#ggukkieland

[vminity21]

Goodbye to Hello | jjk

Pairing: badboy!jeongguk x female!reader

Word Count: 25,102

Genre: fluff, lots of smut oops, mega-angst, strangers to lovers!au, fuckboy/fuckgirl!au

Warning(s): profanity, infidelity, mega-angst (im sorry), mention of alcohol, smoking, smut, unprotected sex, oral (m + f receiving), slight m!dom, nipple play, hand job, dirty talk, ice play, ass grabbing, mention of a sex toy, squirting, hobi is a bad boy in this too, multiple orgasms, smutty kissing, reader may or may not have accidentally become a fuckgirl in this story sorry not sorry; Rated: 18+

Credit to: @yoonoclock for making such an incredible cover for this story that has taken me two long years to write. It’s finally where I need it to be and thank you so much Monnie for using your talent to create a banner that truly embodies the story.

Taglist: thank you so much for your patience with me! @ggukkieland @thisartemisnevermisses @moonchild1 @familiarlikemymirror3 @gukniverse​

Summary: After a devastating break up, you immediately move in with your sister, leaving behind the country life to relearn the ups and downs of the city. Adopting a cat and gaining a new job at a retail store part time, life seems to gradually bring happiness and healing, but you did not expect for it to become even more interesting when you stumble upon the enticing yet alluring tattoo artist, Jeon Jeongguk. Will this be an adventure of a lifetime? Or will hello always lead to goodbye?

Golden specks twinkle sporadically like fairy dust creating a shimmering tint to the air that collects the attention of any individual trailing the pavement. Pollen. The groovy excitement of a stuffy nose and mildly itchy eyes sounds stellar compared to how you could be feeling. Sniffling roughly, you squeeze your eyes shut momentarily to relieve what little of the itch that you can and trotting up the steps to your realm of refuge, you can hardly stand the excitement of bundling into the arms of your boyfriend, Jung Hoseok, and relaying how lovely it is to wipe your nose every five minutes. Maybe even ask if you can borrow the sleeve of his sweatshirt as a tissue. Pause. Maybe not.

Entering the rental home, you hadn’t noticed how eerily quiet it seemed, not right away; especially when you are so used to hearing the raging shots of a video game mingled with the yelling profanity between Hoseok and his best friend Kim Namjoon who bicker over headsets about wins that neither of them were really close to. But, let the males believe, they indeed, almost triumphed. Settling your handbag onto the dining table, you tilt your head in confusion. Is Hobi sick today? Where is he?

The floors creak beneath your tennis shoes while you observe the kitchen. That’s funny. The dishes are cleaned and put away, and not one stray of lint is seen upon the countertop- Hoseok has always been clean as well as you, but he never went over the top unless he had company over, and by company you mean his mother. Thoughts drift to the possibility of him wanting to surprise you for whatever the case may be, and your heart flutters at the mere inkling while a smirk graces your lips. How thoughtful, you feel gushy at his consideration of you, and your steps follow the direction of your bedroom.

It is then that your life spirals in a cluster of emotions that you will never forget; sparks dancing in your vision while your chest tightens intensely in response to the sounds you hear echoing beyond the door. No. You want to scream, but your throat constricts, not producing any verbalization no matter how much your brain signals. This can’t be real. Please don’t let this be real. The moans persist. The mystery female is eagerly gasping his name over and over while your heart shudders at the pain severing every vein within your frame. A tear falls panging the floor- your body is so tense, you shiver through the anxiety, and you know deep down that confronting him will hurt even worse than if you were to take the high road and walk away.

Wiping the dampness from your eyes, you spin to compile your things as in your handbag that contains your wallet, car key, and cellphone, and you march outside, slamming the front door behind you to shed some of the anger boiling in your system; you could care less if he heard your grand exit or not for you blocked his number before you settled into your car. You may be able to run from him, but you cannot run from the excruciating pain erupting beneath your chest nor the cycle of questions that refuse to stop spinning because why? After three years together, why would he betray you like this?

The front door flings open. Hoseok runs onto the porch in pure panic, hair disheveled, only in boxers, mouth gaping open as his widened eyes search until they lock with yours. But it’s too late. You are already safe within your car. Even when you notice the slim figure of a woman in one of his t-shirts, you do not move your gaze. You let the stare down with your boyfriend linger enough to rest your case. The second he starts rushing down the porch steps in a way to catch up to you for whatever meaningless apologies- meaningless explanations that will pour from his mouth- is when you reverse onto the road.

Behind the steering wheel with no destination in mind, you come up with the only solution you find reasonable, and you make your way to the city with the intention of starting over, even if it means it destroys you.

-

A queue of ants scurry along the lining of the windowsill where the sun tinges the glass against your knuckles. Shrivel sounds of the granola bar wrapper fills the silence of the kitchen while you gulp the final bite of your snack. Sometimes when your hands feel cold, you leave it to the sun to indulge your skin with warmth before trekking to your room, but instead, the growling of your stomach and the distraction of observing the insects seems to help with the boredom. Dread happens to consume the depths of your chest at the subtle reminder of returning to work in the morning; Sundays always bring the feeling of woe because it is the end of relaxation before continuing the week of being overwhelmed. But you figure adulting is worth it in some ways, and as everyone else, you must work to provide and live.

The chirp of your cat, Kenai, alerts your attention, him pouncing onto the counter to rub his head along your free wrist. “If you’re hungry, just say so,” you coo sarcastically, knowing he is due for his dinner in a few minutes. He will be a year old soon, his yellow eyes squinting as he rubs his head against your palm before arching his back once you run your hand to the end of his tail. Your eyes flit back to the ants darting in search of whatever they need, and inwardly, you are uncertain how your sister, Monnie would feel about the bugs, but you always found them fascinating.

Jumping off the counter, Kenai excitingly follows suit, twirling against your legs as you saunter to the pantry to retrieve his food. You have officially lived with your sister for a year now, and adopting Kenai was one of the best decisions you have ever made besides moving to the city. It is as if you disappeared from the prior life that you once lived and you like it just that way. Kenai temporarily ditches you for his food, and you stroll off to the living room where the scenery of a huge, flat screen television shows your reflection on the empty screen.

Monnie happens to be a successful artist who fell in love with another known artist by the name of Min Yoongi. Together they have won the world with their talent, and you could not have asked for a better couple to be in your life. If there is a true definition of love, it is how Yoongi gazes at your sister- because she is the only woman in the world, he will do anything and everything for. Jokingly, you always tell the pair that you are just going to stick with your cat, but the sadness that etches within Monnie’s eyes reveals that she hopes you will find a good man of your own. She is aware of why you abruptly returned to the place you were birthed, and she is aware that you refuse to speak of it even if it is pent up to the brim of imploding.

When you met your ex, it was in a park of all places. Not high school, not college, not through a family member or a friend: a park. It was a romantic way to begin even though you will never admit it now, but it started so naturally. So simple. You were reading a book while he was creating one. The way you were poised apparently sparked an idea for a story he openly confessed later on in the courtship. He described the scenery around you and how enwrapped in the book you were as something meant to be written for others to discover. How he could imagine a story just from the vision you had no idea you were forming for him.

You fell for him fast. Hard. He was your first everything aside from kissing and as time went by, you agreed to move in with him. You never expected what was going to happen in the future. You never anticipated such excruciating pain from the betrayal, nor did you notice any signs leading up to it. He’s tried contacting you from other phone numbers, but after four months apart, he seemed to have given up. But, because the pain is still so raw, you can’t bear to face him. You will crumple like a piece of paper in his presence if you were to ever see him again. For now, you do all you can to just avoid the situation as much as possible. Besides, he has her now. Whoever she may be.

Alas, what does it matter? It is not like he is able to reach out to you anyways for he is blocked on every and any social media site you can think of, and thankfully your name was not on the lease nor was your name hooked to anything involving your ex, so it will be fine. Or so you tell yourself repeatedly until you lose track of the thought. But that uneasy feeling creeps back up and instead of reaching for the remote, you decide maybe a walk around the city will be better. Monnie isn’t due home until later and you are assuming Yoongi will be tagging along, so why not pass the time by exploring?

Loneliness seeps in the gallows of your heart while you rush through the app for a driver. There is not a specific destination you prefer over another, so you pick a store at random around fifteen minutes away. With the money your sister has, she doesn’t expect you to pay for anything, all she cares about is your happiness though you refuse to not work; for now, you have a part time retail job whilst figuring out a career path that will become your future in the long term.

One thing you will say, is you have not missed driving in the city, hence the reasoning of you summoning a chauffeur. Traffic isn’t your favorite as commonly pronounced by anybody, and with how overwhelming your brain can feel, you prefer to be able to drift into the zone out rather than pay attention. Gripping the strap of your bag, you eagerly watch the road while cars pass by letting the heat of the breeze sweep through your hair. When the signal of your phone alerts you that your driver is close by, you aim your focus in the direction of a slowing vehicle, stunned by the countenance of a sharp jawline and rainbow colors dyed into bleach blonde strands.

The beauty you are about to behold is way out of your comfort zone, nor have you felt this attracted to an individual since your heart was obliterated a year ago. “Hi-hi,” you stutter once you enter the passenger side, the driver nods once with a smirk in tow, his button up snug to his frame, an earring dangling from his right ear.

“I’m Jimin,” he introduces, “Location still the bookstore in the city?”

“Yes please,” you are shocked you sound audible, but you return a timid smile while shoving some loose hair behind your reddening ear. The clean scent of lemon breaches past your nostrils while you try to maintain your composure, “I’m y/n, nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” soft music plays in the background, yet the only sense you tune into is the pounding in your temples. Pull yourself together, he is just a guy who drives a car, who will safely take you to the bookstore, no biggie, you will survive, there are more important things to- “So, as a fellow book lover, I must ask, what is your favorite story?”

Oof. Conversation to minimize the awkward way your shoulders tense at the mere thought of looking over at him, you rummage through the possible answers, struggling to gather your words in a timely manner. “Very hard question,” you gulp, “It’s like asking to choose your favorite song or movie. Too many stories to explore,”

“And never a time you will run out of adventure,”

Eyebrows shoot up in response, “Right,” you smile, “Sounds like you love a good adventure,”

“I will neither confirm nor deny,” a soft chuckle escapes past his plump lips while he keeps his gaze ahead on the traffic. “Have you resided here long?” Shifting nervously in your seat, you watch the buildings of the city closely in a way to avoid Jimin’s gaze without obviously melting.

“Only a year, made a split decision to move in with my sister. You?”

Jimin flits his stare for only a moment, “For a long while. My best friend and I are opening a bar not far from the bookstore, you should come sometime. Invite anyone and everyone you want.”

“I love me a good drink,” bravery enters your frame while you briefly scan the smooth skin of Jimin’s face. “Sounds like a plan.”

“Taehyung has a lot of success in his business, and this will be his fourth opening so celebration is a must. He has a lot of sponsors and connections, the main being Kim Seokjin,”

Gasping, you immediately turn to him, “You mean the actor Kim Seokjin? You’re kidding!”

Laughing, Jimin’s smile stretches to show pearly white teeth, “I will allow you to punch me if I am,”

Deep down you try to suppress the memory of your ex-boyfriend who had written a script in preparation to be read for a potential movie, one that would, in hopes, hire Kim Seokjin as the lead. Hoseok is talented in the writing department and had dreams of becoming a successful author, but you gladly dismiss the memory when Jimin pulls to park for you to exit.

“Here,” swiftly he pulls out a business card handing it to you with a friendly grin, “The opening is in a few weeks, will I see you there?”

“One hundred percent,” clutching the card in your hand, you wave before shutting the door, turning to face the bookstore to hide the fact you would prefer to stare at Jimin whose face will haunt you for the time being. For fucks sake, I need to get laid. As you desperately insert the card into your wallet, you pause. Nay! Male specimens suck, they all suck, my mother said the purpose of a male is to produce a child that I clearly am not ready to birth from the womb that is my pretty pink uterus. That bleeds. Monthly. Because I am not housing a fetus I- Ew. Maybe you’d rather be an aunt. Or have an ovariohysterectomy. Maybe your uterus would like to be taken out of the equation in general.

And now I need a coffee…. Shit.

Since when have you been this intimidated by a good-looking man? And when have you found any of your sporadic conscious entertaining? Therefore, you passionately believe in keeping your mouth shut when you’re on a tangent because humiliation is not in your vocabulary. Or… Is it? Also, you hate admitting how long it has been since you have even been kissed, much less caressed lovingly until you fell asleep. Is moving on from heartbreak too much to ask for? The heat of Hoseok’s kisses trailing your neck were enough to make you come undone, but his betrayal outweighs the good times- good times that evidently weren’t enough for him. Huffing in congruent with the squeezing of your shutting eyes, you step along the semi-crowded sidewalk where people mind their business enough to leave you alone. Your hand must have pressed against your stomach for a bit because you can still feel the presence of the touch before you subconsciously removed your palm.

The bookstore is a popular joint in your opinion. It stands four stories high with the fourth floor having a garden center where people can read and smell the perfumes of flowers in peace. Unfortunately, you are not in the best mood for getting lost in the lines of a tale considering you were too busy thinking about your erm, lady possessions, so you tread what you hope will be enough distraction until you feel satisfied enough to go home. It’s funny the curveballs life will throw at you especially when twists and turns decide to expose themselves in the unexpected ways everyone wishes will not happen unless it gleams nothing but happiness. Sadly, for some, the hits of negativity must spark lessons before one reaches the promise land, so when you make a turn into the alley way leading to a popular coffee shop, you do not anticipate the way your life is going to change. Nor do you fathom the string of events that are about to follow when you stumble upon a leathered frame, sucking in a puff of a cigarette while he flicks at his eyebrow shimmering with a piercing, leaning against the wall where he swallows roughly. Undercut freshly done, his nostrils release the smoke in what seems to be slow motion while you halt in place.

Holy shit.

Tattoos ornament the entirety of his knuckles and wrist alluding to the beginning of a sleeve that’s covered by the thick material of his jacket. For all you know, he may not be one to approach, yet the tug of your heart is so strong, you try with all your might to make the executive decision to return to the bookstore, but alas, it is too late. Brown irises glance to your frozen figure right when he takes another drag of the cigarette, lifting an eyebrow in evident interest while your jaw drops unintentionally. “I’m-I’m sorry,” you bow in tiny, “I didn’t see you there.” Cringing, you know damn well that you saw him, and he sees right through your little white lie.

“You’re fine,” he replies, studying your expression, tossing the cigarette to the ground to muffle it, “Not the best place for me to smoke, but it’s the least populated area,”

At a loss for words, you nod in response, the guy barely pushing off the wall to stand straighter, the smell of the cigarette lingering. “Well, I guess I’ll be going.” You say under your breath, walking with a mission toward the coffee shop to catch your breath. How in the world can somebody be that attractive? First Jimin, now this guy? Why hadn’t you moved to the city earlier? Uterus, it is not time to ovulate! It is not the time! The ding of the bell alerts your arrival to the staff, and you contemplate your order deciding to try a new flavor of coffee. Surprisingly, it is not nearly as busy as it typically is, so once you retrieve your order and pay, you search for a secluded table to descend into for some form of solitude. And, to recover from the interaction with the guy from the alley. You have never smoked a day in your life, but he made it seem so tempting, which in your case is nowhere near normal, so you shake the strange attraction from your mind as best as you can.

Sipping the hot liquid frequently, your sister has always teased that you delight in drinking coffee in the evenings, but it is your comfort go to especially when you need something to do, or to feel relaxed. The bell of the door echoes prompting the immediate noticing of whoever the customer is that entered. Swallowing abruptly, your heart leaps at the sight of the guy you literally saw fifteen minutes ago in the alley. A creeping blush spreads along your chest soon touching your cheeks to the point you wish you could hide. In a way, you attempt, sinking a smidge in your seat wondering if that will prevent him from noticing your presence.

Nice try.

Between the minimal number of customers and the efficiency of the employees, a tattooed hand linked to a coffee cup slides into the seat across from you, tilting his head curiously when you toss your sight to bask in the glory of his profound attraction. You are in so much trouble. “Hi, again,” you murmur, crossing your arms over your chest to hide the quivering of your cold fingers, and to tame the flipping of your ovaries. “Did I scare you enough to make you confront me?”

Smirking a breathy laugh, he takes a swig of his coffee, “I’m not scared of anything.”

“If not fear, what brings you to my table?”

Wetting his bottom lip, you are proud of your feigned courage, but you genuinely are shocked by his sudden presence. Did you leave an inadvertent impression? Quirking an eyebrow, a small smile remains on his lips, “A confession.”

“If it’s sweet talk, I’ll pass.”

Leaning forward to perch his elbows on the table, he folds his hands showing the tattoos you inwardly reveled in earlier, his head poises to the side while he presses his knuckles to his chin casually. “Bold of you to assume I was here to compliment you.”

“Ouch.” You deadpan. “But then again, my mother’s compliments are all that matter to me. Anything you say is irrelevant.”

“Oh,” gradually laying his intertwined fingers onto the table, he challenges with a stare that can make any human being melt into the wooden floor. Fuck. “Then I guess telling you that your shirt is inside out isn’t going to change anything.”

Gasping, your palms fly to your chest where you instantaneously look to see the lines of your t-shirt that clearly expose the fact that you indeed left the house with your shirt on wrong. It is not as embarrassing as one may think, but you were unaware of the food stain dazzling along the side of your boob. Which in this case, makes you blush harder knowing that his eyes may be lingering in an area where no man is welcome currently. But why do you lowkey indulge in the idea of him taking a moment to sweep you up and down? Get a fucking grip, y/n.

“Well,” you sporadically move to position yourself in the seat where the point out will no longer be as obvious, “I appreciate how observant you are, but at least it’s not the worst thing to discover. In public.”

Chuckling under his breath, he shrugs, “I agree. Just figured I’d inform you, otherwise, my intentions are pure.”

Scoffing, you cross your arms again, remaining comfortable in your chair, “That’s not suspicious at all.”

“If I wanted anything, I would have asked already.” He murmurs, “And I always get what I want.”

“Fearless and greedy,” you are vastly grateful that the uterus doesn’t make noises when it’s craving to house an infant, especially with a man as ballsy and gorgeous as the one before you. And why the hell are you even thinking of children at a time like this? Any other male specimen would have made this conversation creepy, but this guy is so alluring that it doesn’t seem to bother you in the least. “What’s your name, Cigs?”

He chokes mid-sip, “That’s a new one.”

“What’s the norm?”

“Do you really wanna know?”

“Not if it’s sexual.”

“Oooo, then I’ll never tell.”

“Pure, my ass.”

“I never said I was pure, milady, I said my intentions with you were pure.��

Eyeing him questionably, you stifle a jeer, “Not sure if that’s an insult, but I’ll take it.”

Smiling enough to where a glimpse of his teeth is seen, he reaches a hand forward, “I’m Jeongguk.”

“I’m y/n.” Kindly, you take his hand returning the greeting with a grin.

“And I find you extremely striking. I mean that with all sincerity.” Gently, he presses a warm kiss to the back of your knuckles before releasing your clammy hand. “Now go fix your shirt before my OCD destroys me.”

Groaning, your mind wants to focus on the sensation from his lips on your skin, but instead, in mild humiliation, you shake your head kiddingly while you mosey to the restroom. Remembering to bring your purse, you hadn’t realized you left your phone behind on the table next to your drink. Returning, you’re shocked to see that he’s left; your phone and coffee appear untouched, yet you feel the sting of disappointment for you enjoyed the bickering even though some may find it strange. It has been a while since you have been in proximity with a man of such nature, especially one whose features leave an imprint on every crevice of your brain.

The ride home holds nothing but thoughts of the lad who mysteriously approached you at your favorite coffee spot, mostly questions of wonderment of who he is. Jeongguk, sure, but what is his story? Shoving the thought past your mind, you enter your room once you arrive home and feed your cat, slipping into your pajamas and collapsing onto your bed releasing a long sigh. Slamming your palms to your face, the keen chirp of Kenai sounds as he pounces onto the bed, rubbing his head against your cheek until you split your fingers to peer at your cat lovingly. “You have already eaten, you brute. Let me simmer in sadness please.”

Eventually you give in, petting him before you find your eyelids heavily craving slumber. It is the next day when you awaken to sunshine pouring through the blinds casting dancing shadows upon your bedspread. Kenai’s fur tickles your cheek where he has cuddled cozily to you, which is the usual with your cat, and gazing fondly at your furry friend, you blindly pat your desk to grasp your phone to sneak a Snapchat. “Don’t you move, KiKi.” Angling the phone, you take a photo, posting to your story to show off how precious your animal is. You were so lucky when you found your cat. After the devastating blow to the chest a year prior, the first thing you did was visit a shelter not far from Monnie’s house in search of the first animal to win your heart.

In all honesty, they all did, but one look at the small fluff puff, pressing his paws against the glass, meowing for you to notice him was all it took. He purred the moment your hands wrapped around his small body, his cold nose sniffing along your face that was stained with tears. He was the little superhero besides your sister that you needed to find some form of healing. Kenai hasn’t left your side, and he refuses to. You never knew a cat could love you so much, even on the nights you wake up with him sprawled across your trachea. His love may be smothering, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Kissing the side of his head, his sleepy eyes remain out the window where birds zip past to distract him. Throwing the covers off you, the number one thing you do is brush your teeth, changing into your work clothes, and tying your hair up out of your vision. Kenai eventually follows you with all the hopes of getting his breakfast which you prepare, and before shuffling into your tennis shoes, you check your phone where your eyes enlarge to the rising beat of your heart.

Jeongguk is typing….

“What the hell?” You mouth. The guy from yesterday added you on Snapchat? How? The only thing you can think is your phone happened to be unlocked unless he was able to open the picture app to scan his Snapchat code. Either way, you are not wanting to admit how pleasantly surprised you are, and when the familiar tone of the Snapchat alerts his official message, you hold yourself back from replying to him too quickly.

It's an exuberantly strange feeling, how giddy one can become all because of a mere message of someone where their interest lies. And the nervous tingles at the bottom of your stomach ignite as you ponder every and any scenario involving the mysterious lad. You have yet to reply, nor do you have any clue what to expect, but you deeply hold nothing but genuine curiosity of how this may play out. Will he be interested in you? Are you ready for someone to be interested in you? That may be the more accurate question. Hoseok hurt you beyond words, but will Jeongguk do the same if you do end up finding him enchanting? What if he doesn’t think you are enough? With all the women in the world, it seems that you can’t hold a guy down enough to seem worth it. Stop it. Wincing, you grit your teeth knowing the negativity needs to end now. Of course, you are enough. You have always been enough, and nobody should make you doubt otherwise. “Anyone who doesn’t see the good in you is at a loss. You are literally the epitome of kindness,” Monnie’s words repeat in your head, uplifting you enough to focus your mind on other matters. Like, preparing your brain cells for the workday ahead.

Finicking with your uniformed red vest, you greet a fellow coworker with a smile, “Good morning, LenLen! Is it five o’clock yet?”

Giggling, LenLen’s face lights up at your question as she finishes folding a pair of jeans to set upon a display. “It is somewhere.”

“Good point,” walking the isles of the store to tidy up the shelves, you can’t help but wonder if it has been long enough since Jeongguk messaged you. Giving it another ten minutes to ensure the coast is clear of customers, you sneak into the breakroom, unlocking your phone to see what he said. You are appalled at yourself for being so consumed in the fact that a guy you just met has taken time out of his day to reach out to you and you wish you could maintain your cool.

‘Dude, your cat looks just like my hellion, Flounder.’

Smiling at what you have read, you click to save the message, so you don’t forget what is being talked about once you exit the snapchat, and you are nearly losing your mind when Jeongguk’s Bitmoji appears a few seconds after you start typing. Uncertain of what else to say, you respond with, ‘Prove it.’ GAH! You grimace, that’s what you have to say? Prove it? Beating yourself up, you forget to breathe the moment the red icon shows that Jeongguk has sent a picture of what you are assuming is his cat. Opening it with the click of your thumb, you are amazed how identical Flounder and Kenai are even considering they could be potential siblings, what a small world right? ‘First off, LOVE the name’, you reply, also realizing you are blushing because also within the picture, a side profile of Jeongguk shows that he is smiling.

Knowing you will have to return to the floor soon, you decide to let Jeongguk send at least one more message before you have to be a responsible adult. ‘Right? It was either Sushi, Tuna, or Sardine, but I thought Flounder would be more fitting and unique. Tetra is my other cat and she’s the worst about stealing my food.’

‘Sounds like Kenai can finally make some friends! And attempt to steal a morsel alongside.’

Typing out the message, you hesitate to send, but with the shared love of felines you honestly feel as though Jeongguk will not overanalyze your reply. Anxious for lunch break, you handle the hours with ease, conversing with LenLen from time to time to figure out who has done what on the chores list. LenLen speaks of a guy that she met recently, with a square jawline and hair as curly as a bowl of ramen noodles, yet his bright smile is what drew her to him. You talk of how happy you are for her and hope for the best, chickening out to tell her about Jeongguk, especially with it being, in your opinion, extremely too soon to mention.

Retrieving your food, you hide away in the breakroom where your eyes immediately glue to your cellular device anticipating whatever Jeongguk has said. ‘Hell yeah, my babies would love that, they do very well with other animals, surprisingly. Hey, sorry I left so soon yesterday, something came up.’

‘It takes a bit for Kenai to warm up, but he will adapt just fine. All he cares about is his stomach being full. No need to apologize, I totally get it.’ Eyebrows furrowed; you can’t help the wonder of what made him leave so soon. Also, you are not one to press further, if he wants to explain himself then he will. Otherwise, you hope that everything is okay with him.

It has only been a few days when you enter the coffee shop again, making it obvious that it indeed is your favorite, and you are shocked the employees don’t know you by name yet. Or so you assume. It is when you see Jeongguk taking a sip of his drink searching for an empty table, your heart leaps as if on cue. You are starting to assume that maybe he is a recent frequenter of this same coffee shop too. Why else have you seen him twice in the span of a few days? You’ve never noticed him here before this week, so now you wonder if he recently moved to the city. His leather jacket hugs his frame as his hair is styled to his liking. You hardly notice the way your mouth waters instinctively and you snap back into focus when you are next in line.

Pretending you didn’t notice Jeongguk, you decide to find a seat a short distance away just in case by some chance he acknowledges you. With coffee in hand, you pick a spot and not even sixty seconds later, you hear the familiar click notification of someone typing on Snapchat. Jittery, which you wish wasn’t so obvious, you carefully reach for your phone seeing: Jeongguk is typing… lighting the screen. Without thinking, you immediately lift your gaze to see him staring at you, a mischievous smirk gracing his pink lips.

Just for his delight, you play along spinning some storybook thought that you two are forbidden lovers hiding from the community by texting instead of speaking to one another in person. Get a grip, y/n, you scold yourself mentally. Opening the message, it reads: may I join you in coffee matrimony?

Shaking your head along with a breathy laugh to his cheesy statement, you respond with a pun, only if you keep me brewing, Tatts!

The creak of his chair echoes as he slides it back. Shyly, you hold his stare, watching him and his thick boots walk to settle into the chair across from you. “Clever,” he muses, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table. Strands of his hair fall at the outer corners of his eyes, and you breathe in the faint scent of his cologne. This time, you do not get a whiff of any cigarettes, so you question if he’s even had one today. “If you’re not careful,” he deliberates, “I might have to show you what it’s like to get creamed.”

“Hm.” Arching an eyebrow, you catch on to his game, and if he wasn’t so damn alluring, you wouldn’t even give this conversation another thought with anybody else, “You better hope it tastes as sweet as sugar.” He doesn’t expect you to say that. He may have had women fall hopelessly at his feet, and as much as you feel you might be the next one, you definitely aren’t going to show it. Not right now.

“I hear that the ladies like it steamy.”

“Or iced,” you shrug nonchalantly. Ice play has always been a curiosity of yours, but he doesn’t have to know that. When he doesn’t seem to come up with another pun, you chew the corner of your lip before you lean onto the table yourself, inching as close as you can that the table between you two will allow. “Tell me, Boots, how is it… that a guy with this tough exterior can be so delicately precious about his cats?”

He gestures with his hands. “What can I say? I have to set a good example.”

You harrumph humorously. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

He feigns surprise. “You think I am incapable of being a good role model to my children?”

“Oh please. All you have to do is keep their food bowls filled to the brim and you’ve already won dad of the year.”

Jeongguk winks, bringing his hands together to interlace his fingers reminding you of the tattoos you wish you can visualize more. “Easy peasy lemon squeezy,” he smirks.

You have a hard time breaking his gaze, but you clear your throat when it lingers a bit too long. “Anyways,” you attempt to change the subject, “I hope all is well.” You’re really hinting about why he left so suddenly the last time but knowing men do not always pick up on hints, you know you will accept whether he gets what you mean or not.

“Seeing that you put your clothes on right today, my OCD hasn’t been triggered.”

“Happy to see I’ve made a difference in your life.” You playfully sneer.

“It’s the little things that count.”

You feel your uterus squeeze. How the fuck is he so damn attractive for? “I’ll keep that in mind every time I dress.” You say it too quickly without thinking, your cheeks glimmering blood red. He quirks an eyebrow tauntingly.

“I can always help.”

“Nice try, Cigs.”

Except… You want him to try. That itching desire travels through your chest, and you wonder maybe… just maybe, you can get his help. Not necessarily with getting dressed because you swear you are competent to do so, but… maybe he can cure the curse of loneliness, even if it’s just for the moment. You want to deny that you hope it will be much more than just this moment. You can’t explain any of this. Are you trying to impress him?

Uncrossing your ankles underneath the table, you do slide your feet forward taking the tip of your boot to tickle up his leg and you can’t help the smirk that graces your lips when he sucks in a hiss. There’s a tad bit of space on the chair where you place your boot, gracefully taking your other foot to nestle on the other side of his hips. You don’t know what is taking over you, but it’s divine, and now you can’t stop yourself especially with his eyes tempting for you to continue. “I’m gonna need help with more than-”

“How’s it going?”

You jolt, boots slamming to the ground when your wide eyes shoot to see a smiling employee who clearly is going from table to table to check on customers. Stammering, you lick your lips while Jeongguk tries not to laugh in response to your sudden shock. “Goo-good!” You plaster a wide smile while the employee bows swiftly to then waltz to the next table as if they didn’t intrude on your façade to win over this incredibly attractive man across from you. Fuck, you grimace. How embarrassing.

When coffees are finished and downed in clumsy silence, you reach for a stick of gum, offering Jeongguk a piece so you don’t feel so insecure about the coffee breath. He offers to walk you home, but you tell him the bookstore is where you plan to be next. You’re not ready to go home because home is where you will replay the humiliation of what just happened repeatedly. You need a distraction.

Side by side, the pair of you set off down the alley, your nerves still shooting through your limbs while anxiety of what to talk about tackles your brain cells. You’re really trying to forget already, but it’s too fresh to just repress. Maybe there is a sliver of comfort with the silence, but of course, you overthink that as well because when do you not overthink?

You know what? You saw the pleasure in his eyes, there wasn’t a smidge of doubt in his expression when his body responded to you in the coffee shop. Noting that the alley is empty, you take the opportunity. If he wasn’t the slightest bit into you, he wouldn’t be adamant on making sure you arrive to your next location safely. But you need to think fast before you exit the alley. “Cigs!” You blurt. He stops the second you do. The gravel beneath his boots being the last sound you hear before adrenaline takes over.

Your hands grip the front of his leather jacket and when he clues in, as if rehearsed, his large hands grasp your hips, walking you backwards until your back gently bumps against the brick building. His gaze is intense as if preparing you what you are asking for while your mouth parts in yearning for whatever he is about to do. He over towers you, and your eyes never move even when his palms slide to your waist, his shaky exhales leaving his nostrils. His lips are pressed together. When you think he’s about to kiss you, he slams his eyes shut, shifting nothing but his forehead to lean to yours as your eyes flutter closed. Waiting.

Tingles resonate across your skin and the longing is immensely strong, you don’t want to hold back. You hadn’t realized that the back of your hands are against the brick wall as if you have surrendered to him. In a way, you have. The seconds feel like minutes, and when you think he will finally connect with your body, he pulls away. His hands ghost your waist.

For some reason, you keep your eyes closed. His lips then brush warmly to your forehead and with that, you hear the crunch of his footsteps disappearing as he did the first time you met. Your eyes peel open, and it’s like Jeongguk is a figment of your imagination because now:

he’s gone.

-

You never expected to hear from him again, but as days pass, it’s crazy how one person can enrapture the entirety of your thoughts even with the distractions from work because Jeongguk has mastered it for you. And that is how it has been the rest of the week, giddily waiting on his every text and enjoying every bit of the conversations shared between you two as if the sexual tension in the alley never happened. Eagerly, you toss and turn at night due to the cycle of daydreams rehearsing in your mind rent free, but you can’t help yourself, you love to imagine the possibilities of a real adventure with someone you want to spend time with again. If it ever happens.

“You’re glowing.” Monnie’s eyes squint as you grin away to the kitchen, opening the refrigerator for an electrolyte drink.

“I… cleansed my face?”

“No, it’s not that.”

Teasingly scoffing, you take a swig of your drink, “I... am… expecting?”

“Nice try,”

You nearly choke on the second sip, “C’mon, it’s not that impossible. You don’t know my schedule.”

“I know it enough to know that you haven’t missed a birth control shot since you became physically intimate, and that was practically decades ago.”

“You can just say sex you know,” you retaliate, “And for your information, I had sex last year.”

“Yeah, practically decades ago.”

“Fine. Ten or so excruciatingly long years ago, I had sex.”

“So, in conclusion, you are not with child.”

“Yet,” you ploy, letting Monnie glare at you as she slowly steps out of the kitchen. Who are you kidding? You don’t have time for kids, and you know it. Despite what your uterus wants, you do have to find a stable time to want to produce so for now, you shall wait until the time is right. Hence, why you remain on birth control until you know for sure. Otherwise, life goes on as always. Besides… you do recall the last time you had sex. And… it wasn’t with Hoseok. A secret you will take to your grave if you have to. A secret that happened one drunken night weeks after you and Hoseok broke up. And, you never went back hence why it has been a year since you’ve had sex.

You had guilt as if you cheated on Hoseok even though you did not in fact. Either way, you throw the memory into the depths of your mind and try to force yourself to forget how plush the man’s lips felt along your skin. Instead, you replace it with the brief kiss Jeongguk left on your forehead which feels so out of reach.

During the time of messaging back and forth, one evening, Jeongguk offers to call you due to an atrocious event happening at your workplace that you and LenLen got involuntarily involved in. A customer apparently read a sales sign wrong and didn’t realize it until checkout and no matter how much you and your coworker tried explaining things, the customer was not having it which leaves you to call a manager. Overall, it was a situation that unfolded that you honestly wished didn’t hover in your brain cells, but when Jeongguk calls so you can rant, it means the world.

“You are quite attractive and that’s one hundred percent a compliment, and I’m not one to just throw those around to male specimens.” You confess after long conversation. It’s like you moved on from the awkward interactions. Plus, you convince yourself that you came on too strong the last time you saw him.

He snickers on the other line and vividly you imagine his smile, tickling your tummy like the beating wings of multiple butterflies. “Why, thank you. You definitely have my attention, too, ya know.”

“Well…’ You press the knuckle of your thumb to your bottom lip for a second, “That’s very sweet of you to say.”

“And you also deserve to be respected. I’m sorry the customer gave you and your friend such a hard time. If retail is no longer what you want to do, my stepbrother owns a well-known bookstore. I remember you mentioning your love for books at one point and I’m sure he will offer good pay.”

“You would do that for lil’ ole’ me?”

Chuckling lightly, “Anybody with a smart mouth like yours needs a break too.”

“Oh shucks,” though he can’t see it, your cheeks flush a hot shade of red. “Consider me interested! I may give the store some more time since I don’t want to leave LenLen stranded so abruptly, otherwise, I might put in an application just cause.”

“I’ll keep my stepbrother posted.”

You thank him before you decide to head to bed, dazed on cloud nine as you hang up the phone.  

-

It doesn’t matter how busy you are, the second you see the:  Jeongguk is typing…. Notification it’s:

Halt. Stop everything and scramble to unlock the phone screen. Breathe. He is just a guy. He is just a dude with tattoos. Okay, must read message in sixty seconds to not seem desperate. Force yourself to Google search ‘kittens’ to distract your frantic desire to reply immediately to his every text. Does it work? Partially.

So…. I was wondering, would you happen to be off in the next few days? It’s been a minute.

Double take. Eyes enlarged. No way. Inhale. Release. Slowly but clearly, you reread the Snapchat message as if your life depends on it. How long has it been since you two have been messaging back and forth? Maybe a few weeks? But how should you respond? Maybe not as excited so you don’t appear deprived? Or seem super excited so that he knows you are most definitely wanting to meet up? You were super proud of yourself with how contained you stayed when he called you however long ago. Nay, appear neutral. Come across dainty with a sprinkle of bad ass, that’ll get him…. Right? Okay, maybe not.

Funny you ask because I happen to be off today. Send. You squeal internally. You genuinely can’t help how stoked you are in seeing him; the next question is, what is his idea of fun aside from the coffee shop? You are honestly up for anything even if it’s admiring the night sky on a roof with glasses of wine. Or, admiring his tattoos and him explaining the meanings of each one. You have always wanted to get a tattoo yourself but have yet to decide not only what to get but when the right time will be. As with anything, you want the first time to be special. That’s what she said, as you roll your eyes at yourself. Your uterus sure likes to talk, and you really hope you can keep yourself tame once you see him again because a year of no intimacy is already hard enough; and you atrociously hate admitting that you sometimes become lonely for a partner even though healing this past year has been a roller coaster. Even trying to avoid the temptation to reach out… to the last man you entangled with.

Shuddering with guilt, you stroll to the kitchen upon waiting for Jeongguk’s response, and you notice beneath a magnet the card the driver, Jimin, had given you forever ago. The day you met Jeongguk. Carefully shifting it out from under the magnet, an idea does form. Maybe Jeongguk would like to meet you there at the opening. Does he seem like a ‘bar’ type kinda guy? Oh. You wince. What does that even mean? Who doesn’t like a bar setting with a few beers? Plus, it’s been a while since you’ve been to one so why not?

Well today is our lucky day for I happen to have the next 12 hours to find something fun to do. Whaddya say about joining me?

Bring it on, Cigs. You respond and despite the nervous jitters, you type more after the initial message you sent. I actually promised to go to an opening of a new bar that happens to be tonight. If I send the address, would you like to meet me there?

When he asks for the time and where, you send the information. You will get to see him tonight. Now all you can do is panic about what to wear and if you even have anything to wear for the occasion.

Fantastic.

-

Quivering fingers amidst clammy palms slide across the tops of your thighs while you steadily breathe. You, being the early bird that you are, arrive at the bar a few minutes earlier than what you mentioned to Jeongguk. The last you heard from him was when you both finalized the plan. To calm the nerves, you definitely need a drink. A strong one. Your maroon dress clings to your frame the way you like, and you made sure your make up was exactly how you like it to be.. You haven’t felt this confident since you left your ex. And you hope this proves that you never need a man to help you dress.

You ordered a cab to get there so you didn’t have to worry about driving, and you figure if you and Jeongguk still hit it off in person as you do through messaging, then maybe he can make sure you get home safely. So, you hope. Maybe even make up for lost time since the alley.

Sending a quick message to let Jeongguk know you have arrived; your eyes observe your surroundings, and you don’t see him anywhere just yet. Maybe he is stuck in traffic? You wonder. If he is driving, obviously he shouldn’t message you, so you show your ID to the bouncer after standing in line for a few minutes letting the uneasiness settle.

Bodies are scattered among the floor as music blares throughout the building. Laughter and the smell of alcohol is the first thing that comes to your nostrils while your eyes trail for some familiar faces if any happen to be here. Colorful flashing lights wave over the tables, walls, and chairs while people dance continuously, and you really hope despite the overall dim lighting you recognize Jeongguk the second he walks in. Regardless, you search for Jimin since he is the one who invited you, but you haven’t seen him thus far.

Swallowing down the nerves, you squeeze through the crowd until you reach the bar, asking for something strong for you to sip on until Jeongguk arrives. It’s been about ten minutes once your drink is in your hand, and when you check your phone, Jeongguk still hasn’t read the message. You contemplate phoning him, but know it’s too loud to try, so you assure yourself he will be here. You have full confidence that he will call you if he is running late. Which… technically at this point he should have called you by now.

To divert yourself from the sinking feeling, you watch the bustles of people having the time of their lives when a particular human being causes your shoulders to stiffen and your mouth to run dry. Flashbacks of that night flicker in your mind as a weary sense of dread subdues you. The secret you have kept concealed from the world. Stay calm, y/n. Remain. Calm. You hardly remember how you got there, but you noticed how handsome he was, how his hair was loosening from the gel, and his smile put you at ease as you two laughed together. He was drunk, too, but both of you were still aware enough to know what was happening. What was stirring between you two. All you held onto was how he was the first to make you laugh in weeks during that time.

You knew you shouldn’t have been there, but you didn’t care, and you were desperate to feel something. Freshly single and overruled by anger, you let it win. When you kissed him for the first time, he froze, and you pulled away. But he held your eyes, flitting between them without a single word. Instead, he leaned forward and kissed you back, and you remember the way his palm felt on your cheek. The way the kisses grew aggressive and emotional as if he felt the guilt from keeping the secret buried from you. Knowing his best friend was in the wrong for what he did to you, but he knew it wasn’t his place to tell you the truth. But boy, had you made it your place to entangle with this guy who was giving into what his emotions were displaying. He wanted you to feel special. It was like his kisses brought an apology you wished your ex would have given you.

So, in a strange yet erotic way, you let it all go with him. Drunken, slovenly kisses until the pair of you started to sober up enough to experiment further. You can’t remember much of the foreplay, but you do, however, remember when he pressed himself into you, riding smoothly as he kissed every inch of your face and your neck. His hands didn’t exactly know where to touch, but his lips did, and that was enough. He moved in you so gently.

When you had awaken the next morning, you laid flat on your back while tears streamed from the corners of your eyes. You don’t know how long you remained there. You don’t know how long you silently cried. But you left before he woke up. You left before you both had to take in account of what you two had done. What you two had shared.

Now here he is in the present.

Kim Namjoon, Hoseok’s best friend, is here, and he spots you almost as immediately as you spot him. Gulping, you do not know what else to do other than spin around immediately and face the bar contemplating to chug every ounce of the alcohol remaining in your glass. Setting your drink down cautiously to not spill the contents, a rear of nausea raises its ugly head. What is Namjoon doing here!? The last time you saw him was the night you would do anything to forget.

Heart hammering, you squeeze your eyes closed. Namjoon may have given you a good night to hold on to for a while a year ago, but it wasn’t anything more than that. It couldn’t be. You were full of anger and a brief desire of revenge, and you were drunk, and you were-

Large hands lean upon the counter of the bar on either side of you as you suck in a breath. You recognize those hands. Those hands are the ones that slid along your body while you pleaded for more. And the countenance of his frame over towers you as you feel the tip of his lips centimeters from your ear kindling goosebumps along your arms. But these hands aren’t the hands you’ve been waiting for. Not one tattoo shows on these hands.

“Long time, no see.” Namjoon says into your ear. Mustering enough courage after steadying yourself, you turn to face him for the first time in a year. His eyes are as filled with longing as they were the night you last saw him. The kind of longing that wonders of how you feel about what occurred. If you still ponder it.

“What are you doing here!?” You say amongst your trembling body. You try to stay firm though you know deep down none of this was Namjoon’s fault. Trying to set your jaw, you take in the way his shirt tugs at his muscles, and the way his hair is gelled to perfection. You have forgotten how beautiful this man is, but Jeongguk. Where the literal fuck is Jeongguk? He is who you want deep down. So where is he? “Never mind that,” you shake your head, realizing he has every right to be here as you do. “What do you want?”

Namjoon’s eyes flicker along your face momentarily before he speaks. The way his dominant gaze holds you in place could drive any woman mad. “To make sure you’re okay.”

“Oh bullshit.” You say through gritted teeth because not only is Namjoon’s proximity bringing unwanted emotions, but it is also bringing the memories of Hoseok. Memories you really have tried not to relive.

Namjoon’s eyes squeeze shut. “y/n, I’m being serious. You fell off the face of the earth since…”

“Since what? Since Hoseok? Or you?” His mouth shuts automatically. “I don’t know what you expect me to say. What happened that night… It was my fault. I know that, but it shouldn’t have happened.” The anger for even saying Hoseok’s name after so long of refusing to is a strange feeling. Namjoon swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and you visibly see the guilt in his eyes because he agrees. Hoseok has been his best friend since they were kids. “How long had you known by the way? About the other girl? Who is she?” He releases a sigh, shaking his head while he tilts his gaze downward in shame. He knows. Of course, he does. He’s refusing to answer the question, but you ask another one anyway. You know it’s too loud to whisper, and from your peripheral, you may have gained a few stares, but you raise your voice just enough for Namjoon to hear. “Does… he know?”

“That we fucked?” Namjoon answers quickly, his eyes locking with yours. “Of course not.” He’s not going to risk losing his friendship is what you are reading between the lines.

“Good.” You refuse to move your gaze. “Keep it that way. Please.” He’s still so close. And you breathe in his scent. Your hand brushes his chest, while your forehead touches to his chin. Both of you share a silent understanding. A pact.

Namjoon is about to say more but you politely shove his arm out of your way ignoring his reach to stop you. You’re scared that you will give in to the thought of him from all these emotions. Whatever he has to say, he can keep it to himself. For now. You need to catch your breath.

Checking your phone, Jeongguk still hasn’t read your message and at this point, you have no idea of where he is or why he even bothered agreeing to show up if he truly had no intentions of seeing you again. Maybe you should have known better. He has the bad boy persona just from his stature, but maybe for once you wanted to believe you could get excited about someone again. Maybe he was the distraction you hoped for and needed, and now that your nerves are shot, and your heart is aching from all the emotions, you’ll do anything at this point to rid of it all.

Regretfully forgetting your drink at the bar and realizing after you move to another section of the place, you happen to see Jimin whose face lights up with recognition. Air escapes your lungs yet again because you forgot how attractive he is too. You notice he has been conversing with none other than Kim Seokjin which makes you want to faint since he is so famous and you have yet to meet a famous person, but for right now, despite the tears wanting to spill down your cheeks from the interaction with Namjoon and the acceptance that Jeongguk will not be showing up after all, you are so thankful that Jimin is making his way towards you. Until your emotions settle, you cannot risk humiliating yourself in front of a celebrity of Seokjin’s status. It would be too much.

Your jaw almost drops though when you catch a sudden glimpse of your coworker LenLen who is snug against a man with fluffy hair a short distance away, and you realize that this must be the man she’s been talking to you about! You tell yourself that you will make sure to say hey to her if you get the chance. It’s about time other conversation is shared that is not related exclusively to work.

“Hey there!” Jimin smiles fully, bringing your muddled mind back to attention. He leans in for a quick hug before pulling away. “You look amazing!”

Blushing, you feel where his fingers stop at your elbows. He has such a kind aura about him that makes you feel safe, so you hope he invites you to hang out, especially since LenLen happens to be in the group Jimin has been socializing with from your quick assumptions. “You look good, too!” You feel like you’re shouting, but you don’t care. You are somewhat relieved to finally have somebody to hang out with no matter how quick it lasts. “How is the opening going? Everything go according to plan?”

“Hell, yeah it has!” Jimin beams. “Taehyung is beyond happy with the results. The line outside is insanity!”

“So happy for you both!” You say, and before you think you may have some form of solace, you wonder where Namjoon is or if he miraculously left, but instead of him, you notice someone else. And you beg the heavens on why you can’t seem to catch a break.

Heart shattering to the floor, your eyes widen, and if Jimin is chatting, you definitely can’t hear him over the loud pounding of your heart in your temples. Is this the real reason Namjoon approached you? That he tried to stop you? To warn you?  

If the forbidden person you are frozen by sees you, you don’t care, you need a reason for his heart to break. Something worse than him finding out that you slept with his best friend if he ever does. Hoseok pauses the moment he sees you standing there; a strange look of confusion dawns him instantly as his eyes look from you to Jimin and back. You can’t help the way your gaze automatically drifts to see if you find her, too. The girl he chose over you, but you do not see a female near him. Not yet. You tell yourself that you never want to know who she is, but there is always that sick vengeance of discovering.

Jimin’s eyebrow arches as he follows your gaze. Whether he knows Hoseok or not, that part is the least of your concerns. Jeongguk stood you up, Namjoon confronted you, and your ex-boyfriend who you loved for three years that relentlessly ripped your heart out of your chest- is here and it is too overwhelming to describe right now the full-blown panic shredding every fiber of your being; the utter disbelief how this shit show of a night has unfolded. You wish you were drunk enough to ignore this inexplainable pain. You wish you had a place to escape to.

But… Maybe Jimin is it. If Jeongguk didn’t want to be, then maybe Jimin will.

Despite his furrowed eyebrows, when Jimin turns just enough to look at you, it’s all it takes. Briskly, you cup his face, pressing a kiss to his cloud-like lips while he stumbles in surprise. Relief floods your quivering frame when he doesn’t even remotely hesitate to kiss you back. His lips are enticingly soft and pure, and he tilts his head to deepen the kiss letting the tip of his tongue brush yours ever so slightly. He tastes of peppermint and booze, and he tastes so good, you get tipsy just off his lips. You move your hands to lock behind his neck while his fingers find a hold on your waist. “Well damn,” he says breathless against your lips while peppering short kisses in between his words. “If I would have known, I would have done this much sooner.”

Gripping loose strands on the back of his head, you lift onto the tips of your toes. “You won’t regret it,” you purr into Jimin’s ear, gaze tauntingly floating to stare right into Hoseok’s, whose eyes widen in enormous shock, before Jimin pins you to his frame as if your clothes are a barrier he wishes didn’t exist. Everywhere is too crowded to really notice the way you two lock lips for majority of the evening. And you are well aware that you two are not the only ones making out.

You know Hoseok is watching every second, probably fuming, probably balling his fists, probably justifying every reason he has to interrupt. You hope he is watching every grip of Jimin’s fingers on your ass, the way his lips suck your neck, or the way he twirls your body under the spotlight if a song he likes comes on. You know the jealousy that’s bubbling beneath Hoseok’s chest is about to erupt. But he also knows better than to intervene between the woman he betrayed and who he is assuming to be her new boyfriend. Because it’s too late. You wouldn’t take him back even if he begged. Because whoever she is out there, she knows what she did to you, too. How she couldn’t even show her face when Hoseok burst onto the porch the day you found out. How her breasts were rounded beneath Hoseok’s shirt. The shirt you painfully remembered was missing when you finally had a moment where your emotions didn’t get the best of you. She had that shirt the entire time.

You hadn’t planned to invite Jimin over. The night drives on and you see that Jeongguk at this point, indeed, read your message, but didn’t bother to respond. Didn’t bother to even make an excuse. To explain why he left you to unintentionally fend for yourself. He could have been here. He could have saved you from tonight if he wanted to. But he didn’t.

You hop into Jimin’s car willingly and he drives you home, kissing you and kissing you while your clothes hit the bedroom floor. Jimin slides on a condom before he pushes into you from behind when your body pins to the wall, him pounding as if to the beat of a song while his teeth dig into your shoulder, into your neck. “Deeper!” You squeal. “Keep going, ah-!”

You do not care about the sounds that have echoed from either of your mouths or the number of positions you two have attempted. You lost count after four. You don’t care that you just met him a few weeks ago. You don’t care how you are going to feel in the morning. Yes, you are aware that you are sober this time. But you want Jimin to keep moving inside you until you forget about your one-night stand with your ex’s best friend. Till you forget about Hoseok’s betrayal that haunts your mind and shreds your heart. Till you forget about the girl who took part in ruining your life. Till you forget about the tattooed man who you hoped would rescue you.

Cigs.

Fuck you, Cigs.

-

The morning comes quickly coupled with a pounding headache while you groggily stretch your arms and legs amidst the tangled bed sheets. You accidentally brush warm skin causing you to jolt upright. Wincing, the pounding in your head worsens, yet you turn just enough to assess that you one hundred percent just hooked up with the hot driver who co-owns a bar and is best friends with a celebrity.

Fuck.

Your palms slap to your face. You weren’t even intoxicated, so how could you let this happen? You may not have been drunk off your ass, but you sure as hell were emotional and that can be equally as dangerous as taking shots of the strongest alcoholic beverage out there. “Shit,” you murmur to yourself, watching the slow fall and rise of Jimin’s breathing. Kenai chirps outside your bedroom door and you realize it is probably past his breakfast time. Slipping out of bed as quietly as you can, you freshen up and brush your teeth. Twice. Just in case if you ultimately decide to continue this rendezvous before you kick Jimin out.

Shuddering, you wonder how loud you might have been last night. And by that you mean, was your sister home? And did she hear the commotion you let out the second you got Jimin alone? If she was home maybe, you could handle that truth. What also concerns you is if Yoongi was home too. You couldn’t bear facing the two of them if they were home while you tackled Jimin like a football player between the sheets.

Oh, when will all this humiliation end!? You want to scream outwardly. It’s been never ending. And, when you start to dress into a nightgown, you finger at the red mark on your shoulder. A reminder of where Jimin had been. And you hate that you like it.

Leaving the bathroom trying to rid the thought, you see Jimin is fully awake and putting on his shirt, his pants already hugging his toned legs. His hair is unkempt from the night before, and it looks cuter that way with his array of colors dyed with the blonde. “Hey there,” he smiles brightly when he sees you. You notice him pop a piece of gum in his mouth which you figure is because he never planned to bring a toothbrush… Because he hadn’t planned to sleep with anybody until you ferociously pounced.

“Hey,” You reply softly, crossing your arms to lean against the door frame of the bathroom. Kenai is still meowing outside the bedroom, frequently pawing at the door.

“Somebody’s pissed.” Jimin chuckles, pointing at the door.

“He’s starving 24/7 and likes to remind me just as often.” You kid, eventually stepping to sit on the bed. You aren’t sure how to feel about last night. But at the same time, should you regret it? The way Jimin’s eyes swept your body, to be honest, you kind of don’t regret it. “How did you sleep?” You try to make small talk to prevent any uneasy friction.

“Wonderfully.” He smiles again. “I hope you did?” He stands, rounding the bed to gently take a seat next to you. The smell of mint from his gum wafting to you tempting you to taste it.

“I did.” You return his smile, leaning in to touch a small kiss to his plush lips. Your headache is starting to dull some which makes you feel better. “Thank you for last night. I had fun.” You lean your forehead against his cheek as he leans back into you.

“I had fun, too.” He says quietly. Taking in a deep breath, he stands as you follow suit. “I better get going. Taehyung has been blowing up my phone wondering where I am. Really, I mean it when I say I had fun. Maybe… we can link up again soon?”

Hand in hand, you lead him to the front door while Kenai excitingly runs his furry body against both of your legs. Giggling, you kiss Jimin some more, “I’d like that.” A couple more kisses and you smile against his lips, “See ya.”

“See ya.” He nods, kissing your cheek one last time before taking off. As much as you wish that your heart would be soaring through the sky: it doesn’t. All your head can seem to obsess over is why Jeongguk stood you up. Was it all a game? Just to get a high that a girl wanted him, just for him to leave her stranded. What gives? In the end, is it really worth the explanation? You are so sick of getting screwed over.

“Who was that?”

“GAH!” You jump causing Kenai to dash wherever he can to hide. Your heart nearly stopped beating and your hand flies to your chest with relief when you see the teasing stare of your sister, Monnie.

“Monnie! For goodness sakes, you scared the fuck out of me!”

“Well!?” Monnie, not missing a beat, bellows. “Who was he!?”

“Nobody.” That is your first response as if you need a defense mechanism.

“Nobody!? With the animalistic sounds I heard last night, you have the absolute nerve to tell me that was nobody!?”

“He’s… He’s a guy I met a few weeks ago,” you try to reply while your heartbeat attempts to calm.

“He is cute,” she coos. “Like smooth like butter cute. Like the butter you slab on a piece of crisp toast cute. He can make anybody feel warm and fuzzy. Girl, I’m telling you right now-”

“Okay, we get it! I know.” You aren’t sure how to cope with the chagrin reddening your cheeks, or the dulling headache on top of it, but you manage somehow. “Please tell me Yoongi isn’t here.”

“Lucky for you he’s at a conference and has been since yesterday afternoon, so he didn’t hear a thing. I was supposed to go but I got-” She mimics what is supposed to be a cough into her hand. “Sick.”

“Oh! You are ridiculous!”

“It’s called, my sister brought home a cute guy for the first time in a decade, and I must hear all about it.”

“Nope!” You say trying to brush past her. “By the way, it’s only been a year.”

“Not anymore-!”

“Gah!” You clap back, slamming your bedroom door, and diving onto your bed, the mattress bounces your body while you scream heavily into a pillow. The scent of Jimin is everywhere in your room still and your sister’s voice keeps rattling on about how she just wants you to be happy and that you deserve to be even though in your heart, you have no idea when that day will come. Eventually you will confide in her about everything, but for now you will bury your face into the pillow and let the tears flow until you fall back asleep.

-

Monnie reluctantly gives you space, but only because she has ‘somewhere to be,’ and she is ‘not going to let you make her late.’ So, she says. You give Kenai an extra bit of food in hopes to win back his forgiveness and you dress out of the nightgown considering another trip to the coffee shop. Your eyes burn slightly from the crying earlier. After last night, you happen to note that you never got Jimin’s number which is probably a good thing so he can avoid the hot mess of thoughts spinning profusely in your mind. Between seeing Namjoon and Hoseok last night and hooking up with Jimin, you can hardly imagine what the two could have said after seeing, not only you, but you sucking faces with another guy. Though it’s nice to have male attention from time to time, you didn’t expect it all to unravel at once.

Some people would make you feel so stupid for your actions while others would praise you for being so bold and independent. You’re single and you can do whatever you want. Are you really mad that you hooked up with Jimin last night? Out of desperation for running into your ex? Or are you more broken about Jeongguk standing you up, and ashamed that you are upset about it when you only have seen him twice?

You can’t help the way you feel. You inhale and exhale deeply. Running from your thoughts is all you want right now.

Entering the coffee shop, you ordered a cab and left a tip because you really despise driving, and here you are in line eventually ordering the same drink you got last time. Why you feel to look for Jeongguk, you wish you didn’t. Training your eyes to focus on what is in front of you- you grip the coffee cup once it’s placed on the counter, and you find a small table in the back away from as many people as you can avoid.

He has his reasons, but you really hope that the reasons weren’t to play with your feelings purposefully. Even though that’s exactly what it looks like. Inwardly, you accept that you probably will never see him again, and you also convince yourself that maybe Jeongguk really was a figment of your imagination. The messages on your phone will say otherwise, but for now, with the hot liquid of your coffee stinging your tongue, you will continue convincing yourself that he is a simple figment of your imagination.  

That thought lasts about thirty minutes, when your coffee is halfway downed and the view of a tatted hand glides upon the table where you feel your throat shrink. No fucking way. You keep your gaze on your coffee cup, the faint smell of a cigarette wafts in your direction and you refuse to look at him. Anger blares inside you. You can tell he is gradually taking the seat across from you because it is pretty evident how rigid you are in response to his presence. He can tell you are annoyed. Maybe even furious.

“Hey…” He forces once he scoots the chair closer to the table. You stay silent. “Look, I-”

“What do you want?” You look up finally. His look is firm, but guilt stricken all at the same time. He presses his lips together. “No, really. Amuse me.” You wave a hand at him. “Was it a one night stand you wanted? Because you could have just asked.”

His eyes enlarge but only slightly. “No. No, that’s definitely not-”

“Then what? What do you want?” You rarely give him a chance to speak before you start gathering your things. To prevent unwanted attention, you toss the coffee cup into the trash can on your way out, Jeongguk on your heels. Marching toward the sidewalk that you can follow back to the city; you huff in exasperation when you feel his hand curl around your arm.

“Let go of me!” You say loudly, thrusting your arm away from him.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay. Just- just let me explain-”

“Oh, go fuck yourself.” You try to walk away.

“y/n. Please.”

You thought you lost your shit last night when you attacked Jimin’s mouth in front of Hoseok. And you thought you lost your shit this morning when you sobbed into your pillow. But this anger and desperation and sadness that you have kept pent up since the day you discovered Hoseok’s infidelity is about to explode. And it’s about to explode in what you know will embarrass you for the rest of your life. Or… it just flat out won’t.

Scoffing, you pause, spinning to face Jeongguk, whose hands raise as if to calm you down, but you are far from calm. “You know what?” You say slowly. “That whole spiel about how I deserve to be respected was a whole load of bullshit wasn’t it?” You step forward making it clear that you aren’t done speaking, and though Jeongguk claimed weeks ago that he wasn’t scared of anything, there is the slightest hint of fear you gather in his eyes though he straightens to let his arms hang loosely at his sides. “I’m starting to think there’s no such thing anymore. First, after three years, with who I thought was the absolute love of my life, three years, he cheats on me with some chick I still to this day do not know who she is or how the fuck they met. So, for unplanned revenge, I fucked his best friend and guess what!?” You throw your hands up, “They both were at the bar last night. Both. Of. Them. How the fuck does that happen!? I move to the city to run away from my problems, and they follow me anyway. They fucking follow me as if I need that reminder. As if I need to relive that heartbreak over and over again. As if I deserve it- to have it thrown in my face.” Running your hands through your hair, you choke back a sob. You refuse to cry in front of this man who is basically a stranger but not really. You don’t notice the remorse showing in his eyes after revealing your limited yet very detailed confession. How he could have easily prevented this.

“I meet you once, and for the first time in a year, I finally know what it’s like to be excited again. To have something to potentially look forward to.” You laugh one syllable. “And yet, I don’t fucking know a single thing about you. Where you’re from, where you work, why you suddenly start coming to this coffee shop when I have never seen you there before, and I keep beating myself up for being so damned hurt about this when you’re a total stranger.” You can’t even look him in the eyes. “And there you are, completely leaving me stranded in a bar when you said you’d fucking be there. Respect, my ass. Have a nice life, Cigs.”

“You do deserve respect.” Oh, why do you pause? “I fucked up last night, okay!? I um…” He trails off, shaking his head as if to rid of whatever he originally was going to say. “Something came up-”

“Is that what it’s going to be every single time!? Something came up!?”

He winces when he acknowledges how bad it seems. “Look I- I know how it sounds. Please. Just let me make it up to you.”

Scanning him from his styled hair to the charcoal color of his boots, the thrilling sense of lust clouds your frame simultaneously to your mouth watering. It takes everything in you not to rush forward and cling onto him as if your life depends on it. But, at the same time, you see a guy who completely ghosted you on a night you may have needed his company most. And, if he was willing to do that to you last night, why wouldn’t he do it again?

The anger is still written all over your face and your demeanor. Sneering, your lips curl.

“No.”

And you stomp off toward whatever destination you hope to find as you did a year ago when you ran from disappointment. You wonder how it feels for him to see you walk away this time.

-

It doesn’t matter the day or the hour. Every time you step foot into the same coffee shop, he’s there. Jeongguk is there. Sitting a table away, keeping his eyes on you. Waiting for you to cave. You have ignored every single message he has sent. Every call he has attempted. Yet, you are also fighting the urge to just be near him. Give him another chance. Maybe it’s the fact that you truly do want to know where he was the night, he stood you up. But is it worth knowing the truth? The only thing you didn’t mention the last time you spoke to Jeongguk was the one night stand you had with Jimin. Not that it was any of Jeongguk’s business, but still. You don’t want to appear like sex with strangers is something you do all the time, because it’s not. And even if it was, it’s nobody’s business but yours.

You decide to walk the city. If he follows you there, then so be it. Compiling your things, you head out onto the sidewalk, letting the breeze nip your skin. The recent memory of LenLen asking about Jimin and you trying your best to answer her questions without blushing replays. She told you about Taehyung and how him and Jimin are best friends which you happened to already know and you relay to her how happy you are that she found Taehyung. You also apologize that you didn’t get to say hello, but she winks at you for she witnessed the reason why.

When you start reaching the city, you hardly can believe the huge sign, flashing upon the tallest building, of Hoseok’s face which roots your feet to the cement while tears spring in response. Cursing under your breath, you realize that one of the books he had been working on back when you two were together must have been released, the one he continuously spoke about. The one inspired from the script he hoped Kim Seokjin would film a movie with. The one that began with you. Which means, if it has become a success, then now you are going to see his face everywhere you turn. And, if the movie is made, that’s even more publicity Hoseok will gain and even more often you will have to see his face. The more hurt you will endure.

“Damnit,” you want to sob. Out of all the places you think to turn, you flee into the bookstore just to almost collide with a book stand filled from top to bottom with Hoseok’s novel. Fret overpowers your system, and you rush out the doors the second you see it, and you figure maybe walking home, no matter the distance, will help clear the stress out of you. Even though you know it won’t. Because at this point, you give up being in public.

You nearly slam into a figure from your rushed state and when the whiff of a cigarette mingled with cologne greets your nose, you know exactly who you’ve run into. “Why are you doing this.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement. “Why are you following me, Asshole? Did I not make myself clear?”

“I told you I wanted to make it up to you.”

“And I told you no from what I recall.”

“I have short term memory loss.”

“Oh, go fuck yourself, Nemo-”

“I’d prefer if you joined me.”

“You really are asking to get smacked.”

“I like it rather rough.”

“And I’d like for you to leave me the hell alone.”

“Not until you hear me out.”

“And why should I?”

His eyes flit between yours, “Because I can’t let it go. I messed up.”

“You don’t deserve my forgiveness if that’s what you’re implying. To be honest, it’s ridiculous that I’m even mad about it to begin with. I don’t even know you.”

“See, but you have every right to be. You should be mad.”

“Okay. Well then accept that I’m pissed at you and move on.”

“I shan’t.”

You could laugh. You almost laugh. But you hold it together because you can’t just let him think he can get away with how he just randomly leaves you stranded. When you both almost kissed in the alley way, you could sense that his desire was as solid as yours. He acted as if he wanted you. So, why did he just walk away? What is the point in pursuing someone who will always walk away?

Shoving past him, you wish you would have driven this go round so a route of escape would be available. But unfortunately, you didn’t think this through. The only place you can think of is the garden center above the bookstore that you have only visited every now and then this past year. What of Hoseok could possibly be up there? A mural? Stalking in the direction of the building, you avoid making eye contact with the huge ad about your ex, and eventually round the store to find the elevator. There are only a few floors before you reach the top and once you elbow the button to awaken the elevator, the last thing you expect is Jeongguk to follow you right in when the large doors slide open. But honestly you should have expected it.

You elbowed the button for the top floor where the smell of flowers waits for you, but you can’t ignore the tension simmering once the doors close. You bite the corner of your lip in agony, the ding of the elevator agonizingly slow. “I know you’re not about to stop and smell the roses, Eyebrow.” Referring to his eyebrow piercing that makes your insides lustfully shiver, you’re shocked he takes all your nicknames so well, but then you remember you’re supposed to be mad at him. “Why can’t you just take a hint?”

His finger presses to your lips, vanishing your words as he seductively shushes you. And he shifts to stand in front of you, his nose dangerously tickling the side of your cheek while your body fights to not react to the arousal forming below. He whispers, “I don’t need a hint to know that you want me just as much as I want you.” Whimpering, your eyes trace his face, the way his jaw curves, the way his eyes set firmly to you with no intention of moving. Did you hear him correctly? Did he just admit that he, in fact, wants you too? “So,” he continues, slipping his finger away from your lips, he brings his mouth to yours while you sigh in pleasure. Fuck. Your body begs for him to close the gap. Begs for him to kiss you. But he doesn’t. Not yet. “I suggest you behave yourself if you want to keep me tame.”

He is doing to you what you did to him that day in the coffee shop making an effort to seduce him. But this time, he is winning more than you are letting on. When the ding of the elevator brings attention to the opening doors, Jeongguk sighs, “We’re not going there.” Reaching back to hit whatever button he chooses; you don’t even move to see. He can take you wherever he wants, and you could smack yourself for conceding.

“What do you mean?” You murmur, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“I um,” he tilts his head as if embarrassed. “I live here. So, we’re going to the third floor.”

“Excuse me, what?” Your mind is trying to make the connection how it’s possible that he lives on the third floor of your favorite bookstore smack dab in the city. You’ve heard of people who have homes above the places they own, so… Does that mean Jeongguk owns the bookstore? You thought he said his stepbrother owns it? His hand finds yours when the doors slide open again, showing shelves upon shelves of books with sparse customers quietly reading or viewing the array of covers.

Your brain cells are racing but never reaching a finish line as your eyes frantically scan the hallway the pair of you are entering. You try to appreciate the feel of Jeongguk’s hand holding yours, warm and firm and surprisingly safe though you wish you hadn’t lost the will to fight. Why is it so easy for him to melt your anger away? To melt your sadness? To heighten your senses.

He scans something, you assume a card, before opening a large door, flipping on the lights to show an area of simplicity and barely any furniture to decorate once you step inside. The scent is new as if it has just been built, but you know that is impossible considering this bookstore has been around for years. Automatically, you both kick off your shoes. “My stepbrother used to live here before, so I moved in.” He says as if reading your mind. “That’s why there’s not much here, but there’s enough to keep comfortable.” He gestures toward a sofa awkwardly sitting in the middle of what you assume is the living room and loud meows start echoing the second you see a few cat towers sprawled out. Flounder and Tetra.

“I remember you saying he owns a bookstore… it’s here?” You say in disbelief as the cats come flying to greet you and Jeongguk. How can you be mad anymore when these sweet little fluff puffs are rubbing against your legs, mewing for attention? Jeongguk giggles while he tries to bring back the conversation.  

He shrugs, unintentionally dismissing the sexual tension that concocted in the elevator only seven minutes ago now that the cats are out and about. “He’s an actor now. He took over when his dad retired.”

“…What do you do?” You’re quiet and you don’t mean to be, but you’ve been struggling with mixed emotions for what seems like an eternity. At this point, you accept if this is a dream versus reality.

“Nothing,” he says after a moment, head looking downward. You lick your lips when your eyebrows furrow, but strangely you understand this shame. If your sister didn’t have money, you’d be homeless. Your parents live far away, and in all honesty, you don’t truly talk to them as often as you should. You work part time at a retail store because you can’t seem to get your shit together enough to work full time otherwise, you’d be in the same boat… you’d be doing just that. Nothing. “I used to work as a tattoo artist before I moved here, but um… you may find this hard to believe, but I got my heart broken by someone I fell in love with when I was eighteen.”

“You?” You croak. You mean it to come off as a joke but fail miserably. He finally tilts his head up, softly grinning.

“Yes, a tatted asshole that wears leather and smokes cigs can be capable of falling in love and getting heartbroken instead of causing the heartbreak, Macchiato… Happy?”

Why this vulnerability is happening is unbeknownst to you, but you are very happy that he seems to be opening up. He all but admitted he wants you, too. So, the least he can do is try. Try letting you see past the mystery. Try staying instead of leaving. Saying hello instead of goodbye.

“How long were you two together?” You may have spilled the beans of how long you were with Hoseok, not that Jeongguk knows who he is, but three years is a long time.

“Five years. Found out she cheated on me, too… I lost myself for a long time. Ended up at a different girl’s house every week to numb the pain and never called them back the next day. Became addicted to smoking cigarettes. Went to parties quite a bit… Got drunk, you name it… Moved here with my children the second Jin told me I could. That’s when I finally calmed down and realized, I needed to change before it got worse.”

“I’m so sorry… Sometimes people underestimate the pain of a breakup. Especially if you were with them for such a long time as you were.” It’s quiet a little longer than you mean for it to be, but the similarity of how the two of you got your heart broken is an odd coincidence. But then you gasp when a lightbulb clicks. “Jin!? As in, Seokjin?”

“Yeah?” He says unhurriedly. “Is that hard for you to believe?”

“What? No! I’m just- the Kim Seokjin is your stepbrother? He owns this bookstore?”

“Well yeah, he’s the reason the bills are paid for now until I, myself, can get my shit together.”

You know the concentration it takes to complete a puzzle? Well, this is one of those times. Randomly, you wonder. Does Jeongguk know Jimin since Seokjin knows Jimin?

“Do you know who Jimin is?” You spit out. How are all these male specimens connected? Either way, you are definitely not telling Jeongguk about the rendezvous with Jimin that’s for sure.

His eyebrows scrunch and you visibly witness the way his shoulders rigidify as if he knows exactly who you are talking about. “How do you know Jimin?”

“No reason, just wondering. I saw him hanging out with Seokjin at the bar you failed to show up to.”

“Hm.” He hums once. “Interesting.”

“He co-owns the bar with a guy named Taehyung…  My co-worker is dating him. Taehyung, I mean.” You’re having a hard time reading Jeongguk’s expression, but he attempts to not be so uptight.

“Did you… See anybody else there?”

His question hits you by surprise, but you know there is no way he could be referring to Hoseok and Namjoon… Could he? No, of course not. He wasn’t there. He doesn’t know who your ex is specifically. You may have mentioned your ex and your ex’s best friend were at the bar, but you had never given any names. It’s as if Jeongguk is asking solely about someone else… But who?

Pushing your fingertips to your forehead, you release an exasperated sigh. “Can I use your restroom?” You need a moment to yourself. All this unwanted ‘solving’ isn’t getting you anywhere. And why is Jeongguk being so weird about Jimin? He doesn’t know about the hook up and Jeongguk is also not your boyfriend, so why does it matter?

“Yeah, this way,” he points in the direction of what you assume is his bedroom. “On the right.”

The door gently clicks behind you while your palms cling onto the counter when you’re securely within the bathroom. It’s huge. You can tell it’s spacious by the fact you can breathe amidst the anxiety. A jacuzzi and a walk-in shower, a door that you are confident is a towel closet is what you take in once you twirl around. It’s beautiful and so clean, it’s as if nobody has inhabited it in a long time. Either way, you don’t want to take too long, so you pull out a small bottle of mouth wash and complete a brisk breathing exercise before filing out into Jeongguk’s bedroom.

You hadn’t taken time to notice how large his bed is either. The covers are invitingly dark, and you can tell from the curtains that are slightly split show the windows to a magnificent view of the city. Whoever Seokjin’s dad had to construct this place was an absolute genius. A home inside a bookstore, that would be a dream come true for millions.

You brace yourself when you step into the living room, and you notice Jeongguk is preparing wine glasses, a bottle of red is in his hand as he begins to pour the crimson liquid. His cats are munching on some food that he put to keep them occupied. You can tell by his body language that he is going to change the subject regarding Jimin. “How did you know?” You say ultimately when you pull out a stool in front of the counter.

“Nothing a good bit of wine can’t fix.” He winks. “Plus, I figured it will calm the nerves, so we can actually… talk.”

You nod reluctantly, fingers pressing beneath the glass before you take a slow sip. The taste is sour with the mouth wash, but you know after a few sips that will change. A wave of calm floods your chest and limbs once you swallow. “Thank you.” You murmur. He leans on the counter instead of moving to take a seat next to you. He can’t take his eyes off you, and he can’t even explain how just being around you makes him feel. You bring a comfort he hasn’t had in a long time. He knows he has gone about it the wrong way, but he is determined to not let you go this time. No matter how much his ex keeps trying to reach out to win him back. He wants you.

“I’m really sorry about the bar.” He manages to say. He’s not the best with apologies, but he knows you deserve one. “That was really fucked up. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“No… You shouldn’t have.” You’re honest because you know what it’s like to be betrayed. Jeongguk of all people should get it too after admitting that he has been cheated on before as you have. You must stand your ground regardless of how weak he secretly makes you because no, this specific situation may not be seen as a betrayal, but it was not okay that he left you there alone. He does, however, want to confess everything, of why he didn’t show up. But something keeps telling him that it’s too soon. When he’s ready, he plans to tell you. But for now, he wants to prove to you that he’s not going anywhere this time.

“I know,” he murmurs.

Taking a longer sip of the wine, you rub at your eyes. “He really did some damage…” You admit, appreciating how easy it is for the pair of you to start opening up. This is something you have battled to talk about since the day you witnessed it. “I mean three years of my life I gave to this guy, and he just…” You throw your hand up. “He just throws every bit of it down the drain. There wasn’t even the slightest red flag. I came home. Heard them in the bedroom… Our bedroom. And I just-” You didn’t want to cry, but the tears greet you with the burn of your nose. “I just left. I don’t even know how long it had been going on. All I know is I blocked him on everything and refuse to give him the time of day. Because I can’t bring myself to face him. Or the pain of it all.” Jeongguk listens contently, sorrow filling his umber eyes. “When I saw him at the bar for the first time in a year, the anger that filled me at first, I wanted to do anything to make him feel the same devastation I felt that day. Sure, I slept with his best friend weeks after the breakup, but he doesn’t know that. And, as much as I want to say the revenge was satisfying… It wasn’t.” You tap your fingers on the counter. “Now I’m here. I’m here in this city, living with my rich sister, and working a part time job. It’s like I want to live in my misery… At least, I have my cat.” You smile, Kenai’s sweet face bringing you peace.

“It takes a long time to move on from something like that. What happened to me was nearly two years ago and it still hurts.” Jeongguk says because he knows exactly how that feels. He still succumbed to his ex’s every beck and call until he met you. That’s when everything started changing for him. Why he couldn’t think straight. When his ex was trying to distract him, his mind was filled with you. “I saw the guy she was cheating with once. I planned to confront him, but… chickened out. I knew if I wasn’t careful, I’d do something I’d regret.”

“Who was he?” You ask. Jeongguk raises his shoulders, pursing his lips.

“I don’t know his name. Just that Seokjin was working on a movie, happened to meet the guy and my girlfriend at the time was with him. Jin put two and two together and called me right after. He recognized her in some of the pictures I posted on social media before I deleted it all.”

“He’s an actor, too? The guy she was with?” You wonder.

“I’m assuming.” He speaks. “She never really met Jin before. Or at least, I never told her specifically that he was my stepbrother. That was a part of my life I tried to keep distant, but when he called me concerned, I knew why she was coming home so late. Or, why she didn’t panic if she knew Jin was my brother who was seeing her in the flesh with another dude.” Jeongguk wets his lips. “And that’s when he tried to help me cope by giving me his apartment here when he saw how far gone, I had gotten. And that’s why she learned to do research on who I’m connected to because apparently me and Seokjin know everybody due to his fame and fortune.” He means the fame and fortune as a joke, but you still ponder.

“So…” Your expression confused. “If that’s the case, how do you know Jimin?”

Jeongguk swallows roughly, “I asked you first.”

Now, it’s your turn to gulp. “About that.” The stool screeches from under you as you immediately stand, chugging every last drop of your wine before you clutch your things to your side. The indent Jimin left on your shoulder has faded some, but it still befuddles you knowing Jeongguk could clue in if he wanted to. “I-I have to go.” You really don’t, but the way your entire body is flushing, and your eyes are wide with panic. What else are you supposed to do? Running is what you do best. As if a lightbulb goes off, Jeongguk’s laugh reverberates behind you.

“Wait a minute, have you banged him?” Halt. You choke completely on your own spit; your trachea insults you while you cough up a storm. Goodness gracious. Why this? Why now? “You totally banged him didn’t you!? Holy shit.”

“So, what if I have?” You stifle another cough whirling to face him. “What the hell are you going to do about it?”

That’s when the air between you two immediately silences as if you gave him the challenge of a lifetime. Not even Tetra or Flounder are around to fill in the void. It’s as if you both are back in the elevator where the temptation became so alive, it was hard to ignore. It was irresistible. The only sound is your breathing as it increases after Jeongguk’s wine glass clinks against the counter. There’s a prolonged few seconds before it all becomes thunderous.  He makes his way to you as your purse slips from your quivering arm. Your breathing stops. His fingertips press to touch to the skin of your chest as he tickles circles. His eyes flit from your parting lips to the way your eyes start to show you’re imploring for him to not stop. He taunts you. Edging so close to you, his lips are barely on yours when he whispers, “I’m going to make you forget he exists.”

This time, you’re not letting him walk away from you. Not again. Not ever. Your palm finds itself gripping his shirt while you close the gap. The millisecond Jeongguk’s lips connect with yours, it’s electrifying. It’s as if somebody injected fireworks into your veins, shooting across your skin and awakening your senses ten times the normal, exploding across your mind, body, and soul. Your heart pounds so loud, you’re shocked if he doesn’t hear it. You’ve been with three other guys sexually prior to Jeongguk, but something about this is mystifying. Powerful.

His mouth moves with yours as you gasp into his kiss, letting him guide you until the back of your legs recognizes the arm of the sofa. His hand moves to tangle into your hair while you deepen the kiss, the tip of his tongue finding yours as he caresses it simultaneously taking his free hand to slip into the front of your pants, but you’re not ready for him to pleasure you yet. You want to show him what he will miss out on if he doesn’t choose you in the end. But you weaken when his heated lips press slowly and gently along your jawline, the arousal you feel drips, his fingers sliding further to slip past your underwear until he runs his fingertips up and down your heat.

“Oh,” he moans with a slight growl burying his face into your neck from how drenched you already are for him. “Holy fuck,” he hisses, trying to keep himself tame. You love the sound of his fingers sloshing up and down against you. But you want it to be you on him.

Shoving him back to give you some space, his hand flies from your pants and he watches you not expecting you to kneel. And not expecting you to fumble undoing his belt, tugging it out of his belt loops, he hisses in response to the point you see his bulge prominently inside his pants. Oh, the way your mouth waters instinctively at the sight of his erection.

Unbuttoning his pants, you yank them down to his ankles, releasing his erection from his underwear where you hum pleasurably at his girth. Your hands run along his thighs seductively; his eyes darken with lust as you connect with them naughtily. Your palm then slides around his length, stroking him agonizingly slow before you take him into your mouth. Letting his precum welcome your taste buds before you hollow your cheeks, the warm skin of his being ignites your arousal even more. His large hand moves to the top of your head where your strands tangle between his tatted fingers. That’s when you begin, bobbing back and forth as speedily as you can, basking in his moans at how amazing you feel. Your hands cling to the bottom of his jacket while you continue your bliss eventually releasing him from your mouth to push him onto the couch where his back plops upon the cushions.

You push his shirt up to visualize his toned abdomen before dipping down to continue sucking, moving your other hand to massage his scrotum, giving him every bit of pleasure, you can to make him crave you. To make him pine for you. Another trick is up your sleeve when your hand returns to his being, following up and down with your mouth while he tries every way not to cum before he gets the chance to pleasure you more. “Holy fuck,” He groans in satisfaction which makes you continue your fun.

Your tongue laps around his tip before you wipe the spittle at the corners of your lips away. When you’re about to continue, he raises, pulling you to his mouth as he kisses you more, becoming hungrier as he shifts you closer. You can tell your clothes are getting in his way for when he pauses, dazed, his hands start to tug at your pants, eventually freeing you from them as you help kick them off. The air in the apartment is colder than you realize. Goosebumps start flying down your legs as you try to regain your focus on removing the articles of clothing off Jeongguk’s top half. Eventually, all linens are plopped onto the floor and your naked bodies are starting to feel every inch of warm skin, captivating every sense, every cell, every emotion, every lustful bliss.

He pauses and you realize his fingertips have paused at the fading spot on your shoulder. The place where Jimin’s teeth sank in. Holding your breath, you see the guilt in Jeongguk’s eyes as his lips become ajar as if he wishes that it could have been him instead. You aren’t sure how to read what he is thinking, especially when he runs the tip of his thumb over the area. But, in the heat of the moment, his other hand slides to the back of your neck where he slightly grips the strands of your hair stimulating you to bite your lip. He tilts your head just enough to cover the spot with his own mouth, sucking harshly on the skin to place his mark. To regain his status. You’ve never seen something so hot, it’s sending immense tingles all through out your frame. He then sprinkles kisses across your chest eventually trailing to your breasts where his tongue flicks over your nipples and the top of his head tickles your chin. Your whimpers increase while he sucks each nipple tenderly, your fingers indenting his back, and the way your vaginal walls leak onto your vulva- you cannot wait for more of this man. Your eyes sweep his figure. His tattoos covering the entirety of his arm.

Goodness, his body is ethereal, and from the way he takes in the view of you bare, you can tell he feels the exact same about you. Your lips tingle for his. Dragging him to you, he crashes his lips to yours, a new addiction you both know will be hard to break. The way his body presses to yours so passionately, it’s as if you have waited your whole life to feel this good. You can still feel the way his lips bruised you on your shoulder, and you adore the way it lingers.

“My turn!” His fingers deliciously dig into your hips, he slides you closer to him despite the limited room on the sofa, and his eyes absorb how sopping wet you are for him even still. He traces his hands to your thighs when you feel your heat clenching fervently for the desire that is taking over your system. Jeongguk wastes no time swiping a finger, sucking your leakage before his tongue starts lapping up every bit of your taste. What really catches you by surprise is how he continues the fast movements, flattening and pointing his tongue seeing which gesture makes you scream for him more. In between, he sucks your clit, taking one hand to reach for the spot above your clit where he massages nice and slow simultaneously while he feasts. “Oh, Guk,” you sigh with elation. “Oh, Guk, yes! Oh my gosh, yes, holy fuck, ah-”

You hardly can contain yourself with how this man is loving your body. He refuses to stop until you feel the powerful jolt of an orgasm, gratifyingly overwhelming your brain as your thighs squeeze together. Jeongguk already pulled away with pure ecstasy of watching you come undone for him. You are so dizzy; you can’t help the way your feet sink into the couch trying to overcome the sensitivity. When you try to shift, to sit up, Jeongguk hovers close to where he whispers, the smell of you reaching your nose.

“Keep your eyes closed,” he says against your lips, kissing you quickly before carefully lifting his body off you. His hands slide along your arms as he tenderly guides you. Before you can question, he interrupts by kissing you again. “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere. I’ve got a couple things I want to set up.” As much as you hate to admit it, your heat drips at the way he whispers this to you intensifying the elation. How many times does he plan to make you cum?

The anticipation as to what he’s about to do. What he’s about to show you. Your ears tune into the sounds of the refrigerator opening- his giddy footsteps jogging to the bedroom where you hear the start of running water. Not just a spritz from the shower… the jacuzzi. Holy fuck. When you thought of steamy sex, you never once thought about the jacuzzi. Your hands squeeze into your thighs, the sensitivity between your legs starting to dim. Your heat clenching around nothing as you feel your nipples bud against the chilled air now that his warm body hasn’t been wrapped around yours for a bit. You never really ventured with sex when you were with Hoseok. It was just the typical quickies before and after work depending on the mood with the occasional use of a vibrator. And with Namjoon, it was a drunken blur. With Jimin… It was just spicy vanilla with addictive kisses, but good enough to get the job done and not hesitate for a second round if there ever was to be a second round.

But with Jeongguk. He’s about to give you a night you hope to relive every moment you see him. When he steps into the living room after a few minutes, you had been biting your lip unintentionally, and you feel him kneeling when his tepid hands place on your knees to then gliding up your exposed thighs. He loves teasing you with his lips, talking against them to keep you on your toes. “I’m ready.” He whispers enticingly. You peel your eyes open, him holding your hands while he helps you stand.

When you enter behind him to his bedroom, you notice a golden bowl filled with ice cubes and bubbles from the jacuzzi mingled with steam is shown from where the bathroom door is open. “I didn’t know to buy rose petals and candles-”

“Oh, fuck that!” You gasp, grabbing his face to kiss him again and again. The excitement is so tremendous, his strong arms adhere you to his frame before he peppers kisses along your neck, sucking the skin before placing your back on his bed. Lifting your hands in surrender, he can have you however he wants. However, he needs you. His eyes trail to the ice cubes where he places one in his mouth taking a few long sucks. When you imagined ice play, you never thought you would actually get to experience it.

He then takes the ice and places it on your chest, the cold nips your skin in a pleasurable way and when he slides the cube onto one nipple then to the other, your shaky breaths echo within his bedroom. He then lets the cube glide downwards once your nipples stay budded till he pauses at the beginning of your vulva. “Do you want me, baby?”

“Yes!” You’re breathless, toes curling against the bed sheets, the cold of the frozen water bringing a subtle pain. “Yes, baby, please. I want you.” He lets the ice touch along your slit, causing your hips to rise involuntarily while he rubs it quickly, coating your heat with the chill. Just enough to absorb your taste. As you watch him intensely, he returns the cube to his mouth sucking more until he places it back into the bowl.

Without preparation, his hands, few fingertips cold, wrap around your thighs, shifting you to his starving mouth as he breathes in your scent. “You smell so good, baby.” He growls, his hair tickling your skin before his tongue starts to flick between your folds once more, the chill feel sending vibrations of desire up and down your body while you moan his name even higher than his previous feast. “Oh, Guk! Oh, baby! Holy fuck, you feel so good! Ah!” Your screams encourage him to flick faster, up and down his tongue presses, lapping up your juices while your hands dig into the comforter. Eyes rolling back, one by one, each of his hands reach to rub your nipples, rubbing so fondly while he licks you, making your arousal build even stronger, so intense, you can hardly breathe. His head makes swift movements while he continues to taste you furiously, not taking one moment to breathe himself. You feel another orgasm building, and before you can stop him, your hips buck to the amplifying sensation as the glint of you shines on his chin. He arches an eyebrow proudly as you melt against the comforter- completely and utterly gasping.

But he’s not done with you yet and you don’t want him to be.

He crawls onto the bed to hover above you, interlacing his fingers with yours that happen to untangle from squeezing the comforter. Still holding your hands, he then moves backwards, helping you up to lead you to the bathroom where he shuts the door behind him. Wherever he goes, you will follow. And so far, you are not regretting one bit.

The steam is still rising from the jacuzzi and when he pins you to the tub, he leans over you to press a button, the jets in the jacuzzi awaken and the entire bath is bubbling for you to enjoy. You smell yourself on his mouth, and when he kisses you again, this time it’s so loving. It’s soft. So mesmerizing, you can’t concentrate on anything else as his hands cup your breasts, rubbing your nipples so affectionately that your heat gushes below you as you moan helplessly against his mouth.

“Get in.” He demands and this newfound dominance is going to make you pounce. You tilt your head when you meet his knowing eyes.

“You first, Cigs.” His nose scrunching into the sweetest smile, you dizzyingly watch him step into the jacuzzi, letting the water engulf his frame before you find yourself joining, putting a leg on either side of his hips while you straddle him. His hands massage up and down your back slowly to gripping your ass. How much more stunning can this man be? When he said he was going to make you forget about the past, he wasn’t fucking kidding. And you are very much okay with that.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispers suddenly and your heart swells at his words. Not only did he mean it, but you can feel how much he means it. It doesn’t take long for you to bring your lips to his after holding his gaze, eventually moving a hand to find his erection, posing above his length before he enters you causing you to gasp against his kiss before your body starts to move to the rhythm of his hips as he thrusts into you. The water splashes amidst your moans, him hitting your g-spot with every stroke.

Lips still locked to yours, Jeongguk wraps his arms around you before lifting you enough to lay your back against the other end of the jacuzzi. Water covers your body while the jets massage your skin as Jeongguk lingers above you, entering you once more, your arms hug behind his shoulders while he thrusts. His body molds so perfectly with yours, and you never felt so alive. His large hand moves to cradle the back of your head, kissing you so deeply that your head is spinning. You never want this to end. How he moves so beautifully within you. It’s enthralling. He is enthralling.

When he releases into you, the water washes him away, and he sighs into your neck while you two try to catch a breath.

“By the way, it’s Dory.”

Confusion hits you at his sudden, breathless remark. “What?”

“You called me Nemo. It’s supposed to be Dory. She has short term memory loss.”

Shoving him playfully, you splash water at him while giggles echo, him tackling you just to place kisses to your blushing face. You can’t imagine ever losing him at this point. For once, you feel promise even though a promise has never been made.

-

“You’re smiling.” Monnie says suspiciously as you dazingly exit your room.

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“It certainly is not. It’s about time you appreciate your life here.”

“I do appreciate it here.”

“Finally… Is it the blonde guy?”

Your eyes widen because you completely forgot that your sister has no idea about Jeongguk. “No!” You say quickly. “No, it’s not him.”

“Okay,” Monnie says slowly, placing her hands on her hips. “Well, something is making you act like a teenager, so spill it.”

“I will at some point just… Just not right now.”

Monnie groans in annoyance. “I don’t know what I have to do to get you to talk to me, but at some point, I need to know your life story.”

“But you do know most of it. We’re sisters, Genius.”

“The boring stuff. I want to hear the dirt. I’m nosy.”

“You wouldn’t be my sister if you weren’t.” You tease. “I will tell you everything when I am ready. It’s… a lot… Okay?”

Reluctantly, her arms loosen in defeat as she rolls her eyes, “Fine,” she drones.

To be honest, you hope to confide in LenLen as well. It’s about time you open to the people who you do trust very much. For the time being though, it’s been a few days since you last saw Jeongguk and he has been messaging you nonstop since then. You felt so bruised down there, especially when you both had intercourse the next morning before you left to go to work. Both were naked and finished brushing teeth, and you wrapped your arms around him from behind. Your breasts smooshed to his back. He couldn’t resist you after that. He lifted you up to where your legs linked around his body. The sex started rough once you reached his bed sheets but ended gently driving your mind wild. His touch is like lightning and he nearly cummed back-to-back when he saw a wet spot under you from where you released post orgasm.

You do plan to see him again, and despite the endless thoughts of him, you figure a nice walk around downtown is a good plan. Downtown is super close to the city but has a smaller string of stores. It’s a different scenery, something to keep your mind from cluttering. It’s been a few months. You don’t go as often because that’s where Hoseok would take you on special dates. You figure with his popularity rising from his newly released book, he may not be downtown as often, so you feel it’s safe to tread.

Goodness though, the way Jeongguk’s touch has encapsulated you into another dimension, you can’t stop thinking about him. Or his lips. Or his smile. Or his laugh. Or his tattoos, how beautifully they decorate his skin. The way he holds you… He’s a dream you hope to always have. Hands cuddled into your jacket pockets, the sun shining brightly in the sky, twenty minutes into entering downtown where cars slowly drive by and the ‘open’ signs flash on every window, you decide to enter one of the familiar shops you happened to pass. Life gets even stranger because when you enter what looks to be a beauty boutique, from the colors and setting you recognize it as one you and Hoseok used to frequent way back when.

“She had me come double check inventory. Just make sure we get more of the eye shadow palettes in. At least, that’s what she requested me to say.” Eyebrows scrunching, you have heard this voice before. It’s oddly quiet other than a radio playing, and your eyes trail to an employee nodding and scribbling down whatever was said. Your heart nearly stops when you see none other than Jimin talking to the employee after shifting through what looks to be a pile of mail. You debate running out of the store, but you never got Jimin’s number, and so you make it clear you really didn’t use him even though you kinda did accidentally on purpose, you make the haste decision to let him notice you. He hasn’t done anything wrong.

He spins around after checking over a few things and looks up at you when you clear your throat. The moment his eyes register who he is seeing, his face lights up. “Oh my gosh! Hey there!” Jimin out stretches his arms, pulling you into such a sweet embrace when he reaches you, and you can’t help but let the relief loosen your tense frame. You melt into him.

“Hey,” you whisper.

“How are you?” He pulls away slightly to read your eyes.

“I’m good… I’m sorry I never thought to get your number.”

“No! No, don’t apologize. I should be sorry. I don’t want you to think I’m that kinda guy.”

“Oh God, no.” You chuckle. “You are just fine.”

Jimin presses his lips together in concentration, his thumb rubbing your shoulder. “My sister had me check up on her store which is why I’m here.” He motions to his surroundings. “With the stress of inventory, I could use a drink. Wanna join?”

“You don’t have to ask me twice.” You say.

 -

When the strong liquid welcomes your tongue soothing your limbs once you swallow, Jimin eyes you as you twirl the liquid in the glass. The restaurant is nice and dimly lit and you are very thankful that you ran into him when you did. It makes you feel better about what happened between you two.

“I didn’t know you had a sister.” You say after a minute. Not that you ever cared to ask. “I didn’t know she owned a store.”

Jimin smiles, shrugging his shoulders. “Yeah, she’s a pain in my ass but I love her.”

“I relate on so many levels.” You chuckle, knowing Monnie would give you a look that could kill with an arched eyebrow in tow.

“Is… everything okay between us?” Jimin is curiously watching you, his expression still concerned about everything. At this point, you both have swapped numbers, promising to keep in touch. With how much your heart pines for Jeongguk, you know you won’t give in to anyone else.

“Of course, it is.” You promise. “I really mean it when I say I enjoyed your company. I just have a lot going on.”

“I understand.” He says meaningfully. “Want to talk about it?”

Considering your answer, you swallow briefly. “My ex… of three years cheated on me. Moved here a year ago.” You continue explaining how you ended up with your sister and how you were heartbroken about being stood up at the bar and how you ran into your ex and his best friend at the bar as well. All in one night. Adding that you are glad Jimin was equally attracted to you and how the distraction really helped overall.  

“Holy shit, you slept with his best friend!? You are bad ass!”

“Oh God, I’m far from it.”

“Dude, no, that’s the best way to get back at a cheater. I’m telling you. Oh, and um,” Jimin leans closer to you with a confident look, his thick lips poised in a mischievous grin, “I don’t mind you using me for whatever you want. I’m honored I got to be your first after a year of abstinence.”

You giggle, smacking his shoulder playfully. “To be honest, I’m glad it was you too. You are so sweet. I mean it. If anything, I hope we can be friends.” You reach to squeeze his hand, him running his thumb across your knuckles.

“Agreed.”

“How long ago did you and your sister move here?” You wonder aloud. “I remember you said you had been here for a long while.”

“About two years, but I am roommates with Taehyung for now. He’s pretty head over heels for his girlfriend so I’ll probably be living on my own soon.”

“That’s not bad at all,” you encourage.

“Oh yeah, I’m sure I’ll love the space, but it gets lonely sometimes… My sister lives with her current boyfriend. I’m not the biggest fan, but he’s a successful novelist. Came out with a book literally like last week.”

Your eyebrows scrunch. What? “He’s… an author?”

“Yeah… I mean he’s a good writer don’t get me wrong, but her last boyfriend… She was with him forever and she did him so dirty. I felt bad for the kid.”

“Wait a minute…” Your head is spinning. This can’t be real. Calm down, y/n, it’s all just a coincidence. You are freaking out over nothing. “Wh-who was her ex-boyfriend if you don’t mind me asking?”

He opens his mouth to reply, but his phone, that has been laying right side up on the table starts to vibrate, a picture of a smiling woman shows. “Oh, that’s my sister.” He says, “Probably calling to make sure I took care of inventory. I should take this.”

“I- I have to go anyway,” you pretend to check your wrist when really stars are showing in your eyes, because that picture. Your mouth goes immediately dry. The shirt. The way her breasts are rounded beneath that shirt. Hoseok’s shirt. The shirt that went missing. The girl in the picture… she was wearing it. She was fucking wearing it.

“Hey, Min-a.” Jimin greets into the phone, waving goodbye to you, mouthing that he will text you as you dart away. Bile rises to your esophagus burning in its wake as you rush outside to the nearest trash can. Holy shit. You can’t breathe and you gasp between heaves. Everything is crashing down as you make the connection. It’s all coming together.

You never saw her face, but you saw her torso decorated with nice breasts and Hoseok’s shirt. Jeongguk mentioned that he was cheated on too and that she was with her new boyfriend who was going over a script with an actor… His stepbrother who is none other than Kim Seokjin. Hoseok has been writing for an actor who happens to be Kim Seokjin. Jimin personally knows Kim Seokjin. Hoseok is now out with a novel. She, Jimin’s sister, owns a store downtown, a store that happens to be one that you and Hoseok used to frequent because you loved their products, but when you left him, you never went back to that specific store. Meaning… he met her there. While you two were still together. But most of all, you remember how tense Jeongguk got at the mention of Jimin… Because Jeongguk knows Jimin. And then there was the confrontation Jeongguk almost had with the guy his ex-girlfriend cheated on him with who you can’t seem to comprehend it to be:

Hoseok.

This can’t be real. No, no this can’t be fucking real. You plead to the universe, wiping your lips with your sleeve as you try to keep the next bout of nausea suppressed.

Jeongguk dated Jimin’s sister who is now with Hoseok. The girl who he cheated on you with. You heard Jimin say her name. You can hardly collect your thoughts to think her name.

Min-a.

When the nausea starts to dull just for you to regain your composure. You run. You run home and you don’t stop until you burst through the door. Monnie and Yoongi are frantic when they see you, collapsing to the floor to catch your breath while tears stream down your face, sobbing as the pain shoots through your heart. Now, you have your answer. Nobody had to tell you. You accidentally stumbled upon it yourself. At this point, seeing the devastation pouring down your face, Monnie doesn’t give you a choice, she demands the truth. As Kenai rushes to sway his furry body against your legs to calm you, you confess and tell your sister and her boyfriend everything. From beginning to end- everything.

Finally, you let every emotion out, every secret released.

-

“So, you are saying that not only did you sleep with your ex’s best friend, Namjoon. You also hooked up with your ex’s new girl’s brother and her ex-boyfriend, too!?” Monnie connecting the dots while Yoongi’s mouth drops open in alarm. “Holy cannoli, if this isn’t the best revenge story ever!”

“I wasn’t looking for revenge!” You spew.

“Not with Jimin and Jeongguk you weren’t, but you have to admit, Namjoon was definitely revenge.”

“Well Namjoon, yes.” You agree with swollen eyes. “But the rest? I had absolutely no idea they were connected.” Your palm is plastered to your forehead, and though Jeongguk has messaged you and called twice, you’ve ignored everything. You don’t know how to approach the subject. Is his ex, Min-a, who is Hoseok’s girlfriend that he left you for, is she the reason Jeongguk kept walking away from you? Why he struggled at first giving into you? Have her and Hoseok been having problems? “No wonder why Hoseok was so… shocked.” You murmur. “I thought it was because I was kissing another guy in general, but it was his girlfriend’s brother.”

“Wowza.” Yoongi shakes his head in disbelief. “I can’t comprehend it. What a small world.”

“Now it all makes sense. They all know each other.” You speak. “That’s why they’re all connected. Holy shit.”

“I definitely know Kim Seokjin. Not personally, but we’ve seen a few of his movies.” Yoongi says crossing his arms, gesturing his elbow in Monnie’s direction.

“Oh yeah, how can we not know Kim Seok-” Monnie notices Yoongi eyeballing her playfully with a quirked eyebrow and she clears her throat. “I agree. They all know each other. Jimin and Taehyung are best friends who know Kim Seokjin because he is best friends with Taehyung. Kim Seokjin also knows Jeongguk because they happen to be stepbrothers and Kim Seokjin knows Hoseok because of the movie script and novel Hoseok wrote. Also,” Monnie takes in a deep, dramatic breath. “Hoseok knows Jeongguk because Hoseok stole his girlfriend at the time, and Jeongguk knows Jimin because he dated Jimin’s sister. Am I forgetting anyone?”

“My head hurts.” You groan.

“Ah, Namjoon! He is best friends with Hoseok and since he was in the same vicinity as everyone I have mentioned, he must know everyone. I’m sure he is familiar with Jeongguk because Hoseok probably told him.”

“You’re good at this.” You blurt. “Maybe you should be a writer.”

“I’ve dabbled a time or two.” She grins, holding a finger in the air. “And that concludes your shit show of a love life.”

“Thanks.” You roll your eyes. Yet, you couldn’t concur more.

When conversation finishes with your sister and her boyfriend, you feed Kenai and give him squishy hugs and kisses while he pelts his tail at you in annoyance. You don’t care how much he prefers his food over you sometimes, you want to give him kissies and he shall accept them. There is somewhere you want to be. Need to be. You just hope he will be there.

Ordering a driver after freshening up and putting on a light amount of makeup, you throw on some tennis shoes and make your way outside. Previously you were always uncertain of the destination you were going to go. But this time, you know exactly where you are going. He will always be who you run to. Jeongguk. You haven’t stopped thinking about him since the day you met him. It has all gone by so fast, yet there is plenty of time to become more than just a thought every other second. But, neither of you can proceed until the truth is told.

The drive feels tantalizingly slow as your leg bounces profusely in the backseat until you arrive at the bookstore. You swish some mouth wash from the mini bottle in your purse as you rush to the elevator after tipping the driver, spitting it into a bush before elbowing the elevator button. Your temples beat to your increasing heart rate. Swallowing the lump forming in your throat, you recount everything. It’s time to lay it all out. No matter how risky.

Customers standing by on the third floor watch you zip past, and you try to follow your memory to Jeongguk’s door and when your feet stop before it, you inhale and exhale deeply to calm your nerves. You knock, letting your hope rise because you cannot wait to see him despite the words that haven’t been said. You hear running footsteps- and when the door opens, your breath hitches at his indescribable beauty. You see the way relief falls with his shoulders as he springs forward to hug you- pulling you into his home while the door automatically shuts behind you.

You take the time to hold him, bundling your nose into his warm chest while his hand moves to soothe into your hair. “Hey,” he whispers, placing a kiss to the top of your head. “Where have you been? I’ve been super worried.”

“I know,” you murmur, squeezing him tighter. “I know. I’m sorry… Something happened.” You hear the rustle of paws running around the living room and you can’t help but smile at the reminder of the cats. Instantly your smile falls, however, because you know a serious conversation is going to take place. Shifting to step back, so you can see the entirety of his face, he tries to read your expression. He can tell something is wrong.

“I know how you know Jimin.” You can’t help it when tears brim, especially when you see Jeongguk’s body tense. As if he is trying to protect himself from unwanted memories. From heartbreak. He remains silent. “Min-a.” Your voice is hoarse when you say her name. Jeongguk’s hands move to slide into his hair while he sucks in his lips, squeezing his eyes shut the second he registers who you just named. There’s pain in his demeanor. Pain, you know all too well. “She’s who my ex-boyfriend left me for… Hoseok.”

Disbelief, the common reaction, is all over his expression while his lips part as if to speak, but he doesn’t. “Hoseok’s not an actor…” You murmur. “He’s a writer… He knows your stepbrother because he wrote a story he wants filmed with Seokjin as the lead.” You wet your lips. “I met Jimin the day I met you. And yes… I hooked up with him the night the bar opened, but I was so emotionally distraught, I needed something. Anything to distract me because I saw Hoseok there. And his best friend. And… I was devastated that you didn’t show up.” Your fingers touch to your lips as you try to keep your composure. “I had no idea who she was until today.” You admit. “Absolutely no idea.”

“I-” Jeongguk struggles to find the words, but he steps closer to you. “I think it will take time for the shock to settle, but…” He swallows. “I never meant to hurt you that night I didn’t show up.” You feel your tears panging hot trails onto your cheeks, Jeongguk moving to cup your face to swipe the tears away with his thumbs. “I was still battling with whether I should start over with Min-a. She kept trying to reach out to see me again, and I fell for it a few times, but the second I met you.” His forehead touches to yours while you take in his warmth. “The second I met you, there was no one else I could think about. Not even her. In a fucked-up sense, I wanted closure, too. I thought…” He pauses, pulling away slightly to look into your eyes. “I thought if I gave her a chance to explain, maybe that would be enough for me to move on, but… she never showed up each time she reached out. I knew I made a huge mistake what I did to you and when you were all I continued to think about I knew… I knew it was you I ultimately wanted to be with. I’m so sorry I broke your trust. I’m so sorry I hurt you.”

“No-!” You croak. “No, it’s okay. It’s really okay.” You plea through the tears. His eyes well with them too while you both try to get through this pain. Together. “You were hurting, too. We were hurt by the same people. It’s all so unbelievable, I can hardly understand it.”

“Well, if I haven’t learned anything at all, it’s that karma’s a bitch.” Jeongguk forces a chuckle, brushing a slow, warm kiss to your lips. “I won’t let him hurt you anymore.” You feel the tenderness in his caress. His promise. This time clothes make a trail on the floor to his bedroom where your bodies cling together while love is made through the night. In the end, you hope he is the man that will mend your heart the way you hope to mend his.

No more goodbyes, Cigs.

No more goodbyes.

And that will be your promise.

-

Seven months later…

“Breathe, y/n.” Jeon Jeongguk reminds you as you take in a prolonged, shaky breath. The buzzing of the needle starts to reach your skin while his gloved hands gently touch your limb. “I promise you it’s not that bad. Do you see my arm?”

“I know, Babe. But I have never done this before. Cut me some slack here.” You whine. Closing your eyes, a prick of pain starts to tingle against your skin from the sharp darts of pinches leaving traces of black ink in its wake.

“Good.” Jeongguk encourages. “See, I told you. It’s not that bad-”

He notices you wince when he gets to a different area of your wrist where he is permanently inking your ‘delicate skin’ as you have been referring. You knew you always wanted a tattoo, but it took your forever to figure out what to get. When the idea came to get an ink print of one of Kenai’s paws, you jumped to it. Jeongguk, of course, pretending to be jealous, made it clear that he better be the one who tattoos you. The shop is closed for the day, but Jeongguk being one of the main artists, he’s allowed to do tattoos on his own time, so it is just the two of you in the facility.

You are astonished at how quickly it goes by. The needle stings, but the pain is durable. It definitely is not as bad as you anticipated. It only takes Jeongguk 45 minutes to complete Kenai’s pawprint on the underside of your wrist. “Alright, take a look and tell me what you think and then I’ll apply the wrap.” He sets the needle onto the metal table next to the chair you have been sitting in, and he takes off his gloves.

The skin is red, with small dots of blood as you expected from where the needle etched the ink, but you are blown away by how brilliantly Jeongguk did with your first ever tattoo. “It’s… It’s perfect.” Your voice breaks from the tears brimming. “I love it.” You smile wide.

He chuckles, elated by your response. “I love you.” Preparing the sticky wrap, he carefully places it, afterwards pressing a kiss to your lips. “You did it.” His smile lights up your entire world as he proudly kisses you again.

“Only because of you. I wouldn’t have survived with anybody else.”

“Yes, you would have. It’s not that bad. I told you!” Jeongguk teases, waving his tatted arm in your line of vision while he points at it with his free hand.

“Fine,” you drone. “I would prefer that it be you because it’s more special. Kenai is the love of my life aside from you.” Jeongguk quirks an eyebrow. “What? He loves you, too!”

“Are you sure about that because he’s really gotten Flounder wrapped around his toe bean.”

“He’s got you, too.” You wink.

You moved in with Jeongguk a few weeks ago, adapting to the new life. So far, it’s gone rather well. He may not throw his clothes in the laundry basket, but at least he knows how to make up for it later. Wink wink. You inwardly giggle. Though LenLen was sad to see you leave, not only did Jeongguk get you a job at the bookstore, but you are the store manager which is nice because on breaks, you can just chill at home.

Home being with Jeongguk, Kenai, Flounder and Tetra. The crazy cat couple. Nothing gets better than that.

Jeongguk on the other hand has returned to tattooing. Something he is so talented at that its mind blowing. You are so grateful for how strong of a bond you two have formed since the first day you met. As far as Hoseok, him and Min-a have broken up by the whispers on the street, but you have found a way to forgive him. Especially when he reached out to apologize for how he wronged you and how none of it was your fault. How he should have known Min-a never truly wanted him, and that you are the sole reason his novel became a hit. The day he met you at the park. How you inspired it. You aren’t sure if he knows about Namjoon still, but you are glad he didn’t mention it if he does. You figure he’d tear the book to shreds at that point, but you thanked him for his apology and that you are happy with someone else. Very happy.

Jimin is a friend of you and Jeongguk to this day, but he does not speak about his sister in either presence considering her name is still an open wound. You and Jeongguk are still working on the forgiveness for her, too.

“It’s so amazing.” You awe about your tattoo once more. Jeongguk reaches to hold your other hand. “You’re so talented.”

He shrugs. “It’s a passion… Thank you for trusting me.”

Your lips pull into a gentle smile. “Always and forever.”

Leaning forward, you kiss him again and again and again and again. You love that you can trust that there will not be a goodbye from this glorious human being before you. He will always be your hello the second you wake up, the second you come home and every moment in between. “I love you,” he whispers breathless between kisses and if there weren’t cameras installed for security, you two would be making love right here in this seat.

“I love you too, Cigs.” You whisper against his mouth. “I love you so much.”

[magicshopaholic]

Words Unsaid (Jungkook x OC)

Summary: Jungkook has something he wants to ask you, but the timing just never seems to sit right.

Pairing: Jungkook x OC

Genre: Fluff

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 7.3 K

Warnings: none

A/N: This took longer than expected to post (but a surprisingly short amount of time to write). Savour it, for the angst will be back in full force next fic :D Takes place a couple of weeks after Unfinished Business and can be read standalone.

Tagging: @bbl32 @ggukkieland @bangtannoonalvg @pb-n-juju @juciu @jeoncookie-bts @quarter-life-crisis2 @dreaming-with-happiness @meirkive  @faearchives @margopinkerton @sumzysworld @purpleseoul7 @kflixnet (italics cannot be tagged. If you want to be added to the taglist, drop a comment or ask)

Listen to: "thinking out loud" by ed sheeran

jungkook masterlist | main masterlist

The sun is near setting when lunch comes to a natural end. Namjoon places his credit card on the bill out of habit and, somewhat conscious that it’s not just the two of them here, Jungkook drops his on top of it.

“All good, kid.” Namjoon good-naturedly flicks Jungkook’s credit card off the bill just before the waiter picks it up.

Feeling Lia’s eyes on him, vaguely amused, Jungkook feels his ears heat up and quickly pockets his credit card. “What’s your plan for the rest of the day?” he asks, desperate to change the topic.

“Not much.” He shrugs. “Probably pick up some stuff at this store we saw earlier today, then maybe a walk down the Han if it gets cooler…” He turns slightly as Kaya returns to her seat, fluffing out her hair a bit.

“Seoul has never been this warm, has it?” she remarks. “I’m glad I cut my hair before I came here.”

“It should rain soon,” answers Lia, in her accented English. While her grasp on the language hadn’t necessarily been a surprise to Jungkook, the way it sounded - and how much he liked it - definitely was. She hadn’t ever spoken much English around him, for there was never much of a need, but when Kaya visited and they’d finally met, Jungkook discovered he was obsessed with her English accent. It made her sound older, unattainable and - ironically – more Korean.

“Maybe it will,” says Namjoon, nodding and looking out the glass windows at the sunlight.

“Maybe it will while you’re walking down the Han river,” points out Jungkook. 

“Looking forward to it.”

“Oh, that reminds me - can we make a detour home before we head to the market?” Kaya asks him. “I need to pick up my power bank. My phone’s almost dead.”

Namjoon nods. “Sure. You guys need a ride?” he asks Jungkook and Lia.

“Oh -” They exchange a look, for they were dropped by a company car after Jungkook finished filming a promo. “Actually, yeah,” says Lia, nodding. “We also need to stop by, uh, Jungkook’s house for a minute. You’ll want to change, I guess?”

Jungkook nods mutely, his neck getting hot again. He avoids Namjoon’s eyes; the older member’s subtle questioning a couple of days ago, about how serious is this getting, had been one thing. That, coupled with the abrupt way he and Lia had stopped talking when Jungkook had returned from the men’s room earlier during lunch, made him uneasily conscious that something was still unsaid.

They head out of the restaurant, waiting until Namjoon’s car is brought out by the valet before ducking inside quickly, Kaya in the driver’s seat and Namjoon in the passenger seat next to her. Jungkook notices a few phones out in the open and pointed towards them as they drive away.

“See you tomorrow!” Lia waves at them as they drive away from the porch of Jungkook’s building in Hannam-dong, where his new penthouse sits tucked into the top floor. As the car disappears around a corner, both of them turn around and head inside together.

In the lift, Jungkook watches the numbers increase, his hands in his pockets and his bottom lip between his teeth. The words are there, somewhere, in moments at the tip of his tongue and in others, so far away that they may as well be someone else’s.

“Hey.”

He’s jerked out of his reverie. “Yeah.”

Lia is looking at him, frowning slightly. “Everything okay? You’ve barely said two words since we left.”

“I’m fine,” he answers as the lift stops and they step out, the doors opening right in front of his apartment. “I just, uh…” He pats his pockets and pauses. “... forgot my keys. I think. Shit.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she mutters easily, reaching into her small sling bag for her own keyring and selecting the shiniest one. “This is when it helps to have a spare set with someone else,” she points out.

Jungkook nods sheepishly and steps aside so she can unlock the door to his home. “Actually, Lia…” He takes a deep breath as Namjoon’s face swims to the forefront of his mind, the familiar raised eyebrow and chin tilted upward that, irritatingly knowing but unwilling to give him the answer. No, he would want Jungkook to come up with the answer himself. 

He clears his throat as Lia pauses. “Yeah?”

“Um, I was wondering -” He shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans. Just say it. Say it. He makes the mistake of glancing at her again, her raised eyebrows and - to his slight anxiety - hopeful expression.

Shit.

“Would you, um… do you think you would you like to…” 

Come on now, Jungkook, Namjoon would say sternly. Say it already.

“... try a beef bulgogi tonight? I know we usually do pizza on Sunday nights but I saw this recipe online and I really wanted to try it. Plus, we won’t even have to shop - we have that fillet in the freezer so part of the work is really already done, if you think about it…”

He’s rambling, he knows, but it’s only to try and distract himself from the annoyance at himself as well as the brief but clear disappointment in her expression. Her shoulders fall slightly and she bites her lip, turning back to the door and pushing it open halfway.

“Beef bulgogi sounds great,” she says finally, looking up at him after a moment’s hesitation, and giving him a small smile. “Thanks.”

He follows her inside, still deflated. Lia goes straight to the fridge for a bottle of cold water while he heads into his room, shedding his t-shirt on the way. Turning on the bathroom light, he grabs his facewash from the wall-mounted shelf, half-stocked with haircare products, face scrubs, masks, serums and a tub of scrunchies and claw clips. A Dior perfume he’d gifted her earlier this year was also there next to his own Calvin Klein cologne. 

Realising he’s been staring at her belongings for over a minute with emulsified facewash on his face, he quickly scrubs it off and hurries out, passing by her chest of drawers next to the closets. 

Jungkook wishes he wasn’t such a coward. He wishes he had the exact right words and that his mouth moved on its own to deliver the message to her. She’d helped him set up the apartment when he’d moved in last month; most of her belongings are here, she returns here more often than not after work, half the groceries in the pantry are stocked by her. She has a set of keys, she uses his extra parking space - but none of it matters as long as it’s still Jungkook’s house. 

In the kitchen, Lia is standing by the counter with a bowl of watermelon in front of her, scrolling on her phone. She looks up when he enters. 

“I cut the other half that was in the fridge,” she informs him. “Rest of it is inside.”

He swallows. “Thanks.”

Jungkook doesn’t know what he would do without her. The house feels far too big and empty when she isn’t around and he wishes there were some way for her to get that message without him having to spell it out.

But if you do spell it out, comes Namjoon’s voice again, what’s the worst that could happen.

She could say no and then I could die, he thinks, shuddering.

He stands on the opposite side of the counter and leans over to examine the pink fruit. Lia raises an eyebrow and pops a piece into his mouth. 

“Wow. Sweet,” he comments, voice slightly muffled. 

She half-chuckles and nods, going back to her phone and taking a piece as well.

Say it. But is this really the moment? Does there need to be a moment? What would that moment even look like? What would she want that moment to -

“Kook,” says Lia, slowly placing her phone down. “I was thinking… I’ve been coming over here after work the last few days. And I’ll probably be here tomorrow as well, so…” She bites her lip.

“Yes,” whispers Jungkook breathlessly. If Lia were to ask the question - nothing like it. No chance of rejection, no scope for awkwardness. Of course, if any of the guys got wind of the fact that she had been the one to ask, they wouldn’t let him live it down, especially Jimin. Suddenly, he half-hopes she isn’t asking.

“Do you think it would be weird if, you know…”

Holy shit. Screw Jimin and his opinions. Despite a crappy first date a year ago, if this is really how far they’ve come since then, he should consider himself the luckiest man in the world. Unexpectedly, Jungkook’s heart begins to race. 

“… if I went home on Monday evening? It’s been a while and I have an important meeting on Tuesday and all my blazers are at home so in a way, I have to…”

Jungkook nods mutely, barely hearing her, for his heart is hammering so loudly he can hear it in his teeth. It occurs to him that Lia might have been anticipating the same question and subsequently felt the same disappointment, and it only serves to make him feel worse.

“… take my car, too. Jungkook?”

He looks up warily, irrationally worried his shame might be written on his forehead for her to see, possibly triggering her to pull the plug on this entire thing, this whole relationship, to save herself the embarrassment of dating a silly pop star who can’t string six words together -

“Hm?”

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I’m fine,” he chokes. “Thanks for the, uh, the fruit.”

Lia raises her eyebrows, but there’s a flash of knowing in her eyes. Not wanting to decipher it, for there’s no telling where his mind will take him, he shakes his head slightly and leans forward, kissing her on the cheek.

It doesn’t end there. Later that evening, Jungkook is still reeling from his horrendous inability to pluck up the courage to ask his girlfriend a simple question. The general mood between them seems to have gone back to normal, somewhat, but it nags at the corner of his mind.

They are heading to the executive floor gym in his building, accessible only to the handful of residents on the top floor, when another opportunity seemingly presents itself.

It’s a glorious workout in one of the best gyms in the country; in fact, Jungkook is rather upfront about it being one of the main reasons he chose to buy a property in this particular building in Hannam-dong. Towards the end of a particularly difficult set of reps on the bench press station, Jungkook looks up to see a face, upside down and hovering above him.

“Shit!” he gasps, gripping the barbell tightly so it doesn’t fall on him. 

Eunwoo grins. “What’s up? Wasn’t expecting to see you here today.”

“I could’ve died,” points out Jungkook, sitting up and giving him a friendly dap. “No, Lia wanted to work out, too, and it’s been a, uh… somewhat stressful day.”

“Yeah?” Eunwoo, also sweating and glowing, looks around the gym with his hands on his hips. “Lia is here? Oh, there she is…” He nods at the treadmills where she’s jogging fast, AirPods in and the rest of the world shut out.

They chat for a bit about nothing in particular, catching their breath. Somewhere during the conversation, while they’re at the water station and filling up tiny glasses with fruit-infused ice water, Jungkook wonders if the time has truly come to pick another’s brain. Eunwoo is a good friend and they’ve known each other a while, but it would be the first time he’s actively confided in someone else about his love life. From his experience, it could go either way.

While he’s pondering this, Eunwoo nods and flashes a smile at something over his shoulder.

“Hey, guys.” Lia walks over and pours herself a glass. Her skin pale and glowing, her cheeks flushed lusciously. The ends of her high ponytail stick to her damp collarbones and Jungkook bites his lip without thinking, ridiculously attracted to her at the moment.

“Noona, do you agree with JK’s plan of building a home gym?” Eunwoo asks, seamlessly continuing their discussion. “It’s going to be so much maintenance of equipment,” he tells him, shaking his head.

“Really?” Lia turns to Jungkook, frowning. “When did that happen? I thought you were happy with this gym.”

“I am - and I’m not planning on building a home gym,” he clarifies, suddenly anxious with both sets of eyes on him. “I was just discussing the merits of possibly having one.”

“Such as?”

“Well… privacy, for one. I know the building has good security but they're also fairly lax with allowances,” he points out, not wanting to specify the incident last week that had prompted this train of thought, when he was half-certain he’d spotted someone pointing their phone at him and Lia. 

“Allowances? You mean guests?” Eunwoo wrinkles his nose. “They don’t allow guests in here.”

“Yes, they do.”

“No, they don’t. They don’t allow anybody but residents in the gym.”

There’s a brief but painful pause following his words. 

“They do, actually,” says Lia.

“I don’t think so.”

“Yes, they do,” adds Jungkook tightly, glaring at Eunwoo and moving his eyes deliberately in Lia’s direction, hoping to God he’ll drop it.

Eunwoo frowns slowly, apparently working this out. “What?” he mutters, shaking his head at Jungkook. “No, I’m just saying… wait, how are you so sure?”

“Because I’m technically a guest,” says Lia lightly.

“You are?” Eunwoo raises his eyebrows. “But I thought you were - oh.” To Jungkook’s horror, a blush creeps up his friend’s face. Lia goes still next to him and it takes every ounce of Jungkook’s strength to not turn in her direction.

For the next few seconds or so, the three of them stand there in silence, scarcely making a movement. 

“Excuse me? May I?”

“Yes! Of course, of course -” Jungkook immediately blurts out while Eunwoo practically trips over himself to take a step back and make way for another patron. 

“I’m going to stretch and cool down for a bit,” says Lia, touching Jungkook’s shoulder. “How far along are you?”

“Oh, I still have a bit to finish,” he answers, a bit apologetically. “I was going to box for a bit before ending with cardio.”

“That’s fine, I'll just head back h- uh, to your place and shower… if that’s okay?”

Not least because she hasn’t needed to ask such a question in months, Jungkook nods wordlessly. She gives him a small smile and moves away, and Jungkook watches her leave before turning back around to see Eunwoo giving him a look.

“Shut up,” he mutters.

Eunwoo chuckles as they head over to the boxing bag. “Man, I am so sorry about that. I really thought you’d asked her to move in with you - I thought part of the reason you bought a new house was because you wanted her to move in. You were asking about bathrooms with his-and-her sinks, man. What happened?”

“Okay, first of all, I only asked if you’ve ever seen one in real life - not that I wanted one,” he corrects immediately, strapping on his gloves while Eunwoo gets behind the bag, ready to hold it. 

“And the other thing?”

“I’m working on it,” mutters Jungkook, going into stance and holding his hands up. “I just want to do it right. Make sure it’s a good time, that I’m not hurrying anything - that kind of thing.”

Eunwoo hums and nods. “Well, if it helps, she didn’t seem freaked out. If anything, she looked a little annoyed.”

Jungkook freezes. “She did? She looked annoyed - wait, really? Are you serious?”

His eyes widen. “Wh- no. Not - not annoyed like that. Not like a pissed off annoyed, more like a… like a chill annoyed.” When Jungkook says nothing, he shakes his head. “You know what? Don’t worry about it. Maybe it is too soon. Or maybe it isn’t,” he amends quickly. “What do I know? You know my last three relationships lasted, like, four months each - so I’m probably not the best person to be giving you any kind of advice.”

“That’s the most airtight thing you’ve said so far,” mutters Jungkook. “Alright, I’m coming in.” Waiting a moment for Eunwoo to grip the bag, he cocks his elbow back and punches it.

—

Despite his deadly faux pas, Eunwoo had inadvertently provided Jungkook with a rather helpful bit of direction. Perhaps it is time for him to lean on a friend for advice, but Eunwoo was also right that he is not one of them, not with his flighty flings and lack of depth in them. The advice matters and so does the friend, prompting Jungkook to ask himself: which of his friends is the expert on the opposite of short-term flings?

“Namjoon hyung!”

Namjoon stops in his tracks at the sound of his name and turns, waiting for Jungkook to catch up with him. 

“Oh, thanks,” says Jungkook, taking a cigarette from the pack Namjoon offers him and leaning forward so he can light it. “Thanks for getting us the evening off, by the way.”

“Kaya is leaving this weekend,” is all Namjoon says in response, shrugging.

“Right.” Jungkook nods, taking a drag and blowing it out, wondering briefly if he should care that they might be seen smoking right outside the Hybe building. “Won’t this make you a couple minutes late, though? If you want to make the best of the next few days?”

Namjoon chuckles. “I don’t want to smoke inside the house.”

“Uh-huh. Speaking of which…” He exhales, suddenly nervous. “I was hoping for some advice.” He clears his throat. “Regarding… relationships.”

Namjoons raises his eyebrows but says nothing else. “M-hm.”

“I have reason to believe,” he begins slowly, “that Lia might want me to ask her to move in with me.”

“Okay.”

Jungkook pauses, searching his leader’s face for a hint. Finding none, he continues. “Well… I want to ask her. But I also don’t want her to feel like I’m asking her just because she wants me to ask her. And I also don’t want to mess it up.”

“How would you mess it up?”

“I don’t know… maybe I’m completely off track and she doesn’t want to move in with me at all? Maybe she thinks it’s too soon?”

Namjoon nods, hearing him out. Then he shakes his head. “Well, personally, I don’t think that’s the case.”

“What isn’t? You think she wants to move in?” Jungkook’s momentarily relief is interrupted by a horrifying thought. “Oh, my God - did she say something to you? Yesterday, at brunch, when I went to the men’s room?”

“Jungkook, you were gone for two minutes.”

He’s about to argue but stops himself. He knows Lia and she is hardly the type to secretly vent her feelings to his friends behind his back, hoping it will get back to him. No, she’s more straightforward than that.

Somewhat satisfied, he takes a different turn. “Okay, let’s get down to it, then. How did you ask Kaya to move in?”

“Well…” Namjoon frowns thoughtfully. “Actually, I didn’t.”

“You… what?” Jungkook squints. “Wait, so… you didn’t ask? You both just knew, telepathically, when to start living together?” he asks incredulously, thinking privately that it could just be believable.

“No,” says Namjoon patiently, chuckling again and flicking some ash off his cigarette. “I didn’t ask because I didn’t have to. Where else is she supposed to live when she comes to Seoul? Where am I supposed to live when I go to see her?”

“Yeah… okay, but… well, would you say you live together?” he presses. “Or do you just, like, crash at each other’s place when you visit?”

“Well, we definitely don’t crash at each other’s place,” he mutters. “Maybe we did right in the beginning? I guess I’d say we live apart, but it’s only because we have to. I don’t know - when she came to Seoul for work last year while I was in service, she stayed at Hannam even though her aunt lives in the city, too.” He shrugs. “If that helps.”

“Huh.” Jungkook considers this. “So, like, do you guys ‘go home’ or do you go back to ‘your place’?”

“Home,” he answers casually, not skipping a beat. “Even her apartment is home. ‘Home’ is what you make it, to a large extent. It’s a place of comfort - an apartment is only part of that,” he says wisely. “I feel more at home in her studio apartment in London with her than at Hannam by myself. The people make the home - and that’s for you to decide.”

Jungkook stares, feeling his cigarette burn away in his hand. “That’s really not the kind of thing I’m looking for, hyung,” he states, before dropping his face in his hand.

Namjoon clicks his tongue and stubs his cigarette on the tray atop the trash can next to him. “Don’t overthink it,” he says, clapping him on the shoulder. “Go about it logically: she’s been your girlfriend for six or seven months now, you bought a new place which is significantly bigger than your old one and she’s in her thirties, meaning she’s most likely thinking long-term.” 

Jungkook gazes at Namjoon’s raised eyebrows, quite certain he’s meant to pick up some meaning out of this. “So…”

“So… if you’re worried she might say no…”

“Chances are… she probably won’t?”

Namjoon grins and nods. “Exactly. Just be yourself, be genuine, be honest - and remember you’re both together for a reason. And I think - I think - she has a thing for you, too,” he adds seriously.

“One can only hope,” he mutters, albeit slightly mollified. “I really don’t want to mess this up.”

Namjoon observes him - for too long. For a moment, it seems as though he’s about to say something that makes Jungkook’s stomach jolt unpleasantly, but at the last second, he shakes his head.

“Impossible to mess it up. Honestly,” he says reassuringly, and Jungkook almost believes him. “It’s a part of the journey and if you think she’s expecting it, just take the plunge. Don’t add unnecessary pressure by trying to make it perfect.”

While the last bit simply isn’t in Jungkook’s DNA, he nods anyway. 

—

“Damn it.” 

Lia doesn’t look up from the email she’s writing, despite Dal’s repeated exclamations from the kitchen. Finally, he sticks his head out around the door.

“Did you know the faucet is leaking?”

“Yes,” she mutters, still not looking away from her screen.

“And did you know it’s dripping out of the sink zone and onto the floor?”

“Yeah?”

“And did you know it’s fucking disgusting?”

Lia sighs and finally turns her head to glance at him. “Yes, I know. I mopped it up this morning.”

Dal steps out, frowning. “So this much water leaked in the last six hours?” When Lia nods, he sighs heavily and trudges into the living room, falling onto the sofa. “I suppose we can text the landlord but I don’t know what good that will do.”

“Probably as much as it did when we told him about the seepage in the bathroom ceiling.”

“Yeah. Didn’t realise the kind of shoulder strength you need to baste upwards.” A moment later, he chuckles. “Helped that there were three of us there, though. Jungkook was really looking for any excuse to be around you back then, wasn’t he?”

Without meaning to, Lia feels a smile creep up her face at the memory. “It was cute,” she says, slightly defensive. “And we really needed the extra hands, especially to clean up.”

“Oh, sure.” There’s a comfortable silence, the only sound being the clicking of Lia’s keyboard. “Speaking of,” he speaks, and his tone is slightly different, “I’m surprised to see you here.”

Lia doesn’t look up, but she’s certain she knows where he’s going with this. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. You haven’t been around much.”

“You think so?”

“M-hm. In fact, I was starting to wonder if you’d moved out or something and I missed the memo.”

“You were still paying only half the rent, though, weren’t you?”

“Lia.”

“‘Sup.”

From the corner of her eye, she sees a movement and ducks out of habit.

“Lee-lee,” he says again, and she finally meets his gaze.

“I know what you’re getting at, and no,” she says dryly, “no updates on that front. I’m still your roommate for the foreseeable future.”

Dal raises his eyebrows. “Okay.”

Lia turns back to her laptop but doesn’t resume her typing. “What?”

“What what?”

“You’re still looking at me.”

“No. I’m just looking in your general direction.”

She gives him a look. “Just say it.”

“I thought you were moving in with Jungkook.”

“Why would you think that?”

“Because he told me last time he came over that he wanted you to move in with him.”

Lia scoffs. “No way did he say that. Liar.”

“Fine, he didn’t use those exact words,” he admits, rolling his eyes. “But he just happened to mention that his new place is bigger, that the gym is fantastic, that it has a really good running trail or something…”

“Maybe he was just making conversation?”

“... and how much closer it is to the Hybe office.”

He works at Hybe, too, technically. The words are on the tip of her tongue, but she can’t deflect anymore; Dal will see right through it. She sighs and puts her laptop away.

“What do you want me to say?” she asks steadily. “We aren’t living together. It’s not the end of the world.”

“I’m not saying it is, at all.” He holds up his hands. “Do you want to, though?”

Lia is silent for a moment. “He needs to ask first. But… yeah, I guess. Could be fun. We’ll save on a lot of fuel.”

“Ooh, stop, I’m swooning.”

She flashes him an embarrassed sort of smile. “You know what I mean. We basically do live together already - but this is a big deal for Jungkook. He’s never done the long-term relationship, adult couple milestone thing before. The last thing I want to do is scare him off.”

Dal nods thoughtfully. “Well, hopefully it’ll go better than your last adult couple milestone thing.”

She snorts, covering her face. “Hey, to be fair, I did move in with him,” she points out. “Kind of.”

“You lasted less than a month before you were back here.”

“Yeah. God, he was such a manchild. Can’t believe I was ever attracted to him.”

“I told you he had an asshat kind of face. But you didn’t listen. Didn’t he have a shrine to his ex-girlfriend in the bathroom or something?”

“It was a couple of bottles of her shampoo and lotion, not a shrine,” she corrects him, “but, sort of. He was so blown away when I asked him to get rid of it - like, sue me, I don’t want to live with my boyfriend and sentimental haircare products belonging to his ex. It just goes to show, you never know enough about your partner until you actually share a living space together.”

“You think there’s more to Jungkook? Because I like him for you, honestly. But he seems to be a more…” Dal grimaces, trying to find the word, “... what you see is what you get… kind of person.”

“That’s a good thing,” she remarks. “Means there’s no lying, no games. None of that shit.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Well, it’s good you know what you want. How long are we planning to wait for him to pop the question?”

“We are not waiting for anything. I, on the other hand…” 

It’s a good question, unfortunately, one that Lia has deliberately tried not to think about because there’s simply no correct answer.

“... will take things as they come.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

She narrows her eyes at her oldest friend, recognising both teasing masking genuine concern. “I’m not going to pressure Jungkook. And I’m not going to get my hopes up either,” she states, trying to ignore the quiet tugging at her heart and standing up, stretching.

“Hey, just say the word and I will -“ Dal makes a flailing kind of gesture and flexes his triceps, “- whip him into shape.”

“Oh, really? Not only will it probably be evenly matched, but who’s going to help you both carry cartons of beer into each other’s houses if you’re both maimed?” She taps her temple sarcastically.

“Well, you’ll be a resident in one of our houses at any given time so I guess we’ll be looking at you.” Dal shrugs in satisfaction as Lia chuckles and starts heading inside her bedroom, considering a shower before bed.

“Oi, Lia.” 

Lia turns in her doorway, recognising the subtle change in tone once again. It wasn’t surprising that Dal and Jungkook got along easily enough; despite her boyfriend’s initial reservations, most of which were based on Dal’s gender and inopportune timing, he had eventually moved past it to begin actually enjoying his company. Oh, he would never admit it, but Lia had woken up more than once in her own bed, alone, while hearing two male voices laughing in the living room with the television on.

As for Dal, the only thing he had needed to say was “Lee-lee, for once, you’ve found a good boy.”

Therefore, while Lia prefers to handle her relationships herself, she recognises the value of her oldest friend’s opinion.

“I just want to let you know,” he begins seriously, and she feels the muscles in her face go slack. He bites his lip. “I just wanted to let you know,” he repeats, “that if Jungkook has a shrine to his ex in his house, you can always move back in here.”

There’s relief, and Lia doesn’t want to admit there’s relief. “Shut up,” she mutters, turning back around as Dal laughs at his own joke behind her.

It’s not the greatest comfort, but Lia uses it as such after that. Worst case, I move back in with Dal, she thinks. We stay roommates until we’re eighty, when either I die first from stress about work or he does driving his car like a maniac. Jungkook brings a carton of beer to the funeral and shares it with whichever one of us is still alive.

It’s a mildly depressing train of thought, especially when she imagines her eighty year old self heading back to her apartment while seventy-seven year old Jungkook, in his infinite wisdom, still hasn’t asked her to move in with him.

Nearly a week later, Lia has successfully kept her desires to herself, while Jungkook has continued trying to pretend he isn’t thinking about it just as much.

“Remind me again why we’re going to this club?” she asks him as they walk to his car in the basement parking. “It doesn’t really sound like your scene.”

“It isn’t,” he admits. “But the DJ tonight is a friend of a friend… of an acquaintance, who’s also kind of an ex-colleague.” He wrinkles his nose. “I wouldn’t normally go but he helped me out during the production of my debut album and I accidentally told him I owed him.”

“Ah. Mistake number one.”

“It might be. You look quite club-ready for someone who doesn’t really enjoy clubs either,” he remarks, playfully smacking her backside. “Leather pants and everything.”

“Faux leather,” she corrects, leaning over and bumping his hip with hers. “I figured I may as well look the part of a popstar’s girlfriend. Plus,” she adds after a moment, as they climb into the car and begin strapping in, “it’s the only party outfit I have at your place.”

Predictably, Jungkook freezes for a moment before clumsily buckling himself in. He doesn’t meet her eyes and swallows as he looks ahead.

“By the way, I hear the gin martinis at this club are to die for,” he declares, completely transparent. “Did you know, the martini is one of the top five drinks people order on a first date?”

Abrupt subject change coupled with a random fact that doesn’t sound completely true; Jungkook is nervous. It’s exasperating and endearing all at once.

“That’s… interesting. Maybe you should’ve invited your single friends tonight. Or if this DJ is an ex-colleague, at least the ones in your group.”

“What, all two of them?”

“Isn’t it three?”

“I don’t think so.” Jungkook shrugs as they pull out of Hannam Hill. “Or maybe it is. I don’t know. Yoongi hyung isn’t very forthcoming about his dating life and I’m too afraid to ask.”

Lia chortles as they turn into the main road, reaching for her party clutch for her phone, when she realises…

“Oh, no,” she mutters under breath.

“What?”

“I, uh…” She bites her lip, internally swearing at herself. “I was moving stuff from my regular bag to the clutch and I forgot… you know what, can we make a quick detour to my apartment? It’s on the way.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes, it is. If you take a right after the signal then you can take the parallel road to the church at the end of my street.”

“That’s not the same road - and come on,” he whines, his shoulders falling. “I don’t want to take a detour. What did you even forget? Power bank? Because my phone is fully charged.”

“It’s not a power bank - look, it’s kind of important, Jungkook. It’ll take, like, five extra minutes.”

“But -”

“Kook!”

“What? What did you even forget that’s so important? Is it make-up or something? Because you look -”

“It’s tampons, Jungkook.”

“It’s -”

“Tampons,” she repeats. “And I don’t want to stop at a drugstore because they may not have the exact brand that I use and most of the others chafe… down there.”

There’s a few seconds of silence while Jungkook stares out of the windshield as the car zooms down the road, his ears turning red.

“Which signal was it again?”

True to her word, they reach her three-storey apartment building a few minutes later and jog up the stairs together.

“I swear, I just need to pick up a couple of extras,” she promises him. “The last time I was caught without any on me and then I had to borrow one and it was just the worst time I - oh, my God!”

Lia gasps as she stops in her tracks in the doorway of her apartment, Jungkook right next to her. 

“Is that -”

“Water,” she sighs, shaking her head. “Shit, it came into the living room? I thought we fixed that damn leak,” she mutters. She places her hands on her hips and looks up at Jungkook.

“Well?”

Jungkook looks blank. “Well… what?”

“Well… I’m going to have to wade in there,” she says slowly, already dreading it. “Do you want to come?”

“Ordinarily, I would love to because that sounds so fun, but these are Balenciaga.” He raises his right leg to show her his shoes, mimicking her position until Lia looks away.

“Alright. Wait here then,” she tells him, before gingerly placing one heeled foot into the water and cringing in anticipation. It reaches ankle deep, missing the hem of her pants only due to the height of her heels. With no specific attachment to her shoes, she takes a couple of more hesitant steps.

“Ugh, I can hear the faucet dripping from here,” she grumbles. “Sure you want to just wait out there?”

“Totally. You’re doing great, though, baby.” He grimaces as she walks further in. “Is it cold? It looks cold.”

“No, it’s room temperature. I’m just glad it hasn’t reached the sofa or the cushions or anything in the - whoa!” Lia grabs the arm of the chair beside her as she slips, thankfully saving her ankles as her knee breaks the fall.

There’s a sound of splashing before Jungkook is right next to her a second too late. “Shit, you okay?”

“Uh, yeah. No injuries, I think.” She twists to see him kneeling next to her. “What happened to your Balenciagas?”

It seems to have occurred to him only now. “Oh…” He looks down at his shoes, now submerged. “I can try blow drying them, probably?”

“Probably.” She tries to hide a smile before giving up. “Take them off before they get any more damaged, though.”

He takes her advice this time and they both rid themselves of their shoes, tossing them on the chair before splashing their way into the kitchen.

Jungkook whistles. “Wow, that’s some leak,” he remarks, following her as she falls to her knees to get a good look at the thin but steady stream of water spilling from a crack in the pipe. “Is this the only leak?” he wonders out loud before pressing his hand against the crack so the water suddenly stops.

“No, there’s a small one here, too,” she answers, squinting at something on the other side of the pipe, a little higher up. “It’s only a few drops out of this one but it’s still bad enough.”

“Maybe we can -” Jungkook grunts and tugs at the pipe, “- wrench it into place? To block this crack?”

“Doubtful. It’s a really old pipe, too, so I’m afraid it might break.”

“It’s metal - can metal break?”

“I mean… yeah? I guess? Look, it’s all rusted up here.”

“Oh, yeah…”

In his effort to look, Jungkook’s hand slips off the crack and the flow of the water resumes. 

“Okay, this can’t go on - we need to block this for now so we can get rid of this fucking flood,” she decides, noting in worry how the water level is slowly rising. “And I’m calling the landlord tomorrow and giving him a piece of my mind.”

“Um -” Jungkook looks around from his position by the pipe. “We have a towel, some flour and stuff… maybe we stick some dough onto it?”

“Worth a shot but I don’t know if it’ll hold till tomorrow. Maybe we should try moving the pipe,” she admits, holding the top of it and wondering if it’ll work.

“Okay, let’s do that. Worst case, we find a plastic or metal box, cut it in just the right dimensions to cover the crack and fix it around the pipe.”

“Worst case.” 

Jungkook waves her over and they grip the pipe together. “If this goes south, just remember that I love you.”

Despite the chaos and the fact that her faux leather pants are damp and disgusting, Lia snorts. “Shut up, you dork. Come on, let’s do this.” Both of them pull the top part towards the lower one to try and close the gap.

“A little to the left, come on…”

“It’s - not - moving -” Lia bites her lip and jerks the pipe back, accidentally slipping again and falling back onto her boyfriend. The jolt makes Jungkook tip over and the pipe twists on the rust, bursting.

“Oh, my - “ Jungkook’s words are cut off when a jet of water hits him square in the face. Lia gasps and reaches for the pipe as he fumbles, sputtering, and lunges towards the pipe to turn it away.

“Jungkook, no! It’ll break if you -” 

But Lia is cut off as well and almost knocked backwards by the force of the water. It’s everywhere now; her clothes, her hair - she’s fully drenched. Next to her, Jungkook looks like he’s been dunked into a lake, his long thick hair sticking to his forehead.

“Take cover!” he yells, pulling open a cabinet behind him with one hand and yanking something out, while the other hand covers the jet of water uselessly. He replaces it with the lid of a cooking pan and tosses her another one which splashes into the water next to her.

“Thanks! I - Jungkook!” She brandishes the utensil while trying to dodge the water. “It’s a sieve!”

“What?”

“It has holes!”

“I can’t see! Wait -” He crawls towards the cabinet but slips midway, swearing loudly. 

“Careful!” She ducks and tries to get to the pipe but feels him grip her forearm and pull her back.

“You’ll hurt yourself!” he yells, handing her another pan. “Jesus - how did you guys let this stupid faucet get this bad?”

“I told you - our landlord is a jackass who ghosts us if we bring up fixtures!”

“Well -” Jungkook pauses, wincing a little as the water continues to ricochet off the pan he’s holding up. “In that case, this is probably as good a time as any to ask you this, but do you want to move in with me?”

Lia almost swallows a mouthful of tap water. “What?”

“Just - I mean, this apartment is unlivable!” he says loudly. “And I’m a much better landlord! And also -” He gags and spits out some water, “- I love you and all!” He shrugs awkwardly, drenched to the bone with his oversized t-shirt sticking to his shoulders and chest.

Lia tries - she really tries - to keep a straight face, to attempt to understand what goes on in Jungkook’s head. But it’s a lost cause, for at the end of the day, whatever it is, it just works. Through the irritation at her landlord and the general shock of being waterboarded by a broken pipe, she sees it. A shine in his doe eyes, a hint of nervousness. 

She doesn’t realise immediately why the water hits her suddenly with force or why Jungkook’s eyes widen belatedly.

“What are you doing? The water is - oh.” The anticipation turns into the beginnings of a smile when he works out why she has knee walked all the way towards him and he stands on his knees as well, just as she reaches him and places her arms around his neck, and kisses him.

When she pulls away, he’s grinning. “That’s a yes?”

“That’s a thank God you finally asked.” 

Jungkook nods sheepishly. “I wanted it to be perfect, honestly. I was just waiting for the right time and -” He sighs, shaking his head so droplets of water fall from his hair.

“You know what? I think this, unexpected as it was, is pretty perfect,” she says honestly. “So… I guess that’s a yes,” she clarifies, meeting him in a kiss once again.

There’s a muffled sound and then a splash, followed by a gasp.

“Oh, my God! What the fuck?”

Jungkook jerks away, pursing his lips. “As long as he is never allowed in our house,” he declares, glaring and pointing in the direction of the living room.

She gives him a look. “Pretty sure you’ll crack before I do on that front,” she guesses, just as Dal appears in the doorway of the kitchen, looking incredulous.

“What the fuck happened in here?”

“What do you think? That damn faucet,” she snaps, pointing at it. “This is the landlord’s problem now - he and his insurance can handle it.”

“I agree, but - God, are you guys okay?”

“Yeah, we were using lids…” Jungkook picks his up and places it in front of the stream of water, much more unfazed about it now than he was before. 

“Lids? Why didn’t you guys just turn off the water?” Taking a long step across the flooded kitchen floor, he reaches for a panel behind the left-most cabinet and twists a lever - and the water stops.

Speechless, Lia turns to look at Jungkook who is looking back at her with equal dismay. “We thought of dough before we thought of turning off the water,” he mutters, shaking his head.

“And we’re taking it to the grave,” she replies, squeezing his hand.

He’s wet, his designer clothes ruined - but Jeon Jungkook is glowing. A moment later, he squeezes her hand back.

“Deal.”

—

Thank you for reading. Don’t forget to leave a review :)

[singguks]

are you afraid to fall in love? » i'm afraid of being the only one who falls.

[ they are sent undercover as newlyweds to catch a terrorist, the only problem is that she hates him and he loves to annoy her. ❤️‍🩹 read it here ]

» taglist !

@magicshopew @narimiese @socksjinie @callmeharin @yundota @investigativelewis @httpextaevaganza @dulcetdevil3 @itshanic @teresaisla @allfortete @niniklip @ggukkieland @iamunrecognized @diminieshoe @bluenpjm @taespocket @sofiameetsevil @rcseluv @tangyguk @agustlee @bibliotae @joonipie @itsceesaw @september-husband @dropsofjoonpiter @telejoonie @hobilyss @starvvie

[hisunshiine]

—grey area: avoiding the red | ksj

📈pairing: CFO!seokjin x senior accounting manager!reader 📈au/genre: CEO au, fake dating au, c2l, fluff, smut, angst 📈rating: M 📈wc: 27,659 📈warnings: swearing, vulgar statements, misogyny, eventual mutual pining, fake dating bet, leg injury/sprain, minor boat crash, explicit sexual content: strawberry juice dripping, straddling, making out, clothed grinding, marking, fingering, consent seeking, foreplay, unprotected sex, cock riding, wall sex, stairs sex, mutual orgasm, breast play, oral (f & m receiving), cum swallowing, hair pulling   📈an: beta readers: @peachiilovesot7, @downbad4yoongi, @heathfritillary-blog, @colormepurplex2, @moonleeai, @pennpad-bts thank you so much for all of your beta reading and brainstorming and help! to all my readers who have stuck by me, you mean the world. I am so sorry it took me so long to post this, but it's finally here! 📈summary: Recently inducted CFO Kim Seokjin is the head of finances at JinHit Conglomerate after his father retires. You, the senior accounting manager for the company, begin to stomp around in your heels complaining about areas that need mitigating for the business to continue to run smoothly after a meeting gone wrong. When Seokjin makes a bet with you to see if the two of you can hide a romantic relationship from work peers, several things are revealed OR The one where Seokjin wants to get you only in your heels.

taglist: @flxrcnt @ggukkieland​ @yoongisdragon​

masterlist | one | two | three | four | you are here | six | seven

in the red (idiom): spending and owing more money than is being earned

Jaw clenched tightly as you ignore the tension running through your body, your finger slowly scrolls the webpage you’re viewing on your laptop. Price tags be damned, you couldn’t care less about the cost of the bejeweled heels—you had to have them. It will just have to wait a few paychecks before you can purchase them. If you could even afford them after today. The Saeda 100 Unicorn Printed Satin Pumps with Crystal Embellishment; a gorgeous colored pump that would be the pièce de résistance to an all black or white outfit. 

Online shopping is one of your favorite coping skills, a great calming technique to get your mind off the email you received almost a half hour ago, for a meeting you were summoned to attend in five minutes. A meeting JinHit’s Board of Directors summoned you to attend, to be exact. You checked the email several times, opening the list of recipients to full view to see everyone who was invited, and the vein throbbing in your forehead pulses at the reminder. 

Only the C-Suite and the heads of each department will be in attendance, and the knowledge of what this could mean sends a shiver down your rigid spine. Seokjin had asked you to prepare the financial report last week for the board to review; it doesn’t seem coincidental that the meeting is being called a day after you sent it. 

Adjusting your position where you sit in the meeting room currently, having arrived earlier than normal to choose your favorite seat, you cross a leg over your thigh, bouncing your matte black Balenciaga Knife 110MM pumps in time with your anxiety.

“Can you please just relax?” Seokjin mutters. “The constant bouncing is giving me a headache.”

You grit your teeth, molars grinding against each other as you hold back your remarks. Easy for you to say, you think, not all of us have the luxury to relax. Stilling the ankle that was flexing up and down in a jittery dance, you lower your leg and straighten your slacks.

“I’m sorry, sir.” My leg wouldn’t bother you if you hadn’t followed me from the accounting wing. “The board meeting has me worried. If office gossip on WeVerse is anything to go by, I’m afraid we might not be employed for much longer.” 

Jin twirls a Montblanc fountain pen worth more than your monthly rent as he stares at you, nonplussed. 

“I highly doubt that, Kicks. There’s no need to exaggerate. You’re busy looking at expensive heels again, anyway, so it’ll be fine.”

You huff at the nickname he’s bestowed upon you for your shoe obsession, rolling your eyes as you close them before taking a deep, deep breath and letting it out slowly.

“Maybe you’ll still be CFO of JinHit, sir, but not all of us are nepo-babies. If anyone is going to be fired, it’ll be me. So I’m looking at heels to see the last thing I can purchase with my severance pay before I’m destitute. Sir.” 

“I don’t know why you bother keeping up pretenses by calling me ‘sir’ when you talk to me like that,” he mutters. “Calling me a damn nepo-baby.” 

You run down the list of all of the attendees in your head once more. Kim Namjoon, CEO, Kim Seokjin, CFO, Min Yoongi, General Counsel (the company's main attorney and primary source of legal advice), Jung Hoseok, JinHit Entertainment Division manager, Kim Taehyung, recently promoted Property Acquisition Division Manager, Jeon Jungkook, CIO, yourself, and a few other heads of departments you aren’t as familiar with. Lastly, all of the board members, minus Park Jimin’s father, though he’s in the room instead, stepping in for his father who is away on vacation.  

“You make me laugh, Kicks. I’m so glad to have you by my side.” Seokjin can’t help but chuckle. 

“If only I could say the same,” you grumble under your breath.

“One day, you’ll say you love me.”

Rolling your eyes, you turn your attention to the men walking in through the door. Discreetly you close the tab to the Jimmy Choo website and pull up your email instead, awaiting the soft ding! that alerts you to the agenda and any additional documents you will need. 

The room is full of the sounds of creaking leather and quiet chatter as the gentlemen settle into their seats for the meeting to commence. 

📈📈📈📈📈

“This is an outrage!”

“What have the heads of finance been doing? Getting their fucking dicks wet by fucking secretaries in the janitor’s closet?” 

You narrow your eyes at the older man who had the audacity to speak in such a way during a meeting, seemingly forgetting that the Senior Accounting Manager is you, and that you do not have a dick to fuck said secretary with.

“Please, Mr. Choi, the finance department has been working just as much as everyone else, and the Senior Accounting Manager,” the CEO gestures to you as he reminds the man of your name, “she has been more than transparent with me about the state of our finances for this quarter.” 

The other men in the room appear to have the wherewithal to look flummoxed at Mr. Choi’s outburst in the presence of a woman, but their reactions don't keep his thin lips quiet. 

“So, she’s the one getting fucked in the janitor’s closet. Either way, the finances are abysmal and something must be done!” Mr. Choi throws a printed copy of your financial report in your direction, and you can see the top sheet flutter onto the floor with your name splashed across it. He was being obtuse on purpose—he knew damn well who prepared the financial report.

Seokjin’s hand clamps down on your thigh, holding you back from lunging across the table at the grey-haired misogynist as he speaks. 

“Please, Mr. Choi, I know you’re a little jealous that no one is fucking you,” everyone in the room laughs at Seokjin’s light banter, “but I promise you, the finance department is working on options to help make up for the expenses.”

Incensed, Mr. Choi stands up, face red with fury at being made a fool. You almost expect him to turn his ire on Seokjin for his words, but the reality of the situation is that Mr. Choi would never dare to curse out the son of the previous CFO and namesake of the company. 

“As the Senior Accounting Manager,” he starts with a sneer, “you should’ve had a better handle on what was happening right under your nose.” He thrusts his fat finger at you, spittle flying as his anger gains traction. “This is why women shouldn’t be in positions like this. You’re useless to this company, and if it were up to me, I would fire you for letting the company get so close to the red line. Seokjin, she reflects poorly on you.”

“Mr. Choi.” Namjoon’s tone is final as he rises to his feet, dragon eyes cutting daggers. “Please respect my employees.” The ‘or else’ is not said, but implied.

You shake with rage, holding back tears of frustration at how no one is coming to your defense. Sure, the CEO asked the board member to respect you, but only after said board member had already besmirched your name. After he had so rudely made insinuations about how poorly he thinks of you and ignored that Kim Seokjin is the Chief Financial Officer and the true overseer of the finances. No one says anything to defend your honor or put the man in his place for talking to an employee this way.

“I’ll respect her when she does her fucking job right! You have until the first quarter of the new year to fix this shit.” Mr. Choi turns and leaves the room dramatically, and for once, you’re glad that you didn’t say anything, because you aren’t fired—yet. Had you opened your mouth, you might have been.

The rest of the room quietly turns to light talk as you direct your heated face to the open report on your laptop. The finances for the year highlight some of the major spending across the departments totalling several million once all added together; several million that were not accounted for at the start of the year when budgets were drawn up and outlined. 

First, there was the $2 million dollar loss from the Property Acquisition department thanks to one Kim Taehyung and late paperwork, then stocks dropped from the Facebook video released of C-Suite members and the impromptu start of the non-profit side company NAMU. The cost of going green to implement practices to support NAMU and raise the value of the stocks once again, and the cost of acquiring a new partnership with LeeCo Cosmetics due to Hoseok’s arranged marriage.  

“Ahem,” Namjoon clears his throat, calling everyone’s attention. “Now that everyone has had ample time to review the finance report, I think the best way forward is to come up with a plan to implement for the start of the next quarter to change the projection of the report away from the red line.”

“How long do we have to develop a plan?” Seokjin asks, eyes darting over to your silently seething frame.

“You have the month, Jin. December will be spent researching in order to make a decision and create a plan to implement in January. We will re-evaluate the financial report at the end of the first quarter to ensure that there are no negative consequences for the decisions we’ve made, and go from there. Remember, the fiscal year ends March 31st, so we only have the quarter to fix this. Dismissed.”

The room empties out, with Namjoon cutting his eyes at Seokjin to keep him seated. You still needed to gather the documents and calm down before you did something rash, so it’s just the three of you left once the door swings shut.

“Seokjin, I understand why, but do you have to always be so unserious?” Namjoon sighs out. 

“What do you mean? I was just giving back what he was dishing out,” Seokjin defends, not seeing the issue with what transpired. 

“You know he went and called your dad as soon as he walked out of the room, right?”

“And? The man retired—I’m the CFO now, not my father. It’ll be fine!”

Namjoon just stares at him, before giving you a pitying look that you despise. You know he means it more as sympathy for how you were treated, but it makes you feel different from the others somehow, like you can’t handle the atmosphere of the “wealthy businessmen club”. He nods at you both before he stands and leaves, and Seokjin is not far behind him. 

You bend down to gather the documents once your breathing has regulated. 

You were right to have been worried about this meeting.

The first week after that dreaded meeting, you spend your time researching the various financial avenues the company has and begin to dissect them for potential areas of mitigation. Seokjin pulls you aside into one of his many offices, this one located on the financing floor, and tries to talk to you about what happened with Mr. Choi, but you don’t let him get but a few words out before cutting in to tell him off for letting you take the blame as soon as the door closes behind you. 

“You actually sat there and didn’t say anything to that sexist pig!” You jab Seokjin in the chest to emphasize the last three syllables. “I should report him to HR for sexual harassment! That’ll teach the geriatric asshole.” 

Grabbing your shoulders gently, Seokjin leans his face down to your height. Maintaining a calm, soothing tone, he attempts to placate you. “Kicks, I did speak up, but he’s my godfather and I can’t go around cursing my daebu (대부) at work—”

“You didn’t speak up to support me, Seokjin, you made a joke and defended the department, but he was attacking me, and you didn’t say shit. None of you did.”

Pulling away from him, you wrap your arms around yourself as if to self-soothe with a hug, taking several deep breaths to compose yourself. His touches have been growing more frequent lately, and you can’t tell if it’s because you’re acting like a deranged woman since the dreaded meeting, or if you’re noticing it because of other reasons. Not that you would ever date a coworker or anything… 

Stepping away from him allows you a chance to breathe, despite how nice it feels when he uses physical contact to comfort you. Arranging your features, you steady yourself as you turn on your heel to face him again. 

“I’m sorry for my language, sir. If you will excuse me, I’ll take my lunch now and then we can meet to discuss my findings.” 

Without waiting for Seokjin to respond, you step around him and exit his office. You walk towards your desk and grab your convertible laptop and a thin manila folder before you head out of the finance wing. Trekking through the hallways to the elevator, you shake off the outburst as you pass through the waist-high metal safety gate and into the lobby. You hear a high-pitched voice yell out your name.

“Hey, I know you’re plenty busy, but I’ve been tasked with spearheading the holiday party committee, and we need your approval for the budget. Can you sign off on these documents for me?” Ji-Soo asks. “If I had the time, I would run this up to finance,” she adds, “Seokjin is so hot…Damn. How do you handle working so closely with him?”

The front desk representative bats her kohl-lined eyes at you, swinging her long black hair over her shoulder. Her flowy off-the-shoulder blouse reveals a cute, tiny heart-shaped tattoo inked onto her skin. You hate her insinuation that you’re attracted to your boss and the way her eyebrows move as if to suggest that you and Seokjin are anything like her and Jimin. You may find him good-looking, but you have more sense than to be seen C-Suite hopping.  

Ignoring her second question, you respond, “I’m on my way to grab lunch, but I can review the documents and let you know if the budget is approved.”

Ji-Soo’s face morphs into one of distaste.

“Why do you need to review it? Can’t you just sign it now? Seokjin always approved the holiday party budgets in the past.”

You groan, knowing that you would be competing with the legacy Seokjin left behind after his promotion to CFO after his father stepped down for retirement. When it was okay to be fiscally irresponsible, because other employees hadn’t racked up millions in expenses out of the blue. 

“Sorry, Ji-Soo. Orders from the stakeholders—all budgets have to be reviewed before approval.” You grasp the papers she unceremoniously brandished at you and tuck them into the manila folder. “I’ll get this back to you once it’s been properly assessed.”

“Hey!” Ji-Soo calls after you as you walk away from her, “I need that by the end of the week! Party planning is not cheap!”

Feet still moving, you wave your hand over your shoulder at her, not bothering to spare her a glance. “End of the week, got it!”

Lunch is boring; you hadn’t actually meant to leave for your thirty-minute break today, but after your outburst you felt some exercise would do you good. The small cafe near the office building is the perfect spot to set up your laptop and browse through documents, the Jimmy Choo website, and perk up with a late afternoon latte. 

Opening up the fillable PDF file for budget assessment proposals, you begin reviewing the holiday party plans. It pains you to see some of the outlandish expenses they want: an ice sculpture of the company logo, open bar with top-shelf liquor, performance by an upcoming American artist breaking into the scene, and several gift packages for raffles, just to name a few.

Downing the rest of your coffee, you type up your review and draft an email to Ji-Soo, attaching a PDF scan of her proposal and your budget assessment, denying her requests. You ask her to reduce the cost of the party by several hundred thousand, providing a list of things she can mitigate to reach the approved goal, and then you turn on your auto reply so as to avoid her wrath. Walking back into the office building, you blend in with the after lunch crowd and make it back to the small finance department conference room to meet with Seokjin. 

Seokjin’s POV

Kim Seokjin sits in the conference room in finance, several levels away from his office where the other C-Suite executives reside, waiting for you. Seokjin has worked with you for several years in finance before his promotion, and you were by far the most qualified Senior Accounting Manager he’s ever met. 

He knows he’s lucky to have you, and not just for your skills and personality—you’re also easy on the eyes. Seokjin’s always been tempted to ask you out, cross that boundary of coworkers, but the timing’s never been right. With his promotion at the start of the year, the chasm has gotten wider, his resolve fading with it. 

After you leave for your lunch break, he settles into the conference room replaying the way your hips swayed as you walked away from him. Chuckling at the way your perfect image cracked and he got to hear his name roll off of your tongue—that is until the smile is wiped away as he remembers what led to it. You were right. He didn’t defend you in that meeting earlier in the week, simply too gobsmacked by Mr. Choi’s choice of words to even think clearly. The image it put into his head, you in the hallway closet with those legs wrapped around his waist, letting him fuck you into oblivion—in just those heels you stomp around in, so authoritative-like…Seokjin licks his lips as his fingers clench the edge of his desk, before he shakes the image away. 

He hates that you feel like you do; growing up he spent so much time at the office, running around with Namjoon as their dads built the company from the ground up, and the women in the office always took care of them. 

Mrs. Im was the payroll bookkeeper when he was just a child; his love for numbers and accounting started with her. She tutored him in math through primary school, even helping him pass the Suneung, or the CSAT national test, to get into college. He saw how hard it was for her to move up in the department, often being looked over for her male counterparts, despite being better than them. As far as the finance department goes, payroll is the lowest on the totem pole. Mrs. Im only made it one level up to Staff Accountant, despite being able to count circles around the men and it never seemed fair.

Now, the company is much more with the times, with many women in not only the finance department, but in information technology, and men in nontraditional roles as well, like the secretary who is in the entertainment department, Kai. As for your position, the only person above you in the hierarchy is himself, and some days Seokjin wishes he could promote you into his role for all your hard work. He curses his daebu in his head for the way his backwards thinking has negatively affected you, and then curses himself for not being able to support you the way you deserved in that meeting. 

Seokjin fields text messages from his father about the company’s finances, Namjoon’s assumption that Mr. Choi called his father, having been correct. It’s been an ongoing conversation since the moment he left the meeting—his father bothering him day and night about his behavior.

아버지 (Father) - 12:48 pm : You should not have spoken like that in a meeting. Choi told me that you were talking back, not taking any accountability for the financial crisis the company could be facing, and that girl was impertinent. For once, can you just take this job seriously? Can you take your life seriously? Jin - 12:49 pm: Aren’t you retired?

Once your lunch break ends, Seokjin can’t hide the smile on his face as you enter the room, setting your belongings on the table with a sigh. 

“Ji-Soo stopped me as I was leaving to talk about the holiday party. Can we discuss it at the end of the meeting?”

“Of course. Let’s get the business out of the way, then.”

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“Absolutely not.”

“But sir, the amount of money that we spend every month on the Friday event, especially with it being a half day of work getting done…even to reduce it for the first quarter could make significant gains to remain in the black.”

Seokjin crosses his arms across his chest, leaning back in the office chair. 

“You have to understand, Kicks. The Friday event is only once a month. It’s important for employee morale, not to mention the amount of impact we have on the community right here. There’s the Cho family who runs the Korean street food truck. Half of their monthly revenue comes from this one day. The parents have a daughter in college and she has a small son they look after while she’s in class. They wouldn’t be able to support them both without us.”

You level Seokjin with a gaze that he wishes he could act upon, taking you up on the challenge it serves.

“You want to continue Fun Fridays to save this ONE restaurant?” you ask, leaning your elbows onto the table as you peer closely at Seokjin, analyzing him. Your hands are clasped tightly in front of you as you hold back the urge to fix the wayward strand of hair that falls across his forehead.

“Well, no—not just this one. It helps all of the local companies who come out to provide for us—this was just an example that should pull at your heartstrings.” Seokjin leans towards you, placing his hand atop yours to sell the sentimental connection he’s using to keep Fridays as is. “These are real people who rely on us. And our employees rely on them. People want to work here and our stocks do well because the employees brag about once-a-month Fridays on WeVerse. It would be foolhardy to our reputation to remove it.” He gestures dramatically with his hands to emphasize just how foolhardy he finds it, and you suddenly miss the warmth of his hand on yours. 

“Fine.” You look down at the next item on the list, gathering your thoughts away from the dangerous path of Seokjin’s hands on yours. “My next proposal is to make a change to the employee health benefits. I looked into it and we can lower company costs if we choose the specific provider for employees. I’ve found a clinic with three primary care doctors that provided us with an estimate. They project to have a great low cost for the company and there would be less contribution from the employees as well. A win-win.”

You smugly slide over the information you gathered for Seokjin’s review. He can’t help but admit to himself that this is a possible option. He doesn’t like that it would throw off the plans already in place, but as long as the doctors are reputable, he feels confident in this choice. 

“Can you tell me a little bit about the clinic or the doctors we would be assigned?”

“Sure, uh, their names are…Hyun Yong-in, Jung Hyun-tae and Lee Wan-soo. They work for—”

“—Incheon 21st Century Hospital,” Seokjin interrupts. You glower at him. 

“Next idea.”

“What? Why?!”

“Because, Kicks, if you had done a little more digging, you would know why the fee is so low. They had a massive lawsuit, malpractice and fraud, allowing interns and assistants to perform surgery on patients without consent or supervision. They should’ve lost their licenses. I didn’t realize they were done with their jail time. Two years goes by fast.”

He watches you pale visibly at the news, just a few shades lighter than normal as you swallow the information. Folding his convertible laptop so that it becomes a touchscreen tablet, he taps for a few moments before proffering the screen to you. 

“Oh,” you gulp. “Well, I have one more idea to help the company.”

Pulling out the printed paper from the manila folder, you pass the list of departments to Seokjin for him to review. 

“These are all of the departments of JinHit Conglomerate with a brief description of what they handle.” Leaning over, you point to a small subsection under the Information Technology sector. “This right here is a small department that is listed under IT, but could also be considered Marketing. It houses the Social Media Managers—three employees who oversee engagement, content, and analytics for the company’s online platforms and presence.”

Seokjin nods.

“Yes, they are the ones who caught wind of the video Khaity posted…We had to make sure that moving forward they didn’t contact the board first, but me and Joon.” Seokjin shakes his head at the memory. “That was a shitshow,” he mutters.

“Well, take a look at the expenses this department has incurred. The cost of new equipment for all three members, including desktops here in the office and work devices, to take on the go and to have at home; high-speed gigabit internet speeds, several purchases for access to databases and systems to track the company name and various projects we are working on, a stipend for food—I don’t even know why they need that—plus these charges to the company card for a massage therapist to come in-house three times a week!” You huff in indignation at the ridiculousness of the expenses as Seokjin’s phone chimes from an incoming message.

“So what are you proposing we do? Cut out massages? Or are you offering to be my personal masseuse? I have a few areas you could—”

“I will call HR so quick—”

“I’m kidding, sheesh! You’re cute when you’re flustered.”

“I’m not flustered! Anyway,” you redirect the conversation away from another spiraling train of thought as your tablet dings, “this department incurs more expenses per member than some of the entertainment sector, so I think we need to merge these workers into other departments with a significant decrease to the special treatment they have been receiving and do a sweep through ALL department expenses, mitigating all of the superfluous things, like fucking massage therapists being on-call in-house three times a week.”

“The employees are not going to like this—we've always allowed them the ability to not be micromanaged when it comes to workplace spending,” Seokjin answers, but he knows this is the best bet to meet the board’s requirements and stay on your good side. “But okay.”

“Great. I’ll draft the memo to be sent out as soon as possible so that from now on, all expenses will be reviewed by me before charges can be processed by the company.” A quiet pinging chimes as you talk. “All spending must go through a request and approval process. I’ve already drafted the forms for requesting funds, and this is a great segue into Ji-Soo and the holiday party. She can be the first to complete the new process for approval, since I’ve already completed the form and sent it to her.”

Jin huffs out a disbelieving chuckle, pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment of relief.

“Well, that explains the back-to-back emails she’s sent while we’ve been talking. She must not understand that emails are not like text messages.”

“I mean, I wouldn’t say that Ji-Soo is surpassing the CEO with her IQ score.” You click the keys on the tablet keyboard, avoiding looking at Seokjin, lest you start to laugh as another ding fills the silence from his constantly chirping phone.

“Kicks! It’s so rare to see you snip back—she must’ve done something to get under your skin.” Seokjin smirks, thinking about how he wants to be next.

“Just thinking about how if we could fire some people, that would also help with costs.”

“For now, we’ll stick to option three and your plan to assess all company fund requests. I’ll report this to Namjoon and you can work on your memo. And please, if you love me at all,” Seokjin pauses so that he can stand up and gather his device and pen, “reply to Ji-Soo before she files a complaint.”

“Yes, sir.” And you will, but not because you have any kind of feelings for your boss. 

Reader POV

Ji-Soo is not happy with the reply email you sent to her, but you don’t care. Unfortunately, it’s your job that’s on the line, though you wish it would be hers. Her many office dalliances are of no secret to you thanks to being so close to one of the C-Suite employees, but there isn’t much you can do about it.

The rest of the weekend and following week is spent writing up the memo for the CEO to approve and send out to all departments, prepping all of the review documents you will be using for requests, and meeting with the CIO, Jeon Jungkook, to discuss the rearranging of the IT Departments so that the staff members can be placed accordingly. 

Friday afternoon, a reminder email comes through about the Company Holiday party happening tomorrow. You didn’t forget about it—not with the way Ji-Soo bothers you almost daily about how hard it is to plan the event with the limited funds you provided her. You roll your eyes at her email—the slight dig at the change of venue due to the financial department’s mitigations did not go unmissed by you. 

In actuality, she has the same amount of money for decorations and food as previous years—making her use the JinHit building as the location instead of renting out an expensive ballroom or hotel conference room allowed you to approve her decorations, food, and drink budget. 

Moving the email into the relevant folder, you close down your computer for the weekend, excited to finally be done with the long week. You plan to attend the event, and as you pack up your belongings to head home, you think through the various outfits in your closet to piece together what you might want to wear. 

“Hey, Kicks!” Seokjin’s loud voice calls out to you as you wait for the elevator car to arrive on your floor. The finance department is located on the 48th floor, below the C-Suite offices, and it isn’t every day that people frequently travel this high. Most of the Property Acquisition department left earlier, also located on this floor; so the quiet atmosphere allows his voice to travel farther than usual.

“Hey, Seokjin. Have a good weekend,” you say in greeting and farewell so as to not prolong a conversation. He doesn’t take the hint and steps next to you, his heady cologne filling the elevator waiting area. His black hair is pushed back off of his forehead, showing his annoyingly handsome face, and you turn away from his brown eyes smiling at you.

“Oh, I’m sure this weekend will be more than good. Are you coming tomorrow night?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there. Need to witness with my own eyes how it turns out so Ji-Soo can’t lie.”

Seokjin laughs as the elevator sounds to alert that the carriage has arrived. The two of you board, the enclosed space unsurprisingly empty. Being alone with him is nothing you aren’t used to—but lately you’re noticing he’s frustratingly handsome, which makes it harder for you to still blame him for the finance meeting debacle.

“Sounds like something she would do,” he finishes after laughing, pressing the button to the 50th floor, causing the trajectory of the elevator to lurch upward.

“Seokjin!”

“What? You know I have two offices and I left my briefcase upstairs. Wait for me, please?” he begs as the door opens and he takes off at a slow jog down the hallway. You sigh, pressing the door open button a few times as you wait for him to return. You’re annoyed and ready to go home, and this just highlights how much he enjoys getting under your skin and earning a reaction from you. He’s back quickly, only slightly out of breath as you press the button for the ground floor.

“Thanks, Kicks. It’s creepy leaving here by myself.”

You look at him incredulously.

“It’s not creepy. Most of the lights are still on!”

“Barely! Plus now that it’s winter, the sun sets earlier. Look,” he gestures out the elevator’s tinted glass window. “It’s already setting.”

“It’s not setting, it just looks darker because the glass is tinted for shade so we don’t fry on the way up to the office.”

“If it’s hot in here, I can get off,” he offers, pointing to the button for the 37th floor that he can press to stop the motion of the elevator’s descent.

“You really think you’re hot, huh?”

“You don’t agree?” Seokjin challenges, stepping into your space. His arms cage your body in, and he tilts his head to look down at you. You fight the urge to stare at his lips, instead biting your own as you maintain eye contact. 

“Oh Seokjin, there are so many things I don’t agree with you on.” You decide to take this opportunity and fluster him for a change. You close the gap dividing you from Seokjin and begin to run your hand along the top of his head, as if in a loving manner. You hold back a laugh at the way his eyes close in contentment at the feel of your fingers sliding along his scalp, unaware of your actual goal. Your fingers curl around his locks, giving you a good grip to pull his head back and away from you.

“Ow, ow!” He hollers as he steps away from you, releasing you from the tension built within his arms.

“Sorry, sir.” Smugly, you cross your arms as he rubs at his scalp while shooting daggers at you, knowing it’s all in jest.

The two of you continue to playfully banter on the way down to the main lobby, parting ways as he heads to his reserved parking spot and you walk to the bus stop near the building that most employees utilize to get home. 

📈📈📈📈📈

Glancing at yourself in the mirror, you fix your dress, eyes leaving the thigh slit in your dress to gaze at the black Louis Vuitton FAME pumps adorning your feet. The cocktail dress is black, showing off ample shoulder and legs, while accentuating all of your best body parts. Grabbing your winter coat and clutch, you head downstairs to the waiting KakaoTaxi that will take you to the office.

The lobby of JinHit is full of people arriving, greeting each other and taking photos in front of the ice sculpture of the company logo. On the other side of the main desk from the elevators, a makeshift coat check has been erected, with a small line of your coworkers turning in their heavy coats so they can enjoy the party. After dropping off your own jacket, you make your way to the elevator, waving salutations to coworkers you see. The CEO’s secretary, NaBi, poses with the CIO, Jungkook, in front of a beautiful backdrop of a snowy forest, fake snow falling from a machine positioned above. Yoongi and Jimin stand to one side, clearly arguing back and forth about something, though both have a smile on their face. Reaching the elevator, the doors open as soon as you press the button, and you’re quickly rising to the 5th floor. 

The 5th floor is often referred to as the Study Area, because it houses several quiet areas for the employees to access. The entertainment section uses it the most, with the various celebrities signed to JinHit doing work, studying their craft, and holding meetings in the rooms. The first door, and the main location of the party is called The Library, because one side of the wall is filled with bookshelves and books, while the opposite side holds floor-to-ceiling glass windows. There is a balcony within The Library that looks down upon the main floor, and tonight, it’s filled with white covered tables with a good sized area for people to dance and mingle.

As you take in the decorations, you can’t help but admire Ji-Soo’s efforts, and when she appears from a side door directing a working staffer on the placement of silverware, you tell her so. 

“Thank you, YN…not that your goal to cut down on spending was of any help.”

“Yes, I am sure that this is not the venue you had in mind, but you’ve done a wonderful job.”

“Wow, babes, this looks great!” Jimin walks into the room, followed by Yoongi, Taehyung, and Jungkook. 

“Yes, I worked very hard for almost two weeks on planning this.” Ji-Soo curls herself into Jimin’s arms as he wraps an arm around her waist. They walk further into the room to allow the crowd to enter, and soon The Library is full of people grabbing plates for the buffet line and getting drinks from the bar set up beneath the balcony. You decide to get a drink first, avoiding the crowd lining up to get first dibs on the food emitting a delicious aroma into the room.

The bartender is skilled, shaking bottles and pouring liquor for your waiting coworkers. The Malibu Bay Breeze you ordered is paired with a couple of cherries that sway in the glass as it slides down the bar to you. Taking a sip, you enjoy the refreshing taste of the cran-pineapple and coconut rum as it takes over your tastebuds.

“What did you order? Is it good?”

You nod your head at NaBi, who recently joined you at the bar, as you take another long sip from the thin black straw. 

“It’s perfect! Not overly sweet, but the rum isn’t overpowering it either.”

“I’ll have to try that one after I finish my amaretto sour.” She gestures to the bartender who is mixing her order. 

“They taste so good, I bet the party will get a little wild soon.” 

You both look at the crowd on the dance floor, surprised that so many people are already swaying to the beat and most of the tables are full with diners. The event planner is wrapped around Jimin, body gyrations bordering on dangerously inappropriate for a work party. NaBi laughs at the display before leaving you alone to join her work husband, Jungkook, at a table near the thrusting lovebirds. 

Heading to the buffet line, you decide to eat before you order a second drink, wanting to keep some semblance of control over your gross motor functions and not end up as the gossip all over the WeVerse App.

📈📈📈📈📈

“Wow, Kicks…you look amazing.”

You try your best to turn around slowly, but the alcohol seems to come out of nowhere and you’re a little wobbly on your platform pumps. Luckily, you didn’t choose a stiletto, or you might have fallen straight into your boss.

“Hello, sir. Thank you.” You blink a few times, trying to get his handsome face to stop turning into triplets. 

“Why are you hiding up here?” He looks down at your coworkers from where you’re both standing against the clear railing of the balcony. “Are you okay? Too much to drink?”

“You know? I think the juice tricked me. It was sweet so I had a few more than I usually would…now you have twin brothers.”

Seokjin guffaws loudly, but the music is now so loud it doesn’t draw anyone’s attention.

“You look a bit flushed, do you want me to get you some water?”

“Actually, yes, can we go get water? I was afraid to go downstairs in case I tripped and fell.”

Seokjin nods, offering his arm to you so that you can balance as he walks you over to the stairs to guide you down them safely. You thank him as he leads the way to the bar, loosening his bowtie as he motions for two water bottles. You fan your face as he uses one hand to pick up the bottles placed on the bar, and taking in your current state, Seokjin places his hand on the small of your back to head towards the outdoor access entrance through the glass wall. 

The winter chill of the night air is soothing to your hot skin and you sink into the patio loveseat to rest your heels and your eyes.

“Here,” the crackling of the water bottle opening signals you to reach your hand out blindly and grasp the cool plastic.

A big gulp and deep breath help immensely, and you feel the loveseat dip as Seokjin drops down next to you. His body heat radiates comfortingly, and you catch yourself cuddling into his side. You miss the way Seokjin’s eyes sparkle at the initiation of touch. 

“So, despite cutting costs, the annual holiday party turned out pretty well, I think,” Seokjin says, raising his water to his plush lips to drink before continuing, “did you have fun?”

“We’re still here, but yes, I am having fun. Thank you for getting me outside. I feel a lot better.”

“That’s good,” he murmurs as you curl into him more, seeking his heat. He hesitates before lowering his arm around the back of the loveseat, resting it behind you as if to welcome you into his space more. “I can’t believe it’s already December.”

You sit upright, a gasp leaving your mouth as his words ring in your eyes. 

“Oh my god, it’s December.”

“I know I just said tha—”

“I missed your birthday!”

Seokjin watches your face as it cycles through all of the stages of grief before settling on a pouty acceptance. 

“It’s no big deal, I didn’t get to celebrate much with everything going on right now. We’ve had to stay late and double check the daily financial reports, and I’ve been meeting with the department heads and it’s not a big birthday anyways. Next year though, you better remember.”

You nod solemnly, tipsiness clouding your ability to see through his playful manner. “Yes, sir. I will, I promise.”

Seokjin chuckles at your seriousness, hand moving to the top of your head where he smooths down the pieces that were disturbed when you had leaned into him. You preen at the touch, chest pushing into his side as you close your eyes and enjoy the feel of his fingers against your hair. 

“You’re cute when you drink.”

You glare at him as best as you can, but it just makes him laugh harder. 

“So, what do you want for your birthday? Or for Christmas since I missed this year?”

Seokjin’s face turns thoughtful, eyebrows furrowing together as his eyes look to the night sky in thought. 

“I think…I just want my father to recognize how much I actually care about the company. I’m trying to be the best CFO I can be, but man, if by Christmas he can relax from hounding me over the finances, that would be fucking great. If not, by next year we better be as far from the red as possible.”

His words strike a chord with you. The past week that you’ve been working hard at the mitigation plans and finance approvals, you didn’t even take into account how busy Seokjin was—to the point he didn’t even make a fuss about his birthday. He’d actually been really helpful, providing you with information to make your job easier.  

“We will be, Jin,” you promise, “you’re doing a great job helping me with mitigating things. Speaking of—I wish we could mitigate her.” You stare pointedly through the window back into the building, where a very drunk Park Jimin has his white shirt unbuttoned seductively low as an equally drunk Ji-Soo is taking pictures of him with her phone. 

“Ji-Soo? She’s harmless.”

“No one who has slept with a C-Suite executive is ever harmless to a company. Workplace romances rarely work out. She isn’t harmless; she’s a risk, and untouchable right now.”

A strong gust causes Seokjin to shiver, unconsciously pulling you closer to his body and you seek his warmth. Closing your eyes, you cuddle into his broad chest as you listen to him continue with the conversation.  

“She’s just the front desk secretary, Kicks.”

“Exactly. A lower level employee who has slept with both Kim Namjoon, the CEO, and Park Jimin, a board member’s son—who knows who else is on the list. She can choose to sell her stories to the highest bidder, at any time, for any reason. But she does her job, so we have no reason to fire her that wouldn’t be contestable in a court.”

“Ohhhh,” Seokjin’s eyebrows raise cutely, “the risk is that she could cause us to spend money in court, be tied up in litigation, or spend money on a settlement.”

“I knew you were the CFO for a reason,” you smile up at him from where he has you comfortably tucked, and he looks so handsome from this view.

“Ah, Kicks, you need to have a little fun in your life. No risk, no reward.” He winks at you, and under the city lights, he looks dazzling. “I would also like to point out something you may or may not be privy to…but I happen to know there are currently four successful workplace romances happening at this moment. They’re cute,” he sighs wistfully, “I wish I had a cute work boo.”  

“Yes, I am privy to this knowledge, seeing as I work with you, gossip queen,” you tease, “but also, relationships can look one way to outsiders, but in reality, there could be all sorts of issues, abuse, infidelity, petty arguments…”

“Yeah, those are my friends outside of work—accusing them of abuse and cheating is a bit of a reach to try and prove your singular example right.” He looks at you thoughtfully. “I bet if we were dating, we would easily be successful. Not everything is a risk.”

“If we were dating, we wouldn’t be stupid like them,” you nod back to where the two lovebirds are canoodling in the shadowed corner of the room, “but still risky nonetheless.”

“How about this…I’ll take you out on a few dates, and we can see if anyone we work with catches wind of our fake relationship. I think we could keep it under wraps for two weeks.”

“What’s in it for me?”

“How about those pretty Jimmy Choo heels you were eyeing? Prove me wrong and they’re yours.”

You feel your eyes grow wide, imagining those coveted heels on your feet as you walk into work once the new year rolls in.

“I’m feeling like I may regret this in the morning, but what the hell, I want those shoes…It’s a deal.”

📈📈📈📈📈

The following Sunday evening finds you lounging around at home, cleaning and doing laundry as you sip a glass of red wine and come up with your list of rules for your challenge with Seokjin. In the light of day and with sober minds, you texted each other, realizing that you need some way to measure the challenge. Also, he needed to make sure that you weren’t set on sabotaging the relationship from jump, just to get the shoes. 

Jin (8:47 PM): I’ve thought about it, and here are my rules. Okay? We’re dating, so act like we’re dating but be discreet and don’t tell anyone and win on purpose. You (8:47 PM): That’s…so professional of you. Jin (8:48 PM): There you go again… You (8:49 PM): Shut up. You (8:50 PM): Anyways, here’s what I came up with: [Link to spreadsheet]  No telling anyone that we’re dating during these 2 weeks ~Saturday Dec 9 - Saturday Dec 23 Must go on 6 dates, 3 each week, with at least one date each week right after work, where you drive us  Have to attend two meetings together with other coworkers and successfully get away with the following: Disappear at the same time from desk/office during peak work hours for 30 minutes, twice during week 2 without anyone growing suspicious of the two of us missing Jin (9:02 PM): I appreciate your attention to detail, but also, you kind of take the fun out of the dating part. You (9:04 PM): You want to make sure I don’t cheat, and I want to make sure you don’t either. So, in order to test this accurately, we need to be able to measure it. By having set actions and goals we have to get away with, I think this is the best way to determine who wins in the end. Jin (9:05 PM): We could just act like a couple and wing it, but I guess knowing what to do with you is easier. You like being touched…noted. You (9:06 PM): Don’t make it awkward. Jin (9:06 PM): You didn’t mention kissing at work? Are we doing that? I think it would be fun. Jin (9:08 PM): Or does that come with the sneaking away? Should I pick up some listerine for the office? Any preference on condom brands or flavors? You: {Left on Read}

📈📈📈📈📈

Sitting at your desk, your eyes drag to the bottom corner of the computer screen to the email alert. Clicking it open, you see a message from Seokjin with weekly reports he’s run for your review. As you begin to open the spreadsheets he’s sent, you notice he’s changed his signoff at the end of the email.

Your Handsome Lover, Jin-Oppa

You hold back a gag, unable to believe the audacity he has, before it turns into a giggle. He really has no shame, you think, deciding two can play this game. Hitting reply, you send him a thank you, making sure to sign off in like.

Leaning back in your chair, you stretch before diving into the work he sent. 

Time seems to fly by, with the sun filtering into your office slowly moving across the carpet. You don’t notice, so engrossed in your work as you are, that Seokjin is leaning in your doorway, eyes watching you with a soft smile. 

“Ready to go, baby girl?”

Seokjin’s voice startles you, breaking your concentration. Your boss has changed out of his business suit slacks, a crisp pair of blue jeans tailored to fit his body now gracing his frame as his button down disappears into the waistband. The sleeves are rolled up halfway, revealing his expensive watch and veins as he flexes involuntarily. 

“Seokjin!” you gasp out, clutching a hand to your chest above your now racing heart.

“Now, is that any way to address your boyfriend who is about to take you out on a date?”

You raise your eyebrows at him. 

“Fake boyfriend, you mean,” you correct, gathering your purse onto your shoulder as you lock your computer before looking down to arrange the printed reports neatly.

“Real enough for the next two weeks, baby girl,” he counters, voice significantly closer. 

You feel the warmth of his body pressing into your backside as he envelops you in a hug, his face nuzzling into your neck as if seeking comfort. Freezing, your body betrays you as a burst of butterflies flit around your tummy and your neck cranes as if to accommodate his face, waiting for him to plant a kiss on your sweet spot. 

Instead he steps back, and it takes you a few seconds to regain your composure.

“I’m gonna regret signing my email as that, aren’t I?” you question, following him out of your office.

“Hmm, it's possible, but more likely, you’ll prefer it to Kicks and ask me not to stop calling you that.”

“Doubt it,” you mumble, though your conscious thought is looking at you skeptically. It’s been one day, and your body is already taking this fake relationship as reality.

“We’ll see,” is his only response, though after the two of you step into the elevator, he reaches for your hand.

“You’re quite the touchy-feely boyfriend, Jinnie-Oppa,” you tease.

“Because I know it’s what you like. I know you’ve identified set things you’d like to do to test the relationship, but I’m more of a go with the flow guy, y’know? And I have a reputation to protect. Fake or not, I’ll be the best boyfriend you’ve ever had.”

Again, the traitorous butterflies appear, and they remain long after he’s dropped your hand to walk across the lobby to the parking garage entrance, looking mischievously around the lot as he opens the passenger side door to let you into his car. 

Date number one surprises you, as you’re expecting Seokjin to resort to either typical chaebol actions, like a fancy reservation at an upscale restaurant, or be lazy with his choice, and take you to something owned by his family. Seokjin did neither, instead he surprises you with a fun outing. He swings by your place, telling you to change into something casual and you’re glad you did. Zzang Games, located in Hongdae, is a multi-floor entertainment center, perfect for competing or pairing up for various arcade and VR games. 

For a Monday evening it's not too busy, mostly tourists and students on the claw machines and engaged in battle royales, and you think it’s pretty smart of Seokjin to choose this. Your coworkers most likely would not be out at a place like this on a weekday, so you’re less likely to get caught, and as a date, it’s definitely the type of relaxed setting that would allow two people to learn more about each other. If that was something the two of you were interested in, which it’s not. Right? 

Later that night in bed, you fall asleep thinking about how much fun you had with Seokjin and that maybe he’s right about workplace romances, but if he is, then you can kiss those Jimmy Choo shoes goodbye...

Seokjin wasn’t lying to you when he said he would be the best boyfriend you’ve ever experienced in the two weeks assigned to dating, and it’s only been three days. Yesterday, you received a delivery of flowers discreetly signed from Your Lover. Several of the women that share your floor asked about the blooming perennials, curious to know who they came from. You just said it was a new thing, much like the vase full of buds that was blossoming; not yet a relationship, but still something nonetheless. 

Today, just before you head to the Tuesday weekly meeting, Seokjin comes into your office to deliver you a cold French vanilla latte with whipped cream and a caramel drizzle across the fluffy topping. 

“Well isn’t this sweet,” you say with a thank you, instantly mouthing at the whipped cream. You watch as Seokjin’s eyes follow your lips as you try and get the excess cream off the sides of your mouth. Turning away from you, he moves to leave. You follow, ready for the meeting, when Seokjin stops abruptly, turning on his heel in the doorway. 

“What—”

His plush lips land on yours, a hand moving to the back of your hair to hold you in place as he gently bites your bottom lip before pulling away from the unexpected kiss.

“You missed a spot, Kicks, didn’t want anyone else coming to your rescue in the meeting.”

He steps away, resuming his path to the conference room as you blink feverishly at his departing silhouette. It takes you a few seconds to gather your wits and hustle after him, heels click-clacking on the tile as you hurry to catch up.

📈📈📈📈📈

Meetings lately suck. 

Ever since you, or, the finance department, has been put on the hot seat, it feels like everyone is looking to you to fix things that aren’t your area of concern. It doesn’t help that you and Seokjin have made this stupid bet to see who is right about workplace romances. All so you can have those coveted Jimmy Choos. 

“Thank you Taehyung, I’m sure the board will be able to vote on your proposal after reviewing the presentation.” The CEO’s voice snaps you back from where you’re daydreaming, face still warm and mouth tingling from your fake lover’s amorous encounter earlier. Absent-mindedly you run a finger across your bottom lip, not really listening to a word any of your coworkers have to say. 

“Next up will be an update on the finances—we’ll take a quick five minute break before we resume.”

You jump when you feel a hand on your thigh, a soft pressure as Seokjin turns your chair gently towards himself.

“Hey, are you okay? Do you want me to present this time,” he says lowly into your ear. You feel the breath of his words caress your neck, a shiver rolling down your spine at how close he is. His hand then moves to your back, and to anyone in the room watching, it would look like two work partners preparing for their presentation. 

“Hmm? Oh, yeah, why wouldn’t I be okay?”

“Maybe because you look a little…flustered. Don’t worry baby girl, this presentation’s on me.” Seokjin grasps your hand under the conference room table, and you don’t really hear anything else he says as he brings his other hand to the tablet in front of you, clicking a few things so he can connect to the projector now that Taehyung has packed away his materials. “That was much longer than five seconds, I think I’m killing it.”

“Huh?” you question, confused.

He releases your fingers from where they were intertwined with his own, raising his hand to wiggle his five left fingers in your face with a smug look. 

“Just sit here and look pretty, darling,” he jokes, but his eyes look serious when he swoops his hand over your ear, tucking away a wayward strand before standing to present, “and can you click through the slides for me?” he says this part louder, drawing everyone’s attention to you. 

You can only nod, bashful and confused, and curse Kim Seokjin for being so goddamn charming, and so damn good at this game. 

📈📈📈📈📈

Seokjin’s POV

Date number two the following day is your idea—a nice tandem bike ride along the Han River before sunset. The temperature is chilly, but you make sure to warn Seokjin in advance so he meets you wearing a warm fluffy white jacket, a matching beanie, and gloves. He’s thankful you let him know to dress warmly.

Seoul winters have 5 AM sunrises and near 8 PM sunsets, so the view along the river is gorgeous, a clear Wednesday with barely a cloud in the sky. Seokjin can’t believe he actually works up a sweat during the leisurely ride, but with the sun still out and no clouds to offer any shade, when the two of you finish your trip, he strips off his jacket for a breather. 

He notices the way you eye his arms as they flex to grab his wallet from his back pocket so he can pay for your hot cocoa. It makes him feel good about himself, and his chances with you once this competition is over. What better way to make you fall for him and realize dating him is feasible, than by a trial run—as he likes to call it. 

Seokjin is aware that you play by the rules, not just in work, where it’s expected, but in your day to day too, in relationships with coworkers and how you move through life. The only time he’s witnessed you behave in a way that goes against this is when you splurge to buy heels online. He feels like it was pure luck that he was able to finesse his trial run relationship with you, but he knows it is the data that you need to prove it’s worth the risk—he’s worth the risk. 

When you shiver from the breeze coming off of the river, he wastes no time layering his fluffy jacket over your thin, long-sleeve athletic shirt, loving the way the jacket dwarfs you despite your heeled boots—yes, even when riding bikes, you make sure to have that slight lift that makes your ass sit ever so nicely in your jeans. 

He enjoys the way you snuggle yourself deeper into his jacket, subtly inhaling the scent of his cologne and it’s just another confirmation to himself that maybe you could really turn this into something real with him, that maybe you like him back. He played it safe with the first date, and your choice for today is cute, but he doesn’t have much time to prove to you that he’s serious. He knows that the next date is the time for him to turn up the heat.

📈📈📈📈📈

Reader POV

The atmosphere in the restaurant for date three is so far removed from the arcade of date one, you don’t really know how to behave. You use the term restaurant loosely, seeing as you are currently floating along the Han River. A candlelight dinner on a ferry at sunset was not what you expected from Seokjin. Looking around the room, you can’t help but notice how many of the tables are empty in comparison to what your friends have told you about this experience, but you’re sure Seokjin pulled some strings. There’s maybe seven other couples in the room. He confirms as much as he pulls your attention back to him. 

“I bought out as many of the tables as I could to ensure your utmost devotion during our date, and still you can’t keep your eyes on me,” he jokes, bringing his wine glass to his lips, “but some people had already purchased tables and I couldn’t get them to refund it.” Your eyes follow the burgundy liquid as it slips between his lips, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows it down. You tug at the form-fitting maroon dress you have on, one that Seokjin presented to you before leaving work to make the reservation.

“I was just wondering why it was so empty, but now that I know, I promise to focus on you.” You hate how much you don���t hate how the words sound; Seokjin is a sight to behold as the sun begins its descent below the horizon, and you find that you don’t want to look away from him. It’s a bit confusing for you because there’s a small part of your brain that doesn’t want to like this. He’s your boss, for one, and two, your competitive side is thinking about the fact that you want those shoes. Plus, you also like to be right. Though if you’re being honest with yourself—

“All women do is lie,” Seokjin says, paired with a firm settling down of the glass goblet onto the tablecloth. “Promising to focus on me, and then daydreaming seconds after—unless you were daydreaming about me?”

“Yes, daydreaming about strangling you for being so insufferable.”

“Didn’t know you were also into asphyxiation, but I will add that to the list alongside ‘likes to be touched’.”

You want to wipe the smirk off of his face. You take a deep breath, reminding yourself that this is Kim Seokjin, and no matter how he seems to fool you for a moment, give it a few minutes and he will say something to reign it back in. 

“So, I know we’re going to run this relationship for two weeks, and I thought about the perfect way to figure out if we pass or fail.”

You nod as you take a bite of the filet mignon on the plate before you. “Oh, do tell,” you implore, chewing delicately so as to not appear impolite. 

“Be my date to Namjoon’s Christmas party.” Seokjin’s nonchalant tone throws you for a loop and you miss the connection between the two things.

“Be your—excuse me,” you cough, clearing your throat from when you inhaled unceremoniously. “You want me to be your date to the CEO’s Christmas party?”

“Yeah, it makes perfect sense. When we arrive, everyone will either act surprised seeing us as a couple, or think that I invited you as my friendly, plus-one coworker. Either way, we can use that as the true test to see if we passed or failed.” Seokjin grins proudly, waiting for you to applaud his brilliance.  

“Hmm, it does seem like a good idea.” You look back at your food, hiding the fact that you were confused earlier. “I’m assuming the people invited will be people who attend meetings with us or work with us regularly?”

“Obviously, I wouldn’t suggest it otherwise.”

“Fine, I guess I’ll be your date.”

“Great. I’ll forward you the e-vite later tonight so you can prepare yourself for it, I know how you are.”

You smile softly at him; despite his teasing tone, you know that the act of sending you the details is one that shows he knows you and cares to some degree about your comfortability. He’s seen you freak out a few times over lack of information before meetings or events that you’ve had to attend for the company. You wonder what other things he’s filed away about you to make sure that you’re taken care of, so to speak. Maybe this is also who Kim Seokjin is. His duality is throwing you for a loop.

Before you can think of a way to safely broach that topic, the live band playing shifts to a song you recognize, but without lyrics, you can’t name it just yet. 

“I love this song!” Seokjin surprises you when he comments, proffering a hand to you. “Do you want to dance?”

In the fading sunlight, his eyes sparkle with a joyful playfulness that you can’t say no to. Taking his hand, you allow him to pull you towards an opening, thanks to the lack of patrons on board, and gathering you into his arms, the two of you sway to the beat. 

You are acutely aware that his hands are placed right at the small of your back, pinkies bordering the curve of your ass as you hold onto his broad shoulders. 

“Relax a little, can you look like you actually enjoy dancing with me?”

“Sorry, I—” 

“Shhh, just dance with me—you look beautiful by the way.” He smiles down at you, and you comply, wrapping your hands to rest casually around his neck to loosen your stiff posture as you try to hide the heat rising to your face.

As the music plays, you hear Seokjin humming gently along to it before he begins to sing lightly. “Say my name and everything just stops, I don’t want you like a best friend…Only bought this dress so you can take it off, take it off, ah ah ah~.”

Hearing the lyrics jogs your memory of the song, and you remember how much of a fan Seokjin is of Taylor Swift. Until the words catch up to your brain and you look up at him scandalized.

“Only bought me this dress so you can take it off?” you ask, trying to step away from him, but his hold on you is firm. 

“Kicks, everything that I buy you from here on out, I would love to remove from your body, except for the heels.” He doesn’t look at you, playfully swirling you around in a circle with a smile, but there’s a sincerity in his tone that you can’t shake. You bite your lip, unable to stop the racing thoughts as he takes one of your hands from where you’ve moved them to his chest, spinning you in a circle on the dance floor as the band continues to play. 

He pulls you close again, this time with your back to his front and keeps hold of your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. 

“Are you having fun yet?” he asks, lips brushing the shell of your ear. 

“I’m dancing with you, aren’t I?” you deflect, and he chuckles knowingly.

Seokjin resumes his gentle singing, swaying with you as other guests begin to dance and waiters clear the finished entrees so they could prepare for dessert. As the song finally ends, you walk back to your seat, sitting gingerly to combat the pooling between your thighs from the friction dancing must have caused. Rubbing up against someone is just a part of dancing. What else could explain the slight bulge you felt nestled between your cheeks as you swayed in Seokjin’s arms? 

The small crystal bowls of strawberry gelato are a nice distraction to cool down the heat you feel around your throat and cheeks, but watching the way that Seokjin’s lips wrap around the metal spoon to gently suck at the ice cream, smoothing down the scoop of pink dessert sitting on it, well, it doesn’t help as much as one would hope. 

When you’ve both finished and the boat begins to dock back into the wharf, Seokjin comes to your side, offering you a hand to help you stand. You grasp it, but as you stand, the ferry lurches on the water, and you stumble into his chest. The motion causes him to fall backwards taking you with him as he attempts to protect you on the fall. 

As the boat settles, you look up, seeing that you’ve landed side-saddle style on Seokjin’s lap, his legs bent to the side opposite of where yours are. Your hands clutch onto his shoulders still, your faces much closer than you’ve ever found them to be. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, arms tightening from where they’re wrapped around your waist.

“Mmhmm,” you nod, the act bringing your lips closer to his with every upward movement.

“You sure, Kicks?” he breathes out even quieter, face inching ever so closer. 

“Never better,” you answer, a rush of air caressing his lips, so close you feel the blowback of it, and an urge like never before comes over you to just lean in and taste the strawberry off his lips.

And just as his lips begin to touch yours, a flurry of activity from the ship's stewards pulls you apart as they check on your wellbeing. They help you climb off of Seokjin’s lap, apologizing profusely for the boat’s severe rocking and offering coupons on drinks and food and a free trip to save from receiving a bad review. You let Seokjin negotiate with the workers, focusing solely on your breathing. You do this as you leave, as Seokjin drives you home, and as you stand in the steaming shower attempting to scrub yourself of his touch, of the feelings they elicit from you, and what it might mean.

But there’s nothing that you can do to stop the images that infiltrate your thoughts as you dream of a satin dress falling to the floor, strawberry lips that cover every inch of your skin, and your high-heel-clad feet resting on his shoulders.     

Work the next day is weird to say the least, as you expected to be bombarded with Seokjin smirking and strutting around the office, but when you arrive, he’s nowhere to be seen. In order to keep your mind free of all of the newly budding feelings, you throw yourself into your work, following up on the financial reports for the week so far to track the flow of money within the company and see if the different measures you’ve put into place have made a difference in the end-of-fiscal-year outcome and if the company is in the black once more. 

The day seems to go by fast, with Seokjin never appearing in the finance department at all, and no encounters with him when you left to grab food with NaBi, Khaity, Khaity’s best friend Leah, and Hana. You expected to see him round the corner and enter your office at least once you were back from lunch, but he doesn’t appear, and instead of feeling relief at avoiding what you feel will be an awkward encounter, you feel nervous and worried about where he’s at. 

After spinning aimlessly in your desk chair, having read the same line in the report seven times, you reach for your phone, finger hovering over his name. Would an email be more appropriate? It was working hours and you’ve never really called him outside of work like this before. You decide to call anyway, brain already coming up with a way to write it off as part of the challenge much like he did the whip cream kiss, when he answers. 

“Hello?” he answers, a little breathless, and you pause, confused at the sounds you hear in the background. “Kicks?” 

You’re about to answer when you hear a feminine voice from the background, asking who Kicks is.

“Give me a moment,” you hear him say, followed by the background sounds fading a bit as he steps away from wherever he’s located. He says your name, but you’re still stuck on what you’ve heard. “Baby girl?” he tries, and it works, breaking you from your green-eyed stupor.

“I’m here,” you respond, voice lowered as you try and navigate the feeling in your chest. 

“Is something wrong? You’re worrying me.”

“No, nothing’s wrong, I just haven’t seen you at work today—”

“Oh, I had a dentist appointment this morning, but Namjoon sent me to meet with some fiduciary specialists and can you believe they don’t have elevators in their building? I had to walk four flights of stairs and I was so worried something was wrong and I was going to have to run back down those four flights to get to you—”

Your peals of laughter halt his rambling, and he stays quiet as you taper off into light giggles. 

“No, everything is fine, sorry to interrupt your meeting.”

“No, I forgot to put it into the calendar so you would know, I’m sorry if I worried you. This woman who looks old enough to be my grandma is glaring at me though, so let me finish this meeting and then I’ll fill you in on what I learned tomorrow.”

“Okay, see you tomorrow.”

“Yes, ma’am, I’m coming now—okay, babe, be good, bye!”

The phone clicks off and you set it down, utterly confused at the ease with which he called you a pet name; it wasn’t done teasingly, but more like a slip, as if he always referred to you as such and was comfortable with doing so. But even more pressing is the way you feel, no longer anxious at Seojin’s unknown whereabouts, no longer jealous of him being around another woman sounding suspiciously out of breath, and tummy all aflutter at him calling you babe.

📈📈📈📈📈

“Friday, fighting!” NaBi calls out as you both head towards the entrance; her weekly Friday morning greeting makes you wave at her. 

“I hope you have a great day, NaBi!” you say as you both make your way towards the elevator. You expect to see NaBi press the button to Namjoon’s floor, since she is essentially his personal assistant and secretary, but instead she chooses to go to a different floor, IT. 

“Same to you, I’m sure it will be a great Friday. Any more horrid meetings?” she asks, privy to the situation thanks to her role within the company.

“No, thank god. We’re back to our weekly Tuesday meetings, and luckily, since they know Jin and I are working on the finances, they’ve left me alone for most of them.”

“That’s good, I hope Jin isn’t working you to the bone,” NaBi quips, and you have to stop yourself from sharing your latest thoughts and feelings. 

“No, no, everything is good there, he’s actually been really attentive and helpful with trying to fix all of the wanton spending, so hopefully there’s no more vile meetings with the crusty old board members.”

As the doors slide open to the IT department, NaBi steps out, a large smile on her face as she looks towards a specific open door.

“When are you going to tell him how you feel?” you ask pointedly, nodding towards a certain muscle bunny’s office before the elevator has a chance to close. 

“When you wear sneakers to work!” she laughs out, waving you off.

“Never!”

📈📈📈📈📈

The weekend seems to go by quickly because you’re still working remotely on financial reports in your pajamas, so despite the turmoil you feel about everything, it gets set to the back burner. You remember late on Sunday that it’s once again your turn to plan the date for the following day, and so while you may not wear sneakers ever to the office or even tandem bike riding in winter, you will rock the heck out of the blue, red and tan bowling shoes when your competitive side strikes. And after such a romantic, sexually charged date, you want to try and put some space between you and Seokjin once again. 

Your pep talk to yourself on the way to work Monday morning consists of you reminding yourself that this isn’t real. 

“Seokjin’s unserious, you know he’s not capable of real emotions.” Your face looks back at you from the reflection in the window on the bus. “The date meant nothing. He’s just playing with you because he can. He wants you to let your guard down and forget the true game is afoot.” The man behind you on the bus looks at you as if you’ve lost your mind talking to yourself and you pretend you’re talking to someone on the phone. “You are in this to prove to Seokjin that dating at work is risky because people always find out, and thus win a pair of heels. Nothing more.” 

But if what you told yourself this morning is the case, why do you want to sit and watch Seokjin run his fingers through his hair as he combs it out of his face? Why do you want to stare into his coffee-colored eyes as he talks to you about different techniques for bowling? You could care less about bowling skills, but watching the words come from between his pink pillow lips makes it mesmerizing. 

“Do you want bumpers?” he asks as he finishes lacing his shoes.

You shoot him a glare before answering, “No, I do not need bumpers, I’m decent at bowling, thank you very much.”

You aren’t lying either, you have pretty good hand eye coordination, but it has been several years since you’ve last gone bowling. You can typically score in the range of seventies to the hundreds, not a gutterball queen like he assumes. You hope to dazzle him with your abilities. 

“Okay, I think I’m going to use the 12-pound ball, what size do you need? A 7 or 8-pound?”  

“An 8-pound please! I sometimes use a 7 or a 9-pound when I need speed or to slow down for precision, but I’ll start with the 8 for now.” You stand and stretch, missing Seokjin’s eyes rove your figure.

“Got it boss, I’ll deliver you an 8-pounder.” Jin chuckles to himself as he grabs the two large spheres from the rack.

“Why does it sound like you’re planning to give me a newborn?”

“My mother and father would be happy to have a grandchild, now that I think about it,” Seokjin winks as he places the bowling balls into the ball return. 

“Kim Seokjin, sometimes I really just want to bang yo—”

“Me against the wall outside in the alleyway? I won’t lie, that would be a good way to get my parents started on a grandchild.”

“Ugh! Please just bowl, it’s your turn.” You sit down and cross your arms, irritated with his quips. He’s the most unserious person you have ever met, and yet he still manages to push the boundaries of unserious levels daily. 

Despite this, you are enjoying yourself as date four progresses, with game one ending with you beating Seokjin, and game two causing a tie to declare who is the best at bowling. Game three starts off the same, but halfway through, now pleasantly pliant with several soju shots, you both are giggling a lot more, being playful with trick shots. 

“Okay, okay, that was surprisingly accurate,” you laugh as Seokjin rights himself from where he had bent over to throw the bowling ball between his legs. You step up with your bowling ball, poised to be dramatic like you’ve seen people do on TV.

“Always the look of surprise from you, I am actually quite talented at many things, especially when it comes to using my hands.” His eyebrows wiggle suggestively, but with his face flushed red from being upside down and from alcohol, it is more comical than sexy. 

The burst of laughter that follows throws you off balance. One second, you are gearing up to do a ‘professional’ throw, left hand bracing the ball you have held in your right, three fingers balancing the weight, but when your hand swings back, he says his lewd saying and instead of releasing the ball when your arm pendulums forward, you keep hold of it. The weight of the ball still attached to your fingers propels you forward and you lose your footing on the overly slick flooring of the lane. 

“Oh fuck!” You can’t help the curse escaping your mouth as you try your best to maintain your footing, but your ankle rolls as your body topples onto the resin-coated wood floor. You cry out from the twinge it causes, a shooting pain traveling along the side of your leg.

Seokjin laughs, loud squeaks that resemble windshield wipers that have seen better days, and while you are nearly in tears from the stinging ache, you start to laugh too as you hold your ankle slightly above the ground.

“Jin, stop laughing, it hurts!” you giggle through the tears, and the bouncing from the laughter jostles your ankle and you let out a whimper. He’s next to you instantly, still chuckling as he tries to soothe you. 

“I’m sorry, but that was the funniest thing I’ve seen all week,” he wipes away a tear and then touches your leg gingerly. “Does it hurt here?”

You nod. “Yes, it’s similar to shin splints, but on the side.”

“Can you stand?” Seokjin offers his hands to you and you pull yourself up onto one leg, too afraid to put any weight on the hurt ankle. Your bowling ball lay forgotten as you hobble to the nearest seat. “I meant like can you put weight on it, but it appears you can’t…We only had three frames left anyways, let’s call it a night for bowling.” He looks at you with sympathy. “Let me take you to the hospital.”

“No, I promise, it’ll be fine, just some ice and I’ll prop it up on a few pillows.”

Seokjin puts away the bowling balls and cleans up a little while you slowly loosen the laces. You transition one boot back on, and he comes back over to you in time to help gently remove the other bowling shoe off your foot. 

“Let me return our shoes and then I’ll help you to the car.”

You stretch as far as you can reach to gather your purse and test the mobility of your ankle, hoping to avoid being carried bridal style out. It still hurts and looks a little swollen, but you’ve done this a few times as an adolescent so you already know how to treat it. Seokjin squats down in front of you, giving you his back so that you can climb on and he can koala-carry you out of the building. 

Hesitantly you wrap your arms around his neck, realizing that this position is much worse than if he had chosen the bridal style. Now you know exactly how well he fits between your thighs, how firmly his hands wrap under your thighs. There’s no way to distance yourself from him as you physically have to rely on him to transport you to the car, your breasts pressing into his back.

Surprisingly, Seokjin doesn’t make any jokes as he carts you out, just asks after your pain and comfort levels. Once he’s parked outside of your building, he helps you to your door. You draw the line there though, not letting him come in.

“We have work tomorrow, I’m just going to take some painkillers, take a quick shower, grab some ice and pillows, then sleep. Promise, I won’t do anything strenuous.” 

“Fine. On one condition though. I’m picking you up to take you to work the rest of the week until it heals.” Seokjin looks at you with eyes that showcase his finality, and you agree so you can escape him. 

“I’ll meet you downstairs at 7:30 sharp,” you acquiesce, “and Seokjin…thank you.”

“Anything for you, I told you, as your boyfriend these two weeks, I’ll be the best boyfriend—as long as you let me.” 

Before you can protest, he leans down and kisses your forehead gently, and he disappears from sight before you’ve moved to shut the door. 

Seokjin’s POV

Watching as you walk gingerly into the Tuesday morning meeting, Seokjin shakes his head at you remembering your refusal this morning to change into flats or sneakers, so Seokjin only agrees to allow you to continue to work if you sport an ankle wrap under your heeled boot. He stops at Daiso before parking, but because of the time, he lets you out with a promise to put it on once you get to your office. 

“Why are you limping so badly? The bandage should be giving you more support than that, is it on correctly?” Seokjin asks as you walk to your seat next to him. He stands to pull out the wheely chair for you, one hand on your back to guide you into the seat and the other holding your hand as you lower yourself to get comfortable. 

“I haven’t put it on yet,” you reply, avoiding eye contact. He returns to his chair sending you a searing stare full of judgment.

“Kicks, the longer it takes your ankle to heal, the longer I can’t enjoy seeing you in heels. You know I love how you look in heels.” His hand grazes along the top of your thigh, but you clamp a hand on top of his to stop the movement. 

“I knew you had an ulterior motive!” 

He chuckles, but it fades away as you seem to take advantage of the situation and thread your fingers through his. He fully expects that after ten seconds you’ll pull away and go back to taking notes on what the CEO says as he talks to the group. Except that you don’t, instead settling into the meeting, holding hands with Seokjin for far longer than necessary, not that he’s complaining. 

Once the meeting adjourns, you disappear back to your office faster than Seokjin thought possible with an injured ankle, but he takes advantage of the time to shoot an email to Namjoon and Yoongi before going to gather some items. It’s not long before he appears in your doorway. 

“Come with me, and bring your wrap,” he demands, though his tone is not harsh. He can’t be mad at you, not when you’ve provided him with the perfect opportunity.

With a sigh, you hobble over to the door and follow as he leads you around a few corners until you’re alone in one of the many break rooms in the building. This one in particular is similar to the library where the holiday party was held, but smaller, with a conference table in the middle of the sun-filled room.

Seokjin leads you to the table, and preemptively picks you up by your underarms to place you on the table before you can resist. He makes sure to be gentle as he lifts your leg to the table, undoing your boot so he can check your ankle out. You’re wearing loose slacks today, which makes it easier for him to access your sprain. Delicately, he smoothes the pant leg up your leg, his hand warming as it skates across your skin. 

He swears he hears an intake of breath from the touch, a reflection of the sparks he’s feeling, but instead of calling attention to it, afraid of scaring you off, he reaches behind you, retrieving the bag of ice wrapped in paper towels. Settling onto the tabletop, he puts your foot in his lap.

“This might be a little cool, but we need to treat the swelling.”

The moment feels oddly intimate, and it’s Seokjin’s turn now to duck his head and avoid eye contact. He adjusts the ice pack onto your ankle, one hand cupping your heel as the other keeps the pack in place on top of your foot. Your foot struggles a little at the frosty feeling, and Seokjin has to maintain his breathing as you unknowingly wiggle atop his crotch. 

“Sorry,” you mumble, settling your hands behind you on the table as you get comfortable. 

“It’s expected,” he returns, and the smile you give him only adds to the hope blossoming in his chest. 

The next twenty minutes are spent talking about everything and nothing, and the last ten he spends tickling the bottom of your foot as he helps slide the bandage onto your ankle, all so he can hear your laugh and have your hands on him as you try to get him to leave your foot alone. 

“I don’t want to kick you in the face, but if you touch the bottom of my foot again, I can’t say I—Jin!” you squeal, wriggling backwards in an attempt to escape, but he just follows you, his body covering yours as you lean back breathlessly on the table. 

“Yes?” His smile is teasing as his arm extends to protect the back of your head as he presses closer to you.

“Please, I can’t take it! I’m too ticklish!”

“But that’s exactly why I can’t stop, Kicks. You’re too cute when you’re flustered, under me like this.”

He sees the exact moment that you notice the precarious position he’s put you in, with Seokjin leaning between your knees, chest to chest as he cradles your head. He didn’t know that he would love the feel of your body under him this much, almost as much as when you were on his lap on the boat. He can smell one of the fragrances you carry, whether it be your shampoo, a perfume, or just a natural scent, he already knows if he can’t make this thing with you real, he’s going to miss it.   

“Jin,” he watches you bring your hands to his chest, expecting you to push him away, but to his surprise—and probably your own he suspects—you don’t. He stares at you, drinking in all of the things he’s grown to love about your features over time: the way your eyebrows furrow in thought, lips slightly parted as breaths escape them, and gorgeous eyes wide in wonder as you look back at him. 

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?”

This close up, he watches as your face changes slightly, lips closing to a shy smile, cheek more prominent and your eyes glittering at the compliment. If you plan to ask him later about the kiss, he’ll tell you it was him if it keeps you from getting scared off, but he sees you move first, clear as day in the reflecting sun. You lift your head out of his hand where it’s cradled, pressing your lips to his and he lets out a tiny groan to rival the throaty moan you release as his tongue seeks entry into your mouth. 

He’s both happy and sad at the position he has you in, because while it allows him to be here like this, kissing you, it also doesn’t allow for much more and is becoming quite uncomfortable as he attempts to keep his weight from crushing you. His tongue plays with yours for a few more moments before he tapers off, slowing the progression of the kiss to playful pecks. 

Once Seokjin is satisfied that you are giggly and pliant, he clambers off of you, reaching both hands out to help pull you back into a seated position on the table.

“So,” he starts, wanting to test and see how he’s doing in terms of winning you over, “am I the best short-term boyfriend you’ve ever had?” He doesn’t notice the way your eyes dim slightly hearing the phrase ‘short-term’, as he’s busying himself with adjusting the ankle bandage before helping you put back on your boot.

Jin is excited to hear you softly reply, “Yes, Jin, you are.”

If he’s a little more aware, maybe he’d be able to pick up on more than just your words, and realize a lot more about how you’re feeling concerning the situation you both are in.   

📈📈📈📈📈

Reader POV

It’s killing you to not be able to talk to your work friends about what’s going on. Seeing as you missed out on lunch yesterday due to your shenanigans with Seokjin, the girls ask a few questions. 

“I got our favorite shrimp tempura sushi to split with you, but I ended up eating it all myself,” Leah pouts at you as you join them today.

A lie easily rolls off your tongue. “Oh, last minute reports were emailed to me, with the deadline coming up thanks to the holidays, they’re running them daily now to look for any sign up upward movement on the graphs.”

They buy it, easily shutting down any romance rumors they could have generated. You realize that you could have told some of the truth, that Seokjin was babying you because you sprained your ankle, and maybe help you win the shoes that started this insanity. Instead, with that little fib, it appears you’ve worked against your best interest, planting no seeds to make the others think something’s going on romantically between you and Seokjin. 

You’ve been so busy with work and secretly dating, you forgot that your girls would be the best chance you have to prove that you are right and Seokjin is wrong. 

Seriously, I could have told most of the truth, and that would have been enough to have the girls ask why Seokjin was taking care of me. I would deny anything they accused, because I can’t break my own rules, but planting that seed would allow them to at least wonder. They might then, as women do, embark on a hunt for the truth. Then when it came time at the party to ask if anyone had found out, they would be the ones to stand up and say yes! But I’m a little too good at this, you say, forehead wrinkled in disdain at yourself, exactly what Seokjin must be banking on to win this thing.

“Stop frowning, you’ll get wrinkles and then you’ll be single forever!” Hana jokes, and you laugh listlessly.

Maybe it’s time you call someone you can talk to about everything going on. 

📈📈📈📈📈

“Grandma, you don’t understand, he’s unserious on his best days, insufferable on his worst, and…” you pause, adjusting your leg where you have it propped up on a small chair you stole from an empty office. You plan to leave in a few minutes so you can go home and get ready for your date with Seokjin, but wanted to rest your ankle briefly before walking to the bus stop. It doesn’t hurt as much now, but you want to make sure it heals up well to avoid any weakening later.

She hums knowingly in your ear. “Let me guess, he’s handsome, rich, and doesn’t appreciate his status in life.”

“Yes! Exactly, he lives with an all play and no work attitude—”

“And you want him to be your boyfriend,” she tacks on, effectively shutting you down.

“Grandma!”

“What? You called me for some real talk, right?”

You whine, and she laughs, her musical giggle making you miss her.

“Sweetie, listen. I’ve known you your whole life, so I know you pretty well. You like things that are orderly and neat, that fit well into your life. But that’s not much of a fun life. And it’s not what we hoped for you when we sent you off to Seoul.” You hear her sigh, and remain quiet, knowing she’s about to impart something that will stay with you. “It sounds like this Jin guy is exactly the kind of man you need in your life. He’s realized one of the best things about life that most of us don’t realize until it’s too late: Life is not so serious that we need to live a life with regrets. Yes, he has moments where maybe he should behave with a little more…sincerity, but overall, it sounds like you do that enough between the two of you.”

You nod, biting your lip as you take in her words. “Maybe.”

“You’ve been working so hard on your schooling and then your career, and you’ve made it so far! Overcome every academic and career goal thrown at you. But that’s only part of who you are. I think it’s nice that this young man is so attuned to you, that he’s challenging you in areas like love and life.”

“Who said anything about love? We’ve only been seeing each other for a week and a half!”

“No one said you were in love, sweetie, but your defensiveness means you like him a little more than you thought.”

You tuck your phone between your ear and your shoulder, logging into your desktop so you can check some emails while you chat. Multi-tasking always helps you when you need to open up—focusing on a menial task helps cover that feeling in your chest when you discuss said feelings.

“I mean, if I’m honest with myself, yes. He’s surprised me in ways I wasn’t expecting. And I know that two people can kiss when dating, but, I don’t know…is he kissing me because he’s taking advantage of whatever this is, or is he kissing me because he likes me and wants it to be more? I’m confused about what happens next, you know?”

“My smart girl, have you thought about asking him?”

“I can’t just ask him! He’s my boss!” You wish she understood that times are not the same as when she was young.

“Yes, your boss who you are already dating!”

“But not for real! Not after Saturday!”

“What’s happening Saturday?” she questions, and you stall, not wanting to hear what she’s going to say when you tell her the full truth.

“Well, we’ve been going on dates because…we made a bet. To see if workplace romances can be kept secret or not. It started last week and we have set rules so neither of us cheats, and this Saturday is the CEO’s holiday party, which Jin invited me to as his date, and we will see if any of our work friends noticed we were dating or not.”

She laughs heartily, and you hate that she seems so wise about this when you feel so clueless.

“Oh, I needed that laugh. You’re telling me that your boss—a hot, rich executive—made a bet with you to see if workplace romances can work, he’s kissed you a few times and takes you out on dates, drives you to work now that you’ve sprained your ankle, asked you to be his date to another exec’s party, and you’re still confused about where the two of you stand?”

Hearing her put it into this perspective bolsters your confidence a bit. It isn’t like you haven’t already thought about this same formula, but your grandma is missing one term from this equation, and it's your feelings. Your feelings are clouding your ability to act on this information. You tell her just as much.

“I’m just scared. I think that the risk of rejection is overpowering everything for me right now.”

“I know that risk is scary, you think I wasn’t scared when you moved away to attend school? But the reward? Seeing you excel in your career has been so lovely to witness. I’m so proud of you. I just want you to have someone to take care of you when I’m not here anymore.”

You want to fight her on this, but you don’t want to discount her emotions. “I know, and while I’d be fine having you take care of me forever, I think it would only be fair to let you pass the heavy lifting onto someone else.”

“And by the sounds of it, Jin has a nice set of shoulders for that.”

You’re about to answer her when a knock at your door startles you.

“Hold on, Grandma,” you say before raising your voice. “Come in!”

The topic of conversation steps into your office, shutting the door behind him. “Hey, I’m so sorry to do this, but we have to push our date tonight to tomorrow.”

“Oh? Is everything okay?” you question, taking in the way his face is pinched, grumpy.

“Yeah, I mean, no one’s dying or anything, but my dad just sent me an email, summoning me to meet with him about a potential investor.”

“Wouldn’t this typically be Soobin’s job?” you point out. Choi Soobin, the investor relations director for JinHit, typically would meet to discuss potential investors first before looping Seokjin in as CEO.

“Yes, but you know my father…”

“I’m sorry, bab—um, b-but, it’s okay, we can move it to Thursday.” You stumble over the words, trying to cover up the slip of tongue.

“You’re amazing, you know that? I’m so sorry to do this.”

“No, I get it. You want to prove to your father you got this, and rightfully so. You’ve done amazing helping me with everything, even though you have so much on your plate already.”

“You know good and well that you, Soobin, and the others take on a lot of the responsibilities, I just oversee it. It’s been nice to actually get my hands dirty with work, use my degree.” Seokjin’s phone chimes. After a roll of his eyes, he apologizes again. “Duty calls. I’ll see you tomorrow, babe.” With that last remark and a wink, he leaves your office. You can hear laughter coming from your phone, forgotten in your hand. Bringing your grandma back to your ear, you speak before she can.

“Don’t even start, Grandma. I already know what you’re going to say.” You click on the email invite that Seokjin sent you about the holiday party at Namjoon’s, eyes re-reading the info. “So just help me think of a good present to get him for the party Saturday.”

📈📈📈📈📈

Seokjin’s POV 

Seokjin can’t help but to grin as he walks back to his office. You almost slipped up and called him babe. Or baby. Either way, he feels like he’s on cloud nine, and tomorrow will be the perfect moment to tell you just how he feels. He hates that he showed up less than a half hour before you get off to cancel, but he would rather give you the respect of doing it in person than over text. 

He scans the subject of the email he received while in your office, seeing it’s a reply to the email he sent yesterday, from Namjoon. Hustling back to his CFO office, he logs in and clicks through the various apps until the email pops up. 

Seokjin, Thank you for keeping me up to date with the financial reports, the numbers seem to be trending back up thanks to the mitigating efforts you and your department have done. Make sure to tell your better half thank you, since I know it was really all her. Also, your signature is a little…informal for work…I would love to know who is on the receiving end of the “Your Handsome Lover, Jin-Oppa” so I can congratulate her for tying you down. I would say bring her to the party, but I know you are already planning to bring YN, and it would be rude to swap them out last minute.  Kim Namjoon, MA, BSBA CEO of JinHit Conglomerate

“Ah fuck.” Jin smacks his head, realizing his mistake. This is exactly the kind of fuck up you said couples dating at work would make, but luckily, his best friend is clueless to the fact that the same person Seokjin plans to bring to the party is the same person who will hopefully end up taking him off the market. Will this lead Seokjin to lose on Saturday? He doesn’t care about losing the bet and having to buy the shoes—he can afford to buy you the same shoes every day for the rest of your life. 

No, what Seokjin is most worried about is that if he loses on Saturday, it will be the data that you need, the proof that will make you decide that you can’t be with Seokjin after this is all said and done. And he can’t have that. 

He begins typing out a reply, mostly to say that he agrees with Namjoon, that his email was informal and he was sorry for not paying attention, oh and of course he would make sure to introduce Namjoon to the woman one day, hopefully soon, and that yes, it would be quite rude to swap out dates last minute. 

It’s an hour later after he’s finished typing out this reply that he leaves work to cross town to meet with his father. Seokjin’s feeling a little sour about the fact that he had to cancel his plans with you and meet with his dad, especially since it’s not his job to do this part of the investment process, but thanks to Do Not Disturb while driving, he misses the message his father sends. 

Jin (5:15 PM): I’m leaving work now, I should be there in time for the meeting at 6:30. 아버지 (Father) (5:45 PM): The investors can’t make it today, which is lucky since you aren’t taking rush hour traffic into account. I will let you know when it has been rescheduled, and I will make sure you will be on time.  Jin (6:28 PM): [Request Pay from Kim Namjung ₩25,000 for gas]

Reader POV

By Thursday, your ankle is finally feeling back to normal but you don’t want to push it too much, so you put on your lowest heels. You figure this would be perfect with your cinch-waisted dress, held shut by the buttons running down the middle. Despite the chill as you head downstairs to wait for Seokjin, you are glad with your choice thanks to the appreciative look Seokjin gives your figure. His right hand rests along your thigh as he drives you to work, talking about the date he’s planned for the two of you tonight.

“I know it’s a little chilly out, so I figured we could go check out Seoul Sky tonight, and then eat afterwards. What do you think?”

“Wow, how am I supposed to top that? I’ve never been to the observatory, but it sounds amazing.”

“What kind of food do you want to eat? You seem to like most foods, based on what you eat for lunch, but what’s your favorite?”

You ponder his question for a bit, eyes roving around the car as you gather your thoughts. “Mmm…I guess my favorite is home cooking. I miss my grandma’s meals the most since I’ve been here.”

“Ahhh, home cooking always hits the spot. I used to cook a lot when I was younger. My father was always busy with work and my brother and I were left alone a lot. My mom scolded us once for bothering the staff too much for specific meals, so we decided to learn from them how to make the meals we enjoyed. In college, I would cook a lot for the fraternity and it became a hobby of mine. My brother actually is the head of Food Science for JinHit. He handles the cafeteria, catering for entertainment, as well as Nutrition for the idols employed.”

“Really? I’ve met him a few times to discuss finances for catering services and resources for nutrition programs! He’s really cool.”

“Don’t tell me my girlfriend secretly loves my brother and I have to duel him to the death for you.”

You burst into laughter, giggly peals filling the car as Seokjin just glances at you then looks back at the road. “No! He’s just cool and he feeds us, which is super important.”

“Okay,” Seokjin says as he pulls into his designated CFO  parking spot, “so the way to your heart is through shoes and food, got it.”

You climb out of the car before he can come around and open the door for you. “And don’t you forget it,” you tease, walking away from him. 

Your day goes well to start, with not too many taxing assignments with the weekend fast approaching. Tomorrow is the last day at work before the office is closed for a three day weekend. Christmas falls on Monday, and despite half of the company not celebrating religiously, it is a public holiday and enjoyed as a day off by all. With the work day coming to a close, you hear when the arrival of good news enters everyone’s inbox. 

“Did you see?” Soobin sticks his head into your propped open doorway, a large smile covering his face from cheek to cheek.

“Not yet, but it sounds like it’s worth celebrating!”

“It is!” His happiness is contagious. “Our gracious CEO gave us off until the 2nd of January! Since it would be a short work week anyways, he wanted everyone to be able to enjoy the holiday with family, whether they live in Seoul or Busan.”

“That’s amazing!”

“I’m off to find Yeonjun in IT, we might catch the train home together.” Soobin ducks his fluffy head out of the entryway and disappears down the hall with a loud whoop! as others continue their cheering. You smile softly to yourself as you check the email; your last minute idea to have the office closed for the holiday would save the company more than it would lose during this time. The company would be able to save on day-to-day expenditures of running a company, work that typically does not happen because of the distraction of the holiday will continue to not be done, therefore the tradeoff between having the building open for work but no work getting done would balance out, and employee morale will be greater upon returning and resuming work in the new year.

It was an idea you had thanks to your talk with your grandma. When you pointed out that Seokjin was all play no work, and unserious, she had mentioned that you needed some of that in your life. Why wouldn’t the rest of the workers in a large conglomerate also need that? You knew you weren’t the only person with a Type A personality in this building, who worked too hard and barely rewarded themselves with a vacation or fun. So a little forced vacation will do wonders all around, without a loss in sight.

Stretching your arms above your head, you finish the last of your auditing and save your report before locking your computer. You’re excited to experience Seoul Sky tonight, and not just because it is your first time experiencing it, but because who you will be with is worth the trip to such crazy heights.         

📈📈📈📈📈

Seokjin’s POV

“It’s incredible!” The view you are witnessing truly is, Seokjin can’t lie. It looks as if the city goes on forever, and the fiery rays cascade along the horizon in a beautiful show of combusting fragments of stardust.

“We made it just in time, and we will get to see the night sky too before we eat,” he says. “Let’s step a little closer, you’re missing some of the view.” He ushers you to step onto the glass floor, your low heels clicking weirdly on the thick glass. 

“Oh, Seokjin, it’s exhilarating!” 

“From here, you can see JinHit, it’s right there,” Seokjin leans into you, holding you tightly as if you might fall from so high up. He aligns your body so you have a better chance of seeing what he’s pointing to. 

“I see it! I bet it’s gorgeous at night.” 

“Mmm, yes, but maybe we should shut off the power to save money...”

You laugh at his joke, and he feels his heart flutter a little. You’ve changed towards him, and the view offers more than just all of the sights of Seoul—so many opportunities lay at the tip of his finger, still pointing at JinHit—the first one being you.

“Can you imagine how the air must be from up this high?”

He can’t bear to make a negative joke about the air quality in Seoul as he sees the way your irises seemingly reflect the setting sun, a small milky way of glittering solar systems he could get lost in.

“Yes, Kicks, I think it’s rather breathtaking...like you.”

You turn away from the sunset and he sees you catch his gaze trained in your direction, and it’s like he’s seeing you for the first time. The view of Seoul at sunset from almost 1,821 feet disappears around you. You’re the only thing he can see, and he only hopes that you feel the same, or at least you are starting to feel the same about him as he does for you. 

📈📈📈📈📈

“When you told me about how you can cook, I didn’t know you meant that you would be cooking for me!” Sitting at the large island in Seokjin’s lofted penthouse apartment, you watch as he moves sveltely between the sink and the island stovetop, pans heated as he adds the ingredients he chopped and minced with you. 

“Ah, well I wanted it to be a surprise.” He looks great in his slacks, button-down sleeves rolled up with an apron around his neck and waist so he doesn’t stain the baby blue fabric. It is quite the surprise, and you tell him so.

“Homemade Japchae sounds amazing right now, are you sure there isn’t anything else I can do to help?”

“No, Kicks, you already prepped the vegetables and now it’s just time for you to relax and enjoy. Look around if you want.” Seokjin sets aside the stir fried vegetables as he adds the protein option to the pan, seasoning and cooking it until browned. You decide to give yourself a small tour, not venturing too far or into any closed doors. The penthouse is modern, with a lot of black furniture, grey accent pieces, and white walls. The glass walls are two stories, spanning the height of the lofted area as well, situated above the kitchen. You take a few steps up the stairs until you can see through the clear banister into what appears to be Seokjin’s bedroom, before returning to your seat. You’re much more comfortable there than exploring dangerous areas alone.

The two of you continue to talk about your lives outside of work as he cooks; you share more about your family and where you lived before Seoul, and him about his fraternity days and hobbies. Once the glass noodles were cooked in the Japchae sauce, and the protein and vegetables re-added, you move to sit comfortably on his couch, eating as you watch a popular K Drama on his large flatscreen. 

“I really enjoyed tonight, Jin.” You can’t describe in words how you feel, you just know you haven’t felt feelings like this towards Seokjin of this caliber before. Something has changed, but you don’t know whether it’s you or Seokjin, or both. He places his plate into the sink where you stand, washing dishes, then leans against the counter to watch you. “Since you did all of the heavy lifting, I’ll clean up.”

“You didn’t have to, you know. This is still a date.”

“Yes, but even in relationships, people go on dates and I’m sure that they still take turns with household chores and stuff.”

He hums in agreement, then disappears out of the kitchen. You finish washing, lay the dishes on the rack with the pans, and then turn around to make your way back to the living room. You find Seokjin lighting the last of the candles he’s placed around the room, a tray and two flutes of champagne on the low glass table near the dark colored couch.

“What’s all this?” you ask, voice low in astonishment and something else. The room is dim, but the candles provide enough light to see and the ambiance is much more romantic than anything you’ve previously shared with Seokjin.

You watch as Seokjin’s features flit through different emotions before answering you, and before you can question him more about it. “I, well a proper date should be more than just a home-cooked meal. I also have dessert for us, and wanted to celebrate a bit, too.”

“Celebrate?”

“Yes,” he pats the couch next to where he’s sat. “I saw the preliminary reports. I think we’re gonna clear it this fiscal year. All thanks to you.”

You cross the rest of the distance to sit next to him, still feeling timid in his home. You take the flute of bubbly gold with a shy smile, still not used to this treatment and praise.

“You worked hard too, Seokjin. We did it together.” Clinking your glasses together, the two of you down the Dom Perignon. As Seokjin sets down his glass, he reaches for one of the chocolate-covered strawberries set atop the tray.

“Try this, these are grown on my uncle's farm,” he shares, scooting closer to you on the couch so he can feed you the strawberry. You lean in, mouth watering at the aroma of the chocolate coating the fruit. With the first bite, an explosion of flavor erupts in your mouth, and you moan a little at how succulent it is. A trickle of the red juice rolls from the corner of your lip. Too busy savoring the flavor, Seokjin slowly swipes up your chin to gather the strawberry juice, bringing it to his lips to suck the flavor off. 

You watch as his tongue pushes through the part in his lips, the tip rolling backwards across his bottom lip as he brings his teeth to bite the plump, pink skin. The look in his eyes matches the candle flames and you’re positive yours reflect the same. Placing your hand onto his shoulder, you guide him back onto the couch so he can sit properly as you swing your leg over his thighs. Planted on his lap, it’s nothing to lean in, your mouth seeking him in a slow kiss, wet sounds filling the quiet as you press yourself into him harder, hips grinding down onto the tent pressing into your core. 

“Fuck,” Seokjin hisses when your mouth moves to his neck, biting gently to avoid leaving marks in visible spots. His hands grasp your ass, pulling you into him with a rocking rhythm with more force. His lips search to bring yours back to his, hands pulling at your dress. Once his hands breach the hem, you feel the warmth of his skin on your thighs, fingertips trailing up to the waistband of your panties.

He pulls back from the kiss, forehead resting against yours as you both try and catch your breath. “Do you want this?” he asks, fingers tugging gently at the lace.

“Yes,” you breathe out, not waiting for more words as you kiss him again, raising your hips to allow him to pull your panties down your thighs. You raise each knee off the couch, helping him until your bare skin meets his slacks. His fingers dip to your center, and you’re pleased at the sound he makes when he feels just how wet you are. You stay up on your knees as he explores, the subtle teasing around your clit only heightening the feeling you crave. 

When he presses two fingers into you, you keen, face pressing into his neck as his fingers scissor and glide, thumb pressing into your clit with each plunge. You rock your hips, seeking more friction and he gives in, using his palm as he sinks deeper inside of you, allowing you to take control of your pleasure. 

“You feel so tight, but you’re so wet,” he marvels after a particularly hard shudder, and you sit back, knees weak as he pulls his fingers free.

“Want you to feel me properly,” you pout as his tongue licks up the side of his finger before he sucks them both into his mouth. You clench around nothing, the action making you want him more. You finger the buttons on your dress, popping each open in secession. It’s your turn to reach for the waistband of his pants, eyes on his as you seek his consent. “Do you want this?”

“More than you know, baby.” You smile to yourself as you focus on the button and zipper on his slacks until his hands join yours to grip the edge of both his briefs and pants until he has them past his knees, hardened cock bouncy as it awaits you to take your rightful seat upon it. You gasp as your eyes take in the size of it being bigger than you expected; it explains the cockiness he exhibits in his day to day.

Spitting into your hand, you grip his member, thumb trailing down the pearlescent stickiness from the head. He breathes out a huff, the steely silk growing more solid with each stroke. 

“Don’t tease me, Kicks, I’ve waited a long time for this.”

Once again you rise onto your knees, inching closer to him with hands on his broad shoulders for balance. You can feel Seokjin lining up the head to your core, running it across your pussy several times to coat it with your essence. Dropping onto his thick length, he fills you to the point of stretching you out, toes curling from the press into your most sensitive parts. You don’t wait, enjoying the way that the stretch burns as it turns to pleasure, and you let loose in a way you haven’t before. 

It’s frenetic, the way each of your hands travel along each other's bodies, lips seeking and sucking into each other's skin, opening clothing for more points of contact, to bring you closer to each other than you’ve ever been. It doesn’t take long, riding him as you are, for the coil to build and snap inside you, crying out as you throw your head back. 

“That’s it, baby, let me feel you,” Seokjin coaches you through your climax, holding you as you shake in his arms. You mewl as he shifts, thighs lifting you both as he stands, cock still sheathed inside of you. He steps out of his discarded clothing and walks you to the stairs that lead to his loft. He’s impatient, pausing every few steps to press you into the wall and fuck himself up into you until he makes it to the landing of his bedroom. 

Getting you to the bed, he places you on your back at the edge, hands trailing up along your legs until he grips your ankles. Bringing them together in front of him, he rests your calves onto his shoulder before slow-grinding himself into you, your swollen lips suctioning him deeper as they mold to fit around him.

“Jin, fuck, you feel so good,” your voice a high pitch as you squirm. 

“Yeah, baby?” He’s breathless, hips picking up speed as you clench around him, the lewd sounds of your pussy squelching show just how good he feels. He spreads your legs then, picking you up and placing you farther on the bed so he can join you, this time sans shirts. 

With a grunt, he pushes deep as his hands reach around and skillfully unhooks your bra. He slows his hip rolls as his lips toy with a freed nipple, tongue laving until it’s pert and he moves to the other to give the same treatment. He takes a hand, trailing it down the center of your body. His thumb presses into your clit, and he speeds up, pleading, “Cum with me, you can give me another one.”

You give him what he wants, his voice raspy with restraint is the thing that topples you over the edge, and his restraint is let go moments later when you squeeze him impossibly tight. The deep sounds that he lets out are loud, curses mingled with your name, not your nickname, but your real name, tumble from his lips as he releases into you, short pumps of his cock until he’s empty. He collapses his weight onto you, but it’s comforting, not crushing. You feel his arms wrap around you as he rolls onto his back, pulling you with him to cuddle your body into his chest. 

“I’ll clean us up in a minute, wanna enjoy this feeling.”

Seokjin closes his eyes, but you agree with him, you don’t want to move just yet, because the pleasure coursing through your veins feels like nothing you’ve ever felt before, and not just because of the sex—you’ve done that a few times. It’s because of the man whose arms you're in, but his light snores let you know it's too late in the night to tell him.

You wake long before your alarm, but less sticky than when you fell asleep, Seokjin keeping to his word. You feel his arm strewn over your middle, so you turn and take in his slumber-filled face. His hair flops onto the pillow, lips puckered slightly as quiet breaths escape him. Smiling at how peaceful he looks, you don’t want to leave just yet, not when the bed is so warm, and even in his sleep he wants to keep you close, but you have no clothes for work. You silently climb out of his bed, going to the bathroom to freshen up before getting dressed. You call for a KakaoTaxi, and once it arrives, you kiss Seokjin on the forehead before leaving. 

Once at home, you take the time to shower and get dressed for work, thinking about what you can do for the last date tonight. You know you want it to be special, because after the amazing night spent in Seokjin’s arms, him between your legs and splitting your walls…you’ve come to realize something significant. You like him. You like Kim Seokjin and you don’t want to stop being with him once tomorrow comes. 

Deciding to take a leap of faith, you channel your grandma’s advice and decide that tonight at dinner, you will confess your feelings to him. You’re pretty sure that he feels the same way, based on his words and actions last night when you both showed each other a whole new side. You send a text to Seokjin saying he doesn’t need to pick you up, that you’re heading to work early and you’ll see him later. 

He sends a quick reply of Be safe, beautiful. Can’t wait. Which is more than you expected from him so early in the morning but makes you feel giddy, solidifying your assumption of how he feels about you.

Once in your office, you utilize the extra time to search for a place to take Seokjin that’s worthy of hopefully becoming the place where you and he can become a ‘we’, but out of the limited places you contact, there’s no reservations available. You don’t have the sway to pull strings the way Seokjin could, but asking him or your coworkers for help would break one of the rules of your agreement. 

The sun shifts across your office, giving way to midday as you work with good old-fashioned paper, pen, and highlighters, but you haven’t seen him or his broad shoulders that you’re sure you left some marks on last night. Rolling your computer chair back from the desk, you lean back precariously as you take a much-needed deep stretch and vacate your seat. It’s a quick trip from the 48th to the 50th floor; you figure if Seokjin isn’t in his office near yours, he must be working in his C-Suite office upstairs. Unfortunately, when you peek your head into the room, the vast dark-oak desk is empty, his large Samsung monitor turned off when you venture farther in. 

With a sigh, you leave the office, nearly walking headfirst into Kim Namjoon. 

“Looking for Jin-hyung?” his low baritone questions. “He's at a meeting with his dad to discuss some financial stuff, he’s been emailing me all day asking to be rescued.”

“Oh, I wonder if he emailed me too. I’ve been reviewing printed reports all morning.”

“I made the mistake of answering him thinking he needed work-related info—nope! He just wanted to tell me about how he’s been craving the truffle pasta at Flavors.”

You laugh at this, unable to hold back the smile as you imagine how bored Seokjin must be to be emailing about food. You thank Namjoon and head back to your office, an idea of where to go now planted in your mind.

Everything is falling into place for tonight, and you send Seokjin an email before you leave at 5 PM, detailing the plan for your reservation at Flavors tonight at 7 PM. His response is full of excitement, shocked that you read his mind about his craving (thank you, Namjoon!), and that he’ll meet you there and you better not be late. 

Closing down your computer for the long holiday weekend per IT’s email, you gather your belongings and head home to get ready.

📈📈📈📈📈

Seokjin’s POV

Sliding his phone back into his pocket, Seokjin tries to hide his grin from his father. 

“What are you smiling about?”

Seokjin takes a breath to keep from rolling his eyes and relaxes his face into a look of innocence. “Nothing,” he shrugs, mentally doing the math as he clambers into the car his father has chauffeuring them around. “Are we headed back to the office now? I have a few things I need to do tonight for Namjoon’s party tomorrow.” And a hot date waiting for me, he thinks.

“Not just yet, actually. I have one last meeting for us at Paradise City.”

Seokjin groans. “Father, it’s a holiday weekend, there’s nothing more we need to do today that we can’t do after Christmas weekend.”

“It won’t be long, Seokjin, we’re around the corner already. I swear your work ethic is piss-poor, sometimes I regret naming you my successor.”

It might not be a long trip from the hotel they just finished meeting at to Paradise City, but they were already over an hour away from where he should be meeting you in less than two. Irritated, Seokjin quietly tries to do the math for how long this meeting can be before he has to be on his way to you, but knowing his father, he worries about making it to you on time. 

As the car pulls to the front of the main entrance, Seokjin decides to message you, just a warning that he will be late due to his father’s overbearing and controlling tendencies. He exits the car first, standing to the side to type a quick message as his father follows him onto the pavement. 

“Put your phone away.”

When Seokjin ignores his demand, his father snatches his phone from his hands, pocketing the small device.

“Really, Father, you are being insufferable right now.” 

“And you, son, are being rude.” Seokjin’s dad leaves him to head into the bustling hotel and casino, and with his phone held hostage, he has no choice but to follow him inside. 

Once seated next to the thief at a four-top, Seokjin begs for his phone, but his father ignores him as he smiles at someone behind Seokjin’s head. 

“Lee Jaeyong-ssi!”

“Kim Namjung-ssi!” The man bows to the elder Kim before sitting in the seat next to Seokjin. Seokjin gapes in horror at his dad as he realizes what his father has roped him into when the 19-year-old daughter of the country’s largest GDP contributor walks around the table to sit across from Seokjin.

📈📈📈📈📈

Reader POV

You’re prompt, body electrified as you give your name for the reservation and are led to a quaint, black-marbled table. The only downfall to the seating arrangement of the restaurant is that larger group tables line the walls with comfortable grey booth seating, while the tables for couples fill the middle walkway. Smoothing the little black dress with baby doll straps, you sit in the chair pulled out for you.

You take in the romantically lit room as the Maître d' pours you a glass of red wine, leaving the expensive bottle in a wine chiller on a small stand next to the table. Checking your phone, there’s no reply message from Seokjin of his estimated arrival time, but you don’t worry too much, thinking he’s probably parking his car or nearby enough. It’s only minutes past the hour, so you shirk off the cropped, fur-lined jacket from your shoulders and drape it over the back of your chair. 

It’s fitting that the table is in the middle of the room, out in the open as if a reflection of where you want to take this relationship with Seokjin. You think you’re finally ready to admit to him what you realized last night and this morning.

7:17 PM. The Maître d' returns to ask if you would like to order. You tell him that you are still waiting for the other person to arrive, and give a little white lie that he’s just running late.

“What is the name of the other half of your party? I will make sure to bring him promptly when he arrives.” 

“Oh, it’s Kim Seokjin,” you reply shyly. His eyes widen minutely at your unintentional name drop, and that coupled with murmurs from the guests seated nearby, leaves you feeling a heat rising up your neck. He excuses himself, saying he will be back to check on you once your date arrives. 

7:47 PM. The looks of pity start to trickle into your view as you turn your head to look towards the door for the millionth time. The Maître d' has walked past to escort other patrons to tables, but he avoids coming over to you—you guess it’s because he doesn’t want to draw attention to the fact that you’re still alone, and he said he would be back only once Seokjin arrived. You appreciate his tactfulness, but you worry as you check your phone again for a message. 

8:17 PM. Your phone is held to your face, dial tone ringing in your ear but you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve called him. All of your text messages have gone unread, and inside you simmer with feelings of shame and embarrassment. Your phone (along with others in the vicinity) chimed with a notification from the WeVerse App, reporting a major headline. 

JinHit CFO Kim Seokjin Spotted with 19-year-old Samsung Heiress—And Their Fathers!

And in smaller font underneath: Marriage meeting? Should we expect wedding bells and a massive business union? The read more teases photos catching the quartet out at Paradise City.

A fool, you think, realizing Seokjin must’ve never planned to come. Paradise City is almost an hour and half by car at this time of night. I am a fool for even entertaining the thought of giving my heart to this man!  

Standing from the chair, you don’t bother hiding your emotions on your face as you grab your jacket and toss the cloth napkin onto the table before fleeing to the front to hail a taxi, waiting in the cold as unique snowflakes begin to fall from the sky with fluttery movements, before melting away a few moments after making contact with earthly items.  

📈📈📈📈📈

At home, you sit on the edge of your couch unclasping the delicate buckle on your Manolo Blahniks. Tonight’s fucked with your mind more than Seokjin has the entire time this deal was in place. What started as a way to win—a way to prove you were smarter than Seokjin, better at mitigating for the company, gain a pair of expensive shoes—is turning into a stock market crash of the worst proportions. 

Your grandma’s words float through your head and in this moment, you’re hit with a sudden clarity that this was never about a pair of expensive shoes. It was about letting yourself take a chance to live a little and be happy for once—hopeful that happiness with another person was within your reach—the heel you clutch in your hand, having slipped it off of your foot, sails through the air, hitting the off-white wall of your apartment. 

You wake, puffy-eyed and unexcited, thinking about how things will be weird tonight for the party at Namjoon’s place, because not only have you slept with Jin, he’s also shattered your heart into a million pieces. It’s not the first time the thought crosses your mind that he might have known he was going to be set up with a child (no offense to 19-year-olds, the age gap is ridiculous no matter how rich your daddy is) and chose to spend his last weeks of freedom stringing you along, choosing to finally sleep with you right before he was off the market.

You fell asleep easily, but your phone ringing repeatedly woke you up close to midnight. The screen was blinding, but you could see who was calling you and you decidedly ignored the call, silencing your phone. You were then unable to return to sleep until hints of sunlight peeked through the curtains, and the consequences of that are now reflecting in your mirror. 

This is just Jin being Jin, your mind says, when has he ever been serious about anything? He’s just flirty, and wanted to get his rocks off before robbing the cradle in sickness or in health. This is nothing new and he was just having fun with you. Going through the motions of your skincare routine, the feelings of disappointment and hurt are there, lingering in your chest with each breath, but you’ve decided to be tough. Your brain doing what it does best, trying to rationalize everything that isn’t a fact, blaming the way your emotions temporarily made you dumb. 

‘I should’ve known’ repeats like a mantra in your head no matter how you try to drown it out with music from your phone. You’ve always had an uncanny ability to be hopeful when you know you shouldn’t, because good things like this never work out. You just forgot that little fact, but last night is the perfect reminder. 

The thoughts settling in help as you go through the motions: toner onto a cotton pad wiped along your face, moisturizer gently massaged into your skin. Once you’ve finished with your makeup, it’s as if you move on autopilot, your fingers deft as they put the final touches wrapping the gift for Seokjin you finalized after work yesterday. Your logical brain reminds you that this party is nothing more than coworkers hanging out, a chance to put the bet—and your fake relationship—to rest, and making sure to bring a gift like the invite said is your way to show Seokjin that he didn’t get to you. He might win the bet, he might’ve had you wallowing last night, but he won’t continue to win power over your emotions. 

You reread the last message he sent before sending him a text as you slip into the persona needed to survive tonight.

Jin (2:04 AM) - Please, baby, just…let me know you’re okay. I can explain everything. You (1:14 PM) - I’m getting ready to go to the party, what time will you be here?

Your phone lights up as an incoming call flashes across your screen, but you ignore it, letting your ringtone play until he hangs up. 

Jin (1:15 PM) - Can I come now? You (1:20 PM) - I’m not ready yet and have some things to do beforehand, so if you can just let me know what time to expect you, I can make sure I’m ready when you get here.

You set your phone down, watching the bubbles pop up and disappear, indicating that he’s typing, but it still takes him ten minutes to send five words.

Jin (1:30 PM) - I’ll be there at 7:30.

📈📈📈📈📈

The drive to Namjoon’s party goes well for you, if you say so yourself. Not ready to deal with being alone with Seokjin, you make sure to call one of your friends from back home, spending the entire trip with your phone glued to your ear, rudely ignoring Seokjin’s attempts to talk to you until he gives up.

Walking into Namjoon’s place, the distinct smell of a fresh Christmas Tree wafts into your senses as his fiance greets you at the door. She’s all cute and small with a pretty smile as she bounces through the home to lead you and Seokjin to the living room. You greet the others who have already arrived, Yoongi and his girlfriend Leah, and Hoseok and his fiance, YuRim. A table near the Christmas Tree holds the gifts, so you walk over to deposit your gift bag, Seokjin following with a bag of his own to set down. 

The layout of the room is an open concept, and Namjoon stands in the kitchen with oven mitts on. It’s a little strange to see your boss in such a state, matching fleece Christmas onesies with Khaity, oven mitts covering his hands, and a stressed look on his face as he stares at the small timer on the counter.

“Oh, honey, let me take the cookies out, okay? Come sit down with our guests.” Khaity rises onto her tiptoes to kiss his cheek as she slips the mitts off his hands before gently nudging him towards the sitting area.

Another knock rings out, and soon Namjoon leads Jungkook in with NaBi. You aren’t sure whether she came with Jungkook or arrived at the same time and was invited by Namjoon, seeing as she is his secretary, but the way they smile at each other softens the wall that you built up against love. Even if you and Seokjin were a failed attempt, you hope that those two blind co-workers might figure it out. 

The macadamia nut cookies are first out of the oven, Khaity plating and placing them on the table between the couches where everyone is gathered. The last to arrive, Taehyung with Hana and Jimin, trickle in a few minutes later complaining that the cookies were all gone. 

“We have chocolate chip ones coming out next, you can have first dibs, okay?” Namjoon appeases before his face turns into confusion. “Wait, where’s your plus one?” 

“I ended things with Ji-Soo.”

Everyone shows various levels of shock, and despite avoiding him since arriving, you can’t help but to meet Seokjin’s eye with a raised brow. 

“Really? Why?” NaBi asks, truly invested in their drama.

“She’s just…a little brainless. Nice tits, but let’s be honest, we live in the plastic surgery capital of the world.”

“Well, I guess we know who gets to wear the ‘Ho, Ho, Ho’ santa hat tonight,” Leah jokes, tossing the furry red cap to Jimin.

“Gladly! But I had to block her number, she’s been blowing up my phone the past few days, and it’s gotten to be too much.”

“Probably for the best, right? You start your last semester next month,” Taehyung reminds his best friend. 

“We’ll see, I might need to find a hot tutor in the class, maybe I can convince her to do my homework.”

“Do your homework, or do you?” Jungkook asks deadpan, and everyone laughs, the room full of mirth and holiday cheer.

“Why not both?” you second, sending the room into another round of giggles, and despite the awkwardness with Seokjin, you feel yourself relax into the persona you’ve adjusted into place to get through the night. You can do this, you remind yourself.

And you do a great job meshing with the group, hanging out with your coworkers and helping Khaity in the kitchen with some finger foods and more cookies to avoid Seokjin until the inevitable moment arrives. Gift exchange.

“All right, I’m going to get more wine in the kitchen,” Jimin stands, stretching his arms high as he steps over the others to escape the lovey dovey atmosphere as the couples exchange gifts. 

Seokjin calls to him to wait, and everyone watches as he grabs the gift bag off of the table. Holding one of the dainty handles, his free hand reaches in and reveals a decent sized wine bottle in his grasp. “Can you take this with you? I got it as a contribution to the party.” 

Jimin busies himself across the room with an open bottle of wine and his glass and you wish you could join him instead of engaging in the most awkward event since everything imploded last night. You pass the gift over to Seokjin who takes it with a little bit of shock, as if he’s just realized what type of party he came to and what he was supposed to do—and how he just fucked up.

Leah opens her gift first, a lavender velvet box containing a necklace. A small slip of paper flutters out, and she reads it before sharing the information. “A 100% pure sterling silver necklace with amethyst stones spelling a morse code message.”

“What’s the message?” Hana asks, leaning to look at the glittering stones.

“Badass Bitch.”

Taehyung laughs the loudest, almost choking on the chocolate chip cookie he was chewing.

“So, Seokjin, wanna tell us about the latest WeVerse gossip?” NaBi teases from the floor where she sits cross legged, cheeky grin as she rocks side to side next to Jungkook. Her hands fidget with the small charm on the bracelet Jungkook gifted her that you’re too far away to see clearly.

“Oh fuck, what a nightmare. My father basically kidnapped me. Took my phone and everything so I couldn’t contact anyone and let them know I was effectively unable to leave or even signal for help.”

“You wanted to be rescued? I thought dudes liked young, hot, rich heiresses. Your own Paris Hilton,” YuMi asks, and you can see her question holds a little…bite to it. You instantly like her.

“Hell yeah, I did not want to be there. I actually had plans that I was really excited for, but my father…he kind of ruined my night.”

“But the hot chick made it better, right? You’re gonna marry into the richest company, right?” Jimin shouts from the kitchen, cheeks ruddy from the wine. You, on the other hand, are over the topic of conversation. Moving towards the kitchen, you decide to follow Jimin’s lead and drown your sorrows.

“No way, she’s like eleven years younger than me. She’s barely old enough to drink, just finished Secondary, and we have nothing in common. Besides, I’m not attracted to her.” You can feel Seokjin’s eyes piercing into your skull, but you refuse to give him what he wants. 

Namjoon’s gift from Khaity interrupts Seokjin’s next words, as he drops the small box holding an egg vibrator and turns red as everyone begins to laugh at his reaction. Except for you. Your eyes finally look at Seokjin, challenging him to finish his thoughts from earlier as the group settles back into silence as the last few finish opening their gifts. Yoongi finally frees his gift from the box Leah wrapped it in; he holds up a black leather Valentino backpack to show everyone.

“I…actually—I’m dating someone else.”

The group instantly grows loud again, voices trying to speak over one another as various tones of disbelief, shock, and animosity filter through their accusations. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?!”

“Because, I wanted to make sure it didn’t interfere with work first, I didn’t need HR getting involved with my love life.”

“Oh?” Namjoon focuses on this tidbit of information, ears perked for more. “Do I need to worry? It’s not Ji-Soo, right?”

You sputter into your wine, but luckily the males in the living room are cackling at the accusation. 

“NO! I draw the line at sloppy thirds, thank you very much.” You try to slink away, the balcony looking like a great hiding spot when Seokjin says your name and everyone turns to you. “I brought my girlfriend and wanted to tell you all tonight.”

The group goes crazy once again at this turn of events, with Leah being the voice of reason once everyone settles. “Seokjin, I promise you, we never would have guessed…you didn’t even trade gifts with her, so color me a little shocked!”

You know Leah means to call Seokjin out and make him feel shitty, but the reminder also makes you feel a little despondent. Even if Seokjin had no intentions of marrying that girl, his current actions speak volumes. He couldn’t even be bothered to get you a gift; Kim Seokjin was not actually interested in you. 

As the group continues to pester Seokjin about how everything played out last night since he’s dating you, you take advantage of their deviated attention and head for the balcony to escape for some fresh air. You don’t really pay attention to the group behind you, but you can see shadowy movements as people get up and begin to filter out for the evening, a few of the girls coming to the balcony door to wish you a happy holiday break, their muffled voices saying jolly goodbyes.

You struggle to return their holiday spirit, and how can you, when you think about how while you’ve lost the real bet, you won the experience of having Seokjin as your boyfriend. This time with him has been…better than you ever expected. Living life with a little more color, risk, and fun, but now that the bet is over, you not only lost the shoes, but you’ve lost the taste of a different life, a fun life, with Seokjin by your side. Especially if his father demands that he marry that…child.

The sound of the glass door sliding open is quiet, but you hear it despite not turning to look. You can tell from the spicy scent of bourbon & vanilla that it’s Seokjin.

“Aren’t you cold?” he asks by way of greeting, and from the corner of your eye you see him fidgeting with a wrapped box.

“I’m used to it.”

He hums, and you sense he wants to say more. A few moments later you are proved right.

“Thank you, for the gift. It, uh…means a lot, coming from you.”

“No problem.”

He huffs, and you can’t tell if he’s annoyed at your responses or if he’s annoyed at himself.

“Look. I’m sorry.” Seokjin’s voice is sincere, and you cave for a moment, meeting his toffee eyes. “I know that I royally fucked up last night, but I meant what I said earlier. I didn’t know and I didn’t want to be there. I wanted to be with you. I tried to text you, but my father—he’s a dick, you know?” His following laugh is empty of humor. “I hope that you’ll forgive me, Kicks. Holiday spirit and all, if you feel the same way that I feel…fuck—I don’t even know what to say.”

Seokjin hands the box he’s holding to you, stepping closer. “I know according to our friends, I won, but last night…it definitely violated the rules. So while I most likely would’ve won…I know in my heart I didn’t…but I think you had fun with me these two weeks, right? It…doesn’t have to end here, you know? I think the one thing I really want to win…is you.”

His gaze is too intense, too scary and full of the hope you stuffed way down, so you focus on the gift in your hands. Pulling at the open edge of the wrapping paper, you unravel the gift wrap to reveal a marbled cream box with gold letters across the top. Your breath grows shaky as cynicism sneaks into your chest, only to be replaced with astonishment. The Saeda 100 Unicorn Printed Satin Pumps with Crystal Embellishment lay in the box, sparkling in the light filtering through the balcony windows.

“Jin,” you try to speak, but all you can say is his name.

“You deserve these, and not just because I lost on a technicality. You deserve these because you are just as magical as these fucking shoes are. You challenge me, push me to be better, and help me along the way. You believe in me more than my own father. You just,” he sighs your name softly, taking the shoes from your grasp and setting them on the outdoor table so he can hold your hands, “you see me. All of me. And if I remember correctly, you weren’t opposed to what you saw, might have even liked it.”

His light teasing, alluding to that night, has your body warming despite the December chill.

“Do you mean it?” You hate that you have to ask, but you need to know it’s real. Not just you reading into something because of false hope clouding your judgment.

“God, you are so brilliant and yet, so dense.”

Seokjin closes the remaining space between your mouths, plush lips firm as they show you how much he meant every word.

“I want to be with you. No bets, no rules, no strings. Just you.”

📈📈📈📈📈

Seokjin’s POV

The drive back to Seokjin’s place is fast; neither of you can keep your hands off of each other and he refuses to slow at yellow lights in fear that he’ll combust if he doesn’t get you naked…

The moment he has you standing in his lofted bedroom, he pauses just to take you in. Seokjin swears he never thought he could get so lucky—he always thought his fate would be similar to Hoseok’s arranged marriage, though that turned out well in the end. But someone like you? He never saw it coming.

Shrugging his shirt off of his shoulders, he lets it fall quietly to the floor, stepping closer to you. His hands feel way too hot when he places them to your cheeks, but if he’s supposed to die from a burning desire, well fuck, he guesses there isn’t a better way to go. He’s falling hard for you, and as he ducks his head to meet your lips, he lets his hands move to undress you. 

Seokjin doesn’t understand how you can be so soft, so warm, so inviting; everything about you envelops him until he’s consumed by you. Leaving you only in your underwear, he uses his hands to cup behind your thighs and lift you, carrying you to the bed.

“You look like an angel.”

Seokjin’s sheets are black, and with your white matching bra and panty set stark against the sheets, he’s in awe of you. He wants to savor you. He wants to defile you. Slowly, so slowly that you whine at him, he trails his lips along your clavicle, fingers lightly brushing your exposed sides. He pauses every so often to lave at your skin, supple beneath his tongue, before his dexterous fingers slide the straps to your bra down each arm. A quick tug frees your breasts, and his kisses continue to taunt and tease, circling but never reaching the pebbled nipple despite the arch to your back.

“Please Jin,” you beg, fingers fisting into his hair. He just chuckles at your neediness, your pleading words only adding to the pressure tenting in his pants. Trailing kisses lower down your stomach, his tongue traces the edge of your panties until he bites at the edge, making you squirm from his teeth. 

He loves that he gets to have you like this; wants you like this always, pliant and happy beneath him. Settling himself lower, his chest between your thighs, Seokjin begins to mouth at your covered core, tongue searching for the slit between your lips where your clit waits, probably throbbing for him. 

The sounds you make are pornographic, egging him on more. Wrapping his arms under your thighs, he curls his bicep so that his fingers can reach the edge of your panties. Pulling them aside, he pours his energy into leaving the sloppiest kisses around your clit and lips, strong arms not allowing you any room to pull away from the pleasure he’s delivering. Not that you’re trying to; your hands have a tight grip on his hair so you can roll your hips for maximum pleasure. 

Tonguing at your leaking core, he flicks along your opening, reaching inside you before alternating to flick your clit. He wraps his lips around it and sucks, the pressure building as you cry out for more. Like a siren's call, he can’t deny you, so he surrenders two fingers to your pulsing walls, plunging them inside rapidly as you pant, moans slipping from your lips until you cry out his name. 

He laps at you lazily as you ride your high, and when you pull back from over-stimulation, he pulls himself up along your body, flopping down to lay next to you where he can gaze upon you. You, his beautiful…girlfriend? Did you establish that? He ponders it for a minute until you call his attention. 

“Fuck, Jin…You’re a demon.”

“I’m your demon,” he responds, looking for an opening to broach the thoughts on his mind.

“Only mine, right?” 

He can hear the way your voice trembles as you ask, and he wants to kiss away any lingering doubts in your mind.

“Only yours. You’re my girlfriend, exclusively. If I’m honest, you have been since you agreed to my bet. It was only ever you.”  

“Good,” you say, and he jumps when your hand rests atop his aching cock only two layers between your skin and his.

You eye his zipper before looking back at him, eyes low and simmering with heated desire. “Can I?”

Seokjin moves quickly to shed his remaining clothing, eager to have you in a way he’s only dreamt about. You laugh at his silliness, and while he was exaggerating a little to make you laugh, part of him really feels this way. Heart-racing and giddy, because of you. 

You kneel onto the carpeted ground between his legs, waiting for him to lower himself into a sitting position on the edge of the bed. He leaves his feet planted on the floor as he strokes himself, weeping with pre-cum that aids him in sliding his palm across his silky skin.

You trade out his hand for your own, delicate touches to show how much you cherish him before you take him fully into your mouth. He can’t look away, leaning back on one hand while the other strokes your head lightly, eyes on your face as your lips work up and down his shaft, tongue tickling his frenulum. Seokjin shivers with each pass. Your mouth is so warm, wet and dripping each time you choke a little on his cock, and your eyes look so pretty lined with unshed tears. 

Fuck, Seokjin thinks he could fall in love with you fast, if you continue to look at him like that, with eyes wide as you deep throat his cock until your nose is tickled by the hair of his happy trail. Moaning as your throat convulses around his throbbing tip, light swallows squeezing the head. He almost says it when you pull off of him with a pop, just to take him deep again and add your hand to cup his balls as your dripping spit coats them to make for an easy slide through your fingers as you roll them in your palm. 

Seokjin knows his own sounds are not very manly but he doesn’t care. He wants you to know how good you make him feel, and his breathy groans are a little higher than his normal talking voice but if anything when he lets out a sound it seems to invigorate you more and—shit—“I’m gonna cum, fuck, baby—” spills from his mouth and instead of popping off him and letting him cover your beautiful tits, you hold yourself closer to him until Seokjin’s sighing out your name as he falls back onto the bed, his eyes screwed shut as fireworks shoot through his veins. 

📈📈📈📈📈

Reader POV

Returning to work after a week off is always tough; having to adjust your alarms to wake up on time, no more lazing away in bed watching Netflix or reading a new Best Seller you were gifted. No breakfast in bed after being Seokjin’s breakfast in bed—no time when you’ve overslept your alarm after a late night on Facetime with your boyfriend.

Seokjin’s out at his family’s vacation home, has been just for the weekend, where he told his parents about you and successfully avoided the marriage plans his dad attempted to trap him in. Once he gets back, there’s plans to have dinner with them—apparently his mom is excited to meet you. 

Seokjin’s entrusted his car to you while he’s been gone, saying it’s because the oil and gas shouldn’t sit and build gunk in the engine, but you have a feeling it’s because he thinks it’s sexy when you drive. And you love how the car smells like him, like bergamot and spicy vanilla—a warm hug until he returns to you.

Parking in his designated spot, you enjoy the perks of dating the CFO as you ride the elevator straight from the parking garage to your floor. It’s easy to settle back into your work routine, checking emails and reviewing reports until NaBi pops in on her way to grab food, reminding you of the time. 

“Overworking already? I thought dating the CFO meant you could relax a little.”

You laugh at NaBi’s teasing, shoulder bumping her lightly. She presses the call button for the elevator to go down to the cafe. “I can relax a little. I just miss him, so it’s easier to focus on work until he gets—Ahhhhh!” You’re happily surprised when you see a slightly tanned Seokjin appear when the elevator doors open. The other workers hanging around the Property Acquisition cubicles startle and look over, but you don’t care. 

You greet him excitedly, kissing him right there for everyone to see. Openly showing him affection, where before you would have shied away, you can feel Seokjin is receptive to this as he pulls you in closer. 

“I got us lunch,” he says between quick pecks before releasing you, and you realize he’s holding a tied plastic bag with styrofoam food trays.

“Sorry, NaBi!” 

She eyes you as if to say, ‘bitch, you lying’, but her smile shows she’s not mad at you. You have a feeling this is the perfect excuse for her to have lunch with a certain IT coworker…

Following Seokjin to his office, you hold his free hand with both of yours. “I missed you,” you muse, and he chuckles at the sappy look you give him. 

“I was only gone for the weekend,” he says with a wink as he leads you to his massive desk, “but I missed you too, so I thought I would surprise you with lunch. I’m glad I did, I get to see this version of you that I’ve always known was there.” 

His words have you furrowing your brow, tilting your head in question. 

“You know, my girlfriend, who I’m able to be goofy with, but who still maintains the same work ethic and drive that I love, just with heart eyes only for me.”

“Ew, why are you being so cheesy?” His words make your heart flutter, so of course you have to wrinkle your nose at how soft he’s making you feel. 

“Because, you know, I kind of like you. A lot.”

Seokjin gestures to the corner of his desk, and you notice that the photo frame you purchased him for Christmas sits there, ‘World’s Best Boss’ engraved in gold with a purple frame surrounding a picture of the two of you taken on the candlelit dinner cruise. The card, where you poured out some of your most heartfelt thoughts about Seokjin and how much you believe in him, lay open under the clear, protective placemat on his desk along with the photos of his fraternity days, his mom, and other notes from Namjoon, Jungkook, and Yoongi.

You feel an overwhelming emotion fill your chest, so you lean in and kiss him, unable to contain it.

“I like you a lot too, but honestly, you’re lucky to have me. Your lover, your friend, your partner in crime…in sexy ass heels.”

Seokjin laughs with his whole chest as he sees you’ve got on the shoes he gifted you, and you thank your lucky stars for whatever brought the man in front of you into your life to help you avoid the red.

↣ all rights reserved © hisunshiine 2019-2023. please do not repost. translations & modifications are not allowed.

[kimnjss]

y’all still here??? 🥲 quick little taglist check before i start posting again... lemme know if you get this/if you want to stay on my taglist!!

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[pars-ley]

Umbra (part two)

Pairing: Demon Jimin x female Angel reader

Summary: Going to a demon for help was the last thing you expected to do but when it’s your only chance to find your soul mate, you have no choice. Even when that demon was your long term rival.

Genre: Soulmate au / Fantasy au / Demons and Angels / Strangers to lovers / Drabble series / Angst / Fluff / Smut

Rating: 18+ (NSFW)

Warnings: Mentions of demons / Demon magic / Mentions of hell / Severed animals heads / Mentions of sex and sexual implications / Pervert Demon Seokjin / Mentions of scarring / Hints at previous fights

W/C: 2.7k

Beta: @sun-kore​ thank you so much for your help and your kind words.

Banner: Moodboard by me.

Taglist: @jungkooksbroski​ @hotdamnchimchim​ @clouditae​ @ggukkieland​

Notes: This one has been a really long time coming. Now that I'm getting back into the swing of writing, I'm trying to go back through my WIPS and actually finish them! I’ve already started part three of this series, so if you like the second part, please do let me know.

Staring up at the pawn shop sign, wondering how on earth you ended up here, a notorious demon's cover for his dark magic exploits, you'd never set foot in here in your wildest dreams, but desperate times call for desperate measures. So you force one foot in front of the other and make your way inside; a bell jingles as the door closes. You survey the many trinkets scattering the shelves, searching for any sign of life.

"I'll be right with you." A deep, gravelly voice sounds directly behind you. 

You spin around, but you're met with nothing but empty air. A dark chuckle sounds around you, making the hair on the back of your neck stand on end.

"Well, well, well, I must say I haven't received news that hell has frozen over." The rough voice sounds again. You turn to see him fully materialised before you, the broad-shouldered fiend himself, Seokjin.

"Believe me, I never thought I'd cross paths with you again."

He smirks and drifts towards you. "Ah yes, the last time wasn't so pleasant for me." His fingers skate across the scar that patterns his neck and creeps up his jaw. A lightning bolt of puckered skin created by you.

"But I have to admit, I am a sucker for your pretty face, and it has filled my dreams at night ever since our meeting." His fingers gently tuck your hair behind your ear, his digits managing not to touch you but still sending a sickly shiver along your spine.

"That makes you a very serious masochist." You reply, impatience forming a hot pit in your chest, threatening to erupt.

A seductive smile stretches his plump lips. "Mmmm, indeed."

"I'm here because I need your help." You add quickly, interrupting his hungry gaze that wanders across your body.

He freezes, eyes popping slightly before laughter bellows out from him. "You must be desperate if you've come to me. But, I'm sorry," he composed himself, "I find your misfortune pleases me somewhat." 

You roll your eyes. "Thanks. Now, are you going to help me or not."

"Just straight to it, no foreplay, no warm-up, nothing, um?" He looks at you, a cheeky glint in his eyes. "But I wonder, what are you willing to bargain for in exchange for my help?"

 He closes the remaining gap between you, his hand winding around your waist and pressing your body against his.

 "How far are you willing to go?"

Your smoky tendrils wrap around his wrists and ankles keeping him in place and unable to move. "I'm willing to not shop you in and let you continue practising your dark magic off the radar. That's what I'm offering." You say through gritted teeth, every fibre of your being coiled and tense, ready to spring.

He moans at your magical grip on him. "I love it when you talk dirty."

You snake extra tendrils around his throat and squeeze, cutting off his air supply. "Or I could just get rid of you myself and find another low-life demon to help me. One who will keep his hands to himself."

His reddening face manages a smile and a nod. You release him. The gasp of air he takes fills the tense silence in the room.

"Ok, ok." He says between breaths. "Can't blame a guy for trying, right?" Winking at you, his hand comes up to his neck,  massaging the red mark you've left there. He smooths his hair back and takes a breath.

 "What is it I can do to assist you?"

His face flashes behind your eyes for a moment, smooth skin, piercing eyes, and that perfect smile you got only a glimpse at. "I need to find someone."

Seokjin stares at you before waving his hand in a 'continue' motion. "I need more to go on, love."

"A demon has disappeared, and I need you to tell me where he is."

His face turns serious. "You want me to help you find one of your marks." He scoffs.

"He's not a mark. This is personal." Your eyebrows knit together, attempting to keep the desperation out of your voice.

His eyes narrow at you. "Then why? Angels don't mix with demons for the fun of it. So you expect me to believe you won't turn him in or kill him?"

You sigh and rub your temples. "You can believe what you want; nevertheless, I need this demon, but he disappeared right before me a few days ago, and I've been unable to find him."

He chuckles. "Sounds like he's not interested, dear."

"He didn't dissolve. He literally disappeared. He was right in front of me one moment; next, he was gone."

Seokjin frowns. "Now, this has piqued my interest."

He walks to the shop door, locks it, and turns the closed sign face out. 

"Come." 

He beckons you to the back of the store with a crooked finger, leading you out through a thin veil curtain. The dark green material billows around you and paves the way to a dark staircase, unnaturally so. You take hesitant steps down, your heart beating harder with every movement descending into the inky abyss.

A loud click and dim light illuminates everything in the basement and leaves enough shadows for your eyes to search for danger.

"Come and sit." He points to the large wooden table in the centre of the room.

You stop in your tracks, however, when you notice the seemingly real but very dead animals attached to various parts of the walls. They were slightly decayed, skin discoloured and disintegrating, yet there was no smell in the air or flies around. The magic aura surrounding it was an impressively powerful one. You sit on one of the chairs, fingertips grazing the scorch marks etched dark and deep into the grain of the old oak. You sift through them, running a finger over the demonic runes and curses which cover the tabletop.

"Now, demons don't just disappear." Seokjin starts, standing beside you, "and it doesn't sound like he was banished. Was there any smoke or a mark on the floor once he'd disappeared?"

You shook your head. "No, I was staring him right in the face, and it was like I blinked, and he was gone."

Seokjin watches you carefully, eyes narrowed and suspicious. Finally, he sits down, leaning back in his chair, stroking his chin with his long crooked fingers, nails black and scorched from the dark magic.

"How long have we known each other, angel? Ninety years?"

You shrug, your knee bouncing impatiently, but you force it down, clasping your knees together. "Give or take."

"Hm," he nods. "I know there is something you're not telling me. But believe me when I say I cannot help you unless you tell me everything." 

Sighing, you rub your burning, tired eyes. "Fine." Pulling your sleeve roughly and slamming your arm on the table for him to see. 

Your soul-mate mark was now a glowing white, illuminating your arm against the dark wooden backing. 

"Ah, you've found your mate; how sweet." He mocks. "And let me guess, this demon has kidnapped your new mate, and once you find him, you'll exact revenge, yada, yada, yada. Am I close?" He leans forward, resting both arms on the table. 

Your chest burns with the acid rising up from your churning stomach, unable to believe the words you are about to utter. "The demon is my mate."

It takes you a few moments in the silence that follows that statement to look at Seokjin, but when you do, his wide-eyed frozen face is almost enough to amuse you. The longer the silence stretches on, the more deafening it becomes, and with your current state of mind, you can't cope much longer.

"Seokjin, we're wasting time."

He snaps out of it, confused eyes focused on yours and mirroring your own mixed feelings in the glassy black optics. "I, um, I have some questions."

Your breath leaves in a frustrated huff.

His hands come up in a defensive position. "I'm sorry, but this is very new for me. In all my years, I've never heard of this happening… inter-species mating…permanently. Not even a whisper of it, and trust me, the things I have been privy to about our worlds, I could shock you."

"I doubt that. Not many things shock me about your world or mine anymore."

"Ah," he leans in, one perfectly pointed eyebrow sharp and raised straight for you, like an accusatory dagger. "But this little scenario did, did it not?" He stretches out and strokes his bent finger across your mark, making bile rise and anger alight your veins. 

You grab his wrist and twist it fast, but he's faster, grabbing your other wrist with his free hand and turning it hard enough that with one more movement, it would snap.

"We appear to be at a stalemate, sweetheart." 

Your teeth snap shut, an attempt to control some of your anger but also as a preventive to not let him know how much pain he's inflicting. 

"Are you going to help me or not? I don't have time for games." You spit.

He smirks, eyes fiery with lust and mistaken superiority. "Yes, I'll help. Purely now, because I have my own questions that need answering."

"Well, get in line, buster."

He laughs and releases the grip on your wrist. In return, you do the same, sitting down quickly before you change your mind about breaking some part of him. God, he'd be a dead man if you didn't need him.

"If we're going to…go all the way," he can't help the smile that tugs at one side of his mouth. "I'm going to need a little bit of trust. Can you do that?" 

You scoff. "Can you promise you won't touch me again?"

He sucks in a slow, deep breath. "I'll try my hardest, angel, but you need to give me something to think about on those nights I wake up from dreams of you." 

You feel your top lip turn up into an uncontrollable grimace. "Have I not hurt you enough today, already?"

His deep cackle vibrates through you as he strokes the wrist you just released. "With you, it would never be enough." But then he mimes, making a cross against his heart. 

"That would mean something if you had one in there." You jibe.

He holds the place on his chest where one should be, as if you've wounded him. "Ouch. Uncalled for."

Rolling your eyes, you shrug out of your jacket, sensing you are here for the long run, and ignore his eyes on your body as you do so.

"Ok, let's find this demon, shall we?" His bright smile unnerves you. "I need you to put your palms on the table, close your eyes and picture his face in your mind. Can you do that?"

You give a curt nod and do as he says, even if every fibre of your being screams against it.

The scorch markings under your palms feel strange as the sweat on your hands makes you stick to the table. You peek out of one eye at Seokjin to see him mirroring your stance, eyes wholly shut. He could almost look handsome with his usual smug face impassive…almost.

"Close your eyes." He orders, making you squeeze them shut tight and fight the smile that threatens beneath the surface.

You focus your mind and think of only him. Seems crazy to think you're bound to someone, and yet, you don't even know his name.

His face appears behind your eyelids, perfect smooth skin that practically glows. Plump lips that stretch into an exhaustingly beautiful smile and dark eyes like crescent moons. You see the way his blonde hair moves in the hint of a breeze, the curve of his Adams apple as he swallows. You're eager to reach out and touch his throat, sliding your fingers down his skin, wondering if it would feel like silk under your touch.

A noise interrupts the eerie silence, a low hum in the air. The palms of your hands start to burn as the marks on the table grow hotter, the air feeling thick and heavy around you, static, making your hair stand on end, but you ignore it, shoving it down and focusing just on the picture in your mind. 

"There you are…" you hear Seokjin whisper, so eager to open your eyes but daring not to in case the spell breaks and your chance of finding him diminishes. "What on earth?" 

"What?" You whisper, unable to contain the impatience.

Your hair falls down around your face, and the heat underneath your hands subsides, the wood feeling cold and the silence deafening once again.

"I found him." Seokjin's deep voice sounds into the quiet, barely a whisper but seeming louder than ever. 

"And?" You lean forward on the edge of the chair, waiting for his next words.

He finally meets your eyes, a sombre look deep in the onyx orbits staring back at you. "He's in hell."

You frown and shake your head. "What does that even mean?"

"I mean that very literally, love. He's in hell. That's where you'll find him." 

You stare blankly at the demon in front of you, so many questions race through your mind leaving you unable to focus on any particular one. 

How is this possible? Was he banished by someone? How can you get him? An angel in hell is almost unheard of…not since…

"You want my suggestion?" Seokjin breaks your wild thoughts. "If it was me? I'd leave him there, life-mate or not."

You push away from the table, ready to leave, not wanting to hear anything that won't help you.

"But…" he continues, and something in his voice makes your feet stop, wanting to hear his following words. "I know you won't be able to do that, so...I'll help you."

You turn, eyes narrowed suspiciously. "For a price?"

He smiles, "everything has a price sweetheart."

"Name it."

He stands and strides slowly toward you. Your body tense, ready to run or fight, a natural instinct you can't unlearn. His hand comes up to your face, hesitating for a moment, searching your eyes for permission. Then, for a moment, he seems to soften, his eyes almost pleading before his nonchalant mask returns, and his hand drops without touching you.

"You leave me and my shop alone for good." 

You breathe a sigh of relief. Of course, that would be what he wants. And that you could give him.

"And when I say you, I mean all of you." 

Now that is a little harder; there’s a long list of angels and other species who hunt delinquents, some for work and some for sport. Getting the other angels to Ignore his dealings would be a hard sell, but maybe his helping of an angel return safely from the depths of hell could work in his favour.

"Provided we return safely?" You press.

He nods, his eyes wild like a cat preparing to pounce on a mouse.

"Deal."

You put your hand out, and he eagerly takes it, lifting it to his mouth and inhaling your scent deeply. He moans, the sound turning your stomach but annoyance overrides it. When you feel his lips touch your skin, you snatch your hand away and storm up the basement stairs.

"What, no ‘thank you’?" He calls out.

"Thanks." You mumble as you slam the basement door shut.

You feel his breath against your ear, knowing full well if you turned, he wouldn't be there. "Be here tomorrow at two am." 

The shiver it sends down your spine makes your feet move faster to leave the building, and as soon as that door closes behind you, you finally feel like you can breathe again.

You absentmindedly rub the back of your hand; an irritation persists, and when you look down, to see a dark mark where his lips touched the skin, all around it red and sore. The sight makes you want to race back in there and rip those lips right off his face, but the sound of his laughter from inside, knowing he's watching you still, made you want to get away as soon as possible. You stick your middle finger up and march in the direction of home. 

[writemywaytoyourheart]

Here is the masterlist for AFTH drabbles <3 have fun lovelies

💗-fluff 🔥-suggestive 🌧-angst 🤪-crack

1. wedding plans (💗)

2. the big day (💗)

3. honeymoon (💗🔥)

4. ...

more to come ;)

-

p.s: I am always taking requests for what you want to see with our afth couple 💕

Pls let me know if you want to be added/removed from the tag list.

Current tag list;

@hopekookies ​ @moonchild1​ @barbellastyles98 ​ @teresaisla ​​ @ggukkieland ​ @scuzmunkie ​​​ @jaebeomsblackgf @sugaslittlekookies ​​​ @moon-asia ​​ @bangtannie7​​​​ @yoonchrisgull ​​​ @njkbangtan @dlwrlmajaykay ​​​ @higashikatasgf ​​​ @sweetonkookieandtae @voidswan-recs ​​​ @sadxaries ​​​ @shadowmoon21 ​​​ @jinfused ​​​ @taehyungiev13 ​​​ @gaeguuliii ​​ @kimnamjoonluvbot ​​ @jungkooook @mutterseelenalleinn​​​ @surilirani @patpus​​​​ @yukiehyukie ​​​ @crypticsabbat @ohyeahjk​​​​ @steffiiirose @the-falling-star​​​​ @telepathytae ​​ @erenkook-blog ​​​ @rosiekoo​​​​ @neverthefirstchoice ​​​ @bubbless-world ​​​ @yeow6n ​​​@purpleunicorn051 ​​​ @canarystwin ​@sopikooo @kookxin @babyboo22 @ninisfairy

[back2bluesidex]

Can u recommend any , breakup , divorce and argument kind of fics with angst ( preferably happy ending ) 💞💞💞💞 i guess u r expert in the angsty field hope I can get some 😁😁😁

Oh god! break up and divorce are two of my most favorite tropes! and I have a whole fic rec list for you (not by me but by an expert).

You can find some of the angstiest divorce stories in this Marriage on the rocks rec list by @ggukkieland! ENJOYYY!!!!

[americanobts]

Rosie aka @ggukkieland / @ggukkiereads is an absolute gem in this community. Rosie is always kind, always thoughtful and is a friggin’ wizard when it comes to helping others find long-lost fics. We stan Rosie in this house, okay? 🥰🥰🥰

💜

[muniimyg]

1: the confession // series m.list

note: been daydreaming abt this jk... enj <3

taglist request: send a request with the title of this fic “aao” // DO NOT comment here or on the masterlist . it gets confusing and i prefer answering and tagging through asks !!!

🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @taetaecatboy @pb-n-juju @miss-rainy-days @firesighgirl @whoa-jo @vantxx95 @pamzn @kakixaku @casspirit0705 @tae165 @defzcl @sopebubbles @leefics @ggukkieland @bebebutbetter @yoongimentita7 @boraength @era-genius @4ksj @vampcharxter @miss-jupiter @floweryjeons @taegijns @jeonqkooks-main @ellesalazar @jkslvsnella @thekookiecorner @parkinglot-nights @seagulljk

fic taglist: @peterstarkchrishiddleston

//

The library is your favourite place. 

At least, that is until your predictable love for it comes to a disadvantage. May your tranquil moments alone rest in peace as your friends corner and gaslight you to leaving your sanctuary. Sometimes, it’s for parties. Other times, it’s for something stupid like driving to the next town to watch a movie at their theatre because their theatre chairs recline better. 

You won’t have it this time. 

No way. You have so much work to do!

"Oh, come on! Please, ___?” Hobi begs. “Come tonight! It'll be fun!" Suddenly, he’s clinging to your arm, making it harder for you to ignore him. You try shaking him off, but he pouts at you and clings on even tighter. 

“Hobi,” you whine. “Go to the party if you wanna go. Jimin said he’d meet you there! And Nam Joon, and Taehyung, Jin, and even Yoongi!” 

“But I want you to come!” He cries. “I need someone to keep count of my drinks—”

“Use a marker and tally it on your arm.”

“But then what if I need to throw up—”

“Then throw up.”

“... Jungkook will be there!”

You blink at him. 

“So?”

Hobi lets go of your arm and raises a brow at you. “What do you mean so? Isn't he your boyfriend?”

His accusation has you tongue-tied. This is the first time you’ve ever heard such an absurd thing! Jungkook became a part of the friendgroup after you. He’s the newbie. Actually, he has a whole other set of friends aside from you guys. Why? Because he’s cool. That’s it. Everyone on campus knows him and truth be told; he deserves his hype. He’s good-looking, kind, and a little weird (in a good way). He’s funny and smart (but not in an obnoxious way)... He’s just… Kind of good at everything? It intimidates you and often leaves you daydreaming. 

Come to think of it, everything happens by coincidence. Yours and his lectures usually start and end around the same time. Not to mention that he also loves the library! He usually walks you home after your study sessions. But, yeah… Aside from these things—you and Jungkook aren’t actually that close.

“W-what? I’m not dating Jungkook! Doesn’t he have a girlfriend?” you ask, careful not to sound too noisy. 

Hobi shakes his head. “Girlfriend? Yeah… You.”

Your eyes widen.

In a panic, you hiss at Hobi. “Don’t start rumours! That’s embarrassing for him to be associated with me—”

“Oh shut up,” Hobi laughs. “Do not get all insecure and pick me when the campus crush has literally been drooling over the past few weeks. Everybody knows. Everybody talks about it! Besides, they talk about him being all lovestruck—not you! So, spill it. What did you do, huh? Did you manifest it or some shit—”

“With all the time I spend in class, work, and the library… You think I have time to manifest?” you chuckle at him, ultimately trying to dismiss his suspicion. 

Hobi rolls his eyes at you. 

“For someone who reads fanfics and book loads of romance stories… You’re dense as fuck.”

Tilting your head at him, you try to find the words to defend yourself and fail. 

He’s right. 

You are dense. 

But that never hurt anyone before… So why does it matter?

“Earth to ___?” Hobi waves his hands to your face. You blink, brushing your thoughts away. Offering him a tired smile, he looks at you weirdly. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you exhale. “Why?”

“You’re blushing like crazy,” he teases, poking your cheek. Your hands fly to your cheeks. He’s right. They feel warm and the sudden embarrassment just made you feel even more flustered. Then, he nudges you. 

“Get it together!” Hobi mutters, “Your boyfriend is coming!"

Turning your head, you see Jungkook making his way through the doors. He has his backpack on one shoulder and his eyes glued to his phone. Like muscle memory, he turns his heels and walks toward your direction. 

“Oh my god,” you hit Hobi’s arm. “Why did you plant these thoughts when he’s literally—”

“Plant thoughts? Babes, it’s reality. Helllooooo?” Hobi sings, tauntingly. 

You pout at him, unable to take this lighthearted. 

Then, before you know it, Jungkook approaches you. 

He pulls the seat next to you out and settles in. After offering a fist bump to Hobi, he quickly leans his body over and places his hand on your knee. He’s always done this but why was it suddenly so different now? Was it always like this and you never noticed until now? Until Hobi…

Wow… 

“Hey, you.” Jungkook greets you warmly.

“... H-hi.”

He gives you a weird look. You avoid his eyes in return. Clearing his throat, he asks, “Why aren’t you packed up yet? Aren't we going to the party?”

Jungkook eyes your spread of notes on the table. You clunch your iPad closer to you and shrug. “We? It’s you. Aren’t you going to the party?”

Jungkook returns your question with a grin. “No. Us. You, specifically. You, especially.”

“Yeah, ___!” Hobi chimes cheekily. “Aren’t you going to the party?”

Hesitantly, you shake your head. 

“N-no… I have too much work to do. Here! I’ll just—” you pause your sentence and reach for Hobi’s arm. Pushing his sleeve up, you take the sharpie from your pencil case and write on his arm. 

If piss drunk, please return to ___. 

(xxx) xxx-xxxx <3

Hobi reads it sideways and yanks his arm back. 

“I hate you,” he utters. With laser eyes, he glares at Jungkook. “Tell her you’re coming to the party. Drag her to come! She’s always here! Homework can wait for tomorrow!”

Jungkook exchanges looks with you. With a soft gaze, he shrugs and turns to Hobi. 

“She doesn’t wanna go.”

Hobi groans. 

“Fine. Let’s go. Let’s leave—”

“I’m staying,” Jungkook says calmly. "She's not going... Neither am I."

He picks his backpack up from the ground and begins to unzip it. Taking out his notes and laptop, he looks up and smiles at Hobi. “Can I see your arm?”

Huffing, Hobi shows Jungkook your note. As Hobi rambles on and on about how you and Jungkook are party poopers, Jungkook takes your Sharpie and crosses your number out. 

If piss drunk, please return to ___. Jungkook

(xxx) xxx-xxxx <3

(xxx) xxx-xxxx

For the second time tonight, Hobi reads his arm sideways and yanks it back. He squints at the unfamiliar number. 

“Why’d you cross her number out? Whose number is this?” Hobi asks. 

“Mine,” Jungkook states, smiling at the correction. “Call me if you need anything.”

“What? Why?”

Jungkook blinks. “I’m not really crazy about ___’s number being on your arm for other guys to have and call her with.”

Hobi’s mouth drops. He slowly turns to you and gulps. Blinking at you slowly, he gives you crazy eyes. “You can not be this dense, ___. Jungkook is literally ripping me into shreds in his head right now—”

You laugh.

“Go. Have fun! Call me if you need anything.”

Hobi turns to Jungkook. 

Jungkook smiles at him sweetly with his eyes closed. He shakes his head slowly and wiggles his finger at him. “Don’t call her.”

With that, Hobi grumbles a few exchanges before packing his stuff up. He waves goodbye and tells you that you’re lame one last time. You agree with him and wave him goodbye. As he leaves, Jungkook moves his chair closer to you. 

“So… Same schedule? Study until 9PM and then I walk you home? Or are you hungry tonight? Maybe we can wrap this up by 7:30PM and grab a bite to eat? I know a really good burger spot just up campus—why’d you do that?”

Your body stiffens.

“Do what?”

Jungkook eyes your chair distance. 

“You moved away.”

What the heck… How did he even notice? It’s not like you moved across the table! You just moved like… Half an inch. 

“No, I didn’t,” you deny. “But yeah… Sure! I’ve been craving a good burger with extra cheese—what are you doing?”

“I’m moving closer to you.”

“Why?”

“Because you lied to my face and moved away.”

“N-no!” 

Jungkook inches his face closer to yours. He boops your nose and scrunches his. “You sniff whenever you lie. Did you know that?”

“N-no…”

“Now you do.”

For the first time ever… You lose your breath. It’s like you forgot how to breathe. He’s so close to you. His eyes are so doey, you’re literally getting lost in them. The scar he has on his left cheek… You can see it so clearly—the detail of how his skin healed and all. His hair is brushing above his eyebrows and you can’t help but realize how much you like the way it falls on his face. He’s… Cute?

Oh god. 

“D-dont do that—uhh—” You move away from him. This time, there’s an obvious space between you two. Jungkook straightens his posture, completely confused by your burst of emotion. It’s… Conflicting? He swears you two were about to kiss… Now, what’s going on?

“___? What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks with a gentle tone. 

You turn away and shove your notes to your face. Mumbling into the paper, you tell him what’s on your mind. “Everyone thinks you have a crush on me and it’s embarrassing.”

Jungkook doesn’t hear you well. 

“Say that again,” he requests. Without warning, he takes the paper from your hands, leaving you to face him. “Don’t act all cute. What is it?”

You stay silent and contemplate.

Was this worth saying? Was this worth addressing? Would it change anything between you two after? What about the burgers? You’ve been craving a cheesy burger like crazy—

“It’s fine if you don’t feel comfortable. You can tell me later or never. I don’t mean to be pushy—”

Then, you blurt it out. 

“Everyone thinks you have a crush on me… Or something.” 

Jungkook doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t hold his breath. 

He doesn’t deny it. 

“I do have a crush on you.”

Your throat feels dry. What?! Has he lost his mind?

“W-what? You can’t j-just—”

Jungkook tilts his head and pouts. 

“I don’t really understand why I should deny it. Why should I lie? Why should I make an excuse? This is how I feel. You just found out earlier than the confession… I guess this is it though, right?” He laughs. 

You hit his chest. 

“This isn’t funny!”

“Why can’t it be funny?” Jungkook laughs even harder. He catches your wrist and holds you still. “Doesn’t it make you laugh? That everybody on campus watched me wait outside your classes every day for almost 3 months… That everybody waits on me to go to parties but I don’t show up because I rather walk you home and stay home… That everybody on campus watched me enter this goddamn library of a snoozefest—”

“Hey! I like it here.”

“Yeah,” he rolls his eyes at you. “I like you. That’s why I’m here.”

“I… I thought you wanted to study.”

Jungkook laughs even louder, earning a few hushes from others nearby. He groans, throwing his head back. “I can’t even fucking laugh in here without getting in trouble. Why the hell would I like this place?”

“... To study!”

“To be with you.” 

You shut up. 

No words, no thoughts, no feelings. 

Okay…

Feelings. Lots of them. 

“I don’t understand why you’re so overwhelmed,” Jungkook murmurs, leaning his head against your shoulders. “I thought you knew. I thought you figured it out by now. I wasn't exactly discrete."

You sit still, not knowing if you should move or let him settle in. Before you can decide, he sits himself up and grabs your hand. He squeezes it tightly and brings it to his lips. Kissing your hand, he looks at you. 

“Doesn’t matter if you’re dense. Doesn’t matter if you don’t know how you feel right now. I’ll win you over… You’ll fold."

You yank your hand away from him. In response, he leans over and kisses the side of your head instead. You gasp, but your cheeks blush. Quickly, you cover your face with your hands. He laughs heartily, tugging you close to him. You bury your face in his chest and groan at the sinking feeling of wanting to be anywhere but here. This was humiliating!

And just when you think it can't get any worse, Jungkook wraps his arms around you and hugs you tight. As he pats your back, he murmurs—

"You're falling for me already, aren't you?"

[magicshopaholic]

Another World

Summary: Jungkook finds himself going down a path he never intended - and his best friend might just be collateral damage.

Pairing: Jungkook x OC, Taehyung x OC

Genre: Angst

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 7.7 K

Warnings: none

A/N: Whew. This required some research. A disclaimer for any gaming fans out there: the kind of liberties I have taken with the video games described in this fic cannot be overstated. Think Troy butchering The Illiad source material (but with good plot anyway). Set over a period of a couple of months, starting a month after Los Angeles pt. 2)

Tagging: @bbl32 @ggukkieland @bangtannoonalvg @pb-n-juju @juciu @jeoncookie-bts @quarter-life-crisis2 @dreaming-with-happiness @meirkive  @faearchives @margopinkerton @sumzysworld @purpleseoul7 @kflixnet (italics cannot be tagged. If you want to be added to the taglist, drop a comment or ask)

Listen to: "layla" by eric clapton

taehyung masterlist | jungkook masterlist | main masterlist

Jungkook liked gaming. He liked how immersive it was, how fast it was, how much it required him to get into character and beat the bad guys. Most of all, Jungkook liked to win. Video games were winnable, for the most part. Whether it was rules, strategy or just plain speed, gaming was about beating the bad guys and winning the game.

It may have been due to this reason that all the games he owned and played broadly followed this narrative: hero, quests, bad guys, save the world, win. When he and Dilara moved away from FIFA and Real Racing (both extremely winnable games), this was how Jungkook had introduced her to his collection and invited her to play Mortal Kombat. 

Dilara hadn’t been super impressed, although she’d played without fuss. She was in London and he was in Seoul, the night beginning for her and for him, the dawn nearing. They played together, shooting, jumping, killing, running. Winning. She’d played with supreme focus (he could see her on the video at the bottom of the screen). Her eyes were trained on the screen, slight frown on her forehead that remind him ostensibly of Taehyung, her fingers moving rapidly on the console, not uttering a single word except at the beginning of the game: save the cheerleader, save the world.

Jungkook hadn’t got the reference, but she’d said it wryly, as though it was a joke only some people were meant to get. Still, she played with him and four hours later, when they were less than halfway done, she’d sat back in her chair and raised her arms over her head, stretching.

“Don’t get lazy,” he’d commanded, still in the zone. He’d tapped his headset. “We still have so many levels to complete.”

“JK,” she’d sighed. It must have been hot in London; her neck and chest were shining in the fluorescent light from the screen. She swept her long hair up into a bun and her tank top rode up slightly, suddenly revealing how tight it was.

Jungkook had looked away out of habit. It never did well to check out your friends’ girlfriends. 

“Don’t you need to sleep? Isn’t it morning for you?”

It was - but Jungkook had the day off. He told her as much but she told him she had to sleep. 

“In the middle of the game?” He was aghast. “How can you do that?”

She’d wrinkled her nose. “It’s not a cliffhanger. We can just pick it back up tomorrow. The next levels will be the same. Just shoot ‘em all.” She made a finger gun and pointed it at him before dropping her hand. “There’s no story. All the characters are just… graphic. There’s no emotion, no empathy, no… passion to save the world.”

He’d stared. “It’s saving the world. You need passion to do that?”

Dilara had chuckled tiredly. “Even guns and explosions can have a compelling story. Have you ever played Yakuza?”

Of course Jungkook had played Yakuza. It wasn’t bad, but it had been a lot of information to keep track of. Too many characters, too many plots. He’d played until he’d won, but only because it would’ve killed him not to.

“I have to be at the factory at eight am. I’m going to bed.” She’d pushed back her chair and stood up, and the screen filled for a moment with her chiselled torso, hips, and tan thighs from under her shorts. This time, it took Jungkook a moment longer to look away.

He’d bid her goodnight with a bit of half-hearted whining until she promised to resume play the next day. Once she’d logged off, Jungkook switched back to his screen and took a sip of his Americano, debating continuing without her anyway.

A moment later, he’d sighed and switched off the game, heading to bed.

—

The day Jungkook realised he wasn’t cut out for elaborate, story-telling games was the day he played A Way Out with Dilara.

She had told him about it in passing, mentioning that she’d also only played it once, years ago, before life had got in the way. Jungkook had been about to shut it down with glee right then but she’d seemed so mournful about never playing it again that he’d relented and bought the game, sending her an invite to login as well.

“It’s like I’m sixteen again,” she sniffed dramatically, making herself comfortable on her chair. The Red Bull logo on her oversized t-shirt came into full focus for a moment while she adjusted her camera, and Jungkook grinned in satisfaction.

“Well, you wouldn’t shut up about it so you basically forced me to buy it.”

“You know what? Even if that’s true, it’s going to be so worth it. This is the best game, JK,” she added, her face shining. “Emotional connections, moral conundrums, deep friendships…” She sighed and shook her head in wonder. “Just the best,” she repeated.

Jungkook raised his eyebrows at this display but said nothing. “Shall we start?” he asked.

“Yes. Okay, now, don’t worry about not getting the game initially,” she informed him. “I haven’t played it in forever either and I’m sure with the updates and everything, it’ll practically be a different game.

This, Jungkook supposed, was in response to a rather childish moment he’d had a couple of weeks prior where, amidst his inability to grasp the concept of the game, he’d sort of shrieked, yanked off his headphones and proceeded throw himself on the bed in the gaming room, face down for several minutes while Dilara called his name in irritation.

He scowled. “I’ll be fine. Will you?”

Dilara grinned sheepishly; she didn’t take well to losing either. “I’ll be okay. I’m Vince and you’re Leo?”

They commenced the game then. The story read more like a movie than a video game; Jungkook watched in awe as their characters, both in prison and holding a grudge against the same mobster, formed a begrudging alliance and escaped.

It was a gorgeous game; the screen, the special effects, the dialogue - he and Dilara read them out as quickly as possible, eager to move through the game.

“Oh, my God,” muttered Jungkook after a while, shaking his head slowly as Leo and Vincent, on the run from the law, made a campfire in the dead of night. “That’s why Vincent hates Harvey, too?”

“Harvey was an arsehole,” said Dilara with feeling. “There’s a reason Vincent wanted to partner with Leo, even if it meant he risked getting caught. There’s nothing like common hatred of a person to bring two people together.”

Jungkook stole a glance at her, which she caught. 

“What?” she asked, chuckling and looking a bit embarrassed. “That’s the fun of these games. You have to really get into it.”

He smiled without meaning to. “I get it. He killed Vincent’s brother. Vincent gets to hate him.”

“Shut up. Ooh, look, it’s Leo’s story now.” They started reading the dialogue boxes together, Jungkook reading them out in slightly accented English, when a sound cut through the soft soundtrack.

“Helicopter!” Dilara yells. “It’s the cops! Okay, go left!”

“No, I think it’s right!” The screen changed as both characters ran through the wilderness, the animated figures running faster than Jungkook could ever hope to. “Okay, we have to get into that house, I think.”

Their characters took shelter in a hut, evading the police, and looting the place for clothes, weapons and a truck.

“It’s a car chase!” Jungkook exclaimed. “You should drive!”

“You know it’s not a real truck, right?” she called out, but still manoeuvring Vincent into the driver’s seat. “Okay, let’s go! Seatbelt on!”

“I thought you said it wasn’t real!”

“I didn’t stutter, JK!”

Jungkook snorted before getting back into character, his heart racing; if the cops caught them, they were back in prison, meaning the game was over.

“Cliff!”

“Get out of the car! There’s a rowboat! And go from behind the trees!” she added as the sounds of the police’s gunshots got louder. They hopped into a conveniently placed rowboat by the banks of a thrashing river and began steering with their controllers.

“Is that a - is that a waterfall?”

“Jump!”

“What?” Jungkook’s eyes widened in a panic. “We don’t have life jackets!”

“It’s not a real river, JK!” Dilara yelled as she threw her character into the water, escaping a gunshot by a nanosecond. “Leo knows how to swim!”

Feeling his ears get hot, Jungkook obeyed and Leo jumped. The two characters somehow made it through the river and landed on the other side, the police finally no longer in sight.

“Whew.” Jungkook exhaled and takes off his headphones for a moment, shaking his hair out of his eyes. He put them back on to see Dilara grinning in the pop out screen.

“Great game, huh?”

“Holy shit. This is what you meant by emotional connection?” When she nodded, he shook his head. “Crazy. Oh, wait - Leo’s story.” He read the dialogue again, his own tone sounding more and more surprised. “Harvey betrayed Leo, too? What a jerk!”

“Villians,” was all Dilara said by way of explanation. “Oh, look! Aww…”

Jungkook followed an instruction to call home with a nearby telephone. “Leo has a wife and kid? What is this game?” he exclaimed. “This is like - like something that should be in the Oscars! Where are the machine guns and the aliens?” 

“I can see your eyes tearing up, Jeon, so don’t give me that.”

He didn’t even bother defending himself; he was more engrossed in this fully human story than he ever had been in a video game before. He glanced at Dilara again, his stomach settling comfortably when he realised he wasn’t alone.

It was a flurry of activity after that: purchasing arms, being betrayed by the arms dealer, getting in touch with a mysterious pilot from Vincent’s past who offered to fly them to Mexico to escape. The pilot also dropped another bombshell.

“Vincent has a kid?”

“Vincent is having a kid,” she corrected him. “Okay, we have an option to go to the hospital. We’re going, right? No way is Vincent abandoning his daughter before she’s even born.”

“He’s not abandoning - okay, sure,” he said quickly, catching Dilara’s surprisingly troubled expression. “It could be a trap, though.”

But Dilara ignored him, and both characters headed to the hospital. Warning bells instantly went on in Jungkook;s head, for he’d played enough video games to know what a calm spell looked like before they got attacked. But he followed Dilara until Vincent met his newborn baby girl, Julie.

“I’ve never made it this far in this game,” murmured Dilara, her voice wobbling slightly. Jungkook couldn’t help but feel like this was a slight overreaction over an animated baby, but something stopped him from commenting on it. 

“Gwaenchanha?” he ventured, but at that moment, a pop-up appeared on the screen, informing them that the police had surrounded the hospital.

“Told you!” Jungkook exclaimed, but his heart raced with excitement. What a game. 

“I’m not sorry!” she replied as they rushed out of the hospital. “I swear to God, JK, if you and Tae are ever running from the police and I’m in the hospital giving birth to his kid, you better make sure he’s there!”

“Er, sure thing,” he assured her, before changing the subject. “Okay, we have to split up.” With no indication either way, he went right while Vincent went left. He avoided the police as best he could while continuously keeping an eye on the split screen to see Dilara’s progress as well. 

She escaped; Jungkook breathed a sigh of relief and took his eyes off his own screen for a moment too long to see Dilara pump her fist in the air - long enough to get captured.

“Shit!” He’d lost the game - swallowing his disappointment, for Dilara hadn’t yet, he urged her to continue. “Go! Keep going!”

“I can’t,” she muttered determinedly, turning Vincent around and going back into the hospital with his gun loaded. “We’re in this together, mate - if you lose, we both lose.”

Despite the tension, Jungkook felt his stomach flip in excitement: he loved playing with Dilara. She was competitive, she took risks and she was good at gaming. It had been a long time since he’d met someone who matched this well with him online; it was no surprise that he constantly looked forward to their next session.

“Okay, hold still -” Dilara frowned in concentration, aiming her gun - only two bullets left - at the cop who had Leo in a headlock. Her thumb swiped over the controller ever so slightly and shot the cop straight in the head.

“You saved me!” Jungkook gasped, immediately spurring his character on and out of that damn hospital.

“Don’t sound so shocked,” she muttered, although she looked relieved as well, a grin flashing across her face.

They escaped after that, taking up the pilot’s offer to take them to Mexico, where they were ambushed by the mobster Harvey and his men. There was the old school gaming face-off: guns, fire, jumping off buildings and eliminating NPCs left and right.

“Oh, my God,” said Jungkook in surprise. “We did it. We killed Harvey.” He looked up hopefully at Dilara. “Is that it? Does that mean we win?”

“I don’t know…” The game told them that now that Harvey was dead, they could return to the US but the moment they did, they were surrounded by the police again. “Oh, no…”

“No! Come on!” Jungkook whined, frustrated now, but something was wrong. He frowned as one of the policemen, took the gem they had stolen from Harvey from Leo’s hand and handed it to Vincent… along with his gun.

“Oh, no…”

“Wait…” Jungkook frowned. “Why did the cop just -” He squinted at the screen to read the dialogue box, even though Dilara was reading it out loud. “Is - is Vincent a cop?” His eyes darted to Dilara’s picture in the pop-out. “Are you undercover?”

“Shit, I had no idea,” she murmured. “I told you I’d never reached this far in the game before.” 

His stomach churned. We’re in this together, she’d said. “I’m supposed to take you hostage now,” he stated, reading the instructions. Before she could shrug in acceptance, he subdued her and ran. It ensued in a chase again, but this time between Leo and Vincent, with Leo trying to run and Vincent trying to catch him.

It’s not real. Jungkook knew, he knew Dilara knew, and he knew the game was set up to be a certain way for the story. But it still stung, being betrayed, and before he knew it, he was being chased into a warehouse by Dilara, both of them injured and losing energy.

“Some game, Komyshan,” he muttered, sighing. He didn’t know how long they’d been playing; bonding over their shared hatred of Harvey felt like hours ago, as did each of them discovering they had kids. He chanced another look at Dilara on the pop–out and paused.

Her eyes were wet, tear tracks down her cheeks. He started, suddenly wondering if her sixteen-year-old self knew that she would have to betray her ally like this.

They climbed up the warehouse and onto the roof, both their energy packs beeping to indicate they were running out. There were their guns, bright and clear. This, Jungkook knew, was the end. One of them got the gun and shot the other, and the other died at the hands of a one-time ally.

She was still crying, even as her fingers flew over the buttons on the controller. Jungkook watched, as though in slow motion, as Vincent on screen dove for the gun and pointed it at Leo, shooting him, ending the game.

“What - what did you do?” Dilara frowned, looking taken aback. “You didn’t even go for your gun. Did - did you let me win?” she demanded, sounding horrified.

“No!” But didn’t he, though? Jungkook couldn’t tell. “I - I didn’t see the gun,” he explained weakly. He fell silent as the epilogue appeared on screen. 

“Vincent tells Linda about Leo’s death…” she read out, swallowing, “... and goes back to his wife and newborn daughter.” Dilara blinked rapidly.

“That’s a happy ending, right?” Jungkook murmured. “He didn’t have to abandon his daughter.”

Dilara was quiet for a moment. Then she chuckled softly, without humour, not looking away from the screen. “Jesus Christ, JK,” she sighed. “It’s not real. It's just a game.”

Jungkook nodded but it didn’t matter. He hadn’t seen Dilara ever break down in front of him like that, even though she’d held it together reasonably well. It stayed in his mind even as he went to bed at dawn, the image of her biting her lip while her eyes swam with tears at a fictional character leaving his wife and newborn at the hospital, and he privately came to a conclusion: he was not cut out for story-telling games. 

—

The worst loss Jungkook had ever faced in a video game was the night he invited Taehyung to play. 

He didn’t truthfully know what he’d been expecting when he’d invited the older member to join. All he remembered was that years before Dilara entered their lives, Taehyung had been the person who stayed up with him into the wee hours of the night when they were crippled with jet lag and played video games all night.

But it didn’t feel the same. Even the way the plan came to life felt… off. They were in a supermarket in Seoul, during a serendipitous week where their tour schedule and Dilara’s F1 calendar had somehow coincided to have all of them in the same location. A get-together had been planned which Hoseok had volunteered to host, with all seven members, Seokjin’s girlfriend Seulgi, Sooah, Chaeyoung and Dilara in attendance. All the members had been delegated by Namjoon, who seemed to be making a huge effort to gather everyone together, to bring different accompaniments for the night; in the gigantic mall, five out of seven members roamed around trying to fulfil their duties. 

Taehyung, Jungkook and Dilara had been dispatched to purchase liquor and mixers. On their way to the store, Taehyung bumped into a friend and, after fondly introducing Dilara as his girlfriend, encouraged her and Jungkook to go on without him.

“How are you balancing this thing?” Jungkook asked tightly, as he tried to keep the cart he was standing from bumping into any of the aisles.

“It’s called steering,” she said knowledgeably, her much smaller frame somehow managing to manoeuvre the cart with ease, almost as if she were riding a manual scooter.

“Race you to the end?” 

She grinned as they positioned their carts next to each other. “Remember, we buy what we break.”

“Good thing we can both afford it.” Jungkook winked at her, half-heartedly dodging her playful kick to his shin. “Ready?”

“Go!” 

They were careful to keep quiet and not attract attention, staying at the back of the store where they were the only customers. They stifled their giggles while trying to maintain their balance and simultaneously sabotage the other. 

“Careful, Lara,” he called to her as her cart wobbled slightly.

“Oi, you don’t get to call me that,” she admonished him, wincing and straightening her cart. “Something’s wrong with this cart, ugh…”

“Oh, yeah? Brake failure?” he taunted her. “You can’t blame everything on your engineers, you know?”

Dilara gasped as she turned her cart at the last minute to avoid hitting a standalone shelf of bottles. “How dare you, Jeon Jungkook. I’m going to kill -” She gasped again, out of his sight this time, followed by a soft oof! from someone else. Just as Jungkook spurred his cart on to make sure she hadn’t hurt herself, he heard the giggles - both of them.

“You’re not allowed to do that in here,” he heard Taehyung’s deep voice, and his heart sank unexpectedly. “You could be arrested for that, you know?”

Jungkook appeared just in time to see Taehyung tugging Dilara backwards to him, gripping both her wrists loosely in one hand. His head was tilted towards the side of her face while she smiled in a way that made Jungkook feel as though he’d walked in on something extremely private.

Fortunately, she caught sight of him and stepped away from Taehyung, albeit still staying close. “Alright, don’t we have stuff to buy?” she asked, changing the subject. “Who has the list?”

Jungkook and Taehyung both opened the group chat to check the list compiled in it, naming different liquors out of order. “Why don’t we split up?” Dilara suggested. “I’ll go to the wine section,” she volunteered, waving at both of them and disappearing behind the aisle, leaving both boys to scan the hard liquors.

“Whiskey, obviously,” stated Taehyung, picking up a bottle of Glen Fiddich and checking the price. “Probably the first bottle Hobi hyung will ever have in his house.”

Jungkook forced a chuckle. “True. I don’t think I’ll be able to stay long enough to see him at that stage of the night, though.”

“Oh, yeah? Got plans?” He raised his eyebrows mock-seriously. “Hot date tonight?”

Yeah, but it’s with your girlfriend. It was only a moment later when he looked up to see Taehyung frowning slightly at him that he realised he’d said the words out loud. “No, I just meant -” He let out another choked laugh, his heart jolting in panic. “We - well, she wanted to game tonight. We don’t have a schedule tomorrow, so…” He cleared his throat.

Taehyung paused for a moment, but then simply nodded. “I meant to ask you, Jungkook,” he said after a moment, now examining another bottle. “Is everything okay?”

“I - how do you mean?”

“I mean, like with you and me. Are you mad at me or something?”

Jungkook’s eyes widened. “N-no. Not at all. Why would you think that?”

Taehyung shrugged. “You’ve been a little short with me the last couple of days,” he remarked casually. “Did I do something?”

He shook his head, lost for words, for this was getting seriously out of hand. What was wrong with him? The tiredness from the tour was bound to catch up sometime but were his moods that erratic, that Taehyung could have  misinterpreted them for hostility?

“No, you didn’t,” he answered honestly. “I’m just tired, I swear,” he added, throwing an arm around Taehyung’s shoulders and squeezing them. “Sorry, hyung.”

Taehyung nodded, seemingly a little surprised at this reaction. “Oh, don’t worry about it. Get some sleep tonight, maybe.”

“We’re gaming tonight, though,” he answered apologetically. “You know, you should join us,” he suggested, still reeling in the mild panic that Taehyung might think he was angry with him. “We used to game all the time, before. It’s been ages since we’ve done that.”

Taehyung raised his eyebrows, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Are you sure? Wait, do I still need to let you win?”

Jungkook scoffed, hugely relieved. “Don’t worry, Dilara has beaten me more than once so losing isn’t as shocking as it was before.”

Taehyung grinned and was about to respond when Hoseok appeared out of nowhere, looking distinctly unamused.

“Wasting time, are we?” Before either of them could respond, he slapped Jungkook lightly on the shoulder. “You - go get the beer. And you - wine. Now. Now,” he repeated when Taehyung opened his mouth to argue.

They exchanged a meaningful look and went their separate ways, Jungkook straight towards the fridges with the beer. After filling an entire cart with multiple six packs of different brands, he looked around for the others, finally spotting Namjoon in the middle of the store, typing on his phone.

“Hey. Got what we need?” Namjoon asked when Jungkook joined him and peered into the cart. “This is just beer. What about the rest?”

“Hoseok hyung was with Taehyung and Dilara getting that stuff…”

Hoseok joined them then. “Take me with you,” he stated to Namjoon, looking mildly traumatised.

Namjoon frowned. “What are you talking about? Have you guys got everything?” All three of them turned to see Taehyung and Dilara by the wines, seemingly in a serious conversation. “What’s going on over there?”

Hoseok raised his eyebrows. “Well,” he began, “Taehyung is pretending to be a wine connoisseur giving a tour of his private winery to Dilara, a socialite who is trapped in a loveless marriage.”

Namjoon stared at him, evidently able to make neither head nor tail of this statement. “What?”

Hoseok nodded. “Yeah. Like I said, please take me with you.”

Namjoon responded, but Jungkook barely heard him; he watched Taehyung and Dilara, standing apart but still close together, their hands brushing and their gazes fixed on each other, apparently having forgotten that they were not alone. 

The party was supposed to start in three hours; they simply did not have time for this right now. “I’ll get them,” he volunteered, abandoning the older members with the cart of beer and striding over to the happy couple.

“Sorry, guys,” he muttered, stepping in between them, for that’s where the Pinot coincidentally was. “Namjoon hyung sent me - he’s getting really impatient.” He pretended not to notice Taehyung’s annoyed sigh or Dilara self-consciously fluffing out her hair.

Later that night, after a pleasant evening at Hoseok’s apartment, Jungkook settled into the gaming chair in his own, ready to play Trine. In light of Taehyung joining them, Jungkook put forward the one three-person game they had in their backlog, a medieval fantasy game with Zoya the Thief, Amadeus the Wizard, and Pontius the Knight, played by Dilara, Taehyung and Jungkook respectively.

Jungkook was determined to have this session go well. He wasn’t exactly sure why or what it was, but he felt as though he had something to prove to Taehyung, probably because he was the guest during their regular two-person gaming sessions.

Trine was different from A Way Out, mostly in the sense that while the latter was a human story of moral conflict and emotional connections, Trine was, in every sense of the word, a game. Three misfits having to free themselves of a magical curse, each with their own weapons and abilities - it was straightforward and promised to be fun. 

Dilara, in Jungkook’s opinion, was made to play Zoya the Thief. Zoya’s skill was archery and with her excellent hand-eye coordination, Dilara shot every single arrow exactly where she was aiming, her brow furrowed slightly in concentration. Jungkook and his character, Pontius the Knight, watched in awe, his sword dangling uselessly at his side - until something appeared out of nowhere and hit him in the head.

“What was that?” he demanded, his eyes darting across the screen and groaning when he saw that Pontius’s energy level had dipped. Without thinking, he slashed his sword through the air, the animated flame at the end of it rising but causing no damage.

“Pay attention!” Taehyung - or Amadeus - had evidently thrown some kind of object at Pontius. As Jungkook watched, Amadeus conjured up another similar looking object, while Taehyung grinned in the pop-out screen. Begrudgingly, Jungkook had to admit that even Taehyung was made to play Amadeus the Wizard - quick, witty and wearing ridiculous robes.

“Oi!” Dilara’s voice rang through his headphones. “You both know we’re all on the same side, right?”

Jungkook rolled his eyes as they continued through the game, entering a ruined castle.

“Okay, here goes.” Taehyung cleared his throat as a dialogue by Amadeus appeared on the screen, and proceeded to read the entire thing in a gruff, grandiose sort of voice that Jungkook supposed he considered a wizard’s. Through the dramatics, he could hear Dilara laughing at the voice and when he glanced at the pop-up screen, saw her looking at something to her side, and it occurred to him for the first time that Taehyung and Dilara were sitting in the same room.

The thought annoyed him more than he expected. This wasn’t how gaming was supposed to be done. Gaming was different timezones, dead of night, coffee runs and straining eyes - not sitting ten feet apart in the same bedroom and giggling at inside jokes. 

It didn’t get better as the night went on. The game went well; in fact, they were progressing at an alarming rate, finding objects, overcoming obstacles, gaining points and keeping their energy levels at an all-time high. All three of their characters seemingly worked well together, their powers in perfect tandem.

However, Jungkook was slowly starting to regret inviting Taehyung to play - not because he wasn’t good, but because it wasn’t right. There was a disturbance; he didn’t seem to understand Jungkook and Dilara’s normal trash talk, had a habit of making rather asinine observations in the graphics of the game that more often than not, ended up leading to a clue the other two had missed, and seemed to be more interested in the personality of all three characters than the actual quest.

Most frustratingly, Taehyung was beating the game - and the other players. He seemed to be able to come up with the most absurd solutions to problems - and all of them worked. During a play where they had to get at a clue that was sneakily tucked into the ceiling, Jungkook and Dilara were looking for ways to unlock a ladder that the game was offering them for a certain number of points. 

“Do you have enough energy to break through the wall with your arrows?” Jungkook urged her.

“I can try…” Dilara aimed and Zoya shot an arrow which simply bounced against the wall. “I don’t think that’s the way. And I’m running out of arrows. There has to be another way to break down that wall.”

“Okay, well, the ladder is behind it. Maybe we can blow it up?” 

“You’re the one with the flaming sword.”

“Maybe I can throw it at the wall or something… burn it down…” Jungkook searched the screen frantically, passing by Amadeus, who was using his power of conjuring to simply create cube-shaped objects. “Taehyung hyung? Some help?”

“Yeah, hang on just a sec…” Taehyung, seemingly ignoring their conundrum entirely, was now stacking the objects one above the other with a slight gap between the edges, levitating the ones at the top. “There,” he said, once they almost reached the ceiling. “Use those as steps and get to the top.”

Dilara gasped and Zoya immediately sprinted up the slanting tower of blocks, easily retrieving the clue from the ceiling. “It worked!” she exclaimed in wonder, the character jumping down gracefully. “My hero,” she said dramatically, looking out the side of her screen again, which Taehyung returned with a grin and a wink at her.

Jungkook poked his tongue into his cheek. “We have, like, seven more clues left,” he said stonily, but his words were drowned in the midst of their joking and laughing. This, right here, was the problem, he reflected: he, Jungkook, had the obvious goal, which was to collect the most points and win the damn game, whereas Taehyung’s primary objective seemed to be to make Dilara laugh, the game a mere secondary.

He wondered why Dilara wasn’t more annoyed, for she enjoyed winning just as much as he did. But she seemed equally excited at the prospect of a fellow player reading out the dialogues as though they were a script, inventing a voice for Zoya and changing her accent, getting immersed in the characters and the story along with Taehyung, with Jungkook having to remind them that time was running out.

“We’re going to lose,” he stated sullenly after a while, when it seemed unlikely that they would finish before their energy packs died. 

“Not necessarily,” pointed out Dilara, moving Zoya through an empty corridor to look for the last clue - the Trine.

“Found it,” said Taehyung casually, as though he had just found his sock and not the Trine that would allow them to win the entire game. “Let’s go?”

“Yes - oh, my God!” Jungkook ran down the castle, making sure Zoya and Amadeus were both following Pontius, his heart racing with the familiar anticipation of possibly winning the game.

“Ah, my controller is stuck.” Taehyung clicked his tongue as the animated Amadeus slowed down without Taehyung speeding him along. 

“What? Don’t you dare make us lose this, Tae!” Dilara threatened him, when they’d almost reached the final destination, where they could see the other two artifacts they must combine with the Trine.

“Wh - I can’t help this! Lara - catch!” Amadeus flung the Trine - the Trine - to Zoya, who lunged for it at the last moment, fumbled it and dropped it just as the timer ran out.

“No!” Jungkook dropped his controller and covered his mouth in horror. “No, no no!” He glared at the pop-out screen, vindicated to see Dilara glaring out the side of her screen before she stood up and disappeared from view, reappearing in Taehyung’s video.

“I’m going to kill you,” she muttered to Taehyung, who grabbed her hands to stop her from doing any damage. It was a few more seconds before Jungkook realised they had moved on from the momentary seriousness to mock-anger, until Taehyung tugged at their clasped hands playfully and she fell into his lap, giggling.

Jungkook watched, dumbfounded, until Taehyung, laughing, said into the speaker, “This was so much fun, really. I think I’ll head to bed now, though,” he added, as Dilara got off his lap and went to her own laptop, pulling on her headphones.

“Yeah?” Jungkook muttered. “No rematch?”

“We’ve been playing for three hours,” he remarked. “You want to play more?”

“I want to win. Dilara?” he asked hopefully. 

“Oh, I -” She bit her lip, apparently mulling. On the pop-out screen, Taehyung had already logged off. Jungkook stared at her, his stomach churning in premature disappointment as she looked at something off screen and visibly tried to hide a smile.

“Dilara?”

“Uh… I think I’m done for tonight, too. But let’s play Person 5 tomorrow, JK. Without Taehyung,” she added deliberately, Taehyung’s muffled protests audible in her background. “Had fun, though, love. Good night!”

Jungkook swallowed as the screen went dark. Had fun? Jungkook didn’t think he’d ever hear Dilara say that about a game she had lost, even though he had never seen her laugh this much while gaming before.

Still reeling from the loss, he went straight to his gaming menu and clicked on Real Racing. No characters, no story - just cars and speed. It was weird playing this game alone, but he needed this win right now. 

Anything to not feel like a loser.

—

Sometime in the summer of that year when the group was in New York, wrapping up the America leg of the tour before starting in Europe, Dilara Komyshan DNF-ed a race.

Partly due to jetlag and partly due to the fact that it was pouring outside, almost all the members were in the suite where the race was being aired. Only Yoongi and Jimin weren’t there, the former because he was working and the latter because he was in the gym.

Jungkook had declined Jimin’s offer to work out together; he was tired, and there was the race. He would work out later, for sure. The rest of the members lounged about, doing various activities while the race played at low volume. It was beyond exciting, real-life cars going at a speed of three hundred kilometres an hour between the gorgeous mountains of Mugello, Italy.

Jungkook wished he were there; Italy had been one of his favourite countries to visit during the Red Bull collaboration last year. The views were incredible, the weather was summery, the air was pristine and the house they’d lived in had been so beautiful and rustic, with enough space outside for him and Dilara to work out together while she went through her extended break-up with Taehyung.

Jungkook sneaked a glance at the aforementioned member. Taehyung didn’t look like he was thinking about Italy last year at all; his gaze was fixed on the screen, biting his lip and tensing up every time Dilara’s car was shown on screen, as though he expected her to crash any second. 

Therefore, when her car did touch another car and they both spun out, Jungkook flinched and Taehyung was on his feet instantly, eyes wide at the screen. It didn’t seem like a violent crash, but he stayed standing, the veins in his neck popping as he stared until Dilara climbed out of the car and took off her helmet.

“Oh, thank God,” he muttered, sighing hugely in relief and sitting back down, dropping his head in hands.

Jungkook frowned; of course he was glad Dilara was okay, but she was also disappointed, for sure. She had effectively lost the race - didn’t Taehyung care about that?

The rest of the race went by with far less interest from anyone in the suite, Dilara appearing briefly in the garage, having changed into jeans and a team t-shirt. From the sounds of it, the commentators seemed to agree that it was a “racing incident”, though caused by Dilara who had apparently attempted a very ambitious overtake that had gotten away from her. 

Taehyung’s face was unreadable; he was flitting between looking at the screen and constantly checking his phone, most likely waiting for a text from Dilara. The race ended and the winners were celebrated, followed by post-race interviews where Dilara was asked about nothing but the crash.

“I did speak to Carlos as soon as we were out of the car,,” she said, nodding. looking a bit cornered with several mics being shoved at her. “We’ve sorted that out. It’s definitely really unfortunate about both our races; it wasn’t the intention and I wish we’d been able to continue, but at the same time…” She shrugged. “It was a gap, you know? What kind of a driver would I be if I didn’t take the opportunity?”

“Even if it was at the cost of a fellow driver?” asked a faceless journalist off screen.

“No - of course not.” Dilara frowned and shook her head. “Like I said, Carlos and I talked about it and I’m - I’m very sorry, obviously. But I tried to go for the gap and he tried to block it - we would’ve both done the same thing if the roles were reversed, I’m sure.” But she looked visibly rattled. The interview ended then and Lewis Hamilton appeared on screen for his interview.

Jungkook reached for his phone and typed out a text.

Jungkook [11:15] I saw the race. I’m sorry. Let me know if you want to get your mind off it. We can play anything you want :)

It didn’t take long for her response to arrive. Jungkook waited, recalling how this had genuinely helped her get over a bad race earlier in the year.

Dilara [11:20] Thanks, JK. Just don’t feel like it today though. Sorry.

As Jungkook read her message, once, twice, thrice, trying to process this and not feel disappointed, Taehyung’s phone buzzed on his lap.

He answered it immediately, jumping to his feet. “Hey,” he said softly, as he walked away towards the rooms. Jungkook stared after him as he nodded at the conversation, his voice growing quieter as he left the group, eventually going into his bedroom and closing the door behind him.

A couple of hours later, after Jungkook had dragged himself to the gym and worked out harder than his body was technically allowing him, he sat at his laptop with a coffee, knowing he had only a little while before it was night in Austria.

Jungkook [14:40] Last chance? We can play Life Is Strange. Seeing me play a teenage girl might make you feel better. I’ll do the voice too.

Dilara [14:44] Haha. That might. Will have to take a raincheck though. Sorry.

Jungkook [14:45] No problem. Let me know if you want to talk or anything.

Dilara [14:46] I will. Thanks, JK. You’re a good friend. The best actually. 

The message stayed in Jungkook’s mind the rest of the day, through rehearsal, soundcheck and the concert. The best. The best. He was her best friend. He’d cheered her up on a bad day, even if it was only on text, even if it was only for a moment.

Later that night, once everyone else was asleep but for some reason, he was still awake, Jungkook checked his phone. He didn’t know what he was expecting to find; it was the crack of dawn in Italy and almost the next night in Korea. The only people he knew were in remotely the same timezone as him were on this very floor of the hotel.

He turned to Jimin with whom he was sharing a room. After a long and borderline nauseating conversation with Sooah that Jungkook had accidentally walked in on, Jimin had finally gone to sleep and was now dead to the world. Jungkook reached for his laptop and opened it to Life Is Strange, connecting his headphones before the sound could disturb Jimin.

As it turned out, it was a good thing Dilara had declined taking part in this game for it didn’t seem to have a multi-player option at all. The single player was to assume the character of Max, a photography student in Arcadia Bay with the power to turn back time. It was the most cerebral game Jungkook had ever played; it was difficult, required concentration that was in short supply for Jungkook right now, and he found himself missing having a partner to solve the puzzles and quests with.

But Jungkook was a solo player, as was Max. He started feeling a kind of kinship with Max, who also seemed to be surrounded by people in her hometown and yet, played alone. The game began with Max experiencing a vision of a tornado during class that destroyed the town, following which, while stepping out to calm down, she witnessed a fellow student shoot another in the head and kill her.

Jungkook flinched at the gunshot, the sudden sound startling him, when he discovered Max’s new ability to rewind time. Upon going back in time to before the student - Nathan - shot the girl, Max saved her, a girl who was apparently Max’s childhood friend Chloe, now her partner in solving a series of mysterious deaths in the town of Arcadia Bay.

Jungkook imagined Dilara reading Chloe’s dialogue, even though Chloe wasn’t a player. Chloe had a very similar vibe to Dilara, he felt; they looked nothing alike, but there was a determination of a kind that Dilara had. Chloe was sensitive, asking for Max’s help to find out what happened to her missing friend Rachel, brave in her desire to fight the bad guys not afraid to cry when they discovered that Rachel was dead.

Jungkook sniffed but powered through; this was exactly the kind of game Dilara liked, with characters and story and human relationships and connections on screen. He got it now, now that it was Max and Chloe against the world. Best friends. He watched, played, went through every motion to keep them together, including going back in time to save Chloe’s father from dying in a car crash. When that alternate reality meant that Chloe was instead injured in the crash and paralyzed from the waist down, Jungkook didn’t hesitate: he went back in time once again, letting her father die and saving Chloe once again.

It was almost dawn when the game was coming to an end. Jungkook could tell the end was nearing because the timeline was meant to span less than a week, but he couldn’t tell where it was going. He frowned as the game took him, Max, to San Francisco for the opportunity to display her photo at an art gallery. It almost felt as though the game was getting away from him, for why had the story moved so far away from Arcadia Bay and from Chloe?

Max calls Chloe.

Jungkook read the dialogue, his heart skipping a beat, for here it was: the tornado, the one that Max had had a vision of hours ago at the beginning of the game, was here in Arcadia Bay, threatening to destroy everything and everyone. 

The game took Max back to the moment she took the gallery photo and Jungkook swallowed, the lump in his throat painful as he and Max descended into a pit of alternate realities that existed as a result of them messing with time, only to come to the heartbreaking conclusion that it all began because Max had saved Chloe from being shot.

“No,” whispered Jungkook out loud, his voice breaking. This was why he hated story-telling games, he thought angrily, biting his lip and feeling his eyes fill up anyway. What was the point? You got attached to a character, to her best friend, to her family, and just when you thought you were making it, it imploded and forced you to choose between two equally important things, between freedom and the ally you made in prison, or between your best friend and your integrity.

What was he supposed to do now? Let the town be destroyed to save Chloe, a character who wasn’t even a player? That definitely wasn’t how the game was designed; he couldn’t imagine the programmers would consider that a win. No, if he had to win the game, he had to save the world. Save the cheerleader, save the world, Dilara had said, months ago. It always came down to saving the world.

Jungkook followed the instructions, his vision blurring as Max went back to Arcadia Bay while the storm approached, reuniting with Chloe when the moment of truth arrived. Jungkook’s finger hovered over the button on the controller, his face screwed up as he clicked on the option in the dialogue box.

He watched motionlessly as the animation exploded, the storm rolling in and destroying Arcadia Bay, the entire town razed to the ground. As the camera panned around the devastation, Jungkook swallowed the lump in his throat and let the tears stream silently down his face as Chloe appeared amidst the ruins, alive and relieved. She and Max clasped hands and left Arcadia Bay together, leaving the wreckage behind them.

—

Thanks for reading. Don’t forget to leave a review :)

[bangtanficsforyou]

Happy Birthday Rosie! I might be late in case of which, I apologise. But I hope you have/had an excellent birthday and have/had lots of fun. Thank you for being a part of the community and your presence is much appreciated. All the love 🤗💖. @ggukkieland

[jananakookie]

Maybe you could share your list of the stories on Tumblr that you recommend to read or at least profiles? :)

Btw, love your works

Ah I'm very sorry, I hardly ever read these days. Always wanted to make a post with my favorite BTS stories but I obviously barely get shit done, sorry.

As for blogs, I can recommend pretty much anything by @yoonia @btssmutgalore @angelicyoongie @kpopfanfictrash and @yoonjinkooked they're just some of my favorite writers on here but there are so many more and many of them deserve much more attention. One of my new year resolutions will be to read more and finally make a post with my favorite stories haha

Also, if you want you can check out @ggukkieland and @moonchild1 for reading lists.

Thank you for your ask, I'm very happy you like my stuff! 🫶🏼

[kimnjss]

trouble in paradise

— you met online with him requesting to fund your lifestyle. no idea who he is or what he looks like, but his offer is too appealing to deny. so you agree, sure you’ll never meet this man in person. but what happens when a regular at your club seems to feel a bit too familiar…

↫ masterlist ↬

⇝ taglist: @agustdef @yoon2k @jaiuneamesolitaiire @darthamira @dee-ehn @gldnrecs @hopeworldjimin @preciouschimine @diminieshoe @silentlyimpractical @btsbangtanbois @agustneeds @tae165 @joontopia @dionysusrage @hellotherehoneybee @certifiedcrazycatlady @morseszn @yoooonie @peachy-tata @lochness-butmakeitsexy @rikisnotforsale @v3nti @hobiismyhopeu @ggukkieland @kxdrawhl @morndas @prdshobi @codeinebelle @mimisweaterpaws @lil-sracha @arya-di-angelo @todorokiskitten @ayyyocee @salty-for-suga @stepheboo @bloomtilweache @taefect94 @jooniesbanoonies @bluewhale52 @stcrwhiz @sweeneyblue1 @minglossx @butterflylion @veronawrites @immafuckyoutilyouaint1 @megagrl

A/N: timestamps make sense throughout the fic. if u want to be added to the tag list, send me an ask! + if you’ve asked to be on my permanent taglist, you do not need to ask to be added to this one !!

[i-am-baechu]

I posted 1,142 times in 2022

That's 857 more posts than 2021!

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@i-am-baechu

@jung-koook

@btsqualityy

@taee

@ggukkieland

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Welcome to Little Mix’s Mixtape. Eight different stories inspired by eight different songs. Heartbreak, mystery, sex, infidelity, pettiness and becoming one self, what more can you want from a story? 

Confetti (M).

Genre: Ceo! Jin, heiress! reader, established relationship! au, lovers to enemies!au, infidelity! au, reader is plotting something, comedy, smut, and angst 

Summary: Y/N was shocked when Seokjin asked her to marry him. It’s been two months since she last heard from her “boyfriend” and honestly she didn’t really care for his excuses. The last time she saw him they had an argument about him overworking and in the end he called her a gold digger. A stupid move on his part. She accepts his ring but that won’t be the only diamond she takes from him. Men should really watch their mouths especially when your partner is as petty as Y/N.

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286 notes - Posted March 22, 2022

#4

♬ Summary: Jungkook doesn’t get jealous...why would he be? He has the best job in the world, the best hyungs and a girlfriend that loves him so much. He has no reason to be jealous...

♬ Pairing: Established relationship; Jungkook x reader 

♬ Rating: Explicit (18+) 

♬Genre: Established relationship, angst, smut and fluff

♬ Warnings: Smut, jealousy and swearing

♬ Part of, ‘ I fell In Love With A Girl Group Stan; The After Story

Jungkook loves that Y/N has her girl group account. He loved that she was passionate about music like him, just in a different way. There was one thing that always made him feel angry (he wasn’t even sure if that was the right emotion), the love she had for Red Velvet was very clear. The moment he met her, he knew how much she loved Red Velvet. She had Irene on her phone in all aspects and had every version of a Red Velvet album in her collection. He thought it was cute but sometimes he just felt angry (?). 

Like right now, all the guys came over to their house to hang out and Y/N was excited but it was for something else, “I’m just so excited guys. I missed Red Velvet so much.”

Namjoon let out a small laugh and he ruffled her hair, “I’m glad you're excited. Have you already placed your pre-order?” 

“Not yet. I’m waiting to see all the versions before I make the decision.”

Jungkook sat on the couch across from them with an annoyed look. She was always excited for Red Velvet’s comeback but whenever it comes to his comeback she doesn’t show the same emotion. Sure, she goes with him to filming and recording and sure she shows support by making meals for everyone but that wasn’t the point. He wanted to see her with the same excitement that she had with Red Velvet with his own comeback. 

Taehyung chuckled at this and handed Y/N his phone, “So far there’s two versions.” 

“Ohh!? I really want the Irene version...”

Of course she wants Irene, Jungkook rolled his eyes and turned his body more towards the television. The only person that saw this was Jin. He raised his eyebrow and stood up from the dinner table to sit next to Jungkook. He wrapped his arm over Jungkook’s shoulder who was ignoring him, “Kook what’s wrong?” 

“Nothing.”

“I doubt it's nothing, you have that angry look.” 

Jungkook scoffed at this and rolled his eyes, “Leave me alone grandpa.” 

Jin let out a small laugh and glanced at Y/N who was showing Hoseok her phone. He then glanced back at Jungkook with a comforting smile, “Are you jealous?” 

Jungkook let out a small cough and pushed his arm off of him, “What are you talking about? Why would I be jealous?” 

“I don’t know, you tell me.” 

He clicked his tongue and looked at Y/N, “Look at her...she’s so excited for Red Velvet.”

“And you don’t like that?” 

“It’s not that I don’t like it...she never reacts like that with my comebacks.”

Jin raised his eyebrow at this and nodded his head slowly, “She comes to every recording with you and stays up with you when you practice. She supports you differently.”

“I know that...I just want her to be excited like that with my comeback. She supports me and does so much but I just want her to be excited.” 

“Maybe you should talk to her before you snap at her on accident.” 

Jungkook sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, “I know, I know.” 

He glanced at Y/N with a frown and she sensed his eyes on her. She looked at him and her smile slowly disappeared, “Kook, are you okay?” 

He shook his head and mouthed out “Later.” 

Her eyes widened at this but she nodded her head slowly. She watched him turn his head back to Jin and they continued to discuss something she couldn’t hear. She bit her lip at this and a wave of anxiety hit her. Whatever they were talking about it seemed serious and she didn’t like that.

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318 notes - Posted November 25, 2022

#3

Title: Perfect Love | ♞ | | ♚ || ♛ |

Paring: Jeon Jungkook x reader 

Genre: Strangers to lovers! Au, tattoo parlor owner Jungkook! Au, florist and cafe owner! Reader, opposite attract! Au, soft boy Jungkook, Namjoon and Seokjin are together in this, romance, fluff, angst and smut

Summary: Stories of the innocent girl and the bad boy with tattoos was a fan favorite. A favorite because the thought of the bad boy having a soft spot for the girl was something no one could imagine but they secretly hoped for. Jungkook fit this stereotype perfectly. Running away from home at the age of fifteen, he put all his efforts on proving everyone wrong. Graduating on top of his class and opening his business with none of his family members to help him, he felt like his dreams were all achieved. It wasn’t until the door opened on a random day to a girl dressed in a pink ruffle dress with her sister to get a tattoo that he realized he had another dream to achieve. 

Warnings: Child abuse, alcoholism, assault, child abandonment, blood, violence, blood, and smut 

“Raindrops convey emotions that even we don’t understand. My grandmother always told me that when it rains it means the ones who passed are crying for you. Rather it be a sad cry or a happy cry, they cry for you. She also said the wind is the soft touch from someone you loved trying to reach out to you. I associate everyone with flowers but with him, I associate him with  butterflies because of how he made me feel.”

“What did he see in you?”

Y/N looked at the window and thought to herself and looked back at the little girl with a small smile, “He saw light in me.”

January 10th, 1997 

The rain was pouring hard and Jungkook knew that this was the wrong night to do it but he had no choice to follow through. He continued to run against the dirt road letting the rain hit the back of his neck while his cap protected his vision. He knew exactly where this path was taking him, he's been down this road millions of times. The same garden and the same leaning mailbox greeting him. He knocked on the door twice and whispered a small “Hello”. 

The door was slowly unlocked and his hyung stood there with a tired look mixed with confusion, “Jungkook?” 

He’s replayed this conversation a million times in his head but somehow he couldn’t say anything logically to him at the moment, “Namjoon-hyung...umm...I...”

“Spit it out, it's freezing dude.” 

“My dad did it again and...I ran away.” 

This woke him up and gave the younger man a sad look, “Jungkook, you're fifteen. You can’t just show up at my doorstep. You do realize I can get in trouble-”

“My father doesn’t care and my mother packed my stuff for me. They were already planning this and I know they won’t call the authorities on you. Too drunk to even know numbers let alone another person in the house. Please.” 

Namjoon let out a deep sigh and looked down at his feet. He opened the door wider and welcomed him into the familiar setting and scene, “Come in.” 

“Thank you hyung.” 

He took off his shoes in a hurry as he stared at the living room that had plants all around and a single goldfish. It's the same thing over and over again but he never got tired of the warmth he felt. Namjoon locked the door and patted his back gently causing him to turn towards the taller man, “You’re lucky I live by myself now or my mother would’ve killed us both. Are you hungry?”

“Always.” 

He set his bag on the couch and stared at the couch with a longing look but shook it off when he heard Namjoon drop something in the kitchen, “Fucking hell. Sorry if that scared you, sit down in the living room and I’ll bring something.”

“Okay.” 

Jungkook sat in the far corner love seat and rubbed the arms of the chair as if he was remembering the touch of the fabric. He looked back at the couch again and a sad smile appeared, most happy moments must come to an end at one point is what Namjoon always told him and he knew this by personal experience. He looked up when he heard footsteps and saw Namjoon holding a tray of tea and two ham sandwiches, “Sorry but I need to go grocery shopping.” 

Even though you say that, you always forget, “Thank you hyung.” 

Namjoon sat on the couch as he took a sip of his tea, giving Jungkook a concerned look, “I’m sorry about your dad.” 

“I ran away, which means I can finally be happy. I can’t change my parents but I can change me.” 

Namjoon raised his eyebrow at this and nodded his head, “That was philosophical for a fifteen year old. Is it the books that you're reading?”

“Umm, magazines too but I guess books help?”

“Speaking of school, what are we going to do about that?” 

“I can just walk, don’t worry.”

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380 notes - Posted March 12, 2022

#2

I Fell In Love With A Girl Group Stan | Masterlist  | ♞ | | ♚ || ♛ || ♜ || ✆ |

Summary: Going to a BTS concert with her best friend was an anxiety attack waiting to happen because she only knew a handful of their songs and felt like an intruder but she didn’t want her to go alone. She made two mistakes. Number one, not changing her lockscreen from Irene to something else and number two, wearing a Red Velvet lanyard. When her friend wins a raffle to meet them, everything changes for her and the youngest member; especially when her alarm starts playing Bad Boy in the middle of her sentence.

¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·

→ Genre: Idol au, strangers to lovers au, girl group stan au, social media au, kpop fan page au, college au, romance, angst, comedy and smut

→ Main pairing: Idol! Jungkook x Fan girl! Reader 

→ Side ships: Yoongi x OC 

→ Warnings: Explicit language, smut, mature themes, alcohol usage, anxiety disorder, stalking, and obsessive behavior 

Playlist 💖

¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·

Chapters - 

Characters - Y/N and her friends

Characters - Bts

Chapter one - Excuse me? 

Chapter two - Don’t Put That Into The Universe

Chapter three - Concert!

Chapter four - Category is…being awkward

Chapter five - His little crush

Chapter six - Huh? ( Bonus: I )

Chapter seven - Are you Jungkook? ( bonus: I )

Chapter eight- Weird behavior ( bonus I II )

Chapter nine - How can I compare to Irene!?

(bonus I )

Chapter ten - Man Fuck You 😭 ( bonus I )

Chapter eleven - With You 💕☁️ ( bonus I II )

Chapter twelve- Dumb Dumb ( bonus I II )

Time Skip ( I II )

Chapter thirteen - New York With You 💕 (bonus I )

Chapter fourteen- Yours ~ 💜 (bonus I II)

Drabble - Study date

Drabble - She’s so hot

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441 notes - Posted February 23, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Title: Love Me or Leave Me 

Paring: Min Yoongi x reader 

Genre: Idol! Yoongi, Wife! Reader, established relationship! Au, childhood friends to lovers! Au, broken marriage au, fluff, smut and angst 

Summary: Everyday it felt the same for Y/N. She’s always sent texts to Yoongi asking him if he's coming home or where he was but she never got an answer. Even when he was home, the silence pierced through her heart but what hurt the most was the yelling. Well, it felt like he was the fighter while she was the one just taking his harsh words hoping it will end soon. She finally gives him the ultimatum, love me or leave me. 

Warnings: Fighting, bullying, unfair blaming (?), jealousy, depression, disabilities, shots, talk of having a child, Yoongi is stressed and takes it on the reader, bless the reader, flashbacks, MAJOR ANGST!, and sex scenes

Part of Little Mix's Mixtape series!

The silence in the room made Y/N feel uncomfortable but she had to say what was on her mind to him. In this moment she didn’t see her husband or the love of her life, she saw a man that treated her so poorly it caused her to ask this question. Yoongi stared at her with wide eyes at what she just said and even she was shocked at the words. In the eleven years of being together, she never thought this would happen between them. She always thought they would feel safe with each other but that safety net is broken now. He quickly looked away from her as his eyes started to get watery but looked back at her with a determined look, “Y/N, do you mean it?” 

She blinked her eyes and turned her back on him, just how he did to her in the past months,“I don’t know...maybe....I just don’t know what to do with you or our marriage anymore.” 

He looked at her with a shocked look and walked up to her slowly but was met with her unknowingly stepping away from him. His eyes widened and looked down at the ground, trying to swallow spit before he let out a sob, “Y/N, you need to say it again...”

“Yoongi...I-” 

“Don’t call me that...it hurts.”

She wrapped her arms around herself and turned back to him with tears going down her face. He wanted to reach out to her and wipe away the tears but he didn’t even know if he had that right anymore, “Do you even love me anymore?”

“Of course-”

“You haven’t said I love you in three months to me. Do you....Do you hate me?”

Yoongi shook his head and walked up towards her but she shook her head at this, “This isn’t fair Yoongi...That's why I said it...That’s why I asked if…if you wanted a divorce.” 

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699 notes - Posted April 3, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

I can't believe I've had this blog for a year and I have gotten so much love. Thank you guys for the support!

[vinetae]

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