#missionaries do NOT interact

[artemis-howl]

Actually, I never answer the door so I will never be confronted with having to accept the fantastic

[cheesey-rice]

Ok this is on me for my weakness for little old ladies but 😭. Got pulled over by some older Japanese women trying to explain god or whatever to me and when they asked the are you Asian question I was like my mom's from Taiwan and 😭😭. She said "oh, you mean America? Jkjk 😁" 😭😭😭😭 Ma'am. Ma'am you are from Japan and you want to make the joke about Taiwan being the colony of another country and USA's post WW2 economic interference in East Asia? Ma'Am.

[chuluoyi]

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐖𝐈𝐅𝐄, 𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄

- zayne x reader

husband and wife, at the pinnacle of their love. on a night filled with wonders, you will know that he sees only you and everything that you are

genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—fluff, explicit smut: slightly rough & drunken sex, fingering, missionary. you and zayne have a daughter (her name is meirin!)

note: god what have i written... the anniversary banner pv made me do it T^T anyhow, this is also a direct prequel to the upcoming angst fic in the name of love :))

“Whoa, so that’s Dr. Zayne and his wife...”

Soft whispers rippled through the crowd the moment you and your husband stepped into the pristine ballroom, all eyes subtly drawn to your arrival.

Tonight, you were accompanying Zayne to Akso Hospital’s anniversary dinner party. His sharp gaze and immaculate three-piece suit made a striking impression. Naturally, you matched his sophistication in every way—your flowing black dress accentuated your figure, while your hair styled into an elegant updo.

A sight for sore eyes, that was what the two of you were.

“Mind your step,” he murmured softly, his voice reassuring as the two of you gracefully ascended the stairs. His left arm wrapped around your shoulder, and you couldn’t help but notice the envious gazes of the ladies fixed on you.

“How does such a perfect couple even exist?”

“She’s so pretty… Of course, Dr. Zayne only wants the best.”

“Oh! And I’ve heard they already have a daughter too!”

A smile curled on your lips, a subtle boost of confidence washing over you as their murmurs reached your ears. You felt giddy too—on most days, you were a hunter in a life-and-death situations, rough and rugged. But tonight, draped in elegance and arm-in-arm with Zayne, you felt like a princess.

“Don’t smile that wide...” he suddenly whispered to your ears, a twinkle in his hazel eyes. “You’ll look like Meirin when she’s munching on her cookies.”

You shot him a frown. “Wha?”

“All those praises are going straight to your head.” Even in a prestigious event like this, Zayne couldn’t resist teasing you. “Sooner or later, it’ll get too big for me to handle.”

Fixing him with an unimpressed glare, you deadpanned, “Shush, you!”

When you reached the main hall, the buzz of conversation and clinking glasses filled the air, blending with the elegant music playing in the background. The hospital director, an elderly man with a warm smile, greeted you both along with his wife.

"Zayne, thank you for coming," he said, shaking your husband's hand and giving him a light pat on the shoulder. His gaze then turned to you. "Ah, this must be the stellar hunter wife of Dr. Zayne. You look absolutely radiant, madam."

"Ah, please don't call me that..." You mustered your most polished facade, supplying a soft, graceful laugh.

The director's wife grinned and added, "Why didn’t you bring your daughter here? Everyone’s looking forward to finally meet her already."

"She's a handful," Zayne immediately replied with a smile, his tone warm and affectionate. "And she gets fussy when her bedtime nears, so we decided to leave her with my in-laws tonight."

The director let out a hearty guffaw. "No matter how fussy she is, she must be really adorable with a mother this beautiful, eh?"

Throughout the night, it was a compliment you frequently heard. While you were flattered, a thought lingered in the back of your mind—what were your husband's true thoughts about all this attention to you?

Zayne was keenly aware of how captivating you were.

There was a surge of pride whenever he had you on his arm. Just like any man out there, he too wanted to show his hot wife off and flaunt her so everyone could see, as if saying: This is my woman.

But he too knew that it was in a human's nature to covet what they didn't have. And it was rightly proven when he stepped away for just a moment, only to return and find you engaged in conversation with a man.

The hospital director's son, no less.

"Miss, I've heard you're part of the Hunter Association?" he asked you inquisitively. "What a noble profession it is! Keeping all of us here safe on daily basis."

You responded demurely, "And those in Akso do the same, don’t they?"

Your conversation was harmless, and Zayne was a rational man, so he didn’t feel the need to intervene. He just made sure his gaze was on you every so often.

But when the director’s son began persistently offering you drinks, filling your glass time after time, Zayne's patience began to wear thin. The sight of the man’s insistence grated on him, stirring a possessive unease he couldn’t entirely ignore.

. . .

You could’ve sworn your vision swam a little after the third glass of alcohol. The warm buzz coursing through you also made everything seem a little brighter, and left you feeling just slightly off-balance.

"Miss, the white wine here is the best—" the man standing before you declared with a convincing grin, swirling the bottle in front of you. "Don't you want to try some?"

"Ah, no, sir..." you replied with a polite laugh, raising a hand in subtle refusal. "I've already had whiskey and gin just now—"

"Just a little! You really have to try it!"

You hesitated, heat creeping up your neck as the alcohol already coursing through your system made your cheeks flush. You didn’t even like alcohol much and only drank socially, but this was the very son of your husband's boss. Refusing outright seemed rude—

“Can you kindly not make her drink too much?”

Or so you thought, until your knight in three-piece suit suddenly stepped in and saved you from your plight.

Zayne’s tone was gentle yet firm, his words striking an authoritative balance. He flashed a placating smile. “My wife doesn’t have a very high tolerance.” Swiftly, he grabbed the glass from your hand and, without missing a beat, downed its contents in one go.

“If you’re looking for a drinking partner, let it be me instead.”

You knew better than anyone that your husband didn’t have a particularly high tolerance for alcohol either. Yet, for the next 30 minutes, you watched, equal parts impressed and concerned, as he matched the man drink for drink, deflecting further offers directed your way with a subtle, protective grace. Though Zayne’s words remained measured, you could see the flush creeping up his neck.

And soon, you’d witness just how far his limits had been pushed.

“Zayne! Are you alright?”

Worry laced your voice as you placed both hands on Zayne's cheeks, your brow furrowing in concern. Somehow or another you managed to drag your husband away and led him to the hotel room.

The warmth of his skin was unmistakable, and his face contorted in discomfort as the vertigo hit him full force. “Oh no, what have you done? Why did you even drink that much!?”

“I’m fine,” Zayne grumbled, his voice thick.

“You’re drunk!” You couldn't help but scold him as you started pulling off his coat and unbuttoning his shirt, trying to help him breathe easier. “You can’t even handle alcohol properly, and yet you’re trying to keep up with him...”

To Zayne, your voice somehow felt comforting. His mind was hazed, but your touch—your hand against his neck—felt like a cool splash of clarity.

His pretty wife... The dizziness was making it hard to stay upright, but the sight of you grounded him, and he instinctively leaned into you—

“Zayne—!”

You barely managed to catch his weight, instinctively wrapping your arms around him. He was so warm against you, his breath uneven, not to mention the slight tremor in his body. "Are you alright?!" you asked in a flurry. "Oh, let me get you some water—"

"You talk too much..." Zayne murmured, his words slurred as everything around him swayed.

Gripping your shoulder to steady himself, his unfocused gaze lingered on you, drawn to the curve of your lips, the delicate line of your neck, and the outline of your cleavage.

How can he have a wife this ravishing and do nothing?

And suddenly, he was sober. Very sober.

Or maybe not. It was simply just him finally giving in to his desires.

In one go, he seized your wrist, yanking you against him with sudden force— and with a quick tilt of your startled, precious face, he devoured your lips in heat.

"—!" It was like a spark igniting, burning through every thought. His mouth was urgent, demanding, as if he couldn’t wait another second to feel the rush of your closeness. His kiss was intoxicating—almost overwhelming—as he tangled his fingers in your hair, tilting your head to gain better access.

Zayne's hands moved to your back, pulling you into him, so close that the heat of his body pressed against yours. Then those sinful hands wandered to your hips, guiding you toward the desk. With reckless urgency, he swept everything off the surface, sending objects crashing to the floor with a sharp clang and made you sit on it.

"Ah, Zayne, you—!" You accidentally pushed him back, and he growled the moment your lips parted.

"Are you trying... to escape?" His gaze turned dark with lust, a dangerous glint flashing in his eyes. "Why? Isn't this exactly how you wanted me to be...?"

In that moment, you gulped as your heart thundered in your chest. What was even happening now? How did it escalate into this?

You stuttered, eyes widened, "Z-Zayne..."

But your husband had shed all traces of his usual composed self. In the haze of his muddled thoughts, he was driven purely by need. He swiftly removed his glasses, tossing them aside without a second thought, and this time—

His lips went straight for your neck, which, unbeknownst to you, had looked so enticing to him all evening.

"Hahh..." His breathy grunts were hot against your skin and his touch no longer gentle but firm and possessive. His mouth moved with a mix of hunger and desperation, and you struggled to contain the moans as his hands slipped inside your dress, and—

A shiver ran down your spine when he spread your legs, and you couldn’t help the titillating gasp that escaped when inserted his two of his fingers in you all at once, edging you.

"Ungh, ngh! Hah—" Your body jerked and you clung to him, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck. Zayne wasn't usually this brash, but tonight it was as if a screw had come loose.

"Louder," he commanded in your ear, and your heart pounded at his authoritative voice. He pushed his digits deeper as if punishing you, that you yelped. "Do not hold back."

He lifted you by your waist, effortlessly pressing you against the small table by the window. You were on the 20th floor, the world below far out of sight, but the thought that anyone might catch a glimpse was somehow... thrilling.

"I-I'm close—" you stammered, and the moment you did, your husband vigorously moved his fingers inside your squelching folds, "A-ah!"

The room felt smaller, the air thicker. The way your walls took his fingers alone made your thoughts scatter, and when you came undone on him, you latched onto him, your head resting against his chest as your breaths came in shaky, uneven gasps. "Z-Zayne... please..."

He pulled out his fingers, looked at your cum coating them, and brought them to your lips. You, still trembling, sucked the essence off with teary eyes.

Sweaty, disheveled, lips swollen and cheeks flushed... how he had reduced you into this state was gratifying.

Zayne’s gaze darkened, his breath heavy as he stared down at you. "Are you ready to take me now?"

You nodded.

He gave you a small smirk, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw gently. "Good girl."

He lifted you over to the bed, and you gasped in surprise as he tossed you onto the soft sheets, the motion quick but not unkind. You barely had time to react before his intense gaze locked onto yours, his presence domineering above you.

“Spread your legs.”

Was this man really your husband? Sometimes, you still struggled to reconcile the tender part of him and the man consumed by a unrestrained intensity before you now.

By now you had swallowed all shame and did so. You wanted to look away, but then unable to when the sight before you caught your breath—

All the while, he had his eyes on you. Zayne pulled at his tie with deliberate intent, then he shed his suit pieces, casting them to the floor with a casual abandon, before undoing the remaining buttons of his shirt, revealing his bare chest altogether.

Your husband looks so hot. The way he gazed at you throughout it all too...

He glanced at the space between your legs. “Wider.”

You complied, letting your face burn impossibly hotter, anticipating him.

He eased in slowly, starting with just the tip. You whimpered at the intrusion.

"Hurts?" he questioned with a frown.

"No," you refuted quickly, desire too burning in your gaze as you met his eyes. "I can take more."

You arched your back as Zayne sank deeper, his full length filling you. A moan tumbled from your lips as your walls clenched in response, and he pushed himself completely inside you.

"Hah..." You inhaled sharply, giving yourself a moment to adjust to his entire length, and seeing you like that, your husband cradled the side of your face with his palm.

"So beautiful..." Zayne whispered, his glazed gray-hazel eyes fixed on your spent face. His other hand clasped yours, pinning it beside your head. "My wife... is so incredibly beautiful."

It was heart-fluttering to know that your husband found you pretty. Everyone might compliment you the same way, but his were the only one that truly mattered. After seven years of marriage, your heart still skipped a beat every time he held your gaze like this.

Without warning, Zayne started to move his hips. Your moans got louder and unabashed as his movements were slow at first, before he picked up the pace and thrusted in and out of you with fervor.

"Ahhh!" You threw your head back as his thick cock messily dragged itself against your walls. In, out, in out— Stars began to blur your vision, your nails digging into his shoulder as you reached for him.

You could see that excited glint in his eyes, the lust exploding at the sight of you. He watched you intently, savoring the way unbound desire twisted your face, each mewl you made filling the air. Your thoughts turned into puzzle pieces—

Thrust. So full, you are.

Thrust. What if... this time— you become pregnant again?

Thrust. That would be... nice. You can call it “New Years’ baby.”

Everything was incoherent. Teetering on the edge of consciousness, each hit to that one spot sent waves of pleasure crashing through you, pushing you to the brink of tears and screams.

Then, unexpectedly, he reached his climax first. His cum shot through, filling your womb to the brim in spurts after spurts, and you cried, trembling beneath him. Your release followed suit though, and you went limp in the aftermath.

Zayne collapsed on top of you and you wrapped your arms around him, burying your head in the crook of his neck, his name still falling off your lips as a whisper in his ear, a gentle song laced within moans. He kissed your neck, your shoulder, panting heavily against you.

“I love you.”

The world outside seemed to fade, leaving only the two of you in a tangled web of desire.

The first thing he heard was your whimper.

With a groan, Zayne cracked his eyes open the morning after, instantly recognizing the dull ache in his head—it was a hangover. But before he could press his hands to his temples, his gaze fell on you, curled up in a blanket next to him.

And the whimper came again, and it tugged at something deep inside him.

“What’s... wrong?” he asked in a groggy voice, turning toward you, his hand instinctively reaching for you despite the pounding headache. “Are you alright...?”

You blinked up at him, a flicker of resentment in your gaze, and Zayne gathered you into his arms. The events of last night came back to him in fragments, and realization dawned on him.

“Are you... sore?” he murmured, concern edging his tone.

“I hate you,” you retorted in a scratchy voice, mushing your head in his shoulder. Zayne widened in slight surprise, pulling you closer into his embrace.

“Is that it...? I’m sorry...”

He gently patted your head and back, trying to soothe you. The sight of you—vulnerable and distressed—made his heart tighten with a pang of guilt. Just how rough had he been with you last night?

“There, there, it’ll pass...” he said quietly, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “It’s normal... because we went longer and more vigorous than usual... Probably just mild irritation in your—”

“Don’t pull medical facts on me,” you muttered sullenly, weakly punching his chest. A smile made its way to his face at your mini attack.

“But it’s true though?”

How endearing. He couldn’t help but feel a warmth in his chest, his heart softening at the sight of you, even in your grumpy state.

And in that moment, Zayne thought, nothing could've possibly ever shatter his world ever again.

[choslut]

˖ ࣪ ، ◞ せ⌇ BABY MOMMA. featuring k. nanami.

↻ there’s nothing nanami wants more in the world than to make you a mommy, and give you his beautiful kids.

tags : breeding kink, creampie, mommy kink (if you squint), messy sex, pet names, feral nanami, marathon sex, lactation + pregnancy (fantasized), ovulation cycle // wc. 0.9k

author’s note : sorry this one’s a lil late, i’ve been busy with theme changes and real life is throwing a million and one hurdles at me and i just can’t keep up 😞 you can't tell me that nanami wouldn't be a massive family man, so here i have him completely desperate to start a family with you and give you his babies. notes and reblogs are always appreciated, and check out my masterlist for non-event based works <3 !!

this work is NSFW. minors and ageless blogs DO NOT INTERACT.

it’s been hours. hours since nanami even proposed the idea of trying for kids, and now, it’s all he can fucking think about. 

it’s all you can think about too, given the fact that he’s fucked you out of your mind, legs numb from being in missionary for as long as you remember with nanami plunging in and out of you, the tip of his cock nudging your cervix with every single thrust. 

it’s repetitive. it’s addicting. 

“hah- kento, can’t take no more…” your voice is a sheepish babble, nails digging into his back as tears stream down your face. “ ‘s too much, ken, please–“

nanami grunts in your ear, hips never ceasing movement as he ruts into you. “g’na have to, sweetheart. this one’s gotta take.”

he said that about the last one, and the one before that, and the one before that… and fuck, you can’t keep up with how many times he’s said it because he’s been going at it for so long with only one goal in mind. 

he’s gonna give you kids. he’s gonna make you a mommy, and you’re gonna raise his kids with him as his wife. 

it’s all he’s ever wanted. it’s all he’s ever dreamed of, and when he watches you lounge around the house wearing nothing but a bra and his oversized dress shirt and a wedding ring fit snugly on your finger, he really can’t stop himself from imagining what you would look like with a swollen tummy, breasts spilling out of that same bra. 

“g’na give you my kids baby…” he’s rambling half out of his ass, his brain scrambled by pure need. “gonna make my girl a mommy. you’re gonna be a great mommy, aren't you?”

he’s brought up the topic before. it was never anything serious, just asking you what you would prefer and never really thinking of his own volition. you had always agreed with him wholeheartedly, and it would somehow lead to the two of you cooing over baby clothes and strollers but never anything more. 

nanami is fucking sick of it. he’s sick of fawning over the idea and not doing anything about it. sure, you’ve made love a couple of times, but it never held any true intent, focusing on the pure need to give each other pleasure. 

well, now, nanami needs more than pleasure. he needs to see you with that swollen tummy and those massive leaky tits, and there’s only one way to do that; fucking you within an inch of your life and cumming in your cunt until it finally takes. 

“kento–“ you seemingly haven’t gotten bored of it yet, despite having been at it for over two hours. your back still arches with every bump to your cervix, nails still raking down his back as his sweaty chest squashes your own. “this one’s gonna take, promise.”

“i can’t be sure of that,” he states matter-of-factly. “although your tracker says you’re ovulating, we can’t just trust that once or twice will be enough.” is he sure of this fact? no, but he is sure that you feel too damn good to stop, even though he’s already finished inside of you enough times to guarantee your pregnancy ten times over. 

you just look so beautiful beneath him. you wear the radiance of sex extremely well, eyes fogged over and mouth hanging open as your steamy pants echo in his ear. you’re borderline intoxicating, and that’s why nanami can’t stop, even though he knows you need him to before you pass out. 

“look at me, angel. i wanna see you.” you weakly turn your cheek away from the pillow and look up at him, lips stained a gorgeous red and swollen from his kisses. “you’re gonna be such a pretty momma.”

your eyelids flutter and your back arches weakly as you cum again for the final time, garbled moans of nanami’s name flooding from your throat. despite the longevity of your session, your cunt still manages to squeeze around him impossibly, and nanami groans deeply, arms sliding around your hips as you pulls you forward to meet his thrusts. 

“kentooo…”

“i know, baby, i know.” the sheets are soiled with your sweat and his, and the tight clampdown of your walls propels him to cum one final time, hips flush against your twitching clit as he pumps you full. 

you both stay like that for a beat, nanami folded over your twitching body before he finally pulls out slowly, and when he does, the sight he’s met with is so incredibly dirty that he can barely believe he was the one to reduce you to such a mess. “oh, angel…”

copious amounts of his release flood from your cunt, leaving a translucent pool on your sheets. whilst he absolutely loves the sight and wishes to brand it on the forefront of his brain, nanami’s goal is still clear as day. 

he leans down and kisses your overstimulated clit, fingers dancing around your twitchy hole and gathering up his release before pushing it back inside with a curl of his fingers that makes you want to scream. 

“can’t waste any, my dear, or it might not take, remember?” when he looks up at you from in between your trembling thighs, the look on his face is nothing short of depraved, blonde strands of hair sticking to his forehead and cheeks stained red with excitement. 

“can’t wait to see my girl become a mommy.”

PREVIOUS : THE COLOUR RED ft. yae miko NEXT : BLACKOUT ft. tartaglia

liked that? check out the WE’RE SO BACK main masterlist.

© choslut 2024 — do not copy, repost or translate my works without permission.

[xochosoxo]

husband!gojo ✮| headcannons

gojoxfem!reader

MDNI -> warnings: afab reader (but anyone can read yk), sfw&nsfw, arranged marriage, slight angst, comfort, pet names, flufflufffluff!, cunnilingus, gojo is pussy whipped, fingering, creamycreamycreamiest creampies, reader calls gojo daddy!, tummypushing

a/n: i had a dream abt this with some random guy and when i woke up i was so disappointed :(( LOL angwah heres some quick gojo headcannons bc i truly miss him and im so lonely.

husband!gojo who you married per each family’s request, making your marriage an arranged one.

husband!gojo who hated the idea of being tied down.

husband!gojo who couldnt wait for the ceremony to end, however when he watched you walk down the aisle, looking so innocent, he felt a tug at his heartstrings.

husband!gojo who didnt know what to do when on your honeymoon. he didnt know whether or not to interact with you or to keep his distance like he promised himself. he decides for the latter.

husband!gojo who enjoys coming to work everyday after his honeymoon because his cute little wife always delivers his lunch to him despite not asking you to.

husband!gojo who starts to soften even more when he sees that you wait for him to come home from work. youre usually sleeping on the couch. he gently scoops you up in his arms and takes you to bed.

husband!gojo who sees that you start getting tired of the routine after a while. making his lunches, waiting for him to come home late. you stop delivering his lunches personally, opting to just give it to him before he leaves in the morning. he doesnt see you when he comes home either.

husband!gojo who makes sure to wash up before slipping into bed with you, wrapping his arms around you . he missed you.

husband!gojo who feels you wake the next morning, obviously confused to see his arms around you. he sighs before bringing you closer to his chest.

husband!gojo who whispers apologies and sweet nothings in your ear as you settle yourself into him with suspicion.

he strokes your head as he says. “im sorry. i know you didnt want this marriage either. im sorry that youve been doing all this alone. i promise ill be here for you. just tell me what you need and i will do everything to help you. youve changed me y/n.”

you look at him, with creased eyebrows, obviously still not trusting him fully.

“ill give you time.” husband!gojo sighs as he lets go of you to get ready for work. you still make him lunch that day.

husband!gojo who comes home and doesnt see you on the couch. he understands that he needs to wait for your response but there is a small part of him that is wondering whether or not you have left.

husband!gojo who sighs in relief when he opens the door to your shared bedroom, seeing you all dolled up in a pretty pj set, sitting comfy on the bed.

husband!gojo who smiles when he sees your face brighten in delight. you walk up to him.

husband!gojo who is surprised when you wrap your arms around him and kiss him with your soft lips. he groans into the kiss, regretting the fact the he never kissed you after the wedding.

husband!gojo who melts to your touch as your bring him to the bed. you remove his jacket and tie as your straddle him, kissing him more harshly.

husband!gojo who makes sure youre okay with with what’s going to happen next. he kisses you again when you say yes.

husband!gojo who takes his sweet time with you. stripping you from your garments,leaving you bare infront of him. he sinks his long fingers into your sopping cunt, your head lolling back in pleasure.

husband!gojo who’s eyes roll back when he finally tastes you. youre addcitive. he laps up your juices, swirling his tongue on your clit. you cum twice on your husband’s tongue, his hands holding your legs apart so they wont close. his fingers continues to scissor you until youre screaming.

husband!gojo who fucks you in missionary position, making sure to watch your face as your react to the pleasure hes giving you.

husband!gojo who cums inside of you only to turn that cum into a creamy mess around your pussy as he pounds into you some more. he can feel his creampie dripping out of you and down his balls.

husband!gojo who enjoys how loud youve become. moaning obscenities and calling him daddy. he wants to fuck you till your dumb!

“fuck princess, youre so fucking messy. fuc—nghh..” he tries to speak but your pussy is squeezing him too well he can barely get words out.

“please daddy!! i need—aghh.. i need you! dont stopp—ahh…” you groan as you have your fourth orgasm of night.

husband!gojo who watches hearts form in your eyes when he cums inside of you for the final time. you can feel his warmth trickling into your womb.

husband!gojo who pulls out and watches his loads flood out of you. he presses on your stomach, watching as more cum gushes out of you.

husband!gojo who brings a warm towel to wipe up the cream around your sex. you moan as he does so, still recovering from all of your orgasms.

husband!gojo who wraps you up into his arms once again, praising you for how well you did.

“you did so good love..” he says stroking your back.

husband!gojo who reminds you that he has fallen in love with you and will do anything and everything in his power to make sure that you are comfortable in this marriage with him.

husband!gojo who knows the two of you will be okay when you peck him on the lips and tell him that you love him.

[miupow]

hear me out...chan trying to fit it in but he's too big and he's whispering all kinds of stuff trying to get you to take it and you're frustrated and needy and you're just so !! done !! because it feels empty and he's so close yet he's not in and finally finally, his thick tip catches and he inches in agonizingly slow simply to hear you whine for it

꒰୨୧◞ ⤷ ❛❛ TOO BIG ! ❜❜ .ᐟ bang chan.

[ ⟡ ] ── minors do not interact ! ⭑ fem!reader , soft dom!chan , est. relationship , monster cock chris lol , size kink , dirty talk , praise kink , daddy kink , missionary/mating press , unprotected sex , bulge kink

a/n ⸝⸝ happy (late) comeback day !! i’m not very proud of this drabble but it’s here and i’m posting it anyway lol <3 save me big dick chris.. save me..

♡ ⸝⸝ ꒰ m.list ꒱ ‧ ꒰ reblogs and feedback appreciated! ꒱

“it’s too big, channie,” you whimper, peering down between your legs— the big fat tip of chan’s cock throbs an angry red as he slides it up between your pussy lips, taps it against your fluttering hole. your ankles dangle in the air over his shoulders, thighs pushed up to your chest by his body pinning you against the mattress, so close you could feel his hot breath, ache for a kiss from the plump, spit-slick lips he bit in arousal. he grips the base of his shaft in one hand, guiding it to push at your rim; you’re frightened by the sheer size of it, thick as a can, veins fat and pulsing… the pressure of it was already overwhelming yet you roll your hips down eagerly, desperate for it to slide in and fill you up.

“shh, stay still, babygirl,” chan coos so sweet, his veiny hand splayed out across your tummy. “and take this fucking cock. daddy knows you can.”

your pussy is making it difficult, so wet chan’s cock misses your hole, slides up your folds to bump against your clit. you shake in pleasure and frustration, reaching your hand down to take ahold of chan’s cock yourself— chan lets you with a warm smile, his thick arms shaking with every slick twist of your hand.

“you need me that bad, baby?” he chuckles, breathless. “thought you said it was too big.”

“i’m so empty,” you whine in response, angling his flared head to spear your core. “need your big cock, daddy—“ finally, finally his tip catches and slides in, sudden yet so achingly slow, your eyes rolling back in tandem with chan’s deep, guttural groan; the stretch burns deliciously, clouds over your senses as your mouth drops open in a moan for more.

“there you go, baby, just like that,” chan continues to bully his cock in past your tight rim, slow and gentle— but there’s nothing gentle about the way he fills you up, inch by fat, throbbing inch stretching your wet gummy walls to their limits. you can feel every ridge, every vein drag hot and heavy… you let go of his shaft in favor for scratching deep red marks into his flexing bicep, scrambling for something to hold on to and ground you. “daddy’s good girl, taking his cock so well— feels so good, doesn’t it?”

“b-big—!” you croak in a daze, an echo of your earlier sentiments; it was all you could manage to make yourself say, rendered brainless in an instant as chan’s blunt cockhead kisses your cervix. “so— so fucking big! ‘n deep, daddy, fuck—“

“yeah?” chan huffs, hips stuttering flush against yours. “am i too big for your little cunt, baby? feel me all the way up here?”

he presses down on the bulge his cock makes in your belly, causing the both of you to keen, your little dripping pussy fluttering around his cock as he twitches inside of you; you desperately want him to move, start pounding your pussy like you’ve been wanting so, so badly… you eagerly nod at chan’s teasing words, buck your hips the best you can folded in half. “yes, yes!” you wail, voice slurred, “give it to me daddy, please!”

“you’re so pretty when you’re begging for me, angel,” chan grins crookedly, pulling his hips back to slide himself out of your hole. you hold your breath in wicked anticipation. “beg some more and i’ll give you what you need.”

[pookieace]

✰ . . . minors do not interact !

gojo and you fucking in missionary makes him dangerously sensitive as it is because he feels so much love as he looks down at you. how pretty you look, how a layer of sweats coats your skin. how your hair is a mess after multiple rounds. how you’re reaching out and grabbing at any part of his body for some form of stability while he fucks your cunt. he can see how you two are a mess where you both join, splatters of your wetness and white sticky remnants of his from previous rounds. you look so stunning. so so so beautiful.

he’s on the verge of cumming every second when you fuck missionary. he adores how he can see you flutter your eyes open and look so fucked out but still gaze at him with love. he gets even more sensitive the second you run your fingers through his undercut. he's groaning, hips faltering as he visibly shivers. feeling the pads of your fingers against his undercut is one thing but feeling your nails against them? that's another. three more thrusts and he's got his balls flushed against you, letting them drain, emptying them right into you.

[natti-ice]

Bridgerton p links vol. 2!

⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡

18+ minors do not interact or click the links! Each link contains porn. All links are from twitter. You must be logged into Twitter for the links to open!

vol 1 here

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!

⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡

— Anthony Bridgerton

sitting on Anthony’s face

fucking yourself with his cock

shoving a dildo into you as a punishment

first time trying bondage with Anthony

getting fingered by tattooed!Anthony

⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡

— Benedict Bridgerton

dom!Benedict slapping & choking you

drunken pussy eating

threesome with Benedict & Tilley

passionate missionary with husband!Benedict

being his good little slut

⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡

— Colin Bridgerton

gentle and sweet fucking on your honeymoon

body worship

making Colin cum all over your pussy

getting stretched out around Colin’s fingers

sharing his cock with Penelope

⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡

— Eloise Bridgerton

sleepover at the Bridgerton house

overstimulating sub!Eloise

friendly make out session

Eloise playfully slapping your wet pussy

teasing her tits

⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡

— Penelope Bridgerton

riding Penelope’s fingers

her playing with your pussy in the bathroom of a ball

Pen riding your face

Penelope eating your ass from the back

taking a break from the laundry to have a little fun

⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡

Tagging people from vol 1 in case you’d like this one too

@lemonlime101 @syraxnyra @chesireleah1999 @fandoms-are-my-hOme @peterholland04 @mandiefrance @blckbarbiedoll @aria-reads @dr3am-girl-14 @ryrywrites @instanttimetravelcherryblossom @noakroontje @cheryyluv @ashcal99 @nrmnie @dat-bit @photographerkaiya0306 @fangirlcrazy13 @giuliamunson @itsriabby @bemyyclementine @sarahskywalker-amidala @amalfoyandariddle @animeandobeymefandom @bubblyabs @lilymaleshka @rikkisdreams @iheartyvesss @planets-and-stars @xomarryamox @sometimesminsan @bookbased @Vicde4ngellslover @remuslupinwifee

[babeyun]

falling alone ✩ l.hs [m]

⇢ part of the modus operandi series! synopsis: cold cases were heeseung’s specialty, and he cracked every single one. cold hearts were your specialty, and you have yet to make a single chip in your husband’s. genre: established relationship au ; strained lovers. angst, fluff, smut pairing: lieutenant!lee heeseung x therapist!housewife!reader (i love plot twists) word count: 39.5k rating: 18+. minors please do not interact. warnings: for realism purposes, everyone is aged up (22-29 ; not my favorite but it is what it is.) strained marriage/relationship dynamics, workaholic dynamics, toxic relationship dynamics that are not meant to be romanticized. talks of therapy, food mentions, birth control mention, talks of having a family. detailed descriptions of disappearances, missing persons, etc. y/n feels neglected (girl STAND UP). sex as a temporary fix, swearing, alcohol, smoking. unrequited love, lots of pining on both ends. smut warnings: multiple scenes (two and a half...just read it), heeseung has a thing for y/n in business attire, petnames (baby, babe, princess, etc.,) unexplored daddy kink, heavy petting, frottage, slight body worship (m&f.rec.) nipple play, light spanking, oral (m&f. rec), squirting, lots of pillowtalk, marking, dom/sub dynamics, hair pulling, slight degrading/praise, handholding during sex (because i'm soft so what), switch!hee x switch!yn, unprotected sex (don't do this), doggy, missionary (not a babeyun fic if it's not missionary and body worship, i fear) creampie (i hate this word so bad.) i think that's it! what to listen to: falling - harry styles ; tu falta de querer - mon laferte ; seasons - dawn, gemini ; stardust - ben webster ; my foolish heart - bill evans trio ; no song without you - honne ; take me - miso ; say - keshi ; may i have this dance - francis & the lights ; unchained melody - the righteous brothers ; can't take my eyes off you - frankie valli ; can this morning never end - davin kingston ; too good - christian kuria ; u send me swingin' - mint condition ; you and me - lifehouse. author's note: it's finally fucking here, SEVEN MONTHS later. i cannot believe my life took such a turn that my original timeline of getting these all out back out to back turned into me ghosting the internet. this being said, i really hope you guys enjoy the push and pull that are heeseung and y/n in this. they're insane but they're in love and that's all that matters. special thanks to my dearest @enhaven for all her encouragement and kind words. star dividers by @/saradika here on tumblr!

Friday, 9:23PM.

 "Late night?" Your voice has always been a comfort to him. The way you cooked dinner every night, the way you washed his hair for him, the way you laid in bed with him – it was all comforting. Your soft eyes, eyes that hadn't seen an inch of a crime scene. Your gentle hands, hands that would never cock a gun and aim to kill.

You were home to him, and he hated that he couldn't leave his work at the precinct. He always brought it with him, anywhere he went…anywhere you were.

"Not really. Caught a session with Dr. Bahng, I'm sorry about dinner." He loosens his tie, trying to ignore the way your eyes follow his fingers. He takes his wedding ring off for work – insisting it snags on the gloves when gathering evidence, that he never wants to sully it with such grime. "How was your night?" Your sigh may be inward, but his eyes catch everything. Every frustrated twitch of your brows, the way your nose crinkles at the half-assed apology. Your eyes linger on the linoleum floor, and he fights the urge to pull you into his arms. He fights the urge to show any weakness to your feelings, he can't let go of work. He has to be strong, he has to be coarse, he has to be cold.

"It was…fine." You wave him off, moving to take the full plates off the table. Only then does Heeseung notice that you're still in your jeans, your white top neatly tucked into them. Your feet are clad in fresh socks, almost as if you were about to go out when he arrived. His eyes scan you as you move around, pulling his tie completely off and bunching it into his pocket. "Are you going out with your friends?" You don't reply as you scrape the cold food into the trash can, and he focuses on the sound of your bracelet lightly clinking with the handle of the fork. Your shoulders sag, soft curls of your hair sweeping over your face as you move to place the dishes in the sink. He sighs, before his legs move him behind you. "Why are you upset, honey?" "I'm not, I'm not upset." You scoff, turning the tap to hot when you feel Heeseung's hands ghost over your waist. You knew better than to attempt to hide anything from him, especially with the way his brain was literally trained to analyze your every movement. His lips press softly to your cheek as his fingers untuck your top, "I know you better than that." You're silent as his fingertips trace the soft skin of your stomach, his chin resting on your shoulder. He's going to wait until you decide you want to talk, despite knowing it will be the same argument you have every single week.

The same argument that always ends up unresolved as you kiss in your bed, sheets tangled between your bodies. It's enough to hold off on actually talking about it, it's enough to semi-satisfy the lack of attention you got from him during the week. It wasn't enough to feed his unvoiced, almost insatiable hunger for you, and how he wished he could just douse you in his love and affection until the sun rose. It wasn't nearly enough, because he'd still have to pry himself from the comfort of your warm embrace to step foot in the precinct and inhale the stench of evil in the world.

He felt awful, really. That he could never truly show you how much he loved you, how emotionally constipated his job made him…how his sessions with Dr. Bahng were no longer of much help. "Leave work at work, Lieutenant. You have the love of your life waiting for you at home." He had it memorized at this point.

"It's always the same thing, don't worry about it." You turn the tap off, feeling the guilt about wasting water seeping into your stomach. You weren't going to wash the dishes, you knew you weren't. You just wanted to lay down in bed with your husband, basking in the few minutes of attention he'd be able to give you before falling asleep. 

"Baby." You wince at the pet name, one so foreign on his lips. One you so rarely heard, long lost in your college memories. You grimace as you turn in his hold, his hands now resting on your hips. "Don't baby me, Heeseung." "Don't Heeseung me, Y/N. I know something is bothering you, and whether it's tonight, tomorrow, or next week – I'm not letting you go to bed like this." He looks at you through tousled locks, his eyes speaking for him. Just talk to me.

You shake your head in subtle disbelief, attempting to push past him when he pins you against the counter gently. "Let me go, Heeseung." "Not until you tell me what's going on." His voice is harsh, one he also rarely uses with you. Heeseung was always gentle, soft-spoken. "I've been at work all day, dealing with shit I can barely stomach. I just want to come home and spend time with you, what's wrong?" He's starting to whine, and it does nothing but make your eyes sting with tears.

"I just want to spend time with you, without having to beg you for it." You breathe out, squeezing your eyes shut to avoid his gaze. "You remember everything, Hee. I know you had to remember that tonight is date night." Sighing, you peel your eyes open to a guilty husband watching you with his own tired ones.

"I'm sorry, honey. It really did slip my mind. Let me…let me just take a shower and we can go have a night on the town, okay?" He starts to walk away, fingers pulling at the buttons of his shirt when you clear your throat. "It's fine, Heeseung. Let's just go to bed."

"No, let me fix this. We haven't had dinner, and we haven't spent time together in weeks." He slips his dress shirt off as he leaves your line of vision, and you just slump against the counter. He was right, and you hated that you knew he was. Heeseung was always this way, though, shouldn't you be used to it by now?

Yes, he was gentle and soft-spoken, with a touch of dirty humor and thoughtfulness that always made your heart race a little faster. Your relationship was built on a lot of comfort and deep talks, ones that usually involved you unraveling yourself entirely just to get a taste of his own secrets. The two of you had met in college, about three days after the disappearance of his childhood best friend, Cha Soyoung.

Heeseung was even more cold and stoic, and wasn't interested in so much as even befriending you. He didn't really speak, which according to his friends, was unnatural. They wound up being close friends of yours as well, thanks to Park Sunghoon, and the seven of them all also ended up working at the same precinct. "Heeseung talks…a lot. Not as much as Jay, but he's just going through a hard time right now." Sunghoon said as he sipped his drink, carefully chewing the tapioca pearls as the two of you walked. "It's not everyday your best friend of twenty years goes missing, you know?"You had shrugged, not really understanding what it was like. Your parents had moved you around a lot as a kid, and it was hard to make friends until they finally settled when you got into your last year of high school. You had met Sunghoon there, but only met the rest of your friends through him that following summer – except Heeseung. He'd gone home with Soyoung for the summer, returning to Seoul for the fall semester at Decelis University with her and your other friends. You still never spoke, until now.

You and Sunghoon were swinging by his dorm to help pass out flyers.

"Hey, Hoon. Y/N." Heeseung spoke quietly as he opened the door, his eyes nearly swollen shut from crying for the past three days. Your jaw dropped as you looked at his face, not at all recognizing the boy in front of you. Sure, you'd only ever seen pictures of Heeseung but you knew enough to know that this…wasn't him. Neither you nor Sunghoon spoke as Heeseung moved for the two of you to follow him, shutting the door behind you.

"How are you feeling?" Sunghoon asked as he trashed his drink, your own now sweating on a coaster on Heeseung's coffee table as the man gathered things around his dorm. You stood awkwardly as you swung your backpack onto the couch, opening it for Heeseung to slide the flyers in when you saw him shake his head. 

"I don't feel much, actually." 

Sunghoon glanced at you, but your legs moved before you could think. You rounded the table to Heeseung, who looked at your extended arms and empathetic eyes with cold ones. He'd set down the papers in his hands, fingers splayed across them momentarily before turning back to you and awkwardly entering your embrace. Your fingers easily found the nape of his neck, and his rigid form quickly softened as he breathed shakily into your shoulder. "M'Sorry." He mumbled as you felt a few tears soak through your shirt, and you just shook your head. 

Sunghoon also wound up wrapping his arms around the two of you. Something about the way that Heeseung's fingers clawed at your sides, and the way he sobbed into your shirt made you wonder how long he'd needed someone. Someone to ease the knot in his stomach, someone to help him see that this was something that would be solved and everything would be okay again. Someone to help him hop along until Soyoung was found, and someone to leave when she inevitably took her place again.

That was nine years ago. You and Heeseung began dating a year after that happened, a couple of months after the anniversary of Soyoung's disappearance. The police stopped looking, ruling her case as a runaway. You and Heeseung never stopped searching – you frequently asked cafe owners if you could pin missing posters on their corkboards, and even went door to door every few evenings asking if anyone had seen Soyoung. 

Heeseung had made it to the side of the law, and frequently reviewed the case to see if he had missed anything. He never had – you had all hit a dead end. Everyone's hope began to dwindle, but Heeseung never let that sway him. He even asked the forensics department to make age-progression posters, and they did. You'd pinned those up, too.

He was strong willed, he was diligent, he was determined. You love Heeseung, you love the person he is…

…But you hate that he can't leave his work at work. You hate that you get a crumb of his affection every few nights, whether it's his lips pressed against your cheek after dinner or his teeth nipping at your clavicle while hovering above you in bed. You hate that you find yourself longing for him even more than you did in college, despite now having him in the deepest way – as your husband, the person who loves you. 

The man who shed a singular tear as he watched you walk down the aisle, the man who supported you when your career wasn't what you expected. The man who endlessly told you he loved you in ways that weren't so evident to the naked eye – like leaving the warm water for you and showering in the ice cold, leaving the last slice of cake for you, rubbing your feet while watching Law and Order with you on days he didn't work (read: on days you pried him out of the home office.)

Heeseung loves you, you know that. You just can't shake the feeling that it won't be for much longer.

"Tuck in your shirt."

His voice snaps you out of your trance, and you look up to see your husband now unrolling a pair of clean socks, speaking around a wide toothed comb between his teeth. He drapes the socks over the back of a chair, eyes glued to his reflection in the hallway mirror as he combs through his hair quickly. 

Rolling your eyes, you tuck in your shirt haphazardly as he parts his hair down the middle. "You can't go out with your hair wet, you'll get sick." You call as you make your way down to the bathroom, pulling open one of the cabinets to fish out your hair dryer. "I don't have time to dry my hair. In sickness and health, anyway." Heeseung yells down the hall, and you bite back your chuckle.

"But why make yourself sick? Sit, I'll dry it while you put on your socks." You untangle the cord, plugging it into the wall as Heeseung pouts. "The sound makes me sleepy! If I'm sleepy, we can't go out." He shakes his head, and you put a hand on your hip as you give him a pointed look. He sighs, tugging a chair towards you and plopping down.

"You're throwing a tantrum like a child. Mom, I don't want to wear my coat! Mom, I don't want my peas touching my mashed potato!" You mock his behavior, making him sulk further into the chair and creasing his shirt. "Sit up!"

He does, and watches you through the mirror as you carefully comb your fingers through his hair. He wonders why you forgive him so easily, why you do these things for him when he doesn't feel like he deserves it. The wasted dinner, the way you roll his socks after doing his laundry (that he insists he can do himself.) He wonders what he's done to make you love him so dearly.

"Where d'you wanna go? Olive You More? Thyme for Love?" His voice leaves the sulky attitude behind, as your fingers card through his damp hair, and you grimace. "Why are all our favorite restaurants so cheesy? It's disgusting." "Well, we could try that new one down by the river. Pasta La Vista, I think it's called." He taps his lips with his fingers, and you catch the glint of his gold wedding band snuggled around his left ring finger. You ignore the way your heart flutters, as you lightly smack his shoulder. "No more pun restaurants! We're not in college anymore." "Ah, but I love going to those places with you. I.." The words get caught in Heeseung's throat, as they always do. He always feels like he's saying it for the very first time, just like he did all those years ago in the middle of the woods. You got stuck in a blackberry bush, and it just slipped out.

"You..?" You ask, looking at him through the mirror. Your eyes are full of concern, a look he never stops seeing. It bothers him. "I love you." He mumbles shyly, looking away to pick at his cuticles. He doesn't see the gentle smile on your glossed lips, and feels your soft hair brush his neck as you lean to kiss his cheek. 

"Mmh, I would hope so." "Yah, say it back." He pouts as he turns to face you, and you can only smile wider before you place a chaste kiss on his lips. "I don't need to, you know who my heart calls home. Now, get up. We've got a delicious pasta dinner to inhale, and breadsticks to steal." He doesn't ask you to say it back again, only watching as you walk away with a skip in your step. He knows, he does. He knows you love him, he knows your heart calls him home. He knows you love him.

He's just worried it won't be for much longer.

Saturday, 10:32am.

"Good morning." Your voice is raspy with sleep, eyes still slightly shut as you whisper into his skin. It's a God-given miracle that he's still in bed next to you, instead of slipping out early like a college hookup. 

Unfortunately, that happened more often than not. "Have we always had such shitty curtains? I can't sleep with so much light." He groans, tugging your arm over his head as he moves to snuggle into your chest. His breathing softens as you pull him slightly closer, wrapping your arms fully around his head and shoulders. "Mmh, if you were still in bed by the time I woke up for the day, you'd know." "You know I can't be." He sighs, and you feel the ticklish sensation of his lips feathering over your clavicle. His teeth tug lightly at your necklace, one he gave you for your second anniversary, months after the wedding. He loves that you never take it off. 

"It's not a matter of if you can, it's a matter of if you want to." "Don't pull that, you know I do." He kisses your skin before burying his face into your neck. "I'd never leave this bed if it were up to me." His teeth are once more doing their oh-so routine nipping at the exposed skin of your shoulder, before you shift out of his reach. "We should get breakfast."

You turn onto your back, stretching your arms above your head with a soft yawn. Though blurred with fatigue, your eyes see Heeseung perfectly, his head resting lightly on your stomach. His fingers toy with the waistband of your underwear, thumb slightly slipping beneath to rub at the skin of your hip. Your tattoo peeks through, one Heeseung never lets you forget you have. His faded initials mock the both of you. "Or, counter offer: you can be my breakfast." 

You snort, propping yourself up your elbows to get a good look at the man now in your lap. He's pressing soft kisses around your navel, eyelashes fluttering slowly as his lips pepper around your warm skin. "Hee, you barely ate dinner."

"I've barely eaten you. I'm a man deprived, please?" His eyes finally peer up at you, and you scoff out a laugh, running a hand through your mussed curls. You shake your head as you tongue your cheek, allowing him to pull at the hem of your panties once more. "I'm not above begging, if that's what it takes. You know I'll do it." "Just take them off, you big baby. You're cheesy as shit, too." You roll your eyes as he grins, a playful bite to your outer thigh as he begins to move you around as he pleases. 

"Open." He kneels on the bed, knuckles rapping on your knees to part them. You can't help but roll your eyes again, but comply as he tugs down your underwear. It flies somewhere across the room, forgotten in a corner to gather dust, Heeseung completely unaware as he lies on his stomach.

"I've missed this." He sighs, before placing a chaste kiss on your inner thigh. "I miss you, most of all. I promise I'll be home earlier this week, baby." He doesn't give you a chance to respond as his tongue quickly finds home between your legs, softly licking at every inch he can reach. Your lip is tucked beneath your teeth, fingers grabbing at anything you can…

When his phone starts ringing. He groans into your skin, the vibrations making you shiver as disappointment takes over. He ignores the sound, choosing to pull you closer onto his face when you push his shoulder with your foot. "Just answer it, Hee." "I don't want to." His voice is muffled as his tongue collects your forming arousal, a soft moan from his throat as you squirm in his hold. "H-Hee, what if it's important?" "What if it's not? What could possibly be more important than you and I at this very moment?" His eyes are filled with a mix of annoyance and desire as he rests his cheek against your thigh. You hate the pitiful groan that escapes your lips as you reach for his phone, answering it for him. "Work." 

Sighing, he moves off the bed as he takes the call, motioning for you to stay as he speaks. "Go for Lee."

Complying, you simply become a jellyfish of a human, sprawled across your bed. You wonder why you answered the phone for him, why you pushed him to take the call. It bothers you that even now, you have begun prioritizing his work over your relationship, when you both promised each other that your love, affections and time for each other would never dwindle.

You can't say it has, though, at least for you. You love Heeseung, one could even say that distance has made your heart grow fonder. Not seeing him often has made you a bit more independent, and every time you find yourself eating dinner at the table alone, you're reminded of your mother. 

How she berated you for marrying for love and not stability, how she shamed you for abandoning the career that drained you of everything you had. You dislike how easy it was for her to get into your head, so much so that you'd spent all of yesterday applying for new jobs in your field, while waiting for Heeseung to get home – and hopefully have your regular date night.

Not that he was even around to have said date. Sure, he made it up to you…but at what cost?

As you begin to sink into your spiraling thoughts, Heeseung reappears in the doorway of your bedroom. He doesn't speak loud enough for you to hear as he beelines for the closet – a mumble of frustrations spilling from his lips as he rips a shirt off its hanger. Turning on your side, you cover your lower half with the blanket that's no longer warm before speaking to him. "Duty calls, huh?" "Yes." 

In silence, you watch as he buttons his shirt, the muted teal making his skin glow softly. He doesn't look you in the eyes as he revisits the closet, tugging on his favorite pair of brown slacks. A pair you made for him a few years ago, right after leaving your job – and you remember the way his eyes lit up as you presented them. You remember the way he kissed each of your fingertips that night, covered with bandaids from pin pricks. You remember returning home the next day from a girls' day with Chaewon, to find a packet of colorful silicone thimbles, and a few more pieces of glittery, cream-colored fabric laid out on your bed.

Fabric he'd used to make you a dress, with flutter sleeves and a deep v-neckline. Fabric he'd used to sit and carefully hand-stitch the flowy sarong skirt. When did he find the time? He hadn't given you much of a chance to ask questions, before he insisted you put it on and let him take you out for a nice dinner.

It was the last time the two of you truly connected on something deeper than his work or your convenient unemployment. It was the last time that the two of you genuinely laughed together and did things from your younger years, like dancing in the twilight to no music and kissing in every corner possible on the walk home. The last time you wore his favorite perfume, because after that, months passed without a second thought about you.

The silence between you has grown neutral – not entirely comfortable, because who wants to spend their days without hearing the love of their life speak to them? Laugh with them, maybe even get into a bit of a spat with them that shows your relationship is becoming more than just the bare minimum? Certainly not you, and by the way Heeseung robotically loops his tie while staring you down in the mirror, a look of longing in his eyes before turning to you.

"I won't be long, I promise." 

He notes the way your head tilts, the way an understanding smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes takes over your face. "Don't worry, take your time." The way your hair is effortlessly splayed around your head, life's odd attempt at recreating the halo to represent the absolute angel you are. One Heeseung doesn't deserve.

You get up, swinging your bare legs over the side of the bed before grabbing for your bath towel. "I'll get ready for my day, and maybe…" You trail off as your toes touch his shoes – he wore them in the house sometimes, a habit of his you despised. 

"And maybe we can catch lunch together?" He finishes, a shy smile crossing his lips as you place a gentle kiss on his cheek. His arm snakes across your naked waist, fingers lightly pinching your hip as you smile into his skin.

"Maybe. Drive safe."

Heeseung knows that Dr. Bahng told him to leave work at work. However, Dr. Bahng said nothing about bringing home to work. He said nothing about thinking about you at work, or missing you, or daydreaming about you instead of analyzing the reports that a pair of rookies messed up. He also said nothing about reading articles by some sketchy romance columnist on how to keep your relationship alive, which is exactly what Heeseung was scrolling through right now. 

There are things in a relationship that must always be shared in order to avoid, or resolve conflict. How the other person is making you feel, how you are making them feel, and how to tackle both negative checklists properly. It is key to always remember that it must be you and your partner against the problem, not you and your partner against each other.

You make Heeseung feel…alive. You make him feel loved, cherished, and even at some bizarre times, worshiped. You make him appreciate waking up at the ass crack of dawn, your sleeping face relaxed as he peppers kisses across your warm skin – something he's thankful never manages to wake you up, but it adds to all the adoration he holds in his heart for you.

How does he make you feel? Dejected, neglected, rejected. Pushed aside for the true love of his life – work. You never bring it up unless he asks. You never brought it up until last July, when he was slumped in his office chair after drinking half a bottle of sherry whiskey, listening to music and thinking about yet another dead end that deterred him from finding Soyoung. You had approached him with a gentle gaze, a soft touch to his shoulder and asking about taking a shower together. You never questioned him, you never pressured him, you never tried to make him something you assumed he just wasn't – an attentive, doting husband.

And he remembers how he asked you, too. He remembers spinning around in his chair, stoically asking you if he was everything you'd ever wanted. Asking you if he was living up to your expectations, as a husband, as a life partner, as a friend, even.

And he remembers the way you sighed carefully before perching on his desk. "You're everything I've ever wanted, and I'm sure you'll continue to grow and be even more deserving of the love I hold for you." You had smiled, your hand coming to rest on his cheek. "Nothing we can't work through, you know? If I was given a choice in another life, another world – I'd still choose you."

He will never forget it, and he can still feel the warmth of your lips against his as you led him to the bathroom. He can still feel the ache of your love on his skin from the way you held him under the running water, quietly basking in his presence as the mint of your shampoo filled his nose. Nothing is as special to him as you are. 

There are things that should routinely be shared in order to maintain a homeostasis of the calendar. Asking how their day was, if you have any ideas for dinner tonight, or if you'd like to do something this weekend to celebrate the mundane. It shouldn't be difficult to establish a routine with your partner, if you are in tune with them. A kiss goodbye in the morning, a warm embrace in the evenings. A shared meal, a shared bath, a shared bed. 

Heeseung can't remember the last time he fully checked in with you – you always have something to do. You always attempt new creative projects, and his fingers toy with the fabric of his slacks as he remembers that you hand stitched them. He thinks about how you waited for him all night yesterday, and the disappointment you must have felt when he arrived late. He thinks about how he just doesn't make time to tackle the problem that you two are constantly glossing over by being intimate – he knows you don't feel loved. 

He didn't ask you about your day yesterday, or the day before, or last week. He didn't ask you if you were sewing anything new, learning any new pieces on the piano collecting dust in the living room. He hasn't asked about your mother, but at least he knows you don't like to talk about her. 

Heeseung hasn't asked you a single thing about yourself, or your life in a while – and he doesn't know how long it's been. Even last night, your eyes were focused entirely on him – the way his lips twitched when you said you liked the wine he chose, the way he pulled your leg over his in the booth you were sharing. You asked him about work, and he just shook his head as he pointed out the new menu items. 

You love him so selflessly.

Something that works for my partner and I is parallel play. We aren't necessarily doing something together, but we are present in the same room and doing our own thing. Knowing that he is there, and that if I need him, I can reach for him, adds a comfort to our relationship. Aside from this, we also come together every two weeks and address any issues we may be experiencing – both in our relationship and our individual lives. We resolve the issues about us together, and advise the other on our personal issues. Balance!

You do this a lot. If Heeseung is home, you'll wander to wherever he is and sit down where you can, and quietly go about your business. Sometimes it's a new cross-stitch, sometimes it's just putting a headphone in and listening to music. Sometimes you're giving yourself a pedicure, sometimes you're just sitting there staring at his corkboard of paraphernalia while matching your breathing to his. It was subtle, something you thought he'd never notice.

He sighs, exiting out of the tab before grabbing his coat off the back of his chair. Tugging it on, he uses one hand to log out of his computer when he hears three knocks on the door. A lightness of the rapping knuckles similar to yours…and your smiling face appears as you crack open the door. "Surprise?" He hates that he can't bite back his smile, a few of his fellow officers wide-eyed at his expression. He nods silently, and you extend your hand for him when you hear his coworkers whispering about you. With a dejected look, you tuck your hand back into the pocket of your jeans, "Guess we don't want them gossiping, right?" "Right." He mumbles, his own hand twitching around the doorknob as he pulls it shut behind him. He wants to reach for you, embrace the warmth you bring, show you off to the people he often calls his friends. Sunghoon catches his eye, a quizzical look on his face before shaking his head. 

Heeseung reaches for you, but you've already made your way towards the door. Your smile has lessened as you open the door, holding it for him. "How was work?" You ask as he joins you in the cool air, and he wastes no time wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you in close, his nose buried in your hair. You hesitate to wrap your arms around him, instead leaning back to try and meet his eyes. "Hee?" "Don't ask me about work." He mutters, before pressing his lips to yours softly. You let out a noise of surprise, but you can't melt into his touch before he pulls away. "I hate talking about work, let's talk about you. Over lunch." He takes your hand in his, gently pulling you to his side as he makes his way to the car. He doesn't see yours in the parking lot, so he only assumes you got a rideshare before you clear your throat.

"Are you okay?" The words are slightly jumbled as he leads you to the passenger side, opening the door for you, helping you step in. "Hm? Why do you ask?" "Well…you're actually out of the office. And you want to go to lunch…and you don't want to talk about work?" Your voice is meek, and it makes his chest ache as he reaches to buckle your seatbelt in for you. "I just want to spend time with you. Shall we?" His smile is a little forced, until he sees the soft gloss of embarrassment over your eyes.  "Okay."

Tuesday, 6:23pm.

You don't really know what snapped inside of Heeseung over the weekend. He even took Monday off, turning off his phone after calling in sick and snuggling back into your embrace. He spent all of Sunday asking you random questions throughout the day, wandering around the house as you tried to pick up to start the week off fresh. He would hold the laundry basket so you could separate the clothing, he would hold the step stool so you could dust the corners of the living room – he even re-caulked the window in your bedroom because you were sitting at your vanity doing your makeup. He seemed restless to get all of these answers out of you, and while you didn't mind, you knew this attention was only temporary.

Duty called, after all.

However…he was home earlier than usual. He typically had his session with Dr. Bahng right after dinner time, but it seems your habit of making two portions is deemed fruitful tonight. He's sitting in front of you, having arrived home thirty minutes prior – showered and ready to share a meal with you. Just like he did this weekend, just like he did when your relationship first started out.

You remember sharing meals with him in your dorm room. Your roommate was almost never there, always spending time with her girlfriend – so you had free range of the entire place. Heeseung slept over almost every night, and the two of you would stay up at all hours of the night – whether it was discussing 80s cold cases or your major.

Your major…it wasn't necessarily hard. It was one of those things that was only difficult if you didn't really like it, if you didn't have a passion for it. It was one of those things that took someone strong, both mind and body. You wanted to help better the world, see how things could change at your fingertips. You wanted to eat the world in one bite, and it simply wasn't possible – no matter your hard-earned master's degree or your passion for helping people. It was a time of realization – and it was funny, that you had the same qualifications as Dr. Bahng, but your career would never bear fruit like his.

You never really made a difference, like Dr. Bahng did. You didn't even get through to your husband like he did.

So when you came home one night a few years ago and saw Heeseung sitting at the table, waiting for you, you wondered if any of the people you helped that day would ever get to live content. You quit the very next day, your mind tortured over people you didn't know and things you couldn't control. It took a while before you got out of your head again – and even longer before you finally left your bed. It was this time when your relationship with Heeseung really tried to prove itself worthy of your time and effort – because though he wasn't home with you, to soothe your swirling anxieties and racing mind throughout the day, he was there.

He was there, with plates of fruit and warm tea. He was there, with a hairbrush gently forking through your matted hair. He was there, letting you cry yourself to sleep in his embrace and leaving early the next morning, with bags under his eyes. He understood, somehow, that you needed him more than ever before in those moments, and it seemed like that version of Heeseung was starting to reemerge – this time, without need.

"Are you hiding something from me?" You blurt, and Heeseung nearly chokes on his bite of food. Coughing, he reaches for his glass of water as you pat his back, offering him a napkin to wipe his lip. Taking a sip of water, he looks at you. "We haven't spoken all day and that's how you start a conversation?" He seems amused, a look you don't see on him often anymore. You can feel the heat of embarrassment crawling up your throat, and he pushes his plate forward, choosing to fold his hands on the table before he clears his throat. "I realize…I haven't been the best husband." You can feel your eyes begin to roll, when he taps the table. "I have never been very good to you, and yet, you've stood by me. Through ups, downs…you helped me out of a very dark place when Soyoung went missing." He clears his throat again, and your eyes catch the way he blinks back a few tears. "And I've given you near nothing in return." "Marriage is not transactional." You say gently, and he shakes his head. "Isn't it, though? In the eight years we've been together, you've given me so much. You take care of me, of our home. You…You can just do it all, and I admire it. I really, really do." He runs a hand through his hair, before reaching for your hand. You allow him to take it, and you hate to admit that a bit of skepticism is beginning to settle in your stomach. 

"Why are you saying all of this? It's never mattered before, you know." Heeseung can sense something in your tone that you don't seem to catch. A hint of…frustration, anger, maybe even resentment. He knows you probably have more to say, and that whatever it was would most likely hurt his feelings.

He kind of wants you to, though, and you do – letting go of his hand. He folds them, his plate abandoned in order to take you in fully.

"Do you not want to talk about this? I can drop it, but it'll just come back up, honey." He asks gently, his head tilted to the side as he scans your face. You suck on your teeth, your fork pushing your food around before you sigh. "Maybe you're right." "About?" He straightens, his hands still folded on the table. You give him a guilty look, though he doesn't know what you could possibly have to feel guilty about. 

"You're right, you haven't been the best husband. Hell, I don't think you've ever even really been a good husband, if we're being honest about it." 

Heeseung doesn't react, and doesn't allow his face to move as you speak. He's finally broken the dam, because now you're rambling and you can't seem to stop.

"Was it ever going to be me, I mean, really? They say that being good to the people you love really takes no effort, that it's not hard to be doting and attentive to the person you love. You have such a hard time being here for me, you have the worst time detaching yourself from work and the cases you see everyday. You come home at whatever time is convenient for you, while I wait for you like an idiot." You blurt, and Heeseung breathes in carefully, so as to not startle you. He nods, closing his eyes.

He can sense the impending lump in your throat. He's never really seen you get angry – frustrated, irritated, even annoyed have all been emotions he's both seen and enticed. You've never been angry, you've never exploded on anybody.

"Do you ever think what your life would be like if Soyoung were still around?" 

His eyes snap open at this, brow furrowing slightly but either you don't notice or don't seem to care, because you keep going.

"Do you think you'd even care about me if she was here? I get it, she's your best friend, maybe even the love of your life. I wouldn't blame you at all if I was just a placeholder until she was found." 

He's watching your face as you speak, the way your lower lip trembles slightly and your chest rises and falls in shallow breathing. Your hands shake as you reach for the plate in front of him, shoving it under your own before standing up.

His chest aches at the idea of you thinking that anyone but you could ever be the love of his life, but can't bring himself to open his mouth and tell you.

"As shitty as it sounds, the more the years pass, the more I hope she's found. Maybe then you will truly have someone to love, someone who will fulfill your needs just as you like. Maybe then I won't have to pretend that I don't know I'm second to someone who isn't around." You murmur, and Heeseung feels his stomach churn a bit as you stand, taking the plates to the kitchen. You place them in the sink, holding the cool metal of the basin before turning back to him.

"I love you, Heeseung. I loved you then, I love you now, and I may love you for the rest of my life." You speak softly, stepping back to the table. You lean on the back of a chair, the necklace hanging around your neck mocking him in the dim light. "But me loving you, will never make you truly happy. I don't need you to tell me, you know? Knowing I can keep you company, knowing that you won't be alone, is fine with me. You don't need to love me."

You smile gently, the gloss on your lips sparkling. It's one of his favorites, it tastes like vanilla.

"You don't need to love me the way I love you, for me to know you care. So, don't worry about it. You don't need to check in with me, you don't need to…reciprocate." You shrug, taking the cups off the table, and turning back to the kitchen. You stop, looking over your shoulder. "And, Heeseung?" He can't bring himself to speak. He tries to clear his throat, but you proceed anyway.  "Don't forget date night this Friday."

Thursday, 12:46pm.

You'd dropped by the precinct randomly, seeing Heeseung hunched over his computer from the entrance. The new receptionist asked you who you were here to see, and you gave his name, holding up the bag of food you brought with you. 

"Lieutenant Lee doesn't take visitors." The receptionist rolls her eyes, and you hear Sunghoon before you see him. "Minseo, this is the Lieutenant's wife."

You whirl around to see your long-time friend, who smiles down at you. "Good to see you again. Dr. Lee." He speaks politely, making Minseo blush furiously as she prints a pass for you. She apologizes profusely, but you just shake your head and give her a warm smile, adjusting your purse on your shoulder.

"How're you, Hoon?" You ask as you paste the sticker onto your jacket, and he shrugs as he drapes his arm over your shoulders. "Could be better, could be worse. However, I did hear from a little bird that you and Heeseung got into a fight." Rolling your eyes, you know that Sunghoon is just stirring the pot. He seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to your relationship with Heeseung – seeing as he was the one who got the two of you together in the first place. 

"We didn't…ugh, we didn't fight. We just…had a conversation. I'll tell you about it, when are you off? We can get dinner." You say as the two of you reach Heeseung's office. He shakes his head.

"Don't put me in the middle. I'll text you though, we do need to catch up." He says, knocking on Heeseung's door for you. You hear your husband's tired voice, and Sunghoon opens the door. "You've got a special visitor." 

You don't miss the way Heeseung's exhausted eyes look up at you, lighting up the moment they land on your face. You almost crack a smile at this, before Sunghoon shoves you in lightly. "Enjoy your lunch, Lieutenant." Heeseung doesn't say anything. The two of you hadn't really spoken since Tuesday night, and he certainly didn't expect you to come by today. Or any day, really…he remembered the first time you ever dropped by the precinct. He'd welcomed you with a tight smile, before asking you to let him know beforehand next time. You didn't do it again, for years.

"Mind if I close these?" You ask, gesturing to the blinds, and he shrugs. He doesn't close out any of his tabs as you set the food down, kneeling on the couch lining the wall to close his blinds. He takes this moment to take you in. You were wearing his favorite dress on you, the pink one with the white-lined circle seams. You're shrugging off your jacket now that the blinds are closed, draping it over the chair in front of his desk. "I brought you lunch, I hope that's okay. I probably should have called ahead." You gesture to the bag on the table, but his eyes just peer over the monitor, his brow twitching up as you sit gingerly on the edge of the couch. He hadn't cleared up or refuted any of your points on Tuesday, but the guilt he felt that night was enough to make him sleep in the guest room. He didn't know that didn't make you feel any better, in your mind it just cemented your opinions as you let your pillow soak up a few stray tears. 

"You look gorgeous." He murmurs as you unpack quietly, uncapping containers and sniffing them to figure out what is what. You stop, holding a bowl of broth to your face when you register what he said. "What?" "I said, you look gorgeous." He repeats himself, quickly typing up a rather unprofessional email to the rest of the precinct and letting them know he'd be leaving after lunch. He shoots it off, exiting the tab before standing up and stretching. His shirt is messily untucked, and he can feel your eyes on him as he twists to relax his back muscles. "Thank you…I think." He shrugs, ignoring the pang in his chest at your uncertainty before glancing over the array of food you'd brought with you. You seem a bit unsure about it all, but they're all his favorite dishes. He doesn't see any of yours – no soft tofu stew, no cold noodles, not even the tea you like. He keeps scanning your face as you prepare everything silently.

"Have you eaten already? I know you don't like any of these dishes." He asks, squatting next to you. You smile down at him, shrugging. "I'll eat at home. You left breakfast on the table this morning, so I figured you'd be hungry."

He had left breakfast on the table, but not for the reason you think. His morning routine consisted of showering, brushing his teeth and washing his face, putting his clothes on and, as creepy as it sounds, staring at you as you slept. He didn't kiss you this morning, like he usually did, but he desperately wanted to. So much so that he lost track of time just watching you sleep so peacefully, and had to run out of the house without it.

"I'm sorry, baby. I was in a rush." He pouts, and you just shake your head. "Don't worry about it. What's one day?"

It's everything. He thinks he feels your cold demeanor seep into his bones a bit, but your eyes are still warm as ever. Your smile doesn't reach your eyes, but your hand ruffles his hair lightly. He lifts slightly to sit next to you, and you press your lips to his cheek, your lipstick stamping on his skin. "You smell nice." He doesn't respond, his cheeks and ears tinging pink as you hand him utensils. Leaning back, you rest your head against the window sill, not noticing he's made no effort to even touch the food you've brought. Still, better now than never.

"I have something to tell you." You murmur, and he hums in response. 

"I figured about as much." He leans back with you, holding a rice cake between his teeth before shoving into his mouth. "Do tell, Dr. Lee." You stare at your manicured nails, the french tip suddenly bothersome to your eyes. "I had an interview this morning, at the fifth precinct. In the next town over. " 

He sits up, turning to face you completely. "Okay. How'd it go? I did hear that Dr. Park was retiring." Not a hint of malice in his voice, just pure curiosity. Encouragement, support.

"They said I can start next week. Three patients a day for two weeks, and then I will take over Dr. Park's patients as well. Well, those who want to transfer over." You don't know why you're nervous telling him this. His eyes scan your face, and you groan. "Why are you staring at me?" "You don't seem very happy about it." He says, tilting his head to the side as he bites into another rice cake. "I am happy about it. I just…it's a little far and I won't be home before you are on nights you're not set to see Dr. Bahng. I won't get to make dinner and I'll be out of the house before you are most days." 

You stop yourself from rambling, watching as Heeseung looks at you intently. He glances at the food spread out on the table, before shoving the other half of the rice cake he bit into his cheek. "C'mon."

He gets up, yanking his coat off the hanger by the door, before opening it. "Where are we going? Heeseung, the food-" "Sunghoon, lunch on me." He calls out the door, before grabbing your jacket off the chair and your purse. Looking at you, he watches as you sit still, confusion on your face before he walks over, draping your jacket over your shoulders. "C'mon, we've got to celebrate. We can go to that French place you love." 

Amused, you shove your arms through the sleeves of your jacket before standing. "Heeseung, you hate that place." Rolling your eyes, you reach for your purse, only for him to grab your hand and pull you in. His lips are on yours, a chaste kiss shared before he leans his forehead against yours.

"But I love you, and I'm proud of you. So let me show you, yeah?" 

You blink up at him, before hearing Sunghoon's grunt of feigned disgust. "C'mon, guys, not in the office!"

"Shut up, man." Heeseung rolls his eyes, lacing his fingers in yours, and you hear the soft clink of metal. Ignoring the bickering between the two men, you look down, you see his engraved wedding band gleaming up at you, having knocked with an old silver ring of his that you'd taken after it stopped fitting him. "You're wearing your ring." "Hm?" He glances down at you, before smiling. "Oh, yeah. I figured…I don't know. I like seeing it, it was silly of me to think the way I did about it."

Sunghoon scoffs at the sudden mushiness, and you look up to see half the precinct staring you down. Heeseung has your lipstick stamped on his cheek, and you feel embarrassed as the two of you get walked out by Sunghoon. Jungwon passes by, doing a double take when he sees the lipstick on your husband's face.

He smiles at you, a knowing look in his eyes as the two of you skirt past. Heeseung stops at the receptionist's desk, her smile disappearing the moment she sees your lipstick on his cheek. He asks her to cancel all his appointments for the day, and to let Captain Choi know that he would be taking the weekend off. She just nods, and Heeseung bids everyone goodbye with a whistle.

"She hates me, you know." You mumble, and he gives your hand a squeeze. “She can hate you all she wants, doesn’t change anything. Waste of her own energy.”

You don’t know what to make of this. In a way, you think you’ve forgotten your husband’s demeanor. Heeseung squeezes your hand again, "Where's your car? Did you take a rideshare?"

His brow is furrowed as he scours the parking lot for your sedan, and you shake your head. "Saving gas, I have quite the commute." He scrunches his nose, before shrugging as the two of you make your way to his car.

He opens the door for you quietly, helping you up and going as far as taking your purse to hang behind his headrest. You always complained about the feeling of the straps against your neck when you leaned your head back.

"So." He starts, his fingers carefully turning the volume dial down as the soft jazz station he plays on his commute bleeds through the speakers. "So…what?" "Why didn't you tell me you were thinking of going back to work? I thought we told each other everything." He says pointedly, as he makes a turn into the street. The light at the end is still green, if he speeds up a bit, he should make it. He sees you shrug out of the corner of his eye.

"Didn't think it'd be important. If I'm honest, I didn't think you'd notice." He doesn't like the twinge of sadness in your voice, but you clear your throat before he can mention it. "Should we take a walk later, as well? The weather feels great." "Yeah, honey. Whatever you want." He nods, his turn signal flicked by his ring finger, and he doesn't miss your eyes on his hands as he makes the turn. "Hee?" "Yes?" "I'm sorry." You murmur, making him glance at you quickly before you turn your head back to look out the window. Before you know it, he's pulling into an empty parking lot behind an apartment complex, ignoring the onlooking eyes of a woman taking her trash out. He parks carefully, turning the car off before turning in his seat to look at you.

"Sorry?" He echoes, and you peer over your shoulder at him. Your eyes are glossed over, and he huffs out a humorless laugh. "Oh, my baby. Come here." His arms wrap around you carefully, your hands coming to cover your face as he tucks you into his shoulder. "You have nothing to be sorry for, Y/N." "I do. I do, Heeseung. I was such a jerk on Tuesday–" Your muffled words stop as he pulls away, his warm fingers circling your shoulders and giving a soft squeeze. "No. You weren't a jerk, you were trying to communicate with me." "Still, I–" "No, Y/N. If anything, I've been a jerk." He huffs, letting go of your shoulders as his back hits the window lightly. "I've never been a good partner to you, and it's so incredibly unfair of me to think that you will just wait and wait until I just feel like being better to you." You blink at him owlishly, adjusting to tuck your legs under you. Your heels now sit on the car floor.

"I have never been good to you. No matter what it is, no matter where I am, I push you aside time and time again. It's like…" He stops, picking at his cuticles before sighing. "I love you so much. It's so hard for me to say and I still feel like some stupid teenager trying to figure out his feelings, but I know. I know I love you and I know you deserve to be loved far more than I can express." You rest your temple against the headrest, "Not everyone goes through what you did, though. I'd be foolish to think loving you would be an ordinary path." "And then you go and do that. God, you're so understanding and it kills me inside." He smiles pitifully, running a hand through his hair. "I want to deserve it. I want to come home and deserve the warm meals you make, I want to lay in bed with you and deserve your touch and your warmth and I want to deserve you."

His eyes sting with tears, and he hears a soft sigh from your lips. Lips he yearns for every second of the day, lips he loves to feel trail along his neck after a long day at work. Lips he pulls whines and moans out of, lips he kisses shimmery vanilla lip gloss off of.

You don't say anything, your fingers reaching for him in his lap. You interlock your hands, bringing his up to your lips and placing a soft kiss on his knuckles.

"I've thought about divorce, you know." You say quietly, his head snapping up to look at you. "What?" "Yeah." You breathe out, your fingers tightening around him. "I thought about leaving, I thought about taking one of the offers I've received in the last seven years for a job in the middle of a new city. I thought about packing up all my clothes, and phoning my mother for help. I figured, if she's my attorney, I can leave everything to you in lieu of me." Heeseung can feel his chest ache as you turn to look at him, your pearl drop earrings swinging with your hair as you do so. He feels like he's in a movie.

"But, I thought about being nineteen with you." "Nineteen?" "Nineteen." You laugh softly, your thumb now rubbing small circles into his skin. You place your other hand atop the pair, enveloping him in your warmth. "I thought about nineteen-year-old me, who saw nineteen-year-old you and felt the world come to a slow, slow stop."

You're staring up into the sky now, the odd sighting of the moon high in the sky at this hour was a good distraction. "I thought, what can I do to deserve him? What can I do to ease his pain, and help him hop through life until his answers are found, until he no longer needs me?" 

"I'll always need you." He blurts, and you nod. "You're selfish like that." He silently nods in agreement, and you speak again. "You're a selfish lover." "I know." He mumbles, not able to look you in the eyes as you sigh. "But, I like it."

"I like that you're selfish." You repeat, and he gives you a quick look. "I like that even when I don't feel loved by you, you wouldn't survive without me. In lieu of me, who?" Your voice is sweet, but he knows your words hold a bit of bitterness. You like the idea of him being nothing without you, and he can't blame you for that. If you'd treated him the way he did you, he'd wish ill upon you until he no longer could. He'd hate you.

"Shall we go?" You ask gingerly, and he nods as he turns in his seat, letting go of your hand. You allow it, buckling in your seatbelt as he readies himself, turning the key in the slot before you clear your throat. "Heeseung?" "Yes?" He hates the eagerness in his voice. He hates how he's like a dog the moment you offer a crumb of your attention, but it's what he deserves. He wants to be a lovesick fool for you, he wants your every word to burn and weigh on him like the heat of a thousand fires.

Your gentle smile kills him as you look into his eyes, a shrug to your shoulders as you let the words slip.

"I love you."

Saturday, 6:43pm.

Thursday afternoon and all of Friday had been rather odd in your house.

Heeseung spent the days trailing behind you, even offering to take you out to shop for outfits for your new job in lieu of date night. You weren't surprised, though – he was always a fan of the way you styled yourself for work. Classy dresses, skirts that fell just below the knee. Long sleeved blouses with jeweled buttons, he felt like a Victorian man going nuts over the sight of your pantyhose-covered ankles.

Tonight, he'd made it a point to get slightly tipsy. You'd gone to a luncheon with your new boss earlier, so you'd arrived just as he was finishing up vacuuming the living room with a half-empty glass of bourbon and Stardust by Ben Webster played throughout the house. He wanted a bit of liquid courage for the conversation he knew the two of you had to have – that is, if he wanted things to start changing for the better.

"Hee?" You called from the foyer, watching as he spun to look at you, face slightly flushed from the alcohol. You let out a laugh, shrugging your coat off as he trekked the living room to greet you. "Babe! How was lunch? I figured I'd clean up here a bit, I know you hate when it gets messy…" Heeseung rambled on about the housework as you gingerly stepped out of your heels, nodding along to his tipsy conversation. You left your shoes in the tiled foyer, walking towards the kitchen for a drink of your own. Heeseung had bought you your favorite sherry whiskey as a congratulatory gift on your new job.

"Wait, let me pour. You must be tired." He stops you from grabbing the bottle off the bar in the kitchen, choosing to skirt around you and open the fridge for a nice cube of ice. You liked two, he remembers. "How was the lunch? Did you eat?" You shrug, "I nibbled. It wasn't very good, it was at that Italian place we don't like." You scrunch your nose as Heeseung hands you your drink, making his lips curve slightly. "Funny, I was going to say we should give it another try." "No way, they fucked up my tiramisu. Remind me to never recommend that place to Sunghoon." You scoff, missing the way your husband's eyes trail your relaxed form as you lean against the counter. "And one of the other doctors was asking me so many questions about myself, it was so annoying. Like, we're not going to be best friends, man." "Like what?" He asks, listening to My Foolish Heart by Bill Evans Trio echo through the house. It was one of the songs played at your wedding, one of the first songs you and Heeseung ever danced to in college. "Oh, Dr. Lee, are you married? Oh, Dr. Lee, do you have kids? Oh, Dr. Lee, what does your husband do? Like shut up! Why does it matter, you're my husband, not his." You roll your eyes, not noticing the way Heeseung's cheeks flush at your words. Downing your drink in one go, you wince slightly, likely from the ice clinking against your teeth but you shake it off. "So, what do we want for dinner?" You poke at his side, and his arm reaches for you. You willingly bring yourself into his embrace, his arms looping around you gently as your fingers hold his t-shirt. "You look so pretty in your little outfit." "Dinner, Heeseung. Use your noggin." You roll your eyes, and he just peers down at you with an odd look in his eyes. Full of…admiration? "You're so beautiful." You feel your cheeks warm as you try to play off his effect on you, clicking your tongue. "I need you to focus here, Lieutenant. Me, your wife, would like dinner." "I heard you, baby." He nods, pulling you closer. You huff, but allow yourself to rest your head against his chest. The two of you had not been…close in this manner in a very long time – you couldn't possibly date the last time he held you like this, it was that long ago. You hate how easily you're melting into him, the warmth of his body, the gentle caressing of his hands to the rhythm of the jazz song playing in the living room.

"Should we get take out? We can watch that movie you like, the one with Al Pacino." He murmurs, carefully tugging the elastic out of your hair, releasing the curls from the ponytail you'd tied back earlier. You nod against him quickly, "And Keanu Reeves?" The two of you look at each other, and he can feel a laugh bubble in his throat at how excited you look as he nods. "Yeah." "Okay! Okay, I'm…gonna go change, and then we can get settled and stuff. Okay?" You blink up at him, your fingers already making quick work of the buttons on your shirt. His lip is tucked between his teeth as his eyes rake your skin, and you scoff, tugging your shirt to cover your chest. "Heeseung! Pay attention!" "I am, baby! I am paying attention!" He laughs, throwing his hands up in defense. "God forbid I want to look at you!" "You're such a man, ugh!" You stick your tongue out at him, turning on your heel when you hear him call after you. "Yeah, well, I'm your man. Deal with it!" You hate how his words make you feel like a teenager as you scamper to your bedroom, quickly discarding your work clothes into the hamper by the door. You can hear Heeseung speaking on the phone in the kitchen, soft thank yous from his lips as you unclasp your bra, sighing in relief as you dig through your husband's drawer when you hear him start walking down the hall. 

"Jesus, warn a guy." He gasps dramatically from the doorway, and you roll your eyes as you tug one of his old band tees over your head. "Heeseung, you've literally eaten my ass." "You said you liked it!" He protests, and you snort. "It was okay. You act like you're so amazed by my boobs, you've seen them hundreds of times." You flip your hair out of the shirt, opening your own drawer to fish out a pair of bottoms. 

"Doesn't make me love them any less." He shrugs, checking his watch. "We have twenty minutes until the food gets here." You look up at him, your fingers rooting through the drawer as you take in his avoidant look. He's nibbling on his lower lip as he stares up at the ceiling fan, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. You scoff, "Honey, we've been together for eight years. If you want to have sex, you can say that." "You make me nervous!" He groans, and you laugh out loud. "What has gotten into you, Lee Heeseung? One week you're begging to eat me out and the next you can't even look at me in my underwear! Are you alright?" You snort as you pull out a pair of his old basketball shorts, and he sighs. "Uhm…Okay, fine. I want to talk about our…sex life? The…uhm, the way we kind of just skirt around all our issues with it." You blink, and you want to tell your heart not to get its hopes up at his words. This will all change in a week, your relationship is beyond fixing.

Right? "Okay. What about it? You don't like that we have sex when we can't communicate?" You nod, pulling the shorts over your legs and letting the waistband snap around your hips. He nods, fiddling with his watch when you put your hand on his wrist. "I need you to talk to me, Heeseung. You wanted to talk about this." "It's…" He breathes, running a hand through his hair as you pull him to the bed, sitting down as he slots himself between your knees. His fingers toy with the hem of the shorts you're wearing, clearing his throat. "I don't want you to think I don't…enjoy it. I love…being with you, in any way you'll have me." "Uh huh?" You interlace your fingers with his, his eyes avoiding yours. "I…want to stop doing that. I know that it's a big part of how we stay connected, uhm, intimately. I know I haven't been making much time for you outside of the bedroom and that's something I want to work on." You can feel your heart pick up a bit.

"So…you want to stop having sex altogether? Or you'd like to…fight and make up?" You tilt your head, feeling a wave of nervousness begin to seep into your stomach. He shakes his head quickly, "I don't think I could ever…I'd like to fight. A lot. As much as we need to." He blinks rapidly, eyes still avoiding yours when you nod slowly. "And…you want to have sex spontaneously? Do you want to schedule it? Do you want to–" "I'm good with whenever. You can have me anytime you want, even if you don't want to have sex for the next year. I'm all yours, whenever." He interrupts, his cheeks burning pink as he clears his throat. You narrow your eyes, "Oookay. You know that goes both ways, right?" "I don't think you understand the willpower it takes not to be all over you every single second of my waking hours." His eyes are now squeezed shut, and you can feel your own cheeks warm as you feel his fingers flex around yours. You let out a soft ha, before nodding. "O-Okay, sure." "So…we're okay? Can we start taking things a little slower?" He asks with a wince, and you nod. "Absolutely." He nods, "Cool, cool. Uhm…I'll wait in the living room for you, okay? I'll set up the movie." He pulls away with a gentle squeeze to your hands, a soft smile playing on his lips as he ducks out of the bedroom. You feel your stomach sink a bit, but out of relief. You feel…lighter.

You didn't mind the once-a-week sessions with Heeseung. He'd come home, the two of you would be particularly agitated – you because you felt pushed aside, Heeseung because of work, because he didn't have enough time for you, because he just wanted to feel some sort of peace. You'd try and start a conversation, only for him to push you back on the couch or the bed, or even the carpet in your living room and kiss you breathless. His tongue would slip into your mouth with practiced precision, his hand pinning your wrists above your head as he begged you to just let him take care of you.

You didn't mind because every touch from him was just right. His lips dragging against your jaw, his fingers shoved down your pants while he whispered sweet nothings. You don't know if Heeseung remembers any of the things he says during sex – how much he loves you, something he can't openly say when he's fully in his five senses. Despite feeling the way you did about your relationship with Heeseung, sex was never something you had to feel worried about – he would get just as drunk off you as he did his favorite bourbon. Sex with Heeseung was like a rollercoaster, even the very first time. He knew every button to push, every spot to caress, to kiss, to bite. He made you feel like you were swimming in a pool of lust and love and you couldn't help but cry during the middle of it all sometimes, only to feel his tongue carefully collecting your tears. "You're so pretty."

Shivering, you fan at yourself before sliding off your bed, making a beeline to your bathroom. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him softly swaying to yet another jazz song as he drapes one of your favorite blankets across the couch. You can't help but smile inwardly, shutting the door behind you as you look at yourself in the mirror. Sighing, you grab for your face wash, not able to stop thinking.

Heeseung does love you. He does, even if he's not good at saying it. He does, even if it means he bruises the stupid tattoo you got of his initials with how tight he holds your hips. He does, because he lets you claw at his tattoo of your initials on his shoulder. You still remember being drunk out of your mind when you stumbled into the studio to get them done.

And you remember that being the first sign that being with Heeseung was not temporary. You hadn't even had sex at that point in your relationship – choosing to cement your relationship with a permanent reminder. One that you knew was under his shirt even when his ring wasn't on his finger, one he knew was just under your panties even when you were mad at him for not spending time with you.

"Baby! Food's here!"  You hear Heeseung call as you reach for your moisturizer.

Baby. A silly pet name you'd missed dearly, a silly pet name he'd used three times just today. "Coming!" You call, quickly wiping the sink of water and opening the bathroom door, scurrying out. He's sprawled across the couch, the containers of takeout spread out on the coffee table in front of him. His hand is messing with the remote, typing The Devil's Advocate into your Amazon Prime account. 

"Hey." He murmurs, feeling you press a kiss to the crown of his head. He doesn't know why he's so nervous – he's literally seen you naked. You ruffle his hair, before rounding the couch and sitting gingerly on the floor. You didn't like to eat on the couch, Heeseung knew that. You slid in front of him, your shoulders pushing his knees apart as you rested your head on the left one. He says nothing, only leaning back as he presses play on the film.

The silence between you is comfortable. You're chewing carefully, soft gasps from your lips as if you hadn't watched this movie hundreds of times. He can't help but think if this was what he was missing out on while he was at work. You, dressed down in his clothing, holding your mouth open around a particularly overstuffed pork bun as Al Pacino dips his fingers into Holy Water.

"You're cute." He murmurs to himself, and you lean your head back slightly, a bit of hoisin sauce on the corner of your lip as you chew. "Hm?" "You're cute, babe." He shakes his head, wiping the corner of your mouth with his thumb. You blink at him, before twisting to look at him properly. Your brows furrow as you swallow, and you click your tongue. You give him a suspicious glance before turning back to the television, shrugging your shoulders as you lean back again.

He likes this. He could get used to it.

Heeseung cleaned up after you finished eating. He even ran the water for your shower, opting to go in after you. You'd pouted, asking him to go in with you – but he insisted he still had things to finish up before he could even think about winding down.

However, when you arrive in the bedroom with your hair wrapped in a towel and a baggy shirt over your shoulders, he can't help but take a peek. He sees the lavender trim of your underwear from his stance in the closet as you bend slightly to fish out a pair of sweatpants, his fingers tightening around the hanger in his hand. It breaks, the crack making you suddenly look up.

"What was that?" Your eyes are wide, scanning him as you pull out a random pair of shorts. He sheepishly hides his hand behind his back, shaking his head quickly. "Nothing, honey. Oh, I saw that you were running out of your serum…thing. The one for your hair, it's in the drawer." He pressed his lips together as he nodded, and you squint at him before opening the top drawer. Sure enough, the Biosilk bottle sits pretty, wrapped in the bag you knew was from the beauty supply store. You take it out, but see Heeseung grimace in the mirror. You peer at him, before seeing the broken hanger in his hand. Rolling your eyes, 

"Maybe if you weren't so busy trying to get a peek at my underwear, you wouldn't have broken that." "Shut up." He scoffs, cheeks heating as he skirts out of the closet, throwing the hanger away in the trashcan by the door. You just shake your head, unwrapping the bottle as he appears next to you. "It's that one, right?" "Yeah, Hee. Thank you." You nod, placing it closer to the mirror. You look up at him through the mirror, noting the way he's gazing at you lovingly. "You're staring." "So?" He shrugs, and you scoff. "Get in the shower, Heeseung. I'm sleepy." "Don't fall asleep without me!" He presses his lips to your temple suddenly, and you don't get a chance to react before he's gone. You hear the door shut behind him, and you quickly grab your phone from its spot on the nightstand, abandoning the shorts you had in your hand on the dresser.

Msg To: Park Sunghoon [9:32pm] please please tell me you won't call hee in to work tmrw

You nibble on your lips, watching as Sunghoon reads the message. His chat bubble pops up, then goes back down. 

Msg From: Park Sunghoon [9:33pm] i'll run it by the guys here in a bit, and i'll let you know. cool?

You don't reply, only giving him a thumbs up reaction. Setting your phone down, you move around for your night routine. Moisturizer, curl cream…before the large bed behind you calls your name as a siren does to shipwrecked pirates.

Flopping face down, you sigh into the pillow. You weren't ready to start working on Monday – you weren't ready to leave the comfort of your home, to talk to people all day about their problems again. You weren't ready for your mother to find out through her connections that you're practicing again.

You weren't ready to stop making two portions of dinner for your husband who wouldn't get home on time, you weren't ready to not be kissed all over in the morning even though he thought you were asleep. You'd never sleep through something so tender.

"Babe, I said don't fall asleep!" You hear Heeseung whine, and you groan into your pillow before flipping onto your back with your eyes closed. "I'm not sleeping! I'm just…resting my eyes." "That's sleeping." He's closer now, and you feel his lips press on your forehead. "It's fine, we have all day tomorrow." "If they don't call you into work." You grumble, and he pinches your cheek, before you feel your husband's lips brush the shell of your ear. "You should never trust Sunghoon to relay a message." "Fuck off!" You whine, shoving him away as you open your eyes. His hair has been dried, his bottom half tucked into a pair of flannel pajama pants. He's holding an old tshirt in his hand as he rounds the bed, "You're not planning on sleeping on top of the duvet, are you?" "Some of us get hot at night." You scowl, but a yelp gets caught in your throat as you feel him yank you to the edge of the bed by your ankle. You narrow your eyes as you look up at him, seeing your husband smiling down at you with a tilt to his head.

"Why the attitude, princess? Something wrong?" 

He's talking down to you, something that makes your cheeks heat. You furrow your brows, scoffing as you prop yourself up on your elbows. His hand leaves your ankle, splaying on the skin of your thigh. "Why would anything be wrong?" He shrugs, his smile still digging into your very bones. "I figured I'd ask, since you begged Sunghoon not to call me this weekend." "Sunghoon is a rat, you know this. Remember when you pushed Jay's head into his birthday cake and Sunghoon immediately dogged you? Why would you believe him?" You try to rationalize your way out of answering his questions, but Heeseung nods as if he's understanding. "You're right, baby. I shouldn't believe him, someone who snitches everyone out because he believes there aren't enough honest people in this world." You scoff at his pointed look, knowing that Heeseung likes the little game you play. He likes cornering you, he likes giving you no way out. He likes the way your skin gets a little warmer under his touch.

"Okay, fine. I admit it!" You groan, falling back onto the bed. "God forbid I want to spend some time with my husband before I'm sent away." You drape your arm dramatically over your eyes, hearing Heeseung laugh above you. You hadn't had a night like this in so long, you can nearly feel the stupid butterflies from your college days floating back around you.

"You're going to work, you're not being shipped off to another country." He removes your arm from over your face, revealing your scrunched nose. He kisses the tip of it, seeing your cheeks bloom pink. "Yeah…" You sigh, before gently placing your hands on Heeseung's cheeks. He smiles down at you, "Yeah?" "I'll miss you." You admit, and his eyes soften as he captures your lips softly. His hands move to your hips, squeezing softly as he pulls back. "I'll miss you too, baby. It'll just take some getting used to." "Will you drive me on Monday?" You blurt, seeing his eyes widen as he nods quickly. "Absolutely. How early? Six? Seven?" You did not expect him to agree so fast. "Uhm, I have to be out of here by six-thirty to get there before the clinic opens." Your husband nods, and you watch the way his eyes move around as he does calculations in his head. "So…we'd be up by five?" He nods to himself, and you shrug. "You don't have to, I'm sorry I brought it up." "Kindly shut the hell up." He rolls his eyes, and you mimic his actions, pulling him back down to your lips. You don't say anything, only kissing him gently as his fingers toy with the hem of your underwear. You can tell he's holding back, not wanting to have this moment go like your usual nights together. He can't stop kissing you back though, and you can feel him slightly rutting against your leg.

"You're humping my leg." You whisper into his lips, and he shrugs, his fingers tugging down your underwear in one swift motion. "Don't care. Lie down." He pushes you back, quickly pushing your shirt up your chest until you get the hint and slip it off.

"What happened to taking it slow?" You tease as he kisses down your stomach, hissing as he nips just above your belly button. "This is slow, but if you want me to stop, I will." He looks up at you, eyes dark. You shake your head, earning another nip from his teeth.

"Words, princess." You flush deeper, nibbling on your lip as you speak. "Keep going." He raises an eyebrow, and you roll your eyes. "Please." "You're such a brat." He rolls his eyes, before sinking to his knees on the carpet. He pulls you closer to the edge of the bed by your knees, one of your legs over his shoulder as he kisses down your thighs. You're squirming, earning a quick slap to your leg. "Stop." "S-Sorry." You mumble, feeling him nose at your pussy. He inhales deeply, a groan from his lips as he places a soft kiss on your clit, a sharp breath caving your stomach in. "Pretty, always so pretty for me." 

You don't get a chance to respond to his muttering, feeling his tongue drag purposefully through your folds. You sigh shakily, your fingers finding his hand that rested on your stomach. He laces your fingers together as he licks at you with an agonizingly slow place.

"F-faster." You whine, feeling him smile into your wet heat. "I said I'd take it slow, princess. You can wait, right? Be a good girl f'me." You suck in yet another sharp breath as his pouty lips wrap around your clit, his hand squeezing yours gently as you whimper. Your hips grind carefully against his tongue, taking all your willpower to not beg him to touch you more. "Missed you. Missed this." He murmurs, letting go of your hand to pull you impossibly closer, his arms wrapping around your thighs as he fucks his tongue into your aching center.

"M-Missed you." You whine, your hand finding home in his hair. "Pull it." He mutters into your pussy, and you tug harshly as he groans into you. The vibrations are torture, your whimpers filling the room. He takes his time, and you can feel your thighs threatening to close around his head.

"Want m-more. P-Please?" You gasp out, and you almost feel angry at the way your husband chuckles. "What happened to taking it slow? You're that needy? Can't cum like this?" You huff, yanking on his hair – earning a low moan. He obliges anyway, slipping his pants down as he stands. He towers over you, your eyes wide at his glistening lips as his hand snakes down between your legs. You shake your head, pulling it away as he laughs breathily. "Baby, I can't–" "I can take it. Please? I can, I promise." You beg, bringing his fingers to your mouth. He watches as you lick them clean, your tongue snaking around his wedding band. You're really and truly his for the taking, loving, fucking.

He shudders, leaning to kiss you softly. Your lips only taste of sin, your tongue sliding into his mouth with practiced ease. He groans quietly, his hard cock sliding against your soaked cunt as you whimper into his mouth. “Please, please—”

“I know baby, I know.” He murmurs, sinking into you slowly with a choked moan. Your fingernails dig into his shoulders, feeling your shaky breathing against his neck. He gives an experimental roll of his hips, relishing in the burn of your nails dragging down his back with a groan. Pushing your hands off him, he pins them above your head, interlocking your fingers.

"I love you." His lips are pressed to yours before you can respond, hips snapping at a menacing pace. Your breath gets caught in your throat, pressing your bare chest to his as he trails his mouth down your jaw. "Can never get enough of you." His soft whispers receive nothing but your whines, your hand squeezing his as he mouthed at whatever skin he could reach. "Could never ask for a better woman." He whispers into your ear, his teeth nipping tirelessly in efforts to burn himself into you forever.

"Can never get you off my mind. Think about you all day, baby." He lets go of your hands, circling his fingers around your thighs and spreading them further. You clench around him, your hands covering your face as a whine slips from his throat, fucking into you harder.

"W-Wanna live in this pussy, fuck." He groans, feeling your gummy walls tighten around him, his hand snaking down to play with your clit. Your moan is sharp, thighs threatening to close around his hips but he forces them apart as your eyes gloss over. "Need you to cum f'me, pretty. N-Need you to cream all over this dick." You open your mouth to speak, only to have it covered by his lips as he leans down to kiss you. He sucks on your tongue messily, feeling your fingers rake through his hair as you pull him back, mouthing at his neck. "W-Want you to cum inside m-me." You mumble, feeling his hips stutter against the swell of your ass, but he quickly falls back into rhythm.

"Y-Yeah? Fuck, want me to fill you up? I'll give you everything, baby. Anything you want, shit–" He whines into your neck, spurred on by your soft whimpers of yeah, yeah – your nails dragging across his back once more, your fingers digging into his tattoo of your initials almost angrily. Your release rips through you with a loud whine, coating his thighs and soaking into the sheets, clenching like a vice around him as he straightens himself.

"Shit, honey–" His eyes are low as he tucks his lip between his teeth, pushing your knees to your chest as he pounds into you, pulling sobs from your throat as he fucks you through your orgasm. His head falls forward as he cums inside you, his fingers finding yours and squeezing like his life depends on it. 

"Fuck." He mutters, pressing his forehead to your chest, the room filling with sounds of your panting and his lips trailing wetly along your shoulders and neck. "When did you…have you ever done that before?" "I don't think so." You breathe out, and his skin feels sticky but he doesn't care. "What…" He straightens, bearing his weight on his elbows as he peers down at you. You're glowing softly, your eyes slightly lower than when you'd started, lips swollen from his teeth pulling at them. "What changed? How can I be better?" Your cheeks flush deeper, shaking your head gently. "I don't–" "C'mon. What was it? You've never had complaints before." He says pointedly, and you smile. "Nothing to complain about, you always do well." "But?" He probes, his eyes locked on yours, and you sigh, pushing his hair off his sweaty forehead. "I don't know, Hee. I guess…I just like when you talk to me." Communication.

His eyes narrow as he thinks, thinking back to all the times you've had sex. He's sure he's spoken to you then, likely incoherent, pussydrunk babbles–

"When you said…" Your voice fades, closing your eyes as you shake your head. "Nevermind." "I could never ask for a better woman." 

It dawns on him, looking back down at you. Your eyes avoid his as you gently thumb at a red line down his shoulder, cause of your fingernails, but he tilts your face with his hand. His fingers squish the fat of your cheeks, a tear slipping from your eyes as he presses a soft kiss to your lips. "I could never ask for a better woman, my love." Your eyes flutter closed as he peppers kisses across your face, tears continuing to fall as he kisses your cheeks. "I love you, okay? I'm so fucking sorry for making you feel like you're not the most important thing to me in this world. I'd die for you, I'd kill for you, okay?" You nod silently, but your lip curls into a smile as he buries his face into your neck. "I'm not a thing, Hee." "Shut up." He whines, and you laugh. "I love you, too. I could never ask for a better man, ever." "God, don't. We won't leave this bed." He groans, and you nip at his earlobe, sucking it gently. "You promise?"

Monday, 5:32am.

He did promise.

You and Heeseung did not leave your bedroom once on Sunday. Well, he did – when he grabbed the food delivery you ordered, and to get you water on multiple occasions. You changed your sheets twice only to ruin them again, the sex messier and wetter the longer you and Heeseung went at it. He took everything you gave him in any position he could fold you into – but nothing beat seeing you laid out on your back, his fingers bruised into your hips and love bites blooming all over your body. He liked admiring you from above, sure – but he loved nothing more than his face shoved between your legs, suffocated by your warm, wet heat.

Your whimpers were burned into his mind, so much so he could hardly leave you alone when night approached. You practically had to beg him to get in the shower, his only request being that you join him. 

By join him, he meant pressing you against the tiles and sinking his teeth into your neck and shoulders as he slid himself through your thighs over and over again. He bit down your back mercilessly, sinking to his knees behind you and lapping his tongue against your cum-coated cunt like a man starved.

Needless to say, the water ran cold and you had shampoo in your hair for an hour.

He didn't care, though. He kissed you deeply, wanting to feel every inch of you all over him before bidding you goodnight. He wanted to wake up early and make you breakfast, he wanted to pick out your pretty blouse and your heels. He wanted to be involved in your life.

"Rise and shine, baby." He whispered into your hair, holding a plate in his left hand as he pinched the fat of your cheek in the other. You groan, pushing his hand away as you roll onto your back. The duvet slips down, revealing your bitten skin. He caresses it gently, his eyes glued to your face as he goes lower. Your hand catches his wrist before he can cup your breast, peeling your eyes open reluctantly.

"I can't let you near me, you'll fuck me into the mattress." You mutter, making him smile. "Maybe don't beg me to cum inside you, and I'll leave you alone." He holds up the plate in his hand, his chest swelling at your blushing cheeks. "I made breakfast, can you get up now? I want to pick your clothes!" Your eyes widen slightly as you sit up, letting the duvet pool around your belly button as you wipe at your inner corners. "Really? You want to?" "I love seeing you dressed up for work, babe. Can I? I'll make it pretty, I promise." He draws an x over his chest, and he notices how you can't bite back a smile as you take the plate from him. He turns away as you reach for the bedside lamp, clicking it on as he practically skips into your shared closet.

"You're really chipper…" You trail off, shoveling a peach slice into your mouth. He shrugs, holding up two shirts before putting them back. "It's your first day, and I read something a few years ago about marital ambiance. If I'm in a crappy mood, it'll rub off on you. We can't have that, can we?" He smiles widely as he pulls out a black dress you hadn't worn in ages – the sleeves were long and slightly flared, and the flowy skirt ended just above your knee. The neck was high, so you wouldn't be exposing any of your weekend shenanigans. "This one? Haven't seen this in, what, two years?" "We can try that one, yeah." You speak around a mouthful of oatmeal, and he nods as he turns to your shoes. "Are you walking a lot? Or can we go for the Hot Chicks?" He holds up the black leather heels, and you just smile and shake your head. "I'll take my slippers anyway, so we can go with the Hot Chicks." 

"I checked the temperature outside, it'll be a little chilly until lunch time. Do you want pantyhose? Stockings?" He drapes the dress over his arm as he worms out of the closet, placing your shoes on the dresser as he opens a drawer. You like the sight of your husband like this. Excited for you, eager to see you take a step forward after being (willingly) stagnant for so long. You were afraid that maybe he'd discourage it – you'd overheard him talking to Sunghoon once about how your last job nearly made you lose your mind, and how worried he'd been about you.

He wasn't wrong, either – the fact that your impact felt so minuscule just made you feel like you were at home away from home. It felt like your marriage at the time, it felt like you were sixteen again talking to your mother about your dreams and being shut down. It felt bad, ugly.

You finish your breakfast and get dressed as your husband gets ready, his suit jacket the exact same shade of black as your dress, his button-up that cherry red that makes you ache with want. His slacks are pressed, his hair carefully styled as he appears behind you moments later, holding a flat iron to your head.

"No curls today, babe?" He leans against the doorway, and you smile shyly. "No, I think I want something sleek. The curls are not looking too good this morning." "Yeah?" He's not listening, running his eyes down your backside. "Hee. Stop." "I'm just looking, baby." He smiles, and you ignore the way his eyes raking across you make you feel warm. "Well, stop looking. I can't be late, not today." "So, tomorrow?" He asks, and you scoff as you pull the iron down the last strand of hair, running over the ends twice before tossing it over your shoulder. You roll your eyes, unplugging the tool as your husband's hands run over your ass, giving it a gentle squeeze. Swatting his hands away, you leave the iron to cool as you turn around. 

"Heeseung, I'm serious." You're nose to nose with your husband, who only smiles down at you. "One kiss." "In the car, after my lipstick, when you drop me off." You propose, and he shakes his head. "Right here, right now, before your lipstick and you let me go down on you." "You're insane!" You laugh, pushing him out of the way – but not before he lands a soft smack to the swell of your ass. "Stop! Let me get ready!" "Fine, fine! I'll make coffee." He scoffs, turning on his heel and going down the hallway. 

You shake your head to yourself, wandering back into your bedroom and slipping your jewelry on. Small gold hoops, the same necklace you wore every single day. Your wedding rings, one silver ring with the letter H on your middle left, and one on your right pinky with Heeseung's and your birthstones. A watch that was a gift from your father on your graduation day, the leather band slightly worn and molded to your wrist.

You hear a soft whistle from the doorway, and look up to see your husband biting his lip. "Are you sure you can't be a little late?" "Dude." You roll your eyes, watching Heeseung set down your silver tumbler on the dresser. He slides behind you as you check your earrings carefully, pressing his hips into your ass. “Did you call me dude yesterday? Could’ve sworn it was another word that started with—”

“Heeseung, you’re on thin ice.” You glare at him through the mirror, feeling him grind against you. “It’s almost like I can still hear you.” He hums against your shoulder, pressing a quick kiss before moving your hair out of the way, trailing gently up your neck and nipping at your ear.

“Please, daddy. Want you so bad.” He mocks you, watching your expression change in the mirror. You huff, your cheeks burning as you look away. “Don’t be shy, it was cute. You’re cute, baby.”

“Stop.” You murmur, before feeling his hand gently tilt your face towards his. He kisses you deeply, moving his hand lower slowly. Squeezing your neck softly, you whimper into his mouth before he pulls away, biting your lower lip and watching it spring back. “We’ll run this back later, yeah?”

You nod, earning a smile and a chaste kiss. “C’mon. It’s almost six-fifteen.”

He pushes off of you, his hand lingering on your hip before he leaves the bedroom. You sigh shakily, your fingers fumbling for your lipstick as you hear him jingle his car keys. You shove it into your dress pocket, grabbing your shoes and coffee cup off the dresser and exiting the bedroom.

You shove your shoes on as you reach the foyer, watching Heeseung pull your coat out of the hall closet. “I prepped your bag before I made breakfast, can you check it?”

Everything is there. You let him slip your coat on, pressing a kiss to your cheek and carefully fixing your hair. “What time are you off?”

“I’ll call you?” You say, and he nods. “Ten minutes before?”

“You got it.”

Neither of you say much else as you take a deep breath, opening your front door and stepping out together. You hold Heeseung’s sleeve as he locks the door, your other hand gripping the tumbler he prepared for you.

He turns, interlocking your fingers with his and bringing your knuckles to his lips. “You ready?”

You smile nervously, “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

Heeseung dropped you off a minute to seven, and even walked you to the doors of your clinic. He waited patiently as you applied your lipstick, puckering his lips cutely for his kiss goodbye. You pressed another to his cheek for good luck.

The day went smoothly. Your first two patients were two young men, both in their early twenties. One with dyed blond hair, the other with a dark brown perm. Both had tired eyes and chapped lips, bitten fingernails. The blond had a tattoo of a girl’s name on his forearm, the brunet two rings through his eyebrow.

Heeseung’s habit of jotting down small details has rubbed off on you.

Your last patient was set to arrive any minute, and you found yourself feeling uneasy. You kept changing the music you played, settling on Paradise by Sade. You smoothed the felt on the patient couch several times, even drawing a pattern in the fabric before hearing the soft knock on the door.

“Come in!”

A woman opens the door a crack, dark brown eyes peering in. Thickly lashed and lined with kohl, she presses her lips into a thin line before opening the door wider. You stand, smoothing your dress before offering your hand.

“I’m Dr. Lee. You must be—”

“I’m Jeon Chaeyoung. It’s on my file.” She mutters, bypassing your extended hand. She sits on the edge of the couch, and you brush it off. A lot of patients were standoffish at first — getting comfortable with someone you were going to share your problems with was always something difficult, you understood that.

“Yes, I know. I’m glad to meet you, I—”

“Can we just get into it? I don’t want all the formalities.” She cuts you off, and you try not to look discouraged as you settle into your chair. “Of course. Why don’t you tell me about yourself?”

She sighs, picking at her maroon polish. Something about her is off, something is oddly familiar, but you don’t know what. You notice her widow’s peak has been shaved off, and her teeth are a little too well shaped not to be veneers. 

“Well, I’m twenty-eight. I dropped out of university when I was nineteen, and I left my hometown at the same time. Haven’t spoken to anyone since, and I moved to this town last year with my husband.”

You nod slowly, tapping your pen against your notepad. You glance at her file, seeing that she had a few name changes in the last three years. Twice — Jeon Chaeyoung, before that she was Cha Chaeyoung.

Before that, Cha Soyoung.

You choke on your saliva, coughing harshly into your fist. She looks startled, her hands out as you reach for the pitcher of water on the coffee table. You pour shakily, coughing off the side before picking the glass up and taking a sip.

“S-Sorry, sorry. Had a little something. You moved here last year?”

Her eyes are suspicious as you pour another glass for her, sliding it across the table. She takes it tentatively, taking a small sip before holding it in her hands.

“Yeah. I…ran away, I guess. I felt so much pressure from everyone around me. My mother wanted me to be a bigshot lawyer, my father wanted me to take over his company on top of that. My best friend…” She trails off, and you hope she can’t sense how nervous you are. 

“He…ugh. He was so patient and understanding, and he tried so hard to understand me. He was there for me through every bad moment of my life — my mother pressing me to be successful, my father wanting me to take over his company. I couldn’t handle it.”

“So you left. You left everything behind and you started anew.” You say slowly, and she nods, her eyes teary. “I even changed my name. I knew he would look for me, I just disappeared without telling anyone. I think he gave up, but I still…”

She wipes at her nose, and you quickly offer tissues from the table. She takes a few, dabbing at her eyes before the kohl can run. She has the same look in her eyes as your first two patients — tired, scared. Even a bit…remorseful.

“I got surgeries to change the way I look, you know. I have a nose job, can you tell?” She turns to the side, and you can. You can tell, the way her nose no longer has the soft button look, but the straight bridge with pointed tip. But she doesn’t know you know that.

“Not that you’d know, sorry.” She laughs nervously, balling the tissues in her hands. You smile warmly at her. “I got my teeth done. And I even got half a syringe of filler in my lips.”

She puckers them, the clear gloss still shiny against the pink skin. You nod, “They look good, though. How do you feel about the changes? Do you feel more confident?”

She shakes her head, “No. I did it…to hide, I guess. I didn’t want my best friend to find me, I didn’t want anyone to find me. I went into hiding as long as I could, hoping my parents would just forget about me.”

“Mmh. I saw your file, and you said you’ve…changed your name. Why, exactly? Did you want to leave behind the person that was…Soyoung?” You tap the file, trying not to show the way her name makes your tongue taste sour, and she sighs. “They opened a Missing Persons case for me. It made everything a lot harder, you know? I just wanted to disappear and start a new life doing something menial. I know it sounds stupid—”

“Stupid?” You scoff, crossing your legs. “Nothing you feel is stupid, Chaeyoung. Everything and anything you’ve ever felt is valid. The need to run when things get too stressful, wanting to hide away from societal pressures. Everything, it’s valid.”

She lets out a shaky sob, covering her mouth as she breathes in. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry! You’re just a human being. No one can get upset at you for not knowing how to navigate everything, this is your first time on Earth.” You shrug, and she peers up at you through teary eyes. “Can you tell me about yourself? M-Maybe it’ll be easier to get comfortable.”

“Sure!” You smile, eager to give her an update on Heeseung, despite her not knowing. “I’ve been married for seven years. I met my husband when we were nineteen, and we started dating a little after that. I was a stay-at-home wife for the last few years, because my job…”

She stares at you intently, and you rub your neck. “I didn’t feel fulfilled. My mother, quite like yours, had a lot of pressure on me. I was her only daughter, and she wanted so much. She wanted me to marry for money, and she wanted me to pursue a law degree.”

You smile sadly, and she nods. “Did you marry for money?”

“Not at all. I made more than my husband did in my first year as a therapist.” You laugh, remembering how you and Heeseung cheered as the two of you finally had enough saved for a new mattress. It was a silly stepping stone but the two of you were ecstatic.

“What does your mom think of you now? Do you keep in contact with her?” She tilts her head at you, and you shrug. “I don’t care what she thinks, and she doesn’t speak to me. She works distantly with my husband, so he sees her more often than I do. She’s an attorney for the city we live in.”

Chaeyoung nods, slowly. She pulls her phone out, typing quickly and scrolling before turning her screen towards you. It’s a picture of her and Heeseung smiling as kids. They’re dressed as Team Rocket from Pokémon, posing with V-signs next to their winked eyes.

“This is him. He’s my best friend. I haven’t spoken to him since I left.” She sniffles, and you can’t hide the way your smile falters. You feel your stomach sink a bit, realizing that she would always know Heeseung far more than you ever would. She grew up with him, she matched Halloween costumes with him. She held his hand trick-or-treating, she dyed his hair for the first time in grade nine. 

She kissed him when they were seventeen, for the first time ever.

“Are you okay?” She asks, pulling her phone away. You nod quickly, “Yeah, yeah. Sorry, I just had some memories. I was super into Pokémon as a kid, but I moved around a lot and could never make friends over it.”

It’s not a lie. You collected the cards, played the video games, and watched the Indigo League.

“Do you and your husband have kids? My husband wants to have kids soon.” She mentions, and you shake your head. “No, not yet. We talked about it yesterday, actually.”

You had, in depth. While you were eating the shitty takeout from the diner down the road, he’d asked you. You admitted that you were open to having kids, but wanted to fix your marriage first. He agreed, but mentioned that getting off your birth control would take time to get used to. You nodded in response, saying you’d make an appointment with your doctor and the two of you could go from there.

“But us, first. Okay?” He’d said, holding his pinky out to you. You’d smiled and linked your fingers, “Us first.”

“This is my husband. His name is Jungkook.” She pulls up a photo of a particularly tattooed man, pressing his lips to her temple. He has a lip ring, and several rings through his ears. “He’s cute! Do you feel loved? Fulfilled?”

“Funnily enough, I do. I don’t feel any of the stress or pressure to be…perfect. He…gets me. He engages me, he makes me laugh. We dance together a lot, he sings me to sleep.” She nods, smiling at the photo. “Can I see your husband? Or is that too far?”

You try not to show your hesitation, but the words tumble out before you can stop them.

"Maybe next time, yeah?" She nods quickly, a blush spreading across her cheeks. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable–" "Not at all! My husband is just particular, you know. His job stops him from really being a prolific person." You smile, shaking your head as you tap your notepad. It's true, you and Heeseung hardly posted things about yourselves or your relationship on social media. Your friends were all very private due to the nature of their jobs, and it'd do you well to follow that.

The rest of the session goes on without many more slip-ups. She focuses on telling you about her relationship with her husband, how he proposed. Their intimate elopement in his hometown, with just his friends and their girlfriends. You can't count how many times you heard her mention a couple named Jimin and Jeongyeon.

You can't focus on anything but the color of her eyes. How deep they are, how much of her story they hold. You're certain Heeseung would be able to figure her out in a split second, just by looking into them.

"You're very good at this, you know." She says as she tugs her jacket on, and you don't remember her ever taking it off. The hour she booked is almost up, and she looks a lot lighter than when she came in. You can feel the weight of her confessions, the weight of knowing she was alive and well after years of searching for her on your own shoulders.

You don't know if, or when, you should, or could – tell your husband.

"Good at what?" You tilt your head, and she gives you a quizzical look. "At creating a nice environment to share my struggles. I know I mostly talked about my husband, but…it felt nice. To tell someone about him and not have them tell me they already know that about him." You smile inwardly, knowing exactly what she means. "Yeah. My husband…his best friends are also mine. Can't really talk about all his weird little habits without them knowing exactly what I'm talking about." "Oh? You don't have friends of your own?" She tilts her head, and you laugh. "I mean, yeah. But I tend to spend most of my time with my husband. It's like…a really good amusement park. I wanna go on all the rides with him, you know?" She smiles, but you see a slight flash of judgment in her eyes. Feeling your cheeks burn, you clear your throat, closing her file and putting it on the table. "Should I expect to see you here next week, Chaeyoung?" "I'd like that, Dr. Lee. My husband said he'd wait for me, so I'm going to go ahead and relieve him." She nods, before standing. You do as well, walking her to the entrance. She turns on the steps, "Thank you for listening to me." "Any time, Chaeyoung." You bid her a goodbye, watching as she walks out of the clinic with her hands in her pockets to a black station wagon. Leaning on your doorframe with your arms crossed over your chest, you see her husband get out, seeing the way he towers over her. He smiles down at her, tucking her hair behind her ear before pressing a kiss to her forehead. You can make out his lips asking How was it? 

And her own saying I'm coming back next week. I really like this one, honey.

You feel your chest ache as he opens her door, pressing another kiss to her cheek as she pulls her seatbelt on. He shuts the door, and circles back to the driver's side. He looks up, catching your eye. He tilts his head, before smiling and opening his door. He gives you a quick wave, and you put your fingers up as he reverses out of his parking spot.

It looked so easy for them.

She looked so easy to love, he looked so eager to love her. Did people look at you and Heeseung that way, too? Did they think that about you? Sighing, you turn into your office, stretching your arms over your head. You moved around, tidying up as the music you played switched to something that reminded you more of your husband – specifically, No Song Without You by HONNE.

He'd played this song almost every day when the two of you began dating. You remember this song playing in the restaurant you had your third date at. You remember this song playing in the car when he picked you up for your twentieth birthday. You remember this song playing when he asked you to be his girlfriend, and ending just moments before he kissed you for the first time. You remember this song playing when he took you out to the flower field he proposed in. You remember his teary eyes as he knelt down before you, one of the biggest displays of emotion you'd ever seen in him. Most of all, you remember him saying there is no him without you.

You don't realize you've been standing in the same spot for the last two minutes until you hear your phone ring on the desk. You rush to it, picking up the call before even looking at the caller ID.

"This is Dr. Lee." You say, fumbling with Chaeyoung's file and the cabinet. You open it before hearing your husband snort on the other end. "Hello, Dr. Lee. This is Lieutenant Lee, I'm calling on behalf of your taxi service." "Yah! You're not my taxi." You scoff, shoving the file into the J section. He laughs, "I'm outside, baby. You didn't call, so I got worried. I picked up something light, are you almost done?" "Shit, I'm sorry. D'you want to come inside? I still have things to wrap up." You screw your eyes shut, your fingers rubbing at your temples. "Yeah, sure. I'll be right there."

It doesn't take long for your husband to appear at your door, holding his badge in his hand as you type on your computer. You give him a quizzical look, before turning back to the screen. "Did the janitor give you a hard time?"

"You could say that." He shakes head, setting his keys and phone down on your coffee table. He's holding the bag of food in his hand, and you gesture to the room. "It's nice, isn't it?" He looks around, putting the bag on your desk before opening it. "It's a lot bigger than your old office. I like the green…is that Take Me by Miso?" His ears perk at the new song playing through the speakers, and you sigh, nodding your head as you slump in your chair. He nods along to the song before rounding the desk, and pressing a kiss to your hairline. "You don't look very happy, honey. Did something happen?" His hands find your shoulders as he stands behind you, and you move your mouse all over the screen. "Nothing, I'm just rebooking a patient. She…something about her. I don't know." You know your conscience won't let you hide this from Heeseung very long. Granted, you're protected by the law if you do tell him, and it's the right thing to do.

Something in your heart doesn't feel right.

"Jeon Chaeyoung." He reads, and you nod. "Jeon Chaeyoung." "What's her deal?" He asks, making you pout up at him. "If I tell you, I'm violating our patient-provider contract." He gives you a confused look, before leaning down, brushing a kiss to your cheek. "I'm sensing a but, here." You sigh, exiting the schedule and turning the monitor off. "Let me make a scenario for you, yeah?" You stand, kicking your heels off as you walk onto the carpet under the coffee table. He nods slowly, before moving to the patient couch, taking a seat as you pace.

"Let's say, you're looking at someone in a line-up, yes?" You turn to him, and he nods. "Okay. What am I looking for?" "Something familiar. You know the perpetrator and you've known them for ages. I mean, damn near your entire life." 

Heeseung's eyes scan your face, before humming. He leans back, resting his elbows against the back of the couch. "We have a saying about eyes, I guess. That they never lie, you know. Eyes are the windows to the soul and what not." 

"So if I show you a picture of me and a bunch of other people, and cover everything but our eyes, you'd know which one I am?" You feel like you're starting to sound a bit like a maniac, but your husband nods. "Of course I would. I love your eyes. I look at them all the time."

You nod quickly, before breathing out shakily. "When you were nine, what did you dress up as for Halloween?" "What?" He scoffs out a laugh, "What does that have anything to do with what we were just talking about?"

You kneel in front of him, and he sits up quickly, taking in your serious expression. "Babe, what is going on?" "Did you match with Soyoung?" You murmur, picking at his slacks. "Were you Jesse from Team Rocket?"

Heeseung's brow furrows as he takes your hands, the clink of your rings grabbing your attention. "Y/N?" "It's her. She changed her name and she changed her face but it's her, Hee. I know it is, I can tell by her eyes and she showed me the two of you dressed up for Halloween as kids. That picture your mom has framed in her office." You squeeze your eyes shut, sinking back from him. His fingers squeeze yours gently before he scoffs. "Y/N…Honey, I really, really need you to think about what you're telling me right now." "I am, Heeseung! This is just as important to me, you know that! Countless sleepless nights, thousands of posters put up every single weekend just for her to waltz into my office today and tell me about her life!" You rip your hands from his, standing and walking to the file cabinet. You fish her file out, opening it and thrusting it into his hands.

He takes it reluctantly, his eyes scanning the file with a frown on his lips. 

Emergency Contact: Jeon Jungkook –  Cell: 010-1997-090 Work: 010-2013-0613 Relationship to Patient: Spouse

"She's married." He mumbles, flipping to the next page to her insurance information. He sees her name changes, before and after her marriage. His tongue pokes his cheek gently as you sit next to him, your ankles crossed as you sigh.

"This is rather anticlimactic." You mumble, leaning your head against his shoulder. He hums in response, thumbing the print of her electronic signature. "She never used to write her C's like this." He flicks the file, before closing it. "What happens now?" Your voice is no higher than a whisper, and you feel him sigh before leaning his head on yours. "Nothing. Legally, she doesn't have to report her reappearance. She's an adult." You look up at your husband, who has a surprisingly underwhelmed look on his face. He's nibbling on his lip as he gently tosses the file onto the coffee table. You rest your chin on his shoulder, scanning his face before he looks down at you.

"You seem tired." You say softly, and he closes his eyes. "I am. I'm so tired, honey." "You don't feel any sort of way about this? I can refer her to another clinic. I can–" "I just want to go home, Y/N." He shakes his head, his arm coming to wrap around your shoulders and pulling you into his chest. You allow it, moving to sit in his lap and feeling his hands drop to your waist. "I don't have…I can't…" You look down at him, seeing the way he angrily blinks back tears as he tries to find the words he needs. Your hands gently cup his cheeks as he sighs frustratedly, burying his face in your chest. You can feel your stomach flip as he tries to breathe deeply, his shoulders tight as you wrap your arms around them. He sniffles, resting his forehead on your clavicle, your fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

"Is it wrong to be angry at her?" He mumbles shakily, and you quickly shake your head. "No. She left, and she told me it was willingly. She came back, just a thirty-minute drive from home and she didn't tell you. You're allowed to be upset." "Then why do I feel shitty about it?" His voice trembles as he looks up at you, teary eyes full of resentment and bitterness, but behind it all is a 19-year-old boy who lost his best friend from night to the morning. You coo softly, your thumb moving to swipe under his eye as he pouts.

"Because you wanted things to be different. Finding out she's okay through me…probably wasn't the way you imagined it'd happen. Maybe you had an idea of her showing up to the precinct, or to your parents' house looking for you. Maybe you saw that she's married to someone else and it hurts you, maybe you have some underlying feelings." You shrug, not noticing the way your husband's eyes narrow at your words.

"Y/N, are you hearing yourself right now?" He scoffs, gently pushing you away from him. His hands rest on your thighs, nibbling on the corner of his lip as you give him a confused look. "What?" "Did you just seriously try and equate my feelings about this entire situation to me having some sort of weird fantasy about being with her?"

You blink twice, only for Heeseung to huff out a humorless laugh before gently removing you off his lap. He stands, grabbing his keys and wallet off the table before tapping the file. "Let's go home." "Hee–" "Let's go." He sighs, fingers grabbing the bag of dinner that you're sure had gone cold by now. He waits by the door as you gather your things, holding your coat in his hand as you slide your heels back on. "Heeseung–" "Turn around. It's cold outside." His voice isn't harsh or mean, but you can tell he doesn't want to speak unless it's absolutely necessary. You reluctantly let him slide your coat on for you, feeling his lips pressed to your temple quickly. He opens the office door, carefully pushing you out first and turning the lights off behind him.

"Can I drive?" You hold your hand out for the keys, and he sighs before dropping them in your hand. You walk quickly towards the exit, not bothering to bid the janitor a good night as you nearly threw the door open. You could feel your stomach turn as you reached the car, Heeseung still trailing behind you when his voice cut through the air.

"Walking that quickly won't get you away from this conversation, babe." You tongue your cheek, waiting for your husband to appear next to you in front of the SUV you shared. His hand squeezed your hip gently, before pulling you close. "What are you running from, hm?" The conversation where you tell me that our marriage is over and you want out because your best friend is back in the picture, you think. You shrug, shaking your head as he pulls open the driver's side door. He sighs as you skirt around him, pulling yourself into the seat without his help. He doesn't let you close the door, wedging himself in to buckle in your seatbelt for you.

"You say some really fucked up shit sometimes, you know." He murmurs, and you feel your cheeks hot as you reach around him to stick the keys in the ignition. His hand on your cheek stops you, forcing you to look at him. "I thought we said we'd work on this. On us." "I don't want to do this here." You reply shortly, not recognizing your own tone of voice as your husband's eyes widen before he tongues his cheek. "Fine." The drive is silent, the radio turned off by your fingers the moment you managed to get the car started. Heeseung sits in the passenger side, staring out the window with a tick in his jaw you'd only ever really seen a few times, but you remember most during your first fight. It'd been two days before your first anniversary, and it'd been over the dumbest thing ever – his phone dying and you freaking out when he showed up late to your early celebration. He'd apologized profusely but you didn't want to talk about it then, just like you don't want to talk now.

Heeseung is out of the car before you even manage to park fully, careful not to slam the door as he rounds the car, opening your door and taking your bag. You reluctantly let him help you down, and he takes the keys to open the door without a word. Your home is still warm and inviting, but something about the cold demeanors floating around the two of you makes it feel like you're not even there.

"Are you hungry?" He asks quietly, and you shake your head. "No." "You had lunch at noon, why are you lying?" He scoffed, pulling his jacket off as you tongued your cheek, "I'm not. You're just assuming things." "What is the problem, Y/N? Suddenly Soyoung…Chaeyoung reappears and you want to act like this? Did we not just have several lengthy conversations about fixing our relationship?" He grabs your elbow gently as you move to walk away, and you can't help but look at him with a frown on your face. "That was then, and this is now." "Why are you being like this? Babe." Heeseung pulls you toward him, and you huff in frustration as you try to weasel from his gasp. "You're acting like I'm some insecure housewife who needs you to coddle her. I'm not insecure, and even if I was, there's nothing you can do about it. Who cares? Why do you even care?" Heeseung gapes at you, before his hands circle your wrists so you can't move away from him. "Hello? Because I love you? Do I need another reason to want to understand why the woman I've been with for almost a decade is suddenly acting like she hates me?" 

"Me? Hate you? Be fucking serious." You scoff, and Heeseung's eyes narrow. "Then tell me what the hell is going on in your mind, because I'm not a mind reader. I cannot fix a problem if you don't tell me what it is." "Oh, but if I were Soyoung–" You start, but stop the moment his eyes meet yours. They're full of hurt and a hint of anger, a singular tear spilling from them before he drops your wrists with a click of his tongue. "Don't."

His voice is soft, and he pinches the bridge of his nose as he turns away from you, before shrugging his suit jacket off. He sighs shakily, and you feel your throat burn as you step out of your heels, placing them quietly on the shoe rack by the door. You purse your lips, taking a deep breath before turning on your heel, moving towards your bedroom before the tears spill from your eyes.

You didn't know what to do to stop the feeling of despair from clawing at you. And you felt stupid, thinking that you needed to even allow that feeling into your chest. You and Heeseung had spoken in depth on Sunday about your relationship – when you weren't pinned under him or vice versa. You talked about having kids, you talked about your parents, you talked about each other. He admitted to you that Dr. Bahng had told him to take some time off for the two of you before the year ended, and that he'd talk to his Captain about submitting the paperwork for a vacation sometime this week.

He admitted that he wholly believes marrying you was one of the best decisions he's ever made, and profusely apologized for his inability to cherish you the way you deserved. He held you closely as his promises to do better rained over you, and you promised the same.

He admitted to feeling his heart racing in his chest the day he met you, but was too consumed with guilt about Chaeyoung to ever bring it up, and his crush on you started developing soon after. He admitted that you made him overthink every step he took, every word he said – so much so that he figured it was just better to push you away than tell you about his feelings. The two of you recounted how Sunghoon made the two of you meet him at the campus cafe with the premise that he needed help on an assignment – only to ditch you with a frown, and figure your shit out falling from his lips as he left with Jake.

You brought up how he'd gaped at Sunghoon, and the way you awkwardly picked at your nails before confessing that you had a little crush on him. The way you rambled about knowing that his circumstances were really shitty, that you completely understood if he didn't feel the same, and that you were sorry Sunghoon put the two of you in this situation. Heeseung had only smiled as he nodded along to your words, before abruptly interrupting you to ask if you were free that following Friday. You had been, and he picked you up at seven for a date – an arcade, where the two of you jokingly did a Love Test-O-Meter and got the highest level. The two of you had scrunched your noses, but you both had deep blushes across your cheeks as the other patrons woo'd you. After, you went back to his dorm and ordered takeout, before promptly getting intoxicated on a bottle of gin stolen from Jay and watched horror films for hours before you passed out on his bed holding hands.

The rest? History.

You're struggling to pull your dress zipper down when Heeseung enters the room, his fingers gently tugging the zipper down your back without a word. You hear the gentle jazz music playing in your living room as he shuffles towards the closet, unbuttoning his shirt before hanging it back up. His hand reaches for one of the towels on the shelves, before taking another out and placing it on the bed.

A silent invitation to join him in the shower, if you so felt like it.

You hesitated, watching the way he gathered his pajamas and tucks them under his arm, the urge to follow after him far too strong as you stepped out of your dress, letting it pool on the floor. You kicked it away with a huff, before stripping entirely and grabbing the towel and your robe off the back of your bedroom door. You linger at the bathroom door, hearing the water start to pour and the sound of the shower curtain being pulled open. You walk in silently, setting your things down on the counter as Heeseung undid his belt, hanging it up on the hook by the door. You make a mental note to take it out when you leave, he'll forget it and not wear it for weeks until he sees it again. He tilts his head towards the shower as he peels off his undershirt, signaling for you to get in while he gets undressed.

The water is hot against your skin, and you close your eyes with an inward sigh. He steps in moments after, before tilting your head back just slightly so the water can cascade through your hair. Your hands instinctively move to touch him, but you retract back to your sides. He gently takes them, wrapping them around his waist like you usually do.

He doesn't say anything as he washes your hair gently, your eyes closed so as to not take in the image of your husband's slightly swollen eyes. His fingers card through your hair smoothly, before you feel his lips on your forehead. 

"I love you. Don't say it back. Don't say anything." You don't, but you're sure he sees the tear that slips from your eye as you nod silently. It comes so easily to him now. So, so easily to let you know how he feels about you. It makes you weak in the knees.

The rest of your shower is like that, his lips brushing chaste kisses all over your face as he repeats himself over and over, I love you, I love you, I love you. Your tears are hot as they continue to spill, and you finally slip out of the shower when he asks you to take the extra pillows off the bed – his final kiss to your lips after carefully washing your face for you.

You do as he asks, taking your decorative pillows and piling them in the closet like you usually do. You silently get dressed for bed, not bothering with your skincare – you'll just cry it off. Your hair is still damp when you lie down in one of your husband's old shirts and a pair of Spiderman briefs you stole from him years ago. He quietly turns all the lights off but leaves the music playing in the living room, before walking into the bedroom as he pulls his shirt over his head.

Your vision is blurry as you look up at him, his face illuminated by the evening moonlight. He sighs as he sits on your side of the bed, his hand sliding under the duvet to rest on your thigh. "Come dance with me." You blink a few times, staring at him before closing your eyes, shoving the duvet to the side and swinging your legs over the side of the bed. He stands, taking your hand in his and making you follow him to the living room.

You hear the opening notes of Unchained Melody by The Righteous Brothers – yet another song from your wedding – as Heeseung pulls you into him, planting a soft kiss to your hairline as his hands find home on your lower back. You exhale into his chest, feeling his heartbeat quicken as you slide your hands under his shirt, resting them high on his back. 

"I love you, I'm sorry." You mumble as he sways the two of you gently, and he hums in response.

"I need you to know that I've never had feelings for Chaeyoung." He says clearly, and you close your eyes. "I've never had feelings for her, in any way that wasn't platonic. There are plenty of reasons she and I never got together after she kissed me when we were teenagers. Not that they matter, because all that matters is that I didn't feel the same, I never have and I never will." You don't respond, feeling your eyes sting with tears.

"It's only ever been you for me. I've never once thought back to when we started dating and thought that I'd would’ve been better off with anyone else. I've never wanted anyone that isn't you, and I think that is equally as beautiful as it is terrifying. In lieu of you, who? I'd have no first love without you, you’re the only love I want." "I'm sorry." You whisper as your tears soak into his shirt, and he pinches your hip lightly. 

"I'd genuinely be nothing without you. You are the most patient, loving person I've ever met. No one makes me want to be a better man like you do. I feel sick every time I have to get out of bed and go to work, but I remind myself that you only deserve the best. This house, our things, what I hope I can provide for our future kids…it can only be the best. So, I'm sorry, baby. I'm sorry for giving so much importance to the future, which isn't a bad thing in itself. But, I've ignored my present. You're a gift from life, I've ignored you and it pains me to know I've caused you so much distress. So much so that you resort to feeling like this, like I'd ever leave the love of my life, the love for my life, for someone else."

His hands find your face, cooing at the pout on your lips as he gently wipes your tears. "I meant everything I said this weekend, too. I could never ask for a better woman, not when I have you." You only let out a sob in response, your husband cuddling you into his chest as he turns the music off when the song changes. He rubs your back as he moves the two of you back to the bedroom. He only separates from you to slide under the covers, but pulls you flush to his chest and envelopes you tightly in his arms.

"I love you so, so endlessly. Please don't ever doubt that again." He sighs shakily, pressing his lips to your temple as you bury your face in his neck. "I love you, Hee."

Friday, 3:40pm.

It'd been three weeks since you told Heeseung about Chaeyoung's return, and she'd become a regular patient at your clinic. She told you more about her husband, her friends, and how she missed Heeseung. She asked you about your life, and you did everything to avoid mentioning names, even going as far as avoiding certain questions. You kept Heeseung updated with everything, and the more you told him…

…The more disinterested he became. It was odd to you, but you said nothing as he changed the subject, as he rolled his eyes, as he kissed you in the middle of your sentences. 

Heeseung also made it a point to drop you off and pick you up from work every day, insisting he enjoyed it. He made your breakfast and picked your clothes, and it was like every morning was a challenge to see if he could convince you to take a trip to the bedroom in your work clothes. He'd succeeded twice, and you were late to work both times. He hadn't been successful since, earning soft swats of your hand and gentle shoves.

However, this morning – you did it all on your own. Heeseung had recently taken on a new case and it was cutting into his sleep. He came home not even an hour before you woke up, several apologetic calls and texts throughout the night before you fell asleep at midnight without him.

You tucked him in, planting kisses across his face as you shrugged your coat on. He didn't stir, and you packed his breakfast and lunch and left it on the table. You took the long way, playing the same soft jazz station he did every morning.

One of your patients had called to reschedule, so you'd have an early afternoon home. You got a text from Heeseung moments after arriving at the clinic, complaining about why you didn't wake him up to take you – only for him to call you at noon and say he'd barely gotten up for work. You'd laughed and teased him about thinking he'd be able to take you to work when he clearly needed the rest, only to hear Sunghoon tell your lovebird of a husband to get off the phone and focus.

It'd been nearly four hours since then, and you were about to wrap up with Chaeyoung.

"I found him on social media, you know. His mom posted a congratulatory post, he works in the same town. He's a lieutenant at the Seventh Precinct." She picked at her nails, a frown on her lips as you try not to show your shock at her words. "Who, your best friend?" "Yes. He's married now, too. I couldn't find anything about her, though. His parents didn't post anything about the wedding but a backshot of him and the bride." She sighs, and you think back. You'd both asked his parents to keep it private, and they both chose that photo to post across their social media to boast to their friends. You'd appreciated it so deeply that you bought them a rice cooker for Christmas that year.

"Do you plan on going to see him at some point?" You ask smoothly, refilling her glass of water as she shrugs. "I planned on going today, actually. I'm just…nervous. I had a friend drop me off today, and I'd be going alone. I feel like I'd need a support system." "I can go with you, if you'd like. I'm headed that way anyway." The words tumbled out before you could stop them, and her eyes widened with surprise before she smiled. "You'd do that?" "Of course. This is a big step for you, you know? I'd just have to make some calls, I know that precinct happens to be rather finicky with visitors." You shrug, feeling the pit in your stomach grow deeper as you wonder how you're going to tell Heeseung. She nods excitedly, and you excuse yourself, walking down the hall so nothing can be heard through the door.

The line rings three times before Heeseung picks up.

"Hey, baby. What's up?" "You can't be mad at me. Promise you won't get mad." You rush out, and he laughs. "I won't be mad. At least, I don't think I'll be. Are you okay?" "She wants to meet you. She said she's going over there today, and my stupid ass offered to drive her over because I'm going home early, anyway." You're wincing as the line goes silent, before your husband sighs. "Oh, babygirl." You can picture him pinching the bridge of his nose, the particular pet name only really slipping when he's stressed. "I'm sorry, honey." "No, no. It's fine, just..let me get some stuff settled, I'll let Minseo know to let you through without issues." He trails off, before another sigh is heard. "Does she know we're married?" "She found that back shot from our wedding. She doesn't know it's me." You sigh shakily, and your husband only echoes it back. "Alright, I'll let the guys know. Will you be in the room? I don't think I can do this alone." "Yes, of course. I won't be there as your wife, though, if that's…fine. Just think of it as that one time we roleplayed."

Your husband snorts, "Babe, that was the most awkward thing ever." "Because you can't hold character! But don't worry, we'll spin that one back someday." You hum affirmatively, earning a soft laugh. "I love you, baby. I'll see you in what, thirty?" "I'd run red lights for you if it wasn't illegal and dangerous." You shrug, despite him not being able to see you. He's probably rolling his eyes, a click of his tongue coming through the phone. "Be good, honey. I'll see you. Love you." "I will. Love you." You shoot a few texts off to the other detectives as the line hangs up, before sliding back into your office and seeing Chaeyoung sprawled across the couch with her arm over her eyes. "You alright in here?" Your soft chuckle startles her, and she straightens quickly, brushing her hair out of her face. "Sorry, I'm nervous." "Not to worry. They know me well, so don't be startled if anyone says anything." You smile as you grab your coat, before floating over to your computer and clicking around. "Ready to go? We can even stop and get a little drink for the drive." "You're such a girl, I love it." She giggles, and you feel your stomach sink as you shake your head with fake amusement. You feel awful lying to her – she'd been so open and honest, warming up to you incredibly fast. She eagerly bounces alongside you as you walk to your car after gathering your belongings and locking your office, slipping into your passenger seat as you quickly buckle yourself in.

The ride is full of nervous chatter from her and you drop your guard a bit, opting to talk to her about Heeseung through memories. You tell her about your first date, and she's amused, telling you about her first date with her husband – talking about how the two of them wound up getting lost in Busan because he'd forgotten his way around a smaller part of town. You only smiled throughout.

You arrived at the precinct with an iced coffee from a shop a block away, Chaeyoung holding an Americano as she nervously chewed her lip. You spoke to Minseo softly, your eyes pointed as she nodded – it seemed Heeseung had vetted everyone before your arrival. "Go ahead, Dr. Lee. Lieutenant Lee should be in his office, his schedule is clear for the afternoon." "Thank you, Minseo. Take a break soon, okay?" You give her a warm smile and this time, she returns it, before printing your visitor stickers and giving one to Chaeyoung. Her fingers tremble as she sticks it on her denim jacket, and you see Sunghoon staring intently in your direction before you give him a dirty look.

"Dr. Lee! Good to see you, it's been a while." He wanders over, draping his arm over your shoulders as you try not to groan in annoyance. "Detective Park, always a pleasure." "Sunghoon?" You hear Chaeyoung whisper, and he glances over at her with a mock look of surprise. "Yes? Do I know you?" She opens her mouth, but you quickly shake your head, reaching for her hand. "Later. I promise you'll have time."

"Sorry." She mumbles, but she looks over her shoulder at Sunghoon for a bit as you walk through the precinct. You note the way her eyes widen at the sight of Jake and Jay, their serious faces contorting to ones of confusion at her longing glances. They all pretend like their hearts aren't racing out of their chests as you knock on Heeseung's door, hearing an affirmative sound to come in.

"Lieutenant Lee." You poke your head in, squeezing Chaeyoung's hand in yours as your husband looks up. You fight the urge to say he looks handsome in his white button down and blue suit jacket, but he stands before you can say anything else.

"Dr. Lee, always a pleasure to see you. How can I help you?" He opens the door further, and you can almost hear the way he thanks his years of training for the stoicism on his face as he sees Chaeyoung. You pull her into the office as he steps out of the way, her eyes wide as you sit her down and quickly close the blinds, sticking your tongue out at Sunghoon for good measure.

You almost forget Heeseung has a few photos of you on his desk, and you look over your shoulder to see them all facing the wall behind his chair. You nearly sigh in relief, but clear your throat instead as you sit next to Chaeyoung. Heeseung smiles softly, checking his watch.

"How can I help you, ladies? Oh, I'm Lieutenant Lee Heeseung. At your service." He extends his hand, noting the way hers trembles as she takes it. He gives it a firm shake, before glancing at her again. "You look…kind of familiar. Have we met before?" "I can't." She whispers, her hand gripping onto the sleeve of your coat as you nod, before clearing your throat. "It's okay. You want me to talk?" She nods without a word, and you give Heeseung a pleading look. "So, we have a bit of a…predicament." "Right, as one would assume." He nods slowly, and you note the way he nervously chews his lip before taking a seat on the opposite side of the couch. "Are you in danger, or some sort of trouble?" He clicks a pen from his pocket, opening a drawer from the side table to take out a notepad.

"More like we have some answers to a case that went cold a few years back." You hear him hum, the pen not touching the paper as he looks up. "Alright, should I pull up some records?" "If you'd like, but it was a Missing Persons case you were involved with. Do you remember when we talked about it when we first met? The Cha Soyoung case?" "Ah…right. Right." He clears his throat, and you can see the tears beginning to well in his eyes as he blinks them back. "That case has long been dry, with lots of dead ends. Everyone in the precinct is familiar with it. Last update was, what, three years ago? Some sightings a few miles away." "Lieutenant, this is Jeon Chaeyoung." You introduce her properly, her eyes peering at him over your shoulder. He blinks, nodding slowly. "Formerly known as Cha Soyoung." He tilts his head at your words, as if he didn't already know. He stares blatantly, and you make her scoot up a bit so he can get a better look at her face. His eyes scan her repeatedly, before he stands up and moves to his desk, opening a drawer and taking out one of the many missing posters you used to put up every week. He looks at it for a moment, and sighs shakily. "You know, I appreciate you coming by–" "Hee, it's me." She blurts, a few tears rolling down her face as you see a pained look on your husband's face. He nibbles on his lip, his eyes full of stress as he looks at you. She stands up, and Heeseung tongues his cheek as he shakes his head. "Soyoung had a widow's peak, and a birthmark on her neck." "Heeseung, please. I know you're upset, and I…I'm sorry. I've missed you..." She trails off, and you note the way he's near tears, looking away from her, the paper crumpling in his hand as he clears his throat. "Dr. Lee, can I see you outside?"

Chaeyoung gives you a look of despair, and you just pat her shoulder with an apologetic look as you watch Heeseung storm out. "I'll talk to him, don't worry." She opens her mouth to speak, but she just sighs. Nodding, she takes a seat, and you tighten your coat around you as you follow your husband out. He's in the break room a few feet away, and he nearly shuts the door with a slam as you slip inside. His arm reaches for you, pulling him into you roughly and squeezing you so hard you can't breathe for a moment. "I can't do this. I'm not strong enough, Y/N." His voice is unsteady, but you snake your arms around his waist with a hum. "You know, I was worried. I was beginning to think you were going to let this all just…go. You are strong enough, and you can do this.. I know this is scary, it's so overwhelming. I know you, though. You're Lee Heeseung, you don't give up on anything. It's been almost a decade and you've worked so hard to get here. Don't you want to see the fruit of your hard work?" Your voice is soft but stern, and your husband only whimpers pitifully into your shoulder. You coo, running your hand down the nape of his neck as you sway the two of you gently. "I love you, baby. I believe you can get through this. You deserve a happy ending to it all. So many years of stress won't be good for your hairline." He actually snorts at your joke, but the tears continue nonetheless as he moves away, pouting as he sits in one of the chairs. You wipe your hands on his cheeks gently, offering him a tissue from your pocket as you squat in front of him. "It's gonna be okay. I promise." "I don't want to make amends. I don't think I can forgive her for this." He sniffles, and you nod in understanding. "That's okay, too. You don't need to be her friend again, even if that's what she wants. You owe her nothing, and vice versa." "I love you." He whines, covering his face with his hands as you laugh softly. "I know, I love you too, Hee."

"No, seriously, I'd ask you to marry me again if we weren't already married." He grabs your hands quickly, and you nearly lose your balance as he jerks you forward, enveloping you in a crushing embrace. "Submit your vacation paperwork and we can renew our vows instead." "I love you so much!" He cries into your coat. You can't help but laugh out loud, a bit of shock running through you as you take in his very big emotional outburst. "I know, I know! Now please, get it together. We've got to get back, and you need to talk to her. The poor girl is vibrating out of her skin."

"Kiss me." He pouts, looking up at you as you stand. You roll your eyes. "After. Promise." "I need it for encouragement. Be the wind beneath my wings, babe." He begs, making you sigh. "One kiss, and keep your tongue in your mouth." "Two kisses to make up for the lack of tongue." He counters, and you smack his arm before pressing your lips to his. His hands instinctively hold your waist, your own moving to hold his cheeks gently. It's slow and sweet, and you pull away as his teeth nip at your lower lip.

“Stop that." You brush two more chaste kisses on his lips, a pout appearing as you squeeze his hand. "Come on, we have to." "I love you." He repeats for the umpteenth time, and you know he's finding comfort in knowing that you both feel the same and are there for moral support. "I love you, Hee. Now, let's go." The other detectives pretend they don't notice the way you hold his hand tightly as you both exit the break room, Heeseung ducking his head to hide his teary eyes as you open the door to his office. You pop your head in, seeing a rather disheveled Chaeyoung on the couch.

"How're we feeling?" You call gently, squeezing Heeseung's hand behind you before you let go. She gives you a thumbs down as she wipes her eyes, and Heeseung clears his throat behind you as he carefully slips past. She shifts as he does so, and you shut the door behind you. He sits across from her carefully, her eyes shimmering with tears as she peers up at you.

Heeseung does the same, before glancing at your wedding rings. They're snug on your finger, and you carefully thumb at them as you gingerly take a seat on the couch next to Chaeyoung. You give him a pointed look, and he sighs, running his hand through his hair.

"I'm sorry, Hee." She whispers, and he nods. "I'm sure." "I really am. You would've talked me out of it, I know you."

Heeseung's hands flex on his knees, "You could've talked to me, at least. You could've said literally anything. You just up and left and expected no one would care." "You don't get it, Hee. I felt so much pressure from everyone around me, I was so tired of pretending like I wanted any of that for myself. I didn't want to take over the company, you knew that." She tries to reason, but you can tell he's fighting himself from saying anything out of line as he takes a deep breath.

"It's always what I knew and what you knew, but you clearly forgot the fact that you were my best friend. Since we were kids, and the most painful part of this all is confirming that you didn't trust me that entire time. There's no coming back from this." 

She's silent as he picks at his nails, before she speaks softly. "Don't you at least want to know how I'm doing?" He scoffs quietly, folding his hands in his lap. "Sure. Tell me everything you've built for yourself while I've spent a decade agonizing about whether or not you're alive." His tone is harsh and you find yourself giving him a hard look, your jaw tight as she looks down. He doesn't apologize, and you find yourself speaking softly.

"A lot of big feelings here, hm? There's a lot of pain to get through, so…let's not take anything to heart right now." You nod, and Chaeyoung nods next to you as she clears her throat. Heeseung doesn't acknowledge it, opting to bounce his leg.

"I got married. I know you did too, right? During college?" She nods, and he clicks his tongue. 

"Heeseung, be nice." You say his name out of habit, his eyes snapping to you as you wince at your mistake. "Didn't know we were on a first-name basis, Dr. Lee." "You know what I mean." You roll your eyes, and Heeseung sighs. "Yeah, I got married in college right after I turned twenty-one. Seven years ago."

"You're awfully young to be a Lieutenant." She says softly, and he struggles not to roll his eyes. "Doesn't take much to get promoted when you're constantly mulling over cases and neglecting other things for someone who didn't want to be found. You could've called, you know."

"Could I have? Because it seems like you hate me for doing what's best for me." Her eyes are narrowed now, and he scoffs. "I think I'm allowed to hate you for all its fucking worth at this point. You abandoned me nine years ago, you just up and left without a word! Do you know how many birthdays I had to spend answering questions about you instead of celebrating with my loved ones? You know how many date nights I shoved aside with my wife because I was here, hoping I'd get a crumb of knowing that you're at least alive? Do you understand how much of my life has gone into this?!" Heeseung is starting to lose his patience, but it seems Chaeyoung had been ready to blow her top for years.

"What about me, Heeseung?! You think I liked always being on the fucking sidelines, waiting for you to notice me? I had to fucking disappear for you to care about me? For you to look my way even once, I had to uproot my entire life? Is that what it had to fucking come to?!" 

Your lips part at her words, Heeseung's eyes widening before they narrow. "Are you serious? That's what you want to attribute this to? I didn't reciprocate your feelings so now I'm the bad guy? You fucking left, instead of communicating with anyone. You made that decision, no one forced you to take that road." "I did what I had to, and the fact that you never wanted to be with me despite us literally being the perfect love story was just the cherry on top. It was my catalyst and I hope you know that I resent you for making me feel so undesirable." She huffs, and you clear your throat as Heeseung glowers. 

"I think…we've lost our way a bit. This was more about reconnecting, I assumed it'd be a bit more peaceful. The blame game gets us nowhere." You sigh, running a hand through your hair. Chaeyoung takes a deep breath, struggling not to roll her eyes before pulling her phone out. "This is my husband. You'd like him, he plays bass and he produces music for an entertainment company. His name is Jungkook, we got married two years ago." Heeseung gives you a glance, your eyes nervous as you breathe out.

"Everything alright?" He asks gently, and you know it's his way of asking if he can talk about you. Your eyes are nervous, but you nod anyway, playing with the hem of your dress. Chaeyoung gives you a once over, patting your knee with a smile. 

"I'm sorry, I know this must be stressful. I should've never taken your offer, Dr. Lee." "No, I think this was necessary, really. For the three of us." You shrug, attempting to appear nonchalant. Her smile doesn't reach her eyes as Heeseung clears his throat, standing up to grab the photo of you off his desk. It's you on your honeymoon – the two of you took it the summer after you graduated from college. You were wearing a white dress and it was one of the most picturesque candids in your collection. He gives you a waywards glance, but you only nod as he sits down.

"This is my wife. You'd like her, she plays piano and crochets and does cross-stitch. She's a therapist. Her name is Y/N, we got married seven years ago." He flips the picture, and you watch her eyes widen out of your peripheral vision. She takes it gently, her manicured thumb stroking your smiling face. She looks pale as she turns to you, her jaw tight.

"Chaeyoung, I'm sorry." You whisper, and she gives you a glare. "Are you? You knew this entire time and you let me open up to you about everything? Did you tell him, too? Did you tell everyone here?" Her voice only raises as she scoots away from you, and you feel your cheeks heat as you run a hand through your hair. "We spent years looking for you, Chaeyoung. There were so many sleepless nights, so many tears, so much stress over you. This is hard for me too, you know." "What, loving a man who is nothing but a shell of a person? Yeah, I'm sure you loved filling his fucking cup until it overflowed while he casted you aside." She sneers, and you feel your chest tighten. "I'm sure it felt great being stuck in your house, wondering when the fuck he'd be home because he was here. Looking at case files, talking to forensics, doing anything instead of being home with you." Your throat burns as you clear it, but Heeseung interrupts as he takes the photo of you back. "Chaeyoung, you're obviously angry. I can't blame you for that, but I also won't allow you to speak to Y/N like this. She's here to help both of us." "Yeah, well you can take your help and fucking shove it, Y/N." She huffs, gathering her coat from the couch cushion. You stand quickly, holding your hands out to deter her from leaving. "Chaeyoung, please let me explain–" "Explain what? How you're a lying bitch?" She spits, and Heeseung's eyes narrow as he opens his mouth to say something, only for you to wave him off. Your gaze is unreadable as she continues to berate you. "You want to explain why you let me agonize over Heeseung for three weeks, and how you listened to me tell you how I felt about him and said nothing? What kind of fucking therapist are you?" "A dumb one." You say softly, "I didn't tell you I was married to Heeseung because that's none of your business. Getting you involved in my personal life could be incredibly damaging to my career, but I did it because I've known about you since before I met Heeseung." Her eyes are aflame as she stares you down, but you don't budge.

"I don't fight over men. I never have, I never will. What I will do, though, is tell you that though I knew mixing my personal life and my career could be a disaster, I did it because I love Heeseung. You suffered, you left because of all the pressure you felt. I understand that pressure, too. I know what it's like for your family to expect something from you that you simply don't want to provide, or feel like you can't."

Her eyes well with tears as she looks away.

"Just as you suffered, though, we did, too." You gesture at the space between you and Heeseung, and he steps slightly closer. "I cannot tell you the nights we spent walking all over town and putting posters anywhere they'd allow us to. I cannot even begin to explain the stress everyone felt, all of your friends, all of your family members because you just disappeared. I wasn't your friend, and I didn't know you personally…but it affected me, too." A tear falls down her face, and you reach to wipe it with the sleeve of your coat.

"There were so many nights that I'd be in Heeseung's dorm just talking about you. He'd tell me so many stories, he's shown me so many photos of you together. He's told me every piece of your life that he knows, and you've sat in my office for three weeks and done the same for him. Things I already knew, and things I didn't." She silently sits back down, letting the tears drip down her face.

"I know it's painful, to want something or someone so bad and have it be just out of your reach. I know it sounds like I'm bragging, or maybe like I'm trying to rub it in your face but I promise I'm not. Loving Heeseung has not been easy, there were many times I wanted to give up. There were nights he'd be locked in the home office, overthinking himself into a bottle of bourbon." You laugh softly, taking Heeseung's seat across from her. He stands behind you, his hand running up and down your back.

"There were times I wanted to scream at him, I wanted to hurt his feelings because he made me feel neglected. He'd come home late, he'd miss dinner, he wouldn't be around to just hang out. You told me during our first session that you and Jungkook dance together all the time, that he sings you to sleep. I cannot tell you how envious I would have been, had I met you just a week earlier." 

Her gaze meets yours, surprised. "What?"

"I mean what I say and I say what I mean." Heeseung speaks up, his voice a lot softer. "I was not a good husband. I'm still not, but it's not your fault. It's my fault, I wanted so badly to know that you were at least okay that I completely neglected Y/N. I wasn't present, emotionally or physically." "I knew it wouldn't be easy, loving someone like Heeseung." You interrupt him, "I knew loving someone who had gone through something so gut wrenching would be one of the most difficult things I'd ever have to do. I wanted it so bad, Chaeyoung. I wanted to love him, and be the glue that held him together. I wanted to be the person he woke up with in the mornings and the person he kissed goodnight. I wanted to be there, no matter what it took." "So you allowed all of it." She murmurs, and you sigh. 

"I fought it. I didn't want to brave the storm that was Lee Heeseung in college. But like a moth to a flame, I stayed. I got hurt time and time again, but the good outweighed the bad so much. I saw so much potential, I saw so much kindness and I knew in my heart I could help it flourish. And now, we're here." "Don't you feel jealous?" She asks, making you smile sadly before nodding. "Of course I felt jealous. I knew there was a girl that knew my husband more than I ever would, and I envied that. I wanted to know everything there was to know, but I had to come to terms with the fact that it simply couldn't be. We're ever-evolving, and while you may have known each other for so many years…you've both changed so much." She closes her eyes, her chipped nails digging into the fabric of her peacoat. Heeseung's hand rubs circles into your back, before you feel him squeeze your shoulder. "I don't hate you." She says suddenly, her eyes on Heeseung. He clicks his tongue, "I don't expect you to. I haven't done anything to you to make myself worthy of hating."

"Why not me?" She mumbles, and Heeseung's eyes close as he pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Just tell me that." "I can't do that to you, Chaeyoung." He shakes his head, and you hear her scoff. "Just do it, it'll make getting over you a lot easier. I already know you're married, I'm not going to make a fucking move." "I wouldn't allow it, either." He says through gritted teeth, making you shift in your chair, clearing your throat. "Would you like for me to step out?" "No." They say in unison, and Heeseung holds onto your shoulders as he looks at Chaeyoung. "Don't you think your family wants to know you're okay? It's been nine years." "What, do you keep up with them? Do they care about anything else besides that stupid company now?" She rolls her eyes, her jaw tight as she stares at her boots. "Your father sold it." Heeseung speaks softly, "He sold it not even a week after you left. Your sister bought it from him and funded half of the search party that looked for you for a year." Her eyes stay narrowed as her lips purse. "Doesn't mean they care. It was always the company this, the company that. Just like you, Hee." She glares up at him, "Focus on school, Soya. Let's study, Soya. We got into college and you just stopped wanting to hang out like we used to." "I'm 'just like them' because I prioritized my studies? Because I was on scholarship while mommy and daddy paid your way? My fucking bad, Soya." He scoffs, making her scowl. "See? You're just like them." "You're ungrateful! You've always been so blind at how things were just handed to you, you were always so fucking out of touch with everything! Your father had an entire company, a collection of businesses that he sold because you just wanted to up and leave! I don't think you will ever understand how privileged your life has been, even in the years you've been gone." His laugh is humorless as he shakes his head, and you clear your throat. 

"I think maybe this has been enough for one day." "You don't get to decide that, Y/N. I still want an answer. Why. Not. Me." She's standing now, her face tear-stained but her eyes…they're full of fury. Towards who, you're not entirely sure anymore.

You look up at Heeseung, his jaw clenched as he runs a hand through his hair. "You just don't have what I need. I won't be with someone who can't make me feel fulfilled in all aspects of life, or someone who doesn't share the same goals as me. You don't see the world the way I do, and you never have." "And she does?" She gestures at you, her voice thick as her eyes gloss over once more. "Yes. She does. She is everything I could ever ask for and so much more than I will ever deserve." He folds his hands in front of him, "There is always going to be something in this life you cannot have, whether it be an object, a person, even a stick of gum. You can't hold onto that resentment forever, it will make you miserable. You shouldn't live your life that way, not when you have a husband who loves you and a life people would kill for. Not when someone you said was your best friend over and over has someone who loves him." She glares at him, her chest rising with shallow breaths. She shakes her coat off, pulling it over her arms and walking towards the door. Her hand wraps around the doorknob as she looks at the two of you, the tick in her jaw growing tighter as she sees you stand.

"You don't have to act like this, Chaeyoung. You don't have to keep running away, you'll never solve anything this way." "You're married to the man I've been in love with since I was six years old. You lied to me, knowing I was in pain about this entire situation, and you stand here and try to act innocent. You're just as guilty as I am, so you don't get to tell me how I get to act, Y/N." She whispers, a singular tear rolling down her face as she turns to Heeseung. 

"You can tell my parents, and whoever else you please. Y/N can give them my information. I won't be coming back to Seoul, and I won't be visiting your practice again. Do not contact me further, and I won't make a scene."

She throws the door open, revealing the gaggle of detectives bunched around the door. Sunghoon nearly falls into the office as they disperse like bugs, catching himself on the doorframe. Chaeyoung stares up at him, his own eyes flickering to you. "You okay in here?"

"Fine." Heeseung replies curtly, and Chaeyoung scoffs, pushing past Sunghoon with a scowl on her face. She stalks through the precinct, and Minseo stares wide eyed as she shoves Jay and Jake out of the way to the double doors. Your eyes never leave her, continuing to stare after her as the doors shut.

You hear a disappointed sigh from your husband, and you peer up at him as Sunghoon shuts the door with his lips pressed into a thin line. He looks a mess, and you move to comfort him as Jay opens the door. He strides in confidently, a quirk in his brow as he pulls his hand out of his pocket, a new pack of cigarettes in his hand.

"Shall we?" It doesn't take much convincing to get you and Heeseung out the backway of the precinct, and you find yourself resting your forehead against the rough brick of the building. Jay lights your cigarette, sliding it between your fingers as Heeseung lights his own. You mumble a thanks, before holding it between your lips.

"Long day, huh?" He starts, his words muffled as he holds his own between his lips, the flicker of the lighter catching your attention. You nod, pushing off the brick wall to face the two men. Jay gives you a once over, "New dress?" "Storage." You shake your head, blowing smoke from your lips as Heeseung paces back and forth. "How's your girlfriend?" "Not my girlfriend, just a fling. Cut her off a bit ago. Feeling good, though." He nods, and Heeseung walks by you, your hand reaching for him. He takes it, leaning against the wall as he pulls you to him. He spins you around, making you face Jay as he wraps his arm in front of you. "PDA? From Lee Heeseung?" Jay acts shocked as you snort, closing your eyes as you lean your head back onto his shoulder. "You'd be surprised what Lee Heeseung has been up to these days." "Mmh, do tell." He shrugs, flicking the ash off his cigarette. "Did you know sharing details of your sex life to your friends is considered inappropriate social behavior?" You smirk, and he raises his brow.

"Oh, don't tell me the people who have been married for seven years are fucking. Oh man, holy shit." Jay sarcastically rolls his eyes, holding his hand to his chest as if he were clutching pearls. "Like animals." Heeseung speaks for the first time since you stepped outside, making your eyes widen as Jay's do the same. You glance up at him, watching the way he throws the cigarette butt onto the floor and stomps it out with his foot. He plucks yours from your fingers, slotting it between his lips for a slow drag before giving it back. His lips have a layer of glitter on them from your lipgloss.

"Hee, you cannot say that." "Who cares? It's Jay. It's not like he's going to ask to watch us fuck." He shrugs, making your cheeks grow hot as you turn to Jay to apologize, who is looking away with red ears. Heeseung looks over, blowing smoke out of his lips as he speaks. "Dude." "You fucking brought it up, dickwad." Jay scoffs, before stomping out his own cigarette butt. You don't speak, opting to run a hand through your hair as Heeseung sighs.

"Did you guys hear anything through the door?" "Every word. Walls are thin, you know." Jay nods, offering another cigarette. Heeseung takes it, sighing as Jay hands him the lighter. "I cannot believe she's been in love with you since you were kids." "She's not in love with me, she's infatuated with the idea of me." He rolls his eyes, fiddling with the lighter. "Her parents used to fight in front of us all the time, and when we were seventeen she told me that she wanted something better than that. Admirable, truly, but she was never going to find that with me." He holds the blue flame to the cigarette, before handing it back to Jay. "Wasn't she your first kiss?" "Ugh, yeah. I only said yes because she kept talking about how Mina, you remember her sister Mina? Mina had her first kiss at sixteen." He rolls his eyes again, his arm around you tightening slightly as he leans his head back onto the building. "I think a part of me hates her." "That's valid." You and Jay say in unison, before Jay tilts his head for you to continue. You shake yours, shrugging as Heeseung continues to talk. "She always pushed for us to become more and I just didn't want that. She lacks so much compassion, and that's why her father wanted her to take over the company. She's cold and calculated and that's why I befriended her in the first place, because no one wanted to be her friend. She was mean to everyone, but I guess she learned how to fake it well." You'd never heard Heeseung speak of her this way, but he clicks his tongue before you can ask anything. "I don't want to keep talking about her. I still have to call her parents, fuck." He runs his hand over his face. The three of you sigh in unison, a snort from Jay as he notices it, "Well…I can say that I'm glad to know she's alive, even if we don't let her back into our lives."

"Yeah." Heeseung nods, taking a final drag from the cigarette in his mouth before dropping it and putting it out. "I guess that's the silver lining in this all. Nine years…man." You nod silently, before patting his arm. "We can call on Monday when I get home from work. I have to get all her information, anyway, and remove her from my patient registry so her insurance stops getting processed." "Shit, I forgot about that." Heeseung groans, slumping slightly as Jay laughs. "You guys head on home, we can get paperwork processed to actually close the case. We'll see you on Tuesday, Lieu." "Tuesday?" He echoes absently, and Jay scoffs. "Fine, Wednesday. Is that too much time away for you, workaholic?"

Your laugh makes Heeseung look up, watching you as you put out your cigarette. The two of you only indulged every once in a while, and Heeseung never fully took the habit up after you refused to kiss him one night after a smoke. Jay bids the two of you goodnight as you all walk back into the building, his box of cigarettes now broken in and Heeseung beelining for his office to grab his coat. "Hungry?" You ask as he shrugs it on, and he shakes his head. "Wanna go home and shower, go to bed. Wanna cuddle?"

He never asks. You can’t bring yourself to say no, not that you’d want to anyway.

It's easy with you. You end up leaving your car in the precinct parking lot, dropping the keys on Jake's desk with the promise of dinner if he dropped it off at your house before morning. He rolled his eyes but agreed. The entire precinct watched as you left, Heeseung's arm holding you close – a sight they'd never seen.

"Can I be the little spoon tonight?" He asks as he buckles you in, and you press a kiss to his temple. "Yeah, Hee."

Monday, 6:32pm

The two of you spent the weekend processing everything that happened. You reluctantly left your husband's side for work this morning, driving yourself as he slept soundly. Your day felt incredibly slow, your hands aching to feel his warm skin under yours.

You'd felt the need to coddle him all weekend – you made his favorite meals, you massaged his back, you even made him a new pair of slacks. A navy blue this time, his smile shy as he modeled them for you on Sunday night. The two of you cuddled for hours, Heeseung burrowing his face in any crevice you'd allow. He kissed your skin all over, mumbles of I love you and hold me tighter falling from his lips as you spent the passing hours in your bed.

Your last patient of the day was a young girl in her twenties, her eyes constantly glossed over with tears as she tried to get comfortable with you. She wound up sobbing, your chest aching as you tried to comfort her. By the time she left, she looked much better – and she told you, thank you for your help. You have no idea how long I've been holding that in. It was enough to make your chest swell with pride as you drove home, a smile on your lips as you picked up dinner and played soft jazz on the radio. You felt the weight of the world slip onto your shoulders as you pulled into your driveway, killing the engine as you fished your house key out of your bag.

You'd contacted Chaeyoung's insurance the moment you got to the clinic, and pulled her from your patient registry without a second thought. You shoved her file into your bag and pushed the thought of it all out of your mind, choosing to focus all your energy on your patients and the way your shoes hurt your feet.

"Baby?" You called into the house as you opened the door, kicking your heels off with a sigh of relief. The cold tile of the foyer against your hot skin felt like Heaven, a shiver running down your spine as you set the bag of takeout down on the dinner table. You stop to listen, but hear nothing. "Baby, are you home?" You walk down the hall, reaching to take your earrings out as you cross the threshold to the bedroom. You see your husband laying on his back with his headphones on, the light off and curtains drawn. He wouldn't be able to see you if his eyes were open, but you can see him thanks to the light in the hallway behind you. His arms are crossed over his face, but you hear the familiar quiet sob fall from his lips. You feel your chest ache at the sight, but you don't interrupt him. You merely move your hands from your ears, leaving the earrings he gifted you a few years ago on as you fold your hands behind your back.

You watch him cry for a few minutes, before he groans in disgust. He wipes at his face angrily, sitting up abruptly with his eyes wide. He jumps as he sees you, his hand flying to his chest as you smile. "Hi." "Holy shit, babe. Don't do that." He takes his headphones off, carding his fingers through his hair as you shrug. "Maybe don't lay on our bed in the dark when I call for you twice." He rolls his eyes as you near the bed, your palms cool against his skin. "Anything you want to talk about?" Your thumbs wipe his cheeks as he shakes his head.

"Same old, just angry at the entire ordeal." He mumbles, his hands finding your hips. You hum, pressing a kiss to his hairline. "Well, I brought dinner. Come eat with me." "What did you get?" His voice is muffled as he buries his face in your stomach, the buttons of your vest annoying him as he huffs. You card your fingers through his hair, dragging your nails along his scalp, "I stopped at Pasta La Vista." "What happened to no more cheesy pun restaurants?" He snorts, and you pinch his cheek. "Ah, but I love going to those places with you. I love you, you know." 

He sighs, reaching up to turn the light on. His fingers tug gently on the pull cord, the soft yellow light illuminating the room suddenly. You both wince as your eyes adjust, blinking rapidly before looking at each other. His mouth drops, making your head tilt. "Something wrong?" "Babe. Are you serious?"

His voice is whiny, paired with the splotchy cheeks and swollen lips from his crying. You furrow your brow in confusion, feeling his hands tighten on your hips. "What? Did I do something wrong?" "Be so fucking serious with me right now. Look at what you're wearing." He huffs, pulling at one of your belt loops. You glance down at your outfit, a form-fitting black pinstripe suit you hadn't worn in a few years. It had a matching vest, one you paired with a white button down underneath. You'd worn your white Hot Chicks, much to the dismay of your poor feet. "Do I look bad?" You ask softly, glancing at yourself in the mirror when he gets your attention by pulling at your belt buckle. "Are you kidding me? You look fucking amazing! You haven't worn this in ages, where the hell did you find it?" "You could've started with that! You had me thinking I did something wrong!" You huff, swatting at his shoulder as his fingers fiddle with the buttons of your vest. "I'm sorry, but you really caught me off guard. Fuck, have these always fit like this?" He runs his hands down the back of your thighs, and you feel your cheeks heat slightly as you shove his hands off you.

"Stop feeling me up and come eat dinner. We have things to do before we can turn in for the night." You remind him as you turn around to walk out of the bedroom when you feel his fingers pinch the swell of your ass. You reach behind you and smack his hand away, "Stop it!" "Fine, fine. Let me…get cleaned up I guess. I feel gross." He groans, rolling his eyes as he slides off the bed. You make your way to the kitchen without any more of Heeseung's touching, and you carefully plate everything up. You know he'd be content just eating on the couch with a show on, but you need something to busy yourself as your mind whirls with the idea of calling Chaeyoung's parents.

What would you even say? "Nice to meet you, now let me tell you all about how I betrayed your daughter when she came to me for therapy!" You groan, running your hands through your hair as you overwhelm yourself with thoughts. You thought you'd be fine, but you sort of thank your stars that you managed to make it through work without thinking about it. You'd rather be home and agonizing over it than anywhere else.

In all your thinking, you don't hear Heeseung walk into the kitchen. Your head is low between your shoulders as you hold onto the sink, taking deep breaths. You jolt when you feel his hand on your back, a concerned look in his eyes. "Are you okay?" "Yeah, fine. Sorry, just…thinking." You sigh, before pushing off the sink. He gives you a stern look, his hands moving to your waist to pull you into him. “Talk to me.”

You gently bang your forehead against his chest, “What are we even going to tell them?”

A low whistle comes from your husband’s lips, “I have no idea. Promise to still think I’m sexy if I break down?”

You snort, slapping his chest lightly as he smiles down at you. “Emotional vulnerability is sexy, Hee.”

“You want me so bad.” He chides, making you roll your eyes. You try not to let your eyes linger on the muscle of his arms, now showcased by a sleeveless white shirt he must've changed into. “Let’s eat dinner and I’ll take care of whatever hornball issue you have later.”

“Will you keep the suit on?” He asks, brow raised as he scans your face. You rub your temples, before feigning an annoyed sigh. “Yes, Heeseung, I’ll keep the suit on.”

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” He smiles as you try to weasel your way out of his arms, but he holds you tightly. He pins you against the sink, his hand moving to hold your face gently. The tip of his nose touches yours slightly, the same electricity that skin-to-skin contact with your husband causes runs down your spine. “Have I?”

“You’re going to wax poetic after I said I’d keep the suit on to get you off?” You snort, and he rolls his eyes. “I’m going to wax poetic after my wife agrees to some weird shit I ask of her simply because she loves me as I love her.”

You struggle not to roll your eyes, but your warming cheeks give you away. "Please focus on the order of events, will you? Dinner, dreaded call, then whatever freak shit you have in your head. Move it." He grins as he presses a kiss to your forehead, before letting you worm out of his grasp. Dinner is quiet, with neither of you wanting to talk too much in detail about your days. Heeseung would know you were so stressed that you skipped lunch, and you'd know that he'd had to change his pillowcase twice because of how long he'd been crying. It wasn't something either of you wanted to share, but simultaneously, you both knew. "Do you think they'll be happy?" You murmur around a breadstick, a pout on your husband's lips as he chews. "I mean…I would hope so. Mrs. Cha lost her mind when she disappeared." "Define lost her mind." 

He sighs, taking a sip of his water. "I guess the same way I did, but worse. The first year had to have been the worst. No sleep, she barely ate and was having constant breakdowns…but it's different. A mother's love is nothing compared to what I may have felt then." He shrugs, and you find yourself humming in response.

Your eyes are downcast, pushing the remaining pasta around on your plate as he gazes at you. "I'm sorry to have put you through that." "Do you remember our vows? I'd promised I'd be there, always." You say pointedly, and he shakes his head. "I mean, through what happened on Friday. I will never stop apologizing for any of it, I know that in my heart. That day was just too much for you, I saw it in the way you looked at her. She hurt your feelings." "Calling me a bitch is hardly hurting my feelings, I've heard far worse." You snort, but Heeseung leans slightly across the table. "You know that's not what I'm talking about, honey. You're great at your job, you have to know that."

You sigh, "I know, I even had a patient today tell me I helped her a lot and it made me feel really nice. But, I will admit it was a dumb move to keep Chaeyoung as a patient. I should have told her from the get-go who I was and what I knew, and then maybe Friday would've gone differently. If at all, you know." "It's too late to think about what we should have done. We can only look forward, and unfortunately that means we have to make that call to her parents." He slumps in his chair, closing his eyes. "What if I cry?" "Then you cry, honey." You shrug, "I'll be here anyway. We're doing this together." Nothing more is said as the two of you clean up, opting to brush your teeth to remove the taste of the garlic from your tongues. You find yourself reapplying your lipstick, wiping the corners of your lips as you cap the wine red wax. Heeseung sits on the couch with his phone in his hand as you retrieve the file from your purse. He sighs as you walk over, your thigh brushing his as you sit next to him. "Ready?" You ask softly, your fingers flicking the file open. Heeseung sighs inwardly as he dials the number he's known by heart since he was a kid. You drape your leg over his to feel him closer, his hand sliding around your upper thigh as the line rings.

"Cha Residence, Seonmi speaking." 

The woman's voice is tired, and Heeseung squeezes his eyes shut as he speaks. "Hi, Mrs. Cha. It's uhm…it's Heeseung." The line is quiet for a moment, before a gentle sigh is heard. "Hi, sweetheart. Long time." "I know, I'm sorry." He mumbles, earning a soft laugh from her. "Nothing to be sorry for. Are you alright? How's your wife?"

"She's good. She's here, actually. Would you like to say hello?" He holds the phone towards you, and you clear your throat as you say a soft hello. "Oh, hello! Wow, I've never heard you speak, I've only seen photos of you. How are you? Heeseung treating you well, I hope?" You feel your cheeks heat as you respond, "Yeah, yes ma'am. I'm okay, how are you?" "Oh, you know. Same old, struggling. Did you guys need something from me? Maybe something of Soyoung's?" She sounds so tired, it makes your heart ache.

"Actually, we called with an update. If you're in the headspace to hear it." Heeseung says shakily, and you find yourself pressing a kiss to his cheek, stamping your lipstick on his skin. He leans into your lips, and you brush another in the same place before leaning your head on his shoulder.

"Oh, boy. Another sighting, I assume?" Mrs. Cha sounds defeated, and you can hear the clicking of a keyboard in the distance. You clear your throat, and Heeseung holds the phone to you. "I think it's better if my wife tells you." "Sweetheart, please get on with it."

You take the phone gingerly, clearing your throat. "For starters, I'm a therapist in the next town over. I started that job a few weeks back, and I've been taking new patients. Your daughter was one of them." Nothing is heard on the other end, and Heeseung gives you a nod to keep talking. His hand squeezes around your thigh, and you speak again. "She's changed her name, and she's married. I…she talked about everything that led to her disappearance as well as everything going on in her life currently. She's well, and she's established."

"So…you found her?" You hear a soft sob from the other end, your own eyes stinging. "We did. She talked a lot about Heeseung, so I didn't tell her we were married. I drove her to the precinct on Friday to see him again for the first time since she disappeared, and it did not go well, to say the least. However, she did give us permission to share her information with you, and I've got everything in front of me if you've got a pen or something to jot it down." You hear the rustling of paper and pens knocking against each other as someone talks in the background. Mrs. Cha sniffles into the phone, "Go ahead. I'm ready." You read everything out to her, spelling street names and offering to send photos over as well. "And you're sure it's her? You know it?" Mrs. Cha's voice is shaky as you hear a chair get pushed back, and Heeseung replies, "Positive. We wouldn't have called if we weren't sure, I was in denial when Y/N told me." "Do you…should I call her? I know she's angry with me, she must be." Mrs. Cha sounds distant, like she's walking somewhere. "She may be angry, but I'm sure she wouldn't have allowed us to give you her information if she didn't want you to contact her or know of her reappearance." You say gently, and hear Mrs. Cha laugh through her presumed tears.

"You chose the right profession, Y/N. I can see how easily this comes to you." 

Heeseung's eyes widen as he looks down at you, your own lips spread in a shy smile. His eyes speak for themselves – See? Told you.

"Thank you." You murmur, and Heeseung squeezes your leg as he clears his throat. "Well, that's all we really called for. Feel free to keep us updated, we'll get all the paperwork for the case figured out. We can handle our end privately, but you can choose how to go about things on your end." "Thank you, sincerely. I know the last nine years have been grueling for you as well, Heeseung. I hope you know you'll always have a place in our family and our hearts, and you're welcome in our home any time. You as well, Y/N. We'd love to have you over for dinner."

You gape as Heeseung answers gently, saying he'll figure out some dates and get back to her. She agrees, and a soft take care is whispered from your husband before he hangs up.

He leans forward to put his phone and Chaeyoung's file on the coffee table, before sighing. You rest your arm against the back of the couch, smushing your cheek with the heel of your palm. He slumps against the cushions silently, his hand slinking up and down your thigh.

"Feel better? This was somehow under and overwhelming." "Weight off my fucking shoulders, I'll tell you that much." He huffs, rubbing his face in frustration. You hum, reaching to run your fingers through his hair as he turns his head to face you, a pout on his lips. "Why does everything have to suck?" "Does everything suck?" You repeat thoughtfully, looking around your living room. "I mean, consider the good things. We've got this wonderful home, we have our health and your family. We have our jobs. Job market is garbage, you know." He sighs, looking around the room. "Now I just sound ungrateful." You snort, before pushing yourself up and straddling his lap, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. You settle high on his thighs, his hands instinctively coming to rest on your hips. "You're not ungrateful, you're just going through the motions. I honestly thought you'd be worse. That's why this all seems so underwhelming to me, I thought it would be a much bigger ordeal, that you'd be excited to see her." "I would have been, if it weren't for the fact that she left at her own will. A part of me just wishes she would have fucking said something, I could've talked to her. Or her parents, or something, you know?" He's frustrated as you nod, thumbing the lobe of his ear. "Oh, but you can't save everyone. You're only human. I know that's one of the first fates you face when you do the kind of work you do." He huffs, "I just have questions that I won't ever get answers to. It bothers me because no matter what she does or says, it just feels like betrayal over and over again. If we pile the fact that she said all those shitty things to you, it just makes me hate her more."

"Hating people is so taxing, baby." You shrug, "It's not good for the spirit, or your hairline." "Keep making jokes about my hairline, see how that works out for you." He scoffs, making you scrunch your nose at him. "I've been making jokes about your hairline since we met, I think it's worked out just fine. I have this house, I have this couch…" You trail off as you lean closer, brushing your nose with his, his eyes wide as he looks up at you. "I have you, on this couch, in this house and your signature on a paper that says you're my husband. What does that say about you?" "That I like gorgeous women in suits who make fun of me, I guess." He shrugs, his hands squeezing your hips as you brush your lips against his. You move away as he tries to connect your lips, making him roll his eyes. "Just kiss me, will you?" "Is that how we get the things we want?" You pull back, your brow raised as he sighs. This was a game you liked to play every once in a while, knowing that Heeseung easily flustered when you took charge. He reveled in it, sure, but it definitely took him a bit to accept that you called the shots.

"Babe, come on." "Hm, I don't like that answer." Shrugging, you start moving off his lap, earning a groan as he uses his strength to hold your hips flush to his. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Please kiss me, I need it." "You need it?" You scoff, your hands on his shoulders as he blushes, his tongue peeking out to wet his lips. "I need you."

"Yeah? Need me where?" Your eyes look at him expectantly, feeling him shift under you with nerves, looking down. Your gaze doesn't waver as you tilt his chin back up, his eyes full of lust and adoration. "Where?" "Here." His cheeks flushed impossibly deeper as he pouted up at you, moving your fingertips to his lips. He kisses the pads of your fingers, making you coo as you press your lips to the tip of his nose. He chases your lips as you plant kisses around his entire face, stamping your lipstick on his skin carefully. "Baby, please." 

"I love you." You murmur against his lips, making his eyes flutter shut as you finally kiss him. His hands move to your waist, pulling your chest flush to his as you shrug off your suit jacket, tossing it to the side as you gently lick into his mouth. He groans into your mouth, his fingers flexing against your body as you suck on the tip of his tongue. His hips rut up against you slowly, a whine from your throat making you pull away, dragging your lips down his jaw. 

"Can I take care of you, baby?" You murmur against the shell of his ear, making him shiver as you nip at the lobe, a quiet please from his throat. His hands twitch at your sides, soft whines from his lips as you trail your tongue down the slope of his neck. You feel his fingers move to fumble with the buttons of your vest, before he untucks your shirt, sliding his hands slightly under it to feel the heat of your skin against his. 

"I love you so much." He mumbles as you kiss his swollen lips again chastely, your fingers undoing your shirt buttons as he watches your face with low eyes. His hands snake higher on your stomach, before the tips of fingers brush your bare breasts. His eyes widen as he pulls away, jaw falling slack as he sees your lack of undergarments. "Baby." "Just enjoy it." You roll your eyes, shivering as he runs his thumbs over your pebbled nipples. He leans forward slightly, before your hand cards through his hair. "This is not about me." "You said enjoy it. How can I, if you don't let me?" He scoffs, moving your hand from its spot on the nape of his neck, pulling you forward into his mouth. His tongue swirls expertly around the hardened nub, your hand finding and digging into the back of the couch. Heeseung feels his head spinning as he breathes you in, the soft scent of his favorite perfume on your skin. You groan quietly as your hips roll against his, a soft fuck from your lips as he carefully drags his teeth on the sensitive bud. He moves to the other side, your hand tangling in his hair again as he plants wet kisses across your chest. "So perfect for me." He murmurs, flattening his tongue against your nipple as his hands move to undo your belt. He pulls it through the loops within seconds, tossing it aside and palming your ass over your pants, moving you over his bulge slowly. He relishes in the sounds you make, whimpers from your throat making his cock twitch in his pants as he continues to lap at your chest. "Always so fucking beautiful. You make me insane."

You whine in response, pulling his head away from your chest and reconnecting your lips. He feels your hand snake down between your bodies, palming at his hardened cock through his sweatpants. He groans into your mouth, his hips rutting into your hand involuntarily. You slip your tongue in his mouth, letting him messily kiss you back as he tangles a hand in your hair – your own beneath the waistband of his sweatpants, tugging at them gently. He obliges, lifting his hips for you to pull them down to his knees. You pull away from his lips as much as the hand in your hair will allow, your hand wrapping around his leaking cock gently. He shudders as you stroke him, whining against your lips when you pull his hand out of your hair, sliding off his lap and settling between his knees. He lets out a breath as you glance up at him through thick lashes, before pressing a kiss to his inner thigh. His hands move back to your hair, gathering it into a messy ponytail as you continue to drag your lips around his skin, faint lipstick stains marking your path. He feels his stomach cave the moment you swirl your tongue around his tip, a broken moan cutting through the air.

"S'fucking pretty like this…" He groans, watching as you take him deeper, hollowing your cheeks slightly. Your tongue laps at the underside of his cock, following the thick vein as his tip hits the back of your throat. Gagging around him, you feel his hips jerk up involuntarily, a murmured apology as you pull off, shaking your head. "Want it, want you to do that." 

Your ears are watery as you look up at him, your hand wrapped around his shaft as his lips parted in a soft grunt. He wipes his thumb across your lower lip before he takes his cock in his hand, "Beautiful."

You feel your cheeks flush, not responding to the compliment as he opens your mouth for you. You stick out your tongue, making him smirk as he slides the heavy head of his cock on it. You blink up at him before you sink down on him, hearing a soft sigh fall from his lips. He rocks his hips up slowly, throwing his head back with a whimper as you gag around him.

"Feel s'fucking good, baby. Love you so much, fuck…" You feel your skin prickle at the praise, your eyes brimming with tears as the tip of his cock brushes the back of your throat, a groan making him shiver. "Always so good to me…"

You hum as best as you can, feeling his hand tighten in your hair as the tell-tale whimper falls from your husband's lips. He pulls you off almost reluctantly, staring up at the ceiling and biting down on his lip as you look up at him, seeing his chest move in shallow breaths. "Hee–" "Need to feel you." He pulls you off your knees by your wrists, making you slide your knee between his for balance. His lips feel frantic as he kisses you messily, groaning at the slight taste of himself inside your mouth as you try to keep up. "Need to cum inside you, baby." His lips ghost over yours as he unbuttons your slacks, your teeth nipping at his bottom lip as he hooks his thumbs into the belt loops. You let him tug them down, stepping out of them when he snaps the waistband of your underwear against your skin. "Take it off." "What, do you want me to strip for you?" You roll your eyes, and he smirks lightly. "We can spin that back another time. Take it off." You oblige, feeling your husband's hands wrap around your thighs as you kick your underwear off to the side. He pulls you forward, instinctively making you straddle him slightly before he looks up, his hand snaking between your thighs. "Do you need–"

You shake your head quickly as he glides his fingers through your wet folds, his eyes widening as you shiver. He holds his hand up to the light, your arousal stringy between his fingers, gathering around his wedding band. He peers up at you, "Really?" "Shut up." Your cheeks burn as he scoffs out a laugh, before running his tongue over his fingers. "All fours, please." He tilts his head towards the free space on the couch, your eyes narrowing as you do as he says, hearing the thwip of his shirt being pulled over his head. 

"You know," You mumble as you settle on your elbows, "This is not-ah!" The warm feeling of Heeseung's tongue on your clit makes you jolt, and you feel him smile into your skin as his hands rest on your hips. He groans as you push your hips against his face, your fingers digging into the couch cushion as you whine into the brown suede. "So fucking wet, for what? A little kissing?" He's talking down to you, amused at the way your pussy clenches around his tongue, your whimper muffled by your shirt sleeve, "I love you." "Yeah? My messy girl loves me?" His voice is clearer now, and you feel his hand grip your hip as he drags the tip of his cock through your folds with a hiss. You push back against him with a whine, earning a firm smack to the back of your thigh. "Behave. You can wait."

You can hear him mutter under his breath as he ruts against you, his breathing shaky as he holds you steady. You feel him sink inside you slowly, the wet squelch making your cheeks burn in embarrassment as you whimper at the stretch. "I know honey, I know." Heeseung's voice is almost goading as he rocks into you slowly, biting down on his lip as you clench around him. "You take me so well, baby. Just love this dick, huh?" He holds your hips tight as you nod, your voice lost on you as he brushes that spongy spot inside you. You're pliant in his hands, your eyes rolling back when you feel his hand come down on your ass sharply, a moan falling from your lips into the cushion.

"Filthy little thing." He mutters, running his hand over the reddened skin. "Love being treated like a slut, don't you?" His fingers move to hold onto your waist, hearing you mumble something before leaning down slightly. "Don't you?" "Yours. Your slut." You mumble as you nod shyly, the duality making his chest ache as he coos. "All mine, yeah? Get this wet for me only, right?" The sound of your soft moans is almost drowned out by the smack of his hips against your ass. 

"Always feel so good around me, baby, shit.." His hand tangles in your hair, pulling you up carefully. You whimper as your back hits his chest, your hand holding onto the back of the couch as he bullies his cock into you. He feels you clamp down around him, your skin hot to the touch as he slides his hand down, circling your clit with his fingers.

"Always take such good care of me, my gorgeous girl. My wife, fuck, I love you." He mutters into your neck, his eyes catching your earrings swinging as he nips at your skin. You whine inwardly, looking away from him as you clench around him, your orgasm on the tip of your tongue as he thrusts into you. 

His hand moves from your hair to cradle your face, turning you just slightly to see the fucked out glaze in your eyes, your lips swollen and slick with spit. He smiles softly, brushing his lips over yours, "I love you."

You close your eyes as he kisses you messily, nothing but teeth and tongue as your orgasm washes over you, a whiny moan into your husband's mouth. He carefully tugs off your vest and shirt, "Just a little more baby, almost there. Gonna fill you up, yeah?" "Y-Yeah." You whimper as he lets you fall forward slowly, your trembling thighs only egging him on as he runs his hands over your bare back. "So fucking perfect. S-Such a perfect woman, could never ask for anyone better. M-My angel, my everything." He's rambling, forcing himself to focus as he overstimulates you chasing his orgasm. You mewl into the cushion relentlessly, pushing against him when he notices you holding your hand out behind your back. He interlocks your fingers, before spilling inside you with a whimper. He shudders above you, your hand squeezing his gently before you let go. He digs his fingers into your hips deeply, earning a groan as you shakily try to sit up on your elbows. You only manage to push back on him, a choked moan ringing through the air as he grabs at your hips. He winces as he pulls out carefully, his eyes glued to the way you clench around nothing with soft breaths. His fingers ghost over your hole as you push his release out, not realizing how sensitive you are as he smears it all over your glistening folds. "H-Heeseung!" You reach back to swat at him, making his eyes snap up to look at you. He smiles sheepishly, apologizing under his breath as he wipes his fingers on his shirt. 

"You okay?" He murmurs, his cheeks aflame as he realizes how spent you are, your hips almost giving out as he holds you up. You give him a tired nod, "We cannot fuck on my precious couch again. People sit here." He scoffs, and you feel the soft cotton of his shirt wiping down your legs. You feel him shift behind you, flinching when you feel his shirt wiping between your thighs. "Can't we just shower?" "We can, but I can't lie…I kind of like watching it drip out." He admits quietly, and you roll your eyes. "I feed so many of your guilty pleasures, but this is one I'm going to cut short. I'm all sticky." "I can make you stickier, if you want." He runs his hands up your thighs, and you scoff as you use your remaining strength to flip yourself onto your back. He's red in the face, and not just from your lipstick, his eyes glued to your center. "Hee, stop. You fucking freak." "This fucking freak is your husband, I'd be nicer to me if I were you. I suggest you tell me you love me, that's a pretty good start." He shrugs, acting nonchalant as he leans down. You give him an amused look as you run your fingers through his hair, "And I married you, why?" "Because I'm tall, tan, young, lovely." He shrugs, making you snort. "Girl from Ipanema, is that you?" "I love you." He wrinkles his nose as you press a soft kiss to it, his hands carefully moving your hair out of your eyes. "Thank you. I didn't realize how much I needed this. How much I…need you. I'm sorry it's taken me this long, baby." Your cheeks warm at his confession, your thumbs gently stroking his cheeks. "I love you. I'm always here when you need a little TLC." "And when I don't?" "And when I do, and when I don't. Whenever, you know I'm here." You assure softly, his eyes slightly glazed over as you press a chaste kiss to his lips. "However, I will admit…my TLC of preference right now is a hot shower. Care to join me?" "You and your hot showers. Can you even stand up?"

"If I can't, it just means you can eat me out in the shower." You shrug, seeing the wheels turn in your husband's head as he locks your legs around his waist. A shriek falls from your lips as he picks you up, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as he moves towards the bathroom with a kiss to your lips. "And suddenly, I too, love hot showers. Shall we?"

Tuesday, 12:33pm.

It'd been a few weeks since you and Heeseung reached out to the Cha family, and the case had been officially declared closed by the Seventh Precinct. However, such a reappearance after so many years for such a prolific family meant many, many interviews and involvement with the press. It meant seeing Chaeyoung and her husband, as well as her family over and over again, even when it came to things that weren't about her.

Your relationship was still not perfect – with you and Heeseung slowly working through your issues, things got easier. He managed to submit the paperwork for his vacation to start on Friday, and had some final things to settle at the Seoul Central District Court with a few attorneys involved in a case he and Jay were attempting to break into. He'd called you to meet him and Sunoo for lunch and a meeting to bring you on as an expert witness, as you had a short day in the office.

Short day in the office does not warrant a short day outside of it, though – and you found your husband crowded by reporters and flashing cameras as you tried to quietly make your way into the courthouse. You hoped they wouldn't see you – Heeseung had been pissed enough already when a few reporters dragged your name through the mud when Chaeyoung gave her side of the story, pictures of you that he loved now torn to shreds by internet trolls and what little social media you did have had been flooded with hateful comments. You wound up deleting everything, and staying away from your phone as much as possible. Heeseung arranged private security, and even had Sunghoon assigned to keep an eye out for any suspicious activity around you. 

Nothing had happened, and you were sure nothing would – but you couldn't lie, you felt safer when you and Heeseung were behind the locked doors of your home, hidden away in your bedroom.

You could hear the reporters shouting questions at Heeseung, the tick in his jaw evident as he answered one question at a time. You watch from afar a bit, your facemask protecting you from being discovered as you inch closer. You can see his patience begin to thin and you're about to barrel down the steps to him when you hear a reporter shout over all the others.

"Lieutenant, your wife has been dragged by the media in all forms. What are your thoughts on that, considering that Jeon Chaeyoung was once your life-long friend?" Heeseung's face hardens, and he pinches the bridge of his nose as he speaks.

"I have nothing to say on Mrs. Jeon, I cannot understand why she'd speak about Dr. Lee that way. Please write that down, put that into the world. She's not just my wife, she's her own person and she had a huge role in this case. I would have lost my mind if it weren't for her, and her impact should not be reduced simply because we're married." You feel your chest fill with warmth as you take a few more steps down, a reporter spotting you and you press a finger to your facemask, your wedding ring making her eyes widen. She says nothing as you listen to Heeseung speak.

"Dr. Lee was a pertinent witness to the entire case, and had she not been involved, had she not said something, Mrs. Jeon's case would've remained open and no one would know of her whereabouts. Her family had been in absolute shambles for the last nine years, and frankly, as harsh as it sounds, I'm glad that it's finally over. Dr. Lee is not to blame for whatever upset feelings Mrs. Jeon may have, or whatever resentment she may have towards myself. If she wants to drag anyone through the dirt, she might as well drag me. Dr. Lee is entirely innocent in this, she was a huge stepping stone in bridging crucial pieces of information together and restoring the Cha family. In other words, keep my wife's name out of your mouth unless you're praising her. I'm tired of hearing this, so I have nothing more to say on the matter."

Your eyes are wide as he shrugs, before the reporter who spotted you makes a few moves up the steps, trying not to alert anyone else. You tilt your head at her, and she quietly steps up to you. She holds her recorder up slightly, and you nod, beckoning her closer with your hand.

"Dr. Lee, how do you feel about Lieutenant Lee coming to your defense amongst the influx of hate from netizens?" You lean down to her to speak into the small microphone, clearing your throat. "I think Lieutenant Lee is one of the most kind-hearted, driven, loving people in my life. There's a reason he's my husband, you know. I couldn't ask for a better man." The reporter's eyes soften as Heeseung turns around, bidding the reporters a goodbye as he buttons his coat up, trekking back up the stairs. He looks up, his eyes meeting yours as you give him a little wave. He walks up to you, giving the reporter a curt nod before slipping his fingers in yours. 

The reporter gives you a soft thank you, before walking down the steps. You let Heeseung guide you up the steps, and glance over your shoulder to see reporters taking photos of the two of you from behind. You nudge him with your elbow, and he looks down at you. "Yes?" "Kiss me." You tilt your head towards the reporters, and he snorts as the two of you reach the doors. "You sure?" "Positive." You nod as you pull your mask off, the camera flashes almost blinding as they watch you press your lips to Heeseung's, his arm wrapping around your waist as his hand cradles your cheek. Your lipstick stains his mouth as you pull away, and you give the reporters a cheeky thumbs up as he pulls you into the courthouse.

Sunoo's eyes are wide as you walk into his quarters with Heeseung, your lipstick now also stamped on his cheek from a kiss you gave him in the hallway. He smiles warmly as you offer a hug, embracing you tightly. "God, it's so nice to see you in love." He murmurs into your hair, patting your back before you all take a seat at his desk. The three of you are going over the options for lunch when you hear a knock at the door, your head whipping around to see your mother entering the office. Your eyes widen, and Heeseung is up before you know it. He's greeting her warmly, her face remaining stoic as he takes her coat. She looks tired, and you stand on shaky legs.

"Hello, Mother." You say softly, your eyes flickering to Heeseung and Sunoo as they stand to the side. She steps in front of you, her eyes scanning you carefully. You wince as she steps slightly closer, only for her to breathe out softly.

"I wanted to speak to you earlier this week, amidst everything in the media. However, I'm too prolific and I worried I'd be followed to your home, so I left a few messages on your answering machine. I assume you didn't receive them, so is now a good time?" She's still professional, your mother had no idea how to be comforting or warm. You nod slowly, shoving your trembling hands into your coat. "S-Sure. Yeah, we can talk." Your mother had never cared who was around when she spoke to you about anything. It was one of the more mortifying things about her, but she made up for it by keeping her voice quiet enough that only you could hear her.

"May I touch you?" She asks with a twinge in her voice you'd never heard, and you nod slowly. "Okay." She doesn't wait for another second, throwing her arms around you as she pulls you into a tight embrace. Your eyes are wide as you look at Heeseung and Sunoo, their own the size of saucers as you awkwardly wrap your arms around her. "Are you…alright?" "I'm so sorry, Y/N. I read everything that you said in your interviews, about Chaeyoung and her reasons behind leaving, and how deeply you understood her dilemma. I never realized I was pushing you away, and I'm incredibly sorry if I ever made you feel like I wasn't supportive of your dreams or career choices. I know that this may be a too little, too late sort of situation, but I couldn't let more time go by without letting you know how proud I am of you and everything you've accomplished, not just as a professional but as a woman, as my daughter, as a wife."

Your eyes are stinging with tears as Heeseung's jaw drops, your mother pulling back to cup your face in her hands. "And I'll sue that little bitch for all she has for dragging you through the mud. I'll do it, I'll wring her dry of every asset she's ever acquired."

Her eyes are full of tears as you gape at her, before she presses a kiss to your forehead. "I love you so much, darling. I'm so, so sorry."

"Mom-" "I'm so glad to have you, darling. Please don't disappear on me, I promise you I cannot handle it." You let her pull you back into her embrace, the tears streaming down your cheeks before she pulls away quickly. "Alright, I've got a meeting I'm running late to. I just saw you in the window and I needed to pop in and talk to you. As you were, I'll give you a call later." She gives the three of you a curt nod, before taking her coat and skirting back out of Sunoo's office.

The three of you are silent, your arms wrapped around yourself as you cover your mouth with your hand. You don't wipe your tears as they stream down, and you look up at the men staring at you in shock. "She said she's proud of me." You whine suddenly, and Heeseung lets out a soft laugh as you walk into his embrace, Sunoo smiling to himself as Heeseung strokes your hair, sharing a glance with his long-time friend as you sob into his shirt. "Oh, my baby. You deserve all that and more."

"Should we push the meeting? I think we've got a lot of big feelings to work out, Dr. Lee." Sunoo speaks up gently, and you pout as Heeseung agrees before you can say anything. You mumble out an apology, but Sunoo shakes his head, waving you off. "Let me lead you out the backway, those reporters would have a ball with your crying face."

"Shut up, Sunoo." You scoff, making him snicker as he leads you both out of his office, your head bowed as you let Heeseung hide you from onlookers. You both quietly thanked Sunoo as he opened the door for you and bid you farewell, saying he'd try and get everything done before Heeseung's allotted vacation time. They agreed to meet again on Thursday, with Sunoo giving your shoulder a soft squeeze.

"Give yourself some more credit, Y/N. You deserve it."

Saturday, 4:44pm.

"You found it? You look so beautiful, holy shit." Heeseung was laid on the bed, held up by his elbows as you stood in front of the mirror, a quizzical look on your face as you clipped in your earrings. You purse your lips, turning to face him, the sarong skirt of the dress he'd made you swinging slightly.

"You sure? It's not too…showy?" You pout, running your hands over the soft white fabric. You'd dug this dress back out specifically for this occasion, renewing your vows with your husband on a simple vacation in the middle of nowhere. By middle of nowhere, you mean the same field he proposed to you in, two hours out of Seoul and likely full of flowers this time of year.

"Baby, it's just you and me. You can be as showy as you want in your dress, as bummy as you want in your sweatpants. You're fucking angelic." He pulls you to him by your hips, "I did great on this hem, you can't lie." "Wonderful, yes." You roll your eyes, feeling his hands snake under the skirt. You allow it, feeling your cheeks warm as he snaps the waistband of your underwear against your hip. "Let me go down on you." You sigh, rubbing your temples as your husband presses a kiss to your cleavage. "Heeseung, the sun is going to set and we're going to be doing this in the dark." "Can I go down on you after?" He questions, not really paying attention as he stands, his hands low on your back as he pulls you to him. "Heeseung." "Two orgasms, right after we're done, on the hood of my car." He offers, making you snort. "One orgasm, after we're done, in the backseat." "I'll take it!" He presses a chaste kiss to your lips, making you giggle as he lands a soft smack to your ass. "Stop it!" "You love me! Now get your cute ass in the car, we've got shit to do."

And it feels easy. It feels light, sitting next to Heeseung as he pulls out of the driveway with one hand on the steering wheel and the other holding your fingers tightly. It feels good, listening to your husband sing along softly to soft jazz songs on the radio before you plug in your phone, and then hearing him sing along to your playlists. It feels like getting a breath of fresh air when you see the afternoon sunlight beaming on his skin, his white shirt reflecting the light painfully into your eyes. It feels like the way your heart starts beating a little faster when you catch a whiff of his spicy cologne, your eyes falling on him with a soft smile. It feels like an emotional orgasm when he times playing No Song Without You by HONNE perfectly to when you arrive, your pout being kissed off frantically by your attentive, doting husband. It feels like falling in love when he holds you close, pressing his lips anywhere you'd allow him to as you both reach into your pockets for the thick packets of words you've written. It feels like falling in love when he goes off script, holding the papers in his hand as he looks into your eyes. It feels like falling in love when he kisses your tears off your face as you tell him how much you appreciate his changes, it feels like falling in love when he says you should never thank him for doing what's right. It feels like falling in love, when he pulls a box out of his pocket and presents yet another gold ring to add to your set, with your initials engraved on the outside.

It feels like falling in love with he suggests you both pick flowers from the field to press when you get home. It feels like falling in love when he holds your hand and pulls you close when you've wandered too far, it feels like falling in love when he's kissing you against the hood of his car. It feels like falling in love when he carries you into the backseat and you wind up naked in his lap, a whining and writhing mess as he tells you how pretty you are, how much he loves you, how bad he wants to get you pregnant so everyone knows you're his. It feels like falling in love, when on the ride home, he can't keep his hands off you.

It feels like falling in love, when he wastes no time getting you in the bedroom, your dress on the floor with his shirt and pants. It feels like falling in love when he draws a bath for the two of you, it feels like falling in love when he tells you I love you as he washes your hair, your body, your face.

It feels like falling in love again, but this time? You don't feel like you're falling alone.

BABEYUN © 2024. no translations, reposting or modifications are allowed. do not claim as your own. viewer discretion is advised. your media consumption is your responsibility.

TAGLIST: @thesassy-mia @starfallia @ramenoil @hoonieversies @wintabite @shnnzsworld @eneiyri @jjongsha @ilovejungwonandhaechan @oopshee @capri-cuntz @petalsofink @teddybeartaetae @chocminteu @moon0fthenight @delvziion @heeseungthel0ml @bbyjw @isa942572, @304files, @seungjiseyo @gaytron3000 @melonvrs @yizhoutv @riribelle @swaggieee

[hoshigray]

Pretty Please with a cherry and spinkles ontop😩🙏 I need a Pussymatized Toji. Absolutely infatuated with his FWB. He was the one that said no attachments until he got addicted to her.

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: lmao, "pussymatized" is new, but i see the vision!!

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: fwb! Toji x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - kissing/making out - implied prior sex - backshots + missionary positions mentioned - oral (f! receiving) - feedbag position - multiple orgasms - Daddy kink - overstimulation - pet names (baby, good girl, mama, sweetie) - clitoral play (licking and sucking) - pussy-whipped! Toji - mention of spit and tears.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.1k

Toji knew better. He’s done the whole friends with benefits gig plenty of times, and he knows the big rule that comes with the package:

Absolutely no feelings involved, or else the arrangement is off.

“Hoooh…! Ahhhn, T-Toji, stop…Not too fast!”

That is until he met you.

For about a year, you and Toji have been friends with benefits. It started as something Toji told you about, how he’d sleep around and get in those kinds of relationships. You were the one to ask if he’d be down to do it with you.

The onyx-headed one thought about it for a minute until he gave in and said sure. However, he stressed the “no feelings attached” policy intensely. He considered you a dear friend – a rarity in his life – and he didn’t want what you two were doing to damage this close relationship. It was just casual sex with a friend, nothing more. And you nodded to his regulation with a smile, moving your friendship to the next level.

Off the bat, the sex between you two was great! It had been a while since Toji had done stuff like this, and doing it with someone he could trust like you made the interaction smooth and entertaining. Problems between the two of you were rare, and it’s thanks to you two being mature adults that made handling this non-serious relationship easy!

Nevertheless, one thing made this cooperation difficult — at least on Toji’s part. The older man was becoming more and more infatuated with you.

He doesn’t know when it started getting this bad; Toji was never one to be the one catching feelings during these kinds of kinships. So, this was a bit new for him, and it made the poor man go crazy as the days went on. Him? Catching feelings?? Breaking his own rule??? Get real!

But he couldn’t lie to himself, it was all different since he was doing it with you. You were the closest person he could call a friend outside of Shiu, and that never changed once you two became fuck buddies. If anything, things have gotten a lot closer between you two. You cared for his kids while he was away, cooked meals for him because you feared he didn’t eat enough during the day, or invited him on grocery sprees. 

It wasn’t like you didn’t do stuff like that before. Yet now that you and Toji were doing things beyond a regular friendship, the man was seeing you in a new light that he hadn’t seen before, and God, it was suffocating him. He doesn’t know how many of your gorgeous smiles or sweet strings of laughter he can take before he snaps. 

But it wasn’t just your personality and gracious aura that lured him on. As mentioned before, the sex was amazing — No, scratch that; you were amazing. It had been a very long while since Toji had done sexual shit with someone who could reciprocate pleasure. Fuck, you felt so good, whether it was jerking or sucking him off while massaging his balls in your pretty hands, or bouncing on his cock with that tight cunt of yours that had him on the edge, holding on to your waist as he’d piston his cock deep inside. Merely thinking about churning your walls that snug on his cock had him gulp thickly, thinking a heavy sigh would get these thoughts out of his mind.

But they don’t, of course. Because he’d be damned if he’d try to forget the image of your beautiful body all hot and sweaty with his. Your moans and squeaks were all prompted by his thrusts, and – fucking Jesus – he could never get over the way you said his name, so desperate for him with watery, doe eyes that pull him in. Looking all disheveled and alluring for him and only him, peering over your shoulder when he’d hit it from behind like you wanted to see him feel good. Toji would’ve been a fool if he hadn’t fallen for you!

There was a time when Toji’d slip up and hold your hand as he chased release, noticing you catch the sight of his palm and integers gripping yours. Thinking you were uncomfortable, he removed his hand from yours, only for you to wrap your legs around his waist and bring him to you for a kiss. It was just a kiss, is what he’d say to justify it. But hearing you mewl under his lips and whisper to his ears was the last straw for him, hammering his dick and spilling his load into you as you two made out passionately.

Yeah, there was no doubt about it; the guy was falling for you hard.

So hard that he couldn’t stop thinking about you. It scared him a bit – the thought of you being his made his heart beat at a pace he hadn’t experienced in a long time. You corrupted his senses; he wanted to hear you, kiss you, feel you, smell you, taste you — fuck, did he want to taste you; it was so bad.

But it wasn’t as bad until you hadn’t stopped by for two weeks. You’d text him your apologies, saying that work caught you up and that you couldn’t see him and the kids. And even then, you’d still manage to throw a phone call before sleep, and Toji doesn’t know if that was better or worse. Your voice made his skin crawl, loving how you spoke to him all soft and fatigued yet affectionately. You were too good for him, having him feel guilty for fisting his cock unbeknownst to you.

He couldn’t take it anymore, being away from you. He could barely go through the first week, and the second had him itching to see you. That’s precisely what he did, calling you to let you know he’d come to see you. And once you opened the door to greet him with a warm smile, that last bit of thread in him had finally snapped.

“Nnmmah! Hic…shtooopp licking…! I’ll cum again, I’m gonna—!!”

After pulling you in for a hungry kiss, the man brought himself inside your apartment with you glued to him. Feverish pecks kept your lips on him, squeaking at how smoothly he picked you up and brought you to the living room couch. He’d suck on your neck while removing your bottoms, already stifling him with your fragrance to the point he shudders. 

He’d trail his kisses downwards, nibbling on certain areas that made you gasp for him, sucking on the skin of your inner thigh as his fingers rubbed on your folds covered by damp underwear. You had him on his knees, uncaring about the angle. His thoughts only thinking about the wet chasm he sees after discarding your panties. Nothing holds him back from plunging his face into your wetness and showing no signs of stopping when you’re wailing for him. He’d lick, lap, and suck on you with no remorse, face utterly stuck on your slit until you came for the first time. 

“—Ahhaa, I’m cummin’, Tojiii! OhJesusChrist—Nnnmoo!”

“Mmmph…! Fuck, c’mere, sweetie, lemme take care of you…”

And now, he’s chased you down for another climax, your legs tremble and your figure shakes as Toji’s tongue relentlessly pets around your labia, frantically licking your clit to expel more fluids to seep out your vagina.

And Toji drinks it all, stuffing his face into your inner thighs like breathing is not an issue. You cry and involuntarily try to close your legs as your nerves are at an all-time high, grabbing tuffs of raven hair. But the man doesn’t allow you to shy away, his strong hands keeping you grounded on the couch as he eats you out. They never leave your frame unless it’s to unzip his jeans to let his erection breathe. Your cute howls of pleasure, your delightful fluids painting his tongue and lips, and your intoxicating smell; all have his hard-on twitch painfully, precum staining his boxer briefs. 

He’s so far gone, his scarred lips kissing on your folds to gently juxtapose the tongue he uses to fuck you. You jerk and jolt, sobbing from the fervent mouth making sure every crevice of your cunt goes explored. Your orgasm still isn’t away, everything feels so sensitive that you feel like you could break.

“Tahhh, Toji, nooo,” you wail, trying to push his head from burrowing deeper between your thighs. Yet he shows no cooperation. “I just came, yer doing t’oo muuch…!”

Now, he finally removes his face from you, his chin wet with your essence which he licks from his lips. “Sorry, mama,” his rich emerald eyes lock with yours, they have you freeze under his gaze. “But I’m not done yet.” You shake your head, inching your hips away from his proximity. But he captures your waist and slides you back down. “Don’t,” he pleads, placing your legs on his shoulders. “One more time fr’ me, ‘kay, baby? Let Daddy have ya one more time.”

An excruciatingly slow lick from down your slit to your clitoris has you quiver, sloppy kisses further the mess of saliva and come between your legs, and you can’t control the throbbing sensation that returns to ache your inner walls. He chuckles, “Look at ya winkin’ at me, guess ya want more of me too, huh, sweetie?” He makes your ears ring and hot, throwing your head back when he spits and sucks on your clit harshly.

This time, Toji straightens his back a bit to lift your legs with him, hands securing you close to him on your hips. It was a view you hadn’t mentally prepared for, seeing your weight be supported easily. 

He continues to lap around your labia, taking in all the excess slick to suck on, not leaving any drop go undiscovered. His precision has you roll your eyes to the ceiling, a hand griping on his wrist as he rubs on your clit.

“Ohhhfuuuck,” your words were slurring together, brain too mushy to cooperate and form eligible sentences. The man between your legs makes that hard enough. You don’t even attempt to squirm out because Toji’s lips will latch right back onto you. “Daddyyy, right there…More, pleasee.”

“Good girl,” he praises, rewarding you with swirls circling your clitoris before a suck, and your legs cross around to push him further. “That’s my girl…Mmmm, fuckin’ Christ, taste too good…” His deep voice sends vibrations up your spine, chewing on your lip when his tongue nestles in between your soaked folds again.

He pushes the wet muscle back inside, groaning at the sensation of you clamping onto him and bucking your hips in his direction. Your cries fill the quiet space, his name coming out in rushed prayers was the only thing that occupies his eardrums. Fuck, he missed this so fucking bad, arms wrapping around your waist as he pushes his face deep, his nose bumping to the hoop of your pearl while he ravishes your insides.

The squelches of his tongue and lips are so raunchy and nasty, you feel like filth being used like this. You’ve long given up the control to conceal your moans, and Toji listens to every single one with intent. 

“—Ohhh! Ffsshiiit…!” Oh, no. You can feel it, the next wave climbing up. “Daddy, again! Gonna cum again, I cann’t...!”

“Yes, you can, mama,” he coos, blowing on your slick-covered lips. “Just a lil’ more fr’ me, ‘kay? Just let it out.” His mouth returns to erratically fuck you with his tongue, and his gruff moans are felt on your body. The pressure of your thighs squeezing him makes it better, hitting your delicate clit with gentle jabs that rock you into your third orgasm.

You scream, unleashing yourself as your climax rocks your being. Toji has a good hold on you, softly using the flat of his tongue to lazily lick your cunt, massaging your waist as your hips ride on his face. And it doesn’t help that the older man’s cock is oozing on his briefs, his thighs twitching with his erection wanting to be freed.

With a dangerous last kiss to your sensitive folds, Toji places your legs back onto the couch, wiping your come off his chin to lick his fingers clean before bringing his jeans and briefs.

“Wh..What’s gotten into you,” you ask with furrowed brows and hooded eyes like his, both misty with wanton thirst. “I see you’ve been more pent up than me.” He chortles at your jest, and you happily accept the tip of his cock into your mouth with a blissful hum.

“You have no idea, baby…”

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ✩ dividers by @/benkeibear.

[grugruel]

Can you do that for me?

Pairings: ruined!Jayce x f!reader

NSFW/MDNI

Masterlist

Summary: Formerly partners, you've started a new business in Zaun after Jayce's disappearance. One day, after hearing whispers of Victor's apparent evolution, Jayce shows up unannounced.

Wordcount: 4.2 k

Warnings: Some canon stuff (beware spoilers), pinv sex, angst, fluff, fingering, slight handjob, choking, biting, creampie, doggy, missionary, cowgirl (a lot of positions), sub/dom/switch!Jayce, power struggle, fight for dominance, praise (f and m recieving), spanking, overstimulation, "I love you", difficult feelings, hot depraved Jayce.

AN: Not proofread, I intend to make a few changes to it later but wanted to get it out. Might be spelling mistakes. I tried to fit a bit of everything into this. ENJOY GIRLIES🎀

Having pulled the curtains aside, a vigilant man inspects the dark streets below. "He's almost here, ma'am," the man says, eyes following the subject. There's a slight stiffnes to his stance, as if he's readying himself for a fight. "What do you want us to do?"

"Let him in," she smiles at him faintly, attempting to reassure the large man before returning to her paperwork. "Dont give him trouble, there's nothing to fear."

The guard nods slowly and crosses the room to leave, he knows she's right. Yet, he stays in the doorway, shoulders slumped and arms crossed.

Warm light creeps in through the entryway, contrasting the faint light that Zauns streetlights provide for her otherwise gloomy office.

Noticing how the strong wash of light remains, she looks up at her guard to find another question lingering on his lips. "I've know you long enough to tell when something ails you." She leans back in her chair.

He catches her gaze reluctantly, facing away before he speaks. The man clears his throat, he knows he's crossing a line. "He's trouble, if you ask me. The boys and I-"

The woman pulls her glasses of and sighs, done with her work for the evening. "Im a big girl, I can handle myself."

The guard leans against the doorway and shrugs in reluctant recognition. "We're worried for you, ma'am-" but catching himself on his words, his hands gesture to remedy his meaning. "Respectfully, of course," he ads quickly, aversed to insult his employer.

The woman stands slowly, walking around her crammed desk to casually prop herself next to him. "I know," she reassures, placing a soft hand on his chest. "But I'll be fine, send him in."

The large man huffs. "We'll be outside then," he begins, but as the next words begin to form on his tongue, he decides against it, solely out of trust for his employer. If he could, he would've added 'when you need us'.

She doesnt doubt it, nor does she take offence. They're a tight knit family down here, she cares for them as much as they do her. But this would be an interaction no family member should hear. "That won't be necessary, keep to the foyer . . . Now go," she hurries him, careful to keep an understanding smile on her lips lest he changes his mind.

With a heavy breath and one last glance, the guard reluctantly closes the door and heavy footsteps recede.

She sighs, moving to brace her hands against the desktop and preparing herself for whats to come, for what she suspects.

She lights the lantern on her desk and waits. Only a moment later the same warm light creeps into the room. She twitches, unprepared for his arrival inspite of her efforts as the squeaking door slices through the eerily silent space.

In her peripheral, a fallen man stands. He's tired and dirty. Cut up and run down. There's a moment of contemplation between her and the newcomer, she does not move and neither does he. It's been a long time.

Squeak, thump, click . . . Pause. He's locked the door. A heavy thud between metal and wood sounds next, there's a faint sound of coarse skin sliding along fine metal before the familiar vibrations of hextech dies out.

All that exists between them now is heavy breathing in two parts, laboring against their own minds and bodies.

The floorboards begin to creek, irregularly, as if the weight placed upon them has not yet decided it's course of action. She grips the desktop harder, fingernails burrying into fine wood. She can only guess why he has come. "It's Viktor, isn't it?" She breathes, trying hard to keep her voice steady.

She gets no response, the only answer she recieves is the creeking of floorboards as the uncertain weight shifts back and forth. But that is all the answer she needs.

Having seamingly made up his mind, determined footsteps approach her in a sudden haste. Srong arms wrap around her body, pulling her toward a hard chest in a tight, tight embrace. His head collides with her shoulderblade as he burries his face in her scent. Muffled by her body, strained breaths blow welcome warmth onto her skin.

"What's happened?" She whispers, not entirely sure she wants the answer for she can smell him now. Metal and gunpowder. But it's not the type raw metal used for smithing or creating, it's not the metal she's used to. No, this is pungent, corporeal. It's blood. "Jayce, please . . . " She begins, 'talk to me' her lips shape, but no sound comes out. Unable to muster the strength.

"Cant- I cant . . . talk about it. Not now, not yet," he manages, voice rough as if he has fought and damp breath raising goosebumps on her neck. "I just . . . Needed you. I need you."

A strong hand slides higher, knuckles intently brushing the underside of her breast. "Can't think anymore."

And inspite of her better judgement. "Ok," she agrees, whispering, as if her consience wouldnt be able to hear. She's missed him, worried for him. So, her body betrays her.

Laying her hand on top of his, she guides him over the hill of her breast.

His breath hitches while his other hand move downward, tracing her ribs, down her waist, stopping on her thigh and squeezing tenderly. Soft flesh dimpling beneath the force of strong fingers. "I've been lost, " his voice breaks. "Missed you." His hands slide further down to slither under the slit in her dress.

"No feelings right now, Jayce . . . Please, just-"

Two fingers slip inside of her and she gasps. "No feelings," he assures, placing a gentle kiss on her neck.

"Good, good . . . " she moans.

While massaging her breast his thumb finds her clit and tongue her neck, gently nipping and sucking on the crook of her neck. Her body grows to weak to hold itself upright so she puts her weight on her arms. Noticing, he holds her tighter and pushes her weight against the desk. "Already?" He whispers, dragging his teeth along the shell of her ear as his fingers steadily thrusts in and out of her. "You're making it too easy for me."

A breathless chuckle leaves her, crammed between heavy groans. "You work with your hands . . . Mmmh, unfair advantage."

He bites her earlobe, tugging, teasing. "So do you, if I remember correctly." A grin twists her lips as her hand reaches between them and palms his enlarged bulge. He hisses as she begins to stroke it, heat immedietly surfacing as the friction between fabric and skin grows. "Mhhg, that's what I thought," he groans. "Good girl."

He pushes a third finger inside off her, curling them at just the right angle.

"Fuck!" Her free hand curls into a fist, joints having nothing better to do than occupy themselves in anyway they can. He puts more focus on her clit, rubbing dutyful circles into and and finally pushes her over the edge. "Mhh, shit-"

His fingers slow down as she hits her high, gently leading her through it as he supports her weight. "Just breathe, that's right . . . "

Her breathing has become a mixture of moans and wheezes, the pleasure stimulating every nerve in her body. "Did you . . . ?" She asks, suddenly remember her hand on his clothed member.

"No," he whispers and kisses her temple. "Theres time." He tries to turn her around. But fear grips her. "No-" she stops him, gripping the edge of the desk to keep herself in place. Seeing the changes up close would make them real, would make whatever he has come from, real. "I can't look at you . . . not yet." She reaches over her shoulder to cup his jaw, and just like that, their bubble of reminiscence bursts. They arent colleagues anymore and havent been for a long time. Nor is their third party longer there to rationalise with them. A shrap jab strikes her heart. "Give me time, and just," her other hand reaches behind her, grabbing the fabric on his hip to pull him closer, pressing his erection against the curve of her ass. "Like this for now, Jayce. Please . . ."

His head lulls against her back, pushing his forehead firmly into her spine whilst releasing a big, shaky breath. She can feel him bare his teeth, silently working through the consequences of his actions.

He doesn't answer, he only obeys.

It goes silent for a short moment, until the warmth on her hips disappear and the metal clanging of a belt buckle sounds behind her.

Quickly, one hand returns to her thigh to pull her dress over her ass.

"Dont hold back," she says.

There's a pause in his movements. "Are you certain?"

She nods and he wastes no time. Pushing himself against her, his knees spread her legs efficiently, just liked they've practiced many times before. With no further warning, he sinks into her. One hand crossing over her waist as the other grabs her shoulder, then sets a ruthless pace.

Somehow she knows he needs to get this out of him, the pent of fury and need. But she doesnt complain, he always knew what he was doing.

The sound of slapping fills her office, while the lewd squelching from her previous orgasm further spurs them on. He bends over her, changing his grip. Fingers snaking around her throat as his knee and free hand work together to fish one of her legs onto the desk, hitting her deeper, harder. His thrusts are no longer about speed, but of that one special little spot.

He puts pressure on her throat, almost painstakingly so. But it feels heavenly and she wouldn't have it any other way.

With each rut, his members perfectly fills her. His face is next to hers and he kisses had bites around her neck and ear, making sure she knows how good he makes her fell by grunting and moaning right into her ear. It makes that pulsing in her core worse, and he seems to notice.

"Yeah, you like that?" He groans, kissing her soft skin right behind the ear.

"Mmmhmm," she hums, voice vibrating with the bumping of their bodies. Doing her best to keep silent, afraid that one of her guards suddenly decides to check up on her.

"Let me hear you, use your words," he breathes, flexing the fingers around her throat and biting her shoulder.

"Fuck-" her knuckles and nails take turns in destroying her desk, scratching and denting the expensive wood grain. "I like making you, mmh . . . feel good." She manages, words stuttering between thrusts.

He gently pulls on her ear with his teeth. "Good," he whispers, then releases her throat and places his hand on the back of her neck, pushing her against the desktop.

Slap. His hands comes down on her ass, then gripping the plump flesh hard to lessen some of the stinging. A jolt of electricity shoots through her and her insides clench arouns him.

Jayce whimpers from the sudden, godlike pleasure. "Wanna hear you, honey, don't be shy." His hand comes down again, harder this time.

She squeezes around him, nerves on fire as she feels her second climax building up inside her. She moans as tears run down her face, happy pleasurable tears only Jayce has been able to produce.

"That's it . . ." He slaps her ass a third time, and the wall inside her core crumbles. With a whimper, she comes. "You did so good, lovely, im almost there," he assures her. Tears stream down her face as his thrusts grow irregular, but continues to pleasure her body. "Fuck," she cries, squirming from the drawn out orgasm. One hand holds her steady at the hip while the other slides up her back, rubbing her tender body until he brushes away stray hair from her profile.

"Hold on a little longer, just breathe, baby," he comforts her, such a stark contrast to the rough thrusts he's been dealing her body. Her fingers are jittery from the overstimulation, they ached to touch him, pull his hair, anything. But she can not reach, so she presses her palms against the table to keep them occupied.

As he sees her tear streaked face, one last blow lands on her ass and he too, comes. He collapses on top of her, they attempt to regain their strength as their sweaty bodies lie flush against eachother.

After a few moments of breathing heavily together, Jayce wraps an arm around her torso and splays his hand over her rips, pulling her with him as he straightens out.

Taking a deep breath, she closes her eyes and turns around. Hands finding his face, guiding her lips to his.

"Please look at me, my beautiful girl. Look at me," he pleads, murmuring the words against her lips.

She opens her eyes and his breath hitches. Yellow, brown irises meet her won. They're the exact same ones she knew not too long ago. Except . . . Haunted.

His fingers brush along her cheek, jaw and down her throat. She winces at the soft touch and his brows furrow in confusion.

Capturing her chin, he tilts her head back.

"It's fine, I'm fine," she whispers, assuring him as she sees his expression. Pure shock animates them.

"I don't-" his fingers trace the red marks running around her throat and tears begin to form in the corners of his eyes. "Im so sorry." He falls to his knees, hands resting against her chins as he hides his face between them. "I don't know-" he chokes and kisses her legs with remorse. He pecks her delicately, trailing his lips over her knees and up her thighs, hands following behind, tracing the outside of her legs until they reach her waist and encircle her. He hugs her tightly, knees sore against the hard wood. "Im not right," he breathes, head lulling into her lap. She can feel wetness coating her skin, running between her thighs.

She exhales heavily and slides down the desk until the hard wooden floor welcomes her thighs.

They stay like this for a good long while, she's in no rush and neither is he. Over and over again, her fingers comb through his overgrown and unpreened hair while the sensation of his seed drips out of her. Sharp nails gently scratch at the nape of his neck, they trace his bonestructure and play with its halls and valleys. The back of her fingers caress the length of his nose and sharpness of his cheekbone.

All the while Jayce lays wordless, occasionally squeezing her thighs, her hips. Occasionally trailing featherlight touches along her legs, watching with wonder how goosebumps rise and fall.

She chuckles beneath her breath. It's the same expression he used to get when making progress in the lap, just like when they first cracked the hextech runes. "Jayce," she says, attempting to grab his attention.

Crouching beneath her, he looks up from her lap, chin resting on the softness of her flesh. His face glistens and eyes plead. He looks at her with fatigue, wordlessly asking for her forgiveness.

"What happened?" She asks, her voice soft but words demanding. She's not getting dersuled this time, she needs answers.

He shakes his head, reluctantly drawing his lips into a thin line as he breaks away from her gaze.

Her eyebrows twist together. "What have you done?" She asks, anger laces her tone now. But he closes his eyes, the corners of his eyes gleaming again. The fingers burried in his hair curl into a fist and she pulls his head back, forcing him look at her. "What. Have. You. Done?"

His eyes shift between hers, uncertain, unwilling. "He's gone . . . " He begins. "I had to, I had to–the hexcore, it was poisoning him, spreading like a disease." His voice is coarse. "I had to stop him, there was no other choice."

Her eyes grow. Viktor . . . Gone? She could only assume when Jayce suddenly pays her a visit, but never dared believe.

"I never ment to leave you," he says, hand reaching out to grab her waist. "You have to believe me." He rouches the fabric at the waist, white knuckling it out of desperation for an ounce of u derstanding. "Hextech isnt what we thought it was, not anymore. Viktor couldnt see it, he was infecting the undercity, it would've spread to Piltover, the rest of the world if I didn't stop him."

She shakes her head in disbelief. "But he was saving them, freeing them of shimmer."

"No . . . they weren't themselves anymore. I've been away, lost. I've seen–" She waits for him to continue, but he doesn't. "The hexcore mutates them, changes them. I had to stop him. It, the core."

Her eyes drift the Jayce's hammer posted by the door. "Like your hammer?" She studies the now misshapen weapon, once crafted with obsessive precision. Her eyes drift lower along the neck and over its face, blood splatter.

She looks away, closing her eyes to recollect herself. Remembering to strongly the smell of blood Jayce had arrived with.

"Yes," he says. "Like I did." His hand reaches up to loosely cup her face. She notices how the crystal from his old bracelet has fused with his skin. Her fingers run along his arm and slides along the crystal, feeling it, inspecting it. "I didn't chose this," he murmurs. "I didn't chose to leave you . . . I love you." His hand falls back to his side.

She's taken aback. Its not something they've said before, not while still partners, not before all of, this . . . But despite herself, she believes him. They were colleagues for a long time and affection had always kept them together. He wouldn't hurt Viktor without reason.

With hooded eyes and parted lips, he studies her, waiting for her judgement.

"You had to," she nods, seamingly decided.

Relief and disappointment floods his face all at once. He'd expected an 'I love you' back.

She leans in, kissing him for the first time since he disappeared. Finally reunited. "We'll get through this, ok?" her voice is uncertain, what's happened has not been fully processed.

"Ok," he agrees and straightens his back, carefully placing small kisses along her abdomen as he does so, afraid he'll scare her away. "I've missed you so damn much." He levels his head with hers, meeting her gaze head on.

"I've missed you too," she responds. "But I need you now, Jayce. Can you do that for me?" She places a soft kiss on his lips.

"Certainly," he murmurs against them.

She stands, slinding his hand into hers and leads him to the bed. With his back to the bed, she places her hands on his chest and pushes him into sitting at the edge of the bed.

One leg over the other, she straddles him, standing on her knees so he has to look up at her. His she brushes the hair away from his eyes and lowers her lips to ghost over his. Their scared and quivering, needy to be on hers.

His hands slide up her sides and curves around her back, coming to rest in the arch above her ass. Gently, he massages circles into her skin, tickling her intentionaly.

She squirms beneath his touch, luring a satisfied grin from him. "You look good like this." Her fingers run through his beard, tracing his new scars. "Dangerous." Reaching down between them and into his pants, she pulls Jayce's member free and lowers herself just enough to tease his tip.

With a hiss, he locks his thumb over her hipbones and wanting to guide her onto him.

She shakes her head, a smirk playing in the corner of her lips. "My turn," she whispers and pull the straps of her dress down, letting it gather at her hips. Jayce's eyes immeidetly fall as his hands slide up her ribs with a specific destination in mind. "Dont touch," she warns. "Now look at me, Jayce." Her chest is inches from his face, but unallowed to look and unable to touch, his eyes appear like that of a wounded stag.

Her nimble fingers work on the buttons of his shirt and quickly slides it off of his shoulders. "Ive missed this," she purs, dragging a finger down his torso, her nail leaving a white scratched up mark behind it. "But this is new," she refers to the chest hair she's never seen before. "I like that, too." Her lips meet his jaw as she leaves kisses all the way down to his collarbone and shoulder. Her continues down his abdomen and below his v-line, then there's a sharp intake of breath as she stokes his member, circling the leaking pre-cum around his tip.

"Devil woman," he groans, but there's a twisted smile to his lips.

She returns it and takes a step back, letting the dress fall completely as if wanting to prove his point and oh, how she revels in the desperation on his face.

Her gaze fixes on his hands, clenching and unclencing in his lap, knuckles white from the strain. She bites her lip. "You look good like this," she repeats. "All, fallen apart . . . " She steps closer, placing herself between his legs. "Bloody and broken."

Never has he taken his eyes off of hers, and as she lowers herself onto his lap once more, she finds his member and lines him up. And finally, she sinks onto his thick inches. Still, he does not touch her. There is only a desperate whimper leaving his lips at the much needed pressure. Obedient, or respcetful? Either way, he deserves his praise. "Good boy. Now, touch me," she whispers and topple them over.

He twitches inside her at the words, but before she can react he's upon her. Fitting one breast into his mouth and the other in his hand, he licks and spits and squeezes. Sucking the entierty of her tender, plush flesh into his mouth.

"Ooh," she braces herself, strings of pleasure and heavy breaths return to them. "You liked that didn't you, pretty boy?" All she gets in response is humming between the lewd, obscene slurping.

Alright, then. Putting a hand on his chest for support, she begins to move, rocking back and forth just watching his expression of pleased torture.

Moving his hands to her hips, lips tear free from her breast for some much needed air, only to replace them upon her lips and kiss her with fervour.

She sits up, getting a better vantage and he follows not long thereafter. Unable to sit by and let her do the work. Leaning back on one hand and wrapping the other around her back, he helps her rut against him while he can't softly thrust up to meet her. "Fuck me- Jayce . . . " She gasps, hardly able to get enough air to moan.

He grins against her lips, sharing their breaths. "You liked that didn't you, pretty girl?" He mocks her.

She laughs breathlessly and digs her nails into his biceps. "Naughty," she murmurs and bites his lip, drawing blood. Again, she feels his member twitch amidst all the rocking between them. Their eyes meet and share a knowing glance. She cocks an eyebrow, he blushes. "That's what I thought," she smirks. It's her win, for now.

Unable to let it slide, Jayce takes the reigns. Flipping them over, he pins her beneath him without missing a single thrust. Amidst the confusion, he interlocks their fingers and pulls her arms above her head, stretching her out and limiting her movement.

She squirms against his restrains, testing the limits but he's rock solid. With her legs around his waist, he thrust perfectly into her and she cant help but roll her hips. She can feel the knot tightening in her core and she furrows her brows with displeasure. Missionary always did her in, he'll win. "Unfair," she moans, throwing her head back as waves of pleasure wash over her with every movement of his hips.

He moves one pair of their locked hands down so ha can stroke her throat with his thumb, placing soft kisses on the damage he caused.

His tenderness alone could cause her to crumble. "Put your back into it at least," she whines, realising she only had her pettiness left. Being beneath him, in his control feels way better than any win she could earn.

A breathless chuckle leaves him. "Yes, ma'am," he grunts, releases her and pulls out before he hooks her legs over his shoulders and thrusts back in. Hands finally free, she cups his face and pulls him in for a kiss concealing the cries bubbling up in her throat. For as it stands, he moves expertly and he's deeper–better than any man ever has been. "Fuck me-"

He smirks. "Tell me I'm good, again . . . " Shes uncertain if this is his ego talking or- "Please, please tell me im good," he whimpers, kissing her inbetween every word.

Without warning her third orgasm washes over her, back arching and nails digging into Jayce's cheeks. "You're so good to me," she sobs. "Such a good boy."

His thrusts falter and then he too, comes. Filling her with his seed, once again.

With shaking limbs he falls to her side, one arm draped over her chest. Both breathing heavily as they regain their senses.

"You win," ge admits and kisses her temple.

Yes she does. "I love you, too," she smiles, heart and teeth achingly sweet.

[lovscb97]

— enhypen links [hyung line]

tags: hyung line!enhypen x fem!reader, established relationship, squirting (like . a Lot), daddy kink, oral sex (f. receiving), unprotected sex (plz don't), creampie, rough sex, exhibitionism, bondage, edging, overstimulation, punishments, spanking, nicknames (princess, angel, etc), degradation (slut, whore, etc), reader being a brat, slight dacryphilia, etc

wc: 2.35k

add. notes: reposting bcs blr shadowbanned the last post BOOOOO also plz do not interact if u r a minor!!! look away shoo shoo!!! n also do lmk if some of the links r not working for u guys :] Also. sorry one last thing but u can tell how these answers got progressively longer LMFAOOOOO

. . .

⥽ … LEE HEESEUNG: 

link one.

heeseung loves making you squirt, it's a given knowing his ego and how much pride he takes in the fact that he's the only one who can make you feel so good. some days, he'll fuck up into you until you're shaking and squirming on top of him, crying out wanton moans of his name and incoherent pleas begging him to stop, but he doesn't listen of course. his one and only goal when engaging sexually with you is to make you shoot streams of liquid all over his dick and sheets, and he'll stop at nothing to achieve that. i'd even go so far as to say he can be pretty mean, although i wouldn't put him at the top of that list when comparing with the rest.

"seungie, please!" you sob, fresh tears streaming down your face as your boyfriend milks a third orgasm from you. "just one more, angel. you can do it." heeseung grunts, his cock painfully sensitive after having already cum inside you. but, of course, that won't stop him from giving you the fuck of a lifetime. his current goal right now is to make you cream all over his dick, but what he doesn't expect is clear droplets to be released from your pussy as he overstimulates you. your body slumps on top of his, tired and spent, but it's only a matter of seconds until you're being manhandled onto your back. before you can even ask what he's doing, your boyfriend cuts you off. "i need to see you do that again." he grins wickedly, and you sigh. it's going to be a long night today.

link two.

whenever you act out in front of heeseung, like going so far as to tease him in front of his friends by sending promiscuous photos of yourself or running a hand sensually against his clothed bulge, he never hesistates to put you back in your place. sometimes he'll be so pent up after trying to have enjoyed a boys night out only to have cut it short because of your raunchy actions, he won't even make it past the living room, dragging you towards the couch and yanking your panties down before he's sheathing himself inside you. he'll grip a fistful of your hair whilst drilling himself into your cunt, making sure to remind you who's in charge despite the fact that you both know you'll never learn your lesson.

"you wanna act like a slut, i'll fuck you like one." heeseung growls, his thrusts sharp and precise with the way he's delivering them inside you. by now, you've been reduced to a mess of gasps and moans, too fucked out to speak, which only makes your boyfriend chuckle darkly. "what, now you wanna go all quiet on me? what happened to all that attitude, princess?" he mocks, his palm striking a harsh slap on your ass which makes you yelp. "s-sorry, 'm sorry!" you whine, trying to push back on him with a hand, but heeseung only swats it away, tsk-ing at your behavior. "oh, it's too late for sorry, baby." he mumbles, bending down close to whisper in your ear, his words making you shiver. "i'm gonna fuck you until there's nothing left in that stupid, little whore brain of yours. and you're gonna take it. got that?"

⥽ … PARK JONGSEONG: 

link one.

jay loves giving it to you like he'll never be able to fuck you again. his movements are always precise, hitting that spot hidden deep inside of you with each angled thrust. his favourite way to have you is on your back in missionary too, both your legs hanging off the side of his waist as he pounds himself in you, making sure to coax lots of sweet noises from your mouth that he knows only he can make you let out. it's no secret that you love it too, relishing in the way his muscles flex as he thrusts inside your cunt that he's already cum in, his only current goal to make you cum once more before he'll pull out and wipe you down. or, if he's feeling particularly up for it, he'll continue fucking you even after you've both cum for the second time, making sure you're both overstimulated and tired by the end of things.

the only sounds audible by now are the noises of your loud whimpers and skin slapping as jay brutally bullies his cock in and out of you, your hands shooting out to resist his actions despite the fact that he's so much stronger than you. your attempts to resist him are completely futile, and it only makes him laugh sadistically at you struggling to take him. "aww, 's too much for you, honey?" he coos, and you only cry out with a nod, strings of curses leaving your lips at an expertly placed thrust that slams deep inside you. at this point, you're worried he's going to batter your cervix to a pulp, but that thought is long lost when his thumb comes down to swipe at your clit. "don't worry, sweetheart. daddy's gonna make sure he fucks you until you're crying, yeah?"

link two.

every once in a while, namely when you're both too lazy to indulge in it, your boyfriend will forego the dramatics and fuck you with nothing but love in his eyes. he'll kiss you so sweetly, his actions nothing short of gentle yet firm with the way he'll grip your waist and push himself into you bit by bit until you're clenching down on him in utter pleasure. he'll revel in the way your tits bounce in his face, leaning down to capture one of your nipples in his mouth and sucking on it which only makes the coil in your stomach that much closer to snapping. it won't take long until you're both reaching your highs, you creaming around jay's cock and him shooting ropes of white deep inside you to the point you can feel it gushing out from how much there is.

"fuck, princess. don't squeeze me like that, i'll cum." jay groans, confused when you simply shake your head with a moan. "wan' your cum, jjongie, please." you beg, and his heart positively melts because who is he to deny the request of such a beautiful girl, no less his own beautiful girl? it's only when you clench down on him and grab his hand to bring it up to squeeze your chest when he feels the band in his lower half snap, emptying himself inside of you with a long drawn grunt that only pushes you off the edge. there's so much cum that you can feel it seep out of your hole when he goes to pull his softening cock out, watching him eye it in awe. "you're so perfect f'me." jay praises, kissing you gently on the lips as you muster a tired smile back.

⥽ … SIM JAEYUN:

link one.

firm believer of the munch jake agenda just like anyone else because have you seen the man? his oral fixation goes craaaazy, up until the point he constantly needs to have your clit throbbing against his tongue as he drags the wet muscle through your folds. jake will happily spend hours upon no end between your thighs, his face buried into your cunt as he noisily whines into it. everything about it is intoxicating to him; your scent, the way your arousal leaks onto the sheets, how your tight hole clenches in need, all of it. he'd die a fulfilled man if you smoothered him to death in the midst of his endeavours so as long as it's because of your pussy that he's passing away. of course, you think he's a little insane, but you love him regardless.

"mm, jakey.." you whimper, feeling your boyfriend lick into every crevice of your core with meticulous precision, so focused on the task at hand that he doesn't even bother to pull away and only responds with a hum. before you can even get a word out, he's dragging his plump lips up to wrap around your swollen bundle of nerves, not caring how sensitive you may be because to him, this is the sweetest treat of all. "s-shit, 'm gonna cum." you whine, trying to warn him as the band in your stomach grows closer to snapping, but jake doesn't let up. he continues to eat you out even through your orgasm, his chin getting splattered with your juices in the process as he messily slurps everything up. by the time he finally pulls away, you're panting heavily, but your boyfriend is far from done. "again, please." he bats his puppy dog eyes at you, and who are you to deny him?

link two.

jake is also a certified freak. he's into risky situations where anyone could catch him, which makes sense when you consider how your picnic date with him turned into you getting absolutely wrecked by his dick inside your pussy. it started out so innocent, with you in your little sundress, and him in his favourite hoodie, but all of that was soon discarded and you were on your back against the scratchy grass, gushing around your boyfriend's cock as he pummeled into you with a fervor you'd never seen him have before. something about the prospect of fucking in public turned him on so much, and if you were being very honest, it turned you on too.

"ah, jake. we r-really shouldn't." you stutter, feeling your boyfriend's mushroom tip catch against your clit. you shuffle on the uncomfortable bed of grass underneath just as jake hushes you, slowly pushing himself in with one fluid motion that makes the both of you sigh in relief. "sorry, baby. you just looked so good in your pretty little dress, i had to have you." he groans, hiking said dress up your thighs as you whine, kicking your legs up. jake seems to get your cue because before you can continue pleading him to move at last, he's thrusting into you, thick cock plunging deliciously inside. your noises are loud, and there's no way anyone could mistaken what you two are up to if they were to pass by, so you really are glad for the fact that the entire area is deserted, especially considering that once jake's started, he's going to be insatiable, sure to cum inside you at least twice before he even thinks of taking you home to repeat the process all over again.

⥽ … PARK SUNGHOON:  

link one.

sunghoon's a perv, and like any other perv, he has his secret fantasies; your panties. even before he started dating you, he'd dream about fucking you after having tugged your underwear to the side, pushing his cock in your tiny hole while the flimsy article of clothing you've yanked aside becomes wet from your leaking juices, even better if it's after he's cum on them. sometimes, when he wants to punish you, he'll fuck you through your panties, making sure he indulges himself without directly giving you what you want— his seed. he'll even go so far as to edge you, cockhead bumping against your clit through the messy fabric, just enough stimulation to build up your orgasm, but not enough to have you tipping over the edge. how mean, indeed.

"hoonie," you cry, tears welling up in your eyes out of frustration after your fourth ruined orgasm, especially since this is the second time your boyfriend has cum, much less without you. "what is it now, you ungrateful slut?" he spits out, eyebrows furrowed in a glare as he stares you down, making you gulp. sunghoon got mean a lot, and each time he did, it never failed to have you leaking everywhere. "wan' cum. wan' your cum, too. please. 'm sorry. i'll be good, please." you beg shamelessly, and your boyfriend laughs with a sinister air to his voice. "oh yeah? you're sorry?" he bites his lip, admiring the way his cum has stained the pretty pink laces you've worn today. "too fucking bad." he hisses as he slides his red tip against your clothed clit once more, making you whine. "sluts don't get cum. they get punishments. so, be a good bitch and take what i give you."

link two.

tying you up is one of sunghoon's favourite things to do to you in sex. he loves the way you look, all pliant and moulded into the position he desires to have you in, especially with how the silk of the fabric decorates your skin. of course he'll kiss away the bruises you get after you're done, but that'll only be after he's had his way with you. he also gets off on the power trip it gives him. when you're bound by some material to the headboard, it gives him the liberty to do whatever he wants with you. it's like you're giving your body up as bait, except instead of missing out on it as the predator, he's seizing his opportunity to have his way with you, and boy does he enjoy it far too much.

"oh, my pretty angel. you look so beautiful like this, completely spread out and at my mercy." sunghoon purrs, his cold fingers grazing the skin of your back as you shiver. your face is muffled by the pillows he's buried your head against, the position your boyfriend has tied you up in this time leaving no room for speaking when you're ass up in front of him. you'd be a liar if you said you didn't love relinquishing control and satiating his desires like this, plus sunghoon always fucks you so deep whenever he has you bound for him. "now," sunghoon licks his lips, pumping his free cock in one hand as he brings it up to your opening. "i'm gonna fuck you, and if you stay quiet, maybe i'll think about letting you cum." your eyes widen, a quiet moan escaping you when he suddenly enters. it dies down in your throat when you feel a harsh slap land on your inner thigh. "i said be quiet, slut." sunghoon growls, causing you to swallow. oh, you were royally fucked.

. . .

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! <3

[the-boy-meets-evil]

lost in the west | kmg

(where your best friend pretends to be your boyfriend for the holidays so you can avoid more nagging from your mother. except your whole family thought you were already dating)

pairing: mingyu x f!reader genre: fake dating (kind of), friends to lovers, holiday!au | fluff, smut, romance rating: explicit, minors do not interact word count: 18.1k warnings: eating, drinking, mentions of christmas and holiday celebrations, reference to mingyu being afraid of heights, some minor family dynamic issues, so much kissing, fingering, big dick!mingyu, sex (just plain old missionary), i think that's it

author's note: thank you to the amazing @camandemstudios studios for hosting the winter with you collab! it's been so fun to be part of (even if i forgot for a second that i had to include sunrise sledding, but we're ignoring that). i'm sorry this is a little late as a holiday fic but sometimes life happens and inspiration just doesn't want to strike. i'm not even going to say it's longer than i intended because that's just my brand atp. this is largely unedited.

author's note 2: i think there's going to be an epilogue but idk when that will be possible

tag list: @vitaminkyeom, @tinyelfperson, @dokyeomkyeom, @miriamxsworld, @hongrizon, @klecksstorys, @gyuminusone, @aaniag, @straykidswhoo789, @kimseokgen, @haolistic, @vanishingboots, @babybae-shisui, @harry-the-pottypus, @pyeonghongrie, @nuttywastelandmentality, @writingbarnes, @tomodachiii, @gyuhao365, @jjin-kun, @divinityyy, @dibidibidismynameisleeknow, @tinkerbell460, @aidanjoon, @cookiearmy, @kaepjjangiya (join my taglist here)

“You’re bringing your boyfriend back with you, aren’t you?” your mom asks, which makes you look sharply toward the phone. It’s on speaker because you’re in the middle of folding laundry. Your best friend also looks over towards your phone with a grimace, which makes you wish it wasn’t on speaker.

The thing is…you haven’t told your mom that your ex and you broke up about two months ago. Didn’t want to deal with all the sighing and interrogation while you’re rushing to finish end of the year deadlines at work. Somehow, you know it’ll be your fault. Never mind the fact that he cheated on you in your own apartment. But, that’s another story. Your mother will say something about how you shouldn’t be so picky and everyone makes mistakes. Say that sometimes it’s not your most attractive trait that you’re dedicated to your job. Say that you’re not getting any younger and remind you how many of your friends from school are already married or even having kids of their own. That’s one reminder you don’t really need. You see it every time you aimlessly scroll through your feed. Or when you open the mail and see another wedding invitation. 

You sigh. “Well, actually…” 

“Oh, don’t tell me,” your mother says with her own sigh. “You broke it off with this one, too?” 

“I’m not going to get into it with you,” you say, gentle but firm. 

“I don’t understand what could have made you break it off. You said he was like your best friend,” she reminds you. 

This earns an eye roll from one of your actual best friends, Mingyu. He takes over folding your clothes for you as something to do and as a way to speed up the whole process. 

“Well, he’s not and I don’t see any reality where I will forgive him for what he did to me. So, let’s move on,” you say. 

“Maybe that’s okay. You know, one of my friends has a son who’s single and I could just…” she starts.

“No, absolutely not,” you say. This causes Mingyu to stifle his laughter with a hand.

“I don’t understand what the harm in meeting him is. He seems very nice and you’re not exactly getting any younger,” she says. 

There it is. The conversation always somehow ends up at the same point. You’re not getting any younger. All your parents’ friends have been planning weddings and getting grandchildren. They all seem to understand the importance of building a family. Why do you have to be so focused on what’s wrong with every person you date? Why are you too wrapped up in work? Your parents constantly remind you how you seem too wrapped up in the city life to realize what you’re missing.

“I just don’t think…” you start but then trail off when Mingyu starts waving at you to get your attention. He’s pointing at himself and mouthing something you can’t understand.

“I know you don’t think, but just…” your mom starts and you mute yourself so you can figure out what your best friend wants.

“What, Mingyu?” you ask, sharper than you intend.

“Take me back with you for the holidays,” he says. 

“What?” you ask.

“Take me…” he starts.

“No, I heard you. What are you on about?” you ask. 

“You can just feed your mom some line. Tell her you and I just started dating. It doesn’t matter. Anything to just get her off your case,” he says.

“I’m not…what is wrong with you? I’m not going to just fake date you like some weird holiday movie,” you argue.

“Okay, first of all, rude. Those movies aren’t weird, they’re great. And second of all, what do you have to lose?  Your mom loves me and she’ll be thrilled to see me. I already know everyone that’ll be at the parties and dinners. My parents are out of the country visiting my sister and her new boyfriend for the holidays, so I was only going to my cousin’s as kind of a pity invite. It can’t possibly fail,” he says.

“There are a lot of ways it could fail, actually,” you point out.

“Wow, are you going to leave me stranded for the holidays? I’m already rethinking this relationship,” Mingyu says through a pout. “My own partner doesn’t even want to spend the holidays with me. Are you embarrassed to bring me around your family?”

“So what do you say?” comes your mom’s voice. You had been blocking it out while talking to Mingyu, yet it still catches your attention.

You quickly unmute yourself and look away from Mingyu. “I…actually can’t, Mom. I’m sort of seeing someone different, but it’s new so I wasn’t going to mention…” 

“Oh, you already found someone new, that’s wonderful!” she exclaims. 

You don’t have to look at Mingyu to know that he’s wearing a grin that’s entirely too satisfied. Even if he’s mostly kidding about being abandoned for Christmas, you know that it’s been bugging him that his parents decided to go abroad. You also know that he wouldn’t ever dream of inviting himself to tag long even if that’s what he wanted to do. He actually likes your family, sometimes more than you do. 

“I’ll have to ask him if he’s willing to come with me, but…” you try to say before your mother cuts you off again.

“Tell him it simply wouldn’t be the holidays without him. I can’t wait to meet him. Oh, I’m going to tell your father. We may manage to get you married after all,” she says in seemingly one breath.

“I still haven’t…” you try again without any luck.

“I can’t wait to see you both! Love you!” she says. 

“Love y-...” you say, but she’s already ended the call. 

“I guess I have holiday plans after all,” Mingyu says and you fight the urge to throw a pillow at him.

“This is a terrible idea. I can’t pretend we’re dating,” you say and crinkle your nose.

“Oh, wow, have I offended your high standards?” he asks. “Should I remind you of your last two relationships?”

You do throw the pillow at him this time. 

Despite all the questions from your parents about just who is coming home with you for the holidays, you insist that it needs to be a surprise. You definitely think that your parents will be surprised when they see Mingyu on their doorstep. Even though you only met Mingyu in college, the two of you have been nearly inseparable since then. He’s come with you to countless family events to keep you company, especially between other relationships. Your parents buy him Christmas presents every year and insist on video chatting with both of you on his birthdays. Your younger cousins ask when he’s going to be coming around again because they look up to him, both literally and figuratively. It’s kind of annoying sometimes because you wonder if they like him more than their own family member. But, you reason it away with them liking him for the same reasons that you do. He’s just so easy to be around, though they get more of his polite company attitude than you do. Around you, he’s much more relaxed and somehow more prone to pouting to get his way. 

More unfortunately, the pout always seems to work on you. You pretend to be annoyed with it (well, it’s not always pretending, actually), but you give in every time. Which is fine when it’s just the two of you. It’s less fine when other friends are around because they all have smug looks. Convinced that you and him are end game and neither of you realizes yet. The worst, though, is when he slips into the pout mode around your family and you have to deal with the looks from your family members. It’s all worth it to have someone to act as a buffer, even if you’ll never tell him as much. 

Before you get to that point of seeing your parents, you figure that you should stop by to see your childhood best friend first. Of course, he already knows the whole story with Mingyu and doesn’t seem entirely surprised. After all, he’s also known your mom nearly his whole life. Somehow you went from kids forced together when the parents hung out to adults that actually still genuinely love each other, which means he knows Mingyu well too. In his role as best friend, your current situation will not spare you from his teasing. That’s a role he’s happily embraced all your lives. 

The smirk on his face is present as soon as he sees you and Mingyu walk into the coffee shop. Mingyu hasn’t even spotted him while he unwinds his scarf and heads to the counter to order drinks. You say you’re going over to sit with your friend and only then does Mingyu notice you’re not the first ones here. 

“Hey Kwan, you good on your drink?” he calls.

“Yeah, thanks,” he calls back before his eyes turn on you like he’s got a secret. 

You make your way over to his table and try not to react to the look he’s giving you. Typical Seungkwan looking like he’s about to burst with the latest gossip. Even when he knows exactly why you have Mingyu with you and even said, over text, he gets why you agreed. Ugh. You know better than to think he’ll let you live for even a second. Sometimes you think you need better friends.

“Has he gotten taller?” Seungkwan asks, casting his eyes over at your other friend. 

“No, but for real,” you say with a laugh. “I swear, I see him constantly and I still feel like he’s getting taller.”

“Constantly, huh?” Seungkwan asks, raising an eyebrow.

“We’re best friends,” you say with a sigh.

“And what am I?” he asks. 

“Also my best friend. There’s no rule on having only one,” you repeat for what feels like the hundredth time. 

“Are you nervous to head back to your parents’ house?” he asks, entirely switching approaches. 

It’s not your first rodeo, though. “Why should I be? They like Mingyu, at least, so there won’t be any of the awkwardness beyond explaining that we’re dating now.” 

“Which probably isn’t going to come as a surprise to them,” Seungkwan says. 

“I mean, why wouldn’t it be a surprise?” you ask before you clock the look on his face. “Oh, don’t tell me this is more of that bullshit about how often I bring him around. You know my family is insufferable if I have to deal with them alone.” 

“No, I just know for a fact that they’ve wondered if you were dating him before,” Seungkwan says as Mingyu finally joins you with two coffees in hand.

“That would mean she would need to have good enough taste to date someone as great as me,” he says when he sets your coffee in front of you.

“I’m so torn,” Seungkwan admits. “I could insult her taste in relationships, which, love you babe, but really? Or I could insult you as not really being any better than anyone she’s dated.”

“That one gets us both, though?” you point out, only a little offended.

“Option two it is,” Seungkwan agrees. 

“Okay, enough of that. Fill me in on everything before I have to walk into the lion’s den,” you say. 

It’s always the same when you catch up with Seungkwan. He’s thriving even though he chose not to leave the area where you grew up. It’s not that big of an area, but he’s found opportunities. You just found those opportunities a little further away. Just far enough away that your mother can’t easily pop by unannounced. That lead time before she shows up is usually enough that you can mentally prepare. 

Seungkwan, for his part, really does brighten up the entire space, when he’s not being a demon. He’s got that kind of shine that can’t even be dulled by staying in the same general area as his family. He’s also better at setting boundaries, which he gently reminds you again. He doesn’t need the space and preparation time of his family showing up at his place unannounced because they all know that’s not allowed. It’s not that you’re a pushover, it’s just that it feels different. Even your parents seem to respect Seungkwan more than you at times. You try not to let the cynicism of being a woman seep into those feelings. But, it’s hard. Harder still when Seungkwan gives you the sympathetic look like he wants to agree and knows it won’t really help anything. He’s always been that special brand of ally. The one that actually does want to help and understands the inherent privilege.

Unfortunately, Seungkwan and his family won’t be coming to the events that your parents have planned for the next week, though they’re always invited. They wanted to do something more focused on their family instead. It probably seems like something over the top to anyone on the outside. To you, it just seems normal. This is how your parents always handle the holidays and most events seem to take place at their house. 

All too soon, Seungkwan says that he needs to get back to something and reminds you that you can’t put off going home any longer. You’re already getting dangerously close to what your mother considers late. It’s probably not the best idea to test her patience before the week even starts. 

Mingyu takes care of getting you over to your parents house. Maybe fake dating him for a week won’t be so bad when he takes care of driving without asking and doesn’t even need an address. Since he also already knows your entire family, he doesn’t need help with getting gifts to bring with him. That includes both something to give them when you get there as well as actual Christmas gifts. You remember telling him that wasn’t necessary and remember the look of horror on his face when he asked what kind of fake boyfriend he would be if he forgot. Despite the weirdness of the situation, you also find yourself far more at peace than the last time you brought an actual partner home like this. Mingyu has seen you through a lot of ups and downs. Knows when to be serious and when to crack a little joke to break the tension, even if it’s something only for your ears. 

That all disappears as soon as your mother greets you at the door with a look of genuine surprise on her face. 

“Surprise,” you say. It seems a little redundant because she seems shocked. “You, uh, you remember Mingyu, right?” 

“Of course, of course, come in out of the cold,” she says, recovering quickly as she steps out of the way. “Let me get your coats.”

“I know this is probably a bit of a surprise,” you start.

“It definitely is,” she agrees as she takes Mingyu’s and your coats. “Your father is just in the family room.”

“I figured it would be a good surprise,” you offer as you start to follow her into the house. 

“No, of course it is. We adore Mingyu, you know that,” she says with a soft smile for Mingyu. She’s always loved him. “We just, well, we thought you and him had broken up…”

“Broken…what?” you ask, your own shock now matching your mother’s as you come to a complete halt. 

Mingyu seems to just stay quiet through this entire exchange. You’re wondering why until you look over at him to see that he’s barely containing his laughter. Of course he would find this whole thing funny. Maybe he believes Seungkwan that your parents have wondered if you were dating him. Or maybe he’s just quicker on the uptake. Whatever it, it would be annoying if your brain wasn’t working overtime to try and catch up.

“Yes, you said you’d broken up with a boyfriend. Your father and I realized we hadn’t actually met the last person you dated and we just assumed, since you only mention Mingyu. Well, you said he was like your best friend and we knew it wasn’t Seungkwan. Mingyu only made sense,,” your mother says with a shrug. 

“Mingyu! What are you doing here?” your father asks, rising from his seat to shake your best friend’s hand. 

“Dating our daughter, apparently,” your mother says with a skeptical look. 

“Oh, good! I’m glad you kids worked it out,” he says. 

“Did…everyone just think I was dating…?” you start to ask, looking confusedly between your parents. “Mom, Dad, I was not dating Mingyu. We were only…”

“Friends?” your mother supplies through her heavy tone of disbelief. 

“Yes,” you say, eyes wide and desperate looking to Mingyu for support.

“We really were just friends,” Mingyu says. “I mean, I guess not just friends. But, seeing her go through another heartbreak just made me realize that I didn’t want to see her go through something like that again. I guess it just made me realize how much I do care about her. So, I finally said something.” 

There’s a lot that you can count on Mingyu for. Driving, having an endless supply of oversized hoodies to steal, a stocked kitchen, the best meals of your life, 2 am chats, support through break ups, hating the same people, being scared of his own shadow, a perpetual golden retriever energy, endless loyalty, and the list goes on. Something you never expect to count on Mingyu for, though? The lie that spills so easily from his lips to try and get your parents off your case. Sure, he knows just how much you struggle with your relationship with them. This is different, though. The lie sounds so sincere and his face looks so soft when he glances over at you. 

“You know, it’s okay if you just got back together,” your mother says, looking between the two of you. 

“Oh my god, that’s not what happened!” you say, throwing your hands up. 

“Of course, dear, of course,” your father says. 

“I should go take our suitcases upstairs. Am I just in the normal guest room?” he asks. 

It’s both a deflection from the conversation and a valid question all rolled into one. Whatever the case, it does work for long enough to have your mother refocus her attention on Mingyu to answer. That gives you at least a second to catch your breath. Bringing Mingyu was supposed to give you a break from your parents. And it will, you think, but it’s also bringing up a lot that you hadn’t planned on. You wonder what Seungkwan will say when you tell him about the reception. Probably that he told you so.

“Oh, no dear. We planned to have you stay in our daughter’s old room with her,” your mother says.

Great. Now you’re in an entirely new spiral because, what? She has you and Mingyu staying in the same room where there is only one bed? You can’t remember the last time she was this relaxed with a partner you brought home, which brings up even more questions. Has this really been the plan? Or is only the plan now because of how much they like him? Is this just another way for them to try and nudge you into marriage?

“But, mom…” you start to protest.

“We’ve got a full house with family, dear,” she says as an explanation. 

“I know where it is, I’ll just take the stuff up,” Mingyu offers.

“I can help,” you say as a way to get out of this whole thing and to talk to your friend.

“Pretty sure I’m strong enough to get some luggage upstairs,” he jokes and you roll your eyes.

“Why don’t you go up with him anyway? Then you can freshen up before dinner,” your mother says with a poorly disguised look at your slightly wrinkled clothing. 

Mingyu insists on carrying the bigger suitcases upstairs on his own, but you grab the smaller bags you had in the car with you. Well, except for his backpack that he also stubbornly carries. You don’t need a personal demonstration, you already know that he’s strong. You also don’t need to hear your mother talking about how nice it is to have such a polite young man around like he hasn’t been around a million times before. Once you’re inside the room and behind a closed door, you round on your friend.

“What the hell was that?” you ask.

“Your mom actually letting you and a boyfriend stay in the same room? I don’t know. It’s crazy, right?” he asks.

“Not that, what was with you?” you ask. 

“What do you mean?” he returns, looking up from his suitcase where he had been getting ready to unpack. 

“That whole answer you gave my mom,” you say and he looks almost pitying.

“I have to make it believable, don’t I?” he asks like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “Otherwise, she won’t buy it and she’s going to try to set you up.”

“I guess that makes sense,” you concede. 

“Kind of wild that they thought we’d been dating, though,” he adds on.

“Yeah, what was that?” you ask with more force than you mean. 

He only shrugs. “I don’t know, they’re your parents.” 

“Seungkwan said the same thing,” you remind him. 

“About people thinking we’re dating?” he asks, eyes back on his suitcase.

“Yeah,” you say.

He only chuckles before he looks up. “Come on, that’s not the first time either. How many of our friends have thought the same thing?”

“They’re just fucking with us,” you disagree.

“And my ex?” he asks with a raised eyebrow. 

“Okay, well in my defense, she was insane. The whole idea that people of the opposite sex can’t be friends is an insane take,” you say.

“Yeah, I’m not exactly upset to be rid of her,” he agrees.

“Come on. We better hurry up and get back downstairs,” you say.

The rest of the day is somehow just as weird, but also comforting. As the rest of the family starts arriving, either to stay or just for dinner, you find out that most of your family thinks you’ve been dating Mingyu. Or that it was him that you broke up with and are now back together with. It’s hard to tell if it’s something coming from your parents or just a general vibe that the two of you give off. You can at least acknowledge that you didn’t talk about your last relationship much with your family. Hindsight is always clearer, but you still think you knew something was off in that relationship the whole time. Knew that he wasn’t destined to go the distance. Maybe that’s why the break up didn’t hurt that bad. Honestly, the worst part was thinking of facing your family alone for Christmas.

Mingyu saves you from that as he’s saved you countless times before. 

That brings you to the more comforting part of the evening. You can’t tell if any of your family members actually buy that this is a new relationship. At least, none of them seem to think it’s fake. You can probably put up with it if they just think you’re lying about when you actually got together. That makes it all feel much easier. Then, there’s the fact that your entire family loves Mingyu. It’s the first time you can remember joining the dinner to kick off the family Christmas festivities in years. Your family takes the holidays very seriously and it’s Mingyu’s first time experiencing it like this. Yet, he slots right in with everything. 

It also feels like he’s thought through this whole fake relationship in ways you didn’t. Sure, you talked about some of the ins and outs since this isn’t just a quick overnight trip. But, mostly, you just decide it’s easiest to keep it as close to the truth as possible. The friendship is so deep that there’s genuine love there. You don’t have to fake that. What you did not consider is physical affection. You’re not the kind of person that drapes yourself all over a partner, never have been. There’s a moment where you worry, as you watch your cousin and her fiancé, that you and Mingyu could be found out for not showing enough affection. 

A few minutes later, you’re wishing he would be less affectionate. And you’re not even sure why you worried. The first thing you really learned about Mingyu was that he was incredibly physically affectionate. Tight hugs, random hand holding, an arm around your shoulder, a hand on your arm or leg. It’s all just par for the course with him. It’s gotten even more obvious now that he’s pretending to date you. It seems so innocuous, too. He’s got his hand on your thigh, giving the occasional squeeze, while he’s talking to someone else. He randomly plants a kiss on your temple. He leans over to whisper something to you on the pretense of being close and usually it’s nothing. You don’t even realize that it has most of your family giving each other knowing looks. Like they’re still not convinced you hadn’t been dating before. 

By the time it’s late enough to go upstairs, you’re more than ready to have time away from your family. Every time you think that you’re social, your family is there to humble you. Or maybe it’s just that being around them is too draining. In any case, you and Mingyu head upstairs together. Thankfully, your parents house is big enough that it feels like there’s a little bit of privacy in your old bedroom. 

“So, how’s this going to work?” Mingyu asks, glancing at the bed and then into the attached bathroom. 

Okay, so maybe, even with how big the house is, you haven’t fully considered everything. You’re not really sure what to do. It shouldn’t be weird. You and Mingyu have shared a bed before. This just somehow feels intimate when your entire family thinks you’re sharing because you’re in a relationship and don’t know this is all pretend so you can have a little bit of peace for the holidays. Your gift to yourself. Shaking it all off, you turn to Mingyu.

“I mean, we’ve shared before. It’ll be fine,” you say. 

“So are we not gonna talk about the last time we shared?” he asks with an eyebrow raised.

Racking your brain, you can’t really think of anything that would make him say that. Had something awkward happened? Did one of you do something that you should really remember? Just as you’re about to go into a full blown spiral, you feel Mingyu appear before you. He reaches out to smooth out the line between your eyebrows.

“Don’t hurt yourself there,” he says with a laugh. “You whined about me taking up too much space.” 

“Oh my god,” you say and swat at him. “It was a tiny bed and you took up the entire thing! You can’t do this to me when I’m already wound tight over my family.” 

“Sorry,” he says and throws up his hands. The sparkle in his eyes says that he’s anything but. 

“I’m going to change and then start my skincare routine,” you say as you move to grab something to wear to bed. 

Without even asking if you’re dressed, Mingyu comes into the bathroom to start doing his own skincare routine while you’re in there. He’s already changed into a t-shirt and shorts, which you know is more than he normally wears to bed. It’s somehow peaceful to go through your routines in silence like this. You consider that it might be in part because it forces him to be quiet. Not that you usually mind his chatter, it’s just that your brain is already tired from one night dealing with your family. You can’t imagine how the rest of the days are going to go and are thankful for the downtime when you’ll be able to get out of the house to do things. 

Once you’re back in the bedroom, you both finish off all the little things you need to do. You plug in your phone after checking for any important notifications, grab the TV remote to fling it over to Mingyu, and slide under the covers. Usually you just kind of scroll before going to sleep or sometimes you’ll read. But, you think it might be weird to do those things when you’re sharing a bed with someone else.

“Do I need to make a pillow wall or something?” he asks as he’s flipping through to find something to watch.

Your head whips to the side to look at him. Even though it’s only his profile, you can see that he’s smirking. Purposefully not looking at you because he knows it’ll break the little composure he has. To deal with that, you whack him with a pillow. 

“Just don’t drape your entire body over me,” you say.

“Why?” he asks and does turn to look at you now, wiggling his eyebrows. “Afraid it’ll be too close?”

“No, you fucking goober, you’re just heavy,” you say through a genuine laugh.

“How is this relationship ever going to work if we’re calling each other names?” he says, pretending to be heartbroken. 

“Same way it has for like 8 years,” you joke back with a soft smile. 

“Are you saying you love me?” he asks, hand on his heart. This is one of your favorite things about your friendship with Mingyu because he’s so dramatic that it takes your mind off everything else.

“I don’t know, I’m rethinking it,” you say and turn back to the TV. 

“I love you too, you know,” he says, voice soft enough to make you turn back to him.

“I know, Gyu. I don’t think anyone else would put themselves through this for me, so thank you,” you say honestly. 

He just shrugs and goes back to a lighter place. “Well, I didn’t have good holiday plans and who can say no to this level of entertainment?” 

The next day actually gives you time to catch up with some of your family members more personally instead of everything being such big conversations. That’s especially true for your cousin, Mimi, who’s only two years younger than you and has always been your favorite of your cousins. Even if you go months without seeing each other, it always feels like no time passes. There’s just a level of closeness and understanding between the two of you. You can complain about your mothers since they’re sisters and honestly the same person, just in a different font. It’s easy to be on the same page about things as well. 

You’re actually a little surprised to see that she’s here alone, even though you know she recently got out of a bad relationship. Somehow, it seems her mom is more understanding than your own. She was also much more honest about how the relationship fell apart after 3 years and her mom is sympathetic about it. When she says it like that, you understand. Your last few relationships have all been measured in months rather than years. 

“You’re not, like, actually dating Mingyu though, are you?” she asks quietly when it’s just the two of you.

“Mimi,” you hiss and look around.

“We’re alone,” she assures you with a wave of her hand. “So, spill.”

“No,” you say hesitantly. “Why?”

“I’m just curious,” she says unconvincingly. 

“He was with me when my mom was bugging me about the holidays and bringing someone with me. Then she was going to set me up, so he just offered…” you start.

“He was the one who suggested it?” she asks, far more curious than she should be. 

“Yeah,” you say simply. “Again, why?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know. I’ve just always thought he was cute and I was wondering if he’s actually single.” 

“You cannot hit on Mingyu,” you whisper through gritted teeth. She gives you a look you can’t place before brushing it off.

“Oh, I’m not saying I would. It’s just good to know I could,” she says.

“You can’t,” you remind her. “Everyone thinks we’re dating.” 

“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t do it anywhere anyone else could see,” she teases. 

Of course, another of our cousins picks that moment to join you, so you can’t further chastise Mimi. It irritates you all the same though. How does she think it’s just fine to do something like that when you’re supposed to be in a fake relationship? Could she not just wait to hit on him until the rest of your family wasn’t watching with too much attention? 

Normally, Mimi is a respite from the rest of your family. She’s one of the few people that you’re always completely honest with. Now, she’s taken that away. You try to go about the rest of the day with her knowing that the relationship is fake and she seems like she’s trying her best to get under your skin. Every part of you wants to stop her from chatting so much to Mingyu and you can’t. It would seem weird when everyone knows that you and your cousin are close. Weirder still when she always knows Mingyu relatively well from every other time he’s been to some family event. 

When you excuse yourself up to your bedroom for a second away from your parents and their incessant hint dropping, Mingyu slips into the room just after you. Which is odd, considering you had not even seen him also slip away. The second odd thing comes when you look at his face. He looks more serious than usual, more tired. It doesn’t fully make sense because he’s incredibly social. Loves to be around people in the way all true extroverts do. Something must be wrong.

“Can I talk to you?” he asks after closing the door.

“You don’t ever have to ask,” you say with clear apprehension. 

“Did you tell Mimi we weren’t actually dating?” he asks, still looking at you in a way you can’t place.

You exhale, thinking it’ll be nothing. “Oh, that, yeah. I’m sorry I didn’t mention it to you, I just…”

“Did you also tell her that I’m very single and she should go ahead and shoot her shot?” he asks and you stop short hearing that.

“I - what?” you ask.

“She just kind of cornered me and was laying it on super thick, but she said it was fine because she knows we’re not really dating and that you’d encouraged her to…” he starts and you immediately cut him off.

“What the actual fuck, Mimi?” you say in frustration. 

“I mean, if you want me to…” he tries to start again, looking a little like a lost or kicked puppy. It makes you immediately close the space between you and him. 

“Gyu, no. I did tell her that we weren’t actually dating, but I absolutely did not tell her it was okay to do any of that, let alone encourage it,” you say. 

“So you don’t want me to flirt back?” he asks. He’s still looking Too Serious when he says it and you’re not really sure how to feel.

“Since we’re supposed to be dating, I’d prefer you didn’t. But, if you think she’s pretty it’s not like I can stop you,” you say noncommittally. 

“Of course I think she’s pretty. You and your whole family are pretty. It’s like something in a TV show or some shit,” he says and this is a Mingyu you recognize because he’s rolling his eyes. 

“Oh yeah, says the guy who looks like that,” you say and vaguely gesture at him.

“I…did you just compliment me?” he asks, totally off track from wherever he was going.

“That depends, did you compliment me first?” you deflect. 

“You’re such a shithead,” he grumbles and you tsk at him.

“Now, now sweetheart, should we really be name calling?” you tease.

He fixes you with his attempt at an unimpressed stare, but he’s nowhere near as good at it as you are. Like every other time, he relents first. “I’ve probably told you how beautiful you are hundreds of times in our friendship.” 

“Which I’ve always returned,” you lie.

“Be so for real. I have to pull most compliments out of you,” he says through a snort. When you open your mouth to protest, he cuts you off. “Most compliments that are not about my cooking, I should say.”

“People fall all over you,” you say with a good natured eye roll of your own. “Do you really need to hear me also say you could easily be a model?”

“Doesn’t hurt,” he mumbles through a pout.

“Oh, beautiful Mingyu,” you start, taking on the silliest voice you can muster. “You’re so pretty that I could cry. Your face breaks hearts every day, your smile lights up the room, your hair…”

“Okay, okay, enough,” he says even though he looks pleased.

“I cannot believe Mimi, though,” you say.

“I’m glad you’re not trying to push us together,” he admits.

“Why? Not interested?” you tease.

He answers seriously, though. “No. She’s pretty, sure, but no, I’m definitely not interested, even if I wasn’t pretending to date you.” 

That honest answer strikes something in you. Not that honesty is unusual between the two of you. It just feels like there’s also an element of vulnerability in the response as well. Like he’s saying something that you just can’t quite decipher. You just brush aside for now, though, since there’s nothing else you really can do. 

Mingyu, as it turns out, has one winter time tradition that he’s always wanted to try and never had the chance to do: sledding. He’s never lived in any place where it’s snowy enough or there’s enough free space. But, up here in the relative mountains where your parents live, sledding is a way of life. It’s something you’ve done countless times growing up with friends or family. Part of you is even a little thankful that he wants to do it, too. It’s been years since you’ve gone sledding and getting to see his face when you go for the first time feels special. Feels like something that’s just for you. 

Which is why you’re up before the sun. 

Last night, when you talked about sledding and getting an early start, Mingyu was on board. Now that it’s time to actually get up, you can see it written all over his face that he’s regretting every decision that’s ever led him to this moment. Like the true best friend that he is, though, he’s keeping the actual grumbling to a minimum. You’re not sure why you’re not also grumbling. You’re not a morning person. But, you’ve never gone sledding at sunrise either and something about it just seems like it’ll be magical. Like it really will make it an entirely new experience for you and him to share. 

The house is quiet as you grab the bag of snow pants and winter jackets that you packed the night before from the closet in the entryway. Everything feels so peaceful in the house and just as still when you leave. Like even the soft sound of the door is too much while the whole world sleeps. You can hear the slight crunch under your feet as you trudge over to Mingyu’s car and take care not to be too loud getting in. Thank him again for driving when you know it’s way earlier than he wants to be awake. All he does is smile like there’s nowhere else in the world he would rather be. 

The drive to the hill where you’re going to sled is quick and also tranquil. Even the music is soft like Mingyu is afraid of disrupting the peace. Or maybe you’re both just appreciating something different than the normal bustle of life in a city. It’s never this kind of quiet there and there’s something kind of beautiful about it. Even the parking lot is empty when you get to the small hill that you used to sled down as a kid. You’ve never seen it empty before. Then again, you’ve never been before the sun rose, either. Mingyu takes care to unload the sleds before you both bundle up. It’s not terribly cold, but you make him put on the waterproof gear anyway. 

He stops at the bottom of the hill and looks towards the top. “We’re going all the way up there?” 

You can hear a little bit of nerves in his voice. Mingyu has never been a fan of heights. This isn’t that high, though, and you nudge him playfully. Well, it doesn’t seem high to you. “I think you can manage. Come on.” 

Climbing up to the top is always your least favorite part because it uses the most energy. Not that you mind the activity, it’s just a lot of work for a relatively short ride back down the hill on the sled. At least this hill has stairs built into the slope off to the side to help you. Once you’re at the top, you plop down with Mingyu right beside you. It’s less about catching your breath and more about appreciating the view. It seems like you can see for miles even though you’re not that high up. The sun starts to rise and you know it’s all worth it. All the shades of orange and pink stretch across the horizon as the sun makes its way over the distant mountains. There aren’t any words that come to mind to really capture how beautiful it is. The colors are more vibrant against the white of the snow all around you. Everything feels magnified in the quiet space. All either of you can do is utter out a soft wow to express your awe. 

And then the quiet really is broken.

“Okay you expect me to slide down that on a piece of plastic?” he asks with a hint of panic in his voice. 

You follow his gaze and look down the hill, because it really is only a hill. Not anything crazy. It always looks a little more intimidating from the top, but it isn’t anything all that high. 

“Oh come on you giant baby,” you tease and nudge him. “We got all the way up here, how else are you going to get down?” 

“Walk back down the stairs they so nicely provided?” he offers. 

“That’s crazy,” you say.

“I’m afraid of heights!” he shouts, more panic in his voice. 

“I know, Gyu,” you say, instantly softening as you approach him to put your hand on his arm. 

“I didn’t really think this through,” he admits.

“Why did you agree to sledding down a hill?” you ask, genuinely curious. 

He’s quiet for a moment as he looks out over vista before him. You watch as a calm comes back over him. The kind of calm that can only come from a setting as pretty as this one. Watch him take a couple steadying breaths. Even though you’ve been friends with Mingyu for years, you’ve never really seen his fear of heights firsthand. Couldn’t have imagined it would kick in for something as seemingly innocuous as a small sledding hill. Though, admittedly, it is a pretty decent size. It’s definitely not just the kind of hill people sled down in their backyards or local parks. 

“Because I wanted to try sledding and do something new. And this hill seemed important to you,” he says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I’m not going to say no to something you ask me to do when you get that look in your eyes.”

“What look?” you ask to avoid considering a deeper meaning to his words.

“I don’t know. You get all starry eyed,” he says with a shrug. 

“How about this? We can go down together and check it off the list. You don’t have to sled again,” you offer. 

“We came all the way out here,” he says, unsure.

“And I got to see the prettiest sunrise of my life with my best friend beside me,” you say easily.

“Okay, okay. I can at least try,” he says.

You get up and send the smaller of the sleds down the hill without anyone on it in case you really only take the one ride. It would be a hassle to have to come back up and get it. Then, you position yourself on the bigger sled that’s meant for two people (or three kids sometimes when you were younger). Once you’re in place, you motion for Mingyu to settle in behind you. Point out where he can put his legs on either side of you, which already feels closer than normal even with how affectionate Mingyu can be. You adjust so that your back is pressed against his chest. It’s about the right balance to the sled so that you’re less likely to topple over on the way down. Mingyu has to crowd into your space to wrap his arms around your middle because he’s bigger than you are, something you hadn’t considered when suggesting this. You can almost tell that he’s considering burying his face in your hair, but stops short.

At least, until you push over the edge with a combination of wiggling and using your hands to push your forward. That’s when he buries his face. Then, you’re slowly picking up speed as you slide down the completely untouched snow. It’s always best like this, in your opinion. Before there are lanes carved into the snow. Yes, those lanes pack the snow down and can make you go faster, but you can also catch an edge and topple over more easily. 

None of that is really on your mind once you start descending though. All you can think of is the way Mingyu’s body feels pressed against yours. How it’s very foreign but also very comforting. How you can understand why your whole family so easily believes that you’re together. The comfort is effortless, something you don’t ever think about. It just exists. You focus on how funny it is to have this giant of a man wrapped around you like a koala with his head buried in your hair now because he’s nervous. You don’t even consider any other way that it might make you feel. When you let out a squeal of delight as the sled picks up more speed, you feel, rather than hear, him grumble by the tickle of his breath in your hair. It only makes him cling more tightly to you. 

It’s almost disappointing when you feel the sled level out at the bottom of the hill and slow down. It’s been the perfect way to relive one of the parts of your childhood that you loved the most. Getting to do silly little things like this really was one of the best parts of winter. You’re fully stopped before you realize that Mingyu is still clinging to you with everything he has. So, you carefully place a hand over his and feel him untense the tiniest bit.

“It’s okay, we made it to the bottom in one piece.” 

Slowly, he loosens his grip on you and actually looks up. Again, you feel this rather than seeing it. You feel the absence of his body heat and only then realize just how tightly he was clinging to you. Mingyu pulls his face out of your hair and seems to look around, as if testing that you’re really at the bottom of the hill. Like he’s not sure it’s over that quickly. 

“That wasn’t so bad.”

“No, it was a lot of fun.” 

“Do you think…could we maybe go again?” 

Both of you are standing up again now and it makes you whip your head around to look at him because you can’t believe this scaredy cat actually wants to go down again after how much it took to get him down the first time. His face is hopeful, though, and you’re not about to start saying no to that face now. Not when you never have before. So you match his smile. 

“On one condition,” you finally say. Mingyu only looks at you like he’s waiting for you to continue. “You have to actually keep your eyes open this time.” 

“You don’t know I had my eyes closed,” he insists with a pout.

“Gyu, your face was in my hair,” you say through a laugh.

“Okay, fine. Eyes open. But, I have my own condition, too,” he fires back, still kind of pouting. 

“Yes?”

“I want to ride together again.” 

It’s easy to agree to that. Even though you don’t say it out loud, it’s kind of fun riding with him, especially when the hill is so untouched. He’s tall and muscular, very helpful when it comes to carving a path and also picking up speed. He adds to the momentum and you like going faster. You don’t consider telling him that he wouldn’t go quite as fast without you because you would be losing on as well. It’s not a bad deal for either of you, really. Mingyu gets to work a little on a fear of heights on something much more manageable and you get to live out your best sled dreams. 

Each run gets a little bit easier. Mingyu holds up his end of the bargain and actually opens his eyes, which is more entertaining to you than it probably should be as he curses all the way down that first run. But, he keeps wanting to go and you’re not going to stop him. Don’t realize that maybe he also keeps going because he loves to see the way your face lights up each run. Neither of you makes an effort to get the other sled again either. 

By the time the sun is fully risen, yours and Mingyu’s cheeks are rosy from the cold. And also from the way you’ve taken to running back up the steps to the top like kids. You have to admit, even if it means he’ll get a big head, this is the most fun you’ve had in your hometown during the holidays in a long time. Honestly, it might actually be the most fun you’ve had anywhere in a while. It’s nice to get back to something simpler without worrying about anything else. Life can get busy back in the city between work and chores and endless responsibility. Sometimes it’s nice to just take a break from it all. Remember that there are more important things than just working all the time or being stressed about things you can’t really control. Maybe there’s something to simplifying life a bit. 

Now that the sun is rising, it’s a more acceptable time for people to be out and about themselves. Kids can convince their parents to take them sledding as well. At the first sign of people approaching, you and Mingyu agree that it should be your last run. You’re starting to get a little tired and you know it’ll get loud. You don’t mind having the kids around, you just know it gets harder to avoid everyone and you have to wait longer between each run. Besides, you planned something post sledding as well. It catches you off guard that he actually seems a little sad to be leaving. 

That is, until you take him to this little hole in the wall of a breakfast place. It’s something new because you’re not usually in this area when he comes with you to family events. Not that it’s far, it’s just a few towns over and there are closer places. Until winter comes around again and the elderly couple that runs the place roll out their secret recipe for hot cocoa. Honestly, you could probably just drink that without even ordering anything to eat and be the happiest person in the world. The food is amazing too, though, and you didn’t eat before leaving to go sledding. You and Mingyu order a few things to share and laugh all the way through it, talking about sledding and the trip so far.

“Thanks for this,” he says as breakfast is winding up.

You’re a little surprised at both his words and the gentleness of his tone. “For what?”

“Taking me sledding like this. That sunrise was amazing and I, well, I guess I didn’t think I’d have as much fun as I did,” he admits, a little more shy than you’re used to.

“I’m glad you trusted me,” you say and can’t quite place the look he gives you.

“I think I’d trust you with just about anything.” 

The day before Christmas is always the same. By then, you’re in desperate need of a break from your family and you think they may be in need of a break from you as well. So, each year you get together with Seungkwan and some of your other friends that still live in the area. Anyone with a partner brings them along and you have a nice, boozy brunch. This year, Seungkwan is hosting because his place is spacious and the group seems a little bigger. It’s also nice to get to really spend some time at his place since he’s only been there a few months. 

Typically, a few people in the friend group will bring over some pre-made things to warm up the next day as well as everyone bringing whatever they want to drink and share. That’s the same for this year with a slight change. Mingyu, once he sees the kitchen, says that he just has to make some food as well. After taking an inventory, he heads back out to buy more things that he needs, ignoring any of your protests and only agreeing to take your card so you can sort out the cost with your friends. (You’re not going to do that because you don’t mind just covering it, but you don’t want him to cover it either.)

When he gets back, he immediately goes into the kitchen and your friend Vernon’s girlfriend offers to help. She drags Seungkwan’s sister, who doesn’t usually come around, with her as well. Mingyu only leaves the kitchen long enough to bring you one of the mimosas that he made, insisting there’s a special ingredient. Then, it’s back to fully focusing on the food. Not that you really mind. It’s nice to just be in a low stress environment with your friends to catch up, have some drinks, and laugh a lot. 

Vernon, after looking around to make sure nobody else is listening, shows you and Seungkwan the ring he’s been walking around with for the past few weeks. Apparently, he’s finally settled that he’s going to propose to his girlfriend tomorrow on Christmas Day. You’re thrilled because they’ve been together forever and she already feels like family. Seungkwan nearly bursts into tears, which you have to quickly cover so nobody realizes what’s happening. You love that your best friend is like that. It’s just not the time if you want to keep it a secret that Vernon wants to propose. 

It also feels nice to be in a group where you don’t have to pretend. Nothing changes all that much for how you and Mingyu are together because he’s always affectionate with you. But, you get to trade any of the not-so-subtle comments about when you’re going to get married to the relentless teasing about how he passes as your boyfriend so easily. It’s nice to have someone joking about it and you find you don’t even mind. Especially when Mingyu chimes in with his own little comments from the kitchen. There seems like there’s a lot of laughter in there as well. 

“You’re going to have to dress him better if he’s going to keep posing as your boyfriend,” Seungkwan jokes and you look over at the kitchen. 

Mingyu is wearing this kind of awful green zip up sweater. It’s not even that nice, soft material. But, he insisted on wearing it because he wanted to wear something with Christmas colors and it was the only thing he had apart from his outfit for tomorrow. It makes you roll your eyes again remembering it.

“I know,” you sigh. “Usually he dresses so well and then there’s that.” 

Your eyes drift back over to him in the kitchen again and you kind of wish you hadn’t looked back. You catch him as something falls off a spoon he’s using to taste test and onto his skin. And, without seeming to think about it, he sucks it off his hand. Then, licks along his finger for good measure. It makes your heart stutter a little in a way that’s completely foreign to you. Why are you so entirely transfixed by someone who’s supposed to be your best friend and fake boyfriend doing that?

“Hey, you good?” Seungkwan asks, snapping in front of your eyes.

You shake your head to clear it before turning back to him. “Yeah, sorry, zoned out for a second.”

“Uh huh,” he says skeptically, but you catch his eyes darting over to Mingyu. 

“Don’t,” you warn him, causing him to throw his hands up in defense. 

“I won’t,” he says. “But, if you decide you want to talk about it…”

“Talk about what?” Mingyu asks. You hadn’t even seen him leave the kitchen. 

“The issue she’s having with Mimi,” Seungkwan lies quickly. 

Mingyu rolls his eyes. “She won’t leave me alone.” 

“And that seems to be driving both of you crazy,” Seungkwan observes. 

“Well, yeah, our bestie is just being a good friend and she knows I’m uncomfortable,” Mingyu says before you can answer. Is that all it is? For the first time, you’re not sure.

“I’m not sure how I feel about sharing a best friend,” Seungkwan says with feigned distaste.

Mingyu tries to give The Look again, but fails even worse than with you. Nobody can outdo Seungkwan and so he gives up. “Food is ready.” 

“Oh good, I’m starving,” Vernon interrupts. 

The rest of brunch goes by without Seungkwan making any other comments. To you, at least. You don’t see him sit down next to Mingyu after the food is done like it’s casual and unplanned. Nothing that man ever does is either of those things, though. What you do notice is how easily he fits into this group of friends. Sure, he knows Seungkwan pretty well and he’s met nearly everyone there. But, he doesn’t get to spend much time around them. Not really, in the grand scheme of things. It isn’t really surprising, if you think about it, because they’re all close friends of yours and he tends to think you have good taste where friends are concerned.

It is a little weird, you think as Mingyu sits on the other side of the room, that he seems to be a little glued to his phone now that things are getting closer to wrapping up. He checks it mid conversation and furrows his brow at whatever he sees. Both seem unusual. Mingyu is always one of those people that gives his full attention to a conversation. Unless it’s an emergency, he likes to be present in a moment. It’s one of your favorite things about him. It’s also unlike him to be so upset by something on his phone. You can’t think of any person that would be creating that reaction from him. Or anyone that he wouldn’t just ignore until later. You try to put it out of your mind as best you can. If it’s something serious, he’ll talk to you about it. At least, you hope. 

Any other time, you would be thrilled to have your favorite cousin staying at your parents’ house for the holidays. She’s always been your confidant and one of your safe spaces. Now? You can’t stand it. You really wish she would be literally anywhere else. Just the sight of her is getting to be enough to set you off. It seems like she’s really taking it to heart that Mingyu is single. You’re not sure what her game is and you hate it. 

Of course, she manages to corner you the second you’re back to your parents’ house. You’re not exactly paying all that much attention, though. The end of brunch with your friends had been a little weird, even if nobody else noticed it. Mingyu accepted all the praise for the things he made, but was distracted by his phone. Someone, you’re not really sure who, kept sending him messages. Whatever it was didn’t seem to be making him happy. Not that you really have any right to ask him who’s blowing up his phone. It’s just a little weird. Usually he’s so present in events like brunch. It’s odd to see him constantly checking his phone. Odder still that he had headed off to the bedroom as soon as you got back. You’re a little buzzed from the mimosas. Mingyu, on the other hand, is very sober.

“There you are,” Mimi says, appearing as if out of thin air. It makes you jump back, hand on your heart.

“Jesus,” you gasp out.

“No, Mimi,” she jokes. Any other time, it would make you laugh. You’re not so entertained with her now. 

“What are you sneaking up on me for?” you ask instead. 

She rolls her eyes and looks around. “I’m not sneaking up on you. I was just trying to catch you away from the others.”

“Why?”

“Why do you have that fake boyfriend of yours on such a tight leash?”

Out of habit, you look around to make sure nobody is listening. Everyone seems too busy, though. “I don’t have Mingyu on a leash.”

“Then explain why he’s basically refusing to answer any of my texts,” she says, arms crossed.

“I don’t know why…wait a minute. Was it you texting him while we were at brunch?” you ask.

This, somehow, seems to satisfy her. “Oh, so he’s not telling you who’s texting him.” 

“I didn’t ask, honestly.”

“Well, I don’t see why he’d be ignoring - “

Your brain catches up then. “Hang on. How the fuck did you get his number?” 

Mimi rolls her eyes again with a huff. “Please. You’ve had the same passcode on your phone for ages. I just grabbed it when you left your phone out.” 

“That’s so fucked, Mimi. You can’t just go through my phone or take his number,” you say. 

“You’re no fun anymore,” she says with a whine.

You’re not interested in hearing anything else she has to say because you just want to talk to Mingyu. This is getting insane that she’s going to this amount of trouble just to try to get to him. Yet, it’s also weird he kept it to himself that she was texting him. The two of you have talked a lot about the shit Mimi pulls in order to get close to him. Why is it different now that she’s texting him while he’s out with your friends? Is he starting to get worn out from dealing with the insanity of your family? Every other time he’s been around, it’s been really chill. This time, not so much. 

Up in your room, you don’t initially see Mingyu. You’re not sure what you’re expecting. Maybe him on his phone texting or else complaining to another friend about how this whole trip is going. Or even talking to his sister about getting out to see her instead of staying here. None of that happens, though. Instead, you find him in the bathroom applying a face mask. It’s a little ridiculous and definitely the last thing you expect. But, you also know that it’s a sign he’s carrying some amount of stress. 

That’s the thing about being as close to someone as you are to Mingyu. To most people, he’s got this unfailing streak of energy and kindness. He’s the kind of person that lets himself be bullied by all his friends even though he could definitely take them. It’s all part of making sure everyone is enjoying themselves and most things just roll off his broad shoulders. There are hidden depths to him, too. Sometimes he gets a little worn out because he’ll keep things to himself instead of burdening someone else. He takes so much onto his own plate and you wish he wouldn’t. At least, not always. He’ll go until it feels a little unbearable and then finally speak up. He’ll force a smile even when he doesn’t feel like it just to make sure nobody else realizes anything is wrong. In a way, he folds in on himself a little. But, you’ve been friends for years so you know his tells. Know how to spot the signs. It takes you a little longer this time surrounded by family and some friends. This is one of those signs, though. Taking the time to do a face mask, even if it’s in the middle of the day, to just give him an excuse to be quiet. 

You’re not usually the one to initiate physical contact with him. Not because you don’t want to, he just never really gives you the chance. He’s like a human koala most of the time. With his back to the door and his eyes closed to enjoy the feeling of the mask, he doesn’t even hear you approach. Your hands wind around his waist, hugging him tightly from the back and your head rests between his shoulder blades. For the briefest moment, he tenses and you worry that he’s using this as a break from you. Then, he realizes it’s just you and his entire body relaxes. He puts his hands over yours and sighs softly. After a moment, it doesn’t seem like it’s enough because he turns in your arms and pulls you tight against his chest, wrapping you so tightly in his own arms that you would complain in any other situation. Not now, though. Not when he’s putting himself through all of this just so you don’t have to have a stressful holiday experience. 

When it’s like this, you don’t dream of pulling away from Mingyu. There’s so much that he does for you and it’s so rare that you can do anything for him in return. So, you’ll stay tightly pressed against him as long as he wants. You won’t be the one to break the hug first. If you can take even a little bit of whatever he’s feeling onto your own shoulders, you will. This trip has been so much better than you could have expected in most ways and you’re determined to be more conscious of his needs. Eventually, he does pull away and let you look up into his face. He looks much more at peace than you expect. Maybe your hugs do have healing powers like he always says. Mingyu turns to remove the face mask and wipe his face before turning back to you.

“I’m sorry,” you say softly into the space between you. 

“For what?” he asks. 

“For the whole drama that is my family,” you start. “Mostly, for Mimi, though.” 

“Ah,” he says and his face falls a little.

“Gyu, I would never have put you in this position if I had known she would be like this,” you say earnestly. 

“I don’t think anyone could have guessed she’d pull all this,” he says with a humorless laugh.

“You should’ve told me that she was texting you and bugging you like that,” you say without any accusation. You just want to be able to share in his burden.

He only shrugs. “We were with your friends and you looked so happy. I didn’t want to bring it down. How did you even find out she was texting me?” 

“She told me,” you say with an eye roll. 

“Really?”

“Well, she cornered me and asked why I had you on such a tight leash…”

“Kinky,” he interrupts and it nearly makes you choke. 

“And then, when I asked how she even got your number, she told me she’d gone into my phone and taken it,” you say to avoid thinking too deeply about Mingyu and any kinks he might have. 

“Bold,” he observes. 

“Do you like that?” you ask before you can stop yourself.

The second the question comes out of your mouth, you wish you could take it back. What is going on with your brain today? First you’re losing your train of thought watching Mingyu lick something off his finger. Then, you’re wondering about his kinks. Now, you’re wondering if he likes someone that’s a little bit bold. It’s got to just be the atmosphere that you’re in. Or that you’re pretending to date him. It’s messing with your mind and you’re not responsible for the way you act. 

The worst part is that Mingyu’s entire face changes. He gets that knowing look on his face when he meets your eyes. A little cocky. The look that says he knows just how attractive he can be. It’s not usually directed at you and you’re not really sure what to do now that it is. 

“Sometimes,” he says. “Not necessarily from someone I’m not actually interested in, though.” 

“Good to know.” 

Mingyu arches an eyebrow and okay, that’s devastating. Maybe you’re still a little under the influence of the mimosas. There’s no other explanation for the way your knees go a little weak at such a simple movement. “Is it?”

“Huh?” you ask, shaking your head to clear it.

“You said it was good to know and I asked if it was,” he repeats, smirk only deepening.

“Oh, sure,” you say and he seems momentarily surprised. “You know, so I can tell Mimi.”

You’re actually not entirely sure what makes you say it. It’s not like you would ever want him to consider Mimi. It might actually drive you crazy if he went for her. He gets that look on his face that you’re all too familiar with. Affection mixed with exasperation. Nobody seems to get it more than you.

“Too bad for her that I’m very much not interested,” he says. 

“Shame. I don’t know how I would get over the loss.”

“Luckily you don’t have to because you’re stuck with me.”

“Until you actually have a crush on someone again.” 

Even though you say it, you want to take it back as soon as it comes out of your mouth. Images come rushing into your mind of Mingyu falling in love with someone that actually lasts. Someone that could take your best friend away from you. Which should be what you want, right? You should want him to be happy. And you do.  You just can’t really stand the thought of a life where he’s happy without you being right there by his side. This trip makes you think about a lot more than you bargained for. 

“I do have a crush,” he says softly.

“Oh, of course,” you say and look away from him. That’s fine. This is all fine.

His finger is under your chin the next second to pull your face back around to his. It’s the look of patience that you also see a lot. Especially when he’s trying to teach you something in the kitchen. Or explain something from work. Or really just talk about anything he’s passionate about. 

“The crush is on you, dummy,” he says softly. 

“What?” you ask, not sure you heard him correctly. 

With a shake of his head, he steps back to lean against the bathroom. “Of all the times I pictured telling you this, I never considered telling you in the bathroom attached to your old bedroom at your parents’ house.” 

“We don’t…” you start and he shakes his head again.

“No, this probably fits,” he says with a light laugh. The kind when he’s just a little caught off guard himself. “I thought I wanted to tell you after brunch with your friends and, I don’t know, I could be misreading the whole thing, but I think you’re ready to hear it now too. I like you. I’ve been more than happy just to be your friend because I didn’t want to say something before we were both ready. I’m happy to be here as your friend that’s only pretending to date you because I’d do anything to make life easier for you.”

“Mingyu,” you say, so low it’s barely above a whisper. Like you’re afraid to break the quiet in the limited space between you. 

“You don’t have to say…” he starts, only to be interrupted by a loud knock at your bedroom door. 

Your senses are entirely overwhelmed and you wonder what he sees as you look up at him, eyes wide in wonder. Before this, you would say that your brain could process too many things all at the same time. That it always had a million things going on. Now, you can’t seem to do any of that. Can’t focus on anything other than your beautiful best friend before you and the fact that apparently he has feelings for you. You see his mouth move, assume it’s to answer the knock, and have to shake yourself back to reality. Need to come out of this day dream so that you can react to whoever is at the door. 

“Too bad, lovebirds, you have to come downstairs. Attendance for games and cookie decorating is mandatory on Christmas Eve,” your cousin calls back. 

“Mimi, just…” you start to call out to her and Mingyu shakes his head.

“We’ll be right down!” he cuts across you. He waits, seeming like he’s listening for the sound of Mimi walking away from the door. How he can hear anything over the pounding of your heart seems unthinkable. Somehow, he must hear something because he turns back to you with soft eyes and speaks in an even softer voice. “It’s okay, we can talk tonight after dinner or when we come to bed. There’s no pressure for you to even say anything. Our friendship is the most important thing in the world to me.” 

With that, he gives you a quick peck on the top of the head. Something that’s immediately gentler than anything you’ve experienced with him during the entire course of your friendship. The smile he gives you as he steps around you to lead the way down to interact with your family has you go weak in the knees. Has he ever smiled at you like that before? Or is it a new smile? Once upon a time, you would have said that you had every facial expression of his memorized from years spent in each other’s company. Years spent sharing private jokes, going on adventures, complaining about work and family and everything in between. But maybe, you think, there are still things that you can learn about Mingyu. Maybe there are still things that you can learn from him as well. 

When you don’t immediately follow after him, Mingyu turns around to grab your hand and pull you along with him. There’s something about the way he threads his fingers through yours and squeezes that makes your heart pound again before settling down. His touch is gentle, like it always is, and filled with complete care. You don’t notice the way he glances back at you every few steps. Not with concern, but with curiosity. He would have bet he knew your every facial expression and can’t fully place the way you look now. Somehow, even though he can’t completely tell what you’re thinking, he knows that he made the right decision. Knows it was time to tell you what’s been on his mind. Knows that, no matter what, he’s still going to have his best friend on the other side of this trip.

It’s chaos once you and Mingyu get downstairs, like it always is at your parents’ house on Christmas Eve. Though, this definitely seems a little busier than years past. You’re not sure why that is either, but everyone seems to want to join in on the traditions that your parents cling to. In any case, it’s a good thing for you because it lets you just blend into the group of people without your parents paying entirely too much attention to you. Mingyu uses your hand intertwined with his to pull you into him, the way he has countless other times on this trip, and presses a kiss to your temple. Then, he’s off into the kitchen, throwing a joke at your mom about how he’s here now and she doesn’t need to worry. He looks over his shoulder and winks at you as your mother puts him to work mixing ingredients. You honestly don’t even know how you react in response. It must be okay, though, because he smiles back at you.

You love to decorate the cookies and will happily help make them in other situations, but there are already too many cooks in the kitchen. Instead, you help to set up some of the card tables that your parents keep for times like these. It gives people the chance to figure out what they might want to play and who they want to join them. It really is a nice tradition, no matter how you feel about your parents. And since your mother usually spends more time on baking and decorating the cookies, she doesn’t notice if things get a little too competitive between you and the cousins. Or if your father eggs the rest of you on while he watches. She has her favorite parts and lets everyone else do whatever it is they want to do. As long as everyone takes a break to help with decorating the cookies. Not that it’s ever a concern, that’s most people’s favorite part. 

Once the tables are all set up, you settle into a board game with some of your cousins. Usually, you’re one of the more competitive ones. Board games come pretty easily to you and you pick up on the strategy quickly. If your cousins notice that you’re not nearly as invested this time, they let you have it. And they do notice it, pretty quickly, but let you have it. It’s easy to see you’re distracted and to see that you keep glancing into the kitchen at Mingyu. They just let you have it. It’s in their best interest, anyway. It’s nice to get the chance to win without you being fully committed to beating everyone around you. 

This kind of setting really gives you a chance to think without shutting yourself away in your bedroom. That’s too obvious. You can’t just say that your best friend confessed feelings for you and now you need to figure out what your own feelings are. Not when he’s pretending to be your boyfriend already. Not when your whole family already thinks you’re lying about having just gotten together with him. And not when your mother would probably kill you if you missed out on traditions that may be older than you are. 

All the spiralling in your brain is just cover, you realize, for the bigger picture. Mingyu likes you and he thinks this is the right time to have a conversation about it. He also knows that your friendship is the most important. You agree. He’s one of the most important people in your life, but is he more than that to you too? Is it possible that it’s more than friendship? That’s not something you ever considered. When you and Mingyu met in university it was through someone you were dating at the time. The relationship was, fortunately, very short lived. But the friendship with Mingyu, that was the stuff of stories. That instant connection that survived the breakup. The two of you always joke that your friendship was meant to be and that’s why it lasted when the relationship didn’t. Why others could come and go from your lives but you two are forever. Especially when either of you has dated someone that had an issue with the friendship. It’s insane to think that men and women can’t be friends. A completely archaic way of thinking. 

That makes you think about your friendship with Seungkwan, though. Someone in your life who has also always been a constant. Someone who supports all your rights and your wrongs, even if he gives you a hard time too. And that’s when something else clicks. Your past partners haven’t objected to your friendship with Seungkwan nearly as often as your friendship with Mingyu. It’s not that he’s not attractive, because he definitely is. It can’t be that you’re not as close. Seungkwan has been with you through a lot. It could be that there's been more distance between you and him since you moved away, but you’re not sure that’s it either. He’s a constant in your life even from a distance. When you can’t see him, you regularly FaceTime him. So, no, he’s still present even if he’s not in the same city. 

And then it hits you. You don’t watch Seungkwan lick something off his finger while he’s cooking.  You don’t get jealous of your cousin hitting on him, regardless of what else is going on. You don’t seek out physical affection in the same way. Don’t find yourself looking over at Seungkwan for his reaction to everything going on around you. Don’t want to know his thoughts on something before you make each big decision. Seungkwan is your best friend and he means the world to you, but the thought of him constantly kissing you on the cheek or the temple or forehead or even the back of your hand doesn’t unleash butterflies in your stomach. 

Holy shit. You’re in love with Mingyu. Definitely in way over your head with feelings that should have been obvious to you. It’s impossible to pinpoint when it might have happened or how. Maybe there isn’t a specific time. Maybe it’s something that happens slowly over time. You know that when you first became friends it was only that, a friendship. Someone that you could be yourself around and feel at home with in a very foreign environment. Somewhere along the way, it’s morphed into more. He really is the person you want to share all your news with, the person that you look to for support first. It’s so clear to you that your feelings are there now that he’s confessed and gotten you thinking about it. When you meet his eyes across the room, you wonder if he can see the realization on your face. 

Now that you realize that you also have feelings for Mingyu, you’re not sure how you missed it before. If you consider the traits you’re looking for in a partner, he ticks off every box. And if you’re being completely honest, he’s been the reason for adding some traits to your list. So, not that you’ll admit this to any of your most recent exes, but maybe they had a point when they questioned your relationship with Mingyu. Not a big point. They still had shitty reasons for disliking Mingyu, but a small point nonetheless. 

The rest of the evening seems to go by entirely too slowly, even if you do enjoy yourself. Much to the dismay of your cousins, you’re no longer distracted and you proceed to kick their asses at any game they suggest. You do go a little easier on them than normal, though, and avoid any of the trash talk. Thankfully Seungkwan isn’t there to point out that being in a good mood makes you soft. Even decorating the cookies is more fun than you can remember. You try not to think about whether that’s because Mingyu sits right next to you the whole time, trying to sabotage your cookie designs or make you laugh with his own. Spoiler alert: it absolutely is and you’re already down horrendous. It’s even easier to act like a cute couple in love now than it was before. And you also ignore the realization that it being so easy to pretend to be in a relationship with your best friend should have also been an indicator. Nobody ever said you were the most observant when it came to your own feelings. 

Finally, you get a free moment to go upstairs. It’s time to get changed for Christmas Eve dinner and that gives you both the chance to excuse yourselves. The only person who seems to be tracking the movement with some amount of interest is Mimi. You’re too caught up in reaching out for Mingyu’s hand to notice, though. His smile at the action is immediately familiar and new. Familiar because you know his face better than your own and new because you didn’t expect to see him looking at you like that.

“I didn’t expect your mom to have me working so hard in the kitchen helping with the cookie dough,” he says once you close the door. 

“Oh, I did,” you say through a snort. 

“How was the - “ 

“You were right.” 

You both go to speak at the same time and Mingyu’s mouth closes the second he realizes what you said. Whatever he wants to ask dies on his tongue over three words from your mouth. They might just be the second best three words you could say to him right then. 

“About?” he prompts. 

“It was the right time to tell me,” you confirm for him. It’s clear that he’s biting his tongue to let you say whatever you need to. Even if he knows by the look on your face. “I like you too.” 

“Thank fucking god,” he says with an exhale. “When Seungkwan told me that I should tell you because he caught you watching me, I thought he was being a shit and…”

“Wait, what?” you ask. Fucking Seungkwan. Of course.

“Oh, yeah, at brunch earlier he said that he noticed you watching me while I was cooking and that if I liked you like he thought I did, that I should probably tell you,” he says a little sheepishly. 

“You know what? Forget Seungkwan. I need to see something,” you say and close the space between you. 

Before Mingyu can ask anything, you’re on your tiptoes, hands cupping his face and lips pressed to his. He wraps his arms around your lower back to pull you tighter against his body without missing a beat. And that really is all you need to know. Everything is in that first real kiss. Any lingering hesitations slip away. You can feel his promises and the answers to the questions you know you’ll have to actually ask in that kiss. For now, it just feels like coming home. Like you found the person that can get through all the bullshit and remind you about what’s actually important in life. 

“Wow,” you say when you pull away.

“Yeah,” he agrees. 

“Is that what I’ve been missing out on?” you wonder.

“Just how long have you liked me?” he says with an all too knowing smirk. 

“I only realized today so I’ve got some catch up to do,” you joke. 

“We both do, I think,” he says. 

Without having to say a word, both of you get ready for Christmas dinner since your mother insists that you get dressed up. Every few seconds one of you seems to catch the other looking. It feels exciting, but you’re also a little shy. There’s a lot to talk about and a lot to navigate. You know you can’t put it aside. It just doesn’t feel as time sensitive now. This is one of the most important people in your life and it’s going to work out. At least, if you can get through the whole drawn out affair that is dinner first. 

Which you do. Through all your mother’s courses and all the formality that she insists on following, you have Mingyu by your side. You’re not even distracted by Mimi on the other side of the table. She can’t seem to take her eyes off you while you and Mingyu can’t take your eyes off each other. More than once, you entirely miss a question and Mingyu has to nudge you to prompt you. It’s not your fault, you reason. He’s just so insanely attractive and made all the more so because you know that he’s a genuinely wonderful person. 

Every part of you wants to skip the after dinner drinks and go back upstairs with Mingyu, but he quietly insists that you should stay. Even laughs when you turn his signature pout back around on him. If he makes a good point that you have nothing but time, you still want to take advantage of some of that time right now. Instead, you sip on your rumchata and curl into Mingyu on the oversized armchair by the fire. Despite trying to leave a little bit of space, you’re basically sitting on his lap at his own insistence. 

Once the first people start to call it a night, you look at Mingyu with nearly pleading eyes. That gets a light laugh out of him as he nods to agree that you can go upstairs to your bedroom. You say your goodnights to everyone in the room, wish people a Happy Christmas Eve, and lead the way back up to your room even though he doesn’t need the directions 

It’s nice to have uninterrupted time to figure everything out with Mingyu now that your feelings are out in the open. And once you’re both changed and through your skincare routines, you get into bed just to talk. It’s remarkable how much can fall into place so easily. It’s obvious that he figured out his feelings first. You insist that yours are already just as strong. The two of you depend on each other in everything without realizing it. Turn to each other for support. Share in all the best news. Suffer through any heartbreak together. In the years of friendship, there’s something deeper than either of you ever expected.

Honestly, it’s not even something either of you just held onto or harbored for years. The feelings really came suddenly. Mingyu shares that he wasn’t just waiting around to tell you that he had feelings for you. He also shares, though you already know, that no part of him felt entitled to your returned feelings. Had Seungkwan not said something, he’s not even sure if or when he would have said something. The last thing he would ever want was to make you uncomfortable. As much as he cares about you and wants to explore the relationship, you’re also the best friend he’s ever had. You feel the same. It’s a little scary and exciting at the same time. You trust Mingyu with your heart in a way that you’ve never trusted anyone else.

It’s entirely too late into the night by the time you and Mingyu fall asleep. How the two of you have so much to say at this point in the friendship is something to be studied. But, eventually you drift off, completely intertwined with Mingyu. He’s been a cuddler this whole trip and you’re not sure how he’s gotten himself even more attached to you. Yet, he does. It’s like any space between you would be too much. It’s too much satisfaction to give him that he’s right. He can tell anyway. 

When you wake up, it feels too early. A fact only confirmed when you check your phone. None of the little cousins or your cousins with kids are staying at your parents’ house. So, you know that it doesn’t have to be an early start to the morning. You consider if you can drift off back to sleep. In the night, you ended up with Mingyu spooning you. His arm is loosely draped over you and your back is pressed somewhat lightly into his chest. When you go to adjust to think about drifting back off, your ass brushes against his hips, you feel something press into you. That stops you for a moment. Obviously, you and Mingyu talked about sex the night before. About how you wanted to try to take it a little slower since this means so much to both of you. And obviously you know that it’s relatively common for a guy to wake up a little hard. Your brain knows all those things. Knows what you should do. You should just reposition and go back to sleep. 

That’s not what you actually do though. 

So carefully that it could be an accident, you wiggle against him, a little harder this time. You yawn like you’re actually just adjusting to get comfortable and fall back asleep. He might let you get away with it, too, if you didn’t do it more than once, pressing further back into him each time. You know he’s awake by the sharp intake of breath and then the way he moves his hand to grip your thigh. The way his fingertips dig into your skin there makes you grind back harder without pretending it’s anything else. 

Mingyu puts his lips to your ear. “Are you trying to drive me crazy?” 

“No,” you whisper. 

“I thought we said we were going to take it slow,” he says with incredible difficulty.

“I can move slower,” you answer immediately. It feels gratifying when he snaps his hips into your ass. 

“You’re teasing me,” he whines.

“Not if I follow through,” you say. “I want you, Mingyu. I don’t want to wait.” 

“Fuck,” he hisses as you continue to grind into him. “I want you to.” 

“Then…” you start and immediately cut off as his hand winds back around to your front. He grabs your pussy through your shorts that suddenly feel too flimsy. Runs his long middle finger up your core and you immediately know you started something that he’s going to finish. 

But his hand is gone entirely too quickly. Worse still, he pulls back. It’s only long enough for him to turn you towards him and then pull you on top of him. Your brain catches back up once you’re straddle over him and he pulls your face towards him. You kiss him like you haven’t yet. Full of desire and desperation. Nothing like the first few kisses you share. Those kisses were to make sure this was right. This kiss is to ruin him. Maybe to ruin yourself as well. His hands are on your hips, anchoring you to him, not that there’s anywhere else you could possibly be. 

It’s never been like this with anyone. Just some heavy kissing and you’re already getting turned on. Already wondering what’s next. What it’s going to feel like. If Mingyu is the type of person that will take his time with you. It’s hard to imagine when he seems just as desperate as you are. At least, he tries to anchor you in a certain position so that you can’t grind too much. Maybe he does want to savor it. You really are down horrendous for this man because you think you could just kiss him like this forever and never quite get enough. 

All too soon, Mingyu rolls the pair of you over again. Now he’s hovering over you and nobody has any business being that hot. And then he pulls back, somewhat straddling your legs without putting too much weight on you. In one movement, he pulls his shirt over his head and casts it aside. Okay, now you really think that nobody has any business being that hot. And sure, you’ve seen him shirtless before. This is just different. You don’t even realize as he’s reaching for your shirt until you feel his fingers brush the skin of your stomach. He’s looking for permission, but you’re a little impatient and pull the shirt off yourself. You’re not sure that anyone has ever looked at your body with so much love. Like he’s just as amazed as you are. He peppers your chest and your chest and your stomach with kisses. Showing you just how much he loves every bit of you. It’s the safest feeling in the world and you’re not really sure how you got this lucky. 

Mingyu is so gentle when he pulls your shorts off. Trails kisses along your thighs as well and makes you shiver. Chuckles when he pulls his own off and you swallow at the sight of him. He’s a big guy and somehow you’re still not expecting his dick to be big like it is. Haven’t ever really thought about it in all the time you’ve been friends. You expect him to be all confident seeing your reaction. There’s something else there too, though. Like he’s a little nervous about this. You’re not really sure what to say to reassure him, so you just pull him back to you to kiss him again. He adjusts into you almost immediately, half laying on top of you while still making sure that he’s not crushing you.

This time kissing him is very different, though. He moves one hand between your legs. It’s gentle at first. He only runs his finger up your center a few times. Catches each moan with his kisses. Slowly works a finger inside you and pumps at a languid pace. It turns you into a whiny, squirming mess entirely too quickly. Empties any thoughts or worries out of your head. You know you can’t be too loud and you hate it. Nobody should be able to kiss this well while also hitting the perfect spot with each pass of his fingers. He adds a second finger and you’re sure that you’re done for. Sure that nothing else will ever feel as perfect as him again. You reach to stroke him and he pulls back. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask, unable to hide the concern in your voice.

“No, nothing,” he assures you quickly. “I just, um, well I really want to fuck you and I’m not sure I could handle it if…”

“Do you have a condom?” you ask, already ready to say it doesn’t matter if you have to.

“I might?” he says more like a question and gets off the bed to cross to his bag with too much speed. In any other situation you might laugh. Now, you just want to feel him. A moment later, after rifling through his bag, he comes back up with one. 

He’s moving back to you, unwrapping the condom, and then he looks up at you. There’s a question in his eyes.

“Yes, Mingyu, I want this. And yes, I want it here,” you assure him. 

Thankfully, that’s the only confirmation he needs. In the next second, he’s pumping himself a few times and rolling the rubber onto himself. You move to reposition, but he doesn’t let you. He gently presses you back and gets between your legs. Carefully, he lines himself up and presses in. 

“Oh fuck,” you hiss out, trying to stay quiet. 

“Too much?” he asks and stills.

“No, Gyu, just move, please,” you whine out, pulling him into you. 

He does exactly what you ask and snaps his hips so he’s fully buried inside you. It’s a stretch in the best way. Like this is exactly how it’s supposed to be. You can’t help it, you moan out the first time he thrusts and he catches the second moan with another bruising kiss. Probably better to have bruised lips than to have your family hear the screams you let out as he fucks you. Probably better than having them hear his moans as well. They vibrate through his chest and it gives you a sense of pride. Mingyu is a taker in every sense of his life. You know that it must be killing him to keep quiet now. 

The two of you fall into a perfect rhythm without even trying. There’s nothing awkward about it being your first time. Knowing each other as well as you do as friends seems to translate here. Or maybe Mingyu just pays much closer attention to you than you realize. You run your nails down his back and his thrusts stutter so you do it again. That seems to get to him. He picks up the paces of his thrusts. Pulls his dick almost all the way out of you before quickly snapping his hips to bury himself in your pussy again. Never in your life has sex as simple as this position felt so good. Never has anyone you’ve dated felt this perfect. 

When Mingyu’s thrusts start to stutter, you reach down between your bodies to rub your clit. Seconds later, your pussy clenches around Mingyu and your vision whites out. You can feel Mingyu release and try to pick up the pace to work him through his own orgasm. He half collapses on you, breathing heavy. Both of you have to catch your breath from all the kisses to muffle the noises as well. He tries to roll over so that he’s not on top of you and you cling to him, not ready to lose contact just yet.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he assures you.

“I know.” 

“That was…” 

“Better than I was expecting.” 

You can feel his eyes on you even without looking and it makes you smile. Can imagine what he’s about to say before he even opens his mouth.

“Oh, you didn’t think I’d be any good?” 

You laugh at that as you turn to face him. “No, I thought you’d be good. I just didn’t expect our first time where we had to be quiet because we’re in my parents house to be that good.” 

He considers your words for a second.

“I guess I can take that,” he concedes. 

“Come on. We have to clean up and get downstairs,” you say and he sighs dramatically. But, then he gets up and helps you up with him. 

Half an hour later, you’re downstairs at the kitchen table sipping on a peppermint mocha latte and picking out your favorite pastries from the spread your mother has out. Mingyu has his chair pulled close to you and his arm along the back of your chair. Your cousin is sitting on your other side, cheerily humming under her breath. In a strange move, she isn’t even trying to speak to Mingyu. Just as you’re trying to figure out what’s going on with her, she turns to you.

“Have a good morning?” she asks knowingly.

“We’ll talk about it later,” you hiss back, casting your eyes around. 

“No need,” she waves off and shoots a smirk at you. “I got exactly what I wanted.” 

“I don’t…” 

“Seungkwan and I have been talking a lot. Plotting, I guess you could say. Seems like it finally paid off,” she says and your jaw hangs open. 

“Are you…did you just…” you stutter out. 

“As long as it’s real now,” she says and doesn’t wait for confirmation. Doesn’t need it, when it’s written all over your face. “We can talk about it later but I am sorry.” 

“You and fucking Seungkwan,” you grumble. 

It is a weight off your chest, though. Mimi has always been your favorite. A safe space in all the insanity of your family. It’s good to know that she’s still that for you. The two of you can argue about her methods, or her alliance with Seungkwan, later. It’s hard to ignore that it did actually help. You’re in this place because some of your favorite people meddled to help you and Mingyu see sense. Maybe you can say all is well that ends well. 

In between all the chaos of breakfast and making sure the presents are under the tree, you manage to tell Mingyu about what Mimi had really been up to. He seems relieved. Not even annoyed, just happy that things can settle into whatever the new normal looks like for you and him. You also find time to whisper all the things you want to do to him when there aren’t prying eyes around. It may be cruel, but you delight in the way the blush rises up his cheeks and the way he shifts in his seat. You’re going to have a lot of fun playing with him, you already know. He’s so easy to rile up. Now you have brand new material to use on him. 

Your mother works to corral everyone into the living room where the Christmas tree is so that people can start opening presents. You always hold back and watch at first. Don’t even make an effort to find anything that might be for you. It’s more fun to see people’s reactions. Does your mother like what your father picked out? Are your cousins humoring their parents? Did someone manage to get something that’s genuinely a surprise? There’s never a dull moment. In fact, you’re so lost in thought watching that you don't notice wasn’t beside you until he plops back down and nudges you. Hands a small, beautifully wrapped box over to you. 

“Go on, open it,” he urges you softly. It’s clear he’s trying not to draw too much attention. 

Exchanging gifts with Mingyu isn’t new. It’s something you do every year. This is unexpected though. Usually you exchange gifts away from other people because they can be a little silly. Nothing about this feels silly, though. With a final questioning glance at him, you pull the ribbon off and carefully ripping the paper. It’s immediately clear that it’s a jewelry box. That makes your heart hammer. You can’t even look over at him. Surely this is something he had already. It’s not like there’s been any time to go out and get something in the midst of all your confessions. 

There’s a necklace inside the box. Something that looks old, important. The kind of thing you can tell has been well worn and loved without looking cheap. There’s a pendant hanging from the chain with your favorite stone in a setting that you instantly love. It’s the most perfect gift that anyone has ever given you and it makes you a little emotional. You turn to Mingyu, tears welling in your eyes, and want to have the moment just for the two of you. Unfortunately, your mother and several other family members watch your reaction.

“It’s beautiful,” you say softly.

“Do you like it?” he asks, still unsure.

“I love it,” you say earnestly.

“It was my grandmother’s that she got from her grandmother before her. She told me to hold onto it and that I would just know when I should give it to someone,” he says and that does you in. Any last resolve disappears. 

The only response you can think of is to just kiss him. A real kiss pressed to his lips full of all the words you can’t say about how much a present like this means to you. How sure you are that you two are making the right decision. It’s so meaningful. 

“I love you,” he says quietly, trying to keep it just for the two of you. Which doesn’t happen. Not that it matters. Your parents have heard you saying you loved each other this whole trip. It means something different now, though.

“I love you, too,” you say back. “So much.” 

“It’s a beautiful necklace,” your mother offers as Mingyu helps you to put it on. 

“I thought it would look good on her,” he adds to your mother. 

“Almost as good as a ring,” your mother says. It’s the least subtle comment in the entire world.

Mingyu doesn’t miss a beat. Just smiles and nods a little. “Well, maybe you’ll have to invite me back next year and see what the gift is.” 

“You have a deal.” 

For the first time, you’re not upset with your mother for bringing up marriage and the idea of settling down. You’re just basking in the affection coming from Mingyu and appreciating your new necklace. Soon, you’ll have to leave this little bubble. Trade the idyllic snow covered scenery where everything moves a little slower for your life back in the city. But, you’ll be taking a different relationship with Mingyu back. You think that maybe he’ll be the key to you finally figuring out how to balance it all. Maybe he’s been the answer all along. 

[persicipen]

𑑛 “PROMISE TO TAKE IT” ﾉ BLADE, DAN HENG, JING YUAN, LUOCHA. HONKAI STAR RAIL

fem reader ﾉ words 2.1k ᯽ rough scenarios, separately. blade — prone bone. doing it raw. creampie ﾉ dan heng is in his dragon form, but not entirely. missionary. implied mating season lol ﾉ jing yuan — size kink. riding him but he’s still in control and a menace ﾉ luocha — “little thing” petname, oddly comforting situationship or one night stand ﾉ rewritten ᯽ ADULT CONTENT ﾉ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ᯽

BLADE ﾉ

While the bedroom itself remains an oasis of solace and a delicate space where you can be yourself, never judged by his ruby eyes despite his low huffs and puffs at any of your antics, it is now also a jail for your sobs. Cries disappearing in the supple cotton of the pillow as Blade pounds into you, rough hands gripping your wrists like a rope. Oh no, he will not allow you to push his hips away.

Not after you begged for this just moments ago with that adorable whine of yours.

The dripping slickness saving you from the punishment that is him rutting into you with abandon. His cock stretches your pussy wide, filling you to the brim with every thrust, and you arch your back against him, letting him impale you over and over again on his heavy girth.

He growls, his fingers digging into your soft sides, leaving reddened imprints, as he pulls you towards him. He slams into you roughly, his balls slapping against your overly sensitive clit as he fucks you without mercy.

You squirm in his grasp, trying to break free, but no, his grip on you is firm. He doesn’t want you to move. You’re here just to take care of his needs.

The man above you breathes out, his long black hair falling over his arms and tickling your shoulders. Using your body as he pleases, relentlessly pushing until only his base can’t settle into your cunt. You whimper, your legs shaking as you feel his tip brush against your deepest spot, and he chuckles. He likes how you clench around him, unsure if you want him to leave you or to welcome him deeper — this is how he knows you’re getting close.

And so, Blade leans forward, his breath burning your neck, and bites on your irritated skin. You cry out, your soppy walls throbbing to lure him into your heat, and he grunts as he hears your juices plapping down his thighs. The way you cream all over his cock — awfully erotic — your wetness coating his length, and he picks up his pace, pounding into you with renewed vigour. He wants to cum inside you. To fill you up.

A high-pitched squeal escapes your lips, your silhouette shivering with uncontrollable intensity. The overwhelming sensation becomes too much to bear, and you find yourself unable to endure it any longer; still played with like a pretty doll, pressed to the mattress with all of his weight. Blade groans, his girth pulsing, and he snugs himself deep into you, cumming in thick, hot spurts, your pussy milking him until the very last drop.

You mewl at his treatment, your wrists aching from his bruising grip, and he smirks, his red eyes gleaming. The way you look right now, his favourite image of contained desires. His dear beloved.

He will make it up to you later with sweet kisses and gentle caresses, but for now, he enjoys the sight of his cum oozing out of your well-fucked cunt, dripping onto the bedsheets.

DAN HENG ﾉ

This position isn’t something new, however, and even though the fact is pleasant to think about, you do wonder what caused him to get so bold. Maybe at the sight of you admiring his partially changed form, eyes drinking in the beautiful shimmer of his scales, he understood that you find him so attractive — as always, but now also intrigued by other parts of him that might be different.

His hand traces the lines of your ribs as you inhale at the feeling of him entering deeper — the unfamiliar shape of his cock nesting comfortably against your soft insides — and then he puts some weight on top of you, pressing you further into the pillows, his lips barely touching your own, unsure if he already wants to kiss you.

“Tell me if it hurts you.”

“It’s alright, really. You can… you know, continue…”

“Now I’m more concerned that you seem to like it more than when we’re doing it… gentler.” Surprised at his own talkativeness, there’s a red splash of colour on his cheeks as he bites his lips at the end of the sentence and buries his face in the crook of your neck. You giggle at his comment, but it turns into a needy moan as he moves his hips to rest snugly between your legs.

With your tongue, you slide across his upper lip, capturing it softly and biting on its tenderness, tasting a faint trace of his salty sweat and humming as he shivers, your fingers tangled in his hair, brushing through the ebony black locks, before whispering, “I know you’re holding back. No need to, I trust you.”

“Mmh,” Dan Heng mutters with a shaky breath as his shaft hardens and thickens at your reactions. Your reassuring words have such an impact on him; they're teasing him with this pleading tone of yours, allowing him to mate with you during the times when he gets so incredibly hot in your presence, unable to keep his hands off of you.

His thrusts start slow and measured; however, with each minute passing, he finds himself succumbing more and more to the instinct calling upon him; it is so much different now that you’re within his reach — how you react, how you look at him — everything makes him lose his cool. Soon his lips find your nipple again, teeth grazing sensitive skin until you hiss, yet push yourself towards him, arching your back. The sting of his bite stimulates you to the point where your inner walls spasm, clamping down on him tightly as you almost cry out.

Even the shallowest strokes produce audible squelching noises whenever he loses his rhythm. He’s just as intoxicated by the new sensation. The little details that change in his build now make you two melt in each other’s arms; his cock glides with fervour and carelessness against the spots that usually required precision.

The pleasure is overwhelming, even a bit eerie how accurate at bringing the sweetest of your sobs out. His instincts still force him to grip at your shoulders — you let him do this — to slam harder inside of your pussy. And you can barely take it, but he quickly looks at the side on the clock, and it’s been barely minutes since he started…

JING YUAN ﾉ

He embraces you tightly, wide arms with ease, groping your entire body as you shudder, and let him bring you closer, your back pressed to his soft yet firm chest — allowing his cock to reach deeper, spearing your entrance until your essence seeps out in abundance between your bodies.

Usually, you would expect Jing Yuan to prefer being face to face with you, but also knowing what a menace he can be, there must’ve been something more on his mind. Which catches you by surprise when you notice his fingers circle your clit from the front, sort of caging you between one pleasure and another as you helplessly try to wriggle out of his iron grip.

At that, what you hear is a chuckle — deep like the ocean, sweet like honey, dripping with both love and lust, and making you all fuzzy from within. The waves of immense enjoyment lap at your limbs from all sides, and you gasp out when his palm rubs you so skillfully, with care and adoration.

“No matter which part of you I touch… It’s a pleasure to watch you shake in my arms.” He purrs with a small smile, nibbling at your earlobe and inhaling the sweet scent of your hair. You wish to nod but can't, in fear that it’ll only spur him further on to bounce you on his cock and enjoy how you struggle with each thrust. “Does my beloved bird feel good?”

Before you can answer — which you would love to, gathering the strength and courage to wail and sob into his lips as your head falls back on his shoulder — his palm moves up from your bundle of nerves to your tummy, pressing on the soft flesh there. Intently. He knows exactly what to do to get a specific reaction out of you, to make himself moan as you clench abruptly on his girth despite your walls sobbing at the stretch. You feel so full in that moment, choking on your breath at the additional pressure, too occupied with his cock filling your body so wholly.

As he starts to fuck you relentlessly — you cry out, the pitch of your voice higher and higher as you slowly become incapable of maintaining any volume at all — the tiniest sounds, broken huffs of air leaving your mouth; your eyes are glassy with tears, and all you want to do is bury yourself in the pillows and blankets, somehow escape from this prison of bliss. But he holds you close, one hand fondling your breast and the other playing around your lower abdomen, always there where you don’t want him at the moment, just to tease and make you more and more desperate.

A little flick of his thumb against your pearl, a press on your belly, maybe even fingers parting your folds as he drags his fat tip in and out at the perfect angle. It’s enough to throw you over the edge again.

As if your body belonged to him — and he, being the ever caring lover, already knows everything about you, that you enjoy it too much when he manhandles you like this.

LUOCHA ﾉ

The immense pleasure causes your mouth to whine and moan out his name. “Luocha, Luocha…” Is all that can be heard in the room besides muffled gasps and melted noises of naked bodies colliding with each other.

Certainly unpredictable was meeting someone who’s but a travelling merchant, skilled enough to render you putty beyond measure with just a verse of his saccharine voice and touches. You don’t believe him anymore. Though you cannot find an answer to it at the moment whilst your brain just refuses to think of anything else except how well you’re currently getting fucked by that gentleman.

The beauty above you lowers his face close to your own, his treacly lips catching your own with a delicate bite, trailing down your jawline and neck with slow kisses. Lukewarm and wet, like the summer mizzle. Just merely too fast for you to appreciate his features before the golden curtain of his bangs falls across his cheekbones.

“Are you doing well, little thing?” He asks quietly into your collarbone, immediately switching your focus from his words to his cock. With a tender push, he stays still for a moment, pulsing flesh pressing constantly on all your sensitive spots.

“Too well…” you utter with a weak, genuine smile.

He smiles back. “That’s all I needed to hear.”

Luocha continues thrusting in and out at a suave pace, pounding into you with a special sense of skill and gentleness. Hauling into your cunt with each drag of his lean hips, his pace is unbothered, almost lenient with the offputting care. As if this meeting is sensible somehow, way above than what it truly is — a transient exchange of lecherousness, nothing more.

With his hands clamped around your waist, lifting you up slightly up from the bed, his swollen length reaches far inside of your aching core at that perfect angle, the tip gliding repeatedly against the sweetest patch of your walls. Drizzles of pre mingle with your essence and souse your puffy petals whenever he retreats from the confines of your insides, a proof of enjoyment that none of you is able to say out loud.

To keep him close — merge into the comfort of feeling someone’s warmth — you wrap yourself around his willowy silhouette, a ribbon made of entangled limbs.

“I wish we could meet again before we part ways.”

“You’re still here with me.” He hums into your ear, once again leaning in to smooch the side of your head, tickling your sweat-sodden hairline. “You should focus on that for now.”

All the overstimulation is taking your breath away, specs of drool sprinkled in the corner of your lips. His palm pets you softly between your legs, extracting another weep from your throat and a wobble of your tense thighs. The sudden impact of his digits rubbing on your clit draws you nearer to your orgasm; and he wishes to see it soon, so he concentrates on your reactions, tongue slightly peeking out from behind his teeth in concentration.

Your whimpers and cries — pure eroticism that makes him consider if it’s even worth to waste the softness of your fevered skin for a meaningless exchange. If one night can turn so satisfying, a pity it would be to say goodbye instead of promising another and another meeting after that. Perhaps…

AUTHOR’S NOTE — most of those are old thirsts that i put into one post with slightly edited past typos. but the hilarious thing is that luocha’s part had to be almost entirely rewritten today — and maybe it’s not visible to others, but i giggled comparing my writing. it’s like a rollercoaster from my perspective hehe

[muniimyg]

♡ 05: i bet we'd have really good—

series m.list // taglist

note: wowie,, thank u for 1.5k and for being so patient 💛 i’m so happy to be ending this mini fic and to have been interacting with u all :) my apologies if this ch sucks LOL i'm so sick rn but i'm tired of rewriting n writing... so enj !!! it's been so fun and i can't wait for more fics to come in 2025 !!! kisses my kitties😽💓

⏱️ this part goes thru time skips!

💭 which bed chem jk moment was ur fave?

warnings: tension/slow burn (friends first yk),, mean!jk trying to figure out how to be nicer to oc,, jk calls oc baby and kitty !!! teasing/dry humping (bc jk has glasses on. jk plays with her titties/nipples & jk cums thru his sweatpants),, jealousy (v teeny tiny),, virginity talk/actual sex; oc loses her virginity to jk (jk eats her out/fingers her, ass slapping, dirty talk, rawdogging,, missionary, doggy, blowjob/headpushing & face cumshot)

//

it’s been a week since jungkook kissed you, and he has made it your problem.

truth be told, he has made a game of this—hovering without hovering… just close enough to test the line. whatever way he plays, jungkook is always shameless in the most subtle and maddening ways.

sometimes his hand brushes yours as you walk, light and fleeting… and it’s impossible not to notice the way his fingers twitch. it’s like he’s debating whether to grab it or not.

you don’t make it any easier on yourself, either.

there’s this suffocating tension between you two and some days are better than others… like today.

“why are you so quiet?” you ask, glancing at him over your shoulder.

he tilts his head, feigning confusion. 

“why? does the silence make your heart race?”

you scoff, rolling your eyes, and that’s when he strikes—his foot nudging yours mid-step. it’s just enough to throw you off balance, making you stumble slightly, your bag slipping again.

“jungkook!”

he’s already reaching out, catching the strap before it can fall. 

“careful,” he says, his voice all mock concern, but the way his lips twitch gives him away.

you glare at him, yanking your bag out of his grip. 

“you’re the one who tripped me.”

“prove it."

"seriously?"

"if you can't prove it... you have to kiss me. you know, as compensation for accusing me so unjustly." he says, wide-eyed and innocent, though the corners of his mouth are curling into a smirk.

it’s infuriating, but it’s also... not. 

not when he’s looking at you like that, like he knows exactly how to get under your skin and is thoroughly enjoying it.

“do friends kiss?” you narrow your gaze at him. “do friends trip each other over? do friends—“

“do friends wait for each other?” jungkook leans towards you. “mhmm? do friends have ulterior motives—”

“you have ulterior motives?”

“oh, absolutely.”

friendship. 

it’s odd to say the least—the way you and jungkook have fallen into this friendship. that’s what you’ve both agreed on. 

friends. 

but the lines are blurry. 

so blurry they might as well not exist at all… because what kind of friends kiss on the cheek as casually as saying hello? what kind of friends text each other goodnight every single evening, or linger too long in conversations that could end with a simple goodbye?

the rules of your agreement feel more like suggestions—ones jungkook seems intent on bending just enough to keep you guessing. and you let him, which might be the strangest part of all.

… because deep down, you know this isn’t just friendship. not with the way he looks at you, his gaze lingering a second too long, or the way his touch always feels like a question he’s waiting for you to answer.

but maybe that’s the thing about blurry lines—they give you just enough room to pretend you don’t already know where you’re headed.

yet, even with all his teasing, there’s a hesitancy to him sometimes—a split-second pause when your hands brush, a quiet shift in his expression when he catches you looking at him. it’s like he’s still figuring out how to balance whatever this is between you, testing the waters but not wanting to dive in too fast.

and honestly?

you feel the same.

it’s why you let him get away with stuff like this. why you don’t pull away when his hand accidentally-on-purpose brushes yours for the third time in as many minutes. why you don’t tell him to stop following you to your study spot or showing up outside your class with some excuse about “just being in the area.”

because the truth is, you like having him around. 

you like the way he keeps you on your toes… even if it’s by trying to trip you up, only to catch you before you fall.

and maybe—just maybe—you like the way his smile softens sometimes when he thinks you’re not looking.

tonight, the group decides on a night out.

the street food spot everyone agreed on is already buzzing when you get there, the warm glow of string lights crisscrossing above the narrow alleyways, casting soft shadows on the busy stalls below. the air is alive with the scent of sizzling tteokbokki and freshly steamed hotteok, mingling with bursts of laughter and the occasional pop of oil from a nearby grill.

you arrive late as usual. 

by the time you weave your way through the crowd, the others have scattered, splitting up to hunt down whatever caught their eye. 

that’s when you spot him.

jungkook leans lazily against a lamppost near the edge of the main street, one hand tucked into his pocket, the other holding a stick of half-eaten odeng. the glow from the lights above reflects faintly in his dark eyes, making them look warmer than usual, though his expression stays comfortably neutral—like he’s been waiting.

but he doesn’t mind.

“you’re late,” he says as you approach, not even bothering to straighten up. his voice is low, unbothered, but there’s something teasing in the way his lips twitch into the barest hint of a smirk.

“i’m literally 5 minutes late.”

“still late.”

jungkook takes one last bite of the fish cake before tossing the stick into a nearby bin. he steps closer, casual but deliberate, and before you can come up with a snappy reply, he leans down and presses a quick kiss to your cheek.

it’s smooth—too smooth.

it’s like he’s been doing it forever.

you barely have time to register the warmth blooming in your chest before he’s grabbing your hands, shoving them unceremoniously into the front pocket of his hoodie along with his own.

“jungkook—”

“your hands looked cold,” he says simply, his tone light, like this is the most natural thing in the world.

his fingers shift slightly, brushing against yours, and though his expression stays neutral, you catch the subtle curve of his mouth—the smug kind he tries to hide but never quite manages.

you roll your eyes, more out of habit than anything else, and let out a sigh...

but you don’t pull away.

“i have gloves.”

“they're ugly."

you glare at him.

"... and you have me."

the air stills.

“what?” he asks, his shoulder bumping yours as he starts walking, steering you toward the first row of stalls.

“nothing.”

but the corner of your mouth twitches. you try to hold back your smile.

he catches it, of course. 

his grin widens, soft and slow.

jungkook nudges you again, this time with more intention. you can feel the warmth of his hand through the fabric, steady and sure, even as the cold night air bites at your skin.

you can't help but give in. a laugh escapes your lips as you nudge him back. jungkook laughs too, but pulls you close at the very last second.

he breathes you in.

the first stall serves fresh tteokbokki, steaming and spicy. the scent alone makes your stomach growl, but jungkook is already a step ahead, paying for the food before you can reach for your wallet.

“you didn’t have to do that,” you say, trying to grab a pair of chopsticks from the tray.

he beats you to it, of course, picking up a piece of tteokbokki with the kind of exaggerated precision that makes you squint at him. then, he places the chopsticks in between your fingers.

“feed me," he says.

“absolutely not."

he steps closer. 

“okay, fine. i’ll feed you—”

you shove the tteok in his mouth. 

he chews, chuckling and enjoying your choice. 

“you’re so annoying,” you tell him as he swallows.

“really? am i?”

“really. you are."

jungkook shrugs. 

then, he takes the chopsticks and picks up a tteok, and feeds you. he watches closely as you chew, his wide eyes fixed on your face in a way that makes you feel exposed.

“how annoying?”

in between chews, you fixate on his smirk. as he leans into level with you, you almost choke at how his nose nearly brushed yours. you can feel the weight of his gaze, daring you to say something.

“jungkook…” you warn, your voice flat, but your hands betray you. they reach up to cup his cheeks, and though your intention is to shove him back, you don’t.

instead, your thumbs press lightly against the soft skin of his jaw as you squint at him.

“what’s this smile?” you ask, narrowing your eyes. “what are you so excited over, bestie?”

his expression flickers for a second, his brows twitching in annoyance at the word. you know he hates it when you call him that. bestie? who are you even talking to?

“your lips look cold. can i warm them up for you?” he asks suddenly, his voice dropping low enough to send shivers down your spine.

you scoff, warmth creeping up your neck. “nice try—”

“no, no, i insist,” he interrupts, tilting his head slightly, pretending to think it over. “don't want you to be all cold and shit.”

“jungkook.” your tone is sharp, but it’s laced with amusement, and he knows it.

“what?” he murmurs, leaning in closer, his lips curving into a smirk. “you said you want to take things slow. i’ll kiss you real slow—”

your jaw drops. 

“you’re impossible.”

he stands back up with a grin, his hands still in the pocket of his hoodie, keeping yours snugly tucked inside. he rocks back on his heels, clearly pleased with himself. 

“let’s not pretend we don’t know what we know.”

“i don’t know much,” you retort, but the small smile tugging at your lips betrays you. “i’m not a nerd—”

“yah! hurry up!” taehyung’s voice booms from a stall across the street, breaking the moment. you glance over to find him waving dramatically, his other arm slung around yoongi, who looks less than thrilled. 

“we found the mandu!” taehyung adds.

“mandu sounds good,” jungkook says as he gives your hands a small squeeze. then, he gently pulls you toward the others. "let's go." 

“stop dragging me around,” you complain, though you don’t actually try to pull away.

“you’re walking too slow.”

but you aren’t. 

you know you aren’t and so does he… but you let him hold your hand anyway.

a week later, jungkook feels like he might piss himself.

he leans against the edge of his desk, scrolling through his phone for the 5th time in as many minutes. his thumb hovers over the screen, debating whether to check his messages again, even though he knows there’s no point. 

you haven’t replied yet.

the fundraiser for marine conservation is tonight, and he’s been pretending it’s no big deal... but fuck.

he was so nervous when he asked you to go with him and now he feels like all his efforts are being wasted.

...

“so, uh,” he starts, his voice a little too casual, “there’s this fundraiser gala thing on friday night. save the dolphins thing—a-and… it’s no big deal but—”

you glance at him, eyebrows raised. 

“yeah? sounds fancy.”

he shrugs, keeping his eyes fixed on the road ahead. “i guess it is. it’s a black-tie kind of event… and i, uh… i was thinking... maybe you’d want to come with me?”

you blink, caught off guard by the sudden invite. 

“i hate dolphins.”

“i know.”

you sigh, pretending to be burdened by his request. “but i’ll go. if you want me to.”

“i do want you to.”

“okay.”

“good,” he breathes, glancing over with a lopsided grin that he hopes hides how nervous he actually feels. “you’ll make me look good. people are suckers for pretty dates.”

“oh, so you’re using me as a prop?” you tease, though your lips twitch into a smirk.

“obviously,” he replies smoothly, though his grip on the wheel tightens slightly. “but, hey, it’s a dinner, you get to see my in a tux which is practically dessert—.”

you shake your head, laughing softly. 

“you’re ridiculous.”

“so ridiculous that this can count as our first date?” he presses, glancing over again, this time with a flicker of uncertainty he hopes you don’t catch.

after a beat, you sigh dramatically, turning in your seat to face him. 

“it’s a date.”

just as he’s about to make another comment, you lean over and press a quick kiss to his cheek, catching him completely off guard. his hands freeze on the wheel for half a second before he recovers.

“you missed—”

you laugh and hit his chest. then, he gets out of the car, helps you out, and walks you to your doorstep. 

...

now, as he sits alone in his room, the anticipation bubbling just under his skin, his phone buzzes on the counter. his heart skips for a moment before he grabs it, only to feel it sink as he reads your message.

yn [4:31PM]: nurse said it’s food poisoning  yn [4:32PM]: she gave me some meds to help but i literally feel like shit  yn [4:33PM]: i don’t think i’ll be able to make it tonight, baby :( i’m so sorry nerd [4:34PM]: don’t apologize. i’ll be over in a bit yn [4:35PM]: what ?? no !! get ready for your event. it’s important nerd [4:35PM]: so are u yn [4:36PM]: i’ll survive. go save the dolphins :p

his brows knit together as he reads it again, leaning back into the couch with a frustrated sigh.

he knows he shouldn’t feel disappointed—you can’t control being sick, and it’s not like this event means anything special. 

at least, that’s what he’s been telling himself.

still, he stares at the message for a long moment, debating whether to reply right away or wait a few minutes so he doesn’t seem too eager. his fingers hover over the keyboard before he finally types out a response, keeping it short and light, like he’s unbothered.

nerd [4:40PM]: get some rest. i’ll be telling everyone you ditched me tho  yn [4:41PM]: be sure to let the dolphins know too 🙂

he lets out a chuckle, but the weight in his chest doesn’t go away. 

he tosses his phone onto the coffee table and rakes a hand through his hair, wondering why the idea of showing up without you feels so much worse than he’d expected.

then, his phone buzzes with messages from the fundraiser committee. 

yet, he can only think of you… it’s a sinking feeling in his chest. 

you’re sick. 

the thought of going to that event while you’re home feeling miserable doesn’t sit right with him.

he sighs, grabbing his hoodie and pulling it over his head. he knows this is unprofessional and such an pussy excuse but—forget the event. 

it’s you that matters to him the most right now. 

so, jungkook calls his event and lets them know that something came up. he tosses aside his tux and puts on comfier clothes before heading to the kitchen to make you some chicken noodle soup.

before he heads out, jungkook hears a familiar groan from the living room. he turns, already annoyed, knowing exactly who it is.

jimin and taehyung are stretched out on the couch, looking like they’ve been hit by a truck. 

their faces are pale, eyes glassy with fever, and they groan as they shift under the blanket. it’s obvious they’re just as sick as you, if not worse.

“yo, jungkook,” taehyung calls out, voice nasally, “did you make soup? be a good boy and give us some—” 

jimin, equally pitiful, sits up a little and gives jungkook a pleading look. “yeah, we’re starving, man. plus, you’re not gonna leave us to die alone, right?”

jungkook raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“you won’t die from starvation.”

“how are you so sure?”

“cos i’ll kill you first,” jungkook snorts. “you guys got my girl sick with that stupid omelet you made her.”

the two of them groan in response, sitting up slowly. taehyung rubs his face with his hand. “we didn’t mean to! bro, look at us. you think we wanted this? we’re sick, too, you know.”

“yeah,” jimin adds, “there’s two friends sick here for you to take care of.”

jungkook just looks at them, his gaze hard. 

“who do you think i’m gonna choose right now?”

jimin squints, looking him up and down. “don’t you have that gala tonight?”

jungkook hesitates for a split second, but quickly shakes his head, giving them a dismissive wave. 

“it got canceled.” he lies. 

then, he turns away to head out the door. before he leaves he yells; “i’ll text yoongi hyung to make you some soup. don’t bother me. not coming home tonight.”

about 25 minutes later, jungkook stands in front of your doorway and his gaze falls on you as you open the door.

you're wearing his oversized t-shirt, hair up in a messy bun, and a pair of shorts—looking exhausted and a little pale. his stomach churns with worry, but he keeps his cool as always.

"what are you doing here? the gala..." you trail off, but before he can answer, you quickly turn and rush to the bathroom.

"shit," he mutters under his breath, following you at a steady pace.

when he enters the bathroom, you're already kneeling over the toilet, retching. his heart drops, but he doesn’t flinch. moving to your side, he gently pats your back.

“it was this bad?” he grumbles, a frown pulling at his lips. “why were you downplaying it through text?”

you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, barely acknowledging him.

“i’m fine, seriously. just... just a little nausea.”

“fuck, ___..” he snaps, but his voice isn’t angry, more like exasperated. "this is stupid. you can’t be alone if you can’t even handle standing up to get the door without throwing up. are you fucking serious?." his eyes are narrowing now, the concern clear despite his snappy tone. “what the hell, ___?"

you sit back on the floor, leaning against the wall, your face pale. 

“i already bailed on the date. i couldn’t let you bail on the gala entirely.”

he shoots you a look, incredulous. 

“you think I’d rather be at a gala without you? honestly?”

“i just—"

“shut up,” he interrupts, his voice softer but firm. "you need someone. i’m here. deal with it."

there’s no room for argument in his voice.

you give him a tired smile despite the situation, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. 

“you shouldn’t be here, though.”

“say that again.”

your lips tighten.

then, you gag and rush back to the toilet bowl. jungkook remains by your side, rubbing your back as you deal with another wave of nausea.

the moment is quiet except for the soft sounds of you breathing in between. for a second, it almost feels like everything has stopped, like it’s just the two of you in your small bathroom, nothing else in the world mattering.

after 40 minutes of hovering over the toilet, jungkook gets you settled on the couch.

he brings you water and asks if you’re down for some food. he brought over chicken noodle soup and you need to have something in your stomach before taking your medicine. you simply agree and wait for him to serve you. 

as you eat the soup, he scrolls through netflix and plays something. he talks for most of it and it helps distract you from feeling the full extent of your sickness. after you’ve eaten some of the soup he brought, you ask him to grab the medicine from your bag. 

“can you grab the other medicine bottle from my bag? the one the nurse gave me?”

jungkook, of course, doesn’t hesitate. 

he gets up and finds your bag in your bedroom. he pulls open your bag and begins rummaging through it, looking for the bottle. when his hand brushes against something thick and solid, he pulls out a book titled, “everything you need to know about dolphins a to z.”

his eyebrows furrow for a second as he stares down at it.

he doesn’t know why, but a strange warmth spreads through him. it’s pretty obvious why you have this book—but seeing it in your bag... it makes him pause.

his lips tighten slightly as he puts the book back down in your bag, quickly hiding his reaction. he doesn’t want you to see how much it’s affecting him right now.

when he returns with the medicine, his expression’s back to its usual, nonchalant self. as much as jungkook wants to pretend like he didn’t see it or that seeing it didn’t matter—he can’t. 

to him, it mattered. 

it mattered a lot.

a few days later, you’re sitting across from jungkook in the library. 

the late afternoon sun streaming through the tall windows and casting a golden glow over the table. textbooks and notebooks are scattered between you, his handwriting messier than yours but still oddly charming. you’re mid-sentence, asking him about his opinion on a the newest theory you learned during your lecture when he suddenly tugs off his crewneck, revealing the black t-shirt clinging to his frame underneath.

it’s warm in the library, the kind of cozy heat that sneaks up on you, and he doesn’t think twice about it. 

but you do.

“woah—” you blurt out, your question forgotten as your gaze catches on his arms. you've seen his tattoos before but for some reason... they look different to you now.

they appeal different to you.

jungkook looks up from his notes, brows raised.

“what?”

you blink, trying to refocus, but your eyes betray you, flickering back to the ink winding its way down his arm. 

“your tattoos,” you say, almost dazed. “they’re... really hot.”

“think so?”

“yeah,” you admit. “gets me horny. ”

you then feel the warmth crawl up your neck as the words leave your mouth. you quickly look back down at your notes, hoping the earth might just swallow you whole.

jungkook freezes for a moment, the tips of his ears turning the faintest shade of pink. then he shakes his head, a small, lopsided smile tugging at his lips. it’s not his usual confident grin—it’s softer, like he’s caught off guard but not in a bad way.

he doesn’t say anything, just ducks his head slightly, the corners of his mouth twitching like he’s trying to hold back a laugh.

you try to ignore the way he shifts in his seat, casually stretching his arms behind his head like he’s showing off—not that he’d ever admit it...

for the next two weeks, jungkook suddenly seems allergic to long sleeves. 

he starts showing up in short-sleeved t-shirts, rolling his sleeves higher than necessary when he wears his uniform jacket, and leaning in just a little closer when he knows your gaze will drift.

“you’re shameless,” you mumble one day, catching him flexing—not subtly—while reaching for a book on the top shelf.

“what?” he asks innocently, glancing down at you with those wide eyes that don’t match the smirk tugging at his lips.

you roll your eyes, biting back a grin.

“you’re annoying.”

“why? are you horny?” he says, his voice low enough to make you want to shove him.

you don’t answer, but the way you avoid his gaze—and the small smile tugging at your lips—says enough. he notices, of course, because he always does.

after a few moments of silence, you huff at him.

"is everything you say always so... dirty?"

he shrugs.

"you brought up being horny first..."

"yeah, but—"

"you think i'm dirty?" jungkook interrupts you. "should i shower?"

you scoff at him. before you can say anything, he adds;

"you’d join me though, right?"

a month later, jungkook does it again. 

you find yourself standing in the middle of your apartment—he shows up.

your phone is clutched tightly in your hand as you try to blink away the tears threatening to spill. the call you just had—a frustrating, heart-wrenching argument with your family—leaves you feeling raw and small. the weight of their words presses heavily on your chest, and all you can do is stare blankly at the mess of papers scattered on your desk.

a sharp knock on your door pulls you out of your thoughts. you freeze, wiping at your cheeks hastily, but the door creaks open before you can say anything.

"is that my hoodie?"

"jungkook—"

“you haven't been answering my texts all day,” jungkook says, stepping in without waiting for an invitation. he’s holding a bag of takeout.

"everything okay?"

“i’m fine,” you say, your voice shaky despite your best efforts to sound convincing.

he narrows his eyes at you, placing the takeout and hoodie on your coffee table before crossing his arms.

“yeah, no.”

you try to argue, but he’s already moving, shrugging off his jacket and plopping onto the couch like he owns the place.

“whatever it is, you don’t have to talk about it right now,” he says, pulling out containers of food. “but you do have to eat. and i’m not leaving until you do.”

your throat tightens at his matter-of-fact tone, his presence somehow both comforting and overwhelming. he doesn’t pry, doesn’t demand to know what happened.

“you didn’t have to come,” you murmur, sinking onto the couch beside him.

“yeah, i did,” he replies, handing you a pair of chopsticks. “and don’t even think about pretending you’re not hungry.”

a small, shaky laugh escapes you, the tension in your chest loosening just a little.

“you’re so annoying.”

“friends are supposed to annoy each other. learned that shit from you.”

jungkook’s door swings open with a suddenness that startles him. 

the faint squeak of the hinges cuts through the quiet. he’s mid-motion, towel slung around his neck, tugging a loose white shirt over his head when you stroll in without so much as a knock. he’s also wearing grey sweatpants… 

wet hair, white shirt, and grey sweats? 

the holy trinity.

“you know,” he begins to scold you. “boundaries exist for a reason.”

he shakes his damp hair as you plop onto his bed like it’s yours.

“boundaries?” you scoff, grabbing your plushie. your precious hello kitty plushie. “this is practically my second home.”

he doesn’t argue, just lets out a quiet chuckle as he pulls the hem of his shirt down. 

holding up the plushie like it’s the most precious thing you’ve ever seen. “can i take her home today?”

“sure,” jungkook says, his voice carrying that infuriating mix of teasing confidence and barely veiled challenge. he leans against his desk, arms crossed, watching with a smirk as you clutch the hello kitty plushie tightly to your chest, as if it’s your only lifeline against his charm. 

“can i be your boyfriend today?”

you groan, throwing yourself back onto his bed with a dramatic sigh, the plushie landing on your face. 

“seriously? you’re really holding this poor plushie hostage?”

he laughs, low and amused, pushing off the desk and taking a few steps closer. 

“a deal’s a deal,” he says lightly, but there’s a glint in his eyes as he towers over you. “you can take her home—when you’re my girl.”

you yank the plushie off your face, sitting up sharply. 

“do you think we’re better friends?” you huff, your tone indignant but your heart racing under the weight of his gaze. 

jungkook crouches slightly, leaning in until his face is just a few inches from yours. his smirk softens into something more playful, but the shift in proximity makes your stomach flip. 

“i think so…” he murmurs, his eyes flickering between your face and the plushie pressed against your chest. “aside from me trying to kiss you every chance i get and you being horny every time you see my tattoos—”

you narrow your eyes at him, holding the plushie tighter, as if it’s a shield against the way he’s looking at you. 

“you’re unbelievable.”

“and yet,” he starts, his voice dropping an octave as he moves even closer, one hand bracing on the bed beside your knee, the other reaching out to gently brush his fingers over the plushie’s soft fabric. “here you are.”

his free hand slides around your waist, tugging you just slightly toward him, and your breath hitches. “but if you don’t want her…” he teases, his voice trailing off as his face inches closer to yours. his gaze dips briefly to your lips, and before you can fully process it, he’s leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek.

except you shove hello kitty between you two just in time.

“nope!” you say quickly, holding the plushie up like a barrier, your cheeks flaming as you hear him laugh, the sound vibrating through the air between you.

“seriously?” he says, pulling back just enough to raise an eyebrow, though his grin never falters. his hand stays firm at your waist, his thumb brushing the fabric of your shirt in slow, lazy circles. “you’re really using her to block me?”

“you started it,” you shoot back, glaring at him even as your grip on the plushie tightens.

“fair,” he admits with a chuckle, straightening up slightly but keeping his hold on you. his other hand moves to tap the plushie’s head. “but the deal still stands. not my girlfriend, not your hello kitty.”

“you’re ridiculous.”

he tilts his head, his grin softening, though his hand still lingers at your waist, his warmth impossible to ignore. 

“i don’t know,” he says, his voice quieter now, almost coaxing. “sounds like a pretty good deal to me.”

you glare at him again, this time with less heat, and shove the plushie into his chest.

“you’re insufferable.”

he laughs, taking the plushie from your hands but not letting you go.

“maybe,” he says, “but you’re still here.”

hours later, the room is quiet except for the soft scratch of jungkook’s pen against paper and the occasional shuffle of his chair as he shifts at his desk. you’re curled up on his bed, the hello kitty plushie still clutched against your chest, your breaths slow and steady as sleep overtakes you.

he glances back at you every now and then, a small, unspoken fondness softening his features. when you stir, rubbing your eyes and sitting up, he turns back to his notes, feigning nonchalance.

you pad over to him, your steps muffled against the carpet. without a word, you slip onto his lap, one arm draping lazily over his shoulders as you pluck his glasses from his face.

“good nap?” he asks, his voice a mix of amusement and exasperation as you slide the frames onto your own nose. “those—”

squinting dramatically, you nag him; “ugh, how do you even function with these? everything’s blurry.”

“that’s because they’re prescription, genius,” he says, reaching for them, but you lean back, keeping them out of his reach.

“maybe i’ll keep these,” you tease, poking at the side of his head. “you can’t study without them, can you?”

“give them back, or i’m kicking you off my lap,” he warns, though his hands settle firmly on your waist instead of following through on his threat.

“yeah, sure... because you hate this so much.”

“try me,” he challenges, his grip tightening just slightly as if to prove his point.

“you’re so bossy,” you grumble, sliding the glasses off and placing them haphazardly on his desk. “happy now?”

“ecstatic,” he says dryly, though his lips twitch upward.

you lean closer, your face just inches from his, your playful smirk softening into something quieter, more genuine. 

“you know, you’re really cute when you’re all serious, studious, and grumpy.”

“and you’re kind of annoying when you don’t let me finish studying,” he shoots back, though there’s no real bite to his words.

“fine, fine,” you say, preparing to climb off his lap with exaggerated dramatics. “go be a nerd. i’ll be over there cuddling hello kitty—”

“i could use a 5 minute break.”

you fix your posture, perking up. 

“really?” you tilt your head at him. “i mean… i’d hate to distract you.”

“really?” he mocks you. “you’re sitting on my lap and moving your hips and yet—you’d hate to distract me, huh?”

you nod innocently. then, you shrug and confess;

“i’m bored.”

“what do you want me to do about that? this final is really important—f-fuck. ___, don’t move like that.”

you shift again. 

“like what?”

“you know what you’re—”

“what am i doing?” you ask, leaning your body closer to his. you caress his face and pout at him. “is 5 minutes even considered a break? don’t you need more time?”

“more time for what?” jungkook lowers his gaze at you. 

“i don’t know,” you giggle. “what do you wanna do?”

jungkook can’t take it. 

playing cat and dog or whatever this bullshit is. 

you’re on top of him, prettier than ever. you’re wearing a low-cut tank top with a fucking bow in the middle… and he can’t breathe anything in except you. what is he supposed to do right now? 

“___… if you don’t get off me—”

“if i don’t get off you… what?”

you smile at him softly. shifting again, you drag your hips towards him. his eyes widen. 

“i might cum.”

you pout. “really?”

jungkook swallows. 

“keep moving your hips like that and you’ll find out soon.”

“oh…”

a beat. 

“like this?”

before he knows it, you’re humping him. 

he grunts as he feels himself harden under you. you bite your bottom lip as you drag your hips back and forth. you feel the pressure against your clit as your clothes rub together. 

jungkook hisses at your pace. 

“f-fuck..”

as he bucks his lips, he places his hands on your waist, helping your movement. you let out a few breathy moans and jungkook feels like he could die. 

you’re so pretty. 

his hands tighten around you when he senses that you’re close. 

“am i doing this right? it feels—feels g-good.”

“yeah? feels good, baby?” jungkook breathes.

“mhmm…”

“do you feel my dick?” he asks. “feel how hard it is against your fucking pussy?”

“i do,” you moan. “so big, jungkook. can i take it soon?”

he hisses. 

“promise me,” you whine. “promise me that you’ll fuck me soon.”

jungkook’s breath hitches. 

he was wrong. 

that time he ran his mouth about your virginity being too much or a burden or something—fuck was he wrong. 

it’s not a burden.

it’s the greatest privilege he could ever be given… now to have you like this? begging like that? holy shit is he more than ready to give you anything and everything you want. 

“promise, baby,” he says. “promise it’s gonna be me.”

you nod, happy with his answer. 

and just as you’re about to continue, you take his hands to your tits. first, he squeezes them… then you guide them to the strap of your tank top. taking the cue, jungkook tugs your straps down, revealing your bare tits. 

“___…” he moans. “shit.”

you bring his hands to your tits again, helping him cup them. as you hump him with more intensity, jungkook’s mouth parts. your tits bounce up and down and it sends shivers down his spine. your tits are so full in his hands and so fucking perfect up close. he loves all of it—the shape, the size, the way it feels… so soft. he’s always been an ass type of guy but holy shit—your tits are a game changer for him. 

nevertheless, he tries to focuses on you. 

“bouncy.”

“yeah?” you pant. “you like them?”

jungkook nods pathetically. 

he fights shutting his eyes. he wants to remember all of this. every detail. 

how hard he is right now. how hard your nipples are and how they feel being played in between his fingers. he runs his thumb around them, pressing, squeezing, and tugging… he loves how your moans sound—like they’re music to his ears… he can’t… he can’t picture anything else. he can’t hear anything else. he can’t breathe anything in but you.

“jungkook…” you cry, feeling yourself about to climax.

“s-shit,” he hisses as you begin to whimper. 

the humping is great. 

amazing in fact—but the way you’re whimpering right now? 

fuck.

“jungkook,” you breathe, trying to catch your breath. “a-are you close? mhmmm… f-fuck!” 

you hump him faster and harder. he lets out a few moans before sharply inhaling—

“o-ohh,” jungkook moans. “nghhhh… fuck.”

you grind on him slowly, easing his release. his crotch area is wet, making an obvious stain on his grey sweatpants.

he throws his head back. you lean over and kiss his neck. he bites his lip, attempting to hide his smile. 

a silence fills the room. 

you two are in total disbelief. 

then, you shift and he places his hands on your waist again. 

“did you cum?” 

he lets out a chuckle. “yeah. did you?”

“i think so? i don’t know.”

“sorry,” he sighs, a little disappointed you didn’t get to finish. “do you wanna—”

“it’s fine that i didn’t come. i had fun…”

jungkook shakes his head. “no, it’s okay. i can—”

“can i see?”

jungkook blinks at you. 

“what?”

“you came right?”

“yeah—”

“can i see what your cum looks like?”

some days with jungkook are so easy, it’s almost laughable.

the dynamic feels less like a friendship and more like a game you’re both playing—teasing, flirting, seeing how far you can push before one of you finally gives in.

but then there are days like this.

it’s been 3 month and a half since the kiss, and the comfort between you has grown in a way that makes everything feel light, almost effortless. you’re more yourself around him, and he’s let down his walls in ways you didn’t even realize were there. 

still, sometimes, you push his buttons just a little too hard.

today is one of those days.

it starts with a series of texts.

your usual banter that, for whatever reason, strikes a nerve.

maybe he’s stressed, or maybe you’re just too good at knowing exactly how to get under his skin. either way, it doesn’t take long before his responses turn clipped, each word laced with an irritation you’re not used to seeing from him.

yn [1:41PM]: C₄₃H₆₆N₁₂O₁₂S₂ nerd [1:48PM]: 😳 yn [1:50PM]: am i speaking ur language  nerd [1:53PM]: fluently, yes yn [1:54PM]: cool. dohwan taught me it  yn [1:55PM]: what does it mean nerd [1:59PM]: not funny. yn [2:00PM]: why am i laughing then seen yn [2:01PM]: aw don’t get all mad nerd [2:08PM]: not mad. jus uninterested in this topic. yn [2:10PM]: i’m sorry seen yn [2:14PM]: sorry :(  yn [2:15PM]: jungkook !!! yn [2:16PM]: wanna make out? typing… nerd [2:21PM]: yes

you don’t mean for it to escalate, but by the time you realize he’s genuinely annoyed, it’s too late to fix it over text. you bite your lip, staring at your phone, debating your next move.

and then, because you’re you, you grab your bag and head straight for his lab.

jungkook’s reputation precedes him on campus.

professors practically gloat about having him in their classes, like his achievements are trophies they get to display. it isn’t just his grades or his research—it’s the way he carries himself. sure, he's a little antisocial but he's focused, driven, and somehow still effortlessly cool.

you always knew he was smart, but seeing him in his element, tucked away in the chemistry lab during his solo hours, is something else entirely.

the lab is a world of its own.

notes scrawled in sharp, precise handwriting cover the workspace, surrounded by neatly labeled vials, bubbling solutions, and meticulous arrangements of equipment.

jungkook stands at the center of it all, wearing a crisp lab coat with the sleeves rolled up just enough to reveal the ink decorating his forearms. protective goggles perch on his nose, and his brows furrow as he scribbles something into a notebook. he’s intimidatingly focused, and for a moment, you hesitate in the doorway.

he notices the movement immediately, his sharp eyes snapping up to meet yours. for a beat, his expression doesn’t change, and your stomach churns with nerves under his scrutinizing gaze.

“what are you doing here?”

“i, uh…” you shift awkwardly, trying to find your footing under his intense stare. “i wanted to check on you. you seemed upset earlier.”

jungkook exhales, a hand dragging through his dark hair, slightly disheveling the strands sticking out under the goggles. his posture stiffens slightly before he stands straighter, folding his arms across his chest. 

“i’m fine,” he says, the words clipped and automatic, like he’s said them a hundred times before.

he doesn’t look at you again after that, instead turning back to the dense notebook in front of him. his pen taps against the edge of the table, a sharp, rhythmic sound that fills the silence between you.

you glance around, taking in the scrawled notes and bubbling glassware, and suddenly, you feel like an intruder.

this isn’t just a workspace; it’s his domain, and you’re a trespasser.

“right,” you whisper. “sorry. i just—”

your words catch as his head snaps up again, this time really looking at you. his dark eyes flick to the way you stand there, hands shoved deep into your jacket pockets, shoulders hunched slightly, and chewing the inside of your cheek.

the tension in his jaw softens, and he exhales again, but this time, it’s quieter, almost resigned. his shoulders relax as he sets the pen down, giving you his full attention now.

“do you want a tour?” he asks, his voice losing some of its earlier sharpness.

you blink at him, caught off guard. 

“really?”

he shrugs, a small, almost reluctant smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

“yeah. just… don’t touch anything.”

you hesitate, unsure if this is a genuine offer or just him humoring you. but the way his gaze lingers—softer now, like he’s extending an olive branch—makes you take a small step forward.

“you’re sure?” you ask cautiously, your weight shifting between your feet.

“wouldn’t have offered if i wasn’t,” he says, already turning to gather a few items from the cluttered table.

his words are casual, but there’s something unspoken in the way he says them. it’s as if he’s acknowledging your effort without outright saying it, inviting you into a space you know he doesn’t share lightly.

“okay,” you say softly, stepping closer as he gestures to the setup in front of him.

jungkook guides you through the lab, his hand casually finding its way to the small of your back as he gestures to the next setup. the touch is subtle but grounding, the heat of his palm against your waist sending a quick flutter of awareness through you. his fingers rest there, steady, as he moves you along with a quiet confidence, his focus more on the equipment than the way your heart picks up its pace.

“this is my catalytic synthesis project,” he starts, motioning to the crowded workspace. his tone is calmer now, almost instructional as if falling into the rhythm of explaining makes it easier to let his guard down.

as he starts detailing his work, his body language shifts. his shoulders loosen, and the furrow in his brow disappears as he picks up a flask of pale yellow liquid. his hand moves with precise confidence, holding it up to the light as if to showcase his work.

“what does that even mean?” you ask, leaning in closer to inspect the array of equipment.

“it’s about creating biodiesel,” he explains, holding up a sheet of paper covered in equations and diagrams. “basically, i’m optimizing the reaction process to make it more efficient. fewer byproducts, higher yield.”

you blink, squinting at the equations like they might magically make sense. 

“that’s cool… i think. but how do you even do that?”

he chuckles, the sound low and surprisingly soft. 

“this,” he says, holding the flask again. “this is the feedstock. it’s like the base oil we start with. i mix it with methanol and a catalyst—”

“wait,” you interrupt, raising a hand. “what’s a catalyst?”

his lips twitch into a small grin, clearly amused by your cluelessness. 

“a catalyst is a substance that speeds up a chemical reaction without being consumed in the process.”

you nod as if you understand, but the tilt of your head gives you away.

jungkook sets the flask down and leans a hip against the table, crossing his arms loosely. “okay, think of it like this. imagine you’re cooking something. the catalyst is like the pan—it doesn’t get eaten, but it helps everything cook faster.”

“ohhh,” you say, the metaphor finally clicking. “why didn’t you just say that from the start?”

he raises an eyebrow, biting back a grin. “because i thought you were smart enough to keep up.”

“wow,” you deadpan, crossing your arms. “i come here to check on you, and this is the thanks i get?”

he shakes his head, a quiet laugh escaping him as he nudges your shoulder lightly with his. “first of all, you annoyed me. second of all, you’re the one who wanted a tour. i’m just giving you the full experience.”

“oh, sorry—” you let out a shallow laugh. “should i leave then—”

jungkook shakes his head and points to another setup—a small beaker bubbling over a hot plate. 

“look! this is the reaction in progress. that bubbling? that’s the methanol reacting with the oil. and over there,” he gestures to a series of tubes and a larger flask, “that’s where i separate the biodiesel from the glycerol. basically, the good stuff from the leftovers.”

you narrow your eyes at the apparatus. “this still sounds like you’re making moonshine.”

jungkook snorts, shaking his head. “i’m not making moonshine.”

“sure,” you mutter, your lips curving into a teasing smile. “that’s what someone making moonshine would say.”

he rolls his eyes, but the faint smile pulling at his lips betrays him. 

“you’re really annoying today.”

“you like me, though,” you shoot back, leaning against the table with newfound confidence.

jungkook pauses, his gaze lingering on you for just a moment too long. his lips part, and you catch a flicker of something in his expression—something softer, almost vulnerable.

“yeah,” he says quietly, almost under his breath, before turning back to his work. “i guess i do.”

as you lean over a neighboring table to inspect a beaker filled with an ominous-looking solution, your elbow bumps against it, sending it teetering dangerously close to the edge. the moment stretches out, everything moving in slow motion.

his words catch you off guard.

what did he just say?

holy—

“shit!” you yelp, reaching out instinctively to steady it. but before you can, the beaker tips over completely, the sulfuric acid inside spilling onto the floor—and dangerously close to your feet.

jungkook moves faster than you expect, his hand darting out to grab your arm as he yanks you backward with enough force to make you stumble into his chest. the acid splashes onto his hand as it hits the ground, and the sharp crack of shattering glass fills the room.

he flinches, a quiet hiss slipping through his teeth as he pulls his hand back.

“oh my god, jungkook!” you gasp, panic knotting your stomach. his hand lingers briefly on your arm before he steps away, already moving toward the nearest sink.

“stay there,” he orders, his voice clipped but steady, as he flips on the cold water and thrusts his hand under the stream.

your eyes are locked on his injured hand, where faint discoloration is already starting to show.

“are you okay? does it hurt?” you ask, your voice shaky.

“it’s fine,” he says tightly, jaw clenched as the water rushes over his skin. “are you okay? nothing got on you, right?”

you take a step closer, your gaze flicking between his face and his hand. he looks calm—too calm—but the way his lips press into a thin line tells you otherwise.

“no. nothing got on me… jungkook,” you say softly, guilt and worry twisting in your chest. “i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean to—”

“don’t,” he cuts you off, shaking his head as he grabs a paper towel to dry his hand. his voice isn’t harsh, but there’s an edge to it, like he’s holding something back. “this is why i don’t give tours.”

you wince, the weight of his words making you shrink slightly. “i—i’ll make it up to you,” you blurt, your voice desperate to fix this. “whatever you want.”

he glances at you then, finally letting out a soft, exasperated laugh. his expression softens, the corners of his lips twitching into a faint smirk. 

“you’re giving me that much power?”

“jungkook,” you warn, narrowing your eyes, but your voice wavers. you’re still too focused on his hand, your own tightening into fists at your sides. “this is serious. do you want to go to nurse or hospital or something—”

“relax baby,” he says, his tone lighter now as he flexes his fingers experimentally. “it’s not that bad. really. it was just sulfuric acid.”

“acid—”

“stop,” jungkook sighs. “seriously. it’s okay.”

“you shouldn’t have done that though,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. 

he shakes his head, smiling faintly—half amused, half surprised by your concern. 

“what, and let you burn yourself instead?”

a beat.

"i'm dating a klutz," he chuckles, the words slipping out so naturally it takes you both a second to realize what he’s just said. his eyes widen slightly, but instead of backpedaling, "guess i should get used to you fucking my shit up, right?"

your chest tightens.

dating?

jungkook clears his throat. 

“don't over think it," jungkook grumbles.

"jungkook—"

he doesn’t let you finish, his jaw tightening.

“___, what are you doing here if you don’t think we’re dating?”

“what does that even mean?” you fire back, crossing your arms defensively. “you can’t just say shit like that and expect me not to overthink it.”

“then maybe don’t think so much,” he mutters under his breath. "you're good at that anyway."

“don’t think?!” you huff incredulously, stepping closer. “jungkook, you’re impossible.”

he glares at you, setting down the equipment with a loud clink. “and you’re confusing. ___, you’re acting like—”

“acting like what?”

“like you don’t want this.”

the tension doesn’t ease as you both leave the lab. 

he grabs his bag, muttering something about not wanting to talk here, and before you can argue, he’s already halfway down the corridor. you jog to keep up with his long strides, half-annoyed, half-confused, as he leads you across campus.

the walk is silent, save for the occasional rustle of leaves or the faint chatter of students in the distance. his jaw is tight, his shoulders stiff, and you can tell he’s barely holding himself together.

“jungkook...” you try, your voice softer this time, but he doesn’t respond, doesn’t even glance back.

by the time you reach his place, your confusion has morphed into frustration. 

he unlocks the door without a word, stepping inside and leaving it open for you to follow.

you hesitate for a moment, then step in, the familiar scent of his space wrapping around you. before you can say anything, he drops his bag on the floor and turns to you, his expression unreadable.

“sit,” he orders, pointing to his bed.

your brows knit together.

“i’m not a dog,” you snap, but the weight in his tone makes you obey anyway. you sit at the edge of his bed, crossing your arms and glaring up at him.

he exhales sharply, running a hand through his already messy hair. his pacing starts then, a restless back-and-forth motion across the small room. the air feels heavy, thick with unspoken words and the lingering tension from earlier.

“okay,” he starts, his voice low and strained. “let’s just… get this out in the open.”

you raise a brow, waiting for him to elaborate, but he doesn’t. instead, he keeps pacing, his hand dragging down his face as if he’s trying to physically pull the words out of himself.

“get what out in the open?” you prod, your frustration bubbling to the surface. “jungkook, what’s your deal? one second you’re fine, and the next—”

“fine?” he cuts you off, his tone sharper now. he stops pacing to face you, his hands planted on his hips. “you think i’m fine?”

you blink, taken aback.

“well, no, obviously not. but you’re also not making any sense—”

“you want to talk about making sense?” he scoffs, a bitter laugh escaping him. “you’re the one who’s impossible, you know that? one minute you’re here, acting like we’re—like this is something, and the next you’re…”

“the next i’m what?” you challenge, standing now. “go ahead, say it.”

jungkook looks at your sternly. then, he gives you his heart.

“i can’t keep doing this, ___. i need to know—are you in or are you out? because i get the whole wanting to make me miserable part. i get it. i’ve been awful to you. i’ve put words in your mouth and i’ve said shit that i can’t take back… but i’m trying. it feels like you aren’t.”

the weight of his words crashes over you, leaving you rooted in place. you want to respond, to say something, but the lump in your throat won’t budge.

he steps closer, his eyes searching yours.

“just… tell me what you want. because if you don’t want me, i need to know now.”

the silence stretches between you, thick and suffocating. you feel his gaze burning into you, his desperation palpable.

“i don’t know how to have you,” you say, your voice breaking slightly.

his shoulders drop, and for the first time since this started, he looks less angry and more… hurt.

“what do you mean?” he asks, his tone gentler now.

“i don’t know,” you breathe. “i’ve never… gone this far. guys give up after the chase… you’re… you’re still here. what happens now? sex?”

he shrugs. "is that all you want?"

"no."

"then no."

silence.

“___, i'm here. i've come this far and i want to go further. sex or not—whatever,” he says, taking another step closer, his hand reaching out to lightly brush against your arm. “is that what scares you?”

you nod.

“am i… am i supposed to just—” your chest tightens, and the room feels too small, too charged. his words hang in the air, and you know there’s no going back after this. “i don’t know—”

“why are you here, ___?”

“you asked me that already.” you retort.

“yeah, and you didn’t answer,” he shoots back.

you sigh, exasperated. “i’m here because—i don’t know… you’re my friend, okay? or whatever.”

his laugh is sharp and humorless. “friend. right.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

“it means i don’t want to be your friend,” he says plainly, his eyes burning into yours. “i haven’t wanted that for a while now.”

your breath catches. “jungkook—”

he steps closer, and for a moment, you think he might kiss you. but he stops just short, his voice low and rough. 

“i want you to stop pretending like there’s nothing here. i want you to stop running every time i get close.”

you open your mouth to argue, but the words catch in your throat.

“again, if you don’t want this—me—then tell me,” he continues, his voice softening. “but don’t keep showing up, acting like i don’t drive you as crazy as you drive me. don’t… please, don’t make me feel stupid.”

the room feels too small, the air too thick.

jungkook’s hand lingers on your arm, his touch grounding even as your heart races wildly. his dark eyes search yours, flickering with emotions you can’t fully decipher—hurt, hope, frustration.

“you don’t have to know everything right now,” he says softly, his voice carrying a steadiness that contrasts with the storm raging between you. “i’m not asking for perfect, ___. i’m not even asking for easy. i just…” he exhales shakily, the vulnerability in his tone cutting through your defenses. “i just need to know you’re willing to try.”

your throat tightens, his words hitting you in a place you’ve tried so hard to ignore. the thought of trying—of letting yourself fall completely, with no safety net—terrifies you. but the thought of him walking away? it’s unbearable.

“i want you,” you whisper, the fear laced in your voice so raw it feels like you’ve just exposed every guarded corner of yourself. “i want you, jungkook.”

his fingers trail down your arm, stopping just above your wrist. 

“say it again,” he says, his tone almost exasperated, but not unkind. “please?”

you bite your lip, the weight of his words pressing down on you. everything about this moment feels pivotal, like a single word could either shatter or rebuild everything between you.

“i want you, jungkook,” you admit, your voice trembling but resolute. “i… i want us.”

his expression softens, relief washing over his features like a tidal wave.

“good,” he murmurs, stepping closer, so close that his scent—clean, familiar, entirely jungkook—invades your senses. then, his hands come up, gently cradling your face as he tilts your chin up to meet his gaze.

“i… i want us too. i think it’s all i ever really wanted. to be yours…”

his thumbs stroke your cheeks, and before you can overthink it, he leans in, pressing his forehead against yours. the tension in the room shifts, softening but no less charged.

“does this mean i get to take hello kitty home today?” you whisper, your voice barely audible. 

“is that all you really care about?” he says, a small, lopsided smile tugging at his lips. 

“i care about other things.”

“like what?”

“like you.”

and then he kisses you.

you and jungkook have been dating for 6 months when you suddenly say; "happy 6 months, baby! wanna have sex?"

jungkook practically jolts out of his bed and takes the plushie. he places it on his desk and turns hello kitty over to face the wall. (no, you haven't taken it home. for some reason, it suits being in jungkook's room more than yours).

you laugh as he turns back to you and says;

"good timing, ___. i'm ovulating."

jungkook can't breathe.

… and you? you never expected it to feel this way. 

the thrill of it… the intensity—the intimacy. 

as jungkook towers over you, he pulls his shirt over his head. the minute his chest is bare, your hands find your way to roam around his body. his abs, his biceps, and down his—

“wait,” jungkook pleads, eyes hungrily looking into yours. “wanna take this slow with you. wanna do it right for you.”

you nod slowly, understanding what he means. 

the truth is; your virginity is your virginity.

there isn’t much to it aside from that the fact that it’s not taken. you were never wronged but you were also never pursued right… sure, it’s special… but it isn’t everything. 

jungkook treats it like it is though. 

you don’t mind. 

for the past 6 months, he's been really careful with how he acts around you sexually. sure, a few pussy eating moments and heated make outs have been happening... but not the full thing. actually, you've never really seen jungkook's dick yet.

he refuses to let you give him a blowjob.

said something about how easy it is for him to cum at the thought of you—he isn't ready to embarrass himself in front of you just yet.

but today, at your 6 month mark, it's different.

jungkook can't hold it in anymore and you showed up extra pretty. you planned this, didn't you?

(yes.)

gently, he helps you undress.

he takes your shirt off for you and takes a deep breath when you arch your back for him to unclasp your bra. nervously, he does so. then, he tosses your bra aside and takes in the view. 

the prettiest fucking tits he’s ever seen. 

jungkook reaches, cupping and squeezing your boobs. you watch him as he does so, unsure of what to do. 

he then lowers himself, placing kisses over your tits and down your stomach. positioning himself more comfortably, he finds himself in between your legs. lifting them up, he takes your pants off… then, his eyes flicker from you to your panties. 

his fingers play with the hem of your panties. then, he scrunches them together, tugging them up so your folds are exposed. 

“fuck,” jungkook groans. “so pretty…”

“yeah?” 

“yeah,” he breathes, watching your pussy begin to swell. “think your kitty can be good for me? think you can be patient? that’s it… good kitty.”

you tilt your chin down to look at him. 

he’s licking his lips, lowering himself down to your pussy. 

“be a good kitty, okay?” he says, as he begins to massage your pussy with his hands. your panties are still on so the friction of the fabric make you a little annoyed. 

aren’t you having sex soon?

shoudn’t this shit be off be now?

“jungkook—”

“i know, baby,” jungkook pouts at you. “i know it’s hard to wait… look at your pussy… so wet and your panties aren’t even off.”

“i get more wet than this?”

“if i play my cards right, yeah.”

you whimper. “please, jungkook… just.. take them off.”

“you want me to?”

“yes,” you huff. “want you to take my panties off.”

he nods slowly… as if he’s thinking about something—considering something.

then, he decides to give in. 

jungkook tugs your panties down entirely, leaving your pussy out in the open. he throws his head back in admiration. it’s like he’s been hit by cupid or something.

without warning, he buries his face inside. 

jungkook begins with a couple licks and spreading your folds a part. his tongue brushes against your clit—up, down, side to side—everywhere. god, you feel him everywhere. after a few licking and sucking moments, he pulls away and rubs his thumb against your clit. he spits on your pussy—letting his saliva drool down slowly. 

you watch. 

“you like that, baby? you like when i spit in your pussy?”

tongue-tied, you nod obediently. 

he grins before giving in again. 

jungkook eats you up, devouring every inch of your pussy. before you know it, he’s shoving a finger inside you as he sucks on your clit. you almost yelp at the sensation—a feeling completely new to you. 

“ohhh… yeah… f-feels so good, jungkook…” you moan, throwing your head back. 

honestly, the added finger burns. 

but he’s gentle with it. he moves his finger inside you with lots of intentions. he gradually shoves it in deeper and deeper too.. it just… it feels good. 

so good. 

you throw your head back and grab a fist full of his hair. 

“uh, uhhhh… mhmfffph—” you moan. “ohhh…. f-fuck…”

jungkook looks up and watches the way your lips twitch. how your body reacts to him eating you out… and it all just boosts his ego. 

he’s so glad to be here. 

jungkook then pulls away, taking his tongue out of the equation. he focuses on fingering you, making sure you’re enjoying the way it feels. you two catch each others gaze and continue to look into each others eyes. 

as jungkook picks up the pace fingering you, you bite your lip and love the way his eyebrows furrow in concentration. 

“f-fuck,” you utter. “i’m gonna—o-ohhh!”

you cum on his fingers. 

jungkook pulls them out, taking your cum and spreading it around your folds. he massages it in like lube before taking his fingers to his mouth. 

he tastes you. 

then, before you can catch your breath, jungkook leans down and kisses you. 

he kisses you deeply. 

when he pulls away, you ask; “c-can we…”

jungkook chuckles. 

“soon,” he assures you, tucking your hair behind your ear. he presses his lips against your cheek. 

then, his lips find yours with a hesitance that feels almost reverent, like he’s afraid to ruin something sacred. and then, slowly, he deepens the kiss—tentative at first, but with a growing confidence that feels utterly jungkook.

it’s the kind of kiss that feels like discovery. like he’s studying every angle, every curve, every reaction, cataloging them in his mind like a scholar with his favorite subject. his hands hold you as if you’re delicate but unshakable all at once, his thumbs brushing tenderly against your jawline.

when he tilts his head, changing the angle, it’s with a deliberate slowness, as though he’s savoring the moment, pulling apart the layers of this kiss to commit it to memory. you can feel the way his lips curve faintly against yours, like he’s smiling, like he’s finding joy in every second of this new experiment.

and you realize—he’s not just kissing you. 

he’s learning you.

nerd.

you gasp when he pulls you closer, your arms instinctively wrapping around his body. his lips part slightly, and the way he kisses you now feels like a question, like he’s asking for something without saying a word.

he’s meticulous, like he wants to explore every inch of you through this kiss, leaving no detail untouched. the way he holds you is tender but firm, grounding you while setting your pulse on fire.

when he finally pulls back, his breathing is uneven, his forehead pressing lightly against yours. his eyes flutter open, and they’re soft, full of something you can’t quite name but feel all the same.

“i want you forever,” he murmurs, his voice low and thick with awe, as though he’s just unraveled the world’s most beautiful equation. 

you giggle at him. “great. can we start now?”

“way to kill the mood—”

“please, for the love of god!” you squirm. “fuck me already.”

jungkook can’t help but laugh. 

but he gives in. 

jungkook shifts out of his pants, revealing his hard cock. 

you stare at it.

it's pretty.

it's thick all around and his tip looks like it's angry. you like the way it looks though... looks delicious. his cock has you completely mesmerized. you almost want to crawl to it but he saves you the journey as he brings it close to you. 

truth be told, jungkook's a little nervous.. he doesn't want to fuck this up.

“you know…” he begins, as he jerks himself off in front of you. “i want to be mean. like, really fucking mean. i want to make you beg. i want to make you choke on my fucking cock and have you scream my name but—fuck, ___… i look at you and i can’t…. i can’t even do all i want with our fucking foreplay because i fold so easily when it comes to you. you want me to fuck you? fine. i’ll fuck you.”

“be mean,” you whimper. “come on. don’t be a pussy. just because this is my first time—f-fuck! holy shit, jungkook—”

jungkook has slowly puts his cock inside you. 

you gasp for air. 

he caresses your face as you adjust to him being inside you. then, he drags his tongue around your neck. he sucks on it a bit, causing you to grip the sheets.

“o-oh my… j-jungkook…”

“you okay, baby?” he asks, slightly moving himself in deeper. 

you take a deep breath and exhale from your mouth. “f-fuck…”

he’s so big. 

you can feel every curve of his dick and vein. when his tip entered, it felt funny. like, uncomfortable but also really fucking good. as he begins to thrust in and out, you breathe through the sharpness of his movement. 

“hurts…” you confess. 

jungkook shifts, and kisses your neck. against your skin, he murmurs; “i’m sorry, baby… do you want me to—”

“no,” you tell him, as you open your legs wider. you wrap yourself around him and hold on tight. “think… think i’m okay. can you move more?”

jungkook nods and kisses you once more. 

he begins to fuck you.

slowly but surely… he begins to drill himself into you. 

missionary isn’t his favourite but having you this way… especially for your first time? god, did he love this. as you dig your nails into his back, you whimper every time he thrusts back inside you. 

“f-fuck,” you moan. “jungkook… it’s…”

“what?” he almost panics. “a-are you okay?”

“yeah,” you breathe. “it feels good now… can you… go harder?”

jungkook hisses, feeling like he could lose his mind. 

“can we switch position?” he pitches.

you agree.

jungkook then pulls out of you, and you suddenly feel the emptiness. he goes on his knees and takes you by your waist, guiding you to turn over and go on all fours. 

doggy. 

jungkook helps you position yourself before angling himself. he licks his hand and spreads your entrance. he then guides his dick inside you. as he begins to thrust, you suddenly feel him reach around and start to rub your clit…

and oh my god. 

does it feel heavenly. 

“oh,” you hum. “feels so good.”

jungkook leans over, and kisses your shoulder. as he pulls away, he takes his other hand and grabs a fistfull of your hair. he pulls your hair back and you moan at the tightness. 

“you like that, my little bitch?” he grunts as he fucks you. 

he feels your pussy clench. then, he smriks. 

“oh? you like being called a little bitch, huh?” jungkook then takes his hand off your clit and uses it to slap your ass. "my fucking cockslut. always so fucking horny but you're just a little dirty minded virgin, right? not anymore, okay? i'm taking it. taking all your sticky fucking cum. you're all mine, baby. you know that, right? you're mine, bitch."

smack. 

your pussy tightens around his cock again. 

smack. 

you moan his name. 

“jungkook…”

he inshales shaprly and moves both hands and grabs your waist. he pulls you into him with each trust, adding more intensity. 

jungkook fucks you harder and harder and you can’t help but love the way it feels. you moan his name, whimpering pleads like; “please… please, fuck me harder.” you can’t help it… it’s the way that his hard cock feels inside you that make you say shit like that. it’s the way that his hands roam around your body and you feel him everywhere… because he is everywhere. 

his mind goes dizzy. 

he goes blank actually. 

then, when you reach back and wrap your arms around the back of your thighs—jungkook feels like he might lose it. 

how do you know how to move like that?

god, you’re so hot. 

“mhmm. that’s it…. fucking me so good, nerd.”

then, jungkook loses it. 

like… really. 

he fucks you harder and harder until you’re whimpering his name and almost near tears. he doesn’t realize how hard he’s fucking you until you’re near climax—

“i’m cumming!” you cry. “baby, i’m gonna—ahh, a-ahhh! fuck..”

it happens so fast. 

suddenly, you cum and you lose your balance. 

jungkook helps you lay down properly. he gets on top, continuing to fuck you in missionary. he fucks you through your orgasm. as you catch your breath, you feel him hiss against your skin. 

“fuck.”

just then, jungkook pulls out. 

as he jerks himself off, you tug on his hand and pout at him. he tilts his head, a little confused but quickly catches on. 

“cum right on me?”

(i mean, camaraderie)

a few seconds later, jungkook straddles your face. 

he places his dick inside you mouth and you focus on licking the tip of his dick. you do it softly, not adding much pressure. it sends shivers down his spine… then, you use the topside of oyur tongue to add more stimulation. you dig your face deep, licking his balls a little. 

he moans. 

you suck him off—slow but so fucking intense. 

jungkook can’t take it.

he places one hand on the back of your head and helps control how deep you take him. 

his dick reaches the back of your throat and it’s fucking toe-curling for jungkook. you take him in so good. as you suck him off, he can’t help but not last long. 

“ahh–aahhhh.. f-fuck—” jungkook moans deeply. “nghhh.... fuck, ___! holy fucking shit...”

jungkook pulls out seconds later and cums all over your face.

as his cum drips down your face, you catch it with your finger and look at it. 

“ohh,” you pant. “that’s what cum looks like…”

jungkook rolls his eyes at you before dipping his head low and kissing you. you two laugh as you pull away, completely in disbelief of everything that had just happened.

1 month later...

“you’re such a bad boyfriend,” you say, crossing your arms dramatically as you sit on the couch, watching jungkook fiddle with the back of your laptop.

he pauses, turning his head slowly to look at you over his shoulder. his glasses are sliding down his nose, his hair is a bit messy from pushing it back so many times, and he looks entirely unimpressed.

“bad boyfriend?” he repeats, sounding genuinely offended. “you asked me to fix your laptop. i'm a chem major, not tech.”

“smart boyfriends are supposed to be well rounded."

he glares at you. "again. you asked me to fix your laptop. i'm doing my best, baby."

"yeah, but like... i asked you over an hour ago,” you tease, leaning back and pretending to sigh. “you’ve been ignoring me ever since.”

“ignoring you?” he scoffs, turning back to the tangled mess of wires. “i’m literally upgrading your RAM so you can stop complaining about how slow it is. if anything, i’m the best boyfriend.”

you hum thoughtfully, pretending to consider it. “debatable. the best boyfriend wouldn’t make me sit here in silence while he nerds out over motherboards or whatever.”

“okay, first of all,” he says, setting the screwdriver down and turning to you fully now, “it’s not ‘whatever.’ this is your motherboard’s lifeline. without it, you don’t get to binge your little dramas.”

“so you’re saying you’re not doing this for me—you’re doing it for the laptop?”

“i’m doing it so you don’t keep stealing my ipad to ‘watch just one more episode’ and kill my battery in two hours,” he fires back, but there’s a little smirk tugging at the corner of his lips now.

you tilt your head, grinning. “i think you just proved my point.”

“fine,” he says, pulling his glasses off and tossing them onto the table. “what do i have to do to reclaim my best boyfriend title, huh? flowers? chocolates? fixing this annoying laptop isn’t enough?”

“hmm,” you pretend to think. “i’d say… maybe you stop being a nerd for five minutes and come cuddle me instead.”

he rolls his eyes but moves toward you anyway, tugging you into his lap without hesitation.

“there,” he says, wrapping his arms around you as you snuggle into his chest. “am i forgiven, or do i need to sit in front of a claw machine and lose $200 again?”

“hmm,” you hum, grinning as you tap your chin. “hello kitty does look a little lonely. but maybe she deserves a friend when you really screw up.”

“you’re planning for that?” he asks, incredulous.

“not planning,” you tease, shrugging. “just preparing. i’ve already picked cinnamon roll for when you really drop the ball.”

he stares at you for a long moment, narrowing his eyes. “you know, this feels like extortion. i bet you mess with me on purpose just to stock up on plushies.”

“maybe,” you say sweetly, poking his cheek. “but you can’t prove it.”

he sighs, leaning his head back against the couch dramatically.

“great. i’m dating a scam artist.”

“you’re dating a genius,” you correct, grinning.

“genius or not,” he counters, tightening his hold on you, “you’re stuck with me.”

you tilt your head up to look at him, biting back a laugh at the slight pout on his lips.

“wow, jungkook, that’s so nerdy of you.”

he groans, letting his head fall against your shoulder.

“i’m never fixing your laptop again. let me know when you need help naming all the isomers of butanol—"

"baby, did you hear that?"

"hear what?"

"you put the dolphins to sleep. good job! yay, your marine conservation bullshit finally came in handy—"

"wanna break up?"

"meanie."

"you're mean."

"sure, let's break up," you tell him. "how about never?"

"never?" jungkook asks, tucking your hair behind your ears. "sounds good."

you glance at him, a playful smirk tugging at your lips.

"it's you, me, and the fucking dolphins forever, nerd."

[awrkive]

THE LOVE PROGNOSIS, fin. — JJK (m.)

for as long as you can remember, you’ve always been a hopeless romantic.

the girl who’s always dreamt of cheesy encounters with her soulmate, grand love declarations, and a cute little beach wedding to boot. but reality pretty much slaps you hard right on the face, because love, unfortunately, doesn’t come grand — it’s simple and it’s quiet, but it is quite painful, especially when the love that you’ve been seeking for all your adult life has just been right under your nose all this time.

PAIRING jungkook x female reader // mingyu x female reader

GENRE r18+ (angst, fluff, smut) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

CHAPTER WORD COUNT 43.2k idcccccc atp😭 take ur time!

CHAPTER WARNINGS/MISC medical!au, roommates!au, surgeon!jk, surgeon!reader (they are both 4th year residents and are co-workers), corporate lawyer!mingyu, oc and jk are bffs since med school but their love language is fighting each other <3, jk and mingyu are bffs during undergrad, hopeless romantic!oc. dont read further warnings if u dont wanna be spoiled: ANGST. im aware i kinda overkilled it here but uh.. hear me out! explicit sexual content [ male mast*rbation, oral s*x (f&m receiving), making out, dry h*mping, penetr*tive s*x (protected and unprotected, missionary, cowgirl, doggy, spooning), a bit of c*mplay, jk <3 boobs, ily kink (redacted) cries during sex lol ]. FLUFFy fluff fluffff 😖 some of the scenes give very much like 2000s romcom vibes but idc sue me also theres a #merder reference ifykyk

NOTES we have finally reached the end! sorry it took me a month to get this out sjdfhd but its here and its long as fuck n im so proud of this and happy that i finished a series!! for once!!! will always love my silly tlp couple and the characters 🥹 let me know ur thoughts on my inbox oki and circulate by liking and reblogging if u enjoyed reading hihi ty ok bye enjoy reading!🫵🏼🫵🏼 [ important: pls make sure to read the note below ]

[ SERIES MASTERLIST ] // [ MAIN MASTERLIST ]

A day passed since the fiasco at the villa happened and Jungkook and you have acted like total strangers since then. The rest of your friends easily took notice of it; the silence between you two on the ride to the airport, the not-so discreet way you avoided each other at the waiting area, even going as far as exchanging seats inside the plane when on any other day, you two didn’t mind being close together physically. 

Jungkook knows absolutely that the avoidance is doing you both a disservice. You’re both grown adults and going to extreme lengths to ignore each other – like not even looking at the other when you bump in the hospital hallways – is a one-way ticket to your relationship’s foundations crumbling. 

That thought terrified Jungkook so much that he decided to come clean tonight. Talk to you properly when his mind is cleared and there was no Mingyu to aggravate his thoughts and project actions he’s not necessarily proud of – because the fight was juvenile, he knows that. Him committing and giving in to violence is not something he wants you to see, no matter the context. You were right when you said that was not him, and Jungkook can’t have you thinking otherwise.

When he steps in front of your apartment door, he thinks if you’re already there. He isn’t entirely sure. You two haven’t seen each other at the hospital and you haven’t been texting him either.  You might still be doing your rounds, he thought, but when he opens the door to your unit and trudges his feet to the living room, he catches a sight of you going out from your bedroom.

The two of you freeze upon seeing each other, but Jungkook’s surprise soon turns into confusion when he notices the carry-on luggage in your hand.

“Oh, you’re here,” You utter, filling the silence in the air. “I was just going.” 

“Where?” Jungkook instantly asks, taking you both by surprise. 

But you quickly recover. You give him a small smile – but what Jungkook clearly sees is a wince.  

“I’m going over to my sister’s,” You must’ve seen the way Jungkook’s boring holes at your pink luggage, and so you take a glance at it momentarily, tugging on the handle to scoot it over closer to your side. You clear your throat. “I’m staying there for a while.” 

Jungkook feels a certain weight drop on his shoulders, his lips parting at your declaration. 

“__, i-if this is about what I said, you don’t have to leave—”

You cut him off quickly. “No. It’s not that. I just… I just need some time away.”

Even though he doesn’t like the implication, he gets you.

Blinking, he thinks what to say next. Jungkook doesn’t want to say the wrong words – he’s well aware of the fact that he's put his foot in his mouth back at the resort, and he’s not fucking up the second time around. 

While he intended to talk to you tonight to address the elephant between you two, he also understands completely why you need time for yourself. It was too much. He told you a lot of things and he can’t expect you to process all of them in a single day.  

So, he nods, still stricken, heart heavy when he looks at you again. “Okay.” 

“Okay.” You repeat, voice a little louder than him. A pregnant pause, and you’re pulling up the handle of your luggage again, the wheels gliding on the floorboards as you begin to head towards the door to your apartment.

Jungkook doesn’t mean to sound so alarmed when he suddenly blurts out, “Now?” 

He doesn’t even know why. It was the obvious. You’ve packed your things – you’re heading out. But he couldn’t stop himself. It’s like there’s a sense of fear clouding his mind the more this moment of you leaving stretches out further.

You stop on your tracks, blinking at him. “Y-yeah?” 

“Oh.” Jungkook feels his hand itching to do something. Something stupid like grab your wrist gently to make you stay. 

But he knows that’s futile. He doesn’t have the right to make you stay if you don’t want to in the first place. 

“Seokjin’s actually coming in a few minutes,” you tell him, glancing at your phone. “My sister’s still at work, so she made him pick me up.” 

Jungkook can only give you a nod.

It makes sense for your brother-in-law to come pick you up. It also makes sense for you to stay over their place considering that their apartment isn’t that far from the hospital and you won’t have a hard time commuting to work if you planned to stay there for a little while. 

He wonders, though, why you aren’t staying at Doyeon’s instead… he doesn’t know if you’ve talked already, but from what it seems, you aren’t talking to the rest of your friends, either; judging by the way he hasn’t seen you together with any of them at the hospital. Taehyung had suggested that maybe you just need time, to which Doyeon and Nayeon agreed to. Jungkook can’t help but feel bad, though. You’re seemingly coming out isolated at the end of his own doing. If you’re avoiding your friends just because of him, that would be extremely unfair to you. Taehyung, Doyeon and Nayeon are just as much as your friends as they are his, and during these times, you should feel comfortable taking solace in their friendship like how he’s leaning on them currently.

Guilt washes over him at the thought. He can’t bear thinking about you hurting in the process of all of this. He just wants so badly to make it up to you, for you both to be okay again. You didn’t even have to acknowledge what he said – about him being in love with you. You could totally ignore it and act like it never happened, go on about your days like nothing changed as long as you’re by his side.

It hurts. It hurts that even when you’re just physically within his reach right now, he can’t seem to get a hold of you. And he has no one to blame but himself. 

A phone rings and Jungkook watches as you fish out your device from your pockets. 

“Must be Jin.” you say, picking up the call. You exchange a few words with your brother-in-law for a few seconds before hanging up and looking at him again. “He’s outside already.” 

Jungkook nods, biting back the words that consist of something stupid like “don’t leave”. 

“Your car…?” He hesitates, remembering how you’d drive to work. 

“It broke again yesterday. I’m actually… uh… thinking of just selling it. Get it over with.”

Your car. You mentioned your parents have turned it over to you during your junior year in college. It always broke in the most inconvenient times – like the one time you had a bad date, and you panicked-texted him about the car towing company not picking up. It was a Sunday and Jungkook was supposed to go over some paper works, but he scrambled out of his room to get you – and he didn’t regret it one bit because you were actually crying the moment he arrived. You had been overstimulated, what with another failed date and your broken car – it was all too much. And you just needed Jungkook to be there. You told him so. 

Jungkook cherishes those moments a lot. Not because you cried in them – he always felt like it was a punch to the gut whenever he sees you even an ounce of upset – but because it tells him that you trust him with that vulnerable side of you. It means he’s important enough to you to let him in your life. It’s one of those moments where Jungkook truly steps back to reevaluate your relationship – because sure, it could be merely friendship to anybody, but Jungkook doesn’t really think so. Your bond runs deeper than friendship, and he doesn’t even mean romantic. It’s the… camaraderie. The partnership.

He could’ve confessed a long time ago – that’s what people kept saying, but what they don’t know is that he has so much to lose. You are more than just the woman he would love to kiss and make love to or call his girlfriend – you’re the love of his life, you’re everything to him. And if he can’t have you in any way, he’d truly break. 

And now that everything’s said and done – with him finally baring his truth to you – it’s come to this.

You, leaving.

The silence that follows pricks Jungkook’s skin like needles, and the creak of your steps on the floorboards ring in his ears – a daunting harsh whisper of your farewell – although it’s just temporary. 

But something worries him. 

What if it’s not temporary? What if during your stay at your sister’s place, you decide to completely get rid of his company for the good and better? 

It’s all those frantic thoughts that urges him to call your name, but he doesn’t expect your voice overlapping with his as you say his name at the same time. 

Jungkook’s lips curl up slightly. “What is it?” 

Predictably, you wave your hand at him. “No, you first.”

“It’s okay.” 

Your hand hovers over the handle of your suitcase as you pass by him, stopping on the threshold of your apartment. “I just…” you trail off. You look at Jungkook for a moment. “I just wanted to say bye. And uh… that… I drank all your banana milk in the fridge. But I’ll wire you the money later. Or buy you another batch and I’ll give it to you at the hospital or—”

Jungkook cuts you off by calling out your name, broken by a laugh of amusement. His first smile today, maybe. You look at him wide-eyed. It’s fascinating the way you have him completely wrapped around your finger and you’re not even doing anything.

“It’s fine. You don’t need to wire me anything.” 

“Oh... well, I’m still sorry.” He nods, giving you a small smile. “What was it you wanted to tell me, then?” 

Right now, he forgets what it was even all about. “Just, uh, please tell your sister and Seokjin hyung I said hi.”  

Jungkook doesn’t want to delude himself into thinking that your face flashed a look of disappointment for the briefest moment after he said the words. At the back of his mind, he thinks you were expecting more – but he knows he’s reaching, grasping for straws, and he’s just desperate for anything from you he can’t really rationalize his line of thinking. 

So with a final wave of your hand – a bit timid – you turn around and open the door to your unit, and Jungkook watches as your form disappears completely, leaving him stoned in his position in the middle of the living room for a long time; head empty, body numb, until he gathers time to collect himself and finally move over to the bathroom, where he takes a cold shower in hopes for an improved mood.

It didn’t really do anything, and he found himself having a hard time sleeping – waking up randomly during the wee hours of the morning.

When he stirs awake from his blaring alarm at 5:30, he’s nothing but adrift.

It feels weird when he goes to the kitchen and he doesn’t see you, as he expects you to be there in whatever worn up shirt from high school you still have, making toast or some quick breakfast – with your playlist playing from your phone – but you weren’t. 

And Jungkook remembers that would be the case for another few days to come. Something he has to be okay with.

For the meantime.

He hopes.   

Jungkook doesn’t get drunk often, but now, his friends are assuming he is. For the record, though, he is not drunk and they are just exaggerating. Sure, he’s staggering and he’s mixing up his syllables and grammar – but he swears he just feels a little woozy.

“Jungkook,” Doyeon calls him, laughing a bit. “Come on, Taehyung’s driving you home.” 

“Don’t want to,” He says as he takes another swig of his fifth canned beer he’s been consuming since they all arrived at the barbecue place. “I can handle my alcohol.”

Which — fair. That’s not new news. But still—

“No shit, you have a shift tomorrow at eleven in the morning. Don’t be stubborn. It’s time to go home.” 

“It’s fine, I’ll Uber back.” 

Jungkook watches as Doyeon rolls her eyes. 

“Are you really moping right now?” 

He sends her a glare – one that she predictably does not take seriously. “‘M not moping. You’re moping.” 

“And I’m Kate Bush. Taehyung, can you just drag Jungkook out of here? I think he’s gonna cry any minute now and the auntie is closing. We gotta go.” Nayeon butts in, and even though her words may seem harsh around the edges, she looks at Jungkook with a concerned gaze. The playful atmosphere from earlier now dissipating.

Jungkook appreciates the warmth that he gets from Nayeon’s gentle approach to everything – but right now, all it does is make him feel pitiful. Doyeon’s right. He is moping. Moping for something that should’ve been within his control in the first place.

“Man, you know you bench way more than me. I can’t carry you out all by myself if you’re all drunk and shit.” Taehyung nudges him on the shoulder, enough to make Jungkook move from his seat. He only grumbles.

Doyeon sighs. “What do you want, Jungkook? Call __? Tell her you’re getting wasted and come pick you up?” 

Jungkook visibly flinches at the mention of you.

Ever since they arrived at the restaurant, Jungkook has noticed that his friends have been deliberately omitting your name in the conversation – until now, anyway. He thinks they all planned this spontaneous hang to “cheer him up” or whatever the fuck Taehyung said on their way here – which seemed like a slip-up, because Doyeon had hit the back of his head lightly right after saying it. 

They’re walking on eggshells around him like he’s some kind of house of cards – one nudge and a blow and he comes crumbling down.

Jungkook hates getting doted on like this. It’s not like you two broke up. They just knew that you went to stay at your sister’s place for a while and you never said when you’re coming back. He hasn’t had any encounters with you at the hospital nowadays – you’re getting good at hiding from him and the rest of the gang, and every single day bleeds into countless sleepless nights. You’ve been gone for five days; no calls, or at least a text. And it seems like you deactivated your IG. You aren’t tweeting or reblogging shit on Twitter as well. You’ve gone completely silent – and with every waking moment that Jungkook spends a day without your presence, it feels like you’re slowly slipping through his fingers.

“No.” he glares at the three of them. Standing up, he feels his vision dancing at the sudden action.

Well. Maybe he is sort of drunk. A little. 

“Hey, man, let’s go.” Taehyung ushers once again. This time, Jungkook acquiesces but with a groan. Nonetheless, he lets Taehyung wrap his arm around him to prevent him from tripping on his own feet.

When Jungkook manages to stand firm on the ground, he shuts his eyes tight to get a hold of himself and once again look at Doyeon and Nayeon who are still sitting by the table. With a confused expression, he asks, “Thought we’re all going?” 

“Minhyuk will pick me up.” Nayeon says. Jungkook nods, directing his gaze to Doyeon.

“Somebody’s picking me up, too,” When Jungkook squints his eyes at her, she rolls her eyes. “Don’t start. Tae, drive safely, okay? You didn’t drink, right?” 

Taehyung shakes his head and gives both women a reassuring nod before they head out of the building when goodbyes were bid, with Taehyung still pressing a hand on Jungkook’s back because he’s still a bit unstable on his feet. It’s not bad, though, Jungkook doesn’t think so. He just feels dizzy and shit, but it’s not anything water can’t solve.

Fuck, now he wants to get in bed as soon as possible. After a cold shower. 

“Sorry, man.” he says as he plops down on the passenger’s seat, buckling the seatbelt around himself. 

Taehyung comfortably settles on the driver’s seat, adjusting the rearview mirror a bit before starting the engine. But not after he responded to Jungkook with a snort, “It’s fine.” 

It’s a quiet car ride and Jungkook can already feel his eyelids threatening to fall, the haze of sleep already clouding his mind. He can’t recall how far it takes from the restaurant to his complex, but soon enough, Taehyung’s voice wakes him up from his stupor. 

“You okay there?” 

Jungkook hums, leaning back to relax his nerves. A minute flies and he sighs loudly, making Taehyung look at him momentarily.

“Don’t sleep on me. Again, I am not willing to carry you all the way to your apartment, fucker.”

That makes Jungkook laugh, a snicker escaping past his lips. It makes Taehyung do the same, scoffing at his friend as he did so. The car ride continues into a stretched-out comfortable silence before Taehyung breaks it with a question of, “You two still haven’t talked?” 

Jungkook stiffens at the mention, and he knows his friend notices the way he did, but he quickly tries to shake it off. “Yeah. She’s still at her sister’s.” Taehyung nods. When Jungkook looks at him, he decides to ask, “What ‘bout you? She reached out yet?” 

“No.”

Jungkook inhales a sharp breath. 

This is bad. You’re ignoring all your friends because of him. 

“Sorry.” Jungkook says after a pregnant pause.

“What for?”

“Dunno. Feels like it’s all my fault,” a sigh escapes past his lips again. “You guys don’t deserve to get caught up in this.”

“Jungkook,” There’s a lilt to Taehyung’s voice that reminds Jungkook again that the man beside him is older than he is and sometimes, Taehyung can be way more mature, almost like an older brother. He forgets their age difference most of the time. “Don’t say that.  __ just needs her time. She’ll come around.”

The smile Jungkook gives his way is bitter but it’s a smile, nonetheless.

“I don’t know, Tae,” He leans his head back on the seat, staring at nothing in particular. “It’s different this time.”

“You’ve fought before,” Taehyung points out. “How is this different?” 

Jungkook does know what he’s trying to point out. He may be referring to the time in third year of med school when you didn’t talk to him for a month – but still. This, right now – whatever is happening – is far from what happened back then.

“Just different,” He shrugs, a poor attempt at nonchalance so Taehyung doesn’t think he’s being pathetic. “I feel like this is it.” Taehyung looks at him curiously when the red light turns on. It makes Jungkook squirm, but he voices out what he feels, anyway. “I’m losing her.”

That felt weird the moment it slips his tongue. For the past few days, it’s been in his head – making up the mess of his thoughts. When he said that, for once, it felt like finality. Like its verbalization actually made it real. 

He does feel like he’s losing you. And it feels like the absolute truth.

“You can’t say that when you haven’t even talked to her, Jungkook,” Taehyung says and he says it so firmly. When Jungkook studies the older guy’s face, it’s etched with sincerity, especially when he adds, “Do you really think she’ll let go of an almost decade-long relationship just because of what happened? Frankly speaking, even if she does not feel the same way about you at all, I know her enough to know that she’ll have at least the decency to let you down properly. I think she’s just trying to think all of this through. She’ll talk when her head’s clear.” 

Jungkook finds himself processing his words. You are exactly like that. You’re the type of person to need your personal space when you’re confronted by huge predicaments. When he thinks about it – you have so much on your plate. Mingyu, him, your relationship with each of them; Jungkook realizes things must be so hard for you right now, both emotionally and physically. And you’re dealing with all this while still showing up for your rotations.

“You’re right.” Jungkook whispers. 

“Just… time, okay? You both need time.” Taehyung says and for once, Jungkook smiles a genuine one. 

The light turns green, and Taehyung continues to drive. 

Taehyung decided to turn up his jazz playlist and it eased Jungkook’s mind a bit. But it did lull him to sleep all the way to his apartment complex. Thankfully though, it only took Taehyung a few seconds of nudging him before he stirred awake, disoriented when he opened his eyes only to hear his friend say they were already there, ushering him out of his car. 

He said his thanks to Taehyung, and his friend made sure to tell him to take it easy before he took off. When he was gone, Jungkook went straight to the elevator to press his floor, mind and body working on autopilot as he sauntered over the hallway to stop in front of his unit.

When the door opens, he feels a sense of calmness at the sight of his own place with everything at his disposal including the bathroom that he quickly head towards, not hesitating to strip himself naked on the way to the shower, letting his clothes form a heap on the threshold; bare and naked without a care in the world.

Stepping into the shower box, he turns the showerhead on, hissing at the cold water spraying onto his skin. He needed the cold to get rid of his sluggishness – and it works just as instantly as he’d hoped. 

Both of his hands shoot up to brush his hair off his forehead, and he stays in that position for awhile; with the water running on his body and his head leaned back a bit, eyes closed as he relaxes. 

He mindlessly reaches for his shampoo bottle, but when he opens the cap, he smells a completely different product. What welcomes him when he opens his eyes back again is the familiar sight of Bath and Body works bottle. Your water lily springs body wash.

Despite his current headspace, it brings a smile to Jungkook’s lips.

Right.

He’s noticed in the past few days that you left it in your shared bathroom. Considering all the things that you still have around the apartment, it didn’t really look like you packed a lot of things when you left – which should ease Jungkook’s mind. Still, though; the small size of your luggage and the quantity of what you brought with you do not matter when you still aren’t home. 

And with that, Jungkook feels himself slipping back into… mulling again. And he can’t help but heave out a sigh. 

He just… wants to rest for tonight. Just wants his head emptied out. Relax. He feels like he’s been on edge for the longest of time and he just needs some sort of – he’s not sure – comfort? Maybe something along the lines? 

And as if his hand has a mind on its own, he grips the bottle of your body wash and squirts an ample amount on his palm, the scent of water lily springs surrounding the confined space of the shower immediately. 

He lathers it all over his chest, inhaling the gentle waft and how it weirdly calms him from the inside. The room smells just like you. He smells just like you. And it isn’t the first time he’s doing this – he’s always liked the way you smelled, and he may have used your body wash by accident countless of times. Jungkook sometimes does it just to tease you – because you always point it out when you notice that he smells the same, and then you get all irritated and it makes Jungkook keen because you’re just so goddamn cute when you glare at him and when you get mean. Teasing you also means that you’d get mad enough to sulk at him, and that gives him the opportunity to make it up to you; and making it up to you means he gets all of your attention. 

It’s pathetic but Jungkook’s not ashamed to admit that – just to himself, though. He likes when you give him attention, can you blame him?

His mind goes back to the memory of you cuddling with him on the ground at that random playground near your complex, how you snuggled up to his arm, giggling and threatening him to stop using your body wash. He remembers all the times you would cook together on nights when you’re both free – lounging on the couch mindlessly, either watching a show and debating over useless, stupid stuff – or when you would force him to rub your foot or massage your neck. Jungkook doesn’t relent until after you complain for a good five minutes. He’s gotten better at pretending overtime that he doesn’t look forward to touching any part of you.

At that thought, he recalls the way your back felt on his hands when he rubbed sunscreen all over it when you were at the resort. How the plane of your gorgeous skin felt so smooth to the touch, how you make him feel even with just the slightest baring of your skin. 

Jungkook shuts his close when his mind goes into overdrive.

You. You. You and your bikini. You and your short shorts that might as well just be panties in disguise. You and those cute little, tight camisoles you always wear around the apartment. How he could just sometimes see the outline of your nipples where the thin material of your shirt clings to. How your bare legs look so good when you cross them while reading the paper on a Sunday morning by the kitchen island. How your breasts look like they could fit in Jungkook’s big palms with a bit of overspill – enough to drive him insane. 

These are the thoughts in Jungkook’s head as he continues to lather the liquidy texture of your body wash all over his body – and when his hand finally nudges the dick in between his legs, he groans. 

He’s not a stranger to getting off to the thought of you – you’re a gorgeous woman and it doesn’t really help the fact that he’s been in love with you for god knows how long – but it doesn’t mean that he does it guilt-free. He almost always feels like shit afterwards. 

But he can’t help it. Not when you’re all over his head again. Not when he’s thinking about how good it would probably fucking feel if he could just have a taste of your plump lips. How it would feel if he could just suck on your neck, paint you with his love there, down to your cleavage then play with both of your tits with his hands – be greedy with it – get your nipples rock hard and pretty tight for him, suck and latch and nip and lick them, make sure it’s all wet before he goes down more south. 

God. He thinks about it all the time. How’d it feel to go down on you. You’re so fucking pretty he could just imagine how gorgeous you would look down there, too. Were you the type to like getting eaten out? Jungkook hopes so. Because he would do everything to satisfy you. Fuck, he’d be so good to you. He’d tease your clit with his thumb first and you’d tell him that you’re aching for him bad – and he’d cave in and get his first taste with the flat of his tongue and fuck. You probably taste so good he’d crave it for days to come. 

The next thing Jungkook knows, he’s holding the base of his cock firmly, feeling it getting harder every second. It grows in his hand as he continues to think about eating your pussy, imagining the sounds you’d let out, how you’d look extra beautiful getting fucked by his tongue. Shit. He’d do it so well if you just asked. 

Jungkook traps his bottom lip with his teeth as he starts teasing his own cock, already in its full mass, hard and standing tall against his abdomen. He can see the shiny texture of his tip, precum leaking out, begging to be touched. He doesn’t wait any second to thumb the liquid off his head, letting out a half-sigh, half-hiss at how sensitive it felt, especially when he runs it over the veiny base.

Inhaling a sharp breath, Jungkook steps back a bit to cup his balls, squeezing it just enough to make him close his eyes. He repeats the motion of sliding his hand up and down his erect cock, feeling himself getting wetter at every second that passes. 

He gets a picture of you on your knees, and as he pumps himself at a slow pace, he imagines it’s you instead kneading him. You have slender fingers and pretty nails, it would feel so much better if they were wrapped around his cock right now. Your nails would scrape against his length, and you’ve held hands enough times for Jungkook to know that his hand is significantly bigger than yours, so you probably won’t fit all of him in your hand – but that’s alright. You’d tease him on the tip instead, spread his precum all over, get him needing and wanting more. 

Jungkook’s hips start to buck as he speeds up his pace, this time jacking himself harder as his mind jumps to more thoughts of you  — but this time around, you’re not on your knees: you’re pressed on the glass wall of the shower box, your ass bent for all of him to caress and squeeze, and you’re craning your head to look at him with hooded eyes, lips parted into a gorgeous “o” as you beckon him to come closer and put his hard dick in your warm, tight, and aching pussy. 

“Fuck.” Jungkook curses as he lets his forehead fall to the wall, resting there for a few good seconds, other hand scrambling to turn off the shower and quickly shutting his eyes close as he pictures himself thrusting into you instead of his stupid fucking hand.

“Shit, shit, shit—” He hisses, hand going faster around his length, pumping himself desperately to the thought of his dick sliding in and out of you.

Your moans would fill the tight room, and you’d sound so pretty. You’d be so pliant against the strong arm that he would wrap you with — and Jungkook would make sure to flick your nipples and fondle your breasts as he pounds into you from behind.

“Fuuuuck…” 

He grunts and he moans, hand impossibly going faster — dick getting harder. He just wants a release. He wants to cum so bad — to kiss you and love you and have you say it back with the same earnestness as him. 

Jungkook wants so badly to have you in his arms right after he eats you out, to cuddle with you and pretend like you have all the time in the world after he’s made sure to make love to every single inch of your body. To caress your hair and press a kiss on your head anytime he likes – because he’s allowed to. Because you love him. He just wants to be able to touch you in any way possible. Run his fingers over your back, kiss your cheeks, and your scrunched nose. Just wants to bury his face in your chest after a long day at work. Hold you tight against him. Have you close to him, whenever and wherever. 

But he doesn’t have all that. He can’t have all that. Not when you don’t even feel the same. Not when you reacted that way when he told you he loves you more than just his best friend. 

“I’m sorry, but I just can’t wrap my head around it. You’re not telling me the whole truth and frankly, I don’t believe you.”  

Your words ring in his ears as he continues to jack himself. 

The memory is still so vivid in his head — the surprised look on your face — certainly not the pleasant one. You were so… surprised. And angry. Like you didn’t believe any of what he said. Like you were trying hard to convince yourself that whatever you were hearing from him wasn’t true. 

Because she doesn’t feel the same way. Jungkook thinks.

He remembers the night you left. How you could barely look him in the eyes. 

“Shit—” Jungkook hisses as he squeezes his balls, hand pumping faster around his swollen cock. He closes his eyes as he tries to regulate his breathing, his stomach tightening at his impending release – and it’s the last thing he does in favor of his own sanity before his mind slips back again to life without you in it. 

He would never have you. He can never be anything to you anymore. 

He will never be, especially as he looks down at his hand on his cock.

How pathetic.

What would you think if you were to see him right now, getting himself off by imagining it’s you instead? You’d be so disgusted. You’d look at him like he’s a different person and feel betrayed because – how could the person you trust think about you like this? 

There’s that sense of self-hatred again that Jungkook feels whenever he jacks off to you. That fear of you finding out and not liking it. 

Jungkook tugs at his cock angrily as he thinks about all that, and he doesn’t notice that the stinging in the sides of his eyes would soon turn into tears running down his cheeks as he tries to reach his climax. 

You would hate him so much. You don’t even like him anymore. Don’t even want to live with him anymore.

But he just wants to cum so bad. Just wants to feel some sort of clarity. Delude himself into basking in that quick dopamine. 

He traps a sob in his throat as he makes quick work of his cock, and with one last squeeze around his tight balls, he shoots his hot cum to the wall, hips bucking at his orgasm. 

Letting out a series of hushed curses, Jungkook continues to pump his cock for more until he feels sensitive, and his dick turns soft and languid against his legs. 

He grabs the shower head to spray the cum off the wall, feeling the water already turning lukewarm. When he finishes cleaning his mess up, he grabs your body wash and exits the shower, throwing the bottle in the trash can with haste as if it burned him. As he turns back around, he catches sight of himself over the lavatory’s mirror. 

There are dark circles under his eyes — not too visible — but they’re there. His eyes are red from crying, and suddenly his body itches. He should shower again and actually clean up this time.

But Jungkook realizes as he stares at himself again… he has never looked so tired. Not even in med school. Or during internship. 

This whole thing is taking a toll on him – he knows that well by now. Even his friends do as well. He’s fucking up his sleeping schedule and he’s not even eating properly. He hits the gym not because he wants to but because it helps shut down his head.

Jungkook sighs. 

He’s long accepted that the love he holds for you is so big it sometimes borders on piteous. He’s spent so many years going into this kind of phase where he just mulls over the same thing; that he loves you, but you will never ever feel the same way back.

And the thing is, he's always been okay with it. Jungkook loves loving you. He’d be a fool not to when he genuinely thinks that you were made to be loved.  

But at this point, he just feels… tired.

Exhausted. Empty.

He wants to sleep. He wants to rest. He wants to wake up the next day and not feel like shit anymore.

Maybe Doyeon was right back at the villa.

It is time to move on.

And maybe… just maybe… unlike all the other times he’s attempted to do the same thing, this time around will be successful.

Your 7am to 2pm shift had just concluded when you arrived at your sister’s place, only to see them both all dolled up, ready to go out.

They told you that you could come with them if you liked, but of course you refused. You’re not the type to interrupt a date and they were certainly too in love for your liking. Don’t get you wrong, you love that for both – but you’re getting pretty sick of romance these days and you’re trying to avoid it as much as possible. Seokjin made sure to throw another one of his “Don’t mope around, okay? We have Macallan in the cupboards. You know the one.” jokes, though – having already known why you’re here in the first place – and your sister pinched his ear painfully enough for you to ignore and roll your eyes at him lightheartedly. 

Which leads you to now, binge-eating a left-over tub of vanilla ice cream on a Sunday afternoon from last night’s impulsive purchase. You know it’s going to make you feel like shit later, but you can’t really bring yourself to care – not when the ice cream tastes too good paired with a Sex and The City episode. 

You like to delude yourself you’re the early season Miranda; independent, boss bitch, career-driven, straightforward but kind. But you had a mortifying realization that maybe you’re actually Carrie. You’re both so obsessed with love and glorify the idea of “The One” that you overlook red flags in a guy just to stay in a relationship. And for what? To be completely broken and fucked over in the end of it all. 

But you don’t want to be Carrie – sure, she has a special place in your heart as a fictional character but real-life Carries, with all of their delusions and ideals, are not meant for the real world.  

“You’re watching that show again?”

You almost fall over the couch when you hear a familiar voice behind you, and when you crane your neck to look who it was, your eyes widen.

“Mom!” you exclaim, rightfully surprised. Your mother – in the flesh – smiles as she sees you grin. “Oh my god, I didn’t know you’d be here— wait, how’d you get inside?”

She waves you off. “You know your sister and Jin gave me a duplicate key to their place. Anyway, I’m just here to drop off some side dishes. Also, I know what you’ve been up to. And stop eating that ice cream.”

You pout, taking the tub away from you. When you see her walk towards the kitchen with her bags – presumably the side dishes she was talking about – you follow behind her steps, helping her load the containers in the fridge. 

“What do you mean you know what I’ve been up to?” 

“You and Jungkook fought, I heard.” 

“Mom,” you say with a tone that tells her you don’t want to talk about it at all. 

“You know I’m going over there shortly to give him these, right? Supposed to be for the both of you, but oh well, you’re lounging around here.” She says. 

“I’m not lounging around here. They love that I’m here.” You counter, referring to your sister and Seokjin. It almost sounded like a whine, though, more than anything. But it was true! They like you being here! They’ve always treated you like their child… but you know you’re kind of pushing it with your sixth-day-stay. 

Your mother looks at you disapprovingly, loading the last container before shutting the fringe doors shut. 

“Whatever you’re fighting about, you know avoiding it is not going to make it better.” 

You sigh. “I’m not even sure if we’re fighting, anyway.” 

“What’s that mean?” Your mom asks, sounding confused. You can imagine.

“I don’t know… just – I don’t think we’re angry at each other.”

“Not being angry at each other is worse than being angry at each other. That sounds like withdrawal.” 

You wince at her words. “Maybe.” 

Your mom sighs. She takes out a bit from the container of stir-fried zucchini and slides you both a plate. “Have you been eating real food? You look like you’re not eating properly.”

Teenager and college you would’ve rolled your eyes because she always says that you’re losing weight and blah blah blah, but it’s not even true. However, you do know she’s just concerned, though, and so you nod your head, picking up a zucchini and eating it.

“Yes. Jin’s a good cook.”

She nods, eating as well. “So is Jungkook. He hasn’t talked to you at all?” 

You thought you’ve dodged the topic of Jungkook completely but apparently your mom’s still on that. You nibble on your bottom lip as you think what to say.

“He… uhm… he didn’t text or call.” Well. There was one time. Two days ago. And it was just a simple text about informing you of the sudden change in the OR schedule. You replied to it with a thanks and a smiley face, but he didn’t say anything after that — not that your thanks should guarantee anything. That was not exactly a conversation starter.

Still. 

“Have you talked to him?” 

Shoot. 

You shake your head a bit. 

The truth is that you can’t be sad about Jungkook not reaching out when you haven’t been doing the same thing either. You’re running away from him – you can admit that. The past week hasn’t been your proudest moment. You’ve thought it over countless times; why you just can’t go ahead and speak to him – because heck, for eight years you’ve always done a good job at it, communicating with each other when things went wrong. Like when he teases you too much and you actually get offended, and the same goes for him.

But what happened wasn’t just something that came out of a supposedly lighthearted banter. It wasn’t your usual banter at all. 

“What happened, sweetie?” And this time your mom’s voice is bordering on concern. 

You don’t look at her when you say, “Jungkook said he’s in love with me.” 

You don’t get a reaction. At least – the reaction you were expecting. You thought she would gasp, or at least let out an, “Oh”, but there’s none of that. When you peer up at her, she just nods. 

As if the news was no surprise. 

“And I take it didn’t go well?” She looks at you gently. 

“N-no,” you stammer. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you say, “It was – it was so messy that day, mom. You know we went to that resort for his birthday, right? He and my boyfriend fought, and just – so much happened. I don’t even remember half of it. Just that he told me he’s been in love with me for the past eight years.” 

Your mom nods. “Your boyfriend… is that Mingyu?” 

“Yes.” It feels weird to call him your boyfriend now. You used to be so giddy calling him that. But right now, it feels almost icky. 

“Why did Jungkook and him fight?” 

You told her what Jungkook told you – everything, and your mom is sweet almost all of the time but as she listens to everything that Mingyu supposedly did and say – especially about you – she can’t help but knit her brows in that quiet anger you know all too well now. But it soon dissipates to worry. 

She steps closer to you. You look at her with a sad smile. With that, she encloses her arms around you, and you let your chin fall on her shoulder as you reciprocate her hug. You almost cry when she squeezes you. “How are you feeling then, sweetie?” She asks, voice so gentle and soft. Comforting. You think this has been what you needed all this time.

“Like shit.” you chuckle. “I’ve never been so tired. I haven’t even talked to Mingyu yet – I haven’t been talking to anybody, even my friends. I don't know why I’m like this.” 

“You know I worry for you.”

“Hm?” 

“You’re such a lovely, sweet girl. And these men keep breaking your heart. I wish I can ease your pain, honey. You have the biggest heart in the world.” 

You nibble on your bottom lip as you feel that stinging in your eyes at her words. You remember Jungkook saying almost the exact same thing.

“Jungkook told me that sometime ago.” you say, holding back the cry you know is coming out any second now. 

“He knows you well.” She says as she caresses your head. 

“I just…” you let out a sigh again, trying to shake off the oncoming tears. “When he told me he loved me all this time, I said I didn’t believe him. I couldn’t wrap my head around it. I still can’t.” 

“Do you think he would lie about something like that?” 

It’s firm and final when you say, “No.” Because you know in your heart that was true. Jungkook is anything but a liar. And especially about something like that… you just don’t think he would ever hurt you intentionally. That’d be cruel and Jungkook was never cruel. It’s just not in his nature. 

“Hm. Then is it because you don’t feel the same way at all? That’s why you can’t believe it?” Your mom asks and it’s the most groundbreaking question you’ve ever heard after a while. 

Do you just… not feel the same way? 

That was definitely the biggest question you’ve been avoiding answering. 

But as your mom pushes you slightly so she can look at you earnestly, gently, like she has no expectations whatsoever – just here to hold and comfort you – it beckons you into spilling your emotions. 

“I… I really don’t know, mom.” You intake a sharp breath. “He’s been a constant presence in my life for eight years. We’ve never– we’ve never considered the possibility of being more than just friends. I– I don’t know why he would love me. Or fall for me. He’s never shown interest, the way I saw it – but these days I’ve been rethinking that and I’m beating myself over for being stupid because it’s like – how could I have not known? He’s always been so caring towards me. Always makes time for me. He’s never let me down and he’s just – he’s my person, mom. Always has been. And how could I have thought that he didn’t mean for that to come off as purely platonic?” you stop, feeling your lips wobble. “It’s just… I don’t know. I don’t know what to feel. All I know is that these days without him have been so painful, especially when we haven’t properly talked. I miss him everyday and it kills me that we aren’t like before right now. I want to be by his side all the time, and I think I may have taken that for granted for the past eight years we’ve known each other.” 

You don’t realize you’ve let out so much, but your mom just lets you snuggle closer to her, knowing that you’re feeling a lot right now. And you do. You haven’t talked to anyone about what you really felt – not even your sister, even though you knew she did her best to do so – but as your mom soothes your back with the gentle rub of her hand, you let yourself be comforted. 

“You know what I think, honey?” 

You look up at her with teary eyes, nodding weakly.

She gives you a small smile. “Do you remember that time when I thought he was your boyfriend when you brought him for Christmas?” 

Nodding, you chuckle. Second year of med school it was. Eunwoo was in Switzerland for a a big project – and Jungkook’s parents weren’t in town. You both didn’t have anybody to celebrate Christmas with and so you ended up asking Jungkook to come home with you. 

It wasn’t just your mom who thought he was your boyfriend. Your sister and Seokjin also assumed the same thing. 

Around that time, you haven’t introduced Eunwoo to them yet so basically, they didn’t know that you were taken already. 

“I think this is just me being old… but you kind of… you get to know these things, __. You’ll see somebody's eyes, they way they gaze at somebody. When we were opening those gifts during Christmas eve, I saw the way that kid looked at my daughter with so much adoration that I even thought you were just being coy about him being your boyfriend.” 

Your lips curl into a tight line. 

You… certainly did not notice any of that. Did that really happen?

“I think Jungkook’s a good man, and your dad is fond of him – he asked me yesterday if you’re gonna bring him for Thanksgiving or Christmas, he misses his chess buddy, it seems. No pressure, though,” your mom chuckles. “But Jungkook’s smart, kind, polite, works hard, really charming—” you laugh again, despite yourself, because that’s definitely true. He charmed your parents so quickly with ease. It’s just really about his pleasant personality that attaches people to him. “But most especially, he makes you really happy. I liked that Jaehyun guy and Eunwoo because they made you happy when you were together. Up until they didn’t. I only like people who are good to you, sweetie. That was why I liked your ex-boyfriends for a while,” She begins caressing your head again and you feel like a little girl again, finding comfort in your mom’s bedroom after a bad day at middle school. Your mom smiles softly before she continues, “But those men hurt you. And they leave you. And you know who hasn’t in the past eight years? The only one who’s been consistent in making you happy?” 

It’s Jungkook. He’s always been under your nose while you cried over other men, and he was there to support you through it all. He’s the one who makes you laugh at his stupid jokes. The one who sits with you in your feelings on days when you don’t feel your best. He’s the one who lets you cry on his shoulder when a surgery doesn’t go well, the guy who would drop everything for you with one text or call, the guy who gifts you stupid, stupid random things because they reminded him of you. He’s the guy who shares his playlists with you, comments silly stuff on your equally silly posts, and he’s the only one who has never, ever made you feel like you’re not enough. He’s the only one who has never left and hurt you. 

It’s always been Jungkook. 

Your mom doesn’t need to say the name, though, just one look at you and she knows you're thinking the same thing. 

It’s during midday at the hospital when you see Jungkook again.

The elevator dinged and the doors finally opened on your floor, but you froze in your position when you saw who was inside the whole time. 

It was Jungkook, sitting slightly on the handrails while crossing his arms. His posture straightened for a bit as he met your eyes, looking equally surprised as you. But then he recovered and relaxed in his position just as quickly. 

You couldn’t read the look on his face.

Taking a hold of yourself before the door automatically closes, you stepped a foot inside the lift and pressed on the button of your floor immediately. The 7th floor button is lightened up, so you assumed Jungkook was gonna get off earlier than you since you were going down on the sixth floor. 

The confined space had never felt more suffocating. You could feel there was something in the air – a thick tension that was getting too hard to bear every second you felt the elevator moving down. 

There was a lump that formed in your throat, especially when you caught a glimpse of the reader going floors down fast, and the 7th one was nearing. 

Your heart beat erratically against your chest. You didn’t even feel that nervous back in the OR twenty minutes ago.

But you figured it was the first time you felt close, after all.

It was funny, really – what you felt at that moment. Being physically close to Jungkook had never made you feel like that – like you’re on edge – you’ve always just approached it as something natural, like you were meant to be that way. And those times, you never really thought about the contact ending. 

But in that moment, it felt like he was slipping away – even though you were not even holding him in the first place. 

It was probably why you let out your next words, craning your neck to the side to try and look behind you where you knew Jungkook was at. 

“I miss you.” 

You barely said it. Felt like just a soft whisper as the words slipped past your lips, but there was a break around its edges – like it was the most vulnerable thing you’ve ever said. 

It was. 

And you didn’t exactly know why you did it. 

Maybe you just wanted him to know. Maybe you just wanted him to understand that… that you were still there. And that you missed him. Every single day. Regardless of what happened. 

There was a thick silence that hung in the air after that, and you should’ve taken back your words right after they came out. Embarrassment should’ve clouded you by then. But you couldn’t bring yourself to do so. 

That was as honest as you could get. 

You didn’t even expect a reply – assuming that maybe Jungkook hadn’t heard it. 

But you heard the soft tap of his steps on the floor and felt his overwhelming presence coming near you. And just like that, you knew he was behind you. Close. A hair's breadth away. 

Then, you hear him let out a soft sigh, and you could feel his breath brush against your ear as he leaned down. You never realized how much you craved his affection until you felt him slightly nudging his cheek against the crown of your head. 

It made you keen. Made you shut your eyes close. Basking in the moment, but you didn’t ignore the pain that it caused. 

Because somehow, despite what might seem like a sweet gesture – the whole thing felt like goodbye.

It was so intimate, though, that you almost forgot that you were currently on the 8th floor and he was dropping off on the next. 

The elevator dinged like a wake-up call. And when you opened your eyes, Jungkook had already peeled his body away from you. Nibbling on your bottom lip, you fought the urge to cry as you saw him walking out. 

Before the door closed, he took one look at you. His mouth opened, as if wanting to say something. You waited. But he closed his lips again, not bothering to look back for even one last time before the elevator doors closed in front of your face. 

The interaction left a certain melancholy in your heart, and it made you run on auto-pilot when the elevator stopped on your floor. 

You never expected for the encounter to happen – but it did, in its own way. And now you have to deal with the consequences of your impulsive actions.

Your mindless walking has led your feet to somewhere a bit secluded. It’s far across the hall, and you recognize it as some old, empty ward. You and your friends have one on the 5th floor but you don’t think you’ve never really been here before and so you weren’t sure.

But you’re desperate to let out a good cry. Maybe not exactly cry – but just be alone for awhile. The hospital and your schedule are busy enough as they are and it’s enough to keep your mind occupied since the morning – but that interaction with Jungkook at the elevator reminded you of the weight that you’ve been carrying lately and you just… want to dissipate a little. Even if it means sacrificing your three-minute lunchtime. 

You don’t suspect anything as you twist the doorknob open – surprise to see it’s not locked like you thought it would be. 

And the sight leaves your mouth hanging open. 

“Oh my god.” 

“What the fuck.” 

“Shit!” You watch as Doyeon pushes off the man wearing a white lab gown on top of her – a very familiar figure that you can only recognize as none other than the attending surgeon Dr. Kim Namjoon. 

A panicked, “I’m sorry!” leaves your mouth before you turn on your heel, ready to fly off the scene when you hear Doyeon’s voice calling you from behind.

“Wait, __!” 

You hesitantly look back.

It’s obvious what they were doing before you entered the room. Doyeon’s hair is unusually out of the ponytail she always shows up to work with, and Dr. Kim… Jesus. He’s always been so intimidating to you – with his tall stature and his aura that reeks so much of authority, even though he doesn’t even try, it feels so fucking weird to suddenly see him with his hair all mussed up when it always looks kempt every single time you see him along the hallways of the hospital. Right now, he looks coy, like he’s shrinking himself as he avoids looking at you.

“Dr. __, I am so deeply sorry,” His apology sounds so remorseful that you feel bad for even having to barge in. You can see Dr. Kim fumbling with his coat as he looks at Doyeon like he’s looking for help. Doyeon looks at him, but she just… rolls her eyes.

“Joon, just–” She cuts herself off, shutting her eyes close. Seemingly agitated. Or embarrassed. You don’t know why you’re still here. “You should leave now, I’ll talk to __.” Doyeon lets her gaze fall back to you and your eyes widen at the declaration, not really knowing if she was serious or not. 

You mean… what are you even going to talk about? Sure! You’re shocked as fuck to see them together in that position but you’re not about to ask her about her sex life!

… Okay. So maybe you are a little bit (only a little) curious about that.

Dr. Kim has always been a mystery to all of you. Taehyung and Jungkook admire him so much, the latter lowkey idolizes him at this point. Nayeon has always spoken highly about him and you’re literally a fan of all his work in his field, especially his books. It doesn’t help that he’s attractive as hell, too, and you all may have gossiped about him at one point in your lives – so sue you for being curious! You’re just human.   

“You sure?” Dr. Kim says, barely spoken, but you don’t miss the gentle way he holds Doyeon’s shoulder as he asks that, the way his face contorts into a concerned expression when he looks down at her. One quick interaction and you instantly realize that oh… this is serious. 

They’re not just having casual sex in this ward.

This is Doyeon’s boyfriend.

Your bestfriend nods at him and you step aside to give Dr. Kim some space to leave the room, still visibly stunned. You thought he was going to leave when he utters another apology again. 

“__, I’m really sorry about this behavior. Doyeon and I—” 

Doyeon groans. “Joon, oh my god. It’s fine.” 

You watch as Dr. Kim’s (who Doyeon apparently calls “Joon”— what the hell) lips fall into a thin line. “Fine. I’ll go. We’ll talk about this later, alright?” 

“I know.” 

He gives you both one last glance before the door closes on you.

You swear you tried to look for cameras everywhere – like they do in The Office – to see if the whole thing was a prank. But no. Your life’s unfortunately not a sitcom.

“I told him to lock the door earlier,” Doyeon starts, sounding defeated as she falls back on one of the emergency beds. Sighing, she covers her face with her hands. “This is so embarrassing.” 

At that, you can’t help but react immediately. 

“You’re embarrassed about the fact that you’re fucking an insanely stupid hot, intelligent man?” Your brows knit. 

Doyeon looks at you and you both stare at each other. She holds her own, like she usually does, but for the first time ever, she breaks and chuckles. The laughter turns hilarious, and you follow her into the bed. 

“God,” she utters. She licks her bottom lip and looks at you shyly. “I didn’t mean for you to find out this way.” 

“I mean… what did you mean to do instead?” 

She hesitates. “I’m not sure.”

You frown. “So, you just… you just weren’t going to tell me? Us?” You didn’t bother to hide the tone of disappointment in your words. Doyeon looks a little ashamed when you verbalized that.

“It’s not that. I just didn’t know how,” She says. You knit your brows in confusion. “You know I’ve always been… private about my dating life or whatever. I don’t tell you guys I’m dating until I’m sure the guy and I are official. I… I don’t even date a lot in the first place.” 

Well… that was true. You nod at her, giving her a reassuring smile. “Yeah, I get that.” Doyeon smiles a little. “How long?” 

There’s a pregnant pause before she says, “Uh… since Feb?” 

“Jesus.” She winces at your reaction. You stare at her with your jaw slack. “What the fuck, Doyeon? Nine months?”

“Well, technically, eight but—” you look at her dryly and Doyeon gives up on her attempt at being facetious. “Okay. I’m sorry. It just happened.” You raise your brow at her. She sighs. “Okay, so we may have hooked up last year in December. You remember the Christmas party at the Ritz?” 

Your mouth just hangs wider, looking at her incredulously. Every drop of information she lets out just grows your surprise bigger, and you have nothing in substance to say except, “You… whore.” 

Doyeon laughs so loud you worry it might have been heard from the outside, but you wince at the slap that follows on your shoulder as she giggles nonstop. 

“Shut the fuck up, oh my god.” 

“No– I just– Oh my god, was that the reason why you bailed on our own Christmas party over at Nayeon’s?” She nods at your question with her lips pursed. You scoff, still not believing it but just overall amused in general. “You’re really throwing me a curveball here, babe. Like – I have never ever heard you talking about Dr. Kim except when you said you’d totally fuck him in that one drinking session. And then, you actually fucking did.”

She rolls her eyes, scoffing. “He started asking me out on dates in January and he asked me to be his girlfriend in Feb. I don’t even know how it happened. It just did,” She shrugs, as if she just said that the skies are blue. “I’m pretty good at hiding, huh?” 

You don’t hide the way you instantly frown.

“I’m happy for you, Doyeon, I really am. But… did you not feel like you could tell me? Or any of us?”

At least she looks apologetic, nibbling on her bottom lip before she says, “It’s not that, __. I didn’t know how to tell you guys. There’s this – there’s this thing when you date a co-worker, especially in the hospital. He’s an attendant, and he’s about to be chief of surgery next two months, you know that right? And it’s just— I know you will never think it, or the rest of our friends – but I just. I didn’t want anyone to think that I’m… that I’m sleeping my way here, you know? It’s fucking weird. And Ms. Yan from fuckass HR hates me for some reason. I’d be public enemy number one around here, __.”

You wince hearing her explanation. Nodding, you rub her shoulder to offer some kind of comfort, noticing that she’s actually silently fuming just by the mere thought of that. Meaning she must have been thinking about it for quite some time now. 

“But you know we’ll never think of it like that, right?” You confirm with her, just to be sure. You love Doyeon – she’s basically your sister at this point – and you don’t ever want her to feel like she can’t trust you.

“Of course. I don’t… I can’t really offer you any explanation other than I got scared and just wasn’t ready. Joon wants to let people know… and I don’t know. I guess I’m thinking about that too nowadays.” She says, and she’s not really looking at you anymore, seemingly deep in thought.

You begin rubbing her back. “It’s fine if you’re not ready yet.” 

“Oh, this is getting kind of mushy. I hate it.” Doyeon says dryly. You push her slightly which sends her sideways a bit, earning a laugh from her.

“Joon, huh?” You decide to tease to lighten up the mood. Instead of backing down and getting shy like you expected, Doyeon raises her brow. “Can I be honest with you, though?” You say, fiddling with your fingers. She nods so you tread lightly to your next words. “This will sound crazy, I know, but for the longest time I thought Jungkook was your secret boyfriend.”

“What the fuck?” Doyeon says, sharp and almost… disgusted. You don’t expect such a reaction. 

“Okay, you don’t need to sound so disgusted. Jungkook’s a good-looking guy and he’s very decent.” You say, sounding weirdly defensive – even to your own ears.

“No– that’s not what I meant—” Doyeon cuts herself off with a laugh. “That’s actually really funny, though.” You look at her curiously. “Somehow, I thought about you thinking that. Especially after that time at the villa when you walked in on us talking by the pool deck.” 

“I…” you try to come up with an excuse, something to deny her claim, but nothing comes, and your eyebrows knit in confusion because you actually don’t know yourself why you felt that way back then. You still remember the weird feeling that flared up in your chest upon seeing them in such an intimate position — with Jungkook’s head on Doyeon’s stomach and her caressing his head. Maybe you’re more malicious than you let on, but can she really blame you for thinking there was more to that? Besides, Jungkook’s second closest in the group is probably her. It made sense to assume they were secretly together. 

“God, don’t,” Doyeon says incredulously. “Obviously, he’s not my secret boyfriend. I don’t like him and he does not like me, at least not that way. That man only has heart eyes for you and I’m only into Namjoon, thank you very much.” 

You wince. “Sorry.”

“But were you really jealous that time, though?” Doyeon asks, intrigued. “I mean, I thought about it. You were acting weird. But I kind of just shrugged it off.”

“I was not jealous, what the hell,” you quickly say. “I was just surprised. And you’re both really close, so I don’t know.” 

Doyeon arches her brow. “You’re also both close, so going by that logic, are you two together?” You frown at her. She laughs, knowing she proved her point. “Alright, enough about that. How have you been these days?”

You stare at her before sighing.

“I’ve been wanting to say sorry.” 

“Damn straight,” she tells you immediately, like she’s been looking forward to it. “Like, you bitch– I thought you died. Not talking to me or to anybody for a week is crazy.”

“It’s not my proudest moment.” 

“Why?” 

You subtly inhale a shaky breath. “I… to be honest? I thought you guys were mad at me.” 

“What?” You can hear the incredulous tone Doyeon’s taking on. And you slowly realize that you completely just conjured a whole ass narrative in your head the whole time. 

“I know. I feel terrible about it. But I just… I couldn’t help but think that I ruined… things.” 

“Oh…” Doyeon says, and she cranes her neck down to meet your gaze as you’re tucking your head down slightly. “Why did you think that?” 

You open your mouth and close it, trying to find the right words.

“I… know I was completely being ambitious when I said I wanted to bring Mingyu along to the trip – and I realize I shouldn’t have done that. Our relationship was still so fresh, and I was already bringing him along to what was supposed to be our vacation. And the fight happened and the whole thing just went to complete shit. We didn’t even get to spend our five nights there because you guys had to book us a flight immediately and I just… I guess I just feel so bad about it. Had I not invited him… the trip would’ve been way more different. Happier, that I’m sure of.”

“__,” Doyeon calls your name firmly. “That was not any of your fault. Sure, you should’ve consulted with us – because I’m not gonna lie, you threw us in for a surprise when you said that Mingyu was coming, but that fight was not your fault. At all. They physically fought each other on their own accord, even though they knew they were already too grown to be doing that shit. Don’t feel guilty about what those men did.” 

You bite your lip. “Still. They— uhm. They apparently fought because of me. It’s stupid.” 

“Exactly. But… Mingyu kind of deserved it. Sorry.” Doyeon comments. 

You wince. “You know?” 

“Jungkook told us about it, yeah.” Doyeon says, as if hesitant to even mention his name in the conversation. 

You sigh. You’re not really surprised. “Did he… did he tell you guys… everything?” 

“He did.” Doyeon confirms. “It’s not actually new news for us, __.” 

You look confuse when you meet her gaze. “How do you mean?” 

She presses her lips into a thin line. “He’s in love with you. We’ve known for a while,” You stare at her, mouth agape. Doyeon reluctantly adds, “Since med school.”

“Oh.” You close your eyes for a moment. “Even Nayeon?” 

She nods. “Yes.” 

You’re silent for a while before you look away. Nodding, you whisper, “I see,” You sigh. “I don’t even… I’m not even surprised about that. Even my mother knows — I mean, Jungkook didn’t tell her of course, but she said she knew he had feelings for me.”

“I think… everybody knows, __.” Your eyes fall to Doyeon. She gives you a gentle smile. “Everybody who sees the way Jungkook looks at you immediately knows right away. He doesn’t have to tell someone he likes you for them to know that. Taehyung and I figured it out ourselves as well. And then Nayeon met you both and she did the same thing. Just had to fish out the confirmation from Jungkook himself.” 

“That’s…” you trail off, not really knowing what to say. “I’m really stupid for not noticing all this time, huh?”

“Hmm… maybe. Sort of. But also, not really. I guess it must’ve been just different for you. We’re just bystanders of your interactions — when Jungkook teases you like a fucker it’s easy to assume he’s flirting with you, but it must’ve been annoying as hell for you.”

You chuckle a bit. But it’s with fondness as you agree, “Yeah…”

“He sucks ass at flirting.” 

“I agree…” you trail off. “I – well, you probably know, but I told him I don’t believe him,” Doyeon hums, listening in. “I regret saying that. It really hurt him. But… who can blame me, Doyeon? I mean, am I not right for having doubts? Being confused? I mean, okay, yes, I was taken for the first four years we knew each other but I was— I was available two years ago and he didn’t— he didn't do anything. Why didn’t he do anything?” The words are coming off as a rant, you’re fully aware, but you let yourself go, anyway. “He was dating all those women and I just… how am I supposed to believe him when I thought he showed me the opposite?” 

“You mean how were you supposed to believe him when he sleeps around?”

You shut your eyes close. “I don’t– I don’t necessarily think he sleeps around, okay? Jungkook’s not a fuckboy or someone who sleeps with anyone with a pulse. He’s too grown for that shit. But I… I just meant, that… he dated a lot all throughout the time we knew each other, so where was I in the equation? You know what I mean?”

Doyeon stares at you for a bit, then she nods, looking ahead. “I know what you mean.” 

“Yeah?”

She nods. Then, “Are you worried he’s not sincere about his feelings? Because he dated a lot of people?”

“I-I’m not sure about that.” But maybe, that thought bothers you a bit.

“When was the last time he was with somebody?”

You don’t mean to sound defensive when you retort back with, “I wouldn’t know that. Contrary to popular belief, Jungkook and I do not actually talk about everything, and that includes our sex lives, but I know when he’s… seeing somebody.” 

“How?” Doyeon asks, looking at you. She wasn’t trying to trick you into anything, just genuine curiosity written all over her face.

You shy away from her gaze. “Four months ago… Nayeon’s engagement party. He was checking that woman out.”

“Oh… Kwon Jihyo?” 

Your brows furrow. “You know her?” 

Doyeon nods. “Yeah. Physio class back in freshman year. I talked to her at the party as well,” you grow more confused and Doyeon adds, “Also, she’s gay. Married with two kids.” 

“Oh.” 

That earns a chuckle from Doyeon. Tapping your arm, she tells you, “You don’t have a gay radar, it’s fine.” 

“Oh my god…” you slap a hand on your forehead. “I teased him about sleeping with her after the party…” 

You’ve always seen Jungkook as a regular ladies man in your head due to the fact that he gets women, quite very easily. Empirically, Jungkook goes on a lot of dates. But to be completely honest with yourself, you don’t even know the extent of those said dates. Jungkook doesn’t exactly oppose it when you lightheartedly tease him about being a playboy, but you do notice when that puts him off a bit.

Maybe you should’ve pried – maybe he gets put off because it’s simply not true? But you don’t think it’s not not true either, so… do you really think he sleeps around?

“Look,” Doyeon suddenly says which makes you look at her, snapping you out of your own messy thoughts. “I’m not trying to defend him or put in a good word for him or whatever. But I do know that you know him better than I do, so I’m sure you don’t actually think he isn’t sincere about his feelings for you. If you’re worried about his dating history, talk to him about that – but if we’re going by technical definition here, I don’t think Jungkook sleeps around, __. He doesn’t have a new woman switched out for another every seven business days, does he? Or is that a wrong assumption—”

“God, no,” you roll your eyes at her. “And anyway, why are we talking about this? I don’t care who he has sex with. He can do whatever he wants. He’s a grown man.”

“Yeah… but you just said it’s sort of the reason why you’re holding back.”

You feel blood rushing to your cheek because… that is true. You don’t even know why. Because you stand for what you said that he can do whatever the hell he wants. He’s young and he’s objectively attractive and he can have sex whenever he wants…

But somehow, that very thought — of Jungkook being with anybody that way, suddenly made a weird feeling flare up in your chest. You’ve never really paid it mind before, but right now that you now know what you know…

“It just kind of hurts a bit, I guess.” You say, not looking at Doyeon. “I mean, it’s irrational, really. I don’t expect him to be celibate for the eight years he’s claimed to love me, that’s just insane. I’ve also had sex with other people throughout the time and it would be unfair of me to dwell on the fact that he’s been with other people in the past when I also have but… it’s just… you know…” you trail off, and you feel like you’re gonna burst with so much embarrassment from the thoughts running through your head.

“I know… what?” Doyeon says, trying to fill in the gaps.

“I guess I just…” you swallow the lump in your throat. “I guess…. I guess I just expected him to want only me.” 

“Oh.” you look at Doyeon. “Oh wow. That’s…” 

You huff. “It’s childish, I know. It’s so stupid – I can’t think that. It’s unfair for him.”

Doyeon shakes her head. “No, I mean, I get that. I get that completely,” She scoots closer to you. “You have to know, though, that for the past eight years, Jungkook has tried many times to move on from you.” That words felt like a bucket of cold water. He’s tried…? Doyeon gives you a small smile when she notices the way your face fell. “It was really tough for him when you and Eunwoo got serious, but he couldn’t do anything about it. He tried seeing other people, in the hopes that they could make him feel what he does for you. He didn’t do that in vain – like he did it maliciously in hopes that you would get jealous or whatever. He did that – he does that – because he also genuinely wants to be with someone who can reciprocate his feelings. Min Sora was really close… but I don’t really know what happened to that. I’ve assumed since then that he must still probably love you. And he still apparently does, even to this day. I’m not saying all of this in favor of him, okay? But do you not want to give him a chance because of that? He really loves you, __. He admires you a lot. You don’t know how much he’s just in awe of you. He talks about you a lot when you’re not around, and he’d ditch just about anything to get to you with one call. Look… I don’t know what you feel, and at the end of the day, you call the shots. But I think he’s worth it, __. Because I know him as well and everybody knows he’ll treat you right. You just gotta give him the chance.”

You take in Doyeon’s words carefully.

“That’s not really the only thing I’m skeptical about,” you sigh. “Him having slept with other people is not the top of my concern, because we weren’t in any relationship. Again, I couldn’t have expected him to be celibate all this time. What I’m really worried about is the fact that he’s so— he’s so important to me, Doyeon. I’ve known him for eight years and he’s… he’s quite literally the best thing that ever happened to me—” you stop for awhile because you feel your voice breaking, just in time when the sides of your eyes sting with precedent tears. But you can’t cry right now. You’ve done that a lot in the past few days.  “And if— and if I do feel the same, and then we do this thing, what if it all goes wrong? I don’t – I can’t really bear the thought of him not present in my life. I have never considered that ever since I’ve known him. I’m so lucky with my friendships but my romantic relationships all suck. They’re shit. And I don’t want to have a shit romantic relationship with Jungkook, because that would mean I’d lose him. And I don’t want to lose him… do you— do you get me, Doyeon? I’m so scared. Because there's this part of me that wholeheartedly believes what he said, but there’s a bigger part of me that’s in denial because I can’t stop thinking about things going wrong.” 

“Hey,” Doyeon gently calls, and you don’t realize that you’ve been holding back a sob because the moment she scoots closer, arm circling your back, you bury your face in her chest and let out a quiet cry. She cradles your head, and you close your eyes at that. “What if things don’t go wrong, though? What if it works out?” 

You sniffle. “But things always go wrong for me and my boyfriends. I don’t know what I did to deserve it, but they just never end well.” 

Doyeon lets out a heavy breath. “I completely understand that. Again, you know Jungkook better than I do. Better than anybody I know, really. You would know exactly what he’s capable of – and that includes the possibility of him hurting you, or the lack of it thereof. It’s really your choice, __. Just… just talk to him, okay? He’s been wanting to, but you’re not reaching out and he said he didn’t want to suffocate you or anything like that.” 

You quickly perk up at that. “He said that?” Doyeon nods. It makes your shoulders deflate. “But… but we were in the elevator today and he…”

“He what?”

“He… uhm… well I said something stupid,” you wince, wiping the stray tears from your cheeks. “I said I miss him, but he didn’t – I don’t know. He didn’t say anything,” Nibbling on your bottom lip anxiously, you look at Doyeon reluctantly, gauging her reaction. “I think he actually hates me now.”

Doyeon is quiet for a moment before she speaks. “You just… you really have no clue how much he loves you, huh? You can kill a close relative of his and he’ll make excuses for you, I don’t doubt that even for a second,” She says and for a moment you’re a bit offended because you’re getting kind of tired of people pointing out that Jungkook being into you is obvious like how the grasses are green, but Doyeon shakes her head, face in pure disbelief. And you just know she didn’t mean it that way. She genuinely looks baffled. “You really need to talk, __. This is… it really hurts seeing you both like this."  

You tuck your head down. “I’m thinking about it.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. I think… I’m going back to our place tonight. But I’m not sure. I’ll probably chicken out last minute.” 

Doyeon pats your arm. “Do it, okay? Just be honest with yourself and to him. You both need that.” 

You give her a small, weak smile.

You’re pretty much drained the moment you arrive at your place. Sighing heavily, you punch in the passcode and almost feel your knees buckling at the sight of the interior of your apartment. 

It feels like it’s been so long since you’ve been here, and coupled with the discussion that you had with Doyeon yesterday, everything suddenly feels overstimulating and there’s an urge at the sides of your eyes to cry. 

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you breathe in and out as you enter the threshold, noting the fact that nobody is at home. Or Jungkook isn’t present anywhere in the living room. You’re a bit grateful for that if you have to be honest to yourself – after all, the last time that you talked to him did not exactly go as well as you’d like. 

He could be in his room, though. That’s what you assume as you go straight over to the kitchen in hopes to heat up the take-out that you bought at the driveway. As you leave your phone on the counter, you notice the to-go container from Chipotle on the same surface, as well as the laptop that is left open beside it. 

So Jungkook is home. 

The question is, where could he possibly be, leaving out his stuff here in the kitchen? Might be in his bedroom to grab something real quick? 

You don’t mean to do the next thing that comes to your mind, but your feet – your stupid feet – track back from the microwave to the island, and your eyes betray you as they go look and read the words on the screen of Jungkook’s macbook. 

The tab that shows is an apartment listing website, and besides are more tabs that show some familiar real-estate names you’ve come to on the internet before when you were looking for a place. 

It makes you freeze in your spot, eyes glued to the daunting images of the apartment layout that Jungkook must’ve clicked on awhile ago, and you take note that he’s seemingly, specifically, looking for one-apartment bedrooms and studio apartments. 

Your mind goes into a sudden haywire at the sight. 

What does this mean? 

“Oh, hey,”

The embodied voice makes your head snap to its direction, and you see Jungkook standing in front of you in his sweats and shirt – his usual home clothes – with a charger in his hand. 

“Jungkook.” You say, or more like, breathe out. Your heart feels like it’s somersaulting for some reason at the sight of him. 

But Jungkook looks just as surprised as you. 

“I… I didn’t know you’re coming ho– back.” He says, and there’s a twinge in your heart that you ignore when you caught him pointedly avoiding the word home when pertaining to your place. Somehow, that felt intentional.

But you give him a smile. Probably a weak one. Probably doesn’t really look like a smile at all and more like a grimace. If Jungkook notices, he doesn’t say anything. Just goes straight to the direction of the highchairs on the island and plug in his charger for his laptop. 

Then, he turns to look at you. “Uh... you just got off from your shift?” 

“Yeah. You too?” You say, nibbling your bottom lip with your teeth. A nervous habit. 

“Nah, got off a few hours ago.” 

“Oh. Okay.” 

“Yeah.” 

You nod your head. You stand there for a while, letting the silence that’s admittedly awkward hang in the air. 

It’s weird, really. Jungkook and you usually have a lot to say to each other – but right now, there doesn’t seem to be a single thing you can say to one another. 

It breaks your heart that’s the current case. 

“Well, uhm. That’s Zillow.” You say, pointing to his laptop. The moment the words left your lips you swear you could have slapped yourself. 

How stupid to ask him about it. How incredibly stupid for that thing to be your choice of topic after weeks of no proper communication with him. 

Jungkook seems surprised at this, though, turning his head immediately to look at his own laptop. There’s a certain jerk in his movements when he moves his fingers to the trackpad that closes the entire window of the internet and shows his wallpaper instead. 

“Oh. Yeah. That was… Zillow.” 

Stupid, stupid you makes everything even more awkward when you say, “You’re looking for a place?” 

Jungkook stares at you for awhile. There’s a pregnant pause, and then he nods his head. A bit hesitant. But his voice is full when he speaks. 

“Yeah.” 

So, he’s moving out. That’s what you think as you avoid looking at his face and let your gaze fall back to his laptop. 

You give him a small smile. 

“Ah. Good luck with the search, then.”

Your heart completely breaks when you say the words.

Suddenly, the words of your supposed confession get stuck and they die in your throat. You let yourself believe that coming home tonight would fix everything; you just had to go inside, talk to Jungkook, tell him you were sorry about what you said – and the rest would just do its thing and you'll be back to okay.

But he's moving out, and every bit of hope in you shuts down.

Jungkook doesn’t say anything for a while, and you’re just about to turn on your heels to go to your room but then he utters lowly, almost like a whisper. 

“It’s not final.” 

“Hm?” You hum, not sure if you caught that. 

Rubbing the back of his neck, Jungkook looks away as he says again, “I mean, I’m just looking. I was gonna talk to you before I finalize my plans.”

“Talk to me? Why?”

“Since we’re on a joint lease and all that.” 

“Oh.” You nod to yourself, dumbfounded. It's embarrassing the way you lit up with expectation when he said it wasn't final, for it to completely die anyway when he said that. You feel like you're not wanted. “Yeah. Right.” 

“I assume you’re tired from your shift, though, so maybe we can go over it tomorrow? Or any day you like, really.” Jungkook shrugs. 

“No, tonight’s fine,” You wave your hand, walking towards his direction and seating yourself on the chair beside him. You try to focus all your attention on the screen in front of you instead of Jungkook’s overwhelming presence. You’ve always thought he was big but tonight, he feels even bigger and you’re intimidated. “Are you writing a notice to the landlord?”

“Yeah – I mean, after we talk about the move, that is.” 

“Wow.” You can’t help but let out. “You really thought about all this while I was away?” 

You regret the words just as instantly as they leave your mouth. 

Looking at Jungkook hesitantly, you watch as his face falls, mouth opening and closing, as if at a loss for words. 

You take them back before he says something. “Sorry — I didn’t mean for it to come out that way.” Sharp and edgy, clipped and… angry. Sort of accusatory. Like you’re pinning something bad on him.

“It’s fine.” Jungkook says after awhile, returning back his gaze on the laptop. 

His withdrawal makes you deflate. He seems so uninterested. Is he done with you? Just like that?

“You know what,” You utter after a pregnant pause, standing up from the chair and getting back on your feet. “I actually have a headache. I think we should go over this tomorrow.”

Jungkook looks confused but he nods, anyway. “I just… stocked up on Advil yesterday. So, if you need it… it’s just in the kit.” 

“Sure. Thanks,” You give him a small smile. “I’ll, just go, uh, shower for a bit.” You point to the bathroom across from you. 

Before you go, Jungkook calls your name.

“__.”

You turn around to look at him. “Yes?”

“Are you…” He trails off. You wish he’d look at you like he usually does. “Are you back for good?”

You don’t expect that question at all. But you collect yourself on time to respond. “Yeah. I guess I am.”

Jungkook’s expression is something unreadable, so you throw him an awkward smile. You’re not sure if he returned it, because everything is becoming too much, and you can’t help but overthink every single thing he does. So, before you can dwell on that, you go straight to the bathroom to do your business. 

You shower quickly – you can’t focus when you know that Jungkook is just outside, and he can probably hear the water running. You’ve never really paid thoughts to these stuff except the first few weeks of moving in with him, but right now, there’s a certain awkward tension in the air and it’s slowly suffocating you. You needed to get out of the shower box quick.

And so you did, but you don’t expect the series of knocks on the door, with Jungkook’s voice behind it. 

“__?” 

“Y-yeah?” You stammer, wrapping your towel around you (that Jungkook thankfully hasn’t thrown out yet) with haste and getting to the door immediately to answer him. 

When you open it, Jungkook visibly freezes for a bit. And you realize you’re in nothing but a piece of cotton; bare underneath, droplets of water running through your body from the tips of your uncovered, wet hair. 

You consciously tighten the towel around your body, making sure to act unbothered when you say, “What?” 

Jungkook seems to snap out of the moment just as you did. When you follow the hand that he lifts, you see your phone in it. Weirdly enough, you had time to notice the way the device fits so small in his hand when you can barely wrap your phone around your fingers yourself.

What the actual fuck are you talking about, you tell yourself at the back of your head. What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck—

“You left this on the counter. Mingyu’s been calling you.” 

It’s like you’ve been suddenly hit by a truck upon hearing the name.

“Oh. Okay. Sorry about that.” You take your phone when he offers it to you. You don’t know why but you avoid Jungkook’s eyes as you step out of the bathroom and press the decline button, causing the ringtone to stop abruptly. 

You don’t look back at him as you enter your bedroom, locking the door and throwing your phone on the mattress and going straight to your closet.

Nothing much has changed since the last seven or so days. What would change, anyway? It’s not like Jungkook has some sort of business in here. 

When you finished dressing yourself up with your usual pajamas, a worn-out tee and a pair of short shorts, you go over right to your bed, picking up your phone. 

The notification bar says that you have six missed calls from Mingyu and two texts. An upgrade from his three to four times in the previous days. 

See, it’s not only Jungkook or Doyeon or Nayeon or Taehyung whom you’ve been avoiding. It’s also Mingyu. The last time that you two talked was when you said goodbye to each other when he was catching his flight from the resort. You’ve completely shut everybody out after that thing happened, and again, it’s not your proudest moment. You’re only non-confrontational to a certain degree, but you usually handle your problems like a grown woman. 

You just really don’t know how to handle this one. 

But Mingyu’s been calling, and you haven’t answered or replied to any of his messages ever since. 

It’s just… everytime you think about him… it hurts.

It hurts to think of somebody you’ve given your trust to, only for them to step on it without any remorse. It hurts that you once thought he was going to be the one, only for him to end up as someone you’re starting to… hate. It hurts extremely that just eight days ago, you held this high level of adoration for him, but now you don’t feel anything at all but simmering anger. 

Sighing, you click on his message instead of sliding it out, gearing yourself for what you’re about to read.

gyu😽 [10:15pm]: Dinner at my place tonight? gyu😽 [10:32pm]: Can you pick up my calls?

You scrolled through the other ones he sent in the past week, and you find out that they’re simply just a variation of “do you want to have dinner together tonight”, “why aren’t you picking up?” and shockingly… a couple texts of “i miss you”. 

You’ve only been bullshitting when you told Jungkook that you had a headache, but right now that excuse might be true because you can feel a tick in your head, a certain bang on the front, and you just want all of this to end. 

Letting out a controlled breath, you swallow the lump in your throat as you type a reply. Finally.

You [10:50pm]: Can we talk tomorrow? 

To your surprise, Mingyu responds quickly.

gyu😽 [10:51pm]: of course. dinner?

You [10:52pm]: yeah. i get off at around 8 tomorrow.

gyu😽 [10:52pm]: I have some paperworks to attend to but 8 is fine by me.  gyu😽 [10:53pm]: Can we go to a restaurant? gyu😽 [10:53pm]: I haven’t cleaned my place so I thought we could go outside

You [10:54pm]: It’s alright. Also, no need to pick me up. I’ll uber. 

gyu😽 [10:55pm]: You sure?

You [10:56pm]: Yeah.

gyu😽 [10:56pm]: Alright then.

You don’t get a lot of sleep that night.

“Hey, sorry I’m a bit late. The partners had a meeting over at the firm,” Mingyu says, loosening his tie a little, breathing a bit sharp as he takes the seat across from you. 

You nod, giving him a small smile. Taking a sip from your water, you watch as Mingyu fixes his tie again, some sort of attempt to look kempt, like he hasn’t just run here. He was in a rush, and you feel bad that he had to go over here quickly when the partners meeting was probably something important. He could’ve canceled and you wouldn’t have mind. 

“So. Hi,” Mingyu greets you as if he’s making up for his rash entrance earlier. He gives you a smile, the one that’s his usual charming smile – you remember fawning over it the first time you met him. “How have you been?”

“Fine. I’ve been doing well.” you answer. In your lap, your fingers fiddle with each other.

You’ve thought about how you are going to go over this, but obviously the scenarios that played in your head yesterday and before you went here were so much more different than now. You weren’t an anxious mess in your imagination.

Mingyu nods. “That’s good to hear. Been doing fine as well.” He says casually. 

That makes something flare up in your chest.

Fine? He’s been doing fine? 

Before you can say something, a waiter comes up to your table to give you the menu, and that effectively keeps you from saying the words you were probably going to regret as soon as they come out of your mouth. 

You both tell your respective orders to the waiter before he walks away, leaving you two nodding and smiling ahead. When he’s gone, you’re left alone with Mingyu again. 

You look at him — and his usual suits and tie ensemble would usually make you gush internally about how good he looks, how you can still see the way he’s built under the pristine fabric of his clothes, and how attractive he is the way he carries himself. 

“I’m glad you called me tonight, sweetheart.”

And you don’t expect the way the hairs on your body tingle with… ick. 

“Sure.” You say, drinking from your glass of water again.

Just get over it, your mind convinces you. But how are you going to approach it?

Moments pass and then suddenly, Mingyu lets out a heavy breath. You peer up at him, raising a brow. 

“Alright, I’m not gonna skirt around this anymore, __,” He says, and his eyebrows are knitted in what seems like confusion when he meets your gaze. “What’s going on with you? You’ve been avoiding me.”

The confrontation somehow eases you even though it shouldn’t.

Licking your bottom lip – an anxious habit that you try hard to forgo – you compose yourself before you say, “I have. Yes, you’re right.”

“Why?” Mingyu asks with genuine curiosity. 

Somehow, this bothers you. Does he really not know or he’s just pretending not to know? Whichever it is, it does not really make you feel any better about him. If he’s pretending not to know, then he’s an even bigger asshole than you’re letting him on, but if he does not know, then that’s just even worse. Imagine doing all of those things and not being aware that you did something wrong enough to upset people? 

“I have to be completely honest with you, Mingyu. I want to break up.” 

The words come out easily as opposed to what you expected. 

Somehow, it’s strange, really. You’ve never dumped anybody before. Of course, you don’t count those casual dates you’ve had in the past two years because they were never that serious. But usually, in your long relationships, the other guy does the dumping and never you. 

So, right now, as you sit across from Mingyu, finally declaring what you’ve been thinking over the past week, you feel a sense of liberation. A cliché, really. There’s a feeling of discomfort gnawing at some parts of you, but you choose to ignore it, bravely meeting his gaze instead. 

“What?”

“I want to break up with you.” You reiterate, this time fuller so he knows your decision is final.

His mouth opens and closes, and there’s a pregnant pause that hangs in the air before he finds his tongue. “But why?” 

“Are you serious?” You can’t help but snap. “Do you really not know?” 

“No. Fill me in, because I’m confused.” Mingyu doubles down, and it fires you up a little bit. 

“Mingyu, Jungkook told me everything,” You say, and you notice the way his expression changes into something more… unreadable the moment you dropped Jungkook’s name. “And I mean everything. What you did with his girlfriend back in college, and what you said about me to goad him into a fight. I mean, what were you thinking, Mingyu? All of that was just… low. Even for you. I can’t believe you’d do any of that.” You catch your breath after you say the words, not realizing how heavy it would feel to let them out. You’ve never been confrontational, would prefer if the other person did all the talking, and to do this right now is taking so much from you.

“He told you everything?” Mingyu asks again. You watch as he relaxes his posture, and you grow confused when his lips curl into a smirk. “I knew he would do that. Come crying to you with his lovesick head. Did he finally grow some to tell you he loves you, then?” 

You recoil, not expecting that. “That’s none of your business.”

“It is my business. You’re my girlfriend.”

“I’m not anymore.”

Mingyu inhales a sharp breath. “So, you’re choosing him?” 

“I—I— what?” you blurt out, surprised at his audacity. “I’m not choosing anybody. And it’s really bold of you to assume that you’re still one of my options after all that.” 

Scoffing, Mingyu drinks from his water. He looks at you with a blank stare as he says, “Well, be honest with me now. Do you love him?” 

“Do I love him?” You chuckle, not the least bit of humor in it. “You don’t really deserve my honesty, Mingyu. You had all of those four months to be honest with me and you didn’t do shit. Don’t ask me any personal questions and expect me to give you an honest answer. Because I won’t give you any of it.” 

“You said a lot of things but I know you love him just as much as he loves you.”

“What are you talking about?”

This time, Mingyu’s tone borders on sharp when he leans down to get to you closer so you can hear him clearly. “You think it was easy for me to be in a relationship with you when all you could talk and think about was Jungkook? Jungkook who was only supposedly your bestfriend?” It’s said with so much wrath that you can’t help but physically recoil at his words. When you don’t say anything, Mingyu continues, “Jungkook told me this movie’s good, Jungkook said their aglio e olio tastes great, Jungkook and I were just talking about this — I could go on how many times you’ve always managed to insert him in anything even when we’re together, but I did not want to be that kind of boyfriend who got jealous over their girl’s friends, and I was that for you – and you think I’m the bad guy here?”

You blink, mouth opening and closing. You fish for some words, something to defend yourself with. Have you really said all that? Did you really do that? Did you really talk about Jungkook enough times that Mingyu took notice of it? 

You’ve always thought that your friendship with Jungkook is platonic. You’ve convinced yourself of that and Jungkook seemed to think the same — at least that’s what you thought prior to his confession – and you like to think that your friendship works, even though the majority of people don’t agree that opposite genders can be purely friends.

But… did you think wrong? Did you really just convince yourself it was platonic when all along… it was not? 

You don’t exactly recall the moments that you talked about him while you were with Mingyu. It’s hard to when talking about Jungkook just comes like second nature. You don’t count the times you see the grass being green – because they are and will always be green. 

And that’s what Jungkook is to you. He’s been such a constant presence in your life that you can’t help but bring him up in any case because… because it just feels right to do so.

Now you think about your relationship with Eunwoo. How he never really liked Jungkook. Did he think the same as Mingyu? Did you also talk about your best friend too much in his presence? Did he count the times you mentioned Jungkook’s name in your conversations? Do you really talk so much about him?

“See?” Mingyu says after a while and it snaps you out of your stupor. “Don’t tell me I’m a liar when you’ve also been lying to me this whole time.” 

“How dare you?” You snap at him. You can take him pointing out about the thing with Jungkook, but never this. “I didn’t hide anything from you. I was not the one with the history of cheating with their friend’s girlfriend and I didn’t talk behind your back like you’re merely just a piece of meat.” 

Mingyu visibly stills and you bite your lip after saying the words. You didn’t mean for it to come out that way. Didn’t really mean to say that in the first place. But it’s done and you can’t cry over spilled milk. 

Doesn’t negate the fact that you feel like shit, though.

“You think I didn’t regret what I did?” Mingyu says, a little quiet this time. If you weren’t at the quieter part of the restaurant, in a booth where the sound of the classical music and people’s chatters are muffled, you won’t hear him at all. “Jungkook and I were close, __. We really were. And I fucked up and ruined his trust. But you also don’t know how and why that happened. Jiyeon was already cheating on him before she hit on me–” 

“Oh, so is that the part where you volunteered to be one of her “victims”, too?” You say sarcastically, cutting him off, incredulous about the fact that he’s really trying to make excuses for himself right now. 

“We were fucking drunk– and high, okay? We didn’t know what we were doing.” Mingyu says through his teeth, and it’s the first time you see him lose control. He’s always so kempt and so composed, it’s baffling you’re seeing him in this state.

But you refuse to believe his bullshit. 

“You know what, I don't know why you’re saying this to me. You should be saying this to Jungkook and frankly, I simply don’t care. What happened back then is between you – don’t include me into any of your arguments ever again,” You say exasperatedly. “My issue is that – and why I’m breaking up with you in the first place – is that you lied to me, Mingyu. You lied to me about so much. And If I were to go through this relationship with you longer, I don't know what else you’re going to lie to me about, and I don’t want that. Let’s not waste each other’s time and end it right here, right now.” 

Mingyu leans back on his seat. “I can’t change your mind even if I apologize to you about that, huh?”

You shake your head.

He nods. 

“Alright.” 

You look at him again.

Kim Mingyu has sharp features that usually make him look broody from an outsider perspective, but you’ve seen the way he smiles and how gentle he looks when he does. Right now, though, he looks… genuinely sad. 

He lied to you, yes, but somehow, there’s still some part of you that wants to know if he felt the least bit genuine about you. That it wasn’t all just a ploy to get to Jungkook. 

“Did you really like me? Even for a moment?” You break the silence, voice breaking slightly at the end. 

Mingyu looks up at you and you don’t expect the way his lips curl up into a small smile. “Yes, __. I did. I liked you the first time we met and believe it or not, I still have feelings for you right now.”

You look away to avoid his intense gaze. 

It’s weird. It’s so weird. Because even though you know in your heart that he’s not and will never be good for you and that he’s not a loss, your heart still aches at the declaration. 

“I don’t really know if I believe that.” You say, almost like a whisper. 

“I’m sorry, then.” Mingyu says, and it sounds so sincere that you start to feel some sort of stinging in both sides of your eyes.

In what seemed like forever, the waiter arrives with your orders, and you both look up and offer him a hand in placing them on your table, bidding him thanks as he once again walks away. 

You and Mingyu both look at your food. 

“I think I’m going first. I have a trial tomorrow, so I need to take care of that.” He says suddenly. 

Nibbling your bottom lip, you watch as he begins to fix his shirt, ready to stand up. 

“Okay.” 

“__?” You look up at him when he calls your name. He seems to hesitate for a bit, but he says, “Can you… can you tell Jungkook I’m sorry?” 

Staring at his face, you try to look for a hint of sarcasm. Or anything indicative of malice. But all you see is sincerity. 

At that, you shake your head. “No.” Mingyu’s face falls. “Talk to him yourself if you really are sorry. I’m not your mailman, Mingyu.” 

He sighs. “Alright. I guess you’re right,” And then, “And I’m saying sorry, to you too, you didn’t deserve that. I was angry, and that’s not an excuse. So, I’m sorry. Will you…” he clears his throat. “Will you ever forgive me?”

You shrug. “I don’t know. Probably.” 

Mingyu gives you a timid smile. “Okay.” 

When he takes out his wallet and a black card from there, you instantly stop him from calling over the waiter. 

“No, it’s fine, I’ll take care of it. I’m the one who invited you here.” You say, talking him out of paying. 

He shakes his head, insisting, “It’s okay.”

“Seriously, I can handle it.” 

Mingyu lets out a chuckle which makes you smile a bit before you scold yourself. 

“I know. But can you let me? This is… this is probably the last time we’ll see each other.” 

At that, you relax back in your seat, staring at him. He stares right back at you. 

With a slow nod, you let him call over the waiter.

He departs with a small goodbye that you return with a timid wave. 

When you go home that night, you cried yourself to sleep, thankful that Jungkook hasn’t come home from his shift yet.

Things are… fine. 

Unlike your previous break-ups that left you in agony for the following days after it happened, the one with Mingyu did not really leave a huge emotional impact. It makes you wonder if you’ve overestimated your feelings for him… makes you question yourself if you really thought he was the one when things were fine, and you both dated happily. 

You don’t bother yourself looking for answers, because the relationship is done and there’s no point in going over the details when it’s you yourself who ended the ties. 

While that is not the sole reason of your melancholic feeling these days, it lies on another person; your roommate, Jungkook – your best friend of eight years who’s apparently been in love with you the whole time. 

It’s only been a few weeks ever since you talked about him moving out. He said it was about time for him to leave the place – he’s been here longer than you, after all. He wrote and sent the notice to his landlord, and it’s been about two weeks since then, so you assume he’s already got his approval. 

While things may look normal and right from an outsider’s perspective… things aren’t exactly the way they were before.

Jungkook and you are close. You share almost everything together. Your friendship has been honed throughout the many years and obstacles you’ve faced together and so it’s only natural for you two to be as close.

But nowadays… you can feel that closeness slipping away. It flares up something inside you; like that feeling of grief when you remember that friend in highschool who you stopped talking to after graduation. You don’t know exactly what the reason is for the abrupt end of communication, but the finish line is there and you’ve both reached it without the other knowing – and you’re left fending for yourselves, looking ahead at your own worlds and letting your lives flow to the stream of the river. 

It’s strange, really; how everything feels somewhat normal but also really under that condition. 

Jungkook and you would text each other nonstop – he could be in his own room, and he’d still text you about random shit that ends up with him going to your room anyway just to annoy you for a bit before you kick him out and you both go to sleep. He’d ask to borrow something – anything, ask your food preference for the night, and he’d always ask you when your shift ends so you can go together if your schedules align. Meanwhile, you ask him to join you in the living room for spontaneous movie nights, ask him to give you a massage, and you’d both talk about your days, catching up on the hours you weren’t together.

And now there’s none of that. 

Now, you both greet each other when the other one gets home almost like a chore. Like how your roommate from college used to welcome you when you arrived at the dorm from classes. When either you or he is in the living room or something, you’d both tell each other that “Dinner’s in the fridge, you can microwave it”, instead of “What do you think we should have for dinner?”. Jungkook asks if you need a ride to the hospital because he knows you don’t have a car anymore, but you refuse because it’s obvious it’s just for formality. 

You don’t know if it’s just the overthinker in you, but it feels like Jungkook’s pulling back and he has no intention of making things right – or talk about what happened. 

He’s so… he’s so civil.

And you miss him so much it makes you sad.

It makes you confused. Sort of mad. He makes you feel a lot of things – but you hate that you’ve just been compartmentalizing and not doing any processing at all. 

You spent the past few weeks pointing out to yourself the differences that your relationship is going through. You spend some nights beating yourself up whether to go barge in his room and confront him with everything – but you do none of that. 

Instead, you pretend everything’s okay. At the hospital, you’ve no longer avoided him and said hi which he returns with a smile. Nayeon, Taehyung, and Doyeon, thought at first that everything’s back to normal, but you know they’re slowly realizing that it has not. 

Tonight, though, at Nayeon’s reception party after her wedding, you try hard to ignore all those angsts and choose to enjoy yourself instead. It’s Nayeon’s big day. The last thing you wanted to be was a bum.

Everybody is socializing with each other, and since you’ve had your fair share of conversations with other people at this point, you choose to sit out on the dance.

Suddenly, Billy Joel’s Uptown Girl is playing and the majority coos and exclaims in excitement as they hurry to the dancefloor, some taking their partners along with them.

“Look, they’re playing your favorite song.” 

Your head snaps to the side in reflex to see who it was, only to see Jungkook. Words get caught in your tongue for a moment, a bit surprised to see him. You mean – sure, he’s been here for a while. It is Nayeon’s wedding, after all, but weirdly enough, you two haven’t shared a conversation yet throughout the day. 

Until now, anyway.

Recovering from your initial surprise, you scoot over to the side, giving him space to maybe… sit beside you? 

“That’s not my favorite song.” You scoff, sipping on your champagne right after, looking right ahead as you feel Jungkook situating himself on the chair beside you.

“Oh… has it changed now?” Jungkook says, and there’s a lilt of teasing tone to it that you look at him in wonder. 

Meeting his gaze, you find he’s just smiling at you. He’s in an off-white tux, a lily pinned on his chest pocket. He’s done his hair in that usual way he cleans up for formal events like this, gelled and parted slightly off center to show off his forehead. It’s slightly longer than you’ve last noticed it looked, and you think he hasn’t been trimming it… 

Nonetheless, he looks simply put… dashing. 

“I change my favorite song every five to seven business days,” you say coolly. “Anyway, why aren’t you there?” you point to where the flock of people is having a ball to Billy Joel.

Truthfully, you kind of wish you were there as well. You’ve always danced to that song in your room or in the shower.

“I’m right where I want to be,” Jungkook shrugs. “Why aren’t you there?” 

You lie, “I’m right where I want to be as well.” 

He hums. “You don’t want to show them your moves?” 

You look at him in disbelief, gawking at him. “Are you teasing me?” 

Jungkook widens his eyes, but you know he knows what you’re talking about, and it sounds like he’s trying to keep from laughing when he says, “No. I just happen to know you’re a great dancer.” 

With that, you feel yourself getting carried away by how easily your conversation goes. It makes you think about the old times – where talking to him always made your day because he's funny and he makes you laugh and you make him laugh.

“Fuck off. You know very well I have two left feet.” You chuckle, shaking your head at him.

“Wasn’t the case when you were dancing inside a boiler room during med school at that rave party we went to, but okay.”  

You can’t help but laugh louder, and with that, you jab a lighthearted slap to his bicep without thinking too much of it. 

“I told you that never happened.” 

“Oh…” Jungkook puts down his champagne and cocks his head to the side. “What happened?” 

You giggle. Yes, giggle. Like a schoolgirl. And you watch as Jungkook joins in your laughter, taking the glass close to his face to sip from it. 

Then: “You wanna dance?” Jungkook suddenly says, but he’s looking at the dancefloor. 

“Hm. Dunno. Uptown Girl isn’t exactly rave music.” 

That earns you a chuckle from Jungkook. “But it’s fun music, right?” 

Soon after, he stands up from his seat. You look at him questioningly, but he mirrors it back with an expectant gaze and a raised brow. Seeing you getting apprehensive, he offers his hand and that’s when you roll your eyes, taking his hand as you pretend to stand up against your will and follow him to the crowd.

You chuckle as Jungkook suddenly sways his hips to the upbeat of the song, moving his arms around playfully. You’d like to think he’s doing that intentionally – to make you laugh? Loosen up? Whatever the idea behind it, it’s effective, because you can’t stop laughing as you watch him. 

“Come on, we do this all the time!” Jungkook says over the loud music and people’s candid chattering.

And he’s not wrong because you do have mini parties in the living room of your apartment, pretending like the city before the glass wall across the area is your audience. 

But you two are usually drunk during those moments, and right now, with only one glass of champagne, you’re not near being tipsy. 

“This is so silly!” You exclaim, but you find yourself matching Jungkook’s spontaneous choreography, and it earns you a laugh from him as well. 

“And when she’s walking, she’s looking so fi-i-ne,” Jungkook sings along, gesturing to you. You cover your face because you can’t stop laughing at how he looks – how you two must look – but you’re almost sure nobody’s paying attention because everybody is just having fun on their own. He has a good voice, though – even though he’s trying to act goofy with it. Jungkook doesn’t like when people point it out, or more like, gets shy when you bring it up. 

Suddenly, he steps closer to you and reaches for your hand. Looking at him with confusion, still with that wide grin on your face, he gives you a playful smile before he guides your arm upwards. You utter a sound of a delighted snort, understanding where he’s getting at. With Jungkook guiding you, you do a mildly successful turn that makes you both laugh because as you were just getting back in your original position, you almost trip. Good thing that Jungkook’s there to catch you by the waist, the contact only lasting for a brief second before he lets go to dance on his own again. 

“I wish I was an uptown girl!” You yell over the music.

“You’re kinda an uptown girl if you think about it.” Jungkook responds, nodding his head as if he believes that. 

You chuckle, shaking your head at him. “No.” 

“Yes, you are. You’re sophisticated and elegant.”

“Well, this—” you point between your bodies, “– is not very sophisticated and elegant of me.” 

“Touché.” Jungkook laughs.

“But will you be my downtown man?” You say, not really thinking too much about it but then you suddenly realize what you just said and you’re about to add something to it – like putting a disclaimer that it was just a joke. 

But then Jungkook leans closer, ducks down to level with your ear. “I can be if you want me to.” 

The song ends and you barely had time to process what just happened before the soft piano progression of Carole King’s Will You Love Me Tomorrow begins to play. 

You hear the collective “Aww”s from the audience and you watch as everybody suddenly pairs up with someone else. As the first lyric of the song is sung, you can feel the upbeat energy from earlier dropping to a calmer atmosphere. Romantic, you’d say it is.

When you look at Jungkook again, he has a small smile on his face. It’s as gentle as the piano behind the song. 

“Can I?” He says. 

You nibble on your bottom lip. “You want to?”

Jungkook only nods, still smiling.

“Only if you want to as well.” 

You look around again. It’s not hard to spot Taehyung from afar on the dancefloor as well, with a gorgeous Hyerin in his arms. He doesn’t seem to notice you looking, though, but you watch the way he ducks down to whisper something in her ear, prompting a laugh from her. 

Putting your gaze back to Jungkook, you blink as you say, “It’s… okay, I guess.” 

“Okay?” Jungkook clarifies. You nod your head and he smiles that dashing smile again before he steps closer to you.

Slowly, he puts a hand around your waist. And you know he did it awhile ago, but the contact ended so briefly that you didn’t really have the chance to… somehow… savor it, maybe? But right now, as you fumble with your own hand, deciding whether or not you should put a hand on his waist as well, the proximity makes your breath hitch. 

Your heart beats abnormally fast against your ribcage, and usually, it’s not hard to stare Jungkook in the face – but you find it a difficult task to do nowadays. 

Jungkook, unsuspecting of your inner dilemma, only seems to notice your confusion with your hand placement, chuckling as he guides your wrist to his shoulder. He raises his other arm with yours and interlocks your fingers with his mid-air.

“There,” Jungkook says once you’re in the right position. “Now we look like professional dancers.” 

You wince. “What’s the next step?” 

“You’re taking this very seriously,” Jungkook snorts as he begins to move his feet. 

You try to match his pace, and that distracts you from the fact that you're so close you can smell his cologne very well. 

“Where did you learn this?” You ask instead, quite amazed at how Jungkook is approaching this. It’s not like you’ve never slow danced in your life – but you weren’t kidding when you said you have two left feet. 

“Wikihow.” 

“Wow.” 

“They can be super reliable at times,” Jungkook chuckles as he continues to swing you both gently. “Stop looking down.” 

You groan. “Ugh, no. I’m trying very hard not to not step on you.”

“So what if you step on me? Just relax.” 

Jutting your bottom lip out, you look up at him. “My heels are Louboutin.” 

“Even better.” 

“Stop.” You break away from his hold with your other hand to jab at his chest lightly. Jungkook lets out an “Owe!” but you know it didn’t actually hurt when he just grins down at you, placing his hand on your waist instead so now he’s just… simply holding you.

You ignore the weird feeling in your chest at the action, choosing to keep your hand on his chest. 

“You wanna know something?” You whisper. Jungkook hums. “I didn’t go to prom in highschool.” 

“What? Why?” Jungkook genuinely seems surprised to hear that.

You smile sadly, looking back at the memory bitterly. “Changsub and I were fighting around that time because I saw him at the mall with some girl the previous week. I was so angry that I didn’t care about what I’d be missing out on. My mom tried really hard to get me to attend, but I was very stubborn. Now I still regret not going to prom. My dress was really pretty back then too but I didn't even get to wear it.” 

“Damn,” Jungkook utters. “He really was such a dick to you, huh?” 

“Yeah. But it was still on me, though… I can’t believe I let a boy make me miss out on prom night.” You pout.

Jungkook’s quiet for a while before he abruptly stops his swaying. You look at him in confusion as he lets go of your waist. 

“Well, I don’t have a corsage… but this can maybe do?” He fumbles with his chest first before he takes out the silk lavender handkerchief from his suit’s pocket that matches his tie and the lily on his chest. He looks at you for a while before he takes your wrist in his hand. Your brows knit together as he ties the fabric around your wrist, making sure to finish it up with a ribbon – an attempt at a ribbon, that is. 

You chuckle. “What’s this?” 

Jungkook grins. “You wanna know something too? I didn’t have a date on prom night – was too scared to ask anybody out. I went home after the first hour. Wasn’t really a fond memory. So, prom night definitely sucked for me… what I’m saying is that, it’s not really all that.” 

You duck your head down to laugh, partly to hide the flutter in your heart at his words.

“So, like, is this our – what – our upgraded prom night?” 

Jungkook nods proudly. He takes both your hands as you laugh, wrapping them around his neck, taking you by the waist again. 

This time, you don’t feel like your breath is being taken away.

You feel… serene. The beating of your heart is back to normal. You realize, there’s a sense of comfort that comes from being close to him like this – talking and laughing like good old times. 

You miss him. You miss him so much and you can’t believe you ever considered accepting a life without him in it. 

“The dress looks good on you, by the way,” Jungkook comments, and it sounds so sincere that you can’t help but smile. As if that wasn’t enough to melt your heart, he adds, “And you look really beautiful.” 

“T-thanks,” you stammer, taken aback at the almost intimate way he looks right into your eyes as he said that. You tighten your hold around his neck. “You don’t look so bad yourself.” 

“Thank you.” 

You both chuckle, though there was nothing really funny said in particular.

Carole King’s gentle voice soothes you as Jungkook takes the lead of the dance. You’re not even doing anything other than just going with the flow, letting him take you wherever. There’s a moment when you were sure you stepped on his shoe, but Jungkook’s quick to dismiss you with a hush and saying it was nothing. 

Tonight with words unspoken,

You say that I’m the only one

But will my heart be broken,

When the night meets the morning sun

You scoff as you finally hear the lyrics.

That may have taken a hit on you. 

“This is so stupid.” You say.

Jungkook’s quick to react.

“Rude. I’m literally giving you a prom night from scratch.”

You look at him and you feel bad because he genuinely seems offended at your supposedly throw-away comment.

Shaking your head, you tap his chest lightly. “No, no. I mean– the lyrics. The song.”

Jungkook arches a brow. “I have a video of you crying over this song in your car when it came up on your playlist.” 

“I didn’t cry over this song.” You roll your eyes. 

“Not as much as you did over Silver Springs, anyway.” 

“Oh my god, why do you know so much, Jesus,” you hiss, embarrassed at being confronted by your dramatic antics. “I just meant, why are they playing such a sad song at a wedding? Who approved this?” 

“Eh,” Jungkook shrugs. “Maybe Nayeon’s a Carole King fan.” 

“Is she?” you ask, genuinely curious. If she is, she never told anybody.

“Maybe…?” 

You can’t help but laugh because of how the conversation progressed. Jungkook laughs as well, and he takes the jab you send to his chest with a light hand. They’re really hard, you think, and you don’t know what comes over you as you lean your head down and let your body fall towards him, laying your cheek on the lapel of his suit. It’s warm.

You feel Jungkook stilling in his position at your sudden action, but soon enough, he does nothing to pry you off like you feared for a moment he would, tightening his arms around your waist and swinging you both in that kind of laxed way. 

Shutting your eyes close, you let the soft melody of the song ease your nerves, basking in Jungkook’s presence and his familiar scent. 

You stay like that for a while, and just when the song is coming to an end, you feel Jungkook’s breathe in your ears, his lips almost brushing to the tips of your ears when he says, “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything back then, but I really miss you too.” 

You drank more champagne than you anticipated and it’s why you wobble your way into the bathroom to do some half-ass retouch. Just as when you were putting away your make-up, Nayeon comes out from one of the cubicles. 

“Hey, you gorgeous, gorgeous girl,” She says with a huge smile, now changed into a much simpler dress, in contrast to her voluminous one earlier.

You mirror her grin, opening your arms wide to engulf her in a hug. “Hi to you too. Congrats again on the wedding. I’m so incredibly happy for you. You and Minhyuk are perfect.” 

When Nayeon breaks apart from your hug, she looks at you closely. “I saw you with Jungkook earlier. Lots of people saw you two earlier.” 

“What?” 

“I mean… slow dancing to Will You Love Me Tomorrow in a weirdly intimate way was kind of insane, if you ask me.” 

“Oh, uhm…” you feel blood rushing to your cheeks as you grow embarrassed at the thought of people catching you in that position. You remember after the song ended, you made up some excuse about going to the bathroom to pee and you did – but you pointedly tried to stay out of Jungkook’s sight ever since.

One step forward, three steps back.

“How are you two by the way?” 

“We’re fine.” You say, giving her a reassuring smile. 

Nayeon stares at you for a moment. Then, she sighs. “You’re not, are you?”

“No, we really are. We’re– we’re talking, right?” You point out.

“But… he’s moving out of your place.”

“Well, he needs a change of scenery. He’s been there for four years so he must be tired living there.” 

Nayeon stares at you again and when you look at her face, your heart twinges as you see the disappointment written all over her features. 

“I don’t understand you both, really. You have this… this beautiful thing going on and you’re choosing to ignore that? It’s obvious that you feel something for him, __. Just be honest with him and see where it goes. I know you two are pretending that everything’s fine but you’re both hurting each other and you’re acting like it’s nothing – it’s all just unnecessary angst at this point. What are you two doing?” Nayeon asks. 

“I…”

“Come on, __. Do you really want to let each other go? Do you really want to drift apart? Because it’s been almost a month of pussyfooting. And I don’t know if you’re just expecting that your luck is not gonna run out, but it is going to. And I know you’re going to regret it.” 

You stare at Nayeon while listening to her words. You don’t expect the sharp edges to her voice. You’ve always thought that if someone was going to call you out on your bullshit – it was going to be Doyeon. She’s the bluntest in the group and would not hesitate to tell someone if they’re being a bitch or not – so you don’t expect Nayeon to be like this at all because she’s always been a soft-spoken sweetheart.

It's not like Doyeon hasn’t been harsh, either, though. You had a drink with her and Taehyung a month ago and let’s just say she kind of ranted about you feeling like you’re in a romcom or something. 

She shuts her eyes close, and you can just feel her frustration emanating. “I’m sorry – I know I’m being harsh right now. But I just can’t bear seeing you two like this. I just got married today and I feel like I’m learning and realizing so much right now and one of those is that I’m extremely lucky to have found someone I’m so sure of, and while Minhyuk was saying his vows I looked back at my past relationships and just thought that… that I’m so glad I was finally at that point and… and right now I can’t stop thinking about you two,” Nayeon sighs. “You two love each other so much. Everybody can see it. Why are you both running away from each other? What gives?” 

You look away.

You both do love each other. They are right.

And while you can’t exactly say if what you feel for Jungkook right now bounds in being in love – there’s quite literally only one thing in the world that you’re certain of, and it’s that he’s the most important person to you – the only one you can think of spending a lifetime with and not get sick of it.

And that was something.

But…

“Because it’s scary.” You say, finally.

“What’s scary?”

You inhale a sharo breath.

“For eight years I’ve always thought that we were only platonic. But somewhere in my head I always thought that he was my soulmate, you know? I thought about us ending up together and I remember liking that thought. But years went by, and nothing ever happened and I swear I was happy with Eunwoo but you know what I’m ashamed of all this time that I never told anybody?” Your vision of Nayeon gets blurry as you begin tearing up. “I think… I have been in denial for so long. I think… I think I secretly looked for a part of Jungkook in Eunwoo and I think Eunwoo knew that. I think everybody who I’ve ever been with knew that except for myself. Because I was in denial. Even right now, I’m still in denial. You don’t know how – you don’t know how strange it is to suddenly wake up and realize that you don’t see your friend as a mere friend anymore. You don’t know how hard it is to overthink things – like what if it doesn’t work out and everything falls apart? Our friendship is so important to me, I hold it in the highest regard, and I don’t want anything to ever go against it. But now I’m doing that myself and I just… I hate it. But I don’t know what to do. Jungkook’s moving out just like it seems like he’s moving on and I’m scared that I’m too late to do anything.” 

Your speech leaves Nayeon’s mouth agape, clearly not expecting your outburst. But she recovers quickly. She steps closer in front of you, and in a second, engulfs you in a hug. 

“I’m sorry,” you sniff, making sure to not let your tears fall down her dress. “I think I’ve been keeping that for a long time.”

“It’s okay… I’m glad you said that.” 

“Yeah… I think I’m glad too,” you both chuckle. 

“__?”

You hum.

“Just talk to Jungkook. If you’re worried about him moving out, he’s not. I can tell you that much.” 

You break the hug and look at Nayeon. “Nayeon, he literally has everything packed. I think he’s leaving early in the morning tomorrow.”

Nayeon fixes a strand of stray hairs from your hair framing your face. “Hm. He has?” You nod. “Well, as I said, he’s not leaving. Trust me. But you have to tell him everything that you told me just now. Be honest, __. It feels scary right now but, try to take a leap of faith, okay? This is not some toxic positivity shit or anything like that, but just be honest, alright?” 

Nibbling on your bottom lip, you look at her hesitantly. “Are you… are you sure?” 

Nayeon nods, and she looks so sure of herself that it may have fired up a little bit of hope in you. 

The party is still ongoing, but you decide that it’s time for you to clock out. After you bid your goodbyes to Nayeon and her now husband, to Doyeon and to Taehyung, you head out of the venue to try and book a taxi. You couldn’t find Jungkook earlier at the party, so you decided to send him a text that says you were going home. 

“Need a ride?” 

The ever-familiar voice expectedly appears to be Jungkook when you look at him. 

“Hey,” you greet. “No. I was just about to book an Uber.” 

Jungkook’s brows furrow. You think he looks handsome under the moonlight. “We can ride together in my car. I’m going home as well.”

“N-no, no, ‘s really fine,” you wave your hand, emphasizing your point. 

Jungkook grows more confused. Then: “Are you drunk?” 

You wince, hating that he instantly knows right away. 

“Sorta, kinda…” 

“And you want to Uber?” You pout. You hear him scoff. “There’s no way I’m leaving you alone in this state. Okay, let’s get you to my car.” 

“I’m fine, really,” you say but it sounds whiny even to your ears. 

“You can be stubborn all you want. But in the passenger’s seat.” Jungkook gives you a sharp stare, but his hold on your wrist is gentle as he guides you to the parking lot. 

He wears the seatbelt around your waist and lets you settle on your seat, rounding the car to get behind the wheel right after. You look away. You thought he'd be more... not nice to you since you just left him earlier with a poor excuse.

You feel guilty. So guilty. Jungkook is so... he makes you feel so loved but you're just... so confused. You're so scared it doesn't even make sense.

When he starts the engine, he asks, “Why did you drink so much?” 

It's easy to ignore the heavy thoughts in your head when you're half-asleep at this point.

“I dunno. The champagne was so good… I bet it was probably expensive. I can’t have that much free stuff until –” you stop, as if remembering something, sitting upright. “When is Taehyung’s wedding?” 

“He doesn’t have a wedding, ba—__. He hasn’t proposed to Hyerin yet.” 

You slump in your chair hearing that. 

“Why? They’re so perfect together… they should marry…” You say before dropping back down to your seat again. The AC in Jungkook’s car whirrs softly in your ear, and when you look to the side, you find yourself staring at his side profile.

He’s taken off his white coat, now left with a white shirt and his purple tie. He’s pushed the sleeves up to his forearms, showing the veins all over them.

“Jungkook.” you call him.

“What is it?” He says, momentarily looking at you before focusing back on the road.

“Can I…” you look at his hand. You sniff. “Can I hold your hand?”

Well, he does not expect that at all. But he smiles anyway, taking off one hand on the wheel and reaching for your own hand over the center console. You watch the way his huge palm dwarfs your own, and you almost sigh in relief when he laces his fingers with yours, squeezing your hand as he rests it over his thigh.

The last thing you hear is Jungkook’s soft chuckle before you completely drift off to sleep. 

When you awake, you’re in your room. Seconds after regaining consciousness, you notice the banging in your head – and when you blearily open your eyes, reaching around for your phone, you don’t find it. 

Groaning, you stand up from your bed, realizing you’re now in a shirt and some pajamas. But weirdly enough, you seem to still have your bra on.

You peek through the inside of your shirt and alas, the white lace of your bra from last night’s event welcomes you, and when you stretch the waistband of your shorts to check on your panties, you still adorn the pair of white thong, which means only one thing. 

You haven’t changed completely out of the garments you’ve worn to Nayeon’s wedding and you wonder how it all happened. When you look to the side, your clutch is placed on the nightstand and so you grab it, relieved to find your phone there. 

Shockingly, you read it’s only over 2 am. 

With furrowed brows, you go over to the mirror to check your ensemble. Your face isn’t and doesn't feel as heavy with make-up as it was back at the venue, and you’re definitely dressed down now. 

You remember passing out in Jungkook’s car after he insisted that you ride with him… and everything had been a blur since then. 

Suddenly, an idea goes into your head. 

Did Jungkook… change your clothes and remove your make-up? That’s the only plausible thing that you can consider because you honestly don’t remember ever dressing yourself or going to the bathroom to remove your make-up. And if you did change out of the gown, you would've opted out of your underwear as well. 

Maybe Jungkook did all that. 

And the thought makes you smile. But it drops just as quickly. 

You head towards your door and go straight knocking on Jungkook’s bedroom. 

You don’t expect him to be awake at this point, but when you hear steps coming your way and the doorknob clicking, you stare at Jungkook wide-eyed when he welcomes you with his presence behind the door.

“Hey,” He greets, predictably surprised to see you. “You’re awake.”

“Yeah…” your eyes don’t mean to subtly roam his room. Then that’s when you catch it. The bags lying around his bedroom floor and the neatly piled boxes to the side. Your eyebrows meet each other. “You’re packing?” 

Jungkook nods. “I’m leaving tomorrow, I told you that, didn’t I?” 

“Y-you did, yeah.” You stammer, blinking at him. You suddenly feel like throwing up. “Well, I just came to thank you for…” you trail off, gesturing to your clothes.

Seemingly getting what you mean, Jungkook’s lips curl up into a coy smile. “I hope you don’t mind. I tried to wake you up, but you were complaining about your dress when you were sleeping…”

“Yeah… I’m glad you took it off.” You wince. “That sounds wrong. Anyway, the make-up, too. I have to ask, did I throw up on you?” 

Jungkook laughs, incredulous. “No, no, you didn’t. Are you seriously worried about that?” 

“I just feel bad.” You give him a tight-lipped smile. 

“It’s okay. You should sleep now, it’s late. Do you have a shift tomorrow– or later, actually.” 

“Yeah, I do. But it’s the evening shift. So. You?” 

“I have the morning until three in the afternoon.” 

Nodding, you ask, “Are you leaving at three then? I mean, to your new place?”

“Yeah. Will just pass by here to get some of my stuff.”

You try to look for something on his face. But Jungkook looks casual at best. Now you remember what Nayeon told you. Was she lying when she said you’re going to convince Jungkook not to move out? Because from the looks of it, Jungkook doesn’t seem like anything would budge him from leaving tomorrow. He seems so set on a mission, and you can’t lie and say that it doesn’t break your heart. 

You find yourself thinking about the events at the reception party. How he threw you a quick prom, told you you were beautiful… how he said he missed you. 

Was that all a lie? Just something he said to avoid some sort of dead air? 

Because if he truly misses you, then why would he leave? 

You find yourself getting annoyed. 

“I’ll be back to my room.” You say to get out of the situation. You notice Jungkook getting taken aback by the change of your tone, even more so when you turn on your heels quickly to take the two strides it takes you to your own bedroom. 

In there, you throw yourself on the mattress, the impact affecting you a little bit. You must still be drunk because you feel your vision getting blurry a bit but as you quickly shut and open your eyes, everything goes back to normal. 

You sigh. 

Well, maybe you’re actually meant to be alone and it’s true that you’re not meant for any romantic relationships. You’ll die alone and you’ll just have to deal with the heartbreaks you went through your whole life. 

A stray tear escapes your eye, and you quickly raise the back of your hand to wipe at it. You glare at the wall dividing your and Jungkook’s rooms, finding it annoying that you’re not really mad at him. It’d be so easy if you were mad at him… but you have no reason to.

But why is he so stubborn? Why isn’t he saying anything? Can he just… can it just be him who takes the leap of faith, so you won’t have to? You know that’s unfair, though. It’s juvenile. 

In a burst of courage, you take one pillow from your bed and stomp your way out of your bedroom, finding yourself in front of Jungkook’s room again and knocking. 

He opens it, rightfully surprised to see you again. “H-hey, __, I thought—”

“Can I sleep here?” 

You can see the way his face contorts into confusion. “What?” 

“Can I sleep in your room?” You reiterate, but you’re already forcing your way in. You throw your pillow on his own heap of dark ones, frowning when you see the bags on the floor. “Are you just going to pack forever? You’ve been packing since yesterday.”

Your clipped tone throws Jungkook off a little bit, but he doesn’t point that out, though, when he speaks. “No. I’m actually done now.” 

“Okay? Well, then, let’s sleep.” You say, staring at him. He looks stoned in his position from the edge of the bed, so utterly confused. 

“Are you… still drunk?” 

“What? No.”

“O… kay?” Jungkook looks extra cautious when he seats himself on the mattress by your feet. “Are you sure?” 

“About what?”

“I don’t know. About not being drunk and… sleeping here.” 

“Yeah,” you answer, pointing out the obvious. “Why are you acting like we haven’t had sleepovers before? You used to sleep in my room when there was a spider in your closet.” 

Jungkook makes a face. “It was a huge spider.” 

You roll your eyes, going into a lying position, making sure to leave some space for him on the side. “Jungkook.” 

“Okay, I’m going. So demanding.” 

He playfully clicks his tongue as he lays on the bed as well, sliding his body across the mattress. He doesn’t expect the way you take his arm to spread it on your side of the bed, and you don’t let him say another word when you lay your head on it, keeping your hands close to your chest as you snuggle beside him. 

You could feel there was a moment there that Jungkook stiffened for a bit, but he relaxes just as quickly, feeling him caress your head tentatively as if feeling you out before he goes for it completely. 

“This is what you’re gonna be missing out on when you move out.” you mumble.

You’re grateful when he only says: “Hm?”

“Nothing.” You open your eyes and because of the close proximity, your eyes are at the level of the side view of his chest, and you see the way his thin white shirt clings to his body, rising up and down with his breathing. “I saw your keys earlier. I’m glad you like the Claddagh.” 

Jungkook laughs. “The Claddagh, huh? I knew you knew what that keychain meant,” You frown when you realize you were supposed to pretend you didn’t know that. Oh, well, he figured you out right away, anyway. “I really like it, by the way. It was very thoughtful,” Jungkook says. You can’t see him in your position, but you just know he has a smile on his face. He sounds like it. 

“Thank you. I thought about gifting you a watch… but watches are expensive, so…” You decide to joke, and Jungkook laughs which makes you smile. 

“I would choose the Claddagh any day. I just… I really like it. I interpreted it as a deep sense of belonging and shared history, and I’ve known you for eight years, so that seems very fitting. I’m glad you chose to give me that.” 

It was also a reminder of your relationship. Your love for each other. The loyalty that lies in its foundation, and how you’ve managed to build that over the years. Jungkook’s ultimately your soulmate – that you’re sure of – even though that’s a bit of a cliche and you don’t exactly believe in it entirely. A bit of a conflict, really, since you’re a hopeless romantic. 

But you’ve long known that you and Jungkook are more than just friends. You trust and respect each other beyond words – and it’s more than what you could say about your previous romantic partners. Sure, there was that sense of admiration for one another with your ex-boyfriends, but Jungkook is different. He’s always been different. 

You’ve known that all along – but it’s only now that you decided to read between the lines. 

And you want to tell him that. So badly. But you choose to let the gentle tips of his fingers lull you to that comfortable annexe of warmth, easing you from overwhelming thoughts. 

Has Jungkook always felt like the embodiment of comfort for you? Has he always felt like everything good you can imagine having in your life?

Then, you feel him lean down to the top of your head. “You smell so nice. You aren’t my soulmate after all.” 

That makes you violently crane your neck up to look at him. “What?”

“There was this article that Tae sent to me. It was from Cosmo, I think. It says you’re not supposed to be able to smell your soulmate.” He says, looking so serious that you can’t figure if he’s bullshitting you.

You lean on your elbow so you can look down properly at him, saying, “That’s not even plausible. Since when was Cosmo reliable to you? That’s ridiculous. We literally have four hundred different types of olfactory receptors which help us perceive various smells – I mean, unless you’ve damaged them somehow, or there’s a disruption in your signal transduction, or you’re anosmic – which I know you’re not – then I don’t think that’s true.” 

Jungkook laughs and you can’t help but frown. 

“It made sense, okay? If you ignore the science stuff.”

“You’re a doctor.” You quickly counter.

He rolls his eyes. “I mean, for the record, I believe in the existence of extraterrestrial life, so that’s that.”

“Ugh,” you flop down on the bed again, falling back on Jungkook’s body. He scoots closer to hold you close against him, which you welcome casually. You don’t even know how you got this comfortable, but you’re glad either way. He feels so big and warm. “Are you going to show me that Youtube video of top ten UFO sightings around the world again?” 

“You don’t think that Nebraska one looked very real?” Jungkook says with disbelief.

“No,” you turn to Jungkook only to find him already looking at you. “They were college boys, Jungkook. They probably just turned nineteen or something. Have you seen their eyes in the video? It was pixelated as hell, but if I were that high—”

Jungkook suddenly snorts, effectively cutting you off. “Ohh, if you were that high?”

You jab at his chest which only makes him laugh louder. 

“I tried my first weed with you.” You pout.

Jungkook catches the stray hair that falls from behind your ear and hides it back there again as he says, “You coughed nonstop and had a sore-throat the next day. You have baby lungs.” 

You roll your eyes and go back to lying on his arm. “Whatever. All of that still doesn’t justify that we’re not soulmates.” 

“The concept of soulmates doesn’t even have a scientific explanation.” Jungkook chuckles. 

“No…? But there's psychological research about it; the attachment theory, look it up.” 

“There’s also cognitive dissonance.” Jungkook pitches in. 

“That’s so mean!” You gasp, but you know Jungkook’s only teasing when you see that he’s got that huge stupid grin on his face.

He apologizes in between his laughter, squeezing your waist a bit before he says, “Okay, okay. But what if you’re my soulmate, but I’m not yours?” 

“That’s not how soulmate-ism works. Isn’t it nice to think that there’s like a system to it? Like if you’re my soulmate, then that would automatically make me your soulmate. It doesn’t make sense otherwise.” Your eyebrows knit together as you explain.

“I guess you’re right…” Then you hear him letting out a loud sigh. “For what it's worth, I think I’d be really happy if I was your soulmate.”

You smile against his pec after he says the words. 

You like Jeon Jungkook. You like him so much it’s starting to feel unbearable.

There’s silence that hangs in the air for some time before you look up at Jungkook alarmingly. “Kook.” He doesn’t say anything. You lean on your elbow again to peer down at him, only to see that he’s now closed his eyes. “Jungkook.” 

Finally, he stirs. But his eyes are still closed. “Hm?”

“Don’t sleep yet.” 

“Uh-huh.” He gives your waist a brief squeeze again.

“I’m watching you.” 

He chuckles. “What is it?” 

“Let’s talk more.” 

“How are you still not sleepy?” 

“Because…” you drop your head down to his chest this time. “I want to know if you could ever —” you shrug, staring at his ceiling. “—cannibalize someone.”

“I like this. Conversation’s getting raunchy,” You hear him snorting through his breath. “Is this your pillowtalk?” 

“Yes.” 

“In that case, that’s an interesting question. I have never really thought about that.”  

“Really? Never?” 

“I’ve never been in any situation where I had to think about that, thank god.”

You laugh together. “Okay, but if you really had to, would you?” 

“I don’t know… I’m a huge germaphobe, you know that. But I guess humans inherently have indomitable spirits and that conditions us to do whatever it takes to ensure our survival under extreme conditions. I don’t think I’m beyond that.”   

You nod against his chest. Mindlessly, you start tracing random lines over his shirt, and you wait for Jungkook to pry your hand off or say something to stop you or ask you what you’re doing, but he doesn’t really say anything. 

“It’s fascinating, right? The way we can just alter our brains and mindsets when we’re put under certain conditions. It’s amazing and weird at the same time how we work psychologically.” 

“Exactly.” You feel Jungkook nodding. 

“This is– of course this is not an extreme condition where I have to cannibalize someone,” you chuckle, which earns the same thing from Jungkook. You continue, “but you know when you’re experiencing a heartbreak and you think it’s the end of the world but then you wake up one day and suddenly you’re fine? 

When Jungkook turns quiet, you know you’ve touched on a subject that feels personal. 

You sigh. “I broke up with Mingyu awhile ago.” 

“Oh.”

You hum. “Yeah… like a month ago?”

“Ah. I had a hunch.”

“But you didn’t ask,” you smile. “Well, anyway I just want you to know.” 

Silence.

Then, “Do you feel… do you feel sad about it?” 

“That’s what’s weird,” you say. “Because I don’t necessarily feel sad about the break-up, or the relationship. But it’s more like – the thought of breaking up with somebody again.” You chuckle, but there’s no humor to it. “I feel like you can only take so many break-ups in your life before you completely give up on love, you know? And it’s like… I don’t even get it… I mean, I’m decent, aren’t I? I can hold up a conversation, I make sense, I have a good job, and I don’t look bad – although, maybe that’s what’s wrong all along?” You swallow the lump in your throat. “Am I ugly?” 

“Hey,” Jungkook calls, and you feel him rising from his lying position just as you feel tears slowly streaming down your face. 

You scold yourself for it – because what the hell even is this about? Just earlier you were talking about cannibalism and now you’re tearing up. Your emotions are all over the place, and it doesn’t help that Jungkook’s quick to dote on you, guiding your back as you both sit on the bed instead.

You inhale a sharp breath. “Look at me, I’m a mess,” you look at him through blurry eyes, hoping to look apologetic at the very least for barging in his room at fuckass o’clock and disturbing his packing and not noticing that he’s been in love with you for the past eight years. God, you want to say sorry for a lot of things. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m crying, it’s not that deep.” 

“If it’s bothering you then it’s a big deal. And I’m looking right at you,” Jungkook wraps an arm around your shoulders as he looks you in the eyes. “I’m looking at you and you’re beautiful, you’re intelligent, and you’re the funniest person on Earth I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. I’m so glad I met you.” 

“Well… do you still feel that way when I only ever seem to come to you when I wanna vent or cry?” You ask, attempting to joke, but your voice breaks at the end.

It cracks a smile on Jungkook’s face though. “That’s not true at all. You also come to annoy me.” 

Your laughter turns into a sob and that’s when Jungkook wraps an arm around your shoulder to pull you close to his side, letting your head fall to his bicep and resting his chin on top of yours. It’s a barely-there gesture, but you’re pretty sure you feel him kiss the crown of your head. 

“I know… I know we still have a lot to talk about, __. That we’re glossing over the important things. But I want to say sorry. I never said sorry about what happened back at the resort. For Mingyu. For doing what we did. I never said sorry about bombarding you with all those things and for taking so long to talk to you just because I was scared. But right now, I’m saying sorry. I have been completely unfair to you all this time.” 

You quickly get out of his hold to look up at him. “No, you—” 

“Just…” Jungkook cuts you off. “Just let me, okay? I know you’re gonna say none if it was my fault but you’re right about what you said. You’re right about doubting my feelings for you.” 

“Jungkook…”

He nods. “I was in denial for the most part about my feelings for you. Ever since that thing happened with Jiyeon in college, I found it hard to trust somebody again. I slept around in my last year of college because it made me feel good about myself, made me think I was desirable and that someone cheating on me doesn’t mean shit when I had all those women who willingly slept with me. I was like that during my first year in med school, too. Couldn't really get serious with somebody because – because what if they do the same thing again?” Jungkook smiles bitterly. “And then… I met you. It started out as a crush and I was so sure it wasn’t going to be more than that, but then, we were in almost the same classes and we became friends,” Jungkook looks at you fondly and you almost melt in his arms. “And then I found myself liking you, and then I fell hard – really fucking hard,” he chuckles to himself. “It was during spring break of second year when I realized I was fucked and that I was in love with my best friend.” 

“S-spring break?” You whisper, not sure what he meant. 

“You don’t remember it?” Jungkook asks. He looks over your face and suddenly he’s caressing your cheek with his fingers. He swipes his thumb over it, wiping a stray tear away. He smiles before he says, “I caught the flu that time. I called you, but you were over at your parents. Then the next day I woke up and you were at my place telling me to take care of my health because how can I study medicine when my immune system is shit.”

“Oh, that…” you trail off. Suddenly, the fragments of that time become clear to you. The flu wasn’t that bad, only took him three days to fully recover.

“Yeah. But then that was also the time when you told me Eunwoo asked you to be his girlfriend and that you said yes.” 

You inhale a shaky breath.

“I– I tried to forget about my feelings, because I didn’t want to harbor all those feelings for you when you already had a boyfriend. I went to all those dates in the hopes that I could feel something from someone. I tried to date Sora. It was good. It was a good partnership. But then… Eunwoo proposed, and I don’t know – I guess I deluded myself so bad that I have fully moved on from you since then – but then I was faced with the reality that you were going to spend your life with somebody else and I didn’t know how to deal with it. I was so bad at handling my emotions. So stupid. Sora broke up with me because she figured I love you.” 

You stare at him with your mouth agape. You would've never guessed why they broke up. You always thought they were so perfect for each other… 

“And yeah, the break-up with Eunwoo happened and it took you two years to heal. I didn’t want to make a move because I simply didn’t want to be that kind of guy who takes advantage of a woman’s vulnerability after a break-up, you know? And we moved in together two years ago and…” You wait as he trails off. “I guess I just got comfortable with our set-up.” 

“How do you mean?”

“It was like, everything I imagined us to be. Living together, sharing everything together. I thought no one could take that away from me, even if I didn’t ask you out. I’m not telling you to believe it, but I wasn’t with a lot of women for the past two years… yeah, sure, I dated them very briefly, but it was out of genuine attempt to find somebody for myself because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship by confessing. Being your best friend was and still is more important to me than being your boyfriend. I couldn’t care less how I can have you; I want you in any way – and if that meant being your platonic friend the rest of our time, then I was that. I am that. Even now.”

You can’t find your words. You’ve imagined your talk countless times in your head, but they all fell short to give you a taste of what the real thing would be like. 

“So… I’m sorry. I’m sorry for keeping my feelings for nearly eight years. I’m sorry I kept something important to you about Mingyu. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner. Just… I apologize. I feel like I broke your trust.” 

It’s quiet for a while before you break the silence.

“Jungkook,” You call him. He meets your gaze. It’s soft and it’s sweet and you realize he’s always looked at you like that. How could you have not noticed? “You’re very important to me.” 

“I’m glad.” He smiles. A small one that makes him look all boyish. The urge to keep him in your pocket even though he’s much bigger than you becomes huge.

“And I want you in any way, too.” You say, staring intently at him. 

You watch as Jungkook stares back at you. There’s an agonizing stretch of seconds when you see his eyes darting down from your eyes to your lips, and you don’t mean to bite the bottom one, suddenly feeling the thick tension rising in the air.

“Can I hug you?” You swallow the lump in your throat. 

“I would really love that.” 

You don’t know how it happens, but the last thing you see is Jungkook’s wall clock pointing to 3:15 am before you let your eyes rest.

[ READ BELOW ]

this chapter is not over yet! tumblr has a 1k paragraph/block limit in a single post and so i can't put the whole thing in this. please look thru the reblogs to read the last scene of the chapter and the EPILOGUE or click on this [ link ]