand why, but it didn’t take much time until he had you pinned against one of the shelves.

A flurry of anger, lust, and a need that spread faster than a wildfire. You both had hardly engaged in any foreplay before he hurriedly stuffed his cock inside of you. Immediately, he burst into tears— his building emotions overflowing and spilling from his eyes. He didn’t know whether they were angry tears or sad tears. He didn’t know why he cried all the time these days. It was so bad.

“Why are you doing this to me?!” Jungkook sobbed into your shoulder, thrusting harder as he grew close.

“Fu—fuck you,” you spat back at him.

“What does it look like I’m doing? Am I not good enough?” he questioned sadly. He didn’t need you to answer, he already knew what you would say. If Jungkook was good enough, he wouldn’t be here right now. He would be in his wife’s arms instead. He would be happy, she would be happy if he was good enough.

“Fuck you, Jungkook, fuck y—“ you cursed at him as your profanity morphed into a whine. His punishing pace never faltered.

“Shut up— please.” Not now, not when all he could picture was his wife’s disappointed face.

Jungkook switched up his pace to long, languid strokes. The tears kept spilling from his eyes. He always got extra sappy when he was close; Yuri pointed it out all the time.

“Why does she hate me so much? Why am I never good enough for her? Why—” He was upset, yet he knew he had no right to be. He was the one making her miserable. Things would be so much easier if he was just a little better.

You didn’t say anything back and he was glad you didn’t. Any judgment would have been enough to send him off the edge. Instead, you just listened silently to his saddened cries as he fucked all of his frustration into you.

Your feelings for Jungkook were complicated, but the sex was good. Very good, actually. The passion was so explosive whenever you were in a room together alone. Sometimes that passion manifested as anger, other times it was lust, and sometimes it was both, like in this case.

It was clear Jungkook was struggling, and as much as your instincts were telling you to stay far away from him, you feared what would happen if you didn’t keep coming back. Each time the sex got better despite Jungkook seeming visibly worse. He was literally having a breakdown right now and it wasn’t even the first time it had happened.

You tried your best to keep your emotions under control, not wanting to set him off in any way, but he was harsh towards you, and even harsher towards himself.

“Just want her to— why can’t— fuck— why doesn’t she want me?!”

You didn’t want to pry, but his pleas already had a picture of his wife forming in your mind.

“I— I told you— told you to please go easy on me until you’re ready, but you— you don’t want to listen to me. You never do.” His voice was hoarse and pained. These were deep, dark thoughts that he didn’t even know he had until they left his mouth. He felt sick when they did.

All you could see were the faint labels on the boxes in front of you, but for a moment you were tempted to turn around and look at him. He sounded so sad.

“Yuri— please—” he cried, holding you a little tighter.

You could only imagine he was thinking about his wife at that moment. It was a strange experience hearing another woman’s name come out of his mouth while he was inside of you. Initially, you just wanted to turn around and slap him and tell him that you were right here, but you had to remind yourself that it was his wife after all— of course that’s who he was thinking about.

“Please— please— please— oh-pl—” He was close. Really, really close.

Jungkook’s sobs morphed into pained whines the closer he grew to the end. His thrusts grew sloppier with each moan and you helped out a little by tightening yourself around him, something you had learned was a catalyst to quickly finishing him off. The first time, you were a little too eager when he put it inside of you and he probably didn't even last a minute longer after that. And just like back then, the moment you squeezed around him he was practically putty in your hands.

After a couple of more thrusts, he stilled inside you completely before pumping the condom full of his cum. He had nearly forgotten to put it on earlier— the heat of the moment making him act a little too hastily. His grip on your waist tightened, and for a moment it sounded like he had stopped crying. For a second, you wanted to believe that you had given him a little relief from whatever hell he seemed to be going through.

Jungkook didn’t move for a while. Instead, he stayed close, thrusting lightly as he sobbed into your shoulder, mumbling things you couldn’t even make out anymore. You didn’t stop him, nor did you say anything. You just let him cry.

Things seemed to be particularly bad today. You had tried your best to piece it all together from the random words he slipped out. You knew it had to do with Yuri and something that she had done to him, but he never got more specific than that. Seeing how poorly he was reacting, you could only imagine how terrible it was.

He was shaking. You could feel the trembling of the hand he had on your waist, and even though he’d grown quiet, you could feel your blouse dampening with each second that passed.

You felt the urge to ask him if he was ok again, even though you already knew the answer. You were about to ask, when suddenly Jungkook pulled away. You hadn’t been prepared for the coolness of the room without his warmth.

You vaguely saw his silhouette move around in the darkness. You figured he was throwing away the condom, but then you watched him go over to the same table he’d often taken you on to grab the box of tissues you had pulled out of storage. You heard him blow his nose before you faintly saw him wipe his eyes and tear-stained cheeks.

“I’m sorry— sorry— I— ummm…” Jungkook took a deep breath, his voice wavering a little too much, nearly cracking in the process. “You can hop up on the table.”

You tried not to look too shocked despite the fact that he probably couldn’t see you anyway. You honestly hadn’t expected him to still be in the mood for that today, seeing how upset he was. But no matter how heated the moments could get between you two, Jungkook was always nice enough to help you out afterward in more desperate times like this when you didn’t finish along with him.

“You sure? You don’t really seem like you’re doing ok,” you asked hesitantly, walking over to him.

“Yeah, I want to be useful for something.” He almost sounded like he was about to burst into tears again.

“We don’t have to if you don’t—”

“I do— I want to… please—” He didn’t even let you finish before he grabbed your hand and pulled you close. You had the consuming urge to pull him into a hug or kiss his cheeks to make him feel better, or at least get a smile out of him. You resisted though, and jumped up on the table before letting your heels fall to the floor. You had nearly stabbed him in the back one time, so now you always made it a point to take them off whenever you were in this position.

You watched with curious eyes as he dropped to his knees right in front of you. You could still see the shininess in his eyes as he looked up at you. What could he have possibly done to make Yuri so upset? You had every reason to be upset at him, yet you still couldn’t find it in you to hold onto any ill feelings or hatred. Things were just complicated at the moment.

Jungkook proceeded to be sweet to you like he always was, leaving soft gentle kisses across your skin before you had to grip onto his hair as he sent you to another dimension once again.

•────•──────────•────•

“Y/n, what’s been going on between you and Director Jeon?” Solmi asked you out of the blue one day, causing you to nearly choke on your rice.

You had only just arrived at the table to join her and Taehyung for a late lunch. They were both nearly finished already, but lucky for you, you had brought the leftovers you wanted to finish off for lunch today. By the time you made it to the cafeteria, the lunch line had already closed.

You told them you had been with Jungkook, which wasn’t technically a lie. They thought he had held you up because of a meeting you had mentioned in which Jungkook had emailed you wanting to meet up to discuss budget planning, specifically to get your input about salaries for the department. That had not been a lie either.

Jungkook and you had met earlier for actual work purposes to go over some important information. Director Son was out of the office for a big meeting over at another company— so you’d stepped in to fill his place. It was just that although you both had finished shortly before lunch, a lot of tension had started to build between you over the course of your meeting. No arguments were had, but anytime you’d get deep into the numbers, he would stare at you with this strange look in his eyes.You had no idea why, as you were just discussing business, but you were so used to that look by now that you knew what it meant he wanted.

You were just about to leave when you felt his hand close around your wrist. You turned and looked behind you and caught his sparkling eyes peering into yours as he so quietly and shyly asked if he could have just a little more of your time.

That’s how you both ended up sneaking away to the storage room as the time ticked away into your lunch break. You had both tried to be quick— Jungkook insisting he would work fast, but that didn’t deter him from giving you two orgasms with his tongue before sending you into a third with his cock. You were still buzzing, your knees a little weak, as you hurried downstairs to meet your friends who were waiting for you.

You tried to keep calm at her question. “Wha-What do you mean?” You nearly choked as you tried to stuff kimchi in your mouth so you didn’t have to answer.

“We used to be down here at least once a week hearing you rant about how awful Jeon Jungkook was,” she said, imitating your voice during the last part. “But then it stopped and you guys seem closer now. Do you not hate him anymore?” she asked bluntly. Solmi had always been that way.

“Uhhh—” you stumbled, at a loss for words. “We’re not that close, really. My new position just requires us to work together more often. Do I still hate him? It’s umm— it’s complicated.” Technically another honest answer— that wasn’t a simple question anymore.

“Complicated?” Taehyung repeated, his cheeks full of rice.

“Yeah. It was easier to hate him when he was just a mysterious figure that I hardly ever saw in person, but now… since we’ve started working a little more closely together and we’ve had some time one-on-one… I don’t know how to describe it other than it’s complicated. He’s a weird dude, and I will never forgive him for all the work he’s assigned me over the years, but… he’s also a busy guy and seems like he has a lot on his plate. He’s not so bad when you get to know him a little more personally. Again, it’s just complicated,” you sighed as you played with your food. Again, you hadn’t lied. Despite everything, you just couldn’t really hate the guy anymore, but that didn’t stop you from thinking he could be a major dick sometimes.

“Really?” Solmi inquired after your long winded answer.

You nodded steadily.

“Does this mean you’re not president of the Jungkook hate club anymore?” she followed up quickly, and Taehyung joined her in her laughter. You found it a little funny too.

“I think it’s time I retire. I’m sure there’s someone who hates him more than me now,” you smiled, but for a second, Jungkook’s words echoed in your head as you thought about his wife.

“Wahhh, I never thought I’d see the day you retire from something,” Taehyung said seriously, looking over at Solmi.

You playfully rolled your eyes, knowing full well what he was referring to. On one of the dates you went on, you told him you never thought you’d ever retire, your ambition making it too difficult for you to settle down.

“If you don’t hate him anymore, then I won’t feel bad bringing up the fact I think his eyes are really pretty,” Solmi said so quickly, you nearly didn’t catch it.

You gasped at her words before you rolled your eyes again. You couldn’t even say anything back. You thought they were pretty too. Deep down, you knew you always had for some reason.

•────•──────────•────•

You needed a car. That had become apparent long before you started working at Golden Tech, but it was only recently that it had started to become detrimental to your career.

Your new position had you moving around the city a lot more often than your last one did. It wasn’t too uncommon for you to need to join Director Son in meetings with other companies, or venture out on your own to get across town. The amount of times you’ve had to deal with the challenges of relying on public transportation to get to meetings was insane.

You finally decided enough was enough the first time you accompanied Director Son to a meeting and he offered to let you ride in the car with him. In comparison to the bus or subway, it was practically night and day, finally confirming how much easier it would be to just suck it up and get your own car. There was no stress of needing to run to the bus stop so you could make it back to work on time. Aside from the slight traffic you ran into, it was much smoother sailing compared to the times you’d gone on your own.

Funnily enough, aside from the fact that cars and gas were expensive, you had only gotten your license just last year. Taehyung had actually been the one to teach you after you confessed to him late one late night about feeling a little insecure that you were in your mid-20s and you didn’t know how to drive. Your ambitious nature had gotten you a job at Golden Tech and the Associate Director position all within the span of just two years, but it was also what prevented you from doing certain things, like getting your license. You were always too busy with school to take the time to learn. Plus, you had moved away from home for college and going back home to Busan for driving lessons from your family during your busy schedule was impossible— or well, it just wasn’t going to happen.

Taehyung had been kind enough to meet up on your free weekends to teach you. Once you finally passed your test, you met up with Tae to celebrate, and that’s when your friendship got complicated. He kissed you, you kissed him back, he asked you out, and suddenly you were in a “secret” relationship and going on dates as often as you could.

But that had been over a year ago now. You had your license, but never got a car because you never found the time to start that process. Plus, you were making do with public transportation so you found no need for the extra expense. But ever since Director Son drove you to that meeting, you’d been considering it. Your income was sufficient now and you finally felt like you were ready to become a car owner. You hoped it would be a nice Christmas or New Year's gift to yourself for the great year you had had. Right now, though, you were just in the research stage and still dealing with the struggles of public transportation.

This was all to say that when Jungkook told you about a meeting he needed you and Director Son to attend with him, you ran into an issue. You somehow let it slip that it would be a little difficult to make it there in time since rush hour would be occurring at the time. The subway wasn’t a good option since it could get so crowded, making it impossible to get out of the station, and the closest bus stop to the company was ten minutes away, which with traffic meant you’d end up running minutes late. You’d already tried that route before and had had to call the company on a crowded subway to tell them that you were going to be late.

And that was how Jeon Jungkook offered to give you a ride.

“I’ll drive you. We’re going to the same place anyway. It'll be fine.” His words were nice, yet he had a bit of an attitude. You weren’t fighting, but this was just how things always were between you two.

It was easy to guess why you were hesitant. Being alone in a car with Jeon Jungkook wasn’t something you really wanted to do. So much so, that you actually told him you’d ask Taehyung to give you a ride first before agreeing to his proposition. You had thought you were doing him a favor by saving him from the awkwardness of the ride, but for some reason his attitude changed completely as soon as you mentioned that.

You honestly had no idea what had happened, but suddenly he was insisting it would be no trouble. He emphasized that you were going to the same place and that it would be too much unnecessary work for Taehyung since he wasn’t going to the meeting. Somehow, Jungkook convinced you to feel guilty about asking Taehyung, and that was exactly why you ended up walking down to the garage with him on the day of the meeting.

You were both silent as you walked. It had been that way since you left his office earlier. It felt like that day all over again. And just like that day, you were greeted with Jungkook’s fancy ass Mercedes.

Now that you had been doing a little research into cars, as you got in, you were in for another reality check on how rich he was. Not only did he own a Mercedes, but you knew some of the features you saw were crazy expensive to add on— you know, you had checked after liking Jungkook’s car so much.

You couldn’t deny how sexy the car looked with its sleek black interior and the pretty lights that added a subtle ambiance, a little color to cut through all the blackness. It was hot, and you had to stop yourself from fawning as you looked around at the lavishness of it all.

Not in front of him.

But once again, just like last time, your eyes couldn’t help but to drift over to him as Jungkook started up the vehicle. He had one hand on the wheel as he pulled out, his pretty hair sitting right at his shoulders, the waves making him look ethereal. It was ridiculous how someone this good looking could even exist.

As enthralled as you were by his beauty, the serious expression he wore concerned you and made you worried he was annoyed with having you there. It didn't make any sense since he was the one who insisted on you driving with him. You had tried to save yourselves the trouble by at least wanting to ask Taehyung if he was free, but noooo, he wanted to make things complicated.

Instead of dwelling on it too much, you just turned your attention out the window to admire the sights and to stop thinking about Jungkook.

You had thought it would be a relatively short drive, even though the company you both were headed to was on the opposite side of the city. Director Son had actually gotten there earlier in the day, having a meeting on his own before the one you and Jungkook would join started. If he hadn’t had to arrive early, you probably would have asked him for a ride instead.

You really hadn’t expected the ride to take that long, but once again, you were reminded that rush hour didn’t just apply to public transportation. The traffic was almost immediate as you pulled out of the garage. Luckily for you, Jungkook had insisted on leaving early, probably having better foresight and expecting the traffic, but even you could tell that traffic was particularly bad.

You wondered if it was normal, but as you looked over at Jungkook, you saw his face grow more disgruntled each minute you only moved up a little bit. Of course it was just your luck that for some reason, traffic was especially bad today.

To make the ride even more uncomfortable, the mood in the car was tense. Jungkook seemed to have some type of problem. He hadn’t said anything to you yet, but you were terrified that at any moment he would be back to playing the blame game. Maybe he wanted to bring you along just to torment you? Maybe you should have just lied and said Taehyung had already agreed to drive you? Anything to take back getting in this fucking car.

In a desperate attempt to keep the car ride civil, you asked Jungkook if you could turn on the radio. You were a little surprised he agreed and even told you where to go on the touch screen. As the poppy chorus of the latest idol songs filled the car, it made things a little less awkward. You were focused on trying to stop yourself from singing along and keeping Jungkook out of sight, out of mind. As long as you kept your attention focused out the window, all would be fine. Before you knew it, you’d be at the company and you’d be free from this claustrophobic hell.

But then it was your fault that you made the horrible mistake of turning your head too much, letting you see Jungkook’s displeased expression out of the corner of your eye, his eyes burning a hole into the car in front of you.

Was it the traffic that had him so pissed? You knew being the driver would make the situation even more annoying. Hopefully it wasn’t you, or else you really would have to jump out of the car to avoid his bitching when you had a meeting to worry about.

You didn’t know what came over you. Maybe you were willing to do anything to save the car ride from turning into a fight, so you let your body act first before your mind could catch up to stop you. All of a sudden, you rested your hand on his thigh. You felt your cheeks warm up as you watched Jungkook look down at it, and then over at you.

You wondered if he was going to say something. He looked like he was about to, but ultimately he never did. Instead, he turned his attention to fixate back on the car in front of you.

You honestly had no idea where you were going with this. You had initially acted without thinking, but as time passed, you subtly started to run your hand up and down his thigh to try and calm him down. It wasn’t anything too crazy, but it was enough to make Jungkook look down and then over at you again.

“I can stop if you want me to.” You finally looked over to meet his eyes. You both knew where it would go if you continued, so you thought it best to ask him if he was comfortable. You didn’t know how you had gotten yourself here, you kept telling yourself, ignoring the way you had been daydreaming about how good he looked driving.

Jungkook looked at you for a moment and you were keen to notice the way his grip on the steering wheel tightened each time your hand moved a little higher up his thigh, and the subtle way he bit his lip the longer he stared. You hated to admit it was a little hot.

“You’re fine— you can keep going,” he nervously coughed as he turned back to the road.

He was embarrassed, still not quite used to how starkly different things were with you than with Yuri. She would never do something like this for him, let alone let him rest his hand on her thigh. He had tried once, one of the few times she had ridden in his car. He got the idea after watching a movie where the guy did it with his girlfriend. Jungkook’s cheeks flushed and he got butterflies anytime there’d be a scene of them in the car, causing him to bury himself in the blanket he’d wrapped himself with. He figured he would try it out with Yuri one day, but it didn’t go well… nothing he ever did went well.

He was still getting used to how often you two were meeting up in the storage room. He’d only bought a small box of condoms, figuring just like with Yuri, anything more would be a waste. But weirdly enough, he was already needing to plan his next trip to the store when he realized you were nearing the end of the box. Jungkook would have been shocked if you hadn’t let him have you with less than a week in between, but you never once turned down his shameless begging, even after only a day. He could hardly keep up and he still felt guilty anytime he’d ask you.

When he invited you to drive with him, he definitely wasn’t prepared for you to flip things around. His intentions hadn’t been impure whatsoever, he truly thought it made more sense then you needing to run off with Taehyung, right? Why should you ask Taehyung when you both were going to the same place and he had room in his car? It didn’t make any sense for you to go with Taehyung— unless, well, unless you had wanted a chance to be alone with him because you—

His mind had been racing with that thought when suddenly, he felt your hand on his thigh. It instantly took him out of his spiral, and when you started moving— Jungkook had to press his index finger between his lips to stop himself from moaning out. You started off with subtle movements, but when you noticed the way he shifted slightly to meet your hand anytime you moved up his thigh, you stopped. Your hand stayed right where his pants continued to grow tighter.

Jungkook was far too weak and sensitive to stay calm. The frustrations from this ridiculous traffic, the stress of making it to the meeting on time, and your hand on his thigh made the frustration so intense he needed to seek you out for refuge like he always seemed to do these days.

He was hard before you even made it to the next stoplight.

His face was warm, embarrassed because he wasn’t sure if this is what you had intended when you started, but surely you had realized the effect of your hand by now.

He was so pathetic. He wasn’t even entirely sure whether or not he wanted to start crying or pleading for more.

More, he wanted more. As you both sat in traffic, his mind was wandering off to imaging so many things he wanted to do. He wanted to ask for you to touch him more. He could undo his belt and zipper, and oh— he also wanted to feel you. He wanted to feel your mouth again— it had been a while since that day in his office. The very thought was enough to get him flushed in the face as it grew more and more difficult to focus.

Every time his eyes glanced down and he’d see what you were doing, it just got worse. Part of him was absolutely terrified that someone could see what was happening if they happened to look through the window, but the other half didn’t care and wanted you to finish what you had started.

It got especially bad when you finally seemed to notice the problem you had made, your fingers tracing over the very obvious outline in his slacks. He felt tears well up in his eyes. You hadn’t been doing enough to make him cum, but he almost wished you had been because the teasing was unbearable. He was tempted to say fuck it, and plead for you to touch him the proper way so he could feel your soft hands all over his skin, and maybe—

Jungkook had to quickly slam the brakes, realizing he had spaced out so much that he didn’t realize the car in front of him had stopped already. You both lurched forward, only slightly, but enough for his embarrassment to get even worse.

“So-sorry!” he quickly apologized, his face somehow growing even hotter.

“It’s fine. Did you need me to stop?” you asked, a bit of concern in your voice.

Jungkook thought about it, and as much as he knew you should, he couldn’t find it in himself to actually wish you would. He had no shame. Jungkook shook his head no, not having enough confidence to tell you honestly that he loved the feeling of your hand and that the thought of stopping now made him want to scream.

He heard you chuckle slightly. “Just make sure to keep your eyes on the road, okay?”

Right. If he was already this much of a mess from you touching him over his clothes, going further might cause you to actually crash. He kept reminding himself that, but the longer you both sat in traffic, the harder it grew not to beg you to finish him off. You wound him up so easily—

Luckily for him, right as things got to the point where he was seriously about to beg you to touch him more, you finally came to the area that had apparently caused the traffic jam. You were right— it was an accident. Nothing too disastrous, it just seemed like a pretty bad fender bender. Police officers had been steadily directing traffic while officials were trying to clear the scene. The minute after you made it past them, it was smooth sailing.

It didn’t take too long afterward for you both to finally pull up to the company— apparently, they were one of the suppliers for Golden Tech. You, Jungkook, and Director Son had come to discuss terms for their services for next year.

Jungkook pulled up to the gate that led into the garage where a security guard stopped you. You quickly removed your hand from Jungkook’s thigh, and for a second, he reached for you to put it back again.

You pointed at the security guard. Right.

Jungkook rolled down the window.

“Oh! I thought it was you! Good afternoon, Director Jeon!” the security guard smiled and bowed.

“Hi!” Jungkook tried to smile back, but all he was thinking about was your hand.

“Dae-Jung isn’t driving you today? I almost didn’t recognize you,” he laughed, looking past Jungkook and peering at you in the passenger seat.

“No— I’m working late today, so I’m driving myself.” It was true. He was staying late today to meet all the deadlines he needed to. But he also knew you would be joining him today. Maybe there had been some part of him that knew things would get heated, maybe some part that had hoped they would.

“I see. We were told to expect you for a meeting. Would you like for us to send someone down to park your car?” The security guard was very animated, in a good way. His energy was infectious and he seemed really sweet. If things were different, Jungkook might have taken him up on his offer considering how long you both were stuck in traffic. He could only imagine the meeting was probably about to start.

“There’s no need. I can do it myself. Thank you for the offer though.” Jungkook tried to maintain a smile to appear not too rude, but he needed you.

“Alright, just find someplace to park. A team member will be at the entrance to escort you to the meeting room.” And with that, the security guard went inside the little building to lift the arm up and allow you to drive through.

You were honestly a little confused why Jungkook didn’t take him up on the offer considering the time. Maybe he hadn’t noticed? Luckily, when you made it in, there just so happened to be a spot available close to the door right at the entrance.

Once he parked, you were ready to jump out and start running when you suddenly felt a hand on yours. You turned to see Jungkook’s shiny eyes looking at you. Right, you almost forgot…

“We still have fifteen minutes left— I would just need like, two minutes— but, uh, you don’t have to— we, um—” Jungkook was beyond flustered, having to ask. You really should run so you could meet Director Son before the meeting started, but there was no way he’d be able to go up there and face all those people feeling like this.

You sighed. This was technically your fault. “You don’t think there would be any time to sneak off once we make it inside?” you asked, wondering if maybe you and Jungkook could find a bathroom before the meeting started… maybe? Then again, that didn't sound very smart.

Jungkook shook his head.

Instead of contemplating it anymore, you just decided to roll with it. “Alright, get your belt off, let’s make this quick,” you sighed as you shifted to get in a better position.

Jungkook didn’t need to be told twice as you watched him frantically tug off his belt and undo his zipper before looking back up at you with pleading eyes. Huh? He could have at least taken himself out first. But you didn’t say anything, not really having time to fight him, so you reached over the console and did the job yourself.

At first, you were just going through the motions, trying your best to be quick about this. You weren’t even thinking about it too much until you felt his precum leak onto your palm. Oh?

“That really worked you up, huh?” You were honestly a little baffled, truly amazed at how sensitive he was. You knew you had been teasing him, but you didn’t expect him to get this turned on by just your hand on his thigh.

“Please…” he moaned, his voice wavering slightly, making you look up and see how flushed he was. This was serious, even more than you originally had thought.

You watched him carefully as you steadily began pumping his length, occasionally running your finger across the tip. The way his eyebrows furrowed when you seemed to hit a sensitive spot, the way he bit his lip, and the cute way he didn’t know what to do with his hands so he was just clutching anything within range… These little details had been lost in the darkness of the storage room before.

You began slowly and would have kept things going like that for a bit longer, but you both had places to be and not much time left. You quickly took your hand back, spit in it to give you some extra glide, and got back to work, hoping it would make things happen quicker.

“Oh— oh! Oh…” Jungkook groaned, letting his head fall back. You could tell he was trying to hold back, but he was a little louder than what he usually was in the storage room. You hated to admit it, but his moans were really just as pretty as he was. You tried your best to stay focused on the task at hand and ignore the way your panties were dampening by the second. You had a meeting to go to…

You distracted yourself by keeping your eyes on the time and making sure your technique was supreme so it would go as fast as possible— twisting your wrist with each upward stroke, making sure to prioritize the tip, the little things. And just like Jungkook promised, it was only a few seconds after the clock ticked for a second time that things got serious.

“Close!” he hurried out.

Alright— you were making ok time. Maybe thirty more—

“Wait— ughh, wait! Where do I…?” Jungkook hurried out quickly. It just dawned on you again exactly where you were.

“Umm, do you have condoms with you?” you questioned, but Jungkook quickly shook his head. He had tears in his eyes. He honestly thought this was going to be it, that you were just going to stop and tell him to suck it up and get over it. That’s what Yuri would have done.

“Ok, we only have one option then. Hurry up and move your seat back a little.” Jungkook was confused, but followed your words anyway since there was no time to question it. As soon as he moved back, you maneuvered yourself to lean over the console and came face-to-face with his length, grasping it between your fingers.

“What are you— oh, oh fuck…” Jungkook whined as you took him into your mouth. You tried to be gentle so you wouldn’t ruin your makeup, but you planned to make this quick. Luckily for you, with Jungkook being as sensitive and as close to the edge as he was, that wouldn’t be a very difficult task to accomplish.

You were only able to get a couple strokes in before his hand quickly flew up to gently hold your head down— he was always so gentle— and you felt him cum down your throat. His noises turned into a mess of expletives, whines, and pretty, pretty moans as you steadily helped him through it. He came fast, hard, and was shaking slightly by the time you pulled off of him.

That was…

He probably looked like a mess. His hands had been running through his hair again. He had tried so hard to make it look nice, you’d even helped him out a little earlier when he complained that he didn’t know what to do with it after he’d messed with it all morning. You had been so soft in the way you concentrated on moving all his curls in the right place. Jungkook’s face had burned and his heart nearly raced out of his chest.

“You ok?” you eventually asked when you noticed he seemed kind of dazed.

That finally brought him back, realizing the time was still ticking. “Yeah s-sorry!” Jungkook stumbled, grabbing the things he needed.

“Don’t apologize… 9 minutes…” You looked over at the clock, but then hurriedly brought out your phone to look in the camera and fix whatever had gotten out of place from your activities. Luckily, it wasn’t too bad. Just a quick reapplication of your lipstick and fixing your hair up a bit and you’d pretty much be good.

“Thank you by the way…” Jungkook said so softly. His face was a little red, you noticed. It was one of the few moments you had these days when the tension dissipated and you were reminded of the shy boy who started blushing if you looked at him for too long.

“It was my fault—” You stared intently at your camera as you reapplied your lipstick. “It wasn’t fair to just leave you hanging like that,” you said plainly.

As soon as you were both done, you hurriedly got out, but then you quickly stopped him from heading to the door. “Let me just—”

Jungkook watched with wide eyes and a warm face as you worked to fix his hair once again. It wasn’t much, you really didn’t have the time to be standing here, yet you still…

“Alright, that’s all I can do— it looked so good before we left. But, huh, somehow you still look great— the messy look suits you,” you say nonchalantly as you continue speed walking. Jungkook had to hurry to catch up to you, dazed from the compliment, your intoxicating sweet scent, and the look in your eyes.

Oh…

Part of him was tempted to say something, but he was too flustered for anything reasonable to come out.

“By the way, Jungkook, do you have any car recommendations?” you asked randomly as you both started to pick up the pace. You didn’t even need to turn behind you to feel Jungkook’s confused gaze.

“You seem like you have a good taste in cars and I was looking for— you know what, nevermind, we only have five minutes. We’ll finish this conversation later, just run!” You grab onto his hand and despite being in heels, you begin to book it. If only you could see the flushed look on Jungkook’s face as he trailed behind you.

This wasn’t a situation you were unfamiliar with. There had been multiple meetings where you’d had to runfrom the subway station or bus stop to make it in somewhat reasonable time. How ironic was it? You thought going by car would be much quicker, but somehow you found yourself in the same situation all over again. Seriously, just your luck.

“I’ll take care of you when we get back!” Jungkook called out from behind you. You didn’t turn around to reveal the smile on your face to him. Of course, he always needed to keep things even. Instead of responding, you just ran a little faster.

You were going to be late at this point!

previous chapter « main masterlist ✩ series masterlist » coming 9/15

#bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #for the birds #bts #jungkook #bts fluff #bts angst #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts fanfic #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bangtan boys #bangtan sonyeondan #bts fan fiction #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst

225 notes · View notes