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sketchguk · 1 year ago

Text

part time lover; jjk

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

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

➵ word count: 30.8k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Has she been listening all along?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you think about this guy?”

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

“Okay, then what about this one?”

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

“How about her? She’s pretty, right?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jeongguk. His name is Jeongguk.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How the hell is he going to raise a child?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dammit. He’s cute.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey!” Minji shouts in defense of herself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s complicated,” Jeongguk begins.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll do it.”

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

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

“y/n!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ouch. That hurts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And he’s hot!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“‘m sorry, ‘m sorry!” You apologize.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

After all, this is just pretend.

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

Too bad Jeon Jeongguk is anything but that.

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

As it seems, fate has other plans.

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

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

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

The heavy downpour of rain patters against the windows.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What about your brother?” Jeongguk inquires.

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

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

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

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

“Eomma?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This is still practice… right?

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

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

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

“Oh, it’s nothing.” He’s bashful.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jeongguk is late.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

“y/n, how big is your boyfriend?”

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

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

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

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

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

You, yourself, nearly choke on your own drink.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jeongguk- Love?”

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

“I know this sounds silly-” you begin.

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

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

“Go on,” he urges. “Tell me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“M- maybe we could hold hands?”

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

Your breath hitches in your throat.

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

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

“Can I suggest something?”

You nod, agreeing. “Anything.”

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

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

“Then can I hold you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So you do.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“C- can I?” you stutter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Subconsciously, you raise your arms to cover your chest.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Guk- love, I-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How’s it, angel?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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ahundredtimesover · 10 months ago

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I Want You to Stay (07) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: boss!JK x assistant!reader; idiot strangers to lovers; slow slow burn; k-drama feels; angst, drama, fluff, smut

Chapter (Series) Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, unhealthy coping mechanisms; family drama; minor injuries; power dynamics (JK starts off as a jerk); work-related anxiety, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; childhood traumatic experiences, nightmares; sexual harassment, prior incidence of domestic violence (PLS PLS BE CAREFUL WHEN READING); arts and business/property devt talk that’s probably inaccurate; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters; cold and detached JK; eventual explicit sexual content (specific warnings stated per chapter) (18+)

Chapter Word count: 15.4k

Series Masterlist

Status: Ongoing

Series summary: Working for Jungkook isn’t the same as working for Hoseok. For starters, Jungkook doesn’t smile, he doesn’t appreciate you, and he gives you too much work. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly handsome and has women at his beck and call. But as the tension grows, it becomes impossible to resist him. You’ve dedicated yourself to your job for 8 years so when you finally decide to put yourself first, he asks you to reconsider. And while you know that leaving is difficult, you learn that when it comes to Jungkook, staying is always so much harder.

Playlist 🎶: on the way home

A/N: One of my fave chapters! I hope you like this one! And just a heads up that intervals between posting days will be longer as the chapters get longer, too. And bc u know, life... HAHA but again, thank you so much for all the love for this like??? HOW. PLS you've all been so nice so thank you! 🥰 Also… JK in that SNTY suit.

And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight 🥰

PS. If I can’t tag you, pls fix your settings!

Mr. Ri loads the luggages in the trunk and you double check that all bags - which you helped pack yesterday - are complete. You enter the car right after and head to the airport where Jungkook will fly to Singapore for a few meetings and to attend Seokjin’s alcohol launch party.

It’s been over a month since the Arts Center event and so much has happened since then. Jungkook went to Jeju to meet an artist and then to Japan over a weekend to meet another two. He’s been on calls with a few more with plans to meet in their country of residence in the next months, and he’s gone around different local towns to meet with craftspeople for souvenirs and future exhibitions. He’s also touched base with various national and international Korean arts and culture organizations for promotion and joint projects. The event opened doors for a new network that he hoped for. There are now proposals for other collaborations and side engagements that’s doing a lot for the company’s brand and expansion.

To say that Jungkook and the team have been busy is an understatement. You went back to work after those few days of recovering with everyone overwhelmed by all the things they had to do but like you expected, you all managed and got things organized. There are still multiple things to handle all at once, but everyone’s just been on top of everything and showing how competent you all are as individuals and as a team.

Within that period, Jungkook has stopped by the team’s office and the pantry more times than those first months. He also managed to laugh at Do-hyun’s unfiltered remarks a few times and even slipped his own that got the team giggling. He’s seemed a lot more relaxed and so has the team. Lunch meetings have been regular given all the work you all have to do. Yohan and Chin-sun even say that they’ve gotten to know Jungkook a little better through their visits to the Arts Center. And while they do think he’s still a bit detached and catch him in his own world sometimes, he’s a lot more engaged and is actually way smarter than they’d initially thought.

Jungkook checks his phone and sighs, prompting you to turn to him.

“Seokjin says the party is an intimate event but there’s gonna be over two-fifty guests so I don’t know about that,” he shakes his head, showing you the restaurant bar where his friend will be launching his alcohol brand. “For some reason, he expects me and Tae to entertain guests on his behalf.”

This was another development you hadn’t expected. Since that morning when Jungkook sent you food when you were unwell, your relationship changed. It’s still professional but there’s more openness now, as if that prompted both of you to be comfortable around each other.

There’s more trust and honesty, too - he lets you make decisions, lets you handle the team when he’s away, and asks you for your unfiltered opinion. You feel like all the time you spend together has allowed you to learn how he sees and understands things; you even finish his sentences sometimes.

He’s also loosened up a bit and allows himself to laugh and smile more. They’re still rare occurrences but you never point them out, not wanting him to feel awkward and then stop. They often catch you off guard so you haven’t been able to fully appreciate them but at least he feels comfortable around you, enough to even talk about non-work stuff and things that fill his mind, like random questions or small concerns.

You’re unsure if he notices how uninhibited he’s become but you don’t point it out either. He still has his moments of living in his head, his faraway thoughts rendering him quiet and observant, and his perfectionist attitude means he’s still critical sometimes. But he doesn’t take anything out on you - not his frustrations nor his fears. He’d usually keep to himself and talk to you once he’s cooled down and you’d take that any day, so long as you keep your sanity and are able to do your tasks as instructed.

In return, you let yourself be the same. You’ve fully restored your confidence and that’s allowed you to show just how capable you are. You’ve been more vocal with your thoughts, too, and don’t take it personally when he doesn’t agree. You smile a lot more, joke with him even, and have been more generous with words of encouragement and affirmation. They come more naturally than you expected, and you appreciate that he doesn’t turn you away whenever it happens.

He’s actually okay to be around when he’s not being grumpy or difficult. You suppose that the situations he was put in - and how you responded with patience and understanding - allowed him to see that you’re truly on his side and that let him put his guard down a little. You’re past trying to please him for the sake of making your job bearable; there’s actual joy in it now, and while the search for who you are outside of all this continues to ring in your head, you think that sticking around for now isn’t so bad either.

“Perhaps Seokjin has seen how good you are with entertaining guests now and deems you worthy of being an extension of him,” you respond to Jungkook’s earlier musings. “And he wouldn’t be wrong. You’ve become really good at it.”

“You know, I think you oversell me sometimes,” he chuckles.

“Hmm, I think I don’t,” you counter. “If I may say so, Mr. Jeon, it's just that the bar was pretty low so the improvements are quite striking.”

“Fair enough,” he laughs, not taking offense.

“You can still do better at charming people. Maybe you can learn a thing or two from Seokjin and Taehyung,” you push.

“Those two flirt, they don’t charm,” he playfully rolls his eyes.

“Well, I completely disagree, sir. I mean, I’ve seen it firsthand. And I’m not one who’s easily charmed.”

“Fine, I’ll see what I can pick from them, then,” he concedes.

“Kidding aside, I think you’ll be fine, Mr. Jeon. Plus, it’s unrelated to work so there’s no need to impress anyone,” you state.

“True,” he hums. “But just thinking about these next few days is already making me tired. Tae rented a yacht for tonight. We have Seokjin’s launch tomorrow, and to celebrate, he’s throwing another party the day after.”

“Hmm, must be that you’re getting old,” you tease, earning you a hum in agreement. “But you’re used to that though, right? They always said that was your life back in Singapore.”

“It was. I had less responsibilities and people to manage but back then, everything seemed too much,” he shares. “I took the weekends seriously and really just did whatever I wanted. I haven’t done much of that these past weeks because I’ve been so tired and I feel like I’m under the microscope when I’m here. So yeah, I’ll probably just take advantage of being back there and just enjoy it.”

“As you should,” you say. “You’ve worked hard and you deserve to spend your weekend however you wish. Just, uh…”

“What?”

“Probably give Lucas a heads-up in case a half-naked woman greets him in the kitchen on Monday morning.”

The silence is deafening and you think you’ve crossed a line with this one. You turn towards him and he looks stunned at your unfiltered remark.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Jeon,” you bow in apology. “That was too personal.”

“It’s okay,” he responds after a beat of silence. “I guess I deserve that. I mean, I never apologized for the morning when you experienced exactly that. And for when you found that underwear on the floor, which I forgot to clean up. So, uh. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, too. I got over it,” you assure him. “And if anything, I’m pretty sure she left that on purpose so she’ll have a reason to come back.”

“That’s exactly it,” he groans. “She saw me again and wanted to go to my apartment so she could get it. I told her I threw it away.”

“How brutal,” you tease again.

“Not my finest moment but yeah, I’m sorry to put you in that position. Must’ve been tough seeing proof of all the washroom gossip.”

“You know about those?” You gasp.

“I’ve heard about them,” he sighs. “Mr. Ri’s got eyes and ears in the office.”

“It’s hard to defend so I just don’t try,” the older man shakes his head. “Not like you deny it anyway.”

“Not like I really care,” Jungkook shrugs. “But even then, I guess it wasn’t the best start for us,” he tells you.

“Perhaps not, but I’m not one to judge, Mr. Jeon. That’s all in the past now, and that feels like a lifetime ago.”

“It does,” he hums.

It’s during these casual exchanges when you get to see a bit more of Jungkook as the person that he is, beyond the perfectionist executive who still harbors fears and worries about his new role. He’s still a human being who finds ways to deal with the stresses of life, someone who needs time to step away from his burdensome responsibilities, someone who seeks intimacy and connection and finds ways to attain them in his own ways. The doubts and worries are still there, but the foundation has stabled a bit. Somehow you think that you’ve created a space safe enough for him to talk about them, to apologize, and to try to be better. You hope he gets to create that for himself, too, and if that’s what you’ll leave him with by the time you decide to step away from this job, you think you’d be satisfied.

Silence engulfs you both and like he often is after being vulnerable with you, he keeps to himself once again. You wait a while before running through his meetings for today and next week and inform him of what the team will be working on while he’s away. Jungkook responds with a few last-minute instructions, especially about the tasks he needs done in time for your team meeting on Monday. You’re both back to professional talk and you don’t really mind; there’s something about being honest and open that could be a bit disarming.

The car stops and Mr. Ri exits to retrieve the luggage from the trunk. Jungkook, in his navy blue suit, gathers his things and says goodbye. Before he can close the door, you call out his name.

“Yeah?” He asks, his one hand carrying his bag and the other, on the roof of the car as he bends to look at you.

“Happy birthday,” you say. “I know you think it’s just an ordinary day but I hope you celebrate well.”

“Thank you,” he says after a few seconds, basking in the softness of your smile for the short moment that he can.

Jungkook steps away then closes the door. He heads to the airport lounge before taking the 6-hour flight to Singapore, spending it on reviewing reports and design proposals. He goes straight to the office when he lands, settling down in his room where he responds to emails. He munches on some dumplings for lunch, thinking he’s missed the ones from the restaurant across the street, but then Lucas enters and sets down a bowl of seaweed soup.

“Ms. Cho asked me to get this for you, Mr. Jeon.”

Jungkook is caught off guard but manages to dismiss Lucas and tastes the dish. It’s nothing like his mother’s, but then again, he hasn’t had it in years. When Jungkook moved here, there were no celebrations apart from getting drunk at a club, which is also why he’d stopped thinking of his birthday as anything special. There were no traditional meals or well wishes or birthday cakes.

He’s here again. There’s that yacht party tonight but it won’t feel like a celebration. Somehow, with this bowl of soup, this does. You’re a thousand miles away but even then, he still feels your presence. Even then, he feels more cared for than he has these past several years combined.

Jungkook wakes up the next morning with a splitting headache. His neck feels a bit strained, given that he’d slept in an awkward position wearing his clothes from last night. He also barely remembers much. One minute he was drinking with a woman around his arm and the next he’s… here.

He shifts and lays flat on his back, groaning as last night’s happenings manifest in the soreness of his entire body. The yacht was fancy, as he’d expected from his best friends. There was overflowing food and drinks, the music was great, and the guests were honestly too many for his liking. There were familiar faces and new ones, but he mostly stuck around with those he knew. What he also remembers is not being able to taste his cake. He’s definitely calling Seokjin to complain.

Suddenly hit with the thought of not knowing how he’d gotten home last night - or with whom - Jungkook sits up and groans once more, the incoming call adding to the ringing sound in his head.

“Mr. Jeon,” Lucas answers on the other end. “How are you feeling today?”

“Terrible,” Jungkook says, now finding the strength to get off the bed. “Did you take me home?”

“Yes, sir. You wanted to leave so Mr. Ri and I took you to your penthouse,” Lucas answers. “Your valuables are on the table.”

Jungkook sighs, knowing it was one of those nights. Removing his clothes, he sees the fresh marks on his chest. Wanting to prepare himself before finding some stranger in the other room, he asks his assistant if he’d brought someone home with him.

“No, sir. It was just you. She, uh, she asked to come but you told her you were too tired so she stayed behind.”

“Oh, good,” Jungkook exhales in relief, not wanting to deal with any of that this morning, which is one reason why he always asks them to leave. “How long do I have until I have to get ready for tonight?”

“About five hours,” the younger man replies. “You have a scheduled dinner with your friends at 5:30 and then the event at 8. I’ll be there before that to help you get ready.”

“Alright, thanks. I’ll just workout to deal with this hangover.”

“Medicines are in the cupboard, sir. Please just let me know if there’s anything more you need.”

“I will.”

Jungkook hangs up and presses on his temples as if that’ll do anything. He retrieves the medicine as advised and thinks of something else he needs - a cup of lemon ginger tea. Ever since you’d prepared one for him that one morning, he’s been having it after every night out. He calls the butler to have it prepared for him, given that he doesn’t have the energy to do so himself.

It arrives, and coupled with the aspirin, he’s starting to somehow feel better. He knows that heading to the gym will do the trick, as it always does, but it still makes him think that he shouldn’t have drank as much as he did last night.

For someone who’s not particularly fond of people, even Jungkook sometimes wonders why he goes out and parties as much as he does.

He wasn’t always like this though. His weekends used to be spent on food trips and travels, but after the breakup with Chaerin, those days became free, and he’d stay out late so he could sleep the rest of the next day. The women were to make up for the loneliness; the alcohol was to forget why he needed them in the first place. He hates loud and unnecessary sounds, but the music and the chatter started to become white noise for him; they’d become a companion to help deal with the noise in his own head, or the lack of it.

Years later, the remaining thoughts in his mind were just all about work, and he’d revert to the same habit for relief - the women became his thrill; the alcohol was so he wouldn’t remember them.

And it works. The ecstasy lasts only through the night. It’s fleeting as his desire for them is. He doesn’t recall names, just that they made him feel good and that they felt the same; they often try to hook up with him again after all, seeking him in the clubs they know he frequents. But he rarely entertains them; a second time leads to a third, and he can’t be assured that they won’t ask the same tiring questions he hates hearing - why doesn’t he have a girlfriend? Why doesn’t he want to commit to anyone? Does he see himself settling down and having a family? What’ll make him want that?

It’s happened a few times, during the rare instances that there’s a lull in between and they take advantage of his brief period of vulnerability to make him open up. He never does, and it’s not because he thinks it’s a weakness to do so, but he just never really let the moment linger to find out.

After a light meal, Jungkook heads to the gym and spends three hours expending his energy so he could get it back.

This is his other means of dealing with his stress. Working out makes him focus on something else and it helps in releasing all his anger and frustration. As he stares at his bare body in the mirror right after - the marks from last night still visible - he scoffs at himself.

He’s so stereotypical, it makes him sick. He’s allowed himself to let his life revolve around the shallow and fleeting sensations of pleasure to counter the permanence and inevitability of his job. This is his world and he made it this way. And while he drowns in the nothingness inside the walls that he created, he still thinks it’s better than being outside; somehow he thinks it’s lonelier and more burdensome out there. At least in here, he’s all he has to deal with; he’s all he can disappoint.

But there are still moments when he wonders what it could be like if he just dared to live differently. Like when he watches Seokjin animatedly explain the history and creation process of Korean traditional alcohol during the product launch that evening and how his passion is moving and infectious. Or when he observes how Taehyung freely moves around the club and makes connections with others as deep as his smile.

Jungkook thinks about all this as he glances at the woman next to him later that night, bare under the covers like he is, her body curled into a cocoon as she takes a break.

She’d caught his eye earlier because she wasn’t trying to get his attention like the others were. She spoke less and screamed more, let him do what he wanted but touched him softly as she pleased.

“You’re a good lover. Why do you waste yourself with something temporary like me?” She’d asked.

It left him speechless and he shrugged - a change from his usual dismissal - but there’s really nothing to say.

Why does he? He doesn’t know. He doesn’t want to.

But it’s at this moment that he tries to imagine what it would be like if it were the same face he saw next to him every morning, if it were the same hand he held everyday, if it were the same warm body he curled into every night. His mind wanders too far, into the depths of a place it can’t go to, beyond boundaries he can’t cross, and the sight is both terrifying and calming.

It’s safer where he is.

So when she wakes up from a short nap, she looks up at him, her soft eyes wishing for something she knows she shouldn’t.

“You should go,” he says, the softest he’s ever uttered the words.

“Okay,” she whispers in submission.

She gets up from the bed, finds her stray clothes on the floor, and puts them on. Jungkook follows her to the door, a first for him. Maybe it’s her gentleness, or the unspoken understanding between them, or maybe because she doesn’t ask for more even if she seems to want to.

But though he contemplates pulling her back to try to feel what that’s like - seeing her in the morning, holding her hand, curling into her embrace - he doesn’t. He knows even that desire would end; it’s fleeting just as everything around him is.

He holds open the door. She turns around with a smile.

“I hope someday you find someone you’ll ask to stay,” she says, surprising him again. “I’m sure they would.”

You walk around the store in awe of the luscious plants displayed on the shelves, your eyes as bright as the lights that shine over them. There are so many to choose from, and though you have an idea of what you want to have, it’s tough deciding which ones to get right now. The money tree is a must, so is the Chinese evergreen. But do you go for the orchid or the peace lily? Can you keep up with a spider plant? How many of the asparagus ferns should you get?

Your eyes flit from one plant to the next, eventually deciding on getting everything on your list then placing them on the cart for payment.

Jimin chuckles next to you. “Since when were you a plant mom?”

“Since she got that aloe vera from Yoongi and she was convinced that she has a green thumb after it didn’t die,” Soomin deadpans next to you as you frown at her sarcasm. “That’s also after my weekly reminders to water the plant because ‘no care’ doesn’t actually mean it’s going to survive on its own.”

“Oh, shush,” you scoff at her. “You told me I was doing a good job.”

“You’d send a photo every few days, hun,” she laughs. “What else was I supposed to say?”

“True. I needed the encouragement,” you shrug, paying for your haul. “But also, I’m a plant newbie. Yoongi said that I probably need some of them at home and in the office for positive energy and he’s not wrong. All the frustration from months ago just accumulated in my apartment and I need a change.”

“So… Is Yoongi a plant dad, too?” Soomin wonders.

“No. He just knows about a lot of things,” you reply. “Plus, he’s an architect and a designer. He knows a thing or two about plant decor.”

“Why isn’t he here with you, then?” She arches an eyebrow.

“Because I’m with both of you, duh,” you roll your eyes. “And before you say anything more, I don’t really like mixing my work friends with my personal friends. It’s different.”

“Well, I’m glad we could join you on this new phase of your life,” Jimin tries to be encouraging. “It’s like turning over a new leaf.”

You scold him over his terrible pun but laugh anyway, enjoying the comfort and playfulness that only your best friends could bring. They picked you up from work last Friday then you all headed to a club after dinner. You spent yesterday at a beach at their insistence then stayed in during the evening. It’s now Sunday and you’re dragging them around as you run errands before saying goodbye to them again, and it’s not a normal day without Soomin mentioning Yoongi. Perhaps it’s because of all the guys you’ve mentioned that have taken interest in you, he’s the only true green flag; he’s also the only one you didn’t entertain at all. You suppose that’s something she’ll not really get over.

The three of you head to a nearby cafe. Jimin excitedly talks about the latest menu item in their chain of restaurants while Soomin groans about the stuff she has to deal with as she manages her family-owned shipping company that’s the biggest in the port city of Busan. They turn to you and ask how the rest of your week is going to go, with slightly surprised looks when you don’t talk about work with as much disdain as you used to. There’s excitement, even, something that Soomin points out, and when you mention that Jungkook is on an overseas trip, she assumes that’s the reason why.

“Not really,” you clarify. “He arrives tomorrow evening, but the week’s packed - we’re visiting the Arts Center for inspection and then I’m doing an ocular with Chin-sun for the VP events we’re holding in the next few months. I mean, I won’t be buried in files nor will I be in meetings all week. So yeah, it’s not bad.”

“That’s good,” Jimin beams. “At least it’s nothing like how it used to be. Right?”

“It’s a lot better, I told you guys,” you say, reminding them of a similar talk you had the last time they were here, which was a week after you’d gotten sick. “Jungkook is… rational, less grumpy and impulsive; he also listens to me and trusts me. He’s even smiled a few times.”

“Wow, he really set the bar low for you, huh,” Jimin chuckles, earning him a nod.

“Does that also mean that he’s now completely bearable and no longer your type because he’s not an asshole anymore?” Soomin chimes in, being the blunt and bold one among the three of you.

“He never was my type in the first place,” you scowl. “Plus, he’s literally my boss, Soo. That’s like, not some flag, it’s a whole ass brick wall that shall not be crossed.”

“Right. That’s why Mr. Min didn’t make the cut,” she points out. “Told you you should’ve just quit your job so you could date him.”

“And I also told you that wasn’t the only reason why I didn’t want to,” you remind her. “Yoongi’s exactly the type of person I need in my life, and being more than friends is the surefire way of making sure that doesn’t happen. Like, why would I risk a good friendship for something that may not work out? Whether I break his heart or he breaks mine, it’s pain I can’t handle. There’s just no going back from there.”

“Right, that is your biggest fear,” Soomin replies softly, the sympathetic tone in her voice telling you that she does understand where you’re coming from. “I mean, it’s still possible that you wouldn’t hurt each other but I get it. It just sucks, I guess. The good ones often start as your friends.”

“I know. And I’d rather have them and be single than none at all,” you sigh.

The thought is simpler than it seems. You won’t deny that you’ve thought of how things would’ve been if you gave Yoongi a chance, but the fear of what you’d lose always trumped that type of possibility.

There’s a kind of pain you don’t want to experience, one of a broken heart caused by losing someone you’ve given your all to. It’s how you think you love, after all; you can’t give any less. But it’s also why you’ve never done it. No one’s inspired that kind of devotion for you.

Soomin has pointed out before that it’s probably also because you don’t open yourself up to the possibilities as you should. Maybe you’ve just been too focused on other things. But maybe you also just haven’t felt the kind of all-consuming desire for someone who would be worth it, one you’d want so much that you’d willingly face the fear of paralyzing heartbreak just to be with them.

You suppose that’s the difference. That’s the irony, too. You’re scared to love because you’re scared of the pain, so you keep your distance to keep yourself safe but it’s also why you haven’t found someone you’re willing to crawl out of your walls for.

There’s not much you feel passionate about in life. Maybe it’s love. But you’re too cautious to feel it, to look for it, so you don’t really know. Maybe it’s something else completely, and working in the environment that you do hinders you from discovering it. You’ve kept your distance from a lot of things over the past years and the thought that one day, you’ll be able to feel free from all the burden you carry because of a past you couldn’t control, makes you look forward to the day when you get to walk away from all those and hopefully, find whatever it is you’re looking for.

Jimin nudges you after you zone out, and you switch the subject and ask about the latest gossip in their hometown. You enjoy living vicariously through their social life back in Busan. They not only come out here to Seoul to see you but also to take a break from all the drama that they can’t really escape from, given the type of people in their circle of friends. You always thank the heavens you got lucky that at 10 years old and making a new life in a new city, you found Soomin and Jimin, perhaps the only other people aside from your mother who make you feel safe and protected, a feeling you don’t take for granted.

They indulge you and share some stories, but when Soomin goes through her social media feed to show you something, she gasps instead when she realizes that the men in her friend’s Instagram post include Jungkook.

“Did your boss just go there to party?” She asks, showing you the photo.

“Partly,” you reply. “His best friend hosted the launch of his alcohol line there but there are a couple more parties because it’s his birthday weekend. Your friends went?”

“Yeah, some of them are Kim Seokjin’s friends, apparently,” Soomin says. “Small world. But then again, I shouldn’t be surprised. Seoul and Busan socialites attract each other.”

“Why aren’t you there, then?” You chuckle.

“We’re choosy socialites,” Jimin clarifies. “Or like, pretentious. We just act like we are but we really aren’t, just to say that the Park and Cheon kids are interesting and sociable like the rest of them.”

“Who says they’re interesting and sociable?” Soomin states incredulously. “My eyes roll to the back of my head every time I’m in those shitty events. The lack of self-awareness of rich people repulses me. And I obviously don’t count us in.”

“And you shouldn’t,” you confirm. “I attract good people, I guess. I’m glad you’re not like them.”

“Well, what about Jungkook’s friends?” Jimin asks. “How are they like?”

“What I can say about the Kim brothers is that they’re nice people,” you say. “Very charming, ridiculously good-looking... And they sound like good friends, too. I can’t say much else. Their dating game is pretty strong though.”

“I’d assume. I mean, when you look like that, how could you not be?” Soomin states. “I mean, even Jungkook’s on point. That’s some hot girl he’s got.”

She shows you a couple of Instagram stories from her friends posting about the launch party. It turns out, there were a lot of Korea-based personalities who were invited. You spot Jungkook immediately, wearing the all-white ensemble that you packed for him the other day. His hair is a bit curled and the knitted top underneath the simple coat highlights his taut physique. There’s also that gorgeous woman around his arms, and if what you know about him is enough, you’d guess she’s probably one of those he seeks for a good time.

The sight of him loosening up a bit and enjoying himself is something you appreciate. He’s always stressed when he’s here and you’re glad he could spend a few days partying elsewhere without having to think about work, especially during the week of his birthday. You don’t know how much of this aspect of his life he enjoys, but he does seem a bit free yet still somehow detached. You suppose that’s something he’ll always be - a man trying to live his life while separating himself from the meaning of it. You’re unsure of how he does it but perhaps it’s not that different from how you are, too.

After lunch, Soomin and Jimin do a few more of your errands with you before dropping you home and then heading back to theirs. You spend the rest of the evening arranging your plants in your tiny apartment and feeling like more life is breathed into it with every one of them finding their home in a corner or on a shelf. Oddly enough, you feel a bit less lonely. That’s how you think you’ve been doing things, after all - finding substitutes for the kind of company you’re yearning for, for the kind of relationship you’re so afraid to have.

Jungkook wakes up that Monday morning feeling a lot better than he did the days before. For one, there’s no ringing in his head nor the feeling of dehydration. Bare under his soft covers, there also aren’t any fresh marks on his chest that signify the kind of night he usually has. In fact, he remembers most of it - he stayed by the bar and briefly chatted with the women who’d approached him.

Suzy was there last night, too, the only one he’s hooked up with more than once, and probably the only one he’s had proper conversations with, given that she’s a landscape designer. She’s been away on business trips and had just gone back, her bluntness about going back to his apartment that she’s too familiar with being met with a rejection that she didn't take personally.

“Has Seoul changed you?” She asked, her eyebrow arched in anticipation of his reply.

“Do you think a place would do that to me?” He laughed.

“No, but a person would,” she shrugged.

“None of that,” he shook his head. “There’s no one. I’m too busy, too tired.”

“But not too lonely?” she asked. “It’s the only reason why you would call me.”

There was no bitterness in her words but still, he asked. “And why did you always come, then?”

“To see if each time would be good enough for you to not make me leave.”

The conversation took a turn that he didn’t expect, the usual honesty in her words being too honest for him. He fumbled for something to say but she shook him off, claiming that she knew what she was getting into every time he took her home and that constantly hoping for something doesn’t guarantee that she’d get it one day.

He drank a couple of glasses of whiskey after she left but managed to call his butler for a sandwich and lemon ginger tea in time for his arrival at his penthouse. The meal did the trick, as he’d slept soundly after a warm bath without a splitting headache and regrets the next day.

It’s Monday, after all, and it’s back to work as usual. He has a few meetings to attend before flying back to Seoul, one of which is with the team. He gathers the energy to get off the bed for a half-hour exercise before getting ready. He eats the breakfast that the butler orders for him then heads to the office where he briefly meets with Lucas.

Settled on his desk, he proceeds to virtually meet with the team, who all promptly greet him from the conference room. He asks how their weekend was, with most of them looking surprised because he rarely asks them about it, but they answer anyway. That’s when he notices that you’re not around, prompting him to look for you.

“I’m here, Mr. Jeon,” you answer off camera before appearing on screen with a candle-lit cake in your hands.

He’s surprised when the team sings him a happy birthday, your eyes fixed on him as you mouth the words with a soft smile on your face. Do-hyun giggles at his silence, saying that he probably forgot it was his birthday or he maybe didn’t expect that they’d prepare something for him.

“We like you now, Mr. Jeon,” she teases, earning him a nudge from Chin-sun but she doesn’t seem to mind and neither does he.

It’s what makes him laugh, hoping that the pink on his cheeks aren’t visible on screen. He hadn’t expected this. He also knows he doesn’t deserve it, but he’d bet that you had everything to do with this.

“You’ve probably been too busy to celebrate but we haven’t forgotten. More like, Ms. Cho made sure we remembered,” Manager Lee chuckles. “We hope you enjoy this little something we prepared.”

“It’s an ice cream cake so it’ll just be in your refrigerator and you can have some when you return,” you say.

“Thank you,” he finally manages to say. “You didn’t have to but I appreciate it. I’m looking forward to having some when I get back. Ms. Cho should also buy another one big enough for the team to share.”

You nod in acknowledgment of his instruction before starting with the meeting. There’s a lot to talk about, given the Arts Center construction and activities, as well as the upcoming year-end events that they have to organize and coordinate. It goes on for over two hours and it ends with your gentle smile after he says goodbye.

The rest of the day feels too long for Jungkook, especially during the late afternoon flight and eventual ride home. He stares at the photo you sent of the cake, making sure he sees the greeting on it.

“Get home safely, Mr. Jeon,” you text him after he says thanks. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

With the reminders of the impermanence of things and people this weekend, Jungkook finds comfort in the stability that you provide. It’s in your smile, in your reminders and organization of his life, in your thoughtfulness and patience. It’s in the assurance that tomorrow is another day, one in which he gets to see you once again.

The cake is simple but sophisticated. The mint chocolate flavor is exactly how he likes it and in ice cream cake form, it’s really delicious. He’s glad he gets to have this all for himself, as the team was able to enjoy one yesterday as per his instruction, and you’d sent a group photo of everyone enjoying it to him, the small smile that formed on his face no longer surprising him.

For one, the comfort is there. He’s seen just how much better the team is working together because of it - they’re more open to giving him feedback and receiving his, any moment of frustration is easily mended with laughter, and his encouragement and affirmation have been motivating them as well. In the midst of it is you who makes sure that communication flows smoothly and that everything is on track, acting as the glue that keeps everyone together.

He sees firsthand just how good you are at handling things, and how despite all the stress, you manage to get him seaweed soup and a cake for his birthday. It’s more than just the details regarding work that you’re on top of; it’s also details about his life, and how he’s responding to it tells him that maybe, whatever change there is like what Suzy observed, a big part of it is because of you.

“I’m glad you like it, Mr. Jeon,” your voice cuts through his thoughts.

He looks up and sees you with a portfolio in hand, motioning towards the cake that’s now one fourth eaten.

“Ah, yeah,” he says, not denying it. “I feel like I haven’t had sweets in a while. Where did you buy this?”

“Oh, uh, I asked the baker who made desserts for the Arts Center event if she could make a customized ice cream cake,” you explain. “Fortunately she could. And thankfully it’s delicious. She enjoyed working with us so she gave us a discount.”

“You… had this made for me?”

He’d expected it to be store-bought, but learning you made the effort to reach out to someone reminds him once more of your thoughtfulness, of your care.

“Yes, I, uh, I just assumed you’d receive a few and I thought to give you something a little different.”

“It’s the only one I got actually,” he says, catching you off guard. Your face falls a little so he follows it up. “Like I told you, I don’t celebrate my birthday so I don’t let people know about it. And the ones who do also know that I don’t make a big deal out of it so they don’t really give me anything.”

“Oh,” you say, feeling a little sad.

You’re not one to have big celebrations but you do have a bit of it. For your 30th birthday at the start of the year, Jimin and Soomin threw you a little party in your humble home in Daegu where they performed some of your favorite songs and enacted your favorite drama scenes to make you happy. There was no need for anything fancy - just your loved ones and your mom’s and Min-woo’s amazing cooking.

But even before that milestone, your friends always made sure to at least get you seaweed soup and a birthday cake; they want you to remember that there are lives impacted because you were born. You can’t really say that Jungkook’s impacted your life the same way but you still value his existence; a small cake is just a little something to celebrate that. But the idea that his family and friends pass up on the cake - and perhaps the gifts, too - makes you think that there’s really not much in Jungkook’s life he feels he could share with others, that there’s not much he could give and receive in return.

“I hope I didn’t cross a line if it’s something you don’t like people knowing,” you continue. “I just thought… it would be nice to receive something from us.”

“It actually was,” he admits, his voice soft and low. Turning away, he says, “it’s been a while since I actually thought about my birthday as anything other than ordinary. It’s nice to be reminded sometimes. So thank you, Ms. Cho. For the soup, too. I appreciate it.”

Perhaps it’s his honesty that does it, but you can’t help the smile that forms on your face. If learning how to express gratitude is something you could teach him, you already feel accomplished.

It’s the next day when you find yourself back in Jungkook’s office, staring at the potted plant in your hands. You’ve gone from debating on whether to leave it on his desk or the coffee table, to even giving it at all. You won’t lie and say you didn’t know what you were thinking when you passed by the plant store after work last night to get this specifically for him. You did - you wanted him to feel that joy of receiving a gift, which you suppose doesn’t happen, especially for someone who can literally buy anything he wants.

But still, it doesn’t mean that your good intention will be received well. You’ve given Hoseok a small gift every year for his birthday, partly because he likes receiving them and also because it’s your way of saying thanks.

You want to give this to Jungkook as a form of gratitude, too. Despite how you both started, the amount of things you’ve learned from him and continue to have somehow made up for it, and you also know that he’s learning from you as well. He’s given you agency to make decisions. He’s also given you events and small projects to manage, making you realize it’s what you really enjoy doing. Seeing things come together the way you envisioned it is so satisfying. Perhaps without intending it, Jungkook’s showed you a way out, a path that you want to explore so much that you’re willing to let go of all that you know in this company for something new, for something that feels more like you.

Your thoughts have completely digressed and with the time you took debating and reflecting, you hadn’t heard his footsteps, and so you jerk a little when he calls out your name.

Turning around, you bow in greeting, remembering at the same time that you have something that you’re not 100% sure yet you want to give right now. But as always, he calls you out on it.

“Is that a snake plant?” He asks, walking towards his seat.

“Yes.”

“Is that the one on your desk?”

“Uh, no, actually,” you laugh dryly, knowing you can’t turn back from it now. “I… I meant to give it to you, sir. I just thought that, uh, the money tree on the shelf might be too lonely so I got you a desk plant. I heard it’s good for positive energy and to filter the air.”

“It is,” he hums. “Is that why you got yourself one?”

“I suppose. I figured it could help improve my mood. Yoongi suggested it before but I just kept pushing it back. I finally got some for my apartment last weekend,” you explain, just so he knows it didn’t come out of nowhere.

“And you think this will improve my mood?” He arches an eyebrow.

“Maybe,” you shrug. “We’ll probably need a dozen of them here but we could start with one.”

He matches your soft laughter with his own, which you’re thankful for. He reaches out for the plant, nonchalant like you when your fingers brush against each other.

“Hopefully this will work,” he says as he places the small, white pot next to his desktop.

You leave him so he could prepare for a conference call while you’re set to meet with the marketing team. Jungkook gazes at the plant and notices the little note attached to the string around the stem.

Happy birthday, it reads.

This wasn’t just something to match the money tree that Hoseok left for him that he hasn’t been caring for much. This was a gift for him. You probably assume that if he doesn’t receive birthday cakes, he wouldn’t be receiving gifts, either. And you’d be right. His best friends just throw him parties. And once he left Seoul to obtain his MBA in Singapore and stayed to work in their Southeast Asian headquarters, the distance between him and his parents grew. They’d reach out but he didn’t bother much, so he’d stopped expecting anything. After he broke up with Chaerin, he stopped receiving anything at all. This is the first time he’s gotten something from someone after a long time.

It’s simple in its meaning and honest in its intention, and he doesn’t hold back the smile that forms on his face.

You watch the realization dawn on Jungkook from outside. You’d remembered the silly note you left right as you sat down and didn’t have time to take it back, which really wasn’t much, but you suppose it’s enough to tell him that the plant indeed is a gift. You don’t know if someone like him even receives them, or would even appreciate something so cheap and humble, but the gentle smile he has on tells you that he probably doesn’t get much, but that this is something he welcomes.

Your smile follows soon after but it feels different this time. There’s pride somehow that your little gift could elicit something so rare out of him. There’s also a bit of awe; this is the softest he’s ever looked, with that tinge of gratitude and yearning, a complete contrast to what you know of him, to how you’ve always seen him. It’s… it’s actually beautiful.

And this is when things start to get confusing, especially as your phone beeps with that SMS from him.

[From: The Boss] Thank you, ___.

It’s the non-work message. It’s the use of your name. This is personal for him and you acknowledge that it’s the same for you. Perhaps there’s a reason why you made the effort to get the gift last night, why it mattered to you that he received something to celebrate his birthday, and why seeing him appreciate it the way he does is making you giddy and satisfied at the same time.

Maybe it’s the care you’re starting to feel for him that’s beyond just wanting to make your job bearable. You’ll dissect what that truly means later on, but right now it’s just you, him, and the glass wall in between the both of you. There’s distance, there’s a boundary, but there’s a transparent barrier that allows you to see what’s on the other side, one which allows you to know who he is behind the man you’ve come to know. And you admit, he’s not so bad after all.

The construction of the Arts Center is going better than expected. Given some of the delays due to the wrong materials delivered and some permits that took a while to get, the workers were able to make up some ground, largely due to Jungkook’s supervision. When you both visited a few weeks ago, there were many things to work on, and he managed to identify the priorities and find ways to get the project back on track.

It was during those few days of constantly being on site that you saw how efficient and effective he really works. You admired his precision and attention to detail, how he instructed the team leads and project managers and laborers, how he put together the design of one of the rooms just as he’d envisioned it.

He was commanding and decisive, and you appreciated his thorough and simple explanations that allowed you to keep up with him. He’s said that he wants you to understand what’s happening so that you’re well-informed should you need to communicate to others on his behalf, and what initially intimidated you turned into something you became interested in. Since then, you’ve been watching design shows to help you further. The challenge was welcomed, and now you feel like everyday, you’re learning something new on the job.

His instructions from that time were followed, and you’re back today to inspect the rest of the spaces. Everything is so massive, and with one half of the wall of the performance hall already done, you can clearly see the upgrade. The details are impressive, and the way that the traditional designs merge with modern elements is a feature itself.

You’re immersed in the intricacies of the ceiling, walking towards the wall to get a closer look that you don’t immediately notice the workers walking past you with a massive slab of marble. The moment that you do, you step back too quickly, tripping on your heels, and just as you brace yourself to hit the ground, you instead feel your back against a firm chest, with hands on your elbows breaking your fall.

You sigh in relief, even leaning your head back because nothing could be more embarrassing than falling on your ass in front of many people, including your boss. That is, until the familiar scent of jasmine and bergamot wafts through your nose and you realize that what you just did is debatably more embarrassing than what could’ve happened.

The familiar clearing of the throat is what finally does it for you, and with wide eyes, you turn around and face him to apologize.

“I’m sorry, sir. I—”

“Was so much in awe that you didn’t notice the workers passing by,” he finishes, his slightly teasing smile calming you down.

“Ah, well of course. The details are too pretty,” you reason, stepping back only a little. You look at him shyly. “But thank you. I was about to fall.”

“I know. And I was about to lose it if my assistant got injured on the job.”

“True. It’s bad publicity, I guess,” you shrug. “And distractions could cause delays. And that’s bad, too.”

“Or you know, I simply just can’t have you injured, simple as that,” he says with a little frown on his face.

“Imagine if I didn’t see them? They could’ve dropped the marble and I would’ve completely lost it!”

“Why?” He arches an eyebrow.

“That slab is like, two months’ worth of salary, Mr. Jeon.”

“It’s actually more but that’s not the point,” he fully frowns now. “If you didn’t see them, then they could’ve hit you, and then you would be whining in pain right now. You could’ve gotten seriously hurt, ___.”

His voice is firm and low, and you nod in acknowledgment because you also know he’s right. The workers’ vision was limited but yours wasn’t; you were just too distracted and if you hadn’t pulled early enough, that marble really could’ve done damage to you. And if it wasn’t for Jungkook catching your fall, then something bad still would’ve happened to you.

“But are you okay? You didn’t twist your ankle or anything?” He asks.

“No. Uh, the heel’s just a bit loose but I’m fine,” you reply, still trying to wrap your head around how he’d said your name - informally, in this setting, as he told you that you could’ve gotten hurt. Maybe you weren’t imagining the worried tone of his voice earlier.

“Okay,” he sighs. “You have to be careful next time.”

“I will, sir,” you reply.

You step aside and Jungkook sees you from his peripheral vision as he returns to assessing, staying put and only glancing at the ceiling unlike earlier. He’d seen you marvel at the design of the hall earlier, and while he was initially doing the same, seeing you wide-eyed and impressed caught his attention more.

Many times, he’s seen you look dejected, frustrated, angry. He’s seen your moments of focus and joy, too, but this is the first time he’s seen you be in awe. There was this softness on your face that was still filled with emotion, and he’d been drawn to you enough to see that you were about to fall. He’s glad he has quick reflexes and was able to get to you in time, the worry he felt at the thought of you getting hurt in any way was quite overwhelming for him. And while it’s partly because you’re his responsibility in this case, he also knows it’s more than that.

He gestures moving to another room and you follow him outside, and just as you try to stay close to him, Jungkook also makes sure you’re away from any kind of danger. He moves to your side when there are workers nearby with their heavy equipment and large materials. He shields you from the drilling. He glances at you as you both walk towards the other performance hall. And when you get there, you see the ceiling installation is ongoing, and Jungkook immediately calls for hard hats for the both of you.

He hands you one and you put it on, fumbling with the strap underneath your chin. You groan in frustration when you’re unable to lock it, and that’s when you see him move towards you.

“Let me,” he says.

You stop your movements and shyly nod in agreement, and he waits for you to let go before he fixes it himself.

It’s a little odd being on the other side, since it’s always you who fixes his tie or his coat. But you’re the one watching him now, with his furrowed brows and seriousness in securing this safety gear on you making you feel warm inside.

He steps back then looks at you, trying hard to control his laughter.

“Are you laughing at me, sir?” You pout.

“No. I don’t make fun of people,” he says, turning serious now, but you don’t miss the grin on his face.

It’s unfair that he looks good even with a hard hat on.

One of the project managers calls him and he goes around, with you staying close by. This performance hall is bigger and boasts of a more traditional design, which would hold the cultural performances that the Culture Minister is very excited about. You watch Jungkook inspect the space with thoroughness, checking each wall panel and each seat.

It’s amazing to you just how involved he is with this project even with the project managers handling things relatively well. He wants to be on top of everything, he’s said; it matters too much for him to not know what’s going on.

You see Yoongi enter the room and approach him. Once he sees you, he laughs as well.

“Do I look that bad?” You groan. “Mr. Jeon was laughing at me, too.”

“It’s a little big, and I guess I’m just not used to seeing you in one,” Yoongi shrugs.

“Why don’t you have one?”

“I don’t need it. I’m here all the time and nothing happens.”

“Well, I’ve been here a few times and I almost fell earlier,” you say, recalling the almost-embarrassment.

“I know, I saw it,” he chuckles.

“You were there?!” You gasp.

“No, I was totally in the other room that’s why I witnessed you almost get hit by the marble then trip on yourself,” he deadpans.

“I didn’t see you, that’s all,” you shrug.

“I was by the doors. I checked these spaces yesterday and I just wanted to be around in case Jungkook had new instructions,” he explains. “But I gotta say, you guys were kinda cute earlier.”

“Almost falling on my ass isn’t cute, Min Yoongi,” you scowl. “I could’ve either ruined the marble slab or hurt my bum. Either way, it would’ve been embarrassing.”

“I didn’t mean just you. I meant you guys,” he gestures towards Jungkook. “He caught you, didn’t he?”

“Yes… That was embarrassing, too,” you frown. “What’s cute about that?”

“He looked worried. It’s just not something I’ve seen him be towards other people, that’s all.”

“It’s because an injured employee on site isn’t good, okay? Plus, if I’m incapable, then no one’s gonna be around to make his life easier,” you reason.

Yoongi stares at you for a while before shaking his head. “Wow, you really are dense.”

“I don’t know what you’re on about,” you cross your arms in frustration.

“Forget about it,” Yoongi shakes his head, deciding not to push it.

He’ll tell you another time that he’s glad you’re becoming more of yourself again, that the light has somehow come back, that there’s now comfort you exude around the man you’d once despised. Yoongi feels assured now that there’s someone else who seems to be looking out for you, and that it’s something you don’t seem to mind at all.

“Yah! You’re being all mysterious again!” You pout, something he chuckles about.

“Me? Mysterious? Come on. I’ve always been an open book,” he teases.

You’re just about to nag him again when you hear Jungkook clear his throat, and you turn towards him and ask if he’s already done inspecting.

“There are still a few things I want to run by my design lead before leaving,” Jungkook says. “Please move my meeting to 3PM.”

“That’s noted, sir. I’ll give Mr. Hong’s assistant a call.”

You excuse yourself and step outside, leaving both men alone.

“Angering my assistant, are you?” Jungkook asks Yoongi, the curious yet playful tone in his voice evident.

“Nah, just teasing. That a problem?” Yoongi answers back.

“No. It’s good she has someone she’s comfortable with at work.”

“Could be you, you know? That isn’t so bad,” Yoongi remarks, surprising him. “And it doesn’t cross whatever boundary you’re trying so hard to stay behind.”

“We’re not… on that level. I mean, I don’t know how to be someone other people are comfortable being around,” Jungkook admits.

“I don’t know about that. Seems like you’re already that for her,” Yoongi says. “I was just teasing her about how you guys looked cute earlier, when you broke her fall.”

“You were there?”

“Both of you really don’t notice other people when it’s just both of you, huh,” Yoongi laughs. “But yeah, I was. I saw her relief. And I saw you worry.”

Jungkook merely shrugs, not wanting to confirm. Even if he denies it, Yoongi will still believe what he wants to believe. But the older man knows you well just as much as he knows him.

“You care about her, don’t you?” Yoongi responds to the silence. “And I mean not in a superficial way, or a good boss caring for his employee type of way. Like, you worry when she’s sick or overworking, when she’s hurt or in danger. You want her to always be safe, to get rest. You like having her near. You wanna know that she’s happy.”

“You know I can’t do that,” Jungkook finally answers. “I can’t think of her that way.”

“I know. That’s why you were the way you were,” Yoongi says. “How else do you respond to things you can’t control than through anger and detachment? But just because you shouldn’t, it doesn’t change the fact that you do.”

“It doesn’t change the fact that it’s wrong,” Jungkook counters.

“Well, irrationally calling her out and being angry were wrong, too, and you did those because you weren’t being honest with yourself,” Yoongi argues. “I guess what I’m trying to say is, the least you can do is be true to yourself about how you feel. Because the more you deny, then the more you resist, and when you do that, you end up hurting her. Is that what you want?”

“Of course not.”

“Then just… accept things - what you feel, what you both are, what you can or can’t be.”

Jungkook looks at his friend as if some epiphany had just transpired. It’s been difficult for him to make sense of what he feels around you. There’s always that air of familiarity, but the warmth and comfort are new. There’s the reality that you come from different worlds, but that you both somehow feel and experience and maybe desire the same things. There’s that sense of fear over change and of what he can’t control, yet you somehow provide the calm and stability that he hasn’t felt in a long time.

It’s all these contradictions that have been messing with him, and Yoongi’s right - because of all the times that Jungkook had wanted to create that distance, all it did was hurt you. That’s the last thing he wants, he realizes now. He’s seen you struggle, and even if that’s just a fraction of what you normally go through, it’s enough to tell him that he doesn’t want you to experience that again, especially not because of him. It’s too early to say the extent of his care towards you, and it’s not something he’s willing or ready to explore right now. But just as Jungkook’s about to comfort himself that it’s fine, and that he shouldn’t dwell on it anyway so as not to further nurture it, Yoongi speaks again.

“Just… just a heads up, though,” he adds. “The care that I felt, that’s how it started for me.”

“What started?”

“Me, liking her.”

It’s at that moment when you come back from your call, and you inform Jungkook that the meeting’s been moved and that he has a scheduled one with some of the directors on Monday.

“Alright,” he says, directing you and Yoongi towards the souvenir shop, temporarily disregarding what he was warned about.

“You two looked so serious. Everything okay?” You whisper to your friend.

“Yeah,” Yoongi hums, giving you the most genuine smile he could give.

There’s that sparkle and softness in your eyes that had captured him all those years ago. They dimmed throughout the years and they’ve just been sporadic, illuminating only during specific moments. He’d seen them again a lot more regularly, and even today, as you looked around the halls and admired the designs of the space.

Yoongi doesn’t know if a certain person is the reason for that. He knows you enough that you wouldn’t even notice it, so you definitely wouldn’t know what caused the change. But as your friend, he hopes one day you will, so that if you’re brave enough, too, you’d try to make sure that the light stays.

The inspection ends and you get back to the office at 4. You return to piles of documents you have to sift through and encode, and your original plan of leaving on time changes.

Jungkook spends over an hour talking with Yoongi and the construction lead about the Arts Center, and once that’s over, you see just how exhausted he is. He’s massaging his temples and sighing deeply, and you know that whatever just transpired, he’s going to be thinking about it all throughout the weekend, which he doesn’t really have time for. The gala that one of the Board members throws annually is tomorrow night, an event you’ll be attending with him as well.

You enter his room to remind him about it and to give some forms for his signature. He signs them off, and when you say you’ve got a few more requests that you’ll leave on his desk for Monday, he tells you to just wait until then.

“Go home, Ms. Cho,” he says. “It’s been a long week. And it won’t end until after tomorrow night.”

“What about you, Mr. Jeon?”

“I’ve got some stuff to sort through after inspection. I’ll probably leave in an hour or so.”

You frown, a mannerism of yours that he’s gotten used to seeing. It’s mixed with a pout that often makes him internally laugh because it seems unlike you. It also always means there’s something you want to say that you’re holding back.

“Should I not?” He arches an eyebrow.

“Hmm. Just thinking that it might be better for you to take a rest tonight, too,” you advise. “The gala could be quite draining and it would be good to save your energy for that.”

“I’ll think about it,” he hums.

“Then I’ll think about going home, too,” you answer back.

Jungkook chuckles, knowing you’re always going to counter him in some way. And he’s glad that you do.

“You may go. And get a good rest, too.”

You nod and bid him goodbye, exiting the room to start packing your things. It’s five minutes later when the door opens and you see him with his bag, ready to head home as well.

You smile at his tender doe-eyes as he admits through them that you were right - he doesn’t have a reason to stay behind, so he’ll call it a night and get as much rest as he can.

He pauses by the entryway, and you pick up that he’s waiting for you, perhaps to make sure that you’re indeed going home. You quicken your pace and walk next to him, steps in pace as you both go to the elevator and down to the lobby.

“Mr. Ri can bring you home after me,” Jungkook says. “It’s late already.”

“Not late enough,” you reply. “I’m okay, Mr. Jeon. It’s not necessary.”

He concedes, and you wait for the car to arrive and say goodbye to him again.

There’s a softness on his face as he lingers before he enters. A small smile forms, and it’s what you see until you fall asleep that night. It’s the same one that’s oddly been giving you comfort lately - it’s a little restrained but somehow it still looks vulnerable. Perhaps it represents how Jungkook’s been to you - there are some contradictions, but beyond all that, there’s care.

Mr. Ri happily greets you as you enter the car that late Saturday afternoon to head to Jungkook’s penthouse. He compliments your dress, saying it’s nice to see you in something formal that fits your style - it’s simple yet elegant, and you tell him that your mother wouldn’t stop gushing over you through the screen, nagging you to send full-body photos so she could appreciate you more.

Jimin and Soomin surprised you in the morning to help you fix up, insisting that they wanted to make sure you spoiled yourself for the event. If you wouldn’t, they would, so they treated you to the hair salon and had your nails done. They’re the ones who took so many photos like some formal dance, and Jimin commented that the only downside was that they were sending you off to pick up Jungkook.

Defending your boss the way you did surprised you a little; it surprised them a lot more. You’d said that he bought you the dress, that he’s been nothing but kind, and that whatever negative feelings you had towards him are all in the past. Your friends understood, deciding not to ruin your night and then letting you go so they could eat out and meet you back at your apartment once you’re done.

You chat with Mr. Ri about how things have been at work, your friends, and your family. You also talk about the gala and how it feels a little nerve-racking attending this time, given your experience with Jungkook.

It’s a grand event that the company’s executives attend, and guests are asked to refrain from going solo. For such requests, it’s not unusual for them to bring their assistants. You’re expected to attend anyway, and assistants usually partner up with each other and it always worked. You went with Hoseok last year because A-yeong had a work event, and while you expected that Jungkook wouldn’t care for such request and maintain that he’d go by himself, you also didn’t think that CEO Jeon would insist that his son take you as his date so he wouldn’t be alone.

The elder Jeon had reasoned that business discussions usually take place during the gala, and it would be good for you to be around and be familiar with the new people on the scene. Hoseok had said that they’re expected to stay through the whole thing, and it’s much better for his cousin to have a companion so he could survive the night. That was months ago when things were still a little shaky for you both. You still remember Jungkook’s displeased look when it seemed like he had no choice in the matter, especially since he probably thought that his father just wanted to make sure he’d act accordingly. It feels like a lifetime ago, really, as you think about his soft smile from last night.

You don’t know exactly what you’re feeling, why his gestures or mannerisms suddenly mean something to you, or why there’s excitement when you think about seeing him outside of work. You’re unsure why the curve of his lips when he grins or the deep huff that follows his laugh makes you a little giddy, or why his eyes lingering on you makes your heart beat a little faster than usual.

Just like right now, as they gaze at you while you seemingly do the same.

“You look, uh—” he starts, unable to find the accurate but appropriate term to describe how you look.

“Nice?” You finish, recalling the term he’d used when you tried this gown for the first time.

“Something like that,” he chuckles, earning him a giggle from you.

He playfully shakes his head, perhaps knowing that you’re used to him not making grand compliments or anything. But he does smile after, and there goes that blissful feeling again.

Maybe it’s because for the first time, you’re being appreciated. Maybe just like how it’s been recently, he likes being around you, prefers it, even. And given how you felt so unwanted during his first few weeks here, this is a blessing, as if in his appreciation of you, you’re liking yourself as well.

“Well, in my opinion, you look quite dashing, Mr. Jeon,” you say bravely. “Except your waistcoat seems to be uneven.”

“Exactly what I thought,” he sighs. “I can’t quite align it properly.”

And as you always do, you approach him, your hands immediately going towards his shoulders to flatten the vest, then his sides to pull it down. You adjust it a little bit more then fix his collar after, and suddenly this feels so natural - being close to him, taking in his scent, and smiling as he glances at you.

“Do you need help with your coat?” You ask once you finish.

He nods and you follow him to his walk-in closet where you take the last piece of clothing and assist him in wearing it. He adjusts the lapels while you assess if all wrinkles have been flattened. You watch him look at himself in the mirror and you can’t help but admire him as well. He exudes confidence, which you can say now is strikingly different from the Appointment Dinner where he still looked a bit unsure. But now, he commands respect. The deep black color of his striped three-piece ensemble with his slick hair parted in the middle makes him even more handsome, and you manage to hold in the gasp you were about to release as he faces you for a final look.

“All good?” He asks.

“All good,” you smile, turning around and walking back to the living room.

He follows, and he takes this time to bask in your beauty before he has to act like it doesn’t affect him again.

There’s a reason why he was rendered speechless the first time he saw you in this gown at the tailor shop, so much so that he had to step out to get some air. You look even more stunning now, with your classic but natural-looking makeup and your styled hair. You exude a certain kind of glow that sucks him in, that makes his heart race yet soothes him just the same.

It’s a little dangerous for him, given that he’ll be spending this entire evening with you as his date, looking the way you do while he has to act disinterested, as if his attraction isn’t slapping him in the face and his internal alarm bells aren’t ringing.

But he has to act professional. He has to stay behind the lines even if his mind is yelling all the words about your beauty that he has to ignore. So he gives himself this short moment where he gets to admire you, and when you make it to the elevator and become confined in a small space, he holds his breath as you smile at him shyly, hoping that he doesn’t give himself away.

He’ll get himself together, he orders to himself, and he’ll make sure he doesn’t scare you off.

You make it to the lobby and enter the car. The drive to the venue is quiet at the beginning. It’s technically not a work day so there’s no reason to discuss work. You and Jungkook may have started talking about non-work matters but it doesn’t mean you readily talk about actual personal things. They’re occasional, as it’s not something he seems to do much and you’re often guarded about yours. It took a while for you to open up to Yoongi and even then, there are many things he doesn’t know. You’re comfortable around him, there’s no denying that, but there are still parts of you that you don’t like to share with others, and you suppose that Jungkook is the same.

But still, you ask how his evening was and how his day went, expecting he’d give a basic answer.

“I just stayed home last night and watched soccer over drinks,” he says. “Then I did my workout and went for a swim this morning. I did a bit of work in the afternoon and then got ready.”

“Ah, no party last night and then recovering from it in the morning?” You tease, knowing that’s a usual occurrence for him. Lucas did mention about the Singapore trip and how he’d taken home a passed out Jungkook on the night of his birthday.

“Well, there was a party,” he responds. “There always is, but I passed up on it. I didn’t want to feel out of sorts tonight. There’ll be a lot of new faces and I don’t wanna mess up.”

“Oh, you won’t. You’ve been doing really well, Mr. Jeon. And that’s me being honest.”

“Why wouldn’t you be?” He arches an eyebrow. “Would you tell me otherwise?”

“Well, the me of now, would. The me of a few months ago would want to but wouldn’t.”

Jungkook dwells on your answer. “Hmm. What changed, then?”

“I got used to you.”

He meets your gaze and somehow it feels too long. You don’t really know what prompted you to say it but you felt a little bold, a little too honest.

“In what sense?” he wonders, turning away now.

“I’d say I got used to the mood swings but then again, they haven’t been intense compared to those first few weeks,” you admit. “But surprisingly, it’s the calmness I’ve become accustomed to. And the seriousness and occasional zoning out, but also, the…”

Care, you want to say. Or the thoughtfulness.

“Consideration,” you say instead.

Jungkook’s throat dries up as he finds the words to say. He’s now afraid to look at you because he might give in and say something he’ll regret. He’s been praised before for his work and his designs, but he supposes that no one’s really complimented him for something he does for other people, specifically for you. Maybe that’s why he thinks he doesn’t deserve it; he’s unsure if he’s really considerate by nature or if he just is towards you. It’s why he brushes it off, insisting he just has his moments.

“But those moments could mean a lot to the one it’s shared with or directed to,” you counter. “Even if it was just once. Or even if it was so trivial that you probably forgot already. But the other person doesn’t. Or they would, but something about that moment stays.”

Jungkook thinks about the moments you’d shown him consideration. Or even care or thoughtfulness, but he wouldn’t word it that way to you. There are the big ones - when you showed your support of the Arts Center to his father, when you calmed him down during that first Board meeting, when you gave him the noodles when he was sick, when you stayed with him during his interview with the magazine publications.

When you stood up to him. When you didn’t quit after that first week.

There are also the small moments - the ginger and lemon tea on Monday mornings when he looks like he’d drank too much the night before, the biscuits you serve with his coffee, the affirming looks during team meetings, the comforting smiles from outside his office when he’s stressed.

There’s a lot of those you show him, and he realizes now that he remembers each one.

The silence returns soon after, as you both seem to prefer basking in the soft music that Mr. Ri plays.

It’s 15 minutes later when you arrive at the venue. You get out of the car and meet Jungkook by his door, surprised when he offers his arm that you take.

“This is how they do it, right?” He looks at you questioningly.

“Yes,” you chuckle. “It’s a little over-the-top but the hosts treat this like it’s some red carpet event and I just follow what the others do. Bitna says it’s the one time we could feel like proper ladies or something, whatever that means.”

“Hmm, makes sense. I guess I’ll be a proper gentleman, then. Whatever that means.”

You hold onto him lightly as you both make your way inside. You try to disregard the firmness of his arm and the way it feels under your touch, so you gently let go not long after and clutch onto your purse instead, not wanting to give off the idea that you’re anything more than each other’s dates. You greet the guests and establish your position to those who are unaware in an effort to show that this social event is a work function as well.

Jungkook talks about the Arts Center when he can, and you mentally take note of certain projects, sites, events, artists, and patrons that are mentioned, quickly typing them on your phone for future reference. He talks to you about them in between flutes of champagne and canapes that are some of the most delicious you’ve ever had.

Jungkook laughs as you down another brie and cranberry bruschetta.

“What? I like fancy food,” you pout.

“Yes, your normal people’s taste buds like fancy food,” he teases.

It’s a statement you make often and you smile that he now uses it against you.

Your moments of casual ignorance of what’s going on around you are ones you find yourself enjoying too much. You internally sigh every time a guest approaches him, and even more so when you find yourself with a few others and someone stands a little too close, or has his hand linger on your elbow, or whispers something in your ear as if you’re at a bar and the music is too loud, which it isn’t, so there’s really no reason for this son of some business tycoon to be asking you to head outside “to talk.”

“Don’t you have a date?” You ask after he insists.

“Yeah, some girl,” he shrugs. “She’s kinda boring. Lucky I found you.”

You awkwardly smile, knowing it’s not your place to reject him and make a scene. He looks to be the type who always gets his way and if he doesn’t this time, you’re afraid of how he might take it.

You don’t budge and call for another flute of champagne instead, finishing it in one gulp that has the man releasing a deep breath in front of you.

“So you’ve been working for the Jeon’s for 8 years, you say?” He speaks again.

You nod, looking around to avoid his eyes.

“That’s quite a long time, yeah? I’m sure I can get you a spot at my company,” he brags. “I mean, we sell luxury cars. That’s way more interesting than buildings and shit.”

“I don’t drive,” you say too quickly. “I mean, I don’t know how to.”

“Perfect. I can teach you then,” he smirks.

It’s the look that heightens your level of discomfort, and just as you’re about to make some excuse and run away, Jungkook calls your name that has you immediately turning towards him.

“Yes, Mr. Jeon?”

He’s not too far away; he comes closer yet still maintains a bit of a distance.

“Hoseok’s asking for me but I want to speak to Mr. Saito before he leaves. Can you go to my cousin on my behalf?”

“Of course,” you say, excusing yourself and scurrying away from the scene, sighing in relief at the sight of a familiar pair of faces.

A-yeong gives you a hug and you return it, then you turn to Hoseok and ask what he needs Jungkook for.

“Nothing,” he says. “I didn’t call for him.”

“Oh, okay. Well, he said you did.”

“I haven’t spoken to him since we got here,” Hoseok replies. “You know how this gala goes. So many people to meet. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, just… uh. Well, I just met Mr. Kwon’s son. And let’s just say, I don’t want that to happen again.”

“Oh, ___,” A-yeong sighs, knowing exactly what you mean. “Just stay with us. Or don’t leave Jungkook’s side.” Turning towards the man who’d just arrived, she adds, “stay close to her, okay?”

Jungkook looks at you, his eyes asking a question that you know the answer to but neither of you says anything.

“I will,” he nods.

Both of you stay where you are for a while before heading back to your seats for the sit-down dinner. You converse with those at your table, thankful that they’re all decent and entertaining. After that, Jungkook doesn’t leave your side. It almost seems like he’s your date rather than the other way around, but you appreciate his presence, especially when he calls your attention once you start looking uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry,” you sigh. “I just… I just get a little uneasy when people I don’t know get too close.”

“I understand. I’m the same,” he says, prompting you to look at him. “But I just feel uncomfortable, not unsafe. There’s a difference. And it’s not okay if that’s how they make you feel.”

He knew without you saying the words. It takes you back to that night at the restaurant with Hajoon and how Jungkook had looked the most guilty he’d ever been when you said that his staring made you feel uncomfortable. You supposed then that it was mostly because he thought he was causing a rift between you and Hajoon but you realize now that it was more than that. For all that Jungkook is, you’ve come to see that there are things he can’t stand himself doing; deliberately making you feel unsafe is definitely one of them. Perhaps it’s why at this moment, you feel the exact opposite being around him.

And that’s how the rest of the night goes. He stays close but when he’s caught up in a conversation he can’t get out of, he gives you that look to remind you that it’s okay to step away, that you have the ability to remove yourself from a situation you don’t feel good being in. And you do, and the worry you used to have about being a mere assistant fades away. You never thought that one Jeon Jungkook would give you the permission to do that.

You’re seated on a chair some time later, the hours of walking in your high heels taking its toll on you. You wave to Hoseok and A-yeong, no longer having the energy to walk up to them for a proper goodbye. You sigh to yourself, feeling the tiredness slowly overtake you. It was still a good night, but it took a lot of energy from you, too.

“Hey,” you hear Jungkook call out.

You turn to him, still looking handsome as he stands nearby, his hands in his pockets as he mirrors your exhaustion.

“Ready to head home?” He asks.

“Yes,” you say too quickly, earning you a laugh.

You stand up, limping only a tiny bit, but you think Jungkook notices, as he offers his arm just like he did at the start of the night.

“This is what a proper gentleman does, right?” He asks.

“I suppose. Although I might say, Mr. Jeon, that’s what you were the entire time. So thank you.”

Jungkook nods in response, unsure how to receive your gratitude. He knows what you mean, as the first sign of your discomfort had him looking at you constantly. He was worried all night but he supposes there’s no reason to feel that way now, as your faint smile just signifies that you’re tired more than anything.

For the short moment it takes for you to walk closer to him, he basks in your beauty once more. The night will be over soon, and he’s glad he could give you some reprieve this time. He tries not to lose it when you tighten your grip on his arm for support though, but that’s something he can think about later on.

The walk to the car isn’t that long and you let go of him eventually. You head towards the other door then enter, the space in between reminding him of where you both belong - on either side of a line, one that he shouldn’t think of crossing.

You sink into your seat, fighting the urge to curl your body and take a nap, so you sit up straight and hold yourself together after once again feeling Jungkook’s arm under your touch. Most of the alcohol has left your system but perhaps not enough, as you boldly look at him and smile in appreciation. He returns it, perhaps knowing why you are.

You look out the window, appreciating Seoul’s night sky, until the vision starts getting unclear, as the rain falls steadily on the window. The tapping of the droplets on the glass is a sound you’ve come to appreciate, among other things that you used to be terrified of.

There’s just this calmness, as if the rain is greeting you, accompanying you in your thoughts. But the sound of the radio getting louder disrupts that a little bit, and in looking at Mr. Ri in question only to find him glancing at the rearview mirror to see the man next to you, do you realize why he’s doing so.

Jungkook’s demeanor has changed, a complete 180 to how he looked not long ago when he seemed satisfied, fulfilled, almost proud of himself for surviving the night. He’s now cross-legged and cross-armed, with his eyes closed and jaws clenched, as if he’s trying to hold himself together. Or trying his best to drown out the sound of the rain, the way Mr. Ri is trying to do for him.

Your face falls at the sight. You’ve seen Jungkook stressed and angry and disappointed; you’ve seen him anxious, too, but this is different. There’s a bit of fear in there, and with the way he flinches and how he’s clutching onto his arms, you know this comes from somewhere and this was caused by something. If it’s anything similar to what you know, then this was because of something painful.

You want to reach out to him but you know you shouldn’t. You helplessly look back on the road then glance at Jungkook every few seconds as the rain continues. It doesn’t seem like it will be a terrible downpour but it’s stronger than usual.

You try to remember instances in the past where he’d acted this way. A few come to mind, and you think now there’s a reason why he becomes uneasy when it starts to drizzle. That happened the other week while you were on a site visit with him for a small project, but you hadn’t thought much of it, given that he was on his fourth cup of coffee on the way there.

But right now, you wish there was something more you could do; anything is better than nothing. But you feel constrained - by the distance, by your position, by his boundaries that seem to always be there.

By some miracle, the rain weakens, and it’s stopped by the time you arrive at Jungkook’s apartment building. The car halts and with him still in the same position, you think he probably doesn’t realize he’s home.

“Mr. Jeon,” you say softly, gently tapping his arm to get his attention. “We’ve reached your place. And the rain has stopped. It’s… it’s okay to open your eyes now.”

It takes a few seconds but he takes a deep breath, opens his eyes, then looks around. It’s just droplets frozen in time on his window and he sighs in relief. Somehow the assurance that he’s okay means something to you this time; you hate to think of what burden he carries that he hides away.

He opens the door, and there’s a bit of disappointment you feel when he closes it and leaves without a goodbye. You suppose he just wants to get to his place immediately and rush to safety. But you don’t want to intrude, not if distance is what he needs, so you settle with just watching him walk away.

But then he turns around, and with that bit of boldness left in your body, you open the window and give him another smile. You wish he feels the tenderness in it; you wish somehow it’s enough to let him know that you understand, and that he’s not alone.

“Good night,” you manage to say, and he hears it despite the distance.

“Good night, ___. And thank you.”

It’s the use of your name. It’s the softness of his smile and the words of gratitude. It’s the way he lingers as the car starts to drive away and you’re left watching him even from afar.

It lets you know that he knows. And it’s the reason why you sleep soundly that night and why for the first time since you’ve met him, you can’t wait to see him again.

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#jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x oc #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook series #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #boss jungkook

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borathae · 2 months ago

Text

↳ Index [Day 01 - Hotel Room Sex]

Pairing: Good Puppy!JK + Soft Mistress!Reader

Genre: established relationship!AU, Rockstar!Jungkook

Kinks: porn with plot cause it's my demisexual ass, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, nipple play, nipple sucking, hair pulling, passionate pegging in missionary, use of a buttplug, lube, frotting, handjob, orgasm control, multiple orgasms (m.receiving), overstimulation, he pisses himself because it feels so good, subby boy tears, praise, dirty talk, possessive talk, muscle kink, cuddly and giddy aftercare

Wordcount: 9.2k

a/n: i can't believe i'm actually insane enough to do kinktober. besties, we're in for a ride :) this is based on this ask 💙

Jungkook sings about sex and drugs and getting drunk. He sings about the girls he fucks and kisses and how they all worship him. And he isn’t wrong. They worship him by the base of the stage, stretching their arms to him and screaming their throat raw, as if he was their god.

You don’t blame them. Jungkook looks good. Way too damn good. He is the lead singer and guitarist of his band Black Omens, a rock band known for its enchanting vocals and heavy guitar riffs. He has a certain style of singing and of playing the guitar which drives the fangirls wild. The stage is always lit in red shades and you will always find him in tight leather pants and tank tops. Sometimes he wears no shirt, showing off his tattoos and piercings. His hair is always a certain kind of wet on stage, hanging into his sexy face messily which truly fits the lewd topics he sings about.

And the girls go wild. He sings about being their master, their devil twisting their world all while he fingers the guitar and makes sultry eye contact with the crowd. They love it, you watch from the back with a knowing roll of your eyes. If only they knew.

The concert ends after the second encore with roaring applause and screeches. Tears are spilled and way too many undergarments thrown at the band. What a bunch of weirdos. You are jealous of them. Well, maybe not jealous but threatened. Jungkook promises you that he is loyal, that what he sings about isn’t how he truly feels, but with each concert your devotion to trust him shrinks. He asked you to come on tour with him, not wanting to be away from you again for months on end. You quit your old job two months ago because your manager decided to slip his hand under your colleague’s skirt and you broke his nose for it. Fair enough, you didn’t quit, you were fired, but you left with your head held high, knowing that your actions also resulted in your manager losing his job. And so you were unemployed and therefore had free time, so you agreed to come with Jungkook on his tour and postpone the job hunt until after. You had enough money saved up to live comfortably after the tour and while on tour didn’t need to spend any because the band budget paid for everything. Of course you agreed, but you slowly started to regret it. Jungkook sings about sex and drugs and getting drunk, he sings about all the women he dominates while thousands of willing women scream at his feet in hopes of being picked. You are only that strong in your belief that Jungkook is loyal before it finally starts to affect you.

Tonight was an especially bad night. While the band was saying goodbye, Jungkook brushed hands with a few fangirls – all of the band did – and it made you furious. The way they looked at him, how they grabbed him and basically begged to be his next willing thing to dominate made you furious.

The band leaves after their goodbyes, talking to each other as they jog down the stairs.

Hoseok, the drummer, and Yoongi, the lead guitarist, share a water bottle. They’re the first by your side, followed by Taehyung, the bassist, and Seokjin, the keyboardist.

“Alright now guys, good job up there. The crowd went wild for you tonight”, Namjoon, the manager and their good friend, says, appearing beside you as well with his phone in hand. He is always busy, always networking, always socialising. The guys jokingly call him their secret leader because he does all of their social tasks. He always accepts the teasing with an exasperated sigh and a “you’re not wrong you know? You’d be lost without me.”

“Thanks man. We felt pretty pumped up there. Fuck, it feels good to make music with you guys”, Yoongi says, boxing the air in a release of good adrenaline.

“Man, the ad-libs you did during Chained Up were fucking fire man, no lies”, Hoseok praises him.

“Says the right one. You were on fire during Spit. You and Taehyung. Man, your solo was great.”

Taehyung smiles, patting his back, “thanks man. I only followed Seokjin’s cues. You were lit, my man.”

“Man thanks seriously”, Seokjin says and accepts a bottle of water from Namjoon, downing it in one go.

Jimin, the third guitarist and second vocalist, finally comes backstage. He can scream really fucking well. He showed off the skill multiple times tonight, driving the crowd wild. Following Jimin, is Jungkook, smiling drunkenly from the successful night. Outside the crowd is still screaming for them. You can barely even look at him. He is a cheater, you just know that he is.

“Man, what a show”, he comes stumbling, arm falling around your shoulder. “Hey baby. Did you like the show?” he lulls, leaning so he could kiss your lips. He is sweating a lot, which you normally don’t mind but tonight it annoys you.

“You’re sweaty”, you say coldly, taking a step back.

Jungkook brushes off the embarrassment with a confused laugh and his eyes exchanging confused looks with the others. They aren’t any wiser.

“Did you all hear how I screamed during Save Me tonight?” Jimin tries to change topic. The others gladly take it, continuing to talk about the concert as you make your way to the greenroom. Jungkook tries to hold your hand when no one is looking, but you refuse him.

“What’s wrong?” he whispers.

“Nothing”, you refuse him answer, painting a crease of displeasure between his brows.

The guys get ready and unready in front of you. Of course they don’t get fully naked, but you have seen every single one of them in their underwear before. You are mostly on your phone or doodle in your notebook when they do because you don’t care to see their nude bodies. They are mostly talking about the concert and whether or not they should go for some beers later. You don’t partake in the conversation, sulking like an immature girl. You are aware that you are being immature, but you also can’t stop. Just hearing Jungkook’s voice makes your blood boil tonight. The latter keeps glancing at you with his brows furrowing more and more.

They are already dressed when the security guards come. You loathe this moment.

“Derek, hey man”, Jimin greets him.

“Hey, so uhm, there’s some fans outside who wanna see you.”

The insinuation is clear to everyone and you can’t stand it. Now granted, you like all of them, they are amazing and wonderful people and you are happy when they get a fun night if that is what both parties want clearly. They don’t allow anyone under the age of twenty six because that’s the age where most humans actually know what they want and they also have a clear rule that the people need to be completely sober and clear headed. There are contracts involved, ensuring the safety of both parties so the consenting women knew they wouldn’t be forced to do anything out of their comfort zone. It was an honest deal, still a little weird, but honest and safe, but you hated it nonetheless. Because Jungkook always went with the others. Not for sex because not every fan was here for that. Some just wanted a picture or an autograph and he wanted to make those fans happy and yet you still always dreaded the moment, thinking to yourself “what if tonight is the night he finally has enough of me and goes back to the hotel room with another girl? Will I have to sleep on the streets then? Will he make me watch knowing that it will hurt me?”

You never had such thoughts before, but this tour has been truly making you go crazy.

Tonight, Derek’s arrival made your stomach churn painfully and you almost threw up the enchiladas you ate earlier.

The guys leave the greenroom chatting with each other. You know that Yoongi and Seokjin won’t go home with anyone because that’s not in their comfort zone. They will pose for pictures and thank the fans for their support. There is a fifty-fifty chance that Taehyung might leave with someone, depending on the vibes. Jimin will most definitely leave with someone, no hesitation. Hoseok is only there for pictures unless there is someone his taste (he leaves with someone at most locations, he is just trying to act like he isn’t a fuckboy). Sometimes there are people for Namjoon as well, who he always declines with red cheeks. Jungkook, well, frankly you don’t want to think about him.

He follows the others, laughing and joking. Most are out of the door when he stops and looks back at you.

“Baby?” he queries.

“Mhm”, you hum, not looking up from your phone.

“Wanna come with us? Meet some of our fans?”

“Go and meet them yourself, maybe one of them can Suck It, Lick It, Ride It”, you throw back his own lyrics which he sang to the crowd as his hand was on his clothed crotch.

“Huh?”

You jump to your feet to stomp away, but Jungkook catches your wrist, tugging gently but with strength.

“What’s wrong? Why are you saying that?”

“Let go of me, I don’t wanna be touched.”

“Sorry.” He lets go instantly, studying you intensely. “Talk to me. What’s wrong, baby?”

“JK, you coming or what?” Hoseok asks, sticking his head back into the greenroom.

Jungkook looks at you pleadingly.

“Tch”, you scoff, turning your back to him.

Jungkook’s features tighten in confusion, panic and heartbreak. He forces a smile on it.

“Coming, don’t worry”, he says and leaves with Hoseok after giving you one last look over his shoulder.

Just like you had predicted, the known guys leave with someone while the others only take pictures. You all leave for the hotel room together, sharing cars. Yoongi and Seokjin share the car with you and Jungkook. Namjoon is with you as well, on his phone of course. The others take the other car.

Because of the missing privacy, Jungkook can’t talk to you, destined to sit next to you while you refuse to be touched by him.

You booked rooms on the seventh floor, saying your goodbyes on the hallways before disappearing inside your rooms.

The door closes behind Jungkook.

You slip out of your shoes and then you are already gone from the entrance, fleeing into the living area of the big room.

You sit down in one of the chairs and open the room service menu. You aren’t hungry, but don’t know what else to do.

“Can we finally cut the crap and talk?” Jungkook enters the room.

“Do you want room service?”

“No. I wanna talk to you about what’s bothering you ‘cause something clearly is.”

You lower the menu, glaring at him. He is glaring back with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

“Nothing’s bothering me.”

He throws his hands in the air and drops them, letting them slap against his thighs as a gesture of complete defeat. It makes a loud sound of impact on the leather pants.

“Very mature of you, seriously”, he says with annoyance in his voice, “I’m taking a shower, maybe you wanna talk about it afterwards.”

You don’t move from your spot during the time he takes to shower, sulking and feeling embarrassed. Jungkook isn’t wrong. You know that being a sulky girl isn’t very grown-up of you to do, but you just can’t help it. What if you speak up and he confirms it? What if he says that it’s just sex, babe? You love him so much, but what if he doesn’t love you in return?

Jungkook, who notices that you haven’t shifted one bit in the chair even after almost forty minutes, stops in his tracks to sigh in defeat.

“What’s the matter? Just talk to me.”

You glance at him. He is only in his towel now, carrying his clothes under his arm. His hair and face are freshly washed, vast of any product or makeup. This is the kind of Jungkook only you get to see. The real, unfiltered human. It should be enough to make your heart see that you are everything he needs, but it’s not.

“Nothing, I don’t know”, you murmur, looking away

“___ please. I know something is wrong, please let us fix it.”

You throw your hands over your face to muffle the sudden sob you want to let out.

Jungkook drops his clothes and hurries to you. He sits down on the chair opposite of you, dragging your hands away.

“Talk to me, my love. What’s the matter?”

“I don’t know.”

“Are you homesick?”

You shake your head.

“Is it the rooms we stay in? I know they’re not the most comfortable sometimes and-”

“No, not that.”

“Well, what then baby?” he asks softly, wiping your tears.

“I’m scared.”

“Scared of what? That I’ll overdo it? I promise those days are over. I’m twenty seven now, I learned from-”

“No, the girls.”

“The girls? Why are you scared of girls?” He scoots closer, takes your hands and speaks in a serious voice. “What happened in Jakarta won’t happen again. I promise. We upped the security, so nobody can climb on stage again and try to kiss one of us. I promise I’m gonna stay safe.”

“And loyal too?”

Jungkook is silent. In shock and confusion. Very obviously not in caught panic. He is merely lost for words, trying to make sense of what you just asked him.

“What did you just say?”

“You heard me. How can I know that you’re gonna be loyal?”

“Because I took you on this tour with me.”

“And if you hadn’t?”

“I would have called you each night.”

You search for words, studying his face.

He clicks his tongue and speaks your name as softly as possible, cradling your face, “oh my sweet love, why are you feeling like this all of a sudden?”

“I don’t know. I guess I’m just…” You sigh in defeat. “I’m just tired of hearing you sing about dominating countless girls when I know I could never give you that. And then they, they scream at your feet as if you were their god with such actual, pure devotion in their eyes. I can’t compete with all of them.”

“But you don’t have to compete with them. I love you and that won’t ever change.”

“I can’t be like them.”

“Good. I’m in love with you, not them.”

A smile hushes over your face. Jungkook smiles back at you, closing the distance to peck your lips. You accept it with a whimper and a tremor.

“Aw baby, don’t cry. I’m here”, he says, hugging you against him.

You hug him back, sniffling into his neck.

“Why are you feeling like this all of a sudden? Was it something I did?” he asks.

“No, it’s just that it’s been a lot, actually, watching you have thousands of girls at your feet each night. And, and then when they come backstage I get so scared. I keep thinking what if tonight is the night he finally has enough of me and goes back to the hotel room with another girl? Will I have to sleep on the streets then? Will he make me watch knowing that it will hurt me? I’ve been feeling so insecure lately and scared that one of them will be more your type than me.”

“No, I’m sorry, my baby. You don’t have to feel this way, I love you and only you.” He gives you a tight squeeze. “Please believe me. I love you so, so much. You’re not in any kind of danger, I mean it. I see these people as fans of our music, nothing more. You’re my everything. Okay?”

“I am?”

“Yes, you are.”

“Thank you for saying that. I love you too.”

“Is that why you were being cold to me? Because you felt too insecure?”

“No, I guess…I’m sorry for being like this. I try not to be, but it’s hard. It’s just that my voice never mattered to others and if I spoke up I was ridiculed.”

“Don’t apologise, baby. I understand. Thank you for talking to me, I know that wasn’t easy.”

“No.” You sniffle, squeezing him. “No, it wasn’t.”

“There, there”, he rubs your head as he talks, “it feels better now though, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, very.”

“For me too. I was really hurt when you ignored me. It makes me really anxious and I would really like it if in the future, you could maybe give me a short notice if you still need time to be ready to talk.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll try to tell you if I still need time in the future.”

“Thank you. I’m sorry for giving you reasons for doubting my loyalty to you. What do you need me to do in the future?”

“I don’t know. I know the image you guys have is kinda detrimental to your success and I don’t want you to lose the connection you have with your fans. I know they matter to you.”

“Yes, as fans. You matter to me as my partner. I want to make you happy first and foremost.”

“Maybe, I don’t know, maybe you could be cuter with me?”

“Cuter? Then I have an idea. I’ll dedicate at least one song to you each gig. Alright?”

You giggle.

“Yeah, you like that. I like it too, my muffin.”

You nudge him away.

“Don’t call me that.”

He grins boyishly, earning himself another nudge.

“I’m taking a shower, you egg. If you wanna order room service, go ahead”, you tell him and stand up to leave.

“Yes okie. Are you hungry?”

“Not really, but you can eat something.”

Jungkook is lounging on bed when you come outside.

“Did you order something?”

“No, I-”, Jungkook’s words get stuck in his throat.

You wear the towel around your hips, forcing him to do a double take because he definitely didn’t expect the view. With a content sigh, you drop onto the mattress beside him. You aren’t blind to the way his eyes gawk at your tits.

“Like what you see?”

“Bouncy”, he gets out and gulps.

You laugh, “yes, boobs tend to do that with movement.”

“Ah, so pretty”, he closes the distance and buries his nose into your side boob with a cute hum. His tattooed arm is around your waist like this. He kicks his feet happily, humming cutely as he nuzzles your boob.

You snicker, enjoying the attention to the fullest. He lifts his head and grins up at you.

“You know, I was thinking”, he says, tracing your side with his fingertips.

“What were you thinking?”

“We could order room service a little later and I’ll show you my devotion first.”

“Your devotion?” you ask, feeling tingly.

“Mh-hm”, he nods his head, lowering it to your chest afterwards so he could mouth at your tits. He does it softly and very teasingly. “You know me. How I really am, what I really want”, he speaks between his kisses, speeding up your breath with it. His pierced lips brush over your nipple, forcing it to harden and tingle.

“But I feel like you’ve started to forget that”, he whispers, darting the tip of his tongue out to trace your nipple.

You squirm on the sheets. Jungkook ends the slow feast with a gentle suck and then he is already back to feather light kisses all over your chest. He even climbs between your legs for better access, raising your breath to quickened levels.

“Which means, I gotta let you put me back in my place.”

He lifts his head, lips so very close to kiss and sultry eyes getting lost in yours. Your heart is racing like crazy. You are so attracted to him.

“Peg me, my goddess. I’ve been acting out of line, I need to be curbed again.”

“Kook…”

“Please?”

You gulp. He makes puppy eyes at you. His temptation is powerful, you must admit. Pegging him tonight would definitely cure your insecure heart. There is nothing more sensual than being inside him and he looks so, so good taking it. You like to argue that this is when he looks best. The temptation is unbearable, but you can’t give in yet. He has to work a little harder for his reward.

“Yah”, you slap his chest gently, “you can’t just do that to me.”

“Why not?” he chuckles.

“Because you’re being unfair with your techniques. You wanna be pegged? What about me? You think I’ll let you get everything after what you did?”

Jungkook mewls, sagging his shoulders in defeat. You are already playing into it. This is both real, but also meant to rile him up.

“Of course not, I’m sorry. I, I shouldn’t have suggested that”, he says and bows his head, using it as an opportunity to begin licking your breasts again. He places his hands under your armpits, dancing them down your sides and up again.

You close your eyes, melting into the pillow with a slight scoot forwards.

“Can I make it up to you, Mistress?” he asks, mouthing at your right nipple.

“Yeah…”

“Thank you, wow, thank you”, he gets out.

He sucks on your nipple one last time then takes on another journey. He uses his tongue for it, swirling it down the middle of your stomach. You follow it with an arch of your back, sighing his name. You are so addicted to his touch.

“You’re the most beautiful woman”, he rasps, supporting his words with needy kisses all over your lower stomach. You are sensitive there so this is riling you up like crazy.

“Kook, no teasing”, you mewl, thrusting your hips up desperately.

“Mhm.” He fumbles with the towel. “Can I open it?”

“Yeah, quick.”

He chuckles, opening it with a skilled tug. He sits back on his feet as he unravels you, smoothing the towel out on each side of your hips. His eyes are mesmerised by your pussy, tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“Wow, I’m just…wow.”

You prop your legs up and part them. Jungkook gulps and moans afterwards.

“I can’t believe you’re real”, he whispers.

“I taste good too, you know?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I know. Oh my Mistress”, he murmurs and lies down on his stomach, arms wrapping around your thighs and fingers digging deep into your softness. He buries himself in your warmth with a needy mewl, instantly beginning to attack your clit with eager sucks and quick licks.

“Oh”, you let out, twitching in surprise. “Woah.” You croak, grabbing his hair to twist it.

Jungkook mewls into you, enjoying the burn on his scalp and the overwhelmed throbbing of your pussy. He knows that he went for it rather aggressively, but he had to. You are doubting his devotion to you. He needs to show you that he starves whenever he isn’t between your legs. You need to know that your taste is all he ever wants.

“Holy fuck, you’re being - ah - shit, Kook fuck ah, you’re being ah rather, ah, rather aggressive, mhhhm, wouldn’t you say-aah?” You somehow get out, writhing under his mouth.

He nods his head and moans his words against you. “All I want is you. I was so starved.” His tongue glides through your folds, filling your walls for a change. Not that your clit is getting a break. He uses his pretty nose for it, sinking into your sweetened scent as he grinds his nose into your clit while he tongue fucks you quickly.

You growl deeply and roll your eyes back sensually, arching your back. Your legs fall open weakly, now held only by Jungkook's strong arms and his needy hands.

“You’re insane, holy fuck.”

Jungkook hums and breaks away sloppily. He talks as he kisses your pussy. “Yeah, insane for you. My fucking goddess, my everything, my life. Fuck, I want you.” He takes your clit between his messy lips and uses his skilled tongue on it.

“Oh god, stay there ah!”

Jungkook mewls in understanding, gazing up at you with darkened yet devoted eyes. You are so loud. Your chest is lifting and rising quickly. Fuck, your tits are so sexy. Jungkook slides his right hand from your thigh to cradle your tit instead. It takes him a second of fumbling and then he has your nipple between his fingers, rolling and massaging it just how you like it.

“Kook, baby”, you keen, holding his hand and twisting his hair at the same time. You don’t stop him, you just want to hold so much of him. He makes you feel so good and you need to make sure this is real.

Jungkook purrs into you, closing his eyes sensually. You are writhing so happily, moaning because of him. Are the others hearing you? Are they hearing that he makes you feel good because he is yours? A part of him hopes that they can. Especially the women going back to the hotel with his friends. He furrows his brows, suddenly feeling angry at them. How dare they make his woman feel insecure. Hopefully they hear how good you feel right now, hopefully they get the fucking message that Jungkook does all of this for you.

“Slow down, ah, Kook slow down you’re being so, ah fuck, so aggressive”, your squeaks rip him back to reality. He has been pressing his mouth into your pussy as tightly as possible, almost licking your clit raw. Fuck, he was so angry at the world that he was too rough with you.

He whimpers, lifting his mouth, “I’m sorry. Fuck, I can’t exist without you, I’m sorry I was…I just love you so much”, he lulls, kissing your clit as apology.

“You’re such a munch, ah fuuuuck”, you sigh, opening your legs even further. You guide his hand to your other nipple for a change because even that he rubbed raw. Jungkook switches arms for it quickly, moaning when you hold his new hand as well. His right hand he guides down to your pussy, burying his two longest digits in your dripping warmth.

“Jungkook!” you yelp, thrusting your hips.

“Yours. I’m yours”, he mewls, connecting his puffy lips with your clit so he can lick you again. Up and down, up and down, up and down. You like this the most, walls throbbing around his digits as he uses them to stimulate you from the other side as well. You clench down on him, making it feel so much better for you.

“I can’t hold back anymore.”

Jungkook mewls and opens his eyes. He needs to watch you break apart. First you throw your head to the side and lift your brows. Then his name falls off your tongue and your mouth stays open. Next a loud moan and your back lifting off the sheets. Finally the rhythmic throbbing begins and Jungkook knows that he has you orgasming on his tongue and fingers.

He whimpers into you, feeling high and trying to do the best job at keeping the touches perfect for you.

“Wow, holy fuck”, you come down with a curse, flinching when he overstimulates you with needy licks. You tug on his hair. “No more, puppy.”

Jungkook mewls sadly but obeys. He slips his fingers out and drops your nipple, placing both hands on your thighs instead so he could guide them to his lips. He needs more of you. Now that you deny him your sweet cunt, he needs to find relief in the softness of your thighs. He sucks and kisses the tender flesh, listening to your voice as you talk to him.

“You were fucking insane tonight. What the hell?”

You writhe in the aftershocks. Jungkook changes thighs, worshiping it with throaty mewls.

“I can’t tell whether I came with my clit or my g-spot or my fucking nipples. Oh god, Kook.”

He whimpers, humping the mattress. Good. That’s good. He did this to you. It’s all he wanted.

“You’re insane, seriously.”

“I love you, couldn’t help myself”, he lulls and dares to kiss your pussy. Gently.

“Ah”, you gasp and chuckle, burying your hands in his hair to ruffle it, “stop it, you munch.”

Jungkook mewls, shaking his head as he places more kisses on your well eaten pussy. You smell so good after a high. He is delirious between your legs, floating on cloud nine.

But you are sensitive and so you pull him up with a gentle tug to his hair.

“Be a good puppy.”

He finally comes up, letting out a sweet sigh of your name. His lips are glossy from your orgasm, his damp hair sticks to his forehead. He lays himself down over you, gazing at you dreamily.

You brush his hair out of his face, cradling his cheeks. He mewls, lowering his eyes droopily as he leans into your touch.

“This was amazing, thank you.”

He shakes his head, “thank you for letting me taste you, Mistress.”

“Gosh you sweetie. Wanna have a reward?”

“Yes please”, he whimpers, eyes glassy in devotion.

“I knew you would like that. Get ready for me, yeah?”

“I already am, Mistress.”

“What?”

Jungkook breaks out of your touch to turn his back to you. He is kneeling between your legs, lowering himself to his elbows so his back is arched and his butt lifted into the air. The towel is still covering him.

“What do you mean? Are you wearing a plug?” you ask, sitting up to tug the towel from him. It falls on the sheets, revealing his sweet bubble butt to you and the big plug lodged right between his cheeks.

“Jungkook, what the hell?” you get out, gawking with parted lips and widened eyes.

He whimpers cutely, wiggling his hips. You still them with a hungry grip, making him moan just for you. He looks over his shoulder at you, carrying nothing but submission in his pretty eyes.

“I put it in before the concert. I planned on asking for your strap after the show, but then we had this fight and I gave up on it.”

“Holy fuck….”

“I’m yours for life, Mistress.”

Your eyes meet. He is honest. You gulp, squeezing his hips as your eyes switch back to the plug. It is black in colour and has a round base. The silicon is made of the highest quality, sitting so perfectly in his hole.

“You performed with it in?” you ask, voice croaky and frail because he has you so weak.

“Yeah. It was so difficult sometimes. I kept thinking of you and trying not to get hard.”

“Holy fuck and I was being fucking jealous…”

“It’s okay, Mistress. I was yours all the time.”

“Holy shit”, you whisper, soaking the towel with your excitement. “I can’t believe you held a concert plugged up. This is so hot, I can’t process it.”

“Just for you, Mistress.”

“Kook, wow. And when we talked?”

“No, it wasn’t in.”

“Did you take it out in the shower?”

“Yeah. I hid it in my clothes but then, then we made up again and I couldn’t help myself. I’m sorry Mistress, I put it back in.”

He mewls and sticks his ass closer to you, revealing more of it. He is such a natural at arching his back. Holy fuck, you are dripping like as a fucking river.

“Please, can you be inside me? Please, I need you inside me, please”, he begs.

“Fuck, you’re so hot”, you get out, giving his buttocks a spank each.

He flinches both times, moaning sweetly and fingers twisting the sheets. The impact was just harsh enough that his skin reddens a little where you struck him. Not much, it is but a cute little flush.

“You’re blushing now, puppy”, you tease him, rubbing the tender spots.

Jungkook curses under his breath, burying his face in the sheets with a sensual roll of his eyes.

“Hm, cute”, you smile, giving his tailbone a kiss before straightening up. “Stay like this for me, okay?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

You get everything you need to make him yours, putting it on next to the bed. Tonight isn’t the first night you peg Jungkook on this tour or in general for that matter. Anal sex is quite the regular thing between you and him and tonight it feels especially hot.

To think that he performed plugged up. You might need to rearrange his guts for it. You place the lube bottle in the sheets and climb back onto bed behind him, running your palms along his butt. Jungkook’s breath quickens, he squirms a little. You know that he is so, so excited right now.

“Mhm, you’re tempting me being like this, you know?”

He mewls, arching his back.

“So pretty. Makes me wanna pound you like we’re two fucking dogs in heat.”

He moans, heavy cock twitching between his meaty thighs and hole moving the plug needily. It gets him off like crazy when you talk rough with him.

“You liked that, didn’t you?”

He nods his head vigorously, giving you a sweet cute moan.

“Of course you did. It’s a shame that I don’t want this.”

“Huh?” he peeks at you pleadingly but gulps when he sees the dirty smirk you are sporting.

“Get on your back, puppy. Now.”

Jungkook obeys as quickly as his wobbly knees allow him. He flips right where he is, head facing the foot end of the bed and feet the pillows.

“That’s it”, you rasp, lying yourself down over him with your hands on each side of his head.

He gulps, gazing at you in devotion. He reaches up and grasps your wrists, arching his back just for you. His dark hair is ruffled on the white sheets.

“That’s what I want. I wanna look at your pretty face as I make you mine.”

“Mistress…”

“Yeah, you like that too, don’t you?”

“So much”, he whimpers, nodding his head vigorously. He lets out a little sob, “please I’m so horny, Mistress.”

“Of course you are. You can sing about being a girl’s Master all you want, but that’s not you, is it? You don’t get off to that, do you?”

“No, Mistress”, he shakes his head, pouting in desperation, “no, I’m Mistress’ puppy. You, you get me off.”

“Yes, I do. You’re mine. Mine to form and command and own.”

He moans, thrusting his hips up which results in your strap to rub against his cock. He whimpers and does it again.

You glance down and chuckle.

“Would you look at that”, you sit up, kneeling with his legs slung around your thighs. You pick up his cock and yours, squeezing them together in a sensual handjob.

“Holy fuck”, Jungkook croaks and rolls his eyes back, head digging into the sheets and arms reaching high above it to twist the sheets. He arches his back, toes curling on the sheets and cock throbbing against yours. The power you have over him is so obvious to you and it’s getting you off like nothing else. He might have thousands of girls screaming at his feet, he might be singing for them but in your hands, he is turning into a pretty puppy with just the first touch. Only you get to make his body move like that. Only you get to make his face pull this expression. And only you get to make him sing in such ways.

“That’s what I mean. That’s the fucking view I want, puppy. You’re mine, aren’t you?”

“Yourssss”, Jungkook mewls, dragging out the word in a sweet moan as his body writhes on the sheets against his will. Because when he is in your hands he has no own will, no own thoughts. You control him, everything he does, every movement his body makes.

“Mhhm mine, all mine”, you purr, looking at your cocks so close together.

The dildo you have strapped into the harness is translucent because there is something incredibly arousing about seeing it inside Jungkook. It makes his hole look so pretty. It also looks very pretty against his cock.

You open the lube bottle with your other hand and tilt it over your cocks to squirt a good amount down on them. Jungkook reacts in a mewl of your name and his cock throbbing against yours.

“Holy fuck, holy fuck, holy fuck”, he curses repeatedly under his breath, lost in the frotting with closed eyes and an agape mouth. His throat looks so sexy like this.

You spread the lube on your cocks, doing a good job with it. You even break them apart for a bit to jerk them off with one hand each. Jungkook kicks the sheets, voice cracking in the back of his throat.

“Stay still, puppy.”

“I’m sensitive”, he mewls, kicking again despite trying not to.

“I know you are. You always are. Just try for me, okay?”

“Oh god”, he whispers, following it up with a desperate keen. He tenses his thighs, forcing his legs to stay still as best as possible. His abs rifle as well, trying so hard to keep his hips from squirming.

“There we go. Good puppy”, you praise and press your cocks together again. You wrap both hands around them, using them to pump you from the bases all the way to the tips.

“A-a-ah”, Jungkook lets out loudly, squirming instantly.

“Puppy”, you warn in a laugh.

“I’m sorry I- oh!” he sits up as best as possible and grabs your hands tightly.

“Hm?”

“Stop, holy fu- wait please. Let go.”

You let him pull you away, gawking at his face so you wouldn’t miss the grimace of agony he pulls. He frowns, gritting his teeth and curling his lips back. He looks so angry like this, but you know better. He was one second away from orgasming.

“What’s the matter?” you feign your ignorance.

“Close, fuck”, he growls and pushes your hands to your sides, so he can cradle your face instead. He kisses the first spot his lips touch, breathing all over your face. “___ oh my god.”

You chuckle softly, caressing his waist. You can feel how heavily he breathes.

“Why didn’t you let go?”

“I can’t. Not yet. If I let go, I get too tight and…”

“And you can’t get tight yet. Oh puppy, you’re such a good boy. Wanna stay loose for Mistress, mhm?”

“Yeah”, he mouths at your nose. “So loose. Oh god Mistress, please can you be inside me?”

“You’re so perfect. Lie down again, okay?”

Jungkook follows your instructions. You touch his thighs and he is already propping his legs up to give you easier access.

“Very good.”

You turn away for a second to grab a pillow, turning back to Jungkook already having lifted his butt.

“Look at you. You’re so obedient tonight.”

“I’m always obedient.”

You laugh, “no, sometimes you’re being a little brat.”

“That’s only when the concert was really fun. I’m too hyper afterwards.”

“Yeah, I noticed this too. You’re an egg, you know?”

He huffs out air, “why do you get to call me egg, but I can’t call you muffin?”

You smile and place yourself atop of him, lowering yourself to your elbows to brush your lips against his’.

“Because I say so.”

“Holy fuck, please kiss me” he breathes, mesmerised beyond saving.

“Mhm, soon”, you tease and straighten up again.

You run your palms down the inside of his thighs, calling his attention to your touch.

“Are you comfortable like this?”

“Yeah, really.”

You brush your hands past his cock, speeding up his breath because he knows what will come next. You trace the plug, meeting his eyes.

“Relax for me.”

He exhales shakily, nodding his head.

“There we go. So good.”

You pull the plug out slowly, making him moan with a throbbing cock. You moan with him, almost drooling at the view. The plug is huge. At least four inches in length and with a diameter as girthy as your strap. His hole barely wants to give it up, stretching around it as you free him from it.

“Holy fuck, you walked around with this inside?”

“Yes, oh god Mistress oh god, oh god.”

“This is so sexy. Fuck…Kook…you’re so sexy.”

The plug slips out, forcing his hole to squeeze out hot lube. Thankfully you laid out a towel under his butt because he is already making a mess.

“I hate this, oh god I wanna be filled up”, Jungkook mewls, squirming in agony.

“Soon, puppy.”

You place the plug aside and spread new lube in your palm to cover your cock with it. The excess you spread on his lose hole.

Jungkook calms down at the touch but only because it means that he will get your cock soon. He glances at you as best as the position allows.

You smile at him, scooting closer. It happens naturally that he drapes his legs over yours so your thighs were under his propped up legs and you could be so much closer. Your skins are melted together like this, sharing warmth. It feels so good to know that only you get to experience his body heat this way.

“Are you ready?”

“So ready, oh god.”

“Take a deep breath in for me.”

He obeys your command.

“Good, hold it in for three…” you guide your cock to his hole, “..two…” you touch his hole with your tip, “...one, release”, you push inside.

Jungkook release the breath in a squeaky moan, fingers gripping your thighs instantly and head rolling to the side. You stop with his rim around your tip.

“Look at me.”

He obeys.

“There we go. Keep looking at me as I slip it in. I wanna see how handsome you look.”

You move again, pushing your cock further into him. It is so easy to fill him. There is no resistance, just utter willingness to take you.

Jungkook lets out one sound - one breathy, beautiful sound - and then one tear spills from each of his eyes, running down his temples.

“Hey, are you okay? Does it hurt?”

He shakes his head, furrowing his brows as he croaks his words.

“Just love you so much.”

“Oh.” You bottom out. “I love you too.”

“___ oh god” he chokes out and rolls his eyes back, squeezing them shut. He spills new tears like this, dimpling your thighs from how needily he holds you.

“Try to breathe, okay?”

He nods his head, throwing it back a moment later when you begin rolling your hips into him. He moans your name with no hesitation, arching his back as if it was the best feeling he ever experienced.

“Is this good for you?”

“It’s the best I ever felt, oh god.”

“Shit, my stomach’s so tingly because of you. You say the hottest shit.”

“Keep moving please, oh…oh!”

His hole moves around your cock. He is so flushed on his rim and so pink inside. You see both. Just as you see his cock twitch each time you bottom out. He is trembling so much, moaning so loudly that you want to keep moving just so he doesn’t stop. Is he loud enough that the others hear him? Do the fans hear him? Is it finally enough to show them that he is yours and only yours? Parts of you hope that they can hear him moan on your strap.

You roll your hips into him, burying your cock deep in his dripping walls. You stay there, writing your name. Jungkook’s moans rise in pitch, he arches his back and curses against his will.

“Am I hitting it, mhm?”

He nods his head vigorously, leaving nail marks on your skin.

“Yeah? Right there?”

You place the flat of your palm on his lower stomach and press down. Your cock hits your palm through his stomach. Jungkook wails up, reaching up to press his hands into his eyes and twist his hair at the same time. His sculpted arms are flexed like this. The noises he makes are like music to your ears.

“Right there, I know. I can feel myself inside you, puppy. You’re so filled up with me.”

You don’t expect Jungkook to answer you. His helpless, drugged out noises are everything you need. He is such a good singer, so talented and perfect but he sounds best when you make him moan. The range he shows during such moments is impressive. How can go from deep growls to the highest squeaks and he never sounds off. Honestly, you could get off just listening to him. You really could.

“Right there, good puppy. You’re taking me so well.”

You draw circles with your palm as you fuck yourself into him. You need him stimulated from as many angles as possible. You need him to feel stuffed and feel every fucking one of your long, drawn out thrusts. You aren’t fucking him right now, you are making sweet possessive love to him. You need every second to feel like endless ecstasy to him.

And oh how it does. How you mess him up. How weak he is in your hands.

You can feel it in his stomach first then watch it in his face.

“Is this good, mhm?” you taunt.

“I have to cum.”

“Don’t let me stop you.”

Jungkook sobs your name, pulling his own hair back as he breaks around your strap. He becomes restless, but you push him down with your hand on his tensing stomach.

“There we go. Let that pressure go, such a good puppy. Cumming so good with your ass”, you talk him through it, watching in fucking obsession.

You are making him cum without touching his cock. He needed to have your strap so badly that he can orgasm just from it. Oh you are going to make him scream once he calmed down.

You give him a few moments to catch his breath after his high, allowing his hole to relax around you.

“How was that?”

Jungkook squeaks and mewls weakly, nodding his head.

Knowing he is too ruined to see, you spread more lube on your cock then finally lay yourself atop of him.

One hard thrust is all it takes. Jungkook rips his eyes open, taking it with a squeal and his brown eyes so big.

“You’re not done. Hear me?” You rasp, thrusting into him deeply and harshly.

“___!” He yelps, grabbing your shoulders.

Your eyes are darkened and widened in craze, pinning him down until he feels small and tiny. His hole is throbbing, his insides are so sensitive. Jungkook’s toes curl against his will, he hears his own pulse in his head. This is so overstimulating and he can’t escape it.

Another deep thrust forces him to slip closer to the edge. You chase him, using the momentum to drill your cock into him until his ass connects with your thighs in a loud slap. His back bends, his feet fly into the air and collide with your lower back.

“Yeah, that’s it. Wrap your legs around me”, encourage him in a growl, twisting the sheets beside his head. His weakened fingers fall from your shoulders, grabbing his own hair again as he cries under you.

“Mhm look at your arms like this, so fucking sexy”, you rasp, licking along his biceps before you end it with a deep thrust. The kind which shakes him to his very core and drags an ecstatic moan from his tongue.

You lick his other arm as well, rewarding his very presence with another thrust. Jungkook shakes under you, stomach convulsing and hole desperately trying to push you out. Not that he wants you out. It happens against his will. You fuck him so good that his body reacts by trying to push. It brings the most sensitive parts to the surface. The parts which are soft and tender and so easily stimulated. Jungkook keeps switching between clenching and pushing, having no control over it as you have him under your spell.

All he can do is make whatever kind of noises you fuck out of him and pray that he will survive this night. You are so assertive in your thrusts, so possessive in the way you claim him. Granted, you always get a little possessive when you peg him, but tonight it is the main motivator for each of your skilled thrusts and it’s ruining him.

“You’re mine. Holy shit, you’re mine.”

Jungkook wants to say it back, but he can’t. He rarely loses his ability to speak, but he has no words left tonight. You never felt like this before. You never fucked with such force, such depth and craze. And he never felt so frail before. He is so much stronger than you and yet he can’t use any of it right now. His legs tremble around your waist against his will, his arms feel like useless noodles as you lick and bite them repeatedly and his torso is on fire from the constant pleasure you shoot up his body.

He is yours. Don’t be mistaken. He is yours and yours and yours. He just can’t say back. He physically can’t talk.

“All of this is mine. Shit puppy, I love you like fucking crazy. I need help.”

You bite his biceps especially hard, making him sob and drop his arms weakly. His flesh slips from your teeth, his messy face comes into your view. He looks ruined. Teary, snotty, sweaty and flushed. You lower yourself to your elbows and cradle his face, resting your forehead against his’ while your hips chase his depths.

“All mine. For life”, you whisper.

“You’re making me cum”, he sobs, orgasming on your length a second later. He reaches for your face and cries, whimpering your name like his last call for saving. But there is no saving him from the kind of high you give him. He has to get through it even if it feels so good that he loses himself to it. Even if it is so hot that his body is burning. Even if it digs so deep that he actually feels every single nerve in his body make sense of it.

And because you are you, you make it even better by picking up his cock and jerking it off quickly.

Jungkook screams, fleeing you until his head falls over the edge and tangles in the air. You chase him, drilling his throbbing hole in quick rolls of your hips while your hand milks his cock.

“Give me everything, puppy. Every single drop.”

“I have to pee! Please too much! Too much. I’ll piss myself, please!”

“Don’t hold back. Let it happen, puppy. Fucking piss yourself for me.”

You twist your hand around his cockhead and fuck his swollen prostate, sealing his fate. The stimulation is too much, the pleasure too big. Jungkook gets set off one last time, finally orgasming with his cock. He shoots a huge load of creamy cum at first, covering his own torso and parts of the sheets. Then it happens just as he had said. He spurts sweet pee everywhere, crying like a pathetic boy as you help him get reborn.

You climax like this with him, spilling tears from the beautiful view in front of you. You own him to the point where you control his bodily functions. He pisses himself for you and screams your name as he does. This is like heroin to you.

Jungkook tightens up painfully after his high. He reaches for you with one hand, using the other to hit the mattress in his safety gesture.

You let go of him instantly, stilling your hips.

“Out please out.”

“I am. Relax and breathe. Breathe.”

You slip out of his painfully tight hole, soothing it afterwards with soft rubs.

“Breathe baby, it’s already done.”

“Holy fuck, oh god”, he croaks and then the next moments are filled with sounds of you and him catching your breaths.

You know that he needs this and you need it too. You can’t stop looking at him and the puddle he left on his own torso. His own cum mixes with it. His sweat does too. He did this for you. Because you told him to. You really don’t have to worry, do you?

Jungkook comes back to you, trying to sit up.

“Ah, everything hurts”, he gives up, head still tangling over the edge.

“Wait. I’ll wipe you down and then help.”

He lets you clean him.

“Wrap your arms around me.”

He obeys, giggling in surprise when you tug him up moments later. Like this, you and he are facing each other, legs tangled together and bodies so close. You cradle his neck and rub his upper back, gazing into his beautiful eyes.

He has his fingers in your hair as deeply as possible, eyes lost in yours.

“I love you”, you whisper.

“I love you too”, he breathes and spills tears.

You wipe them instantly, “don’t cry.”

“I’m happy. You made me feel so good.”

“Yeah? It felt so good for me too. Oh Kookie”, you cradle his cheeks, resting your forehead against his’, “you peed yourself for me.”

“I would do it again. It’d do anything for you.” He hugs you, face hidden in the safe crook of your neck. “I never experienced something like this before. Not with anyone. I can’t believe this happened to me. Thank you, ___. It felt so good, you have no idea.”

“Mmh no I think I’m getting an idea.”

“You do?”

“You’re making me squirt regularly, remember?”

He snickers, nodding his head.

“I know how you felt.” You hug him tighter. “I’m so glad you felt this way. Shit baby, I feel so giddy. This was so perfect for me.”

“Yes, it was perfect. Thank you for being like this. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

He nuzzles and sighs. There is no more bad blood between you and him. You love him and he loves you, it is finally clear to both of you again. This is all that you needed tonight. Oh, how wonderful it is to be together.

“So, about room service. I was thinking. We could order two things from the menu each and then share it. So we get to try lots of food.”

“I get that the pegging made you hungry?”

“Mhm, you basically fucked a new stomach into me. I gotta fill it.”

You laugh loudly, breaking away to look at him.

“It’s stuff like that which makes you an egg. You say the weirdest stuff. Only an egg can do that.”

He laughs.

“Well, only muffins complain about this which makes you The Muffin of all the muffins.”

“Oh Kook, you cutie. I’m so happy with you”, you giggle, pulling him back into the hug. One which he falls into gladly and with a fluttering heart. “Don’t ever break my heart. Hear me?” you say, plead even.

“I wouldn’t even dream of it. Your heart is safe with me. Actually, I’ll build it its own cozy home and make sure it’s always taken care of. Yeah, that’s what I’ll do. If your heart was a flower, I would water it each day and give it sunlight so it won’t ever have to wither away.”

You melt with him, spilling tears on his naked shoulder.

“I love you, Jeon Jungkook.”

“I love you too, ___.”

795 notes · View notes

keehomania · 4 months ago

Text

business proposal (제안서) — kim seokjin (김석진)

✧.* 18+

a closer look reveals the hidden multitude of narcissists roaming freely across the earth. they moved through life as ordinary figures—doctors, lawyers—sharing the same vulnerability of human blood. yet, there lingered a belief in their superiority, an unspoken arrogance. among them, businessmen appeared to embody that conceit most profoundly.

kim enterprises had the value of 1.5 billion won. a leading technology firm specializing in cutting-edge ai solutions and smart home devices. founded on the principles of advancing human-technology synergy, the company designs state-of-the-art gadgets that seamlessly integrate with daily life. under the visionary leadership of kim seokjin, the president’s son, the company has gained a reputation for pushing boundaries and setting new industry standards. currently, it lies at the forefront of revolutionizing smart technology, with a diverse portfolio ranging from intelligent automation systems to next-generation personal assistants.

impressive, really. it'd have been much more impressive if he was as likeable as his company. he was a narcissist in the purest form, no matter how much he cared for the company and his employees. only because no care would amount to the kind he put into himself.

the company had been running smoothly under his care for nine years, as his father had fallen ill and was unable to sustain it on his own. he knew he was making the right decision when he deemed seokjin the next heir, the next in control. he was smart, charming, persuasive. he knew every corner and end of a business deal, how to tie the knots and when to cut off loose ends.

“kim, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person. i must say, kim enterprises has been on our radar for quite some time.” seokjin shook his hand firmly, returning the smile. “the pleasure is mine, james. i've been following your company’s progress closely as well. it’s impressive how you’ve carved out a niche in ai development.”

james’s eyes lit up. “thank you. we’re particularly interested in your smart home integration systems. from what i understand, your latest model has seen a significant uptick in market share.” seokjin’s smile widened, “yes, our quantum series has been a game-changer. we’ve seen a 30% increase in market penetration over the past year. the integration of adaptive ai has really resonated with consumers, allowing for a more intuitive user experience.”

james nodded, clearly pleased. “exactly. that’s why we’re keen on a partnership. our research indicates that your technology complements our upcoming product line perfectly. what terms are you envisioning for this deal?” seokjin considered the question thoughtfully. “given the scope of the integration and the potential for cross-promotion, i’d suggest a revenue-sharing model. we propose a 60-40 split in favor of kim enterprises for the first two years. this would allow us to leverage your distribution network while providing you with a substantial stake in the revenue generated.”

james raised an eyebrow, thoughtful. “that’s a fair proposition. but considering the development and marketing costs, how about adjusting the split to 50-50 initially, with a performance-based adjustment thereafter?” seokjin weighed the offer, then nodded. “i see your point. let’s compromise at 55-45, with a performance review after the first year to reassess the terms. we can draft a detailed agreement to reflect this.”

james’s expression softened into one of admiration. “agreed. your understanding of both the technology and market dynamics is impressive, kim. it’s clear you’ve put a lot of thought into this.”

seokjin’s eyes sparkled with resolve. “thank you, james. i believe in building partnerships that are beneficial for both sides. our goal is not just to expand our market presence but to also deliver exceptional value through innovative collaborations.” james raised his glass with a smile. “well said. i look forward to working with you. let’s toast to a successful partnership.”

he truly was a natural, he knew exactly what to say and how to say it. however, even if he was reluctant to admit it, he couldn't have done it on his own.

you navigated the room with a calm, poised demeanor, your sharp eyes scanning for any potential issues or tasks that needed attention. you approached seokjin with a subtle nod, a tablet in hand. he acknowledged the gesture, his eyes flickering with appreciation. “i’ve just received the finalized draft of the agreement,” you said quietly, sliding the tablet over to him. “i made sure to include the revised revenue split and the performance review clause you discussed with james.”

he glanced at the document, his expression approving. “perfect timing. you’ve captured all the necessary details. thanks for handling this so efficiently.” james, intrigued, looked at you. “i must say, it’s clear that you play a crucial role in ensuring everything runs smoothly. your attention to detail must be invaluable.”

you smiled modestly. “thank you, james. it’s my job to make sure that the priorities are met and that every aspect of our deal is thoroughly managed. it’s a pleasure to contribute to the success of our partnerships.” as you stepped back, you made a quick call to coordinate a follow-up meeting with the legal team, ensuring that all paperwork would be processed without delay. your presence was a testament to the meticulous planning that underpinned seokjin's success.

although he was the brains behind the operation, you were the one that made sure the operation was in action. you coordinated all of his appointments and travel arrangements, handled all of his phone calls, drafted all of the reports and presentations, organized all of the meetings, supported all of the projects, and so much more. you were good at your job, and you loved it.

it was one of the many reasons why that same night, in the back of seokjin's limo, he had met your words with a look of horror displayed on his face. you remained stoic as you adjusted the hem of your dress, pushing your hair past your shoulder before meeting his gaze once more. “you want to quit?” you nodded in confirmation. the question itself held more shock than intended, but he couldn't help it. your announcement had put a dent in the night. you had been his left hand for exactly nine years and, out of the blue, you had announced that you were ready to leave the company.

the city lights blurred past the windows as you sat in the back of seokjin's sleek, black limousine. the leather seats were soft beneath you, but there was tension in the air that makes you sit a little straighter, hands folded tightly in your lap. seokjin was beside you, scrolling through his phone with a practiced ease, oblivious to the storm brewing in your mind.

“it's personal,” you explained, trying to keep your tone even. “i have some matters in my life that need my full attention right now.” he stared at you, disbelief etched on his features. “after nine years? just like that?”

“i'm sorry,” you said, your heart aching with each word. “but it's something i have to do.” seokjin's jaw tightened, but he nodded curtly. “if that's your decision, i won't stand in your way.” the rest of the ride passed in heavy silence, the atmosphere between you both laden with unspoken words and shared sorrow. you could only gaze at the fleeting cars through the window, oblivious to the hurt etched into what was supposed to be his stoic expression.

that night, he found himself tossing and turning in his grand, empty bed. sleep eluded him, chased away by a persistent nightmare. in it, he saw a woman with long, black hair, her back always turned to him. no matter how much he called out and cried, she never looked back, slipping further away with each step. he woke up in a cold sweat, the image of the woman haunting him. the clock beside his bed read that it was only four o'clock. frustrated and unsettled, he spent the rest of the night staring at the ceiling, unable to shake the sense of impending loss.

the following morning, he stood in front of the mirror in his expansive bedroom, the morning light filtering through the curtains. his shirt was buttoned, but his tie lies undone around his neck. he waited, as he always did, for you. when you arrived, your expression was composed, professional. "good morning, vice chairman."

he nodded, his eyes fixed on your reflection in the mirror. “morning, secretary (y/n).” you stepped forward, deftly tying his tie with practiced hands, the sound of your name stinging more than necessary. the proximity, once a simple part of your routine, now felt charged with the weight of your impending departure.

he gazed at himself in the mirror, his ego surfacing as a way to mask his vulnerability. “do you see that? the beauty?” you glanced at the mirror, assuming he meant the sunlight casting a golden glow across the room. “yes, the sunrise is beautiful.” a faint smirk touched his lips. “no, not the sunrise. me. my aura.”

you suppressed a sigh, knowing that it was nothing but the the standard for him. “yes, very dazzling, vice chairman.” satisfied, he turned away from the mirror and straightened his suit jacket. “let's go. we have breakfast at my parents' house.”

the drive to the kim family estate was quiet, the earlier tension replaced by a heavy resignation. seokjin's family home was grand, an imposing structure surrounded by meticulously maintained gardens. inside, you were greeted by his mother, her warm smile a stark contrast to the austere demeanor of the chairman. “good morning, hyeon. (y/n), it's always a pleasure to see you.”

“good morning, mother,” seokjin replied, his tone polite yet distant. the chairman nodded at you both, his presence commanding respect. “let's eat.”

breakfast was a formal affair, the table laden with an array of traditional dishes. conversation was polite, centered around business and family matters. seokjin's parents were unaware of your decision to leave, and you caught seokjin's gaze more than once, a silent understanding passing between you. as the meal progressed, you couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness. that world, so intertwined with his, had been your life for nearly a decade. leaving it behind wouldn't be easy.

breakfast ended, and the chairman suggested that he and his son retire to the study room for a private discussion. you followed his mother to the sitting room, where she invited you to join her for tea. she was a gracious host, her demeanor warm and inviting. “how have you been, sweetheart? it feels like forever since we had a proper chat,” she said, pouring tea into delicate porcelain cups.

you smiled, taking the offered cup. “i've been well, mrs. kim. thank you.” her eyes sparkled with curiosity. “tell me, what do you think about my hyeon? he talks about you often.”

you paused, considering your words carefully. you knew she was an older lady, so you didn't question the way she misnamed him. her memory had probably grown shabby. “he's an exceptional leader, very dedicated to his work. it's been an honor to work with him.” she nodded, her smile widening. “yes, he's always been very driven. but tell me, is my son seeing anyone? he never mentions these things to me.”

you shook your head. “despite all the girls around him, he's not dating anyone.” mrs. kim's eyes widened in horror. “he's not— gay, is he?”

you stifled a laugh, shaking your head again. “no, mrs. kim, he's not. he's just very focused on his work.” she sighed in relief, placing a hand over her heart. “thank goodness. it would be wonderful for him to finally get a girlfriend. he's not getting any younger, you know.” you couldn't help but wonder at her words. the idea of him with someone else felt oddly unsettling.

in the study room, seokjin's father, chairman kim, sat behind an imposing oak desk, his expression stern. “i heard a rumor, seokjin. (y/n) is quitting?” his jaw tightened, but he met his father's gaze steadily. “it's true. but i won't let it happen.”

chairman kim raised an eyebrow. “and how do you plan to stop it?” seokjin's voice was firm. “i'll find a way to convince her to stay. she's indispensable to me.”

a moment of silence passed before chairman kim's lips twitched into a faint smile. “are you dating her?” seokjin blinked, momentarily taken aback. “no, father, i'm not.”

the chairman feigned a dramatic gasp, clutching his chest. “oh, i feel faint. my son, the great seokjin, not dating his perfect secretary.” he rolled his eyes, a rare display of exasperation. “i've seen your medical records, father. you're perfectly healthy.”

chairman kim waved a dismissive hand. “you should do your father a favor and find a wife, give us grandchildren. it's time you settled down.” seokjin sighed, the weight of his father's words lingering. he had never been in a relationship, and neither had you. it was one of the reasons you knew you had to quit. your life revolved around your work, as did his. only, you weren't satisfied with that. it wasn't that he wasn't attracted to anybody, because he was, but nothing mattered more than his craft. he felt off about women touching him, in any case. it made him anxious, and brought up memories he fought to keep hidden.

you and seokjin departed for the office, the morning sun casting long shadows across the driveway as the car pulled away from the estate. the ride was initially silent, both of you lost in thought. he finally broke the silence, “what exactly did you mean by personal matters?” his tone was careful, almost hesitant.

you turned to him, offering a small smile. “i'm looking to settle down, vice chairman. i want to get married, have children.” he fell silent, the weight of your words settling over him. the rest of the ride to the office was steeped in an unusual quiet, your declaration hanging in the air like a specter.

upon arriving at the office, he moved through the halls in a daze. his usual commanding presence seemed diminished, his mind clearly elsewhere. he entered his office, finding his younger intern already there. “good morning, vice chairman,” jungkook greeted cheerfully, his youthful energy a contrast to seokjin's subdued demeanor.

he barely acknowledged him, slumping into his chair. jungkook, sensing something was off, leaned forward with a curious smile. “you look like you've seen a ghost. what's up?” seokjin rubbed his temples, sighing. “it's secretary (l/n). she wants to quit.”

jungkook raised an eyebrow. “oh? did you try offering her a promotion, bigger pay, fewer working hours?” he nodded in response. “i did. she dismissed it all. said she wants to settle down, get married, have children.”

jungkook's eyes twinkled with mischief. “and that shocked you?” seokjin glared at him, but his grin remained unshaken. “why does it bother you so much, vice chairman? do you like her more than just a secretary?” the question lingered in the air, met with silence. his mind raced, trying to comprehend why your decision affected him so deeply. he couldn't deny the pang of jealousy at the thought of you with someone else, starting a life that didn't include him.

jungkook leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “maybe it's time to ask yourself why her leaving matters so much to you.” he remained quiet, lost in thought. How could marriage and a family be more important than the bond you shared with him? the realization struck him hard—perhaps it wasn't just about losing an exceptional secretary. maybe, just maybe, it was about losing you.

a knock on the door disrupted the tense silence between the two men. you entered, carrying a tray with a steaming pot of tea and three cookies on the side, exactly how seokjin liked it. the aroma of the tea briefly lightened the atmosphere. he looked up, his expression softening momentarily at the sight of you. “thank you, secretary (l/n).”

you placed the tray on the table, pouring a cup of tea for him and setting it in on his desk. “i've sent out emails looking for a future secretary. one of the primary candidates is on her way.” jungkook observed the way his face twisted with hurt at your words. despite the pain evident in his eyes, seokjin maintained his composure. “join us while we wait for her.”

you nodded, taking a seat beside the young intern. the room fell into an uncomfortable silence, broken only by the ticking of the clock. seokjin sipped his tea, the familiar taste doing little to ease his troubled mind.

a few minutes later, the door opened, and a young woman entered. she had a bright, cheerful demeanor, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “hello, i'm jung keulgi. it's an honor to be here.” seokjin straightened, adopting his usual authoritative posture. “miss jung, are you ready to devote yourself to a perfect company?” she beamed. “absolutely! i'm very excited for this opportunity.”

you couldn't help but roll your eyes at the narcissistic question. “are you prepared to handle working for someone with an ego as big as the company?” keulgi sensed the underlying tension but maintained her cheerful facade. “i'm sure i'll manage.”

seokjin continued, his tone growing sharper. “will you stay devoted instead of quitting due to silly things like personal matters?” the tension in the room escalated. you snapped, unable to hold back any longer. “are you done, vice chairman?”

his eyes flashed with anger. “about as done as you are, secretary (l/n).” keulgi, clearly uncomfortable but trying to stay positive, interjected softly, “if you hire me, i'll do my best.”

seokjin didn't take his eyes off you as he replied, “you're hired.” as he turned to you, his voice was cold and demanding. “you have a month to turn her into your carbon copy. after that, do as you please.” the room fell silent once more as the weight of his words settled over you. keulgi glanced between you and him, her cheerful demeanor now tinged with apprehension.

he stood, signaling the end of the meeting. “that will be all for now. welcome to kim enterprises, miss jung.” she nodded, offering a hesitant smile. “thank you, vice chairman.”

as she left the room, you remained seated, the gravity of your situation sinking in. seokjin's harsh command echoed in your mind, a painful reminder of the rift that had formed between you. jungkook, sensing the need for a distraction, cleared his throat. “well, this is going to be interesting.”

seokjin shot him a glare. “you're dismissed, jungkook.” with a playful salute, he left the room, leaving you and him alone once more. the silence was heavy, filled with the unspoken emotions and unresolved tension. he finally broke the silence, his voice softer but still edged with hurt. “you can have the rest of the day off.”

you glanced up at him in disbelief, but you weren't willing to argue any further. all you could do was nod and bow before leaving the room. he was alone, once more. he couldn't do anything but watch as you left, gulping as if to hold himself back from calling out your name. you could train all the candidates in the world, yet it would never be the same.

you stood at your kitchen sink, washing the last of the dinner dishes as the sun set, casting a warm orange glow through the window. the evening was peaceful, the kind of tranquility you had been craving. as you dried your hands and prepared to head to bed, the sudden blare of a car horn startled you. peeking out the window, you saw seokjin standing next to his sleek black car, looking up at your house.

heart pounding with a mix of surprise and curiosity, you hurried outside. “vice chairman? is everything okay?” he shook his head, a slight smile playing on his lips. “no emergencies, secretary (l/n). i just needed to see you.” you frowned, puzzled. “at this hour? what's so urgent?”

his eyes locked onto yours, intense and searching. “are you serious about quitting to settle down?” you nodded, feeling a familiar pang of sadness. “i am. i'm ready to put all my attention on a relationship.”

his expression shifted, the gravity of your words sinking in. he took a deep breath, and then, to your astonishment, he did the unthinkable. he dropped to one knee and pulled out a small velvet box, opening it to reveal a dazzling diamond ring.

“marry me, secretary (l/n). i'm rich, handsome, and more than capable of giving you everything you want.” you stared at him, completely taken aback. his usual confidence seemed both reassuring and out of place in this moment. he continued, his voice earnest, almost pleading. “i'm perfect for you. accept my proposal.”

his words hung in the air as you tried to process what was happening. finally, you leaned in close, your face inches from his, and inhaled deeply. seokjin's heart stopped, anticipation flickering in his eyes. but instead of a kiss, you pulled back, your expression skeptical.

“are you drunk, vice chairman?” he blinked, clearly taken aback. “no, i'm sober. i'm serious.”

you laughed softly, shaking your head. “i believe you. but vice chairman, i don't want a perfect life with a perfect man. i just want to be with an ordinary guy from an ordinary family.” his face fell, his confident facade crumbling. “why not me? i'm perfect!”

you smiled, despite the annoyance of his narcissistic words clawing at your nerves, and you chose the easy way out. assuring him that he was nothing but flawless was the only way to get him to stop talking about it. “that's exactly why. you deserve someone who sees you that way, but it's not me.” the rejection hung heavy between you as you turned and walked back into your house, leaving him kneeling in the fading light.

the following day, he recounted the entire incident to jungkook, who listened with wide eyes. when he finally finished, the intern burst into laughter, unable to contain himself despite the glares from his boss.

“vice chairman, you can't just propose out of the blue like that, this isn't the eighteenth century,” jungkook said, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes.

his frown deepened, but he couldn't argue with jungkook's logic. “so, what should i have done, then?” he shrugged, still grinning. “maybe start by asking her on a date? get to know her outside of work. build a relationship first. you can't skip straight to marriage, no matter how perfect you think you are.”

the elder mulled over his words, realizing the truth in them. he had acted impulsively, driven by a fear of losing you, but dating? he was actively unfamiliar with the entire thing. in fact, he thought it was pointless. nothing but a waste of time, but if it meant stopping you from quitting, maybe it was wasting time in the best way possible.

you sat in your office, typing away at your computer, but your mind kept drifting back to the previous night. the image of your boss on one knee, his earnest proposal, and your subsequent rejection played on a loop in your head. the weight of your decision and its implications loomed large.

“hey, (y/n),” a familiar voice broke through your thoughts. you looked up to see kim namjoon, the head of finances, standing at your desk. his expression was a mix of concern and curiosity. “is it true? are you really leaving?” you offered him a kind smile and nodded. “yes, namjoon. it's true.”

the news seemed to ripple through the office. baekhyun and sooyoung, who were nearby, immediately voiced their protests. “you can't be serious!” baekhyun exclaimed, his usually cheerful demeanor clouded with disappointment. sooyoung nodded vigorously. “yeah, you've been here forever! what are we going to do without you?”

keulgi, who had been quietly observing, chimed in. “i've heard so much about your amazing work. it's going to be hard to fill your shoes.” you felt a pang of guilt but tried to reassure them with a smile on your face. “we'll all stay in touch. it's not like i'm disappearing.”

sooyoung then brightened, a mischievous glint in her eye. “how about we have a dinner after work? to welcome keulgi and to honor your nine years of hard work.” you hesitated, not wanting to make a big deal out of your departure. but keulgi's encouraging smile swayed you. “come on, it would be nice.” with a reluctant smile, you agreed.

the moment was cut short as the door to the office opened and seokjin walked in. the room fell silent, all eyes turning to him. he let the silence hang for a moment before speaking, his gaze locked onto yours. “am i invited to this dinner as well?” the tension was palpable. baekhyun hesitated before responding, glancing around at the others. “of course, vice chairman. you're welcome to join us.”

seokjin's smile was tight as he nodded. “very well. i'll see you all there.” he left the room as suddenly as he had entered, leaving your heart heavy with unspoken emotions. namjoon broke the silence, his tone light but his words carrying weight. “is it just me, or did it suddenly get cold in here?” the others murmured their agreement, exchanging glances.

“i don't know what's going on,” baekhyun said, shaking his head. “but he's been awfully on edge lately.” you remained silent, the weight of your decision and seokjin's reaction pressing heavily on your mind. the upcoming dinner promised to be an eventful one, but you couldn't shake the feeling that it would also be pivotal in the worst way possible.

you stood in front of your mirror, giving yourself a once-over. you had opted for a casual outfit, perfect for the laid-back atmosphere of the local barbeque spot where your colleagues were hosting your farewell dinner. just as you were adjusting your hair, a loud honk interrupted your thoughts. curiosity piqued, you peered out the window to see none other than seokjin, leaning against his car, looking as out of place in your neighborhood as a peacock in a flock of pigeons.

you opened the window and leaned out. “what are you doing here?” he glanced up, a smirk playing on his lips. “i'm not here to propose again, if that's what you're worried about. i'm here to pick you up.” your eyebrows shot up in surprise, “why?”

“isn't it so ordinary of me to go with my coworkers?” he replied, clearly pleased with himself. you shook your head, amusement dancing in your eyes. “yes, well done, vice chairman. give me a minute.”

you grabbed your bag and headed downstairs. as you stepped outside, you noticed his attire—an expensive suit that screamed high-end fashion. you stifled a laugh, knowing he would stand out like a sore thumb at the spot you had all agreed on. nonetheless, you entertained his gesture and got into the car. the drive was filled with light conversation, mostly about work and the upcoming transition. despite the casual nature of the evening, you could sense his effort to blend in, which you found oddly endearing. when you arrived at the restaurant, the familiar scent of grilled meat and beer wafted through the air, making seokjin's face contort in mild disgust. you chuckled at his reaction. “welcome to the real world, vice chairman.”

inside, your colleagues greeted you warmly, their eyes widening in surprise when they saw their boss. he maintained his composure, though you could see his discomfort. at the table, he attempted to take charge. “what's everyone drinking?” he asked, clearly expecting a sophisticated answer. “perhaps an old variation of whisky?”

a stunned silence fell over the group, everyone staring at him in disbelief. you nervously laughed. “they only serve beer and soju here, vice chairman.” for a moment, you expected him to bristle at the lack of his preferred drink. instead, he stifled a sigh and nodded. “beer it is, then.”

as the evening progressed, you found yourself reminiscing. it had been nine years since you first joined kim enterprises, and you vividly remembered celebrating your first day in this very spot. you were drinking beer when a younger seokjin had approached you, his demeanor confident and slightly arrogant. “do you know who i am?” he'd asked, and you'd honestly had no clue. little did you know back then just how egotistical he was.

now, years later, you watched him attempt to navigate this ordinary setting. as the night wore on, you noticed the subtle signs of him getting tipsy. his cheeks flushed, his laughter louder and more uninhibited. eventually, you decided it was time to call it a night. “i think i should take him home,” you said, standing up.

your colleagues protested, but you promised to make it up to them. they relented, and you guided a slightly unsteady seokjin to his car. the drive to his house was quiet, his head leaning back against the seat, eyes half-closed.

when you arrived, you helped him inside, supporting his weight as you guided him to his bedroom. you gently eased him onto the bed, intending to leave as soon as he was settled. but just as you were about to turn away, he grabbed your wrist, pulling you down onto the bed. you fell on top of him, your faces inches apart. his eyes, though slightly glazed, held a seriousness that made your heart race. “pretty ordinary of me to get drunk off beer, right?” he slurred, a lazy smile on his lips. your breath caught in your throat. “yes, very ordinary.”

“thank you, secretary (l/n),” he mumbled, his eyes closing. he fell asleep almost instantly, his grip on your wrist loosening. you stayed there for a moment, your heart pounding, before carefully tucking him in. you watched him for a few seconds longer, your emotions a whirlwind. finally, you tore yourself away, quietly leaving his house and heading home, your mind a jumble of thoughts and feelings you couldn't quite name.

the following morning, you arrived at the office early, keen to begin the handover process with keulgi. the usual hustle and bustle of the workplace greeted you, but today there was an undercurrent of anticipation and anxiety. it was the beginning of your final month at kim enterprises, and you wanted to ensure everything transitioned smoothly.

as you were explaining the intricacies of the office dynamics to keulgi, seokjin entered, looking visibly worse for wear. he massaged his temples, clearly nursing a headache from the previous night. you couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt. you followed him into his office, where he promptly sank into his chair, wincing slightly.

“good morning, vice chairman,” you greeted, trying to keep your tone professional despite your concern. “morning,” he muttered, barely looking up.

despite your concern, you exited the office, re-joining keulgi in order to show her around. “so, these are the folders you'll need to keep track of—client files, project updates, and financial reports. everything is color-coded for easy access. emails are prioritized into high, medium, and low urgency. make sure to flag anything that needs immediate attention.”

she nodded, absorbing the information. “got it. and what about his schedule?” you handed her a tablet with his meticulously planned itinerary. “his schedule is very tight. make sure to coordinate with all department heads and external partners. he's very particular about his meetings being on time.”

as you continued the walkthrough, keulgi mentioned, “oh, by the way, i noticed one of the legs on his chair was falling apart, so i put it together with some cables.�� your eyes widened in shock, “what kind of cables?”

“rubber cables,” she replied, confusion etched on her face at your reaction. your heart sank. without another word, you rushed into seokjin's office, your pulse racing. the sight that greeted you confirmed your worst fears. he was on the floor, shaking, his head in his hands, his entire demeanor shattered.

“vice chairman!” you cried out, rushing to his side. “i'm so sorry, she didn't know—” he didn't respond, his breathing erratic. you quickly reached for the chair and cut off the rubber cables. the moment they were gone, his shaking subsided, though his face remained pale and his expression haunted. keulgi, realizing the gravity of the situation, joined in the apologies, her voice frantic. ”i'm so sorry, vice chairman. i didn't know—“

seokjin's gaze was ice cold as he finally looked up at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of anger and something you couldn't quite place. “is this how you're carrying out your duties, secretary (l/n)?” you stood there, stunned and silent. the warmth and camaraderie of the previous night seemed like a distant memory. his words cut through you like a knife, and for the first time, you had no response.

seokjin struggled to his feet, regaining his composure with great effort. “leave,” he commanded quietly, the tension in his voice unmistakable. you and keulgi hurried out of the office, the weight of the incident heavy on your shoulders. outside, you tried to reassure her, but the shock of your boss's reaction lingered.

inside his office, he sat down once again, burying his face in his hands. he mentally cursed himself for his harsh words. his eyes fell on the rubber cables now discarded in the trash can, and a shudder ran through him. memories he'd fought to bury resurfaced, and he struggled to push them back down. the trauma, long kept at bay, clawed its way to the surface. he knew he had overreacted, and he hated himself for it. he had to apologize to you, but the thought of facing you after what had just happened seemed insurmountable. how could he explain the depth of his fear, the reason for his reaction? for now, he could only sit there, the remnants of his vulnerability on display, hoping he hadn't irrevocably damaged the fragile relationship he had with you.

he sat behind his expansive mahogany desk, its polished surface reflecting the ambient light filtering through the large, floor-to-ceiling windows of his office. the cityscape of seoul lay sprawled out behind him, but his attention was far from the view. instead, his eyes were unfocused, staring blankly at the stack of documents in front of him. his mind was elsewhere, fixated on the conversation he'd had with his intern just days ago.

jungkook, seated opposite to him with his laptop open, was discussing the final preparations for the launch of their new art gallery. the young intern's enthusiasm was palpable, his voice animated as he detailed the latest developments, the artists who had confirmed their participation, and the final touches needed for the grand opening. but despite his energetic briefing, seokjin's mind kept wandering back to a single, pivotal point in their earlier exchange.

“you can't just propose out of the blue,” jungkook had laughed, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “you need to take it slow. ask her out on a date first.”

seokjin's usually sharp mind was dulled by the weight of those words. proposing had seemed like a logical solution to him. a clear, decisive action to keep you from leaving. but now, in the wake of jungkook's advice, he realized how absurd it must have seemed. how uncharacteristically rash and desperate. the thought of asking you out on a date, a simple date, felt strangely daunting.

“vice chairman? are you listening?” jungkook's voice cut through his reverie, pulling him back to the present. he blinked, forcing his attention back to his intern. “yes, jungkook. i'm listening. the gallery—” he trailed off, struggling to find the thread of their conversation.

he raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “the gallery launch is on track. but you don't seem very interested today. is something on your mind?” he sighed in response, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair. he prided himself on his composed and unflappable demeanor, but today, he felt anything but. “it's nothing. just some personal matters, as some would say.” he couldn't bare to focus on the project at hand. no, in fact, he was ready to execute a project of his own.

the soft hum of conversation and clinking of cutlery filled the air as you and your friends settled into a cozy corner booth at a chic restaurant. the atmosphere was relaxed, with warm lighting and comfortable seating that made it perfect for a catch-up lunch. your girlfriends were animated and full of news, and you found yourself caught between genuine happiness for them and a pang of wistful longing.

one of your friends, jiho, was regaling the table with stories about her recent wedding. her eyes sparkled with joy as she described the ceremony, the heartfelt vows, and the beautiful reception. you smiled and applauded her enthusiasm, but inside, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy. the idea of finding such happiness seemed elusive, and your heart ached slightly at the thought.

“you're going to love being married,” jiho said, her voice full of contentment. "it’s just wonderful." you nodded, offering a supportive smile. “i'm so happy for you, jiho. it sounds like it was a perfect day.”

as she continued sharing details, your other friend, minji, leaned in, her eyes twinkling with a mischievous glint. “speaking of perfect days,” she began, “i have something to tell you. my husband’s friend saw your profile on social media and, well, he’s been asking about you.”

your heart skipped a beat. minji's husband had been a close friend of yours for years, but you had no idea who the friend in question was. the idea of someone from his circle showing interest was both flattering and daunting. “what’s he like?” you asked cautiously. minji grinned. “he’s a nice guy, charming and successful. i think you’d get along. how about we set up a blind date?”

you hesitated. the idea of a blind date was daunting, but the prospect of meeting someone new, especially someone vetted by friends, was appealing. you glanced at your friends' eager faces and took a deep breath. “okay, i’ll do it.” minji clapped her hands excitedly. “great! i'll set it up and let you know the details.”

just as the conversation shifted to wedding anecdotes and dating possibilities, a cheerful waitress approached your table with a friendly smile. “excuse me, ladies,” she said. “we’re conducting a survey to improve our service and, in exchange, we’d like to offer you a free appetizer. would you be interested?” your friends, always up for a little extra perk, agreed enthusiastically, and you followed suit. the waitress handed over a clipboard with a short survey and left to fetch the appetizer.

thu looked over the questions with mild curiosity. the first asked, “ideal date spot with your significant other?” the second, “ideal activities with significant other?” and the last, “ideal gift given by significant other?” you answered thoughtfully, trying to balance your idealistic dreams with the reality of your current situation. as you finished filling out the survey and handed it back to the waitress, you felt a slight nagging sense of familiarity with the tone of the questions. they seemed familiarly bosay and demanding, almost like they were trying to gauge your relationship ideals with a hint of urgency. but you brushed off the feeling, focusing instead on the excitement of the impending blind date and the lively conversation with your friends.

in the dimly lit rec room of seokjin's luxurious house, the soft clack of pool balls punctuated the otherwise quiet evening. jungkook lounged on the leather sofa, his gaze fixed on him, who was confidently taking shots at the pool table with practiced ease. the game seemed to serve as a backdrop for their conversation, but jungkook's attention was focused on the stack of papers spread out on the coffee table.

“you did what?” his voice was a mix of incredulity and disbelief as he stared at the surveys before him. the questions and answers were neatly recorded on the forms, and jungkook couldn't believe what he was seeing. seokjin, with a proud smirk, took another shot, his movements graceful and deliberate. “i paid the restaurant to hand out those surveys,” he said, a hint of satisfaction in his tone. “i wanted to see what kind of answer i'd get. and now, i need you to find the one with her name on it.”

jungkook’s eyebrows shot up in shock. “you’re seriously crazy, this is way over the top.” ignoring the incredulous glares from his elder, he picked up the stack of surveys and began sifting through them. his hands moved quickly, flipping through each paper as he muttered under his breath. “this is insane. what are you trying to accomplish?”

seokjin, meanwhile, remained focused on his game, the smirk never leaving his face. his confidence was unwavering, but jungkook could sense a trace of anxious anticipation beneath the surface. after what felt like an eternity to him, he finally spotted the survey with your name. he held it up, slightly hesitant. “here it is. this is the one.”

his eyes lit up with a mixture of excitement and triumph. he rushed over, snatching the paper from his hands with a deft movement. his gaze was fixed on the survey, and as he read through your answers, his smirk broadened into a genuine, if somewhat smug, smile.

“how childish,” he remarked aloud, his voice laced with a blend of amusement and satisfaction. he began reading your responses aloud with a playful tone. “ideal date spot: an amusement park. ideal activities: rides, very charming. ideal gift: a teddy bear.” jungkook watched, his initial skepticism replaced by bemused curiosity. “seriously? you’re actually taking this seriously?” he had never been more serious.

the call came just after you wrapped up your brief lunch with your friends, the sound of seokjin’s voice crackling through the speaker, urgent and commanding. “you need to meet me immediately,” he said, his tone brooking no argument. he gave you the coordinates, and you found yourself driving across town with a mix of curiosity and trepidation. arriving at the amusement park, you were surprised to see it eerily quiet and closed for the night. you sat on a bench near the entrance, trying to piece together what he could have possibly wanted in such an unconventional setting. the minutes ticked by slowly until seokjin finally appeared, stepping out of the darkness with his usual confident stride.

“what’s going on?” you asked, rising from the bench to meet him. “why did you bring me here?” his eyes twinkled with a secretive glint. “we’re going to be here for the night. i have a ‘free pass,’ so to speak.”

you blinked, puzzled. “a free pass? but the park is closed.” seokjin simply smiled, taking your hand and leading you towards the entrance. “just follow me.”

as you walked through the empty park, the moonlight casting long shadows across the deserted grounds, you couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and apprehension. he guided you to one of the rollercoasters, and despite your protests, he insisted on riding it first. the rollercoaster roared to life, and as you climbed higher and higher, your heart raced with a blend of thrill and terror. when the ride finally came to a stop, you were visibly shaken, your hands still gripping the safety bar as if it were your lifeline.

he turned to you, his face stoic but his eyes searching. “did you have fun?” you hesitated, your voice trembling. “it was fun, i guess.”

he raised an eyebrow, sensing your unease. “why do you seem so hesitant?” you sighed, feeling a bit embarrassed. “it was too scary. i wasn’t expecting it to be so intense.” he looked at you with a mixture of concern and amusement. “then why did you go on it?”

“because you asked me to,” you admitted. a smile curved his lips, and he quickly shifted gears. “alright then, let’s go on rides you want to enjoy.” your face lit up with relief and excitement. you led him towards the merry-go-round, and as the ride spun in gentle circles, you felt a wave of childhood nostalgia. you waved enthusiastically, feeling the pure joy of the moment. he watched you, his gaze softening as he took in your happiness.

the merry-go-round went around seven times, and as you disembarked, you couldn’t stop smiling. seokjin then guided you into the park’s restaurant. to your surprise, the place was completely empty.

“what’s all of this?” you asked, glancing around in awe. he shrugged casually. “i rented everything out for the night. consider it a going-away present.”

your heart fluttered at his gesture. “thank you, vice chairman.” he smiled, slicing a steak and placing it in front of you. as you dug into the meal, he glanced at you with genuine interest. “why did you enjoy the merry-go-round so much?”

you hesitated, then opened up. “it was one of my favorite rides as a child. i used to watch it from afar, because my parents never had the money to let me actually ride it.” hiw expression softened, a shadow of sadness crossing his face. “i'm sorry to hear that.”

the meal continued in a comfortable silence, broken only by the occasional clinking of cutlery. after you finished, hw told you there was one more surprise. “just be patient,” he said with a hint of mischief in his eyes. curious, you followed him outside to a spot overlooking the sea. As you waited, the crackling sound of fireworks filled the air, bursting into vibrant colors against the night sky. your eyes widened with delight as you watched the display.

“isn’t it pretty?” you asked, turning to seokjin. his gaze was fixed on you, not the fireworks. “beautiful,” he replied, his voice low and sincere.

the car ride back was filled with a charged silence. as you stared out the window, a memory of the survey and its bossy tone flashed in your mind. you turned to Seokjin, your eyes wide with realization. he looked at you with a smug smile, clearly enjoying the surprise. before you could ask more, the car pulled up to your home. he exited and opened your door, handing you a large, stuffed teddy bear from the trunk. you were overwhelmed with gratitude and, in a moment of pure joy, you hugged your boss tightly.

to your astonishment, he hugged you back, his embrace warm and reassuring. as you pulled away, both of you were so close. too close for comfort. you knew better, stopping yourself as you glanced at the time. “it’s getting late,” you said softly. he nodded, his eyes reflecting a mix of emotions. “good night. i'll see you in the morning.”

the morning sun streamed through your bedroom window, casting a gentle glow over the room as you prepared for another day at work. you had almost forgotten about the stuffed teddy bear seokjin had gifted you the night before. as you reached for it, something shifted inside its pocket. curiosity piqued, you reached in and pulled out a small, elegant box.

opening it carefully, you found a delicate silver necklace inside. the intricate design and glint of the metal took your breath away. you were momentarily stunned, not expecting such a thoughtful gift. after a moment of hesitation, you decided to keep the necklace. you slipped it into your pocket, planning to wear it later.

at the office, you settled at your desk, the necklace still weighing on your mind. as you worked, you fished it out of your pocket and admired it, the silver catching the light. unbeknownst to you, he was watching from his office across the hall. his gaze softened as he observed you, a small, admiring smile on his lips. the sight of you, glowing with a mix of wonder and appreciation, made him think how gorgeous you were.

you finished adjusting the necklace around your neck, and as you headed to the bathroom, your phone rang. it was minji, her voice excited and insistent. “hey, i was just wondering if you’re still up for that blind date with my friend today? i know it’s short notice, but he’s really looking forward to it!”

it took a moment for the reminder to hit you. the blind date slipped your mind amidst the whirlwind of yesterday’s events. you agreed, albeit with some reluctance. “sure, i’ll meet him. just let me know the details.” as you entered the bathroom, keulgi emerged from a stall behind you, startling you. she had apparently overheard your conversation.

“are you going on a date?” she asked, her voice filled with surprise and curiosity. caught off guard, you nodded, glancing around to make sure no one else was within earshot. “yes, but please keep it quiet.” keulgi, ever enthusiastic, promised to keep it to herself. however, her enthusiasm got the better of her. as soon as you left the bathroom, she couldn't resist sharing the news with the rest of the office.

when you returned to your desk, the atmosphere in the office had noticeably shifted. colleagues whispered excitedly and shot you curious glances. the office buzzed with the news of your impending date. seokjin, who had been outside his office listening to the commotion, seethed with jealousy. his earlier soft smile had vanished, replaced by a scowl that betrayed his irritation. he paced back and forth, trying to control his frustration.

the excitement and chatter from your colleagues did nothing to ease his anger. his mind raced with thoughts of the date and the implications of your newfound interest. he couldn’t shake the feeling of possessiveness that gnawed at him, and the thought of someone else taking you out only fueled his frustration. the more he listened to the enthusiastic reactions of his staff, the more he felt his grip on his emotions slipping. he knew he needed to act, but he was caught between his pride and the undeniable feelings he had been trying to cast away.

the date began at a quaint, upscale café, where you met your blind date, taehyun. he greeted you with a polite smile and an amiable demeanor. as you made small talk, discussing interests and hobbies, taehyun seemed genuinely pleasant, though his compliments caught you off guard. “you look absolutely gorgeous tonight,” he said with a warm smile.

you blushed slightly, feeling a mix of embarrassment and surprise. “thank you,” you replied, attempting to refocus the conversation. as you chatted, you noticed that his tie was hanging loose and uneven. it irked you more than you expected, and you reached over to fix it, hoping to tidy up his appearance. he watched with a smile as you deftly adjusted the tie, clearly appreciative of the attention to detail.

just as you were about to continue the conversation, a loud, urgent yell interrupted the moment. “secretary (l/n)!”

you and taehyun both turned to see seokjin striding toward your table, his expression stormy and his eyes locked onto you with barely concealed anger. your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him. “vice chairman?” you asked, confusion mingling with concern. “what’s going on?”

he stopped in front of your table, his demeanor tense. “i need to see you urgently,” he said, his voice firm and unwavering. you glanced at taehyun, apologetic. “i’m so sorry, it seems to be an emergency.”

you followed him outside, where he led you to his waiting car. the drive began in silence, the air thick with unspoken tension. the car came to a sudden stop in the middle of the road, and you turned to seokjin, your anxiety growing. “what’s the matter?” you asked, trying to keep your voice calm despite the unease you felt.

his gaze was cold, his usual confident demeanor replaced by a stern, almost menacing composure. “never do that again,” he said, his voice carrying a tone of finality.

you frowned, confusion clouding your expression. “what do you mean? what did i do?” his eyes locked onto yours with intensity. “never let me see you with another man like that again.”

you didn’t respond immediately, and his jaw clenched as he seemed to wrestle with his emotions. finally, he added, “i don’t want to see you with anyone else. it’s not something i'm willing to accept.” the confession left you stunned. you stared at him, a mixture of surprise and realization dawning on you. the implications of his words were clear, and the protectiveness in his tone was undeniable. the car ride continued in silence, with the weight of his words lingering between you.

back at home, you went through your evening routine, attending to various tasks around the house. the day's events had left you both physically and emotionally drained. you found solace in a small ritual that had been a comforting presence throughout your life—your diary. sitting down at your desk, you pulled out the well-worn book, its pages filled with a mixture of memories, dreams, and sketches. as you flipped through the pages, you came across a series of drawings. they depicted a younger you and a boy, playing and laughing together. the accompanying writing read, “i miss you, brother.” the words tugged at your heart, and you felt a pang of sadness.

the drawings were a testament to a bond that had once been a central part of your life. as you closed the diary and set it aside, you felt the ache of missing something—or someone—important. the day’s events had stirred up memories you weren’t quite ready to confront.

later that night, as you drifted off to sleep, the familiar haze of dreams enveloped you. in your dream, you found yourself in a dimly lit basement, a place filled with shadows and echoes of the past. the little boy from your diary appeared, standing before you with a stern expression. you felt tears streaming down your cheeks, overwhelmed by a mixture of regret and longing. the boy began to scold you, his voice echoing with an authority that seemed to pierce through your sorrow. despite the scolding, you felt a deep sense of gratitude.

“thank you, kim soo—seo—” you started, trying to recall his name. but before you could finish, the boy cut you off with a tsk. “no, stupid. my name is kim seo—” the name was just on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t quite grasp it. the dream began to fade, and you woke up with a start, heart racing and breath uneven.

sitting up in bed, you felt the weight of the dream pressing on you. the name “kim seo” lingered in your mind, but it was elusive, slipping away before you could fully remember. the dream had left you with a deep sense of loss and confusion, and you were left grappling with the fragments of a memory that seemed to evade your grasp. as you lay back down, you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something significant you were missing, a connection that was just out of reach. the memory of the dream and the name echoed in your thoughts, haunting you as you tried to find solace in sleep once more.

seokjin arrived at work the following day with a heavy air of exhaustion surrounding him. he trudged through the office, his usual confident stride replaced by a sluggish, disoriented gait. as the morning wore on, it became increasingly clear that he was struggling to stay awake. his head bobbed with fatigue as he sat at his desk, his eyes slipping shut despite his efforts to remain alert.

concerned, you approached his desk, gently shaking his shoulder. “vice chairman, are you alright?” when there was no response, you shook him harder, your worry mounting. his body felt unnervingly heavy, and it became clear that he was deeply asleep, his breathing uneven. panic surged through you as you realized the severity of the situation. without hesitation, you grabbed your phone and dialed for emergency services.

the paramedics arrived swiftly, their professional demeanor a small comfort amidst the chaos. you watched anxiously as they wheeled him into the ambulance. your heart pounded in your chest, and despite knowing it was likely nothing serious, you refused to leave his side.

in the hospital, as the medics prepared him for further examination, they reassured you that his condition wasn’t critical. “he’s just exhausted,” one of the paramedics said. “it’s likely just severe fatigue. you can go in once we’re done.” when you were finally allowed in, he was still asleep, his face pale and drawn. you took a seat next to him, trying to steady your breathing as you buried your face in your hands. the sight of him, knocked out cold, was deeply unsettling. It reminded you of something from your past—something too familiar.

as you stared at him, your thoughts drifted back to the boy from the basement. the way he was unconscious on the floor when the lady had taken you—the same position, the same labored breathing, the same pale complexion. the memories came rushing back, painful and vivid. the name “kim seo” echoed in your mind, but it didn’t quite fit. then you remembered the boy’s full name, “kim seohyeon.” the realization came with a jolt. “kim seohyeon,” you whispered to yourself, the name feeling strangely natural as it rolled off your tongue.

your relief was fleeting, however, as a chilling thought struck you. seokjin’s mother had asked you not even a couple days ago, “what do you think about my hyeon?” it wasn’t just a fragment of a bad memory—it was a piece of a puzzle falling into place. hesitantly, you turned your gaze back to him, who remained motionless. your heart raced as you said, “kim seohyeon.” your voice was shaky, trembling with the weight of the revelation.

for a moment, the room was silent, and you felt a brief sense of relief as though your words had broken the tension. but then, he stirred, his eyes fluttering open. his gaze was bleary, and he blinked at you in confusion. “what is it?” your heart sank as you saw his groggy, disoriented expression. the name you had just spoken had clearly registered with him, but his response was laced with irritation and confusion. you were left grappling with the enormity of the realization that seokjin—kim seohyeon—was more deeply connected to your past than you had ever imagined.

you took a deep breath, trying to steady the storm of emotions surging within you. “kim seohyeon,” you repeated, your voice trembling as you looked at seokjin. his eyes, which had been closed in exhaustion, flew open at the sound of his name. the shock and recognition dawned on his face as he fully grasped the situation. “it was you,” you said, your voice laden with disbelief.

your heart pounded as you pieced together the fragmented memories that had haunted you for so long. “i remember now,” you began, your voice quivering. “there was a boy—you were in the basement with me.” his expression shifted from confusion to horror as the realization sank in. “the dreams i’ve been having,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “a black-haired woman, a basement—i’ve been dreaming about it for weeks.”

the pieces began to fall into place for you. “the boy i kept searching for, the one i couldn’t remember clearly—it was you. we were together in that basement. i’ve been trying to find you all this time, but i didn’t know it was you.” the enormity of the realization hit you like a tidal wave, and you began to sob uncontrollably. you had spent your entire life searching for the boy from the basement, the boy whose memory had haunted you for years. to discover that he was right under your nose all along, that seokjin was the one you had been seeking—it was overwhelming.

the flood of emotions surged through you, and the connections you had been struggling to piece together suddenly fell into place. the cables, the fear, the strange sense of familiarity—all of it made sense now. the sobs wracked your body, and you felt a deep, raw anguish as you realized how close you had come to losing him without ever knowing.

his gaze softened as he watched your breakdown. his usual composure and egotism crumbled in the face of your distress. weakly, he reached out to you, his hand trembling slightly. “it’s okay,” he said softly, his voice filled with a tender concern that was rare for him. “i’m here.” you hesitated for a moment, but then, seeking solace, you moved into his embrace. his arms wrapped around you, providing a comfort that felt both foreign and deeply familiar. you continued to cry, each sob a release of the pent-up fear and sorrow that had built up over the years. he held you close, his own breath shaky as he struggled to process the gravity of the situation. he stroked your hair gently, his touch soothing and steadying. the warmth of his embrace provided a sense of security that you hadn’t felt in a long time.

as your sobs began to subside, he pulled back slightly, tilting your chin so that you looked up at him. his eyes were filled with a mix of empathy and resolve. “you found me,” he said softly, his voice trembling with the weight of the moment. his words, though simple, carried a profound meaning. the realization that you had finally found him, the person you had been searching for, was both a relief and a heartbreak. in that moment, the intensity of your emotions reached a peak, and he leaned in, closing the gap between you.

his lips met yours in a kiss that was gentle at first, but quickly grew more passionate. it was a kiss that spoke of the pain, the longing, and the deep connection that had been forged through shared battles. you responded, kissing him back with equal fervor, allowing the years of separation and anguish to dissolve in the intensity of the moment. when the kiss finally broke, you both pulled back slightly, breathless and awestruck. the weight of the past had been acknowledged, and the connection between you was solidified in a way that was both profound and healing.

he looked into your eyes, his expression a mix of vulnerability and resolve. “we'll be okay,” he said softly, his voice filled with a newfound determination. you nodded, feeling a deep sense of relief and hope.

the weeks following the revelation passed in a strange, uncomfortable silence. despite the deep bond you and seokjin now shared, an unspoken tension lingered in the office. the connection between you had shifted, but neither of you quite knew how to bridge the gap between your past traumas and your present reality.

he had revealed to you the reason behind his name change to seokjin. his parents had insisted on the new identity as a protective measure, believing that if seohyeon no longer existed, the woman who had once terrorized him would never be able to find him. this revelation, while reassuring, had also created a chasm between you two that was hard to navigate.

one afternoon, as the silence in the office grew increasingly heavy, he called you into his office. his demeanor was serious as he gestured for you to take a seat. you entered, your heart racing slightly, unsure of what to expect. “thank you for coming,” he began, his voice steady but laced with an undertone of something you couldn’t quite place. “i need you to do something for me.” you straightened in your chair, adopting a professional tone. “what is it?”

seokjin looked at you with an intensity that made your breath catch. “i need you to be my girlfriend.” the words hung in the air between you, and you were momentarily stunned into silence. “what?” you managed to ask, your voice betraying your shock.

his gaze softened as he continued, his expression vulnerable. “i’ve been thinking a lot about us. after everything we’ve been through, i realized how much i care about you. i need you in my life, not just as my secretary, but as my girlfriend.”

his confession touched you deeply, and you felt a swell of emotion rise within you. “vice chairman” you began, struggling to find the right words. “i didn’t expect this.”

he nodded, his gaze never leaving yours. “i know. it’s sudden, and i understand if you need time. but i wanted to be honest with you about how i feel.” the sincerity in his voice, combined with the gravity of his words, made your heart ache with a mix of relief and hope. you were touched by his honesty and the way he had finally allowed himself to be vulnerable with you.

he then leaned forward slightly, his expression shifting to something more earnest. “there’s one more thing,” he said, his voice lowering. “i need you to kiss me.”

your eyes widened at his request. the gravity of the moment, coupled with your feelings for him, made your pulse race. you nodded slowly, feeling a surge of emotions—affection, longing, and a deep connection. you stood up and walked over to him, your heart pounding in your chest. his gaze followed you, his expression a mixture of anticipation and tenderness. as you reached him, you leaned in, closing the distance between you.

the kiss was tender, filled with the emotions you both had been holding back. It was a sweet, unspoken promise of a new beginning. he responded gently, his hands resting on your back as he deepened the kiss. when you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your faces flushed with the intensity of the moment. he looked at you with a soft smile, his eyes reflecting the vulnerability and affection that had been building between you.

his voice was soft and teasing as he traced his fingers gently along your back. “this means you’ll be my girlfriend, doesn’t it?” the playful tone in his voice, combined with the tender touch, made you smile despite the whirlwind of emotions you were feeling. you nodded, feeling a mix of excitement and affection. “yes, it does.”

his eyes lit up with a genuine smile, his teasing demeanor giving way to something more heartfelt. “i’m glad to hear that. i’ve been wanting to ask you for a long time, but i didn’t know how.” you laughed softly, shaking your head. “you didn’t need to wait so long. i think we both knew how we felt about each other.”

his smile widened as he pulled you into a gentle hug, his arms encircling you with a sense of relief and contentment. “i guess it’s true,” he said, his voice warm and sincere. “sometimes, the things you’re looking for are right in front of you.” they really were, as it seemed.

the next few days at work were marked by an underlying tension that neither of you could quite shake off. seokjin was noticeably less cold and demanding, a stark contrast to his previous demeanor. the change was subtle but significant. he found himself taking more interest in your presence, often waving at you from across the office with a grin that was almost boyish. each time you waved back, his smile would widen, and a look of genuine joy would light up his face.

the change didn’t go unnoticed by your colleagues, who observed the shift in seokjin’s behavior with a mix of curiosity and suspicion. however, no one dared to comment, respecting the unspoken agreement that something had clearly shifted in the office dynamics.

as the days passed, his new feelings for you started to manifest in ways he hadn’t anticipated. while he relished the sweetness of your new relationship, he found himself increasingly aware of the more physical aspects of your presence. he couldn’t ignore how his pulse quickened when he noticed the way your tight skirts accentuated your figure, or how the sight of your bare legs and hair pulled back made him sweat in the middle of meetings.

he tried to maintain his composure, but the intensity of his feelings became difficult to manage. his attempts to focus on work were often disrupted by thoughts of you, and he struggled to keep his desires in check.

one afternoon, unable to ignore his escalating emotions any longer, he called you into his office. his voice, usually commanding, now carried a hint of nervousness. “can you come in here for a moment?” you nodded, entering his office with a sense of anticipation. seokjin closed the door behind you and gestured for you to lock it. his eyes were intense as he watched you comply. he then moved to pull down the blinds, casting the room into a more private, dimly lit atmosphere.

“what’s going on?” you asked, your voice tinged with concern as you approached him. he looked at you with a mixture of longing and hesitation, his gaze fixed on yours. “i need you to understand something,” he said softly. “it’s not just about what we’ve been through, or about being together. i—”

he paused, taking a deep breath as he reached out to pull you closer. the seriousness in his eyes gave way to a softer, more vulnerable expression. “i need you to know how much i care about you. and right now, i can’t help but feel…”

before he could finish, he leaned in and kissed you. the kiss was different from before—less tender, more urgent and needy. it was filled with the intensity of emotions that had been building up inside him. you responded to the kiss, your own feelings mirroring his. the kiss deepened, and the world outside the office seemed to fade away as you both lost yourselves in the moment.

it was a kiss that spoke of months of unspoken yearning, a kiss that shattered the professional façade you had both so carefully maintained. his hand found the small of your back, pulling you closer. his other hand cupped your cheek, his thumb tracing the outline of your mouth as you kissed him deeper. his tongue slipped past your lips, tasting, exploring. you gasped, your body responding instinctively to his touch.

that was it. the moment you had both been waiting for, the moment that would change everything. you could feel the tension in the room, a tight coil winding tighter with every passing second. the sound of a zipper echoed through the room as seokjin stood, lifting you onto his desk. your legs wrapped around his waist, and you could feel his erection pressing against you, hot and insistent. your breath hitched as he kissed along your neck, his teeth grazing your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

he stepped back for a moment, looking into your eyes, searching for permission. you nodded, unable to form words, and he took that as his cue. his hands found the buttons of your blouse, deftly undoing them one by one. your bra was next, revealing your tits to his hungry gaze. He took one in his hand, squeezing gently, and your moan filled the room.

he leaned in, taking your nipple into his mouth. you arched your back, the sensation shooting straight to your core. he sucked, his tongue flicking over the sensitive peak, and your hips rolled against him. he groaned, his grip on your hip tightening. the anticipation was palpable as he reached for his belt, his eyes never leaving yours. you could see the need in them, the same need that was building within you. as he stepped closer, you felt his hardness pressing against your thigh, and you knew there was no turning back.

he whispered something in your ear, something filthy and thrilling, and you could feel your cheeks flush with arousal. his hands found the zipper of your skirt, sliding it down with a sound that seemed unnaturally loud in the quiet office. your skin prickled with excitement as the fabric fell away, revealing your lacy underwear. his hand slid under the fabric, his fingers finding your wetness. he groaned again, his breath hot against your neck. “you're so wet for me,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

you nodded, your eyes closing as he began to stroke you, his touch tentative at first, then growing bolder as your moans grew louder. your body was on fire, every nerve ending alive with sensation. you knew you were his, and he was yours, in this every stolen moment of passion.

with a final tug, his hand found your bare skin, and you gasped as he touched you, his fingers exploring your folds with an urgency that mirrored your own. you could feel your core tightening around his touch, desperate for more. he pulled back slightly, a smirk playing on his lips as he watched your reaction. “you like that, don't you?” he asked, his voice a low growl. you nodded, your eyes glazed over with desire. he leaned in, capturing your mouth again in a bruising kiss as his thumb began to circle your clit. the sensation was overwhelming, and you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. you didn't know if you could hold on much longer.

suddenly, he stopped, his hand moving away from your panties. you whimpered in protest, but he just chuckled, a dark sound that sent shivers down your spine. “patience,” he murmured, “we're just getting started.”

with surprising strength, he flipped you over, so that you were now lying face down on his desk, your ass in the air. he stepped back, and you could feel his eyes on you, taking in the sight of your exposed body. you felt a thrill of exhibitionism, knowing that he was seeing you in such a vulnerable state.

he leaned over you, his breath hot on your ear. "you're so fucking beautiful," he whispered, his voice filled with lust. his hand came down in a firm smack on your ass, and you yelped in surprise. the sting was quickly replaced by a warmth that spread through your body, making you wetter than ever.

he smacked you again, harder this time, and you moaned. the sound seemed to spur him on, and his hand began to move in a steady rhythm, alternating between gentle caresses and firm slaps. you felt yourself getting wetter with every hit, your body begging for more. “do you like that, baby?” he asked, his voice strained with his own need. “yes,” you managed to gasp out, your voice shaky. “more.”

he complied, his hand coming down harder and faster, each smack echoing through the room. you could feel yourself getting closer, your body trembling with the effort of holding back. and then, with one final, brutal slap, you shattered, your orgasm ripping through you like a storm. he leaned down, his breathing ragged, and kissed the back of your neck. “you're mine,” he murmured, his voice possessive. “mine to claim.”

and with that, he reached for his own pants, his hands shaking with desire. he freed himself, and you could feel the tip of his cock brushing against your wetness. without another word, he pushed inside you, filling you up in one swift, agonizingly sweet motion. you yelled, the pleasure overwhelming as he claimed your virginity, your body stretching to accommodate his size.

he didn't stop there, though. he began to move, his hips pistoning into you with a relentless rhythm that had you seeing stars. you could feel every inch of him, and it was more than you had ever imagined. each thrust was a declaration of ownership, each moan a promise of more to come. you pushed back against him, meeting him halfway, your body moving in perfect sync with his. you were lost in the sensation, the pain and pleasure melding into something indescribable. your hands gripped the edge of the desk, knuckles white, as you held on for dear life.

“fuck, you're tight,” he grunted, his voice strained. “so tight.” your response was a whimper, your throat too tight to form words. all you could do was moan and arch your back, taking him deeper, letting him fill you completely. the room spun around you as he picked up the pace, his hands digging into your hips as he drove into you. you could feel his climax building, his breaths coming in harsh pants against your neck. and then, with a final, guttural groan, he came, his warmth flooding into you.

you collapsed onto the desk, your body spent, as he pulled out and leaned over you, his chest heaving. he kissed your shoulder, his breathing slowly returning to normal. the room was silent, save for the sound of your ragged breaths.

for a moment, you both just stayed there, basking in the afterglow of what had just happened. but reality began to seep back in, and you felt a sudden rush of self-consciousness. you were his secretary, and you had just had unprotected sex on his desk. the implications of your actions were just beginning to hit you.

seokjin must have noticed the change in your demeanor because he leaned in, whispering in your ear, “don't worry, i've got you.” his words were soothing, but they didn't entirely ease the anxiety coiling in your stomach. he helped you sit up, and you both began to straighten your clothes, trying to erase the evidence of your passionate encounter. your heart was racing, and you couldn't help but steal glances at him, seeing him in a new light. “we can't do this again,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “what if someone finds out?”

he turned to face you, cupping your cheek. “they won't,” he assured you. “this is our secret.” his eyes searched yours, and you could see the determination in them. “but if they do,” he trailed off, a smug smile playing on his lips. “well, then they'll just have to deal with it. you're my girlfriend, after all.”

you couldn't help but smile back, his confidence infectious. but deep down, you knew that this was just the beginning. the line between professional and personal had been irrevocably crossed, and there was no going back.

✧.*

a/n: literally no one asked for this idc this is so funny to me i based the name off one drama and the plot off another goodbye

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sowoozoo-7 · 6 months ago

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I Think I Want to Marry You (KSJ)

Pairing: actor!Seokjin x stylist!reader

Genre: strangers to friends to lovers, fluff, a lil bit of angst

Rating: T

Word Count: 4.3k

Summary: You've never put a label on your relationship with Seokjin, and you prefer it that way. But one day, he proposes out of the blue.

Warnings: language, mentions of sex but nothing explicit

A/N: In honor of Jin's return from the military, here's a fic I've been sitting on for the past few months. Welcome home, Worldwide Handsome 🫶🫡 Unedited and unbeta’d, and as always, would love to hear from you!.

The day you meet Seokjin, he walks you down the aisle.

He arrives to the venue minutes before the wedding is supposed to start. When he steps out of the chauffeured black car, it’s like you’re seeing him in slow motion arriving at a red carpet, his hair swept back, suit tailored to perfection. Apologies drip from his lips like honey, for missing the rehearsal the day before, for almost being late today.

Every inch the Hollywood darling, you want to hate him, but he introduces himself as if he’s not plastered on every billboard in town, gets misty-eyed at the vows, and actually remembers your name. When he busts into a goofy dance during the wedding party entrance at the reception, you can’t help but smile and wiggle along.

“So anyway, every time I get to see the stars like this, I can’t help but think abut that one scene in the Lion King where Timon says they’re just fireflies stuck in the sky.”

You’re lying flat on a trampoline, the voluminous skirts of your pastel-puke bridesmaid dress spread out around you. Weddings are exhausting, doubly so for the perpetually single, and triply so for industry weddings. The pressure to be gracious, to (barf) network, to make sure everyone looks good for the inevitable social media posts, all of it has your social battery dangerously low. You’ve done your rounds on the dance floor and you’ve hand one drink past your best friend’s two-drink limit. So you’ve escaped the reception and found the trampoline tucked in a back corner of the mansion’s extensive gardens, presumably for events with kids. Makes for a good hiding spot. It’s quiet and dark, the only evidence of a party the bass and cheers from the dance floor.

“What if they are?”

You push down your skirts to look at Seokjin. His hands prop up his stupidly handsome head, eyes on the clear sky above you.

“Idiot. We’ve been to space. They’re big burning balls of gas.”

“What if they’re just really, really, really big fireflies really, really far away and we just don’t know it.”

You think for a second, seriously considering it as a possibility. Then you shrug. “It doesn’t really matter, does it? They’re still stars to us. Untouchable.”

“Give me your hand.”

His expression is dead serious when you look over at him, and you place your hand in his. He takes it and places it over his heart. You feel his heartbeat under the layers of clothing, the rhythm steady. Your own heart picks up the pace as he looks at you, eyes serious, searching.

“Not all stars are untouchable.”

You scoff and snatch your hand away. “That’s the worst line I’ve ever heard.”

He laughs with you, the trampoline shaking with the force of your laughter.

An announcement interrupts the music, too muffled to make out, but a quick check on your phone shows you it’s time for the bouquet toss. The whole event is less a wedding and more of a highly choreographed dance.

“That’s my cue to go.”

You sit up and crawl off the trampoline gracelessly.

“Wait.” He scrambles to the edge of the trampoline. “Your hair is all over the place.”

A static shock travels from his fingertips to your neck as he reaches for your hair. You jump and let out an involuntary gasp.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, as he smooths down your hair with careful fingers. Your traitor heart skips a beat.

Once he’s done, you tug his suit into place, just so no one gets the idea that either of you have been horizontal.

“Maybe you want to wait a couple minutes before coming back?”

“What do you mean?”

“What will they say, if they see Mr. Worldwide Handsome coming back to the party with a nobody like me?”

“You’re not a nobody.” He sighs and leans back anyway. “But you’re right. Sometimes I forget about all of that.”

You look back just once on your way back to the dance floor. Seokjin sprawls out on the trampoline, looking up at the stars again.

Another wedding, the second in as many months. It’s that season of your life where everyone around you is getting married, having babies, and hitting all the milestones, and all you have to offer is your job as a stylist. Your old classmates think it’s glamorous, to work with celebrities all day, but seeing the sparkle of endless engagement rings makes you feel like you’re far behind. On top of all that, your mother called you to catch up that morning. Her words echo in your head, reminding you that you’re still single and not getting any younger.

And to add insult to injury, you’ve been parked at the singles’ table. At least there’s a familiar face. Seokjin, seemingly friends with everyone you’ve ever known, is there too. You’re glad he’s around. Saves you the energy of painful small talk with a stranger.

Once dinner ends, you escape into the grounds of the country mansion-turned-hotel.

There’s no one at the pool, and you slip your heels off to put your feet in the water. You consider canceling your RSVP to the next four weddings you have this year as you watch the light reflect through the pool. It’s not doing great things for your mood, to have love shoved in your face like this. Like the whole world is happy except for you. You’re happy for your friend, of course, she deserves this just as much as the next person, but you can’t help but be jealous of the stupidest thing: she’ll actually get laid tonight.

You’re in the driest spell of your life, what with project after project at work, long hours on set, and a demanding boss who thinks you can do nothing right. You don’t even have time to shower and eat, let alone swipe on Tinder for a hook-up.

“Good god, I need to get laid.” The words escape your mouth along with a world-weary sigh.

“Does shouting it at the heavens work?”

Your hand flies to your chest, and you let out a squeak of surprise that turns to laughter. It’s Seokjin, who’s found you again. He takes off his shoes and socks before joining you at the edge of the pool.

He cups his hands around his mouth to amplify his voice. “Good God, if you’re out there listening, I need to get laid, too! Thanks!”

His antics bring a much-needed smile to your face. It’s hard to be in a bad mood when he’s around.

“Wait, you’re telling me Mr. Worldwide Handsome doesn’t fuck? Car Door Guy isn’t drowning in pussy?”

“What a crass way to put it.” He heaves out a world weary sigh of his own. “But yeah.”

“Shit, if I was as famous as you, that’d be my preferred cause of death.”

“Fame is the problem.” He pauses. “I didn’t know you were into women.”

“Labels don’t fucking matter. I’m into whoever is hot and thinks I’m hot too.” You drag your feet through the water, watching as the ripples extend to the other side of the pool and back again to you. “Are you saying you’re too famous to fuck? Like you’re too good for us peasants?”

He laughs, a sad, bitter laugh. “Sometimes I can’t tell. When someone is interested for me, or for their own fifteen minutes in the spotlight. Sex is great and all, but there’s only so many times one can wake up to someone that just wants picture evidence that you’ve fucked.”

He says this with the weight of a dozen stories, untold.

You place your hand on his, curling over the lip of the pool.

“For what it’s worth, I’d go after you for that sweet, sweet ass rather than any type of public attention.”

He scoffs, but flips his hand over and tangles his fingers with yours.

“So you think I’m hot?” He looks at you, his joking tone belying the intense heat of his gaze.

“It goes both ways, bud. You gotta think I’m hot too if this is going to work.” You try to match his light tone, but heat rises to your cheeks.

“Beyond hot. Beautiful.” His thumb strokes circles across the back of your hand.

“What about the reception?”

Without hesitation, he jumps into the pool. Your breath catches in your throat as he rises from the water, wet shirt clinging to his defined chest. He pushes his wet hair away from his forehead.

“Aw, damn it. I’m all wet now. How could I possibly go back to the reception?”

A smile spreads on his face and you can't help but smile back. He holds out his hand in an invitation.

You take his outstretched hand and he pulls you in.

Honey, I know you don’t want to talk about it but—

“Then why are you bringing it up, Mom?”

I don’t want to see you alone, and besides, what am I supposed to do with my retirement if I don’t have grand babies to take care of?

“How you spend your retirement is your problem.”

I raised you, all my myself, and I worked so hard, you can’t do this one thing for me?

“Mom, you’re being unreasonable.”

I just want to see you happy, sweetheart.

“And you think marriage and babies is the way to happiness? It wasn’t for you.”

You regret the words as soon as they’re out of your mouth. There’s silence at the end of the line and, for a moment, you think she’s hung up.

You were the greatest joy in my life, honey. I wouldn’t have traded that for the world.

The quiet conviction in her voice brings a lump to your throat.

“I can’t talk about this anymore, Mom. I have to go. I’ll see you next week.”

You set the phone down beside you and pull your knees up to your chest. The city sparkles in the night, holiday decorations adding glitter to the view from your fire escape. The fire escape is the best thing about your apartment, and you spend as much time on it as the weather permits.

Just as your joints start getting stiff in the chill, your phone buzzes. You almost don’t check it, expecting more guilt tripping from your mother, but it’s Seokjin.

WWH [19:34]: want to grab a drink?

It’s been over a year since you first hooked up, and it’s been going like this:

Every time Seokjin travels to your city for work, he’ll text you, for dinner, for drinks, really any excuse. The first time it happened, you met him at his hotel bar, and ended up in his room that night. The following night, he insisted on meeting you somewhere near yours and wound up staying the night at your place. Since then, you meet him somewhere close to home on his first or second night in town, and he stays at yours for the rest of his trip.

You [19:37]: I didn’t know you were in town

You don’t mind. Even though your apartment is barely big enough for one, it’s nice to have company for a few days. He cooks, claiming he’s never home enough to keep fresh groceries at his place and that he misses his own cooking. You believe him, with his filming and promotion schedule for three different films. When his trip coincides with the farmer’s market a few blocks over, you go shopping together, takeout coffees in hand. He makes friends with each of the vendors and leaves you with at least a week’s worth of leftovers every time.

WWH [19:38}: last minute press thing

When you’re in public, he keeps his distance, but when you’re in private, he holds you close. In the bedroom, in the kitchen, in the shower, on the sofa. Claims he doesn’t get enough genuine human touch in his line of work. You scoff, but let him cling. You don’t get enough human touch either.

He admits once during those quiet moments after sex, with only the streetlights illuminating your room, that your place actually feels like a home.

You [19:40]: take me somewhere nice this time

He’s your boyfriend in everything but name. Two spare sets of clothes in his own drawer, a toothbrush that lives permanently next to yours. You even got each other a gift at Christmas, and he sent you chocolate and a gorgeous dahlia bouquet on Valentine’s Day. You’re not official though. So it always starts with a text.

WWH [19:40]: car will be there in 20. dress nice.

The streets are icy, slippery wet where your heels meet the concrete. The bar Seokjin took you to was indeed very nice, with fancy cocktails and even fancier small plates that didn’t amount to much of a dinner. You’re unsteady on your feet and it’s going to take something greasy and carb-y to sop up all the alcohol in your system.

You’re looking for a taxi, or maybe something to eat; you’re not entirely sure. What you do know is that you’re moving forward, which is keeping you warm in the icy wind blowing down the city streets.

As you step confidently forward, your heel skids out from under you and the only thing between your ass and the grimy sidewalk is Seokjin’s hand around your waist.

“Wow. If this was a k-drama, they’d film this from like, fifty different angles.”

He laughs and steadies you as you get your feet under you. “Maybe we’ll see the Subway ads floating around here somewhere.”

“Ooh, Subway sounds so good right now.”

His beauty doesn’t catch you off guard as much anymore, but now, with the wind ruffling his hair and the cold bringing a slight pink to his cheeks, you’re mesmerized. Your hand comes to caress his face, cold against the warmth of his skin.

His hand covers yours as he looks into your eyes, something indescribable in his gaze doing funny things to your stomach.

“Marry me.”

“What?” You’re not sure you heard him correctly.

“Will you marry me?”

You laugh in his face. As far as you’re concerned, this is the best joke he’s ever made. You laugh so hard, you break away from his arms.

“Sure, why not? My mom already loves you. Maybe with a ring on my finger she’ll get off my back abut marriage and babies.”

He accidentally met your mom a few months before when she showed up at your apartment building to surprise you for your birthday. Seokjin was graceful enough to treat her to a fancy day out on town. Of course, she melted for him and has asked after him every phone call since.

“Great! We’re engaged, then.”

“Ooooh, I’m a fianceeeeeeee.”

You wobble a bit as you do a little spin and he puts your hand in the crook of his arm to help your footing. You look at your left hand then, and notice something missing.

“But wait. How will other people know I’m a fiancée if I don’t have a ring on my finger?" You waggle your hand in his face. "How will I know not to fuck other people without a ring?”

You don’t tell him you haven’t slept with anyone else for months now.

“I’ll get you a ring.”

“Okay yay!” You tuck your arm back in his but break away immediately as you catch a glimpse of the gleaming golden arches in the distance. “I! Want! Nuggets!”

He calls you on a frosty Saturday afternoon to tell you he’s coming over for something important, that he wants to stay but can’t. He’s been shooting on location, and you haven’t seen him for a couple of weeks.

The trees have lost their leaves and the sun makes a weak attempt at heating up the city. You’re waiting at the top of the steps to your apartment building, debating whether or not to run in real quick to grab a more substantial coat. A large, black SUV pulls up, making the decision for you.

Seokjin jumps out of the car, wearing a long camel-colored coat to ward off the bite in the air. He takes the steps up to the top of the stoop two at a time and reaches you quickly, his breath puffing up in the cold as he drops a kiss on your cheek. This is new, but not unwelcome.

“Hi.”

“I can’t stay long, I have to get back to the airport soon, but I needed to deliver something.”

“You could have sent somebody over.”

He shakes his head.

“I had to deliver this in person.”A ring box comes out of his pocket. He opens it to show you.“We’re engaged, right? You need a ring.”

The ring nestled inside the box has a tanzanite stone framed with little diamonds. You’ve never been one to imagine your engagement ring, but this one is perfect. Delicate and beautiful.

“Did you fly all the way here just for this? You could have waited a bit, I mean…”

“I had a day off. Besides I wanted to see you.” He slides the ring on your left fourth finger and admires your hand. “There. I couldn’t until I wrapped. What if you had fucked someone else in the meantime?”

You wince a little at his words. You say such stupid things when you’re drunk. “You know I haven’t, and I wouldn’t.”

He pulls you into a hug. You slide your hands around his waist inside his coat.

“I know.”

You want to stay wrapped in his embrace forever, his warmth shielding you from the cold, his warm, musky scent enveloping you. Too soon, he pulls back. Before he goes, he cups your face in his and pulls you into a kiss, sweet and tender.

The paparazzi photos you see later make your heart ache. The two of you look so in love from the outside, like a real-life engaged couple should.

Early the next morning, your phone rings. It’s your mom, wondering why she had to find out on the news that you were engaged?! Saying that he’s such a good man. And that she’s so happy for you. You don’t want to tell her you don’t think it’s real.

You don’t tell anyone you’re afraid it’s just a joke. Not even Seokjin himself the next time you see him.

He deviates from the routine, but only in that he comes straight to your apartment from the airport, no more pretense of asking you out for a drink before he stays a week.

So you stay in this limbo, happy to pretend you’re engaged. It’s easy to pretend to be a happy couple when he’s around. Now when you go to the farmers’ market together, you can hold hands with him, paparazzi and passerby phones be damned. You don’t know if it’s real or not, but you enjoy it, and let yourself sink into the fantasy.

When he’s not around, it’s harder to convince yourself, but you catch yourself smiling openly at your phone every time he texts you. And he texts you about all sorts of things, about his annoying coworkers, about a potential project he’s excited about, about what he wants to cook for you next time you see him. You tell him you miss having his cooking skills around. (It’s as far as you’ll go to say you miss him).

The months pass like this.

At the end of spring, your mom starts to not-so-subtly hint that she can’t wait to meet Seokjin’s parents at your engagement party. You say you don’t have anything planned, that you don’t even have a wedding date in mind because you both have been so busy. You don’t tell her you haven’t even talked about the wedding with him at all. That you’re afraid that he’ll say once and for all that this is just a thing for convenience, to get the weight of the public’s eye off his back.

He hears your end of the conversation one late-May afternoon.

“Let’s do it.” His parents have been nagging him too. “Our families need to meet eventually.”

“How are we even going to plan this? I have a million things going on at work and so do you. When will we even do it?”

“Just give me a list of who you’d want to be at the wedding, and what dates you have free in September, and the planner will take care of the rest.”

The mention of the wedding has adrenaline pumping through your veins. It's the first time the word "wedding" has been uttered between you.

“How nice it is to have money.” You try to keep your tone light, cool.

“What’s mine is yours. You know that, right?”

He’s standing across the living room by the big window, framed a golden sunset halo. You can’t quite make out his face, but you hear the weight of his sincerity in his voice. The bigness of it all scares you.

“Time to buy a house and invest in the stock market, I guess.”

He just gives you a slow shrug. “If that’s what you want…”

“I’ll look on Zillow and get back to you with estimates.”

You excuse yourself to the bathroom, and he doesn’t bring it up again when you come back. He just plays the movie and hugs you close like he always does.

The planner makes it all happen. Invitations with hand-written addresses by an expert calligrapher get sent out, a venue overlooking the ocean gets booked. All you have to do is fill out a simple form the planner sends you. You pick your favorite flower, a color scheme, and your favorite alcohol for a signature cocktail. She even takes care of your dress, says you’ll have options ready on site along with a hair and makeup team. Money indeed.

Summer passes in a blur and you almost forget you even have an engagement party. The only reason you don’t book in a work thing on that date is because Seokjin sends you a calendar invite for the party, blocking out the entire day.

You pull up to the event alone, nose in your phone. A work emergency kept you at home sending emails all morning. Seokjin sent a car for you, told you he’d meet you at the venue later. You’re so engrossed in answering a nasty email from your boss’s boss that you don’t look up until you’re fully inside. It’s not what you expected.

You thought there would be tables for guests, with a dance floor and maybe a little stage for musicians or a DJ. Instead, you’re standing halfway down an aisle, rows of chairs on either side of you. Dahlias, just like you asked, decorate the space, with fairy lights twinkling gently around the blooms. There’s an arch at the end of the aisle on a raised dais.

You turn at the sound of your name.

Seokjin stands at the entrance, looking more nervous than when he had to host an award show.

“What’s all this?” you ask. You think you know the answer, but you need him to say it for you to believe it.

“Our wedding. If you want it to be.”

“What do you mean if I want it to be? This looks like a done deal.” You’re shaking a little, in the frozen stage of fight or flight.

He approaches you like one would a frightened animal.

“I mean exactly what I said. This could be our wedding, if you want it to be. We can change this back to an engagement party if you don’t want to. It’s up to you.” He takes his hands in yours. Red creeps up his neck to his ears. “I know you took it as a joke when I asked you to marry me, but I was serious. I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

You look into his eyes, so tender and full of love, and know you have two choices.

“I know marriage makes you nervous, because of what happened with your parents, and because you changed the subject every time I tried to bring it up. So I thought I would surprise you, show you how serious I am about you. But I can wait. We can change it all back if it’s too much, too soon. The staff are on standby.”

Reverting back to an engagement party is not an option. Because you may lose him while you try to sort your shit out. He might walk away. And that would crush you. Because it’s like you’re missing a limb when he’s not around. Because his laugh is the best sound you’ve ever heard. Because, you finally admit to yourself, you love him. The way he’s looking at you, so unsure but full of hope, your walls crumble.

“It’d be a shame to put all their hard work to waste.”

His smile rivals the sun. Your vision goes fuzzy as your eyes fill with tears.

“I’m not changing my last name.” Your voice cracks.

He brushes the tears from your cheeks, catching them as they fall. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“And I don’t have any vows written.”

“I had them put some standard ones in your room. You can choose whatever you like. Or no vows, it’s up yo you.”

“You thought of everything.”

“I tried to.” He kisses you once, twice. “Now go and get ready. Guests will start arriving in a couple hours.”

“Oh my god, I still have to choose a dress.” You use your palms to wipe your face and let out a watery laugh. “My mom’s gonna kill me for this. She’ll die of joy then come back to kill me.”

He laughs and takes your hand to lead you toward the dressing room. You almost don’t want to leave him now, but he pushes you in the door with a little smile. The hair and makeup team are waiting for you, but you remember something at the last second.

“Seokjin!” He’s halfway down the hall, but turns back at your voice. You run to him and wrap him in a hug. “I almost forgot. I wanted to tell you I love you, too.”

His arms tighten around your waist and he buries his face in your neck.

“I know, love. I know.”

A/N: This fic came from a wild dream where–surprise!–I was getting married to Seokjin. I had to write it down, but it came across super creepy outside of dream logic lmao. Seeing it written down reminded me of all those AITA posts about people getting surprise weddings from toxic partners, which was not the feeling I had in the dream, so this is the result of that. Not included in the fic but featured in the dream: a coworker being a total hater about it, the rest of BTS (sorry).

Please do not copy or repost. I do not crosspost anywhere else

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moonleeai · 2 years ago

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More goodies 💝🥵😍

BangtanWritersHQ Presents: "Bangsmas” Masterlist

Snow flurries were dancing around in the wind, making the world around you look like a snow globe. A beautiful sight that signified the start of the holiday season, a season of joy, high spirits, and-

“I hate the snow, I hate the cold, I hate everything.”

And the occasional grinch.

“But its winter! It’s a perfect way to get into the holiday spirit!” You squealed, shaking him to try and muster up some joy.

“What if I hate the holidays?” He quips, unfazed.

You cuddled closer to him, leaning to whisper into his ear, “I can think of a few ways to get you into the holiday mood.”

December brings us winter, holidays, and the birth of two of our favorite men. This event is all about our TaeJin or JinTae. Whether its helping them get in the mood, or them getting you in the mood, or just plain being a Grinch, give us something to start (or end) our holiday season with a bang! The perfect follow up to “No Nut November”!

KEY:

🔞 - nsfw (mature themes)

✅ - sfw (no warnings)

💖 - smut

⚠️ - other warnings

SET UP - emojis: Title (if link is to another platform) | Author [parts] pairings, genre/aus, rating, word count

Keep reading

#bwhq #bwhq writing event #bwhq writing events #bwhq network #bangtanwhq #bangtan writers hq #bangtan writers hq network #bangsmas #bts imagines #bts #kim taehyung smut #kim seokjin smut

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parkjimin313 · 2 years ago

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#bts #jimin #taehyung #jhope #jungkook #jimin quotes #networkbangtan #bangtan network #parkjiminssi313 #rm #namjoon #jun #seokjin #yoongi #suga #hobi #jk #jeon jungkook

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jjkwyd · 8 months ago

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bts reacts! you try to make them jealous

ღ requested: ooo maybe do a reaction where you try to make the members jealous

ღ network: ——

ღ genre: fluff/angst

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➳seokjin

he immediately knew what you were doing. you were failing miserably at trying to flirt with the waiter. he held himself together as he watched you, letting you embarrass yourself. when the waiter left and walked to go place your order, he raised his eyebrow at you. “what was that?” he asked in a sweet tone. “whyyy are you jealous?” you smiled innocently as he couldn’t help but laugh. “jealous? i thought that was entertaining,” he smiled innocently as your jaw dropped. “funny?!” you sounded offended as he nodded. “it was a good try,”

➳yoongi

he watched you as you talked with the security guard that was by the door of his building. he couldn’t help but stare with daggers as you pushed the guards shoulder at his joke. yoongi grabbed your hand and pulled you inside quickly. “hey,” you whined as he looked at you. “what the hell was that?” his voice was a bit cold as you looked at him innocently. “what do you mean?” you pressed your lips together to keep yourself from smiling as he looked at you, realizing you were messing with him. “oh… that’s really funny,” he rolled his eyes a bit before walking off as you started to laugh.

➳hoseok

he watched you, his smile faded into a frown as you talked with the barista at the cafe you usually visited before work. you didn’t really think about flirting with him until you noticed hoseok. that’s when you decided to mess around with him. “byeee, i’ll see you tomorrow? when do you work?” you asked innocently then walked out with hoseok as he looked at you. “why do you talk to him like that?” hoseok immediately said when the door closed behind you. “what do you mean?” you took a sip of your latte as he sighed. “ill see you tomorrow,” he quoted you as you nodded. “im always here anyways,” hoseok sighed. “yah, don’t flirt with people like that, okay?” he missed the idea that you were just messing around with him.

➳namjoon

his jaw clenched as he watched you talking with jungkook. immediately getting jealous with the idea of you flirting with a different man. it took him a moment then realized you were doing it to get a rise out of him. he sat down and watched everything unfold. smiling to himself at how awkward you looked because you were already expecting him to be with you and ask what was happening. he watched as the painful conversation ended and you walked over. “what was that about?” he smiled softly as you thought. “oh i was asking about his piercing, i told him it looked nice,” he nodded then smiled at you. “flirting is not for you at all,” you blushed as you realized he caught on to what you were doing.

➳jimin

he watched as he saw you talking with his choreographer. his eyes shooting daggers between the two of you, he never invited you to watch his practice before but he was sure this would be the last time. you noticed him staring at you a while ago and decided to play with your hair as you talked about jimin to his own choreographer. “y/n!” jimin called out, faking the sweetness in his voice as you walked over. “yes…?” he held your wrist a little tight. “how about you go home? get some rest.” “why is that?” you questioned. “i don’t appreciate you flirting in front of my eyes. so…go. home.” you stifled a laugh. “what’s so funny?” he looked dumbfounded then realized. “you were messing with me…” he fake laughed, trying to pretend like he was in on the joke.

➳taehyung

he smiled at you as you both were painting in the class he paid for you to do. the teacher came around and complimented your progress, you smiled to yourself and got the idea to joke around and make taehyung jealous. “well i have an amazing teacher,” you complimented them as tae listened closely, figuring out what was going on. you threw a few more compliments the teachers way and taehyung cut you off. “hey, does this look right?” he innocently asked the teacher as he looked at his painting and complimented him then finished his rounds of looking at everyone’s work. “well i have an amazing teacher,” taehyung mumbled as he was mocking you a bit. “what? i’m not supposed to say something nice?” you looked at him with innocent eyes. “well, not when it’s flirting. jeez y/n” you giggled as he stared at you dumbfounded then realized and nodded a bit. “you were actually just being nice… not flirting….” you kissed his cheek and smiled. “bingo”

➳jungkook

he watched as you talked with his gym instructor, leaning up against one of the machines, playing with your hair and laughing at their jokes as jungkook watched you closely. he didn’t hear what you were saying and he cleared his throat, not wanting to say something about you talking to his instructor in front of them. “hey! i gotta go home… my stomach is messed up” he came up with an excuse as you looked over. “it is?” he nodded to your question as you said bye to his instructor. as soon as you were out of there jungkook looked at you. “what was that?” he looked a bit hurt as you looked at him. “just a conversation,” he shook his head. “a flirty one,” he still looked a little upset as you felt bad and kissed his cheek. “i was just messing with you,” he looked at you a little funny. “promise?” you nodded. “i promise, you’re like a million times hotter”

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clubdionysus · 6 months ago

Text

[BAD DECISION #33] Boundaries (Or Lack Thereof)

warnings: miscommunication, kim seokjin!!!!, things are getting messy for our starluvrs, kissing, half a handjob, chess, even more miscommunication!!, fingering, titty sucking, star talk, 69, oral (m&f), ass eating (f), squirting, slight overstimulation, unprotected sex, creampie

wc: 12k

bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

"Wait, wait, wait. Slow down," Hoseok mumbles through a mouthful of shreddies, the hand that isn't holding his cereal bowl waving around in the air. He swallows harshly, then clears his throat. Looks at you. Throws you an expression of disgust, almost as if you've just divulged your deepest darkest secret- although, in a way, you sort of have. "You went to a what with who ?!"

Rolling your eyes, you sink further into your state of despair, curled up in the confines of an armchair in the art cafe. Phone in your lap, you're ignoring the messages Seojoon sent through this morning to ask if you're free this week. Aren't sure you're in the right headspace to be dating.

On your break, today's shift is quiet. No one is in, and no one is booked in, either. It'll be quiet for the whole day. Just one of those rare occasions you cherish. Easy money.

That being said, Hoseok's insistence on being a nosey fucker is making it a hell of a lot more difficult.

It's not like you had planned on telling Hoseok about everything you'd done while away in Busan - but the photobooth pictures were still in your bag. You'd forgotten about them when you'd asked him to go and grab your charging cable for you. Had entirely slipped your mind that Jeongguk was kissing you like he was trying to win the MTV award for 'best kiss' in a fair few of them.

And you were also blissfully ignorant to the fact the branded love motel receipt was in your bag as well. Had just thrown that in there, too.

After all, it's your bag. You'd never intended on anyone seeing either of those. It's been a week since you returned home. Have barely thought about the contents of your bag since.

But as soon as Hoseok had shrieked, you knew his eyes had been violated - and your right to privacy had well and truly been ruptured.

"Since when have you two-"

"Please don't."

"- been fucking ?"

"Oh, god," you groan again, hand covering your eyes. Pulling the pillow out from behind your back, you press your face into it. Scream. Thankfully, it's muffled. Hoseok doesn't quite understand the pandemonium.

"Why are you so dramatic," he laughs, tugging on the corner of the pillow to steal it from you - but your grip is firm. You need the pillow, because you need somewhere to bury shame.

It's an odd thing, sex. It's the most human thing we can do. So natural and yet so weighted. It should be casual. It should be without consequence. It's human nature, after all. What we're 'supposed' to do.

And yet, you know the consequence of sex is huge . You know that sex isn't just about pleasure. You know there is more to it. Know that it's all primal, and that it goes back to being cavemen, or whatever, and building networks for survival - but you're pretty sure they fucked around without consequence, too. There are, like, nearly eight billion people to prove that assumption correct.

Okay, so maybe their offspring was the consequence of the inconsequential lays, but, like, you're on birth control. Should you have let him finish inside you? No, probably not. Is it the worst thing that could have happened? No, definitely not. Has it made you suddenly overly aware of exactly what you've been doing with Jeongguk for god-knows how long? Yeah. Just a little bit.

It's all you can think about.

Wake up; think about the weight of his body on top of yours.

Brush your teeth; think about him behind you in the bathroom mirror.

Go to work; think about that stupid canvas up in his living room.

Go home; think about what it'd be like if he showed up out of the blue with an incessant need to fuck you.

Shower; think about, well... showers. Just ones with him instead.

Go to bed; think about him, and his hair, and that stupid lip ring, and the way he giggles, and the way he gets all moany and - fuck .

You are corrupted . Like a computer malfunctioning, Jeongguk has ravaged your servers. You'd let him do it again, though. Without question.

And now you're thinking about it again. Squeeze your thighs together, 'cause you're remembering the way he kissed you in the elevator. Lips soft, tongue gentle. Oh God . He's your friend . Pull yourself together!

"It's not a big deal-"

"Remember that one time he lied to you?" Hoseok interrupts, perching his ass on one of the cafe tables just across from you, crossing his arms. You raise your head. Glare a little. He's dressed in white cargo pants and some obscure indie brand t-shirt, so perfectly him, but so awful for a job involving paint. You're in all black. Of course you are. "Remember how mad you were? Swear there was steam coming from your nose."

You're not sure where he's going with this, so you narrow your eyes. "No there wasn't. But what of it?"

Hoseok shrugs. Doesn't laugh, but he is smiling like an absolute fool. "I'll get moody with you, if you don't stop lying."

Your jaw drops. Voice rises in pitch. "I'm not lying!"

"Bullshit."

"Honest-"

"You wouldn't be reacting like this if it was no big deal!"

With a purse of your lips, you pause. Consider that maybe he has a point - but it doesn't matter. You don't want it to be a big deal.

So you'll fake it till you make it.

"Look, I'm just processing things! Like, okay, yeah we did fuck." Oh, what a glorious thing to admit. You fucked Jeon Jeongguk. He fucked you . Oh, what a mess. "But we're both very much in agreement that our friendship is too good to lose-"

"You don't fuck your friends," Hoseok interrupts, all very stoically. "At least, you've never fucked me, and no offence, but the idea of it makes my skin crawl."

"Yeah, but you're like my brother," you reply, not offended in the slightest. Would rather set yourself on fire than shag Hoseok. It's not that he's not attractive - he's got a smile that could end wars and a personality that you'd happily grow old with. You're just not attracted to one another like that. Simple as that.

Jeongguk... yeah. Something about him just really gets you going. Always has done. That first night is a little sketchy - but you never forgot the barman with the smile and little shots of purple magic. As handsome as he is kind, you sort of think every human attracted to men would feel this sort of way about Jeongguk.

"Well, what do you think?" You ask Hoseok. "About Jeongguk?"

"What about him?" Hoseok asks right back.

You adjust in your chair. Focus your attention fully on him. Your friendship flourished with discussions of your relationship issues, and his dating history isn't too dissimilar from yours. He doesn't label himself when it comes to his preferences. Just says he goes for 'vibes.' Shame, really, that the 'vibe' he goes tends to be that of 'toxic prick'.

"Well... I -" you struggle to form a coherent sentence. Pause. Think. Rephrase. "He's hot, right? Like, the kinda guy you'd expect to see on a billboard? Right, Hobes? He is hot?"

"Are you asking me or telling me?" Hoseok laughs, catching the pillow with ease as you toss it at him. "Yeah, he's hot. Probably in your top three lays."

You groan. Didn't need to be reminded. Also know that he thinks Seokjin is, like, the walking dictionary definition of 'gorgeous'. You wonder who he prefers, when it comes to looks. Decide that you're better off not knowing.

Even if Hoseok does think Seokjin is in that top three, he also knows how horribly he treated you and would never actually think nicely of him.

"Look," he sighs. "Jeongguk's a nice guy. I remember how things were this time last year. You and me... shit. We were both going through it. It was a really fuckin' sucky time."

You nod. Are thankful you had Hoseok while you were dealing with the demise of your relationship with Seokjin. He's just as thankful for you, in regard to his.

"Thing is, I don't know about you, but I can pinpoint the day it felt like we finally had you back. Took fuckin' ages. Was really hard to see you go through all that," he admits. There's a weight in your heart. Your era of self-destruction had been yours and yours alone. Not once did you consider that maybe it would be a heavy burden for those who loved you, too.

It was never a burden. Not in Hoseok's eyes, nor Danbi's. Just a cycle of life we all go through.

"I'm sorry," you say quietly, a little ashamed, aware of how many nights were wasted crying over a man who simply wasn't willing or able to love you. Not like he said he did.

Hoseok shakes his head. "Don't apologise. It was both of us. I know I wasn't easy, either."

"You were fine," you reassure him. "Totally fine. Honestly."

He rolls his eyes. Knows that he was partying way too hard.

"It doesn't matter. What I'm saying is that there was you before Jeongguk, and you after Jeongguk," he says kindly. Smiles; lips pursed together, eyes soft. "You after Jeongguk? Yeah. Feels like you before Seokjin."

With Hoseok's words comes a sucker punch; a blow to your heart that makes it feel like your stomach has been stolen. You've known for a while that progress has been made. Are fully aware of Jeongguk's impact on that - but thought it was a little secret just for you. Like a safety pin in an ill-fitting dress, or glitter sprinkled into your moisturiser. Thought that nobody could see just how important he was for your progress.

But Hoseok's known for a while now. Has known far longer than even he realises. Just started equating your happiness to Jeongguk. The shifts you worked following time spent with him were always full of far more laughter. The shifts you worked knowing you'd see him afterwards were always a lot more optimistic. When he actually thinks about it, there are few times you've been genuinely miserable at work in the last few months, and those occasions nearly always align with Jeongguk and a little girl drama that you moan to Hoseok about.

"Do I think Jeongguk is entirely responsible for that?" Hoseok continues when you go quiet. "No. You're the one who's done the hard work - and trust me. I know it's hard. I had sleepovers with the she-devil -" You laugh quietly at the newly coined nickname for his ex. "- way more times than I admitted to you and Danbi after the breakup. But Jeongguk... Yeah. I'm not sure if it's correlation or causation. I just know it's not a coincidence."

You shrug your shoulders a little. Aren't really sure if he's right or not. Just know that there's no denying Jeongguk played a vital role in dragging you out of your Seokjin-shaped pit of despair.

"I asked him," you begin quietly. It's a little embarrassing. You've not even told Danbi, yet. You know she'll go to bat for you whatever the weather, and worry about souring their friendship. But you need to tell someone . Someone needs to know you tried . "I asked him what was going on between us... and he made it pretty clear he views me as a friend. So, like, it doesn't really matter."

Friends, he had said, but then he kissed you like he meant it.

Fucked you a third time. Lazily. Slowly. Languidly. Confusingly. Intimately. Had laughed with you after your incredibly early climax, pressing a kiss to your cheek, his beating heart thumping against your chest.

Had looked down at you while you were lying between his legs, tongue trailing up his cock, pretty smile on his lips and reached for your hand. Held it. Whispered some bullshit about how lucky he is. Finished in your mouth, then kissed you afterwards to say thank you.

But when the caricature lady down on the boardwalk had asked if you were a couple later that evening, Jeongguk had quickly corrected her. " Friends ." The hearts that would have been drawn between you were instead replaced with stars. It was fitting. As it should be.

Stars, not hearts.

Friends, not lovers.

"I'm not really sure fucking in a motel is a friendly thing to do," Hoseok simply states - but is cut off by the ding of the art cafe door swinging open. It's a couple not much younger than yourself. Uni students, you imagine. Matching branded shirts and dark slacks.

Hoseok walks over to greet and set them up for their session. It's two girls, and the taller of the pair watches her partner with absolute fondness as she organises the canvas sizes they want, and the drinks they'll order. Her eyes shine like the reflection of the moon in Gwangalli harbour, and it makes your heart hurt a little.

It's been so long since you felt someone look at you like that. Nearly a year on since your last relationship ended, the prospect of falling in love isn't as scary as it once was. Not really.

A smile tickles at your lips. Isn't as scary as it once was. Your fingers toy with the dainty bird on the chain around your neck. Its purpose, it would appear, has been served.

And perhaps that's it; perhaps you're just ready, now.

If you are, then of course, it would be natural for you to confuse your feelings for Jeongguk. It had always been a non-option before. A 'what the fuck' not a 'what if'. Yet your heart is quietly calm when you think about what it could be like to pursue someone romantically. It thump, thump, thumps; adrenaline in your chest. Maybe you can do this.

This is what you've been working for. This is it.

Oh the realisation is freeing. Welcome. Wondrous.

And so as Hoseok rings up the bill for the girls by the counter before they start their date, you slip into the staff room. Take your phone off charge, and call through to the only person you ever ring these days.

It takes a few dial tones, but he picks up.

He always does.

"Hey," Jeongguk says through the phone, a little breathless. "Sorry, just with Joon. Playing tennis. You good, Byeol?"

"Yeah," you say quickly, with a sense of urgency in your tone. "Sorry, is now a bad ti-"

"No," he interrupts, as if he hasn't just got a bollocking from Namjoon for dipping mid-rally to take your call. "Not at all. What's up?"

"I won't keep you," you hurriedly reply. Really, you don't want to take up any more of his time - it's just that you want to be sure. Want confirmation that you're doing the right thing. "I've been asked on a date. Seojoon, again. What do you think?"

There's a second of silence. A skipped heartbeat. A missed signal.

"Uh, yeah? Sure? I mean, sounds great." There's uncertainty in his voice, but he masks it well. "That's what you want, right?"

"I don't know," you admit, as you lean against the wall, a little defeated. There's a vulnerability to your honesty. One that makes you nervous. Unsure of yourself. Start to ramble, because it's much easier than getting straight to the point. "It's just... you and me. We've done so much together recently, and like... it's always really nice. And fun. And like, I don't wanna ruin our friendship or anything like that. It's just things don't scare me in the same way they used to and I thought that maybe-"

"I gotta get back to the match, B," Jeongguk's voice crackles through the phone. Smiles, 'cause he thinks it will make him sound happy. It doesn't. "Joon's moaning. Sorry. Look, you do what you need to do. He seems nice. We'll talk later, alright?"

"But I-"

The line goes dead before you can express what you really want to get across. Your lips rest ajar; unspoken syllables fading into nothingness.

Jeongguk is gone, and with him goes any hope you had foolishly put into thinking maybe things could continue as they are.

But your agreement was contingent on your fears, not your hopes.

What a silly little fool you are.

And what a silly thing for Jeongguk to have done; phone in his hand, frown on his face.

Sitting on the rigid steel bench beside the court, Namjoon is nowhere to be seen. He's gone to the bathroom. Jeongguk never had to hang up.

He just didn't want to say things he couldn't take back. Didn't want to discourage you from doing the one thing that you've worked so fucking hard for: a normal relationship.

It's the least you deserve - and what kind of asshole would he be if he were to help you prepare for one only to sabotage you as soon as it seems as if one is on the horizon.

Running a hand through his hair, Jeongguk shakes it back down into position. The sun is glaring down despite the cold winds that whistle through the trees, and a little fleck of glitter catches in it. His skin is dappled in a dozen reminders of you, even if the hickies have faded, now.

In a park downtown, he's been with Namjoon all morning. Tennis isn't their sport of choice, usually, but it's with purpose.

"C'mon. One match," Namjoon had begged Jeongguk the night before. "I need to catch this guy outside of the office. Get him when his guard is down."

Working on a story about insider trading, Namjoon has been trying to talk with someone at one of the big firms up in the financial district. No one huge. Just a middleman. An investor. Sort of like the investment analyst he met at one of Taehyung's art shows. One of the ones that Seokjin had forwarded the invite along to.

The same one that Namjoon had schmoozed. The same one Namjoon had lied to, when he said 'oh, you play tennis? Whereabouts? I'm looking for a new club."

And so now Jeongguk is two matches in, regretting all of his life choices while Namjoon makes small talk with men wearing watches that cost more than Jeongguk's entire net worth.

So preoccupied with thoughts of you, teeth nibbling down on his bottom lip, Jeongguk almost doesn't realise Namjoon hurry back over to the court.

"Play it cool, play it cool," he whispers, his dark hair cropped short, white tennis polo pristine on his broad shoulders. He really does look the part. Jeongguk is a gym rat through and through, but he's tried today. Is in shorts. Isn't wearing a polo 'cause fuck that, but has coordinated a seamless all-Nike look. "The guy I'm after is here. He's booked in for the court beside us-"

"How do you-"

"The reservation system is easy as fuck to bypass, just needed a plugin," Namjoon dismisses Jeongguk's questioning, as if it's a totally normal thing to do. Perhaps in his field of work, Jeongguk considers, it is. "Anyway, not important. Park Sungkyu is his name. Analyst at Shilla Finances. Probably won't know shit, but will know people who do. I just need to touch base. Get connected."

Jeongguk rolls his eyes, but stands up nonetheless. Pats himself down, and tosses his phone back into his rucksack, which is slouched against the leg of the bench. "You owe me."

"I'll buy you all the meat you want," Namjoon grins, heading over to the other side of the net.

"We're going straight to a samgyeopsal place after this," Jeongguk assures him. Is almost positive his stomach rumbles as soon as he says it. "Fuckin' starving."

"You're always starving," Namjoon laughs - but he doesn't mind. They've already been at the club for far longer than anticipated. If anything, he feels a little bad. "Let's rally."

Bouncing a luminous yellow ball against the gritty surface, Namjoon gets a feel for the weight. Jeongguk leans forward a little, knees bent. Twists the racket he rented from the club shop between his palms. For someone who has no interest in the sport, he sure does look good playing it.

Both of them ignore the looming presence coming their way. Men. Two of them. Tall. Broad. Similar silhouettes, but entirely different auras. One is far more imposing. Makes Jeongguk wanna look in their direction - but he doesn't. Just focuses on Namjoon as he begins to swing through a smooth serve.

A little uncoordinated, what Namjoon may lack in grace, he makes up for in gritty determination. He's fun to play against, 'cause Jeongguk never knows what's coming next.

"Well, I never," a charming, brooding voice echoes from afar. "Kim Namjoon."

He concedes the point immediately. Lets the ball bounce off into the empty space behind him as he turns to face the approaching men.

"Park Sungkyu," Namjoon grins back, bowing ever so slightly to greet him. Jeongguk follows suit. "Fancy seeing you here."

Short sides, long top, Sungkyu's dark hair is held in place by a white sweatband. Like Namjoon, he's in crisp white tennis attire. Lips thin, nose a little crooked, Jeongguk wonders just how many rackets he's taken to the face. Definitely has the sleazy persona to warrant it.

Maybe Jeongguk's back is just up. Maybe he's just aware that Sungkyu is an acquaintance of your ex. A friend .

Any friend of your shithead ex is, as far as Jeongguk is concerned, also a shithead.

Which means the other guy most likely is, too.

He's tall. Rivals Namjoon. Shoulders broad, gaze icy, there's something about him that just irks Jeongguk. Perhaps it's the arrogant smirk, or perhaps it's the designer garments on his well-built frame. Perhaps it's jealousy - this guy looks like he's got his shit together, which is something Jeongguk could only dream of.

But he also seems older. It's unfair to compare.

Jeongguk might not care for the formalities, but he was raised well. Will greet his elders with respect.

After all, it's irrational for him to have such a bee in his bonnet.

Maybe it's you. Maybe he's just so frustrated with the situation at hand that he's letting it impact his other interactions - and so he shakes his head softly and realigns it with a warm smile. Will let the other men initiate a greeting.

Naturally, they do. It's the taller one. Holds out his hand for Jeongguk to shake.

Jeongguk follows suit. Nods politely. Thinks he might die, when the gentleman in front of him says, "Kim Seokjin. Nice to meet you. A friend of Namjoon's, I assume?"

Hand still in Seokjin's grasp, Jeongguk wants to strengthen it. Use it against him. Flip him onto his back and tackle him to the fucking ground. Wants to do shit that he knows would grant Seokjin a restraining order against him.

But instead, he smiles. "Correct. Jeon Jeongguk."

His name means fuck all to Seokjin. Sparks nothing inside of him.

But something that does catch his attention?

The glitter on Jeongguk's tattooed arm, glimmering in the low winter sun.

Seokjin smirks. Lips plump, jaw well-defined, Jeongguk understands why you didn't like kissing anyone after him. Fuck . How the fuck could he ever compete with lips like those?

"Assuming that's not yours?" he nods towards the pretty sparkles as he lets go of Jeongguk's hand.

Shaking his head, Jeongguk is coy. "Correct. Not mine."

Oh, but it is, babe.

"I feel for you," Seokjin laughs, entirely unaware of whom may have stained Jeongguk in the evidence of their affection. Seokjin's skin is pristine. Not a speck in sight. It comforts Jeongguk. "Really, I do. That shit's a bitch to get off, isn't it?"

"I used to date a guy," your voice had lingered. "And he was so cool, yanno? So smart, and mature, and he was just... you know people who have shit figured out? He's like that. He's older. Wiser. Anyways, glitter annoys him. Gets on his clothes and then apparently it's a bitch to get out but I'm so used to it that I never notice it-"

"It's not a bitch to get out."

"And like, he's just, mature, yanno?"

"Yeah, you said that."

"So," you had shrugged your shoulders into Jeongguk's mattress. "He doesn't like glitter."

"It's not a bitch to get off," Jeongguk simply smiles. Shrugs a little sheepishly. Is about to say something he really shouldn't, but knows better. "And anyways, I like the reminders."

Oh, how Jeongguk wants to be vulgar .

Wants to say shit about the way he always ends your sessions covered in it. Want to tell Seokjin how well he handles your body; how he knows you didn't cum the last time you were in bed with him, and how Jeongguk always makes you cum.

But the reason Jeongguk has glitter on his skin today is because he slept on your side of the bed last night. Missed you. Wished you were there.

And so he won't speak of you in such a way. Not that he ever would, regardless.

"Credit where it's due," Seokjin nods, raising his brows, deliberately a little cheeky because he's assessing what kind of character Jeongguk has. "Girls who wear glitter, man..."

He's not even finished the sentence and Jeongguk already wants to rip Seokjin's enviable eyebrows straight off his face.

"... they sure know how to have a good time."

Oh , Jeongguk thinks. It's far less vulgar than he was anticipating from Seokjin.

Until he adds, "used to screw a girl who was always covered in it. Annoying as fuck. Good fucking lay, though."

Jeongguk is trying his hardest not to pick a fight, but Seokjin's face looks just as appealing as the figurine display units that Jeongguk so often shatters, right now.

Calm the fuck down. She'll kill you if you hit him. Calm. Idiot.

'Used to screw', he scoffs internally. You fucking dated her for, like, a year, you prick. Longer than that, maybe. I don't even know. But you're a fucking prick. And you didn't make her cum. Prick.

"Thought this was a club for gentlemen?" Jeongguk teases playfully, not wanting it to seem as if he's being critical. Has an act to play, after all. Will behave himself, but only 'cause Namjoon needs him to. "Surely that's no way to talk about women?"

Seokjin shrugs. "Boys will be boys."

"I don't know about you, Seokjin, but I stopped being a boy many years ago," Jeongguk laughs as he edges closer to Namjoon.

He wants this conversation to be over as soon as it can be. Wants to fucking leave. Wants to sprint to your place and fucking worship your glitter-covered skin. Wants to rid you of how awful loving Seokjin must have been.

It's been a matter of minutes, and Jeongguk already feels horrible on your behalf - and you had to endure this?! Loved the man who spoke about you like this?

Oh, it makes Jeongguk feel all sorts of sick.

Also makes him feel petty. Vengeful.

She came to me. That night you fucked her, and left her all fucked up? I'm the one she came to. I'm the one she trusts.

"Actually, now I come to think about it," Seokjin muses. "You must have met her - I assume you were at the Gallery? The Ryu? For what's-his-face?"

"Kim Taehyung," Jeongguk reminds him. Think's Seokjin would do well to remember to put respect on his name.

"That's it! My ex curated it. Asked me to come, but I had a prior engagement so I sent along Sungkyu instead."

Interesting, how Seokjin calls you his ex, now. Calls you his ex when you're doing shit he likes. Things he could be proud of.

Calls you nothing but a girl he used to screw when he's talking about glitter.

"Yeah, I know her fairly well," Jeongguk shrugs, seemingly indifferent. Seokjin doesn't deserve to know anything that's going on with your life as far as Jeongguk is concerned, and that includes the fact that he knows you're a 'good lay'. Instead, Jeongguk smiles. "It's a shame you guys didn't work out. Not the kinda girl you'd wanna lose."

Seokjin glances down at Jeongguk's frame, then back up. Scopes him out. Assesses what he could mean by that. Decides the kid probably has a crush on you. Cute.

Also a little true, but what does it really matter? Let Seokjin think you're desired. Let him know what a colossal error he made in letting you go. Let him rue the day you decided you were deserving of more.

"What did you say you do again?" Seokjin asks. "For work?"

The change in topic is direct. Pointed. Asserts Seokjin's place in the hierarchy. Knows Jeongguk is younger, and knows he ain't working no corporate job with his ink-scrawled skin and metal in his face. Knows he's beneath him.

"Just finished school," Jeongguk says, not missing a beat. Doesn't lose his posture, despite the fact he wants to sink his back down a wall and scream at the world for how cruel it can be.

He doesn't admit that he serves drinks to keep a roof above his head - a roof that he can only afford because Jimin is generous with the rent split.

"And then?" Seokjin presses. Wants to know who this kid is. Wants to know why the fuck his arms look like they've been held by you, and if the ever-so-faint mark left on his neck is from the scuff of a tennis ball or the pressure of your lips.

"The world is my oyster," Jeongguk shrugs, with a grin.

See, Jeongguk might not have financial security, or property of his own, or a business card that would bring his parents any pride, but he has one thing Seokjin doesn't; the freedom of youth.

He's not tied down to anything. Has no real obligations. Can do whatever he wants. Could drop everything and travel the world. Could retrain. Could really make something of himself.

And yet if Jeongguk were to find himself half the world away, lost down La Rambla, he knows it's you he'd wanna find once he finally reached Park Guell. Should he retrain, he'd hope for you to be his study partner; someone to keep him focused and yet entirely distracted in the university library. If he became a star, it'd be you he'd glance over to at the side of the stage during the song that made him his fortune - one about stars, and how he's got one of his very own.

"Youth," Seokjin muses, then calls over to his friend. "Ain't that a beautiful thing, huh, Sungkyu?"

"Hmm?" He hums in response, as the separate conversations merge together.

Seokjin nods down towards Jeongguk. "Kid's just finished school."

With a laugh, Sungkyu shakes his head. "Those were the days. Make the most of it while it lasts."

"Trust me," Jeongguk smiles. "I will. Now that you mention it, actually -" he taps Namjoons shoulder. "- I gotta get going."

"Oh?" Sungkyu asks, not that it makes much difference at all. "Not want a quick doubles rally? Put that youth to good use?"

With a shake of his head, Jeongguk shrugs. "Got plans with my girl that I can't miss. Something about youth, and putting it to good use, if you catch my drift."

The insinuation is clear, but what isn't?

Who the fuck Jeongguk's 'girl' is.

Namjoon sure as hell has no fuckin' clue, but Seokjin's looking at Jeongguk with stern, questioning eyes. There's glitter all over his skin. Acknowledgement that Jeongguk thinks you hold a certain value.

It's only confirmed when he says, "Sorry boys. Next time, maybe. Can't bail on her though." Repeats his earlier declaration as he walks away. "Not the kinda girl you'd wanna lose."

He'll apologise to Namjoon later. Explain himself. Is sure he'll understand his desire to leave.

Grabbing his bag as he heads past the bench, Jeongguk reaches in for his phone before slinging it over his shoulder.

Opens up his call list, and clicks your name.

Waits for the call to connect, and as it does, he doesn't wait for a 'hello'.

"Did you say 'yes' ?" Jeongguk immediately asks down the line. Furrows his brows when there's hesitation to your reply.

It's not like you need clarification. There's only one thing he could be asking about.

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, I did. Both are a bit busy this week, so it's next Monday."

He's the one who hesitates, now. Wants to stop walking and gather his thoughts, but fears Seokjin will be watching on.

"Okay," he says, tone hard to distinguish. "Will you come over tonight?"

"Tonight?"

"Yeah," he nods, not that you can see him. The entire conversation feels painfully awkward, both of you tiptoeing around the fragments of your broken relationship.

"What for?"

"Haven't really hung out since Busan," he says. Smiles. Tries a little humour. "And very soon you're gonna be ditching me for another man-"

"Oh, shut up."

"-so I wanna get as much time with my bestie as I can before that happens."

"I'm not gonna ditch you, idiot."

"So you're gonna come over tonight?"

You pause. Jeongguk nervously bites his lips as he waits for a response.

"I've got pole with Danbi."

"Come round after."

"I'll be tired."

"I don't care."

"I'll need a shower."

"I've got a shower. And really nice towels. And Jimin's out tonight, so you can use as much of his expensive conditioner as you like."

"And you'll order us food?"

"What do you fancy?"

"Meat?"

"This is why we're friends," Jeongguk grins down the phone. "Grab a taxi to mine after pole. Let me know when you're on your way, and I'll order food, okay?"

An agreement is made. He sort of knows what time to expect you at his - and yet he waits until you text to say you're on your way. Only then does he jump in the shower. Is quick. Wants to be ready for your arrival. Always thinks he looks a little sexier fresh out of the shower.

Forgets all about that food he's supposed to be ordering. Will just figure it out when you get here. His head is all over the place, to be fair to him. Easy mistake.

As a knock sounds at his apartment door, Jeongguk swallows down the trepidation that's burning in his chest, towel wrapped around his hips, upper body on full display. Tiny droplets of water drip from his hair and run down his chest, but he doesn't care to properly dry himself off.

If anything, he's kinda hoping he'll end up beneath the shower once more before the night is over.

Unlocking the automatic bolts, Jeongguk looks entirely unashamed as he greets you.

"Hey, B."

Lips parting a little, you look at him as if he's crazy, before waltzing on past him. Shoes off, bag down beside them, you laugh. "What if it wasn't me at the door? And you were just there all naked and stuff?"

"Not naked," he insists. "Got a towel on - and like, I'm in my house. I can wear what I like."

And as watches you shake off the thick black padded coat you were wearing, he is all too aware that nakedness doesn't always equate to sexiness. You're fully clothed - but fuck . He can feel the blood draining from his face and heading straight for his cock instead.

"What?" You tease when you notice the look on his face. "I'm not naked."

You're quite far from it, actually.

Normally you're a lot more demure for pole. Sports bra, workout shorts that barely cover your ass to allow for maximum skin-to-pole friction. Shit like that.

This month, though, your pole instructor is on an empowerment hype. She's gearing everyone up for the singles holiday that comes every April. "Drowning your sorrows in jjajangmyeon and cheap alcohol is not enough. We don't need to be sexy for anyone - but we should be sexy for ourselves."

And so while you've got a pair of dark - and incredibly flattering - flared yoga pants on your bottom half, it's your top half that you know is really doing numbers on him. Your white tee is thin. Sheer, almost. Wide and oversized, the neckline lazily hangs off one of your shoulders, revealing the lace detailing of the lingerie you're wearing. It's black, and sparkles ever so slightly.

Or perhaps that's just you.

Glitter taints your skin like it always does, and Jeongguk finds himself in a subtle but certain trance.

Turning to toss your coat on the sofa, Jeongguk gets a glimpse of your ass. Yep . Still an ass guy. Hair up in a claw clip, he's reminded of how much he fucking likes your hair like this. Simplicity looks so good on a girl so complex.

You glance down at his body. Pretend like you don't feel the way that the slight tenting of his towel suggests how he feels.

You've a date next week.

Would be wrong to get on your knees for your friend.

Leaning your head back, you groan. Laugh. "I hate you."

It's a damn lie and you both know it.

"Hate you, too," Jeongguk laughs, just as frustrated as you are. Looks at you with such fondness it's a wonder he's able to fuck you in the way that he does.

"We shouldn't," you say. There's no need to elaborate. You both know what you mean. The hunger in his eyes and the way you wet your lips with the tip of your tongue says it all.

He nods. Agrees. "Absolutely not."

And yet you both remain fixed in position.

Jeongguk doesn't move, and nor do you, almost as if a magnetic pull is keeping your feet firmly in place.

You're a little subdued when you say, "I said yes to another date."

Again, he nods. He already knows. He told you to.

Gaze dark, Jeongguk's jaw is a little tense. He closes his eyes, soul hidden away from you. Tilts his head down, strands of damp hair falling in front of his face.

"So what does this mean for us?" You ask quietly.

Resuming his previous position, Jeongguk looks at you again. Walks your way. Stops only when he's a few inches in front of you. Curls his index finger and rests it beneath your chin. Tilts your face. Gets your eyes on his. Studies your face. Tips his head to the side and smiles.

Your glitter is pretty today, he thinks. Well, no, actually he thinks it's always pretty - but there's something about it today that he really loves.

"You're so sparkly, Byeol," he simply says. "So sparkly."

You roll your eyes. Smile in such a way that Jeongguk wants to kiss you immediately. Wants to feel the curve of your lips against his.

Instead, he licks his lips. Flicks against his piercing, then chews down on his plump bottom lip.

Eventually, he says, "I met him today."

"Hmmm?" you question, not really paying much attention. Too busy watching his lip ring do the thing.

"Seokjin."

Your eyes shoot up to Jeongguk's. He drops the soft support of his finger from your chin. Doesn't touch you, 'cause he wants space to be an option if you need it. There's a panic to the way your eyes dart across his face, almost as if you think he's joking, or something like that.

"Sorry?"

"Forgiven - hey!" He exclaims when you immediately flick his nipple.

You would apologise, but he thinks he deserves it.

"How did you-"

"Was at the tennis club. Joon has a mutual friend, or something like that," Jeongguk simplifies. There's no need to go into the intricacies of it all. Not now, at least.

"Did you..." you begin to question, but have no idea what you really want to ask.

Jeongguk auto-fills for you. "Talk? Yeah."

"How did that go?"

"Well," Jeongguk takes a deep inhale. Exhales. "I think I owe you an apology."

You narrow your eyes. Let your hands rest on his slim waist, keeping him close. You don't want space. You want security. Want Jeongguk around, 'cause the feeling that comes with thinking of Seokjin is always one of loss.

And so he edges forward. Leaves such little space between you that it may as well not exist at all. Drapes his arms over your shoulders. Forehead to yours. Nose against nose.

"What for?" you ask, as if this is normal. As if anyone in their right mind thinks that this is the kind of casual encounter you have with a friend. As if he isn't wearing just a towel, and as if his damp hair isn't melting into yours; tangling together to keep you connected.

His nose nudges against yours softly. A silent whisper of penance; comfort only found with you. More fool him for ever thinking he'd ever find it elsewhere.

"I get it now," he whispers. "Shit with Hayun. I get why you didn't give her the time of day, 'cause the second I realised who he was B... Shit. Thought I'd end up with a fuckin restraining order."

You pull back every so slightly. Get his eyes on yours. Tell him, "I'd be furious if you started a fight."

"I know. S'why I didn't."

The gap is closed once more. Your nose softly finds its home next to his. The grip you have on his waist tightens. He's drawn closer. And then your lips delicately press a 'thank you' against his.

"I'd be furious for your sake," you say, as if you didn't kiss him, not a single beat missed. Just like not a beat is missed when he kisses you , now. Gently. Just once. A punctuation mark between your sentences. "He's not worth it."

It's unclear who kisses who next; all that's certain is that it's happening. Neither of you wish to be accountable. You aren't making cognitive choices. Just following the will of your bodies. Aren't thinking all too hard.

But the kisses are hard. Firm. Words dying to be screamed that remain silent. Muffled breaths against each other's cheeks; hands on jawlines, fingers in hair. The intrusion of a tongue, and the welcome of one another. Dignity evades you both.

The friction of the way your bodies move in tandem has his towel loosening, and Jeongguk doesn't care to fix it. He's pressed against you, which stops it from slipping, and your hand is on his ass keeping him exactly where you want him. Ain't no way it's falling.

Not unless you want it to.

"Thought you said we shouldn't," he mumbles as his hands run all over your body, squeezing at your softest parts.

You hum a little noise of satisfaction into his mouth. Pant, as you say, "we aren't."

But then your hands come to the front of his towel. They loosen it fully. Make no attempt to stop it from falling as he manages to pull just a faction away from you. It pools around his feet, leaving him entirely exposed for you - and who are you to decline such an offer?

Hands wrapping around his thick length, you smile as he whines into your lips.

"We are."

"Yeah," you admit. "We are now. Want me to stop?"

He shakes his head, lips still on yours as you wank his shaft for him, slowly. Deeply. "Don't stop. Fuck. Feels so good."

Your grip is weak; dainty little strokes to match his pretty dulcet whines. The apartment is silent, save for the sound of you and Jeongguk, and the illicit encounter of which you're having in his living room.

Curtains wide open, the city could spy, if it cared to - but there's an anonymity that comes with a highrise, and an obscurity that comes with the way your bodies meld into one.

It shouldn't be like this.

Shouldn't be so easy when your heads make it so fucking difficult.

You wish you had restraint. Wish you had more willpower. Wish you were a better friend to a person who's been nothing but good to you - but it's how good Jeongguk is to you that makes you so inclined to thank him in such a way.

There's an aching in his chest that only eases when his brows furrow into kisses you give him; a pained desperation that he's so desperately trying to remedy.

But you've a date next Monday.

The potential for something to grow where there once was nothing but dry dirt. Jeongguk spent months cultivating the right conditions. Preening. Pruning. Making sure your soil was fed the correct nutrients. Watering you.

You're ready now.

And so he pulls away. Shakes his head. "Chess."

Your hands are off him immediately - but there's confusion all over your face. Didn't he say 'don't stop' ? Is this not what he wanted?

"I'm sorry," you blurt out, because this feels so foreign to you. So many times he's reminded you that 'chess is always an option' - but he's the one using it. He's the one who wants to stop. He's the one who doesn't want this. Want you.

Just like he didn't want you when you asked, 'what is this?' in Busan. Just like he didn't want you when you called earlier to ask him if you should say 'yes' to Seojoon.

Strike three. You're out.

"I'm sorry," you say again, a little slower as Jeongguk reaches down for the towel. Doesn't wrap it around his waist. Bundles it over his exposed area, instead. "I didn't mean to-"

"You didn't," he says quickly. Isn't 100% certain what you're about to say, but wants you to know this is a 'him' problem. "I just... B, you've got this date and like - okay, say it continues and goes well. How's he gonna react a few years down the line when he finds out we were still fucking about in the early days?"

I don't care, you think. Selfishly, cruelly, you don't care.

'Cause at the end of the day, you'll never care about Seojoon in the same way you care about Jeongguk. If you were ever made to choose, you wouldn't think twice.

It's shameful, how shameless you are.

Dropping your gaze, you nod. Understand. The way you've been thinking about Jeongguk is clearly not how he's been thinking about you.

It's not like you're in love with him or anything stupid like that - it's just that you think it wouldn't be a horrible fate to endure. In fact, it'd be quite nice to be loved by someone as gentle as Jeongguk. It'd be nice to love them, too.

"Right," you say - because he is right. "Sorry. I... Yeah. Shit. Sorry."

"I should get dressed-"

"Right, yeah. Yeah. Sorry," you say again, because you just can't seem to help yourself.

"Stop," he says. Offers you a smile. Really doesn't want you to fret about it. Just doesn't want you to make bad decisions because of him. "Don't say sorry. Just go get a shower alright? I'll grab you your towel."

All you can do is nod, and do as he says because you're fearful of doing the wrong thing. Scared he'll like you less than he does now; which you already think is less than you like him.

When Jeongguk goes to retrieve the towel, he finds it hard to breathe. His heart heaves and his breathing gets a little stagnated. Tears don't fall, but his lungs tremor as if it wouldn't be an unfathomable consequence.

The ache is back in his chest, and you're not there to remedy it. You're shutting the bathroom door. He hears it. Doesn't hear the lock, but he knows he has a towel to deliver.

Grabbing a pair of boxers, 'cause they're the closest thing to him, Jeongguk covers himself up a little. Just like his chest, his cock is aching. Just like his chest, it'll only feel better if he's with you - but that's simply not an option.

Looking across to his mirror, he slaps his cheek gently. "Get a grip, man."

By the time he makes it to the bathroom, you're already in it. Figure he'll knock, or just leave it by the door.

Small bubbles are scattered all over your body, your desire to rid yourself of skin touched by him overwhelming. The shame doesn't scrub away like you half think it will.

"B?" He calls through. "Can I come in?"

The shower shuts off.

"Yeah."

He's not sure what he's expecting as he presses down on the bathroom door handle. Sort of thinks you'll be shying away. Is right to assume such a thing. You're holding the hand towel over your body, not that it covers much.

Quietly, he's disappointed.

"Here," he smiles, lips pressed tightly together. Holds the bundled-up towel in the air.

"Legend," you smile back. "Thanks."

Job done, there's no need for Jeongguk to linger. He can leave, now. He should leave, now.

"Byeol-"

"Gguk-"

"Enjoy your shower," he says, coming to his senses and leaving immediately. Silently mouths curse words into his living room, 'cause what the fuck is wrong with him?! Why does he not know how to talk to you anymore? Oh it's all so fucked .

In the shower, you decide you have two options on how you deal with Jeongguk.

The first is the expected route; awkwardness, and a little uncertainty. Awful avoidance of communication due to fear of miscommunication.

The second is the opposite; to act right as rain, as if nothing is bothering you.

And given how much you hate the awkwardness, you decide that the second option is it. It has to be it. You spend the rest of your shower thinking it through. Hype yourself up. Rinse and repeat.

And surprisingly, it seems to work.

"Hey," you smile as you eventually enter his room, wrapped in the fluffy towel. Your smile is soft. Airy. Light. If you act like it's no big deal, then it doesn't have to be. "Got a shirt?"

He's just in sweats now. No boxers. Incredibly convenient. Outrageously sexy.

"Yeah," he nods. Sits up and leans over to the shirt discarded on his bedroom floor. It's been worn once. Not enough to be considered dirty, but enough to hold his scent. He tosses it over to you. Keeps his eyes on you as you shake the fabric out.

"Gonna watch me get dressed, you perv?" You tease.

Self-preservation 101. Joke about the things you desire the most.

And he knows he shouldn't, but he shrugs. "Do you want me to?"

And you know you shouldn't, but you say, "Yeah. I do."

"I-" he begins, but stops himself. Sits up a little. Leans forward. Edges further down the bed and reaches for the shirt you're holding. You don't object as he pulls it from your hands. "Don't. Don't put it on."

"No?"

He shakes his head.

"So what? You just wanna look at me?" You smirk, utterly confused by him - though his indecision would suggest that he's equally as confused.

His perplexion doesn't ease when you drop the towel. If anything, it gets even worse.

Cupping your tits, you hold them up a little. Can feel how hard your nipples are; subtle indicators of how badly you wish Jeongguk would just do something.

This time, he nods. "C'mere."

You tilt your head. "Oh? You want me now?"

"Shut up." He rolls his eyes. "Always want you."

"You didn't earlier."

"B," Jeongguk deadpans. Holds his hand out for you - and you take it. Let him pull you up onto the bed. Straddle his lap, like the good girl you so often are for him. He knows he shouldn't be doing this, but fuck it. Wants it - you - too badly to resist. Lets his hands stroke up your bare skin. "I was trying to be good."

You shrug, and Jeongguk marvels at the slight wobble of your chest. Doesn't even bother to hide his obsession. Just wraps his lips around one of your hard nipples and begins to suck.

"But this is good," you tell him, raking your finger through his delicately waved hair. Moan when he gets a little teethy. You like it so much. Can feel your pussy throb - and it's only exacerbated when his fingers slip between your folds. "So good."

He hums in agreement, quickly latching onto your other nipple as he pushes two fingers into you. It's so impossibly easy with you. He sucks your tit further into his mouth. Enjoys it so much more than he ever thought he would. Swears he could cum just by sucking on them for hours.

It's believed that when two stars orbit one another too closely, they begin to spiral. They spin and spin and spin, like a pair of ballerinas. Or Beyblades. Whichever takes your preference.

Jeongguk isn't so sure he's a star.

But he knows you are.

And his head is fucking spinning.

It goes around in circles. Chasing you; running from his feelings. Either, or. Both all at once, possibly.

Your hips rock into the rhythm of his fingers, the build of pleasure coming quickly. Even quicker, when his thumb begins to flick up against your clit.

"Oh, fuck," you whimper.

His spare hand massages at your chest, pinching your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. You're stimulated in such a way that you know Jeongguk could make you a weepy, moany mess within minutes. It's a skill he's mastered.

He sucks on your nipple for a moment longer, dulcet moans vibrating around you. Pulling away, he presses a dainty kiss to your hardened bud, then toys with it using his tongue. Swipes once, twice. Needs you in his mouth again. Fucking loves tits.

There's a gravitational pull between you both. Spinning and spinning and spinning. Closer and closer and closer.

Hands bunching in his hair, you stop him all rather suddenly. Pull his head back. Look at him with eyes that are full of stars. Warn, "you're gonna make me cum."

"Good," he smirks.

"Bad," you laugh, and holy shit, Jeongguk thinks he might die.

When two orbiting stars finally collide there are two possible outcomes.

One: an even bigger, greater star forming from their merged bodies.

Or two: the weight of their gravity being too strong to sustain anything but nothingness. Better known as a black hole. A void. Something of which Jeongguk fears.

There's a third, less spoken of, possible outcome of two stars merging: the creation of a magnetic field over a trillion times stronger than that of the earth. Short gamma-ray bursts would occur. The most energetic and luminous event known to space and time since the big bang itself.

You've been spiralling with Jeongguk ever since you met him.

It's only natural that when you finally collide, the world will change. Life will be distorted forevermore.

Neutron star collision, or black hole.

Only one thing is for certain: it's inevitable, now.

It will happen.

Naive to any of this, you lean down, damp hair waving around his face. Cup his cheeks. Whisper with a smile against his lips. "So bad, baby."

"Fuck," he whimpers into your kiss. You're not even getting him off, and it feels like he's gonna cum in his fucking sweats. "Oh, fuck, baby."

When he's all pretty and pliant like he is now, you find yourself wanting to fulfil all of his wishes. Remember the little stroppy moans in his brother's bedroom. Decide now is as good a time as any. It really could be the last time you get Jeongguk like this.

And so you'll give him anything he asks for; and then you'll give him more. Give him everything . Let him indulge in what it really could feel like to merge with a star.

Pressing wet kisses up his throat, teeth grazing on his earlobe, you love the way he gets a little giggly. Ticklish. It's cute.

Almost as cute as the way he chokes on his own spit when you say, "let me sit on your face."

He does not need to be asked twice. Lowers himself down the bed to make his face more accessible for you. God, he wants to drown in you. Wants to be covered. Soaked. Wants your excitement dripping down the corners of his mouth and trailing onto his neck. Won't be satisfied until you're screaming. Or creaming. Either or. 'Both' is preferable.

And yet you surprise him. Smirk. Turn. Straddle his waist for a moment, facing towards the end of his bed. Palm his excruciatingly hard cock through his sweats. Giggle as it jerks a little, needing more of your touch.

"Hips up," you say, and he complies. Lets you push his sweats down to his mid-thighs, eyes trained on his cock as it springs free from its restraints. Oh, god, you love it. Never has cock ever looked nicer than his. There's nothing you don't love, especially when it's all engorged and needy like it is now; precum weeping from the pretty, perfect slit on his tip.

Holding him by the base, your other hand gently strokes his balls.

"Fuck," he exhales.

Smiling to yourself, you're pleased. Regret all the time wasted on you over the past few months. Wish you had spent just as long on him. Are aware he probably likes eating ass so much 'cause he likes getting his eaten - and it's all you wanna do, now. Want him whining and whimpering all because of your tongue and a little spit.

For now though, you put your spit to use elsewhere. Let it slowly drip onto the head of his cock. Spread it with your thumb. Wank it down his shaft. Watch the way his legs tense a little, and find great amusement in how his body reacts to you.

"Yeah?" you hum. "You like that?"

Jeongguk just whines. Taps your hip. Tries to encourage you back. "Just sit on my face."

"Ask nicely."

"Please."

You look over your shoulder and raise a brow. "Less attitude. Ask me like you'll never get the chance to ask me again."

Funny, really, how you both feel like it really will be the last time.

And so Jeongguk concedes. Softly rubs his thumb against the pad of your hip. Has fucking stars in his eyes again. "Sit on my face for me, B. C'mon. Let me make you feel good. You know I will. Think I might die if-"

He's cut off by your laughing. Smiles, too.

"See, you don't wanna hear this shit," he says fondly. "Now get on my face you little gremlin."

"Such a romantic."

"I'm not here to romance you," he reminds you both, no matter how much he'd like to. "I'm here to make you cum. So let me."

The grace in which you've been trying to carry yourself with is abandoned. You're laughing, the change in positioning a little awkward. Clambering, would likely be the best way to describe it, but Jeongguk doesn't give a fuck. As soon as your knees are by his ears, his arms are hooked under your thighs, pulling you down onto his mouth.

His tongue immediately laps against you, there's no way to articulate the sensation that runs over your entire body. The stunted, muffled groan of pleasure that vibrates against your cunt is enough to send anyone into orbit. The moans he elicits from your pretty face are unlike anything he's ever heard; as if he hasn't made you come undone more times than he can even remember.

Sinking down, you're pleased to find how well your bodies align. Granted, Jeongguk's got his hips a little raised. Is helping you out - but as soon as your wet tongue circles around his thick head, all sensibility evades him.

"Oh my God," he husks against your pussy, sucking on your clit then switching to rapid flicks of his tongue. Pauses only to say, "suck me off."

It'd be too easy to just give in.

So instead, you gather a little spit in your mouth, slowly stroking his shaft with your palm. He's so big that you can't fully wrap around him, and the visual just makes your pussy throb even more.

His nose is nested against your entrance, nudging ever so gently as his tongue swirls over your clit. He's unaware of the way you're marvelling at him - until he's greeted with a sensation he'd fucking die for.

Spitting on his cock, you coat him in a slick wetness that makes him so much easier to play with. Working your hand up and down his shaft, you're so fucking pleased when he stops eating you out - not because you don't want it. Not at all. Just because you know it means he's struggling to use his fucking brain. It feels too good.

But then he spits, too.

"Fuck."

His tongue delves back between your folds. Sinks into your entrance. Pulls out. Sloppily trails up to your ass. Presses against the tight muscle you know he's been dying to play with.

"Do it, baby," you whisper, kissing up his cock before taking it in your mouth.

You're not sure if it's the permission, or the fact you called him baby, but Jeongguk seems to lose all ability to hold back. He spits, again. Gets you nice and wet. Licks against you. Kisses. Pushes his tongue a little harder against your rim.

The soft dulcet nature of your moan is obscured by the way his hips begin to pulse upwards. Any sense of control you had in this situation is lost. Eradicated. Handed over to him on silver platter as he fucks his cock into your mouth and his tongue into your ass.

Thing is, Jeon Jeongguk is an overachiever. Will make you feel better than anyone ever could. Will fuck you so well that you'll never think of Kim fucking Seokjin ever again. Secure in his position between your cheeks, nuzzling against you like a starved man, Jeongguk moves his hands. One tenderly strokes up your back, while the other comes to rub against your clit.

There's no accuracy, and quite honestly he's a bit overwhelmed. His hips are on autopilot, the sound of him hitting the back of your throat enough to get that spinning head of his absolutely sent into orbit.

And yet it's still fucking perfect. You pull away from his cock, strings of spit keeping you connected, hand wrapped around his base as he continues to fuck into your grip.

"Gguk, I'm gonna cum."

He shakes his head. It feels fucking incredible.

"I am. I'm gonna - fuck. Gguk," you whimper, forehead resting by his hip, totally and utterly succumbing to him. "Don't stop. Please. That's it."

But he shakes his head again. Pulls his hand away from your clit as a small tremor pulses through it. Hands gripping your ass, he pushes you away from himself ever so slightly. Watches as your seeping hole pulses around nothing. It's not an orgasm. Not fully. But it could have been.

The sensation is catastrophic. You wanna curse him out. Tell him he's a prick.

But your eyes are all teary and your body is all weak and feeble, and all you want is Jeongguk to kiss you for hours upon hours. Your soft whimpers have him smiling, his thick cock in desperate need of release, too.

Pulling himself from beneath, Jeongguk comes to lay beside you; head at the end of his bed, feet by the pillows. Your eyes are closed, mascara smudged, glitter sparkling. He laughs when he notices your pathetic little pout. Strokes a little loose hair behind your ear. Smiles even wider when you crack an eye open.

"So fucking mean," you mewl. He nods, and you notice just how soaked his face is. Chin, nose, cheeks. He's covered in you. And you like it. A lot. Kiss him, because you can. Then pout, again. "So you didn't drown?"

Shaking his head, Jeongguk apologises. "I'll make it up to you."

"How so?"

He shrugs. Shuffles down a little. Latches his lips around your nipple all over again. Smears the evidence of your pleasure from his chin to your tits. Sucks harder.

"So good," you mumble, stroking his hair. He really does love this. Loves how much you love it. Loves how nice it always makes him feel. Loves the way you've drawn him out of his comfort zone, only to prove that comfort can be found anywhere with the right person.

And so he makes sure to say, "love your tits so fuckin' much."

Oh, how this satisfies you.

"Still love your ass, too, though," he makes sure to say. "Don't get it twisted. Ass guy."

As his fingers dip to your cunt, his rock-hard cock rests against your thigh, languidly humping up against you. He doesn't even mean to do it. Is just his body. He has no real control.

He sinks a finger into your cunt. Just one. Strokes up against your inner walls. Finds that little section that always makes you whine just a little louder. Rubs it tenderly.

"Right there," you tell him, and immediately regret it.

Yet this time, he doesn't stop.

In fact, his touching gets more intentional.

He sits up. Positions himself between your legs. Continue to fuck just his middle finger in your soaked pussy. And then his other hand is on your clit. Fast. Unrelenting. The complete opposite of what he's doing inside you.

"Fuck."

"Let go," he tells you. "It's okay. Let go. I've got you."

And yet you can't, because you don't trust him not to be an asshole again.

The hand rubbing your clit pulls away. Is replaced by his lips pressing a pretty kiss against it instead.

"C'mon, B," he whispers, lips grazing against your sensitive bud. "Cum for me."

His lips kiss your clit again. Deeper, now. Ends with a flick of his tongue; and then a short, sharp suck.

Before you know it, his fingers are spanking against it.

"Yeah?" he grits as you begin to writhe beneath him. He alternates. Gentle spanks and fast rubs. Sinks a second finger into you. The sound is lewd. Wet. Needy. "You like that, huh?"

The feeling builds from the tip of your toes and top of your head, meeting at a divine union right where his fingers are fucking themselves into you. Jeongguk watches your face briefly, just to make sure you're as pleased as you sound - and fuck it, he knows. Knows that no one else will ever get you like this.

No one else will ever get you like this, because no one else will compare to his magnetic pull. He'll be the one orbiting you. He'll be the one you collide with; the one you merge with. Doesn't give a fuck if you do make a black hole instead of a neutron star, because at least you'll have experienced euphoria together.

After all, what are soulmates if not two halves of the same star?

Your whines are stunted. Caught in your throat as you bite down on your own wrist out of fear of being too loud.

"I got you," Jeongguk grits. Needs this. Needs to know that New Years wasn't a one-off. Needs to know that he knows your body better than anyone. "C'mon gorgeous. Give me what I want."

And it's as if all sense of restraint evades you; chest heaving, hips wriggling, toes pointing. The sensation is too great. Too strong. He's got you. He's got you, he's got you, he's got you. Got you whimpering. Got you cumming. Got your pussy squirting for him.

"Oh, shit. That's it," he almost laughs, but cuts himself off as he replaces his hand with his lips, suctioning around your clit. Just for a moment. For a second. Gets his chin and cheek covered in you as he pulls away. Rubs at your clit again. Spreads the reach of the wetness seeping from you. Soaks his sheets. Dips his head, 'cause fuck , he wants to taste you.

"Gguk," you whimper, the sensation getting almost unbearable.

"More," he just says. "Give me more, baby. Please ."

The sensation is a complex fusion of torture and unadulterated pleasure. He works your pussy until you're spent - and then licks up your folds. Body trembling, you really can't take any more.

Reaching down for him, you encourage him back up. He complies. Lets you nuzzle into his chest as he presses kisses into your hair. You'll have to rewash it, but fuck it. Right now? Couldn't care less.

"You're insane," he praises softly. "So fuckin' perfect. Fuck. Fuck." He laughs. "Shit. Swear you're not actually real sometimes. Just a figment of my imagination."

You laugh now, too. "Life sure would be easier if that were the case."

He supposes you're right - and yet wouldn't have it any other way. "Shower?"

Sleepily, you nod against his chest - and so as he gets up, he simply hoists you over his shoulder. The scream you let out is far from sleepy - and also far from the scream that muffled into his pillows. Spanking your ass just cause he can, he leads you both into the bathroom and sets you down on the counter. Knocks the shower into 'start' mode, and goes to retrieve the towels. Is pleased to find you smiling when he returns.

"Yes?" He questions, but you just shrug.

"Nothing." You hold your hand out - not for his, but for his cock. It's still hard. He hasn't finished - but he does walk straight to your palm. Grunts a little as you squeeze around it.

Your intention had been to just give him a quick hand job. Know that it won't take much to get him there.

For some reason, though, your legs part. You line him up. Nod when he asks, "sure?"

And even though you're tender, and it hurts a little, there's nothing you want more than for Jeongguk to finish inside you.

It really doesn't take much. You're not counting - too busy kissing him through his orgasm - but you're pretty sure it's barely even two minutes. In fact, he might spend even longer just warming himself inside you afterwards.

Doesn't stop kissing you. Not while he's keeping you plugged with his sperm, not when he withdraws, not when he cups your pussy to make sure you don't fucking drip onto his bathroom floor as he leads you both to the shower.

Kisses you while your bodies get wet, and kisses you while you let the conditioner soak into your hair. Kisses you through the rinse, and kisses you even after the water is shut off.

Just kisses and kisses and kisses. Because he can. Because he wants to. Because if he doesn't, he might blurt out something stupid, like "don't go on that date," or even more stupid, like, "I think I'm in love with you."

There'll be no talk of this night in the following morning. No discussion of what the fuck is happening between you - 'cause you've already tried, and Jeongguk is paralysed by his fears more than ever.

Or at least you assume there won't be.

When you're woken to the sound of Jeongguk cursing, still snuggled into his warmth, you shoot up. Look around - then realise exactly what he's making a fuss about.

By his feet, pristine and perfectly folded is an origami bird.

One of his.

You reach over. Unfold it. Read it. Hide the pang of discomfort in your diaphragm as you read it aloud.

" Go speed dating. "

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#bd #bad decisions

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